#oikawa tooru x reader
accidental nude send: oikawa tōru !
dedicated to: tōru bc it’s his bday kiss kiss
word count: 1.1k
warnings: uhhhhhh the same hbsjdnd nudes. cocks. yum
MASTERLIST FOR ALL ACCIDENTAL NUDE SEND FICS
it’s three in the morning, and oikawa can’t help but think of how inconvenient this fucking is. he’s at iwaizumi’s, sleeping right next to him actually, with hanamaki and matsukawa snoring by his side, on the floor. just an hour ago he’d been arguing for the spot on the bed, next to iwaizumi, claiming he’d known him longer and was the one that had been away for too long, therefore more deserving of the bed.
honestly, none of them really cared. it was just fun to piss oikawa off.
eventually, he got his spot, but at the moment he regrets nothing more.
sleep never came easy to oikawa, so it’s unsurprising he’s still up this late with everyone else fast asleep. usually, though, with the darkness of the room, the heavy snores echoing, and the random instagram posts he scrolls past, his eyes start to droop, and he’s lulled to sleep. sometimes even you help, his pretty thing, texting him about your day, sending him voice notes, asking him random questions that have him falling sleepier and sleepier. more often than not, it works very well, more than any other method.
so, naturally, he’d left his instagram app, and went to his messages. his eyes had been fluttering shut, struggling to stay open, but the moment he opens the chat he shares with you, they fly open.
it’s a timed photo, he deduces. your phone is set up at a low angle, revealing you up until slightly beneath your hips, just enough of your thighs. you’re standing to the side, showing off the curve of your ass to the camera. a frilly piece of lingerie hugs it perfectly, sitting pretty on your hips, with a matching, sheer bra cupping your breasts, except the strap of the shoulder revealed to the camera has slipped off.
the moment the image registers in his brain, oikawa’s mouth goes dry, lips parting as he stares wide eyed.
how— how dare you?
he was trying to sleep.
the brightness of his phone is suddenly a little too high, and he locks it in paranoia, glancing around himself to make sure none of his friends had randomly woken up from the squeak he’d let out when he first opened the chat. sitting up quietly, he inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales. he can’t risk opening that again here, so just as quietly, he slips out from underneath the covers tiptoeing across the room to leave to the furthest bathroom. he might — need it.
“what the fuck?” he softly breathes out, the moment he shuts the door. he can faintly hear his heart racing in his ears as he leans his forehead against the door. the phone is heavy in his pocket, a never ending reminder of what he just witnessed. but just to make sure, just to be certain, that in his drowsy state he hadn’t just thought up that image of you — because god knows the amount of times he’d woken up with your name lingering on his tongue and his briefs damp; his mind is very creative, he finds — he pulls out his phone again, unlocking it to the messages app again.
you’re still there. you’re real. staring at the camera with a sultry look in that goddamned lingerie piece, your nipples peaking through the sheer lace, your ass so perfect and your skin so smooth he wants to bruise it and litter it with kisses and bites and sucks.
“god— fuck,” he whispers, swallowing thickly and twisting around, letting his head fall against the door. why would you pull that shit? it’s three in the morning— it’s not fucking fair.
with his phone tossed onto the sink, he stares at the tent in his trousers with disdain. there’s no way he’s sleeping any time soon like this. if he were to take care of it, he might be granted some sleep in the next few minutes. if he were to leave it be and attempt to sleep it off— that’s at least another hour gone to sexual frustration. give in to his desires or avoid the feeling of shame and sleep it off? it’s a dilemma, but one he spends a good thirty seconds on before he’s shoving his pants past his balls and hiking up his shirt, spitting on his palm and spreading it generously along his cock.
shame be damned— you sent the fucking photo.
as he strokes himself, hips thrusting lightly, hand twitching where it grips his shirt upwards, he thinks of all the times he’s had you on his lap, beneath him, by his side, arms wrapped so tight around him, kissing him like he was the very air you breathed. with how heated he feels at the moment, how his cock ached and throbbed and twitched, he longed for your lips on his neck and your wandering hands bravely slipping past his shirt. you’d barely gotten past a few make out sessions with him, but the both of you had been teetering on the edge for far too long now.
maybe this was a confirmation from your side, that you wanted more.
at the thought of you dressing up for him, dolling yourself up and taking pictures with him heavy on your mind, his fist tightens around himself, wrist twisting as he squeezes and massages the tip of his cock. the squelching sounds of his hand against himself are embarrassingly loud, and he’s thankful in his delirious, shocked state, he’d found it in himself to choose a far away bathroom.
“fuck, fuck,” he moans lowly, breath hitching as he pants desperately, bringing himself closer and closer. he’s not particularly rushing through it; oikawa’s never been one to rush through things like this, and he wants to enjoy every moment as much as he can. he revels in the burning coil in his tummy, in the way his balls tighten, the way his cock twitches, the way his chest heats up and his eyes and brain go hazy. he gets lost in the entire feel of it, his hand stroking wetly, your name on his tongue, his skin tingling. as his orgasm approaches, close, close— so fucking close, his thighs tense and the hand gripping his shirt reaches for the doorknob, grasping it white knuckling tight until he’s spilling, his body trembling.
breathing deeply, raggedly, his hips thrust up lazily into his hand as he squeezes his cock, milking himself dry. the comedown is slow, lazy, like he’s in this weird in between state of not fully there and conscious. distantly, through blurry eyes, he notices the chime and lighting up of his phone, alerting him of messages received.
but before he can think, before he can convince himself otherwise, he grabs the phone, unlocking it to the camera app and flipping it towards him. bringing his cum soaked hand up to his lips, he sticks his tongue out, staring at the camera through half lidded eyes as he snaps a picture of his post orgasm self, all messy hair, hazy eyes and bright cheeks. directly from his camera roll, he sends it to you, before he sags against the door once more, and breathes.
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loving him feels like...
⤷ suna, oikawa, bokuto, akaashi, tsukishima, sugawara ; [gn!reader]
warnings/genre: fluff, mentions of food (bokuto)
notes: my visibility has been really bad lately !! so please reblog, i will give you my first born (not clickbait)
━━ suna; streetlights passing by so quickly that they just seem like white lines against the black sky, the clean air filling your lungs and making you and he invincible. and then, hours later, the cold dirt on your backs and the smell of grass. a laugh comes from him as he points up and names a constellation he insists is real (it’s not), opting to interrupt your compliant about it with a kiss.
it’s immeasurable. timeless, to where you know you’ll still feel immortal when you’re both gray.
━━ oikawa; half-asleep honesty, where his hair is a mess and his words are spoken partially into a blanket, but for once he isn’t afraid to tell you just how much he loves you. he won’t hesitate to talk about the future, about how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. sometimes these nights are crafted entirely from vulnerability and long days, where the only times you feel safe are in each other’s arms.
he needs you twice as much as you need him — he knows that you’re the other half of his heart.
━━ bokuto; a giant stuffed animal that bokuto spent an unholy amount of money on, trying to win it from some guy at an amusement park. drive-in movies with cheap popcorn and the cold night air pulling the two of you together under a blanket for warmth — until one of you finally relents and starts tickling the other. (most movie nights end up with stolen kisses and uncontrolled giggles.)
it’s careful and careless all at the same time. and things don’t always go how he plans, but he still has you, so what more can he ask for?
━━ akaashi; waking up with the sun painting golden lines on the bed sheets, the smell of coffee announcing his presence before he comes padding into the room with two mugs in his hands. he smells like vanilla and the pages of old books, where the paper is brittle, the spine is broken in, and the cover is worn. he’s not perfect, he knows that — he’s flawed and a little standoff-ish at first.
but just stick around for a while, you’ll find he has a lot to offer.
━━ tsukishima; “i hate you”, whispered with a smile and in the most loving tone, with your head resting on his chest and his thumb rubbing small circles on your back. quick kisses and back hugs serving as hellos and i love yous, “later” being used in place of “goodbye” (he doesn’t like that word. he doesn’t want to say that to you for the last time one day), him teasing you instead of flirting with you.
loving tsukishima is sometimes strange at first. but if you learn to speak his language, it’ll soon become your favorite.
━━ sugawara; crumbled love notes being thrown at each other across the school library, trying to hold back giggles when the librarian glares at the two of you. the sounds of rocks being kicked across pavement and birds chirping happily accompany your voices — voices that are talking about a hopeful future together. in the mornings, a towel is wrapped around his waist as he plants a good morning kiss to your lips, the wet ends of his hair dripping onto you. his soft humming or singing can be heard alongside the same birds from your afternoon walks.
there’s a sense of certainty with him. theres no worry about where you’ll be in a few years or what will happen. if you have each other, what else do you need?
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everyone say happy birthday tooru.
tw: fem!reader, husband!kawa, public sex, quickie in da car, spit, creampie
a/n: this one goes out to mr. stinky, make it a good one. shoutout to the bestie for always beta-reading @jeanbeaux i owe you my first born.
it had been months, three long months, since you had last seen your husband. nights spent cuddled up to his pillow, laying there wishing you had his arms wrapped around your waist as you drifted off to sleep. it was nice at first, any chance he got, tooru made sure to facetime, call, or text you and chat about your day. but as the weeks got longer and training got extended, it got harder.
but now that you have him here with you, you're not letting go, not until you've had your fill of him.
the air surrounding you two is muggy, the windows of the car fogging up with each hot pant that leaves you both. your skin is sticky with the sweat that covers you in a light sheen, thighs burning from their constant bouncing on his lap. tooru's hands are warm as they hold your waist, helping to guide your movements as they become sloppy.
"couldn't even wait till we got home, huh?" he's grinning as the words leave his lips.
he knows you missed him — hell, he missed you so fucking much, he couldn't blame you. missed being able to laugh at nothing with his partner, missed those sleepy mornings where voices are still groggy as the sun casts you both in a warm haze. being able to actually talk to you and see you instead of those weird mid-day calls and squinting to look at the tiny screen on his phone.
you both craved each other, and now you both finally have each other.
your arms are thrown over his shoulders, forehead resting against him as you continue raising and lowering your hips onto him. the muscles in your thighs have practically given out at this point, tooru's grip on your sides tightening as he holds you up, giving himself that leverage to fuck his cock into you.
the car rocks gently with his movements, no way to hide what's going on inside. hands sliding down your back to firmly grab at your ass to spread you even more for him, heavy balls slapping against you with each slam of his hips.
"fuck baby, missed this sweet cunt." you can't help but let yourself whine, walls clenching down around him as your arousal eases him further into you. the slight stretch that comes with his thrusts makes your body warm, makes you realize just how well he fills you up.
“feels so good —” breath fanning across his lips as you lean in closer to catch them in a kiss. the exchange is sweet, each push and pull of your flesh against his conveys everything words can’t. tongues peeking out behind their barriers to fight with one another, the muscles exploring the expanses of each other’s mouths.
both of you are panting loudly, soft moans and desperate whines fill up the space, quiet groans from the leather beneath you from your constant shifting.
tooru's hands are gentle as they keep your chest pressed against his, helping to keep you steady as he slowly sends his hips up into yours.
each drag of his cock along your walls sends jolts of electricity through your veins, each tap of his swollen head against the gummy spot inside you sending your back into a further arch to get him closer, each grind of your hips against his lap to keep him shoved further inside you.
keep you stuffed full of him.
“baby, baby — shit just like that, fuck my cock like that.” thighs shaking as they lift you up and send you back down, cunt clenching around him with want, with the need to cum.
your arms tighten around his neck, pulling him towards you to catch his lips in a searing kiss. but before you can find his mouth, his hand slides up your torso to place itself on the back of your neck.
“open up.” fingers light, but firm as they grip onto you.
without another word, your lips part just as he asked. tooru is grinning before he purses his own together, sending a thick drop of his spit into your mouth.
it takes everything in you not to cum right there. not to cry out from his taste on your tongue. every nerve in your body lights up at just how lewd it is.
but fuck — do you want him to do it again.
the audible shallow that fills his ears sends his head lolling back, makes his cock twitch inside you, makes his balls tighten up against his body, makes him fight off the urge to cum.
you’re bouncing on his lap again before he even gets the chance to praise you for being so good to him. “wanna cum so bad — want your cum so bad. please let me, please!” hips aching from being spread open for so long, but it’s all pushed to the back of your mind when his fingers find your clit.
rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bud causes you to gasp out, words bubbling up in your throat dying in your chest as a silent scream replaces them.
your walls suck him in, cunt keeping him inside as you gush around.
“shit!” it’s whispered into the soft skin of your neck as he holds you close to him, balls squished against you as they empty into you, cock lurching inside gummy walls as he fills you up.
hot load sticky as it clings to your walls and paints them white, makes your tummy warm with the feeling of him.
the squelching of your arousals mixing together makes your nose twist up, both of your releases covering tooru’s cock in slick helps him glide into you easier, slow thrusts to help ride out your high.
a short huff leaves his lips as his breathing comes back down, your heart slowly pattering against your chest as it calms itself.
it’s so good to have him back home.
taglist: @jeanbeaux @marleyterians @katsukiflr @toji-dabi-wife @xodoll @bokutoslittledoll @reiners-beard @shotosicywh0re @umikosa @omiikeii @devilgirlcrybabiey @mvttsvn @brokennerdalert — bold means you can’t be tagged, send a dm so we can get it figured out <3
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[1:34 PM]— OIKAWA TOORU
Oikawa’s been sleeping in all morning, and you’re almost about to tumble past the edge of insanity if he sleeps one second longer. His snores from your room don’t make you giggle with a stupid smile at the moment, instead, you roll your eyes with a scowl.
And now, with a glare on your face, you march to your bedroom on a mission.
“Tooru! Tooru, wake up,” you call, staring at the sight of your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows. He’s got his left leg hanging off the bed, blanket hung loosely on his hips as his bare back rises and falls with each snore. Laid on his stomach, his head is buried into his arms.
Your eyes melt for a moment at the sight before you shake your head and continue your agenda of waking him up. “Tooru, I’m serious, wake—oh my god,” you groan as he snores louder. You almost want to think he’s doing it on purpose. Sighing, you smack his shoulder once, twice, three times before he responds.
“Mmph,” he groans.
“Tooru.” Yawning, he turns to you, a sleepy grin on his face as he holds an arm out for you to fall into. You shove it away harshly, making his smile drop.
“Baby,” he whines, “why’d you do that? Come cuddle with—”
“Do you know what time it is?”
Crinkling his eyebrows, he thinks for a moment before answering, “like eleven?” He gasps when the pillow you smack his face with comes into contact.
“No! It’s one-thirty. One-thirty pm,” you growl at him.
“Baby,” he whines again, drawing his syllables out as long as he can. “‘M tired, prep for this game’s been grueling,” he pouts. Rolling back onto his stomach, he looks over his shoulder at you with innocent eyes. “Massage my back for me?”
“I’ll massage it with a bat,” you spit, making him pout more. “You’ve wasted the whole day sleeping.” Oikawa’s body shifts so his head can find your lap, laying his cheek on your thigh as your hand (though you’re still angry) finds his hair.
“‘M sorry, just been tired.” Sighing, you stroke mindlessly through the strands, studying the brown locks that have begun to grow out a bit. You note to yourself he needs a haircut.
“How bad? On a scale of one to ten?”
“Eighty million,” he wails dramatically. “Can’t even lay on it,” he looks at you miserable, waiting for your sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you lean forward, kissing his shoulder blade before rubbing your thumb in circles on the upper left muscle of his back—the spot that always bothers him. He sighs in relief.
“Hmm,” you hum, taking extra care to knead at a particularly tight knot, making him groan into your stomach. “You’re a bit of a drama queen,” you shake your head with a snort. And Oikawa smiles into the fabric of your shirt, giddiness seeping into his demeanor as you take care of him, holding him in your arms like he was fragile, gently working at the parts that hurt so that they didn’t anymore.
He doesn’t even realize what he’s saying when he utters the words “marry me already,” under his breath until he feels you stiffen.
“What?” He bites his lip for a moment, ready to shrug it off as a joke, until it dawns on him it wasn’t. He's serious, and it's a raw confession that slipped, but he wants to give that much more of himself to you.
So, with slow movements, he pulls away, looking up at you as he whispers “you heard me. Marry me already.”
“But the Olympics...”
“I won’t be playing at the Olympics forever, you know,” he huffs.
“But I only just moved here—”
“Don’t think, y/n. Just marry me,” he insists, gripping your hand as he sits up. It’s 1:34 in the afternoon, and you’re starving from waiting to eat with him, and you’re still quite mad he’s slept through majority of the day, and he hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet. Then there’s the fact that your rooms a bit messy for a proposal setting, and Oikawa’s not even got a ring yet, but he bares his heart to you.
And that’s enough.
“Okay,” you murmur, nodding slowly. “Okay. I’ll marry you,” you say with more confidence now, making a wide grin plaster itself on his face and tears collect at his waterline.
“Yay,” he simply whispers before he’s cradling your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. And he’s usually one for grand gestures, a larger than life approach to any and everything he does, but somehow, this is loudest thing Oikawa’s done, even in it’s simplicity.
“I love you,” you smile, cradling his face in your hands as you watch the light gleam in his eyes.
“You’d be one of many,” he grins. And when you swat his shoulder, and he laughs, shuffling closer you when you try to shove him away, there’s a lingering sense of comfort in the air. You’re still the same, even if you’re halfway across the world from the only home you’ve known, still learning a new language and gripping at the ropes of a new job, still staying up and missing everything you left behind, you and Oikawa are still the same. And it's all you need, really.
“Tooru,” you warn.
“Okay, okay, I love you too. There,” he offers with a chuckle. “I really, really love you.”
jxwehdbuebf happy belated birthday to oikawa i didn't get a chance to write him anything and i couldn't think of anything either, so take an old draft i meant for atsumu that i just changed to him LMAO. why are their personalities so similar in a way deubfrcbf
reblogs are really appreciated !!
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HIT DIFFERENT [10:48 PM]
oikawa tooru x gender neutral afab!reader
content | sub!oikawa. dom!reader. riding position. begging. praise. creampie. passionate sex. i love you's. lowercase intended. names used: master, baby, baby boy, sweetheart. kinda proofread lol. pls tell me if i need to add more tags!
word count | 1177
note | a birthday gift for this babe <3 i'm shocked i finished this in one day tbh lmao. but i hope y'all enjoy 😋 & new layout type beat
OIKAWA shuttered lightly as you kissed upon his chest, making your way down to his stomach. “shit,” he cursed under his breath when you pressed your lips against the tip of his clothed cock. you had been teasing your boyfriend all day and you could feel his hard cock straining against his plaid boxer briefs. “h-hurry—”
you shushed oikawa and leaned back up to his face, and opened your mouth slightly, kissing him passionately. the brunette was quick to return the action. tooru groaned into the kiss and gripped on to your shoulder to deepen the kiss, causing your pulse to quicken.
“god tooru…” you pulled back to mumble against his sweet, full lips. you placed one of your hands on his twitching cock. “soon baby boy, soon.”
the brunette whined but nodded hastily. he knew you would take care of him, you always took care of your baby.
the hand that laid on the front of his underwear started to kneed his dick as you leaned down to kiss his neck. oikawa purred upon feeling your teeth drag against his collar bone.
“you're so pretty, baby,” you whispered against his beautiful, pristine skin. “my pretty boy.”
“t-thank you y/n…” oikawa’s nails dragged lightly against your back, not making a mark but you could still very much feel it. it made you shiver and you could feel your cunt throb. you smiled softly against him.
you pulled back to look at his expression and teasingly pulled his underwear down, a smirk on your lips. tooru furrowed his eyebrows, frustrated with your constant teasing. at this rate, he thought you would never let him come. you, of course, took notice and gave him an empathetic look.
“i'm sorry baby boy, you must really want to come, don't you?” tooru agreed softly with the cutest little pout. you smiled feebly, “i'll give you your reward right now, okay?”
“i promise baby.” oikawa looked up at you with so much trust and love it made your heart clench. god, he looked downright perfect , and he was all yours.
you grabbed the brunette haired male by his cock as you placed yourself on his thighs, slightly hovering over them. your hand made its way up and down tooru’s pulsing sex, pre leaking from the angry red tip.
“you have such a pretty cock tooru,” and you meant it. it was perfect in every way, and it was more length than girth but perfect regardless. you could see several noticeable veins stand out and his scent was intoxicating.
oikawa bucked his hips up and released a shaky moan, one hand gripping your thigh and the other on the silk sheets. “fuck! m-master, that feels so, so good.”
you tilted your head slightly, “oh? bet you wanna feel master’s cunt too, don't you?”
“yes! yes please, i n-need to be inside of you.. i can't wait anymore, please master.” tooru begged without a thought in mind, not shameful in the slightest. he needed to be released. “i'll be your good boy, i wanna be your good boy master!”
you loosened your grip on his cock and reached underneath yourself, taking a decently thick plug from your sopping pussy and threw it behind you somewhere.
oikawa gasped as drops of your slick dropped from your cunt onto his leg. he reached one of his hands to tenderly spread your drenched lips and you gasped in delight.
“i'm prepared enough baby, just sit back and let master take care of you..” you pushed tooru’s hand away lightly and grabbed a hold of his pretty cock again, rubbing his cockhead against your clit. you moan quietly and decided a bit more teasing wouldn't hurt anyone.
“don't you wanna come inside of me baby boy?” the brunette nodded immediately, babbling mostly slurred nonsense. you giggled. “alright, here we go…”
you guided his tip to your lubed hole and mewled, feeling the head of his cock enter you. oikawa gasped and felt his toes curl at the sensation of your warm cunt around him. you continued to go down on his cock and eventually bottomed out entirely.
you inhaled tightly, feeling his cock graze against your sweet spot. he made you feel so full, every single time. you lifted yourself slightly before plopping back down and continued this action.
“m-master! thank you, thank you so m-much..!” tooru sobbed and started to upsurge his hips to meet your thrust. your eyes widened, shocked at his sudden action but you didn't dare stop him; this is his reward after all.
the brunette placed both hands on the side of your thighs for a more steady ground. he threw his head back slightly and let out a noisy moan, rambling on more.
“love you, i-i love you y/n! you feel so fucking amazing and f-fuck, i want to come inside, please! can i?”
you swallowed thickly, biting your lip to somewhat have control over your volume but with oikawa looking up at you and his cock sliding against your walls, it was far too much. you sense of smell was maxed and the smell of vanilla mixed with sweat, your vision started to get a bit hazy.
“y-yeah baby boy, you can come whenever you want. you earned this. you've been such a good boy for your master,” oikawa whined at your praise and his cock twitched inside of your cunt. “you're always pleasing me so well baby and you're so perfect for me..”
one hand went to play with your hard clit, rubbing in slow circles while the other hand did the same treatment to oikawa’s nipple.
the brunette looked at you with steady and lustful eyes. watching his master left his tummy churning and he started to feel a knot in his stomach.
“m-master, ‘m going to come soon..” oikawa whined.
“that's it baby, go ahead, i'll come with you,” you whispered breathlessly, rubbing at your throbbing clit faster. you squinted down at your lover, vision starting to get blurry. “f-fuck, okay baby, come with me, come!”
“hnnnnnnnng!” tooru thrusted his hips up one more final time before he let go, releasing his thick cum inside your aching pussy. you cried out, releasing right after him. your cunt fluttered around his cock, which was softening inside of you.
you sighed in content and slowly lifted yourself off your baby boy, and laid your head on his chest with cum dribbling out your hole. of course, you two would have to clean sooner than later, dried up cum is not nice to clean up. but for now, you just wanted to sit there for a bit with the love of your life.
after some minutes of comfortable silence, oikawa was the first to speak as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. “that was fun.”
you let out an exhausted giggle and kissed his chest. “i'm glad it was baby.”
“i love you sweetheart,” you shuffled slightly into a better position, with your head in his collarbone and smiled sweetly.
“i love you too.”
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[ kuroo, oikawa, kita and daichi ]
warnings: 18+, minors do notninteract, smut, little degradation here, bit of edging there, swearing because oo la la and mommy kink thrown, daddy kink here, overstim
a/n: i dunno what happened, i fought the urge and my hand slipped
camboy kuroo is so mouthy, honestly is the best of the dirty talk and his body is so nice, he loves being complimented but fuck if his onlyfans start praising him too much you best believe he's going to be callin' the lot of em sluts and whores for his cock and yes he's on the leaner side, perfect mix of curve and length and you can't help but watch his thick fingers stroke himself, it's addicting but i mean really, how isn't he? especially when he gets so close to cumming, he'll throw his head back and groan so loud. a fucking sight to see and is worth every single penny
camboy oikawa like most bisexual switches, whiny as hell when his fans edge him, he smirks at the tips gets, definitely moans out for his mommy/daddy because it's tooru, little fucker is a sucker for making his fans happy and if that means edging himself to the point his face is red and he's almost bucking out of his chair then so be it? he's got the prettiest cock, definitely has length on his side and he curves to the right just slightly, but no one can tell because they're too caught up staring at the perfect crawl of veins that curl up to the crown of it, he's a sweetie and it's hard not getting hooked on his moans
camboy kita tho, i want you to really absorb this one because usually the one being tipped is completely in control, but its really reverse here. he smiles at the camera and it just makes everyone swoon because oh fuck and he'll just rasp a cute little greeting but it sounds so sexy, you go to shinsuke if you have a heavy ass voice kink but paired with his thiccums of a cock, he makes so many tips from just doing basics, and is honestly king of praise, stroking himself slow and just hums a good fucking boy/girl and it's.. ahh fuck it's something else
camboy daichi, oh my goshhh, he is such a fucking daddy and it's crazy bc his bod just makes you drool and then whips out his thick ass dick and he's gIRTHY and then a little above average length and breeder balls too because yes fucking damn. he grunts and his stomach convulses and his only fans have sent him compilations that never make it public and its hOTTTT but when he cums he groans loud and long and he gets so many tips because he's fucking mouthwatering when he fucks his fist and his fans will send in more tips asking daddy pls, cum one more time and he can't help it, moaning a little as he overstims himself and gripping the chair with his other hand when he shouts a second time. insatiable
© all work belongs to syds room 2021. do not modify, change, or copy works for use.
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authors note ; THE BIGGEST HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ABSOLUTE LOVE OF MY LIFE, TOORU! not the character i started for, but the one who immediately stole my heart and quickly became my favorite character of the series. now say happy birthday to my husband, or else i’m busting kneecaps
[ 12:02 A.M. San Juan, Argentina ]
Glancing down at your phone, several text messages from Oikawa flashed across the screen asking if you were ready for your nightly FaceTime call.
Back in Japan, it would’ve already been past daybreak hours… However, in Argentina? It had just barely turned 12:00 A.M. The problem was, you weren’t home. No, you were half-way across the world in a taxi on your way to surprise your boyfriend for his birthday.
Tooru : babbby, why didn’t you answer my call?
Tooru : are we still on for my birthday?
Tooru : don’t tell me you forgot…
BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Incoming video call from ‘Tooru’.
Your finger hovered over the end button for a few seconds, quickly trying to decide what you should do. If he saw the background, he would immediately know you were nowhere in Japan.
Tooru: are you still asleep? it’s already 12 P.M over there…
Guilt washed over you with each notification that you received, despite the fact of knowing within the next few minutes he would have you in his arms after a whole year.
“Sir?” you spoke up, catching the driver's attention as your thumb drifted over Oikawa’s contact. “How much longer until we reach my destination?”
“Almost there! Just a few streets over— not even two minutes from your stop.”
You nodded, acknowledging the driver as you pressed call on the screen.
“Yn! I thought you forgot about me— why didn’t you FaceTime?” his voice shrieked through the speaker of your phone, already hearing the pout on his face.
“I’m sorry, love. I’m not going to be able to talk for long… Some stuff came up at work, so I just wanted to call and tell you Happy Birthday.”
The phone went silent.
“Sorry, sorry… Just miss you, that’s all. I’ll talk to you later, I hope work goes well!”
You could tell how hard he tried to be enthusiastic, brushing off your lack of time. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, but all he wanted to do was desperately spend time with you.
“I love you, I’ll call you tonight. I promise!”
“Mk, I love you too.”
With that, the line went dead as you scrambled out of the backseat of the taxi. Hastily grabbing your bags, you made your way up to the front door, your fingers fumbling through your contacts to find Hajime. Before the phone could even ring, he answered— the other two members of the Seijoh 4 crowded around him.
“Shush! He doesn’t know I’m outside yet!”
The three went quiet, eagerly waiting as your hand made contact with the door and knocked. Moments passed by, and you grew nervous as you heard the door unlock before it swung open; revealing a very sleepy looking Tooru.
“Happy birthday, baby!”
The three men on the phone all shouted their birthday wishes as you faced the video call towards him, their laughter filling your ears as Tooru stepped forward and encased you into his arms tightly… Refusing to let you go, fear washed over him afraid that if his arms left you, you would simply disappear.
… but no, you were here. You were really here.
“I am so stupidly in love with you, Yn.”
“We’re on the phone still, you ass!” Iwa shouted over you both.
Snatching the phone from your hands, Oikawa made kissy faces at the camera, “What do you want me to say, Iwa-chan? That I’m stupidly in love with you too?! I totally am!”
“Disgusting. I’m hanging up.”
Ah, some things never changed.
general taglist open ; @larkspyrr @sakusasbitch￼
© All rights reserved by SHOKAMI. Do not modify, repost on any platforms, plagiarize, or claim as your own. 2021.
109 notes · View notes
Pairing: Oikawa x f!Reader
WC: 8.7k (i wrote your life story lmao)
Genre/Tags: smut, fluff, invisible angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, long distance relationship, sexting, oral (f. receiving), mutual masturbation, use of sextoy, creampie, marriage proposal
Summary: You viewed the world through your viewfinder, tunnel-visioned into composing the image of your design. But by viewing the world through your camera, you couldn't see that you took up the whole space within Oikawa's frame.
A/N: Happy belated, king, my heart’s prince. Plot with a lot of plot, dotted with some p0rn.
For as long as you could remember, it had always been you, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi. Oikawa would do something funny, Iwaizumi would chide him about it, and you would laugh off to the side. While the two of them grew to have their own passions with volleyball, you also found your way to seeing them behind the lens of your camera. Within this handheld machination, capturing light and turning those moments into memories, you sought to preserve the fleeting moments of happiness that the three of you were blessed to grow up with.
Infinity and Beyond
“Do you think you can take pictures of aliens?” Oikawa asked, looking up from his sci-fi novel.
“Hm. If they exist, it’s not impossible," you replied absentmindedly, reviewing the photo you just took. “Increase shutter speed…..”
“Oooh, what if you actually caught photos of ghosts?”
“Maybe?” You were still entirely focused on adjusting the setting on your camera. “Aperture…”
“Oh, I almost forgot, could you take another photo of me?” Oikawa stuck his hand between your face and your camera to get you out of your zone.
“Shut up Boke! Stop distracting her. It’s time to get back to practice!” Iwaizumi scolded. His patience finally wore out, resulting in a good kick to Oikawa’s buttocks.
Snap. Per-fect, you mused to yourself.
You grimaced slightly. Iwaizumi’s kicks were not to be taken lightly. You found your underclassman Kageyama standing beside you, unsure of what to do with the two bickering fools.
You pointed at said pair and told the boy, “Don’t be like that, Kageyama, especially not their language.” You hoped that your influence would steer the boy on a path of goodness and virtue. Although, you would never come to know that your little lecture was going to fall on empty ears as later on; the boy would, in fact, pick up on their language and tones...one-for-one. (Boke, Hinata, Boke!)
You scrutinized your camera and took another test image of Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi didn't care in particular, but Oikawa would happily pose for you. He never complained and you honestly thought he was vain like that, with his cheerful peace signs and quirky smiles.
"Get one of me looking into the distance! Ooh, absentmindedly eating ice cream. Wait, that was full body? No, retake it, I didn't pose!"
"I'm not even keeping these," you reminded him. "I'm just trying to play with the bokeh."
"But why not? I'm good looking..."
“Doesn’t that just mean dumb, like shittykawa here?” Iwaizumi asked in-between bites of ice cream.
You laughed and put your camera away. "No, they just sound the same."
Bokeh was a photography term to describe those aesthetic blurs in the out-of-focus parts of a photo. Usually it was in the background, and with the right tools, it could look mesmerizing and magical. And like bokeh, middle school went by in a blur.
The volleyball team suffered an agonizing defeat against Ushijima’s team. You received an award for “Most Dedicated Member” from the Journalism Club. All the photos that you have taken proved to be important for increasing community attention to the middle school volleyball team, and also boosted its popularity on-campus.
Games were often filled with curious classmates coming to watch the game, hoping to catch a live view of Oikawa's jump serves. No one knew what the true cost behind those magnificent serves was like. Oikawa punished himself with practice until his knee gave out, and you realized you could never really look at a photo of him midair without feeling a slight pang of something.
“Where are you all planning to head for high school?” Iwaizumi asked?
“What Iwa-chan means to ask is, ‘Where WE are going',” Oikawa corrected.
“What do you mean ‘we’? We haven’t even taken the entrance exams yet.”
“I believe our brains well enough, we’ll stick together still...at Seijoh! They have a great volleyball and journalism club! A lot of their alumni have gotten into great programs and opportunities. Not time to break up just yet!” Oikawa declared.
The Great King had spoken, and thus let it be so, for the next three years at Aoba Johsai.
The World is Big, But Our Dreams Are Bigger
You performed well on your high school entrance exam and received an arts scholarship. Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi also performed well on the exam and each received a sports scholarship. You were at first a bit confused why Oikawa didn’t end up going to Shiratorizawa, but he was adamant that he didn’t want to be in the same “dumb team as Ushi-baka” as he would so gently put it. You knew that another reason was because he just couldn’t really bear to part from the group he has grown up so closely with. Besides, Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team wasn’t weak either, like he said. And so, you got used and comfortable with “We” and “Us”.
You found another circle of friends within the Journalism and Media Club. It was a large unit that had its influence from the school bulletin, to the weekly student papers, to the yearbook, and even extended its soft-power onto the student council. Needless to say, it was involved with anything and everything. In that large network, though, you found your little corner with the photography crew responsible for taking all the photos that went into those publications. Sure enough, you were part of the group responsible for documenting campus clubs and athletics.
The day-to-day at Seijoh passed by slowly. You noticed Oikawa and Iwaizumi seemed to grow taller by the day. And you would laugh, hideously, whenever the three of you joked around. Iwaizumi once mentioned that if you were to sell Oikawa's photos at school, you would reap a fortune. You brought up the idea to Oikawa, and expected him to fully agree, while asking for 50% of the revenue. To your surprise, he told you to do whatever you wanted, "as long as you keep a copy for yourself...in case of reprints." And that was how you made all your snack money throughout high school.
Oikawa, with his good looks and personality, easily found his way into a lot of people's "want to date" list. Iwaizumi once asked you if you would want to date Oikawa, considering how nearly half the population at Seijoh were lining up to deliver bentos and snacks and love letters to this boy. You immediately shot the idea down, flustered and embarrassed at the thought.
You vehemently exclaimed, "No way!"
Oikawa heard when he came around the corner. He just laughed and whined, "What, why not?"
You never answered, and instead, turned and walked away in the opposite direction because you felt that if you didn't leave that hallway, your heart was about to burst.
Oikawa never asked why afterwards and Iwaizumi never brought it up again either.
"Are you sure you don't want to be our club manager?" Oikawa asked you while walking home after school. Neither of you had club activities that day.
"No? Do I seem like I want to mom the whole team?"
"But it'll be fun! Makki is sweet and Mattsun is funny. The others are great too! Iwa-chan's there too. And there's me!"
"Sounds like too much trouble. Besides, I already have my club stuff."
Oikawa slumped and followed your footsteps. "But I feel like we don't see you very often anymore!"
"That's because you're dating that girl in the other class," you let slip. It sounded like a complaint and you wish you could take it all back. "I mean, we're just all busy now."
But it was true! You also wanted to argue that you saw Iwaizumi way more than you did of Oikawa. At first it seemed like he was avoiding you, and then before you could figure out why, he announced that he had a girlfriend now (and that she was really cute). What's that got to do with you though.
A week later, Oikawa told you they broke up. It turned out that she dumped him because he spent too much time on volleyball. At least, that was the reason Oikawa told you. Iwaizumi didn't say anything.
You patted Oikawa on the back and told him not to get too bogged down about it all, and how he was popular and all, so he could definitely find someone. Oikawa threw his arms around you and squeezed you tight against him. He was wailing, and you thought that the boy was absolutely distraught, so you hugged him back, whispering words of praise and affirmations. Good riddance, you thought for a moment. Oikawa's hair was soft, and you realized you quite liked the texture when the two of you finally let go, but your hands were already accustomed to running through them.
Sometime after Oikawa's third break-up (this time you and Iwaizumi were completely unfazed), he asked you for a favor.
"Can you please come with me?" he begged, sliding the palms of his hands against one another in prayer. "I'll treat you to dinner after."
You stared at him quizzically, wondering if it was all a scam. And you convinced yourself that the only burst of joy you felt when you heard dinner was because you were a cheapskate and wanted good food.
"What do you need again?"
"I need to babysit Takeru and take him to volleyball class."
It wasn't the first time you met Oikawa's nephew or his older sister. The elder Oikawa was every bit as gorgeous as her little brother: long lashes, soft natural curls, and balanced facial features. Truly both of them won the genetic lottery. Even Takeru was probably going to grow up to become a little heartthrob, like his uncle.
You didn't realize it, but Oikawa picked up a passerby's whispers wondering if Takeru was a younger sibling or a son, to which the other gossiping auntie gasped. He wasn't going to tell you, but he was amused and he let his thoughts wander for just a moment.
You were taking pictures of Takeru, at the request of the boy's mother. You were more than happy to and you found Takeru's little habits to be so similar to his uncle's. You would know, of course you would know. Deep down even knew why, although you could not bring yourself to admit it to anyone else, not even Iwaizumi. You were convinced you especially couldn't tell Iwaizumi.
You viewed the world through your little viewfinder, tunnel-visioned into composing the image of your design. At the same time, that was how you missed the way Oikawa would stare at the tiny crinkles around your closed left eye when you were deep in focus. By viewing the world through your design, you couldn't see that you took up the whole space in Oikawa's frame.
Oikawa saved the photo he took on his phone into a folder deep within his memory.
All Good Things Come to An End.
“And now I proudly present to you all, family and friends, the graduating class! In remembrance of our beloved school, let us sing our school anthem one last time.”
Dispersed voices came together in unison, drowning out any choked sobs or shaky voices. You snuck out your camera to snap a photo of the now teary eyed Student President, and some of the teachers who stood to the side of the podium.
After the end of the ceremony, you hugged all your club friends, took photos after photos. Portraits, Landscapes, Selfies. It was unknown when, if ever, you’ll all be able to meet together again after that day. And even then, no one would be the same anymore. The fantasy of the high school campus closed its curtains, sealing away all the good times, the bad times—the youthful times.
You said your final goodbyes to the club members and went to look for the volleyball boys. They were first heard before they were found, already sobbing in a group together. Their underclassmen were also there to give gifts and express their congratulations.
“Y/N!” Oikawa exclaimed, seeing you come up, and pulled you into their huddle. “I was wondering where you ran off too.”
“Heh, you’re one to talk. You’re the one leaving us all tomorrow.” Iwaizumi remarked, biting his lip. Tears threatened to fall down his face. The volleyball team already had its own farewell party, but when did saying good-bye actually prepare the heart for parting?
Your smile fell slightly as your eyes bore holes into the ground. That’s right, he was leaving tomorrow.
Third year had been a year where all of you got a major reality check. Perhaps you had grown too comfortable and content with Oikawa's presence to even consider a morning where you wouldn't be able to see him down the hallway.
After the painful and disappointing loss against Karasuno, the three of you began to focus on "the future" like all the other peers did. Volleyball and photography time became study sessions in the library as the third-years began to prepare for university entrance exams. None of you had really talked about goals at the time. It was a difficult thing, you felt. Maybe all of you were waiting for someone else to breach the topic first.
You brought it up first, because you had noticed that Oikawa wasn't keeping up with you or Iwaizumi during study sessions. His mind seemed to be occupied with something else. So, when you asked him if everything was alright, Oikawa decided he couldn't keep his secret any longer.
When you looked back up, you found Oikawa gazing intensely into your eyes.
“Yea, but it’s not like we’ll lose touch with each other. You’re gonna have to block me after I spam call you at 3 AM.” Oikawa said, eyes not leaving yours.
You felt your throat running dry, unable to follow up with anything witty. You only managed a weak chuckle at Oikawa’s attempt to bring humor into the mood.
“How about we take some photos?” you suggested, redirecting everyone’s attention to the camera you were holding. You double checked the settings, and handed it off to Yahaba to help out.
Click. The only thing you could do.
Click. The only fragments you could hold on to.
Click. The moments you want to last forever.
After photos, the three of you told the families to go home first, and instead headed to the park you three practically grew up in. You laughed as the two boys you grew up with tried to awkwardly fit themselves onto the kiddie slides. Their legs are much too long to actually maneuver around the elementary shapes. Iwaizumi pulled one-armed chin-ups while Oikawa tried to distract him. You crouched with them through the plastic mazes and tried communicating through the talk tubes on either side of the playground. It didn't really work because Oikawa was being too loud and you heard him before his voice even went through the tube.
You were reviewing some of the photos when you found Oikawa and Iwaizumi sitting at the swings, conversing about something you couldn't hear. Oikawa would briefly look at you every now and then, his face slightly flushed,
After spending all this time with him, you had already noticed and seen all of Oikawa Tooru's little ticks and behaviors. And maybe before today, you thought you would be able to see them forever. But there were no forevers and all things had to come to an end.
He’s leaving, he’s leaving, he's leaving.
“Hey, get over here, I’ll take some photos of you two,” Iwaizumi called out to you.
Oikawa wasn't looking at you when you came over and sat down on the swing where Iwaizumi was sitting. You handed over your camera and looked at Oikawa. His ears were burning and his shoulders were shaking.
He didn't respond.
"Crappykawa?" You tried again, "Is everything okay?"
No, he wanted to tell you. No, nothing was okay.
You felt nervousness gnaw away at your insides and didn’t notice that the young man next to you was being tortured even more so. And neither of you noticed Iwaizumi's furrowed brows fall into an exasperated smile as he snapped away at the photos of you and your loving gaze at his best friend. Or the small side-eye Oikawa gave you when you were talking to Iwaizumi instead.
Only Iwaizumi knew. Only he knew, since long before either of you ever even realized it or bothered to admit it. And once you saw the photos, you would probably understand everything. Because the camera wouldn't lie.
You couldn’t sleep at all that night, flipping through photos throughout your hard drive, digging through boxes, and troubleshooting your photo printer.
Meanwhile, Iwaizumi sighed as he listened to Oikawa's circular rambles. Every few minutes, Iwaizumi would ask Oikawa if he was done packing yet, to which Oikawa would huff and complain that Iwaizumi wasn't listening to the point. What was the point? The point was that Oikawa missed his chance, decided he wasn't going to say anything, and was still unsure.
The sun peaked out behind the hills already when you finally finished—a photo book of the best photos you’ve taken of the three of you since the first day you’ve had a camera.
Today was the day. Oikawa was leaving. You and Iwaizumi also got up early to join Oikawa’s parents in sending him to the airport.
Let’s send him off with a smile, you thought.
With so many people around you, you didn't get a chance to talk to him in private. He was in a comfortable outfit and he looked as though he was just going on a weekend trip. It was going to be a trip with many, many weekends. Even if it were just the two of you, you didn't know what to say. You had so much to tell him and also absolutely nothing.
It was Oikawa who broke the silence. "Take care of yourself."
"Yea, I will. You too."
Oikawa took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, in a way he didn't have to before matches anymore.
"So, I guess it's good-bye," you whispered. "You—"
Oikawa took out a small package from his backpack and handed it over to you. "Don't open it until you get home," he instructed. "Do you have something for me?" he asked, peering at the book you had tucked under your other arm.
You handed it over to him. "Yea...I left empty pages too."
Oikawa smiled. "Thanks."
Oikawa didn't know that he had opened his arms out inviting you close until you had stepped forward and hugged him; tightly, like the moments after Oikawa was dumped, all the times matches didn't go the way he wanted, and all other times just because. You didn't register what you were doing until you felt his arms wrap around you and heard his voice right next to your ear. "We'll see each other again. I promise."
"Yea..." You had no idea when again would happen, if ever.
You watched Oikawa go past the security check, watched the boy you grew up with and came to love but couldn't confess to, walk away. His shoulders were broad. They were strong. You knew he must also be nervous, leaving everything he has known behind to start new, but you also believed in him and his dreams.
Oikawa hadn't even made it onto the plane yet when he opened the photo book you gave him. He traced the edges where the glue had slightly seeped out the corners of the photos and followed the scribbles of the short descriptions you included. He chuckled over a line where you ran out of ink in the pen you were using and had to switch to another, and at a different line where you failed to spell his name correctly even after crossing it out twice. And in the corner you wrote: ran out of white out lol sorry.
He turned to the blank pages at the end and imagined what sort of life would present itself on those pages. Would you be in them? Could he fill them all with memories?
“Gate B13 now boarding Group 2.” The loudspeaker interrupted the moment. Oikawa packed your gift away and stood up, preparing to line up for boarding. For better or for worse, he was going to Argentina.
“Are you going to say anything to her?” Iwaizumi had asked him at the park. Oikawa was looking at you in the distance, busy taking photos oblivious that you were being talked about.
“I thought about it, but I don’t know. I don’t want to keep her waiting. But I don’t want her with someone else either. I don’t know if I can give her what she deserves,” Oikawa admitted, pulling something out of his pocket to show his best friend.
Iwaizumi glanced at the item and replied, “How about letting her make that call for herself?”
The plane took off, climbing higher and higher. Oikawa peeked out the airplane window and watched his hometown grow smaller and smaller, farther and farther, until everything was swallowed by white clouds. “I hope I made the right choice”.
On the subway home, you wanted nothing more than to grab the small package safely tucked in your backpack and rip it open to see what it was all about. You were getting impatient and antsy.
“Don’t even think about it, you heard what Oikawa said.” Iwaizumi warned you. Why did it sound like he also knew what was going on?
You grumbled and stopped fidgeting. The moment you stepped into your house, you ran up the stairs to your room, and took the package out. The crisp edges of the wrapping paper were evident how careful Oikawa had packaged it. You thought back to the rushed, botched job of your photo album and furrowed your brows. Turning your attention back to the box, you slowly untucked the wrapping paper, revealing a small box. You lifted the lid off and stared at the contents.
A button. The engravings were undeniably familiar—the crest of Seijoh. It was on every student’s uniform jacket. You noticed a folded letter beneath the button and carefully slipped it out to read the contents. It was addressed to you and your fingertips were already tracing the strokes that made up your name. Oikawa had such pretty handwriting, and you never grasped just how beautiful your name looked in his penmanship.
I probably should have given this to you in person. But I really didn’t have the guts to do so, and I wasn’t sure if you would just start crying like a baby again. Seriously one of these days your sobs will drown your camera! I don’t know how you’ll respond...forgive me for being a coward and running away to the other side of the globe! Don’t miss me all the time! Just a little bit sometimes, I hope you'll think of me when you see this button. In case you’re wondering, it’s not just a spare I had laying around. I like you, I'm sorry I waited until now to tell you.
You picked up the button and ran your hand across the detailing, as tears began to well and stream down your face. It was the second button on his uniform. A confession.
You liked him too. It had always been there, always been mutual.
Feelings left from graduation haven’t subsided yet. Feelings from saying goodbye to one of you adored haven’t faded. And no matter how many drafts you formulated on your phone to send to him, it was too late now. He was going to be on the other side of the world.
“Shittykawa, you fucker. How many hours do I have to wait before you’ll even be able to see the message”. You wondered, burying your face further into your pillow. You wondered if the two of you were, despite mutual feelings, simply never going to be.
Five-Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
Right after the call you had with Oikawa and somehow became a "thing", Oikawa panic-called Iwaizumi and asked if it was going to be a bad idea. The two of you were on either side of the world, he was going to be so busy with practice, and you were going to meet plenty of new people on campus. Iwaizumi groaned and did his best to appease his friend, analyzing worst and best case scenarios. Internally, Iwaizumi was pulling his own hair out, frustrated. Just frustrated. He even gave Hanamaki and Matsukawa a heads up to be careful should Oikawa call them.
"Be prepared. He won't let you hang up. Not even for you to take a shit."
You didn't feel anything different being in a relationship with Oikawa. With him so far away, each call was more like catching-up with a friend rather than a boyfriend (you've known him for so long after all), but slowly, you grew used to this long-distance dynamic. There weren't many hours in a day when both of you were awake, and between the busy schedules of both of you, time together was especially scarce. And because it was scarce, it was precious.
There was that one time you fell asleep on video call with him. Oikawa was talking and soon realized you stopped responding, snoring softly without a care in the world. When you opened your eyes, it was because you heard yells coming from your laptop telling you to wake up or you would be late for class. That was when you realized, looking at the total call time, that Oikawa hadn't hung up.
Another time, you showed him a tour of your campus when the cherry blossoms bloomed. As you held your camera out and panned around the shower of pink petals, you told him that one day you two would come here together. Oikawa told you there was a Japanese garden in Argentina, the Buenos Aires Japanese Garden, and that the cherry blossoms there were just like home. He told you that one day he would show you around that place, and insisted that it was a great photo spot. Through the camera, Oikawa showed you the seasons of Argentina and you fed him the flavors of home.
You were once in the middle of changing when you saw that Oikawa sent you a photo. He was shirtless on the sand, drink in hand looking like a beach model. You couldn't help but zoom in on the picture to look at how toned his abs had become, blinking at the faint hairs that made up a happy trail, disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. He was...so hot. And you want him to know how much you wanted him at that moment.
You pulled your skirt down and knelt down in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, throwing the weight of your body to the left and to the right, finding an angle you felt the best in.
Click. You knew you looked good.
Click. And you knew how to work the lighting to your best favor.
Oikawa, on the other side of the world, nearly spat his drink out when he saw the photos you sent over to him. He sputtered and felt his hands turn into goo as his brain short-circuited for a moment at the sensuous expressions and poses within the dimensions of his phone. His teammate asked him if he was okay and Oikawa just shrugged and said "yea I'm okay". Only he would know, he was absolutely not okay, and soon pulled out a beach towel to cover the straining bulge pressing against his shorts.
He glanced at his phone, half-worried that someone else was going to see. You didn't send anything afterwards and Oikawa was left thirsty for more.
Holy shit 😳
When you came out of your shower and checked your phone again, you saw the message and accompanying photos. A newfound burst of shy and excited giggles bubbled from your chest.
You were laying on your side, cradling the phone connected to the charger. Oikawa smiled when he saw you yawn on the video call.
"Had a good night's sleep?"
"Yea," but I wish you were here or something. "How was practice? Did you have dinner yet?"
"I just saw the moon after practice, it's so bright and luminous tonight!"
You rolled onto your stomach. "I know, I saw it yesterday."
Oikawa laughed and ran his hand through the hair you wanted to touch so badly. "So I'm a thing of the past, for you, huh?"
"Stop, that's so stupid, no."
"I'll catch up to you. Next month."
"I'm going to visit home next month to sort out some visa stuff."
Oikawa came back to visit for the first time in December. You left class early to meet him at the airport. Iwaizumi told you that he had an exam and would meet up for dinner instead. While you checked the monitors for the status of his plane, you saw countless people meeting with their loved one. Some ran up to each other, hugging, kissing...They took the luggage for their others and walked hand in hand, catching up about their lives. You wondered how you should react when you saw Oikawa. Would he be excited to see you? This was the first time seeing him in person as his girlfriend. How much enthusiasm was enough and not overbearing?
You didn't have time to figure that out because suddenly your vision went dark.
"W-what?" Your hands flew up to your face and felt the hands covering your eyes.
"Guess who~" a teasing voice sounded next to your ear. His voice rang so clear, unlike the way it would warp over the phone. And you could feel his breath on your cheeks. Real, hot air.
You turned around and faced him, processing the man who stood in front of you. He was even taller than when he left. Hair a bit shorter than before, but the same beautiful eyes sparkled at you. Suddenly, you felt shy and deferred back to the old way you would address him. "Oikawa."
"Tooru," he blurted out.
"Huh?" You felt your throat turn dry and your heart pound.
"Well because...I'm your boyfriend right?" You already called him Tooru over the phone before, what happened? Oikawa felt the word boyfriend roll awkwardly off his tongue. He had introduced himself as so-and-so's boyfriend countless times before, but telling you in-person...declaring himself as your boyfriend made it all feel so different. He wondered if you would accept him as such, considering he wasn't there with you for the first few months. Have you met someone else? Were you not happy? He was too scared to find out.
"Do you have all your bags, Tooru?"
"Huh?" It was now his turn to blank.
The first few steps were awkward as Oikawa tried to match your strides. But it didn't take long before the two of you walked on the same beat and Oikawa felt the surge of confidence to reach for your hand. You smiled and laced your fingers with his, feeling his physical presence with you. It felt long overdue and new, but it felt right.
You traced his tan lines; he had several of them, the one on his collarbone and those curving in next to his chest. There was one that was horizontal at his waistline. When your hand roamed over, palming the outline of his cock, he groaned and tilted your face towards him so he could kiss his passions away.
For such a long time, you were the vision of his daydreams, and the temptation of his nights. He couldn't believe that the body he got to hold, the supple flesh that would quiver under his lips belonged to you. Your skin was warm and real.
"So sweet, thank you for the meal," Oikawa whispered before kissing and suckling your clit.
His fingers dipped into you, curling just the way to have your whole body shudder. Your fingers remembered the feeling of Oikawa's hair. While they were entangled within those locks, you felt your whole body squirm, as you rasped and moaned his name, creaming all over his tongue.
Being with Oikawa in-person almost scared you, because you suddenly realized the extent of your attachments to him. You didn't want to think about the day after, when he was going to have to leave again, only wanting to let the current moment linger for as long as possible.
Your hands tightly held onto his biceps as he inched his length into you, stretching your pussy open around his girth. It felt so good to have him filling you, feeling so close and tight, his warmth blended with your wetness.
His kisses were tantalizing and slow, coaxing your soft lips open so you could taste how much he missed you, wanted you.
"T-Tooru, Tooru—" you pleaded out to him as he thrust into you over and over again. Oikawa swung your legs over his shoulders and pressed your knees to your chest, sinking even deeper. The tip of his cock prodded that delicious, spongy spot, making you cry out his name as if those were the only syllables you knew. Each time his hips rutted against you, all the more closer and ever so tighter, you squeezed around him. His desperate pants sounded next to your ears and hot breath mixed in the same space as yours.
When you cuddled next to him, body tucked perfectly with his, you knew that the upcoming good-bye was going to be even more painful than the last. You counted your breaths with the rise and fall of his chest and dreamed of a time you two wouldn't have to part. Oikawa was thinking the same. He adjusted your head position carefully so you wouldn't wake up with a sore neck. His touch was so delicate as to not wake you from your slumber. Although he felt the pull of sleep, he didn't want to if it could mean holding you for a moment longer.
As though one good-bye with your lover wasn't enough, your other best-friend told you he was going to fly across the Pacific as well. After Iwaizumi left for California to continue his studies, you looked at your circumstances and wanted to do the best you could. But the internship you were so close to landing didn't happen and the subsequent interview resulted in silence. You knew you just had to keep working hard and keep trying, the same way Oikawa and Iwaizumi were both working towards their ambitions.
It was just a bad day and on a day like that, you missed Oikawa even more. Seeing the happy couples huddled together on the streets made you cross your arms tighter, imagining the arm around you was someone else's.
You didn’t want him to know, because he probably missed everyone more, being alone in a new place. So on video, you hid behind a pillow you were hugging and the dim lights. You thought he wouldn't notice anything. But he did.
“Are you crying?” he asked incredulously and partly wondered if he had done something to make you upset.
You whimpered and sniffled.
His normally exciting voice slowed into a gentle stream. "Baby, what happened? Can you tell me?"
“I miss you Tooru," you mumbled, burying your face into the pillow. "I want to see you again."
Argentina was exactly 12 hours behind Japan. Time conversion was so easy, but the distance in-between weren’t quite as simple. Oikawa felt powerless when he heard and saw you breakdown on the other side of the screen. He had no practice that day, a whole day to himself, but even then he could not visit you. He hated himself for it.
You only realized that you had fallen asleep when you opened your eyes and found sunlight filtering through the blinds.
You rubbed your eyes, thinking you must be crazy to hear Oikawa's voice first thing in the morning.
"Mwua, that's your good morning kiss."
You finally looked at your laptop, still on since the call last night. The timer in the corner showed that the total call time was 6 hours, 42 minutes, 38 seconds and counting.
"Tooru? You didn't hang up again?"
"No, I creepily watched you sleep. Your little snores are so cute." He saw you looking at him and brought up a fork of his dinner to the camera. "Say ahh."
You smiled. "Ahh."
He grinned and swallowed it all in one bite. It was such a silly game, but it made you feel happy and connected. Later that day you received a series of screenshots Oikawa took of you while you were sleeping, all decorated with sparkly bokeh frames and sappy filters. He even edited one of himself "sleeping" right next to you.
Oikawa knew he could've done a better job, but he also knew you would definitely laugh at his poor photo skills. He was right. You laughed. And he heard it in his heart, 12 hours away.
Despite the difficult moments, you also found strength. You made new friends and learned new skills as you worked hard on your studies. The poster advertising Spanish lessons caught you eye and you even began dreaming and planning. Oikawa was just as excited and the two of you even spent video dates helping one another. It felt as though each new vocab learned belonged to both of you.
Occasionally, you met up with Oikawa's older sister and hung out with Takeru at the park. You took a photo of him and smiled upon seeing the boy's eyes sparkle when he played volleyball. Takeru reminded you of your Tooru. Oikawa's sister saw your adoring gaze and thought about her younger brother. Having watched you, Tooru, and Hajime grow up, she thought of all of you as her younger siblings. And she only wanted the best and the happiest for all of you. Deep down, she already had a feeling that if you weren't already family, you were definitely going to be. One day.
In fact, Takeru would refer to you as "aunt" when talking about you in private already. Once, Takeru even let that slip out during a voice-call with Oikawa, saying, "Auntie is the best, I love her so much". Oikawa's sister then saw how her younger brother laughed, eyes waning into crescents and cheeks flushed. She told him that he should really consider where he wanted this relationship to go. His serious response and his unshaking voice held the same conviction when he had announced to the family over the dinner table that he was going to go to Argentina. And he certainly went to Argentina.
Your phone shook in your tight grip as you drew circles on your clit. Your toes were curling and digging into the sheets while your eyes were fixed on the lit-up screen, looking at Oikawa's body tremble. His face was flushed red, as he continued to pump his cock in-front of his camera. His thigh muscles would flex then relax and tighten once more.
"Let me hear you too, let me hear your voice."
His voice was needy and desperate. With the speaker near your ear, you imagined him right next to you, his cock, pressed up in your cunt, stretching you open. You mewled and rocked the dildo in, pressing the silicone head against your g-spot. The squelches from the lube and your own arousal were picked up by the mic and Oikawa fisted himself faster, imagining your tight walls clenching around him.
"Tooru, ah, I want your cock in me. Fuck—" You let go briefly, panting and catching your breath for a moment. You glanced at Oikawa on the screen, biting his bottom lip to muffle his moans and grunts. You could see how his hips bucked into his hands, the tip of his cock red and dripping.
You let go of the phone and used that hand to rub your clit while you thrust the dildo in and out with the other, chasing the edge.
"Cum with me, Tooru. Gonna cum—"
He moaned your name, trailing the last syllables in a quiet whine. His movements became faster, more erratic, until he emptied his load across his abdomen, covering his hands with sticky, white fluid. While you came down from your high, you watched Oikawa wipe himself of his cum that you wished were spurt into you instead.
You sipped some water and told him that, earning a series of flustered stutters, laughs, and a low growl asking you to be responsible for the cock that was hard again. You laughed and told him that in a few months, you would personally come to Argentina to suck him off. He thought it was a funny joke, until he realized that you were being very much serious.
"But doesn't the semester start then?"
"Idiot, did you forget? I was studying Spanish to come to Argentina for junior-year abroad."
"Oh my god, I forgot..I'm sorry about that. Wait, so..."
You smiled. "Tooru, my love, see you soon."
Oikawa's elation made your grin even wider.
"Can't wait to bounce on your dick," you teased. "Okay, I gotta go shower and head out. Bye!"
"HEY! That was so—" You hang up, laughing at how Oikawa must be feeling at that moment.
You quickly received a flurry of pictures and messages. A photo of his erection with an angry face drawn on the tip demanding for you to help made you cackle as you kicked your feet and rolled around on your mattress. And the messages that followed had your cheeks feeling hot and body excited for Argentina. For him.
On Top of the World
This time, Oikawa waited for you at the internationals arrival area. He couldn't sleep the night before, tracking the location of your plane every other hour. His teammates had to tell him to shut-up the nth time he mentioned, "Hey did I tell you my girlfriend is coming tomorrow?" He arrived at the airport a whole hour early, flowers in hand, he was going to dip you into a kiss like the movies.
The status on the board changed, your plane landed. Oikawa paced around the waiting area, impatient and excited. He had dinner plans all thought out, his apartment was all cleaned out, he had so much to tell you so much to hear from you.
He saw you on the small monitor showing passengers leaving customs. Oikawa made sure he was standing at the front, dead-center. You couldn't possibly miss him. You didn't miss him. When you turned around the corner of the white walls, the first face you saw was him and your face lit up.
"Tooru!" You let go of the large suitcase you carried, strides widening as you practically jumped into his arms. His body was solid and real, you couldn't help but think: this is what happiness is like.
Oikawa told you about the shops he frequented often, pointed out landmarks that you’ve seen in photobooks, and gladly got down low to capture your best angles for photos. Cityscapes merged with classical architecture. Asphalt transformed into winding, stone-paved paths. Food was in every corner and the musical sounds of Buenos Aires echoed, flowing through the empty spaces, breathing the city with life. Through Oikawa’s stories, you saw Argentina through his lens. You could almost imagine him a few years ago, barely nineteen, wandering through these maze-like streets alone.
At night, you and Oikawa were at a local bar he would frequent. Across the street, a musician played out a rhythmic tune, the strong tango beat absolutely thralling and infectious. A pair of street dancers took to the center, arms linked, feet in sync. Their steps were quick, accurate, and full of vigor. It was a sort of synthesis between musician and dancers; and the push and pull of the dancing partners, a dialogue of passion. You were so mesmerized by their movements, you didn’t even take out your camera to capture this scene. But Oikawa already captured an image of you instead.
One the way back to Oikawa’s apartment, you mentioned the dance to him, how the male dancer’s fluid movements were so graceful yet grounded at the same time, and the female dancer whose footwork seemed so effortless and sharp.
“We can too!” He laughed and raised your hand above your head to twirl you around on the old, empty streets of Buenos Aires. Oikawa didn’t know how to tango. He didn’t know how to dance, but his arm rested gently on your waist, already familiar with the contours of your body. And your breath was in tune with his.
Living with Oikawa also came with its own set of challenges. You had your classes at the university and an internship to head off to. He had his practice with his team. Both of you were busy individuals and on top, had lived alone for quite some time.
“Where’s the toilet paper?”
“Y/N, did you forget and put my jersey in the dryer again…”
At some point, your habits and his rituals clashed and grated. What did you expect?
“Why are you taking so long?”
“Fuck! Tooru, toilet seat down after you piss.”
As much as you wanted to rip his pretty head off, he probably wanted to kick you in the shins too.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Not feeling it.”
“Didn’t we have that two nights ago?”
“Okay, so what do you want for dinner?”
“Oh. My. God. Okay, I’m picking then.”
“Wait. Actually, let’s just get burgers.”
Often, it was really stupid. And an hour later, both of you would feel even dumber for arguing about it in the first place. But just like how water running over rocks would polish the surface into pebbles, time together taught you about him and taught him about you.
It occurred to you one day that the juice container in the fridge always had juice. And when you reached into the cabinet, the first one you would find would be the mug you always loved to use.
Oikawa would wake up from a nap, yawning, but still dragging himself to the kitchen to fix a snack, only to find his favorite already on the counter with a note attached. He would tell himself that the lightbulb in the bathroom blew again and that he would have to add that to the to-do list after the stressful competition. But when he went into the bathroom, the lights lit brighter than ever.
Somehow, new habits started forming and new rituals became the norm.
Oikawa’s hands trailed from your hips to your ass, kneading the soft flesh and stabilizing you as you fucked yourself on his cock. Your hands were planted on his abs, fingertips digging into the ridges of his muscles. Oikawa drove his hips up to meet you, driving the tip deeper within each time his skin slapped against yours. Perspiration dotted your hairline as your breasts continued to jiggle and bounce from your movements, wet squelches echoing off the apartment walls.
Oikawa loved seeing you ride him like this, displaying your whole body and desires for him. He thought your silhouette in the dim light was so incredibly beautiful and erotic. You seemed surreal, almost like a seductress in a dream, but your soft, pliant body and your delicious mewls told him you were very much right there with him.
His thumb came over to your clit to rub the sensitive nub, making your whole body shudder.
“Ah, Tooru!” You felt the pads of his fingertips draw out wave after wave of pleasure, each stronger than the last. Oikawa seemed to sparkle between your tear-stained vision. His flushed face and messy yet perfect hair melted into blurs.
“That’s it. Fuck, you feel so good—”
You collapsed onto his torso, arms linking around his neck. Feeling your weight on him gave him so much comfort and reassurance. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, and he pulled your body close, pressing you tight against him. While Oikawa held you, feeling your breasts push against him with every breath you took, he thought he could feel your heartbeat against his own.
Oikawa mercilessly pounded into you beyond your orgasm. Your hands gripped his hair and you rasped into the breathy kiss as you felt Oikawa’s cock twitch before he came hard, filling you with his seed.
Oikawa still couldn’t believe he could have you all to himself for a whole year in Argentina. It seemed like a long time, but each moment with you seemed to fly by faster than he had ever expected. In a blink of an eye weeks have passed already and he tried hard not to think about “later”.
His lips pressed butterfly kisses on your brow, your taste both salty and sweet. He mumbled his adoration for you through his breaths. They were just words, but Oikawa poured himself truthfully into every syllable. By action or by words, he did everything to make sure you knew. Oikawa Tooru didn’t just half-ass things. If he were to love you, he would love you all the way.
“Yes Tooru, I love you too,” you murmured against his lips while relaxed on his body. His cock was still resting in your, comfortable and tucked between your tight muscles; the same way your body fit perfectly right between Oikawa’s arms.
In the darkened room, with just the noise of cars from the streets outside, and the whirr of the fridge from the kitchen, a real thought crossed your mind and his.
Forever. A real forever.
It was a month and a half before you had to go back to Japan. The two of you were lazing on a picnic blanket on the open grass-field. Oikawa was telling you about practice and what the season was going to be like. Then the conversation became about the faucet that was leaking in his apartment and the boiler that the landlord still hadn't gotten fixed yet. You mentioned your thoughts about the other apartments that Oikawa was considering upgrading to: not glamorous by any means, but just a smidge better and closer to the training gym.
You handed a pastafrola to Oikawa and took one for yourself. The lattice design and the rich, colorful filling was sweet and delicious. They were made by a grandpa who lived a floor below Oikawa. He would often give the two of you his baked goods and snacks. And there were also the other people who lived along that neighborhood street you came to call friends. A year was a long time, and a whole year with Oikawa made you feel like Buenos Aires could be home. Because you found home with Tooru. And Tooru found home in you.
The summer night was like when you had first arrived. The night was long and endless. The sound of the street band could be heard in the distance. While laying on the blanket, gazing at the stars that were starting to come out, you felt Oikawa's hands reach for yours. You liked playing with his fingers. They were long, strong yet delicate and gentle. He wove his finger with yours and called out your name. You turned to look at him, the shape of him still visible in the low lights.
"Let's get married."
"Okay." You didn't even register what he suggested. Oikawa couldn't begin to describe how he felt when you said "okay" so nonchalantly. It took a lot out of him to muster out his courage to propose this and it sounded like you were agreeing to have take-out for dinner. He was too nervous to even bring out the photo book you had gifted to him when he first left Japan...the photo book with the remaining pages filled with his pictures of you.
"I picked out the ring we saw last time..." he suggested, trying to gauge your reaction, "if it doesn't fit, or if you don't like it, we can figure out something else..."
"Okay." That's when it hit you, and things started to click together, just barely. Oikawa could sense your breath becoming quicker and he felt a surge of bravery come over him.
"Marry me," he said again. He was asking you to be in the same picture as him moving forward. This time louder. This time clearer. "Would you let me have the honor of becoming your husband?"
"Tooru..." your voice wavered slightly before you composed yourself. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
And with your permission, Oikawa Tooru felt as though he was on top of the world.
The band on your finger felt cool, the sensation on your lips were soft, and your heart filled with too many emotions. Up above, the stars seemed to blur together like fragments of bokeh.
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it's exactly what it looks like.
- ft. oikawa x gn!reader.
- genre: angst to fluff.
"it's not what it looks like," oikawa stammers, eyes blown wide as you stand in the doorway.
there's a stillness in the air as neither of you know exactly know what to make of the current situation. it's not the first time you've found yourself in this position either.
but there is still a tinge of disappointment. he promised this wouldn't happen again. he promised last time would be the last time. he promised no more.
and you can't tell if you're more disappointed in your husband or yourself. you should have known better than to trust oikawa tooru.
there's a lot of words that could describe all the emotions you should be feeling:
betrayal, shock, anger.
but no. instead, as you stare at your husband's shirtless body, the covers haphazardly strewn across his torso, all you can think about is how you should have expected this.
really, though. what else did you think you were going to find, coming home a day early from a business trip at nearly 2 in the morning?
the way you see it, there's really only two options.
option 1: screech at your husband for his recklessness- spare nothing and spout profanities at him, throwing him out to sleep on the couch, or better yet, the streets, no doubt giving your neighbors a show as well.
but that sounded much too troublesome. and if you were being completely honest, some part of you always knew that there was never going to be a last time- that when it came to this, his promises were meaningless.
so instead, you opt for option 2.
you walk over to the other side of the bed, gently pry the half eaten chocolate bar out of your daughter's hands as her absurdly loud snores and a much too mature action movie for a 5-year-old fills the bedroom. you'll deal with the other candy wrappers and fallen popcorn kernels later- the aftermath of a forbidden movie night, one that far surpassed bed time and was riddled with stockpiled treats was a problem for the morning.
with a soft peck to her forehead and a flick and thump to your husband's (there's not a single doubt in your mind that he let her fall asleep, teeth unbrushed), you settle in for the second half of the movie.
you shake your head. tooru never could say no to your daughter. and while you pretend to scold your husband, it was a moot point because the truth is you could never say no to him either.
"i think it's exactly what it looks like."
thanks for reading!
m.list. | crack | angst | fluff
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calling haikyuu characters pretty pt 2 <3
feat. oikawa, bokuto, kuroo and hinata
part one included akaashi, noya, kenma and tendou
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pairing: oikawa tooru x reader
genre: smut, post timeskip
warnings: mdni, oral/throat fucking, begging, sub reader, teasing, bathroom sex, voyeurism?
summary: its oikawas birthday and he invites you to come to his birthday dinner with his family. you, on the other hand, had…other ideas…on how to spend his birthday.
Oikawa was pissed.
He had invited you to go have dinner with him and his family thinking that it’d be a good time to bond with everyone since it was his birthday. But now here you are rubbing his dick through his pants under the table. He could barely hold back his moans as you teased him, his breathing uneven.
“Tooru are you okay?”
His sister looked at him confused. “You look like you’re in pain or something.”
He was mortified hearing his sister’s question, “Y…yeah I’m fine.”
He tried to smile and play it off but he was slowly losing his self control. He grabbed your hand under the table in an attempt to get you to stop but you just smiled at him, “Aw Tooru why do you seem so tense? Is it because I’m here with your family?”
He couldn’t believe the smile you had on your face, like you weren’t the one causing him all his troubles right now. “No! I’m fine.” In his confusion you slipped your hand out from his and rested it on his inner thigh.
His mom let out an awkward laugh, “So, how’s Argentina been?” Oikawa went on and caught up with his family about his ventures in South America.
“It’s been good! I miss seeing you all but I’m glad I got to come back for my birthday.” He really did miss this, especially you since you lived here in Japan. He could only commute between the countries every so often. “Well, we’re all happy to see you home too!” His mom carried on talking and you made your move again, kneading his dick through his pants.
Oikawa tried to grab your hand again but he couldn’t grab it without making a scene. He looked over at you with accusing eyes only to see you looking at him all innocent. He could feel his pants growing wet as the thought of taking you right then and there kept crossing his mind.
“Uncle Tooru you look a little flustered or something” Oikawa just shook his head at Takeru trying to hold it all in by biting the inside of his lip. You chuckled a bit at him and decided to edge him on a little more, “Yeah, Tooru, do you need a hand or anything?”
You slipped your hand into his pants subtly and started stroking him. He’s had enough at this point. He grabbed your hand and excused the both of you from the table rushing to the nearest bathroom with you. He didn’t give a shit right now if his family knew what you two were up to.
He slammed you up against the wall of the bathroom as soon as the the door shut. “I hope you know what you’re in for.”
You gripped at his arms as he kissed your neck, barely able to think straight, “Put it in me Tooru” He pulled away from you and shot you a glare.
“Oh no. You embarrassed me in front of my family. You’re going to have to beg for it.” He stroked his dick to get it hard, not that it wasn’t before. “Now put it in your mouth”
You got on your knees and dragged your tongue along the prominent vein going up and down his length. His body shuttered as you did so. You gently took him in your hand and guided it towards your mouth. He thrusted his hips into you trying to go deeper causing you to choke a bit turning him on even more. “Tooru, please, please put it in me”
He felt his cock twitch at the sight of a string of your saliva connecting from your mouth to him. He let out a staggered breath just thinking about ramming himself into you, his dick ached at the thought of it. “Okay, but…” The look he sent you sent a shiver down your spine. He was still intent on making you wither beneath him for what happened, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you never think about doing what you did ever again”
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✻ a first kiss, for the (late) birthday boy
oikawa is absolutey sure of himself as he approaches you after the last bell of the day. he exudes the confidence of a boy who’d spent several hours rehearsing his words in front of his mirror- and a very disturbed iwaizumi- as he proposes you spend his Monday off from practice at a bakery with him. alone. just the two of you, oikawa and you, a table for two. he’s sure to make this part very clear.
he reeks of triumph when you rather speedily agree, bidding your friends goodbye and falling in step with the proud setter as you finish gathering your things; however, tooru realizes just as quickly that he’s flown far too close to the sun, as the startling reality of being alone with you, the apple of his eye, the light of his life, his obnoxiously long term crush, for the first time ever leaves any remnants of confidence blowing away with the leaves on the schoolyard. he thinks he can vaguely hear iwaizumi’s promise that if he didn’t make a move today, he’d be pinning his arms down while matsukawa shaved his eyebrows off. subconciously, he brings a hand up to rub at the strip of hair while the two of you walk in a painfully awkward silence.
it leaves him a stumbling, blushing, and uncertain mess-- giving you your very first glimpse at what laid beyond tooru oikawa’s typical faux demanor.
it’s endearing, of course, it’s utterly sweet knowing that you of all people have managed to pick away at some of the fabricated layers he kept wrapped snugly arround himself, but admittedly it’d be a little sweeter if the sneak peek hadn’t come at the cost of your nasal cavity.
nearly two hours after the two of you sat down, the thick jelly of awkwardness once surrounding the pair of you now melted down to a puddle beneath your feet, the brunette decides that- yeah, he certainly has to make a move. his cheeks ache from the smile you managed to keep plastered on his face, and he likes the way you talk with your hands, and how you flush and apologize each time your feet touch beneath the table or your hands touch on top of it as if it weren’t painfully obvious you were doing it on purpose.
you couldn’t flirt to save your life, you don’t know much about volleyball, or aliens, and you haven’t seen any of his favorite movies; but he’s a little glad, because he gets to walk you through the aspects of his life he held closest to his heart.
so oikawa tooru decides beneath the setting sun that he is going to kiss you, effective immediatley.
he’s sure he has the trajectory right as he begins to lean forward, a warm hand skillfully pulling your face a tad closer-- but then, oh, had you gotten new shampoo?-- and your faces were clashing like something out of every “worst date ever” reddit thread.
he screeches out apologies as he clamps his hands over his eyes and prepares for the worst. he says goodbye to his eyebrows, but supposes that such a drastic change to his appearance was rather suiting for his “change name and flea country immediatley” plan. he pleads that when heopens his eyes you’ll be gone and this will all just have been some skillfully crafted nightmare, but when a pair of softer hands manage to pull his own away from his red face, he’s instead met with your smiling lips pressing against his own.
this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, so I figured I’d post just a short n sweet little piece for oikawa’s day <3 it’s not good, but it’s posted so. hurray! im literally posting this as I walk out the door 2 avoid the embarrassment of posting.
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oikawa is the only thing keeping you ground right now. his breath soft on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around you, the quiet little “its okay”s slipping off of his tongue.
your head was loud right now. too loud. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, mind full of a million thoughts and unwanted memories and worries and lies and-
“hey, can you look at- yeah, there’s my pretty baby,” oikawa interrupts your thoughts yet again, his voice soft and calming despite how fast his own heart was beating.
he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. his eyes slipped shut as he pressed his forehead against yours, whispering under his breath that everything was going to be okay.
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there for you
↳ tooru x g!n reader
↳ fluff, quick drabble, slice of life i think??
↳ a/n: i wrote this at midnight, internally crying because it's our baby tooru's birthday i love him <3 sorry if i'm a bit late though.. it's actually 7/20 where i live. hope you enjoy :)
"Tooru, it's your birthday!!" You say for the hundredth time, waving your hands at him even though he's slouched on the couch just a few feet away.
He sighs, a smile ghosting his lips. "Thanks for remembering. It seemed no one else would."
You roll your eyes, sitting next to him. "There's a whole fan club for you, Tooru. I bet they've set up a not-so-surprise surprise birthday party already."
"But that doesn't count since it's not coming from you~"
There's a hint of a whine in his voice but you pretend to ignore it.
"Anyway, can you guess what I've got you?"
He straightens his posture and eyes you, obviously interested. "No," Oikawa grins. "What is it?"
"Tsk. It won't be half as good if I tell you." You grab his hand, leading him out the door. "Are you ready?"
When you glance at his visage, you laugh. With his bright eyes and lively laugh, he looked and sounded like an enthusiastic child. Yet on the other hand, with his suit and tie, he had the fine characteristics of a handsome young man.
"It's right across your house, so make sure to close your eyes!"
"No peeking, Tooru. I see you!"
"I wasn't peeking~"
"Yes, you were!!"
Guiding him over the steps and toward the destined location, you smile.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now!"
Oikawa's eyes flutter open and you wait excitedly as he slowly takes in his surroundings. Not two seconds later, you see his beautiful brown orbs glistening with tears, those eyes you had fallen in love with years ago.
"Thank you so much," he breathes, and you can't decide whether he's saying that to you or the familiar figures standing in front of him.
Iwaizumi comes over and pats him on the back. "Happy birthday, Shittykawa."
"Iwa~~ does it hurt you to say my name for once?" Oikawa pouts, looking to you for back up.
"You're on your own." You smile at his childishness.
Then he surprises you by saying, "I love you Y/N."
"Ugh, here comes the sappy stuff," Makki and Matsun roll their eyes, smirking. Despite it, you know that deep inside, they're all happy for you and Oikawa.
"I love you too."
And ignoring his friends' groans, Oikawa slides a warm, calloused hand on your neck and brushes his lips on yours. Soft at first, then passionately.
Safe to say no heads were punched and no faces were caked :)
reblogs are always appreciated!
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p r i o r i t y
a/n: All of these works will be part of a mini anthology series called “the quiet things.” They’re all based on the ever popular “100 Ways to Say I Love You” prompts and sometimes “50 Wordless Ways to Say I Love You.” I’ll be crossposting it on AO3, too. Enjoy. ❤️
© all content and ideas belong to me even if characters do not.
pairing: oikawa tooru x reader
prompts: “don't worry about me.” // listening to them while they vent.
music suggestion: at my worst - pink sweat$ + kehlani
back to series masterlist
back to haikyuu masterlist
Although today had been the worst day you'd had in a while thus far, there was one cherry on top that you knew would make everything better, and that was seeing your boyfriend.
Being that he spent the better half of the day playing a game and then traveling straight back home, Tooru never did get to hear how awful your boss was towards you. He never heard how he laid you out and then proceeded to throw you under the boss. And he especially didn't hear how you had to hop off the Zoom meeting so you could take a breather, and maybe cry to yourself a little bit.
That was why it didn't matter to you that you had to drive straight to the airport after work to see him either because you knew the moment you saw him, it'd be worth it. It'd be worth all the traffic that you ran into. It would be worth hitting every red light on the way there. And it would definitely be worth the crappy parking that seemed to exist in every airport on earth.
Despite everything you managed to run into on the way there, you still got there earlier than Tooru. He wasn't due to land for at least another ten minutes, and you knew there was extra time to be added to that as everyone filed out of the plane one by one. He texted you when he could, with what little service he had to update you as much as possible. And each little message made your heart beat a little faster, adorably punctuated with as many emojis as Oikawa could fit in as well as making sure to let you know how much he missed you and couldn't wait to see you.
He was only gone for a week, but it was the longest the two of you had been separated in a while. The two of you missed each other terribly, and you weren't ashamed to admit that you missed him more.
Tooru himself was always larger than life, and his presence was never more missed or felt than when he was absent.
You missed everything about him. Most notably, you missed hearing him sing off-key in the shower. You missed the way he'd randomly walk by you just to smoosh your cheeks together so he could give you a huge kiss. But most of all, you missed the way he'd nuzzle his cheek against your bare stomach in the mornings, his long brown hair tickling you all while he pressed the lightest kisses against your skin.
Whenever he did that in particular, you'd joke and call him clingy, to which he'd happily and proudly claim that he was, with a, "for you? Absolutely."
When you thought of that, you couldn't help but break into a smile. You were sure you looked silly, giggling to yourself while you stared at nothing in particular as you waited to meet Tooru at the baggage claim but you didn't care. Seven days without seeing him was far too long, and after the day you'd had, it was also much needed.
"What's so funny, cutie?" you heard a voice behind you asking, the teasing lilt so familiar that you felt butterflies the instant you heard it.
You spun around so fast you almost got whiplash, wasting no time to cry out your boyfriend's name, arms outstretched wide as you flung yourself into his arms. Tooru's duffle bag dropped to the floor with a thud, and he immediately lifted you up into the tightest hug imaginable, littering kisses all over your face as he spun you around and cooed every pet name he had for you against your lips and cheeks.
On a normal occasion, the public display of affection would've made your cheeks flush with warmth as it always did anytime Oikawa would show everyone how much he loved you. He was far from stingy with it, and while you found it sweet, it never did fail to make you a little embarrassed or shy—something you were sure your boyfriend relished in anyway.
That was a normal occasion.
But today was far from normal.
Today was what you would have considered a bad day, and being loved and doted on from having only seen your boyfriend in the span of a minute or two made your heart warm.
When he finally let you down, you stayed with your head buried in his chest and Oikawa easily took the hint, making sure to pet your back with sweet, gentle motions. He gave you a light kiss to your forehead before pulling away, making sure to scan over you as he did.
"You look cute," he said with a genuine smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he complimented you. "I like this dress, it looks so nice on you," he added while his other hand snaked down to playfully tug at the hem of your skirt.
You gave him a light-hearted roll of your eyes, placing your hand on his chest to give him a gentle shove over how flirty he was being.
Tooru was always flirting with you, from the moment he met you to the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend to now. He'd never miss the opportunity to compliment you, tease you, or tell you how much he admired you. You were sure that, while he was being sincere, that he also got a rise out of it. He loved to see your reaction to him, and the more shy you got over it, the harder he'd flirt with you.
Sometimes, when the two of you would go out to run errands together, he'd even go as far as making sure to separate himself from you so he could find you again only to pretend he didn't know you. He'd then proceed to flirt up a storm with you, as if he were meeting you for the first time all over again, and it never failed to send you into a fit of giggles and covering your warm face with your hands.
"Thank you, baby," you answered, your hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. "You look really good, too."
And he did look good. Clad in turquoise volleyball jacket, a simple white tee, and gray sweatpants, Tooru looked like he had just stepped off a photoshoot. Even with messy, somewhat bedhead curls, his hair still looked perfect, and not even his tired eyes could take away from his looks.
Normally, Oikawa would've countered back with some typical flirty response or teased you but he didn't do that today. Instead, he merely stared at you for a long while before giving you a soft smile and taking your hand in his. He brushed his lips across your knuckles with a gentle kiss then let go when he saw your expression soften.
"Come on, princess. Let's go home. I'll drive," he added with an even sweeter smile, slinging his duffle bag back up onto his shoulder before taking your keys away from you.
After the long drive home, the first thing Oikawa did when he got back was shower and collapse onto the bed with you to "rest his eyes."
Resting his eyes turned into a two, almost three hour nap. It was needed, and when Tooru woke up to see that you weren't there, he breathed out a sigh of frustration.
The last thing he actually wanted to do was sleep even though the time difference was still messing with him and he was tired.
What he wanted to do was talk to you, about whatever horrible day you'd clearly had.
He was always particularly astute at reading people, and he personally thought that he was best at reading you in particular.
From the moment he started texting you in the morning, he knew that something was wrong with you based on the shortness of your texts. He could hear it in the way you sighed over the phone when there would be pauses in the conversation. And Oikawa knew it especially when he saw your face, the slightest yet most obvious signs of stress visible in brief moments of talking to you.
He was almost sure it had to do with work because your boss (who he despised) had been on your case for a while. And although he could've easily taken care of you and even offered it to you multiple times, you were firm in wanting to maintain your autonomy and your own life and he couldn't help but respect it. You were incredible at your job. Tooru even admired you for it. But God, if he didn't want you to find another employer and soon.
Because to him, you deserved to be recognized for all your brilliance both in and outside of work. Because in his eyes, you deserved to be treated with kindness and respect at all times because if there was one person he thought should be shielded from the cruelties of the world, it was you whom he loved with all his heart. To him, you deserved the world; and the more he laid in bed and thought about it, he wasn't sure if he was talking about your job anymore.
With another sigh, he brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, hoping to eradicate the grogginess he felt. Once he did that, he shuffled off of the bed so he could find you. When he made his way out of the bedroom, he immediately smiled because he could hear you humming in the kitchen.
It was something he missed terribly while he was away from you. That, coupled with you pressing your ice cold feet against his thighs, and waking up to see your beautiful face in the morning.
"Whatcha making, pretty?" he asked as he passed by you in the kitchen.
When you turned around to answer him, Tooru didn't hesitate to smoosh your cheeks together so he could give you a big kiss. You pulled away with a laugh and he grinned.
"Ramen. Your favorite kind," you answered.
Oikawa hummed in acknowledgement as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin over your shoulder as he watched you stir the pot.
The smell of the broth was fragrant and making him sleepy, and he couldn't have been happier that you were making this for him. And while he wanted to press (something he actually rarely did with you) about your day, he figured that now wasn't the right time.
So he merely stayed in the kitchen with you while you cooked. And it was there that he realized just how much he missed you. As he relished in the way you would shyly giggle when he flirted with you and teased you, he made a silent promise to himself that the next time he had an away game, you'd have to come no matter what.
After dinner, Tooru actually came to the decision that he wouldn't press you about your day.
He wanted to let you tell him yourself, and he was so sure you would.
Except you didn't, even hours later when the two of you were cuddled up on the couch together watching some crappy Netflix show together.
It was beginning to vex him; not that you weren't venting to him, but because he knew the reason you weren't doing it was because you were probably worried about him. Tooru was sure you were avoiding venting to him today because you wanted to save it for tomorrow and the excuses you'd list off would be because "he just got home, he must be tired, and you don't want to bother him."
He huffed out an annoyed breath at the thought of this, the air blowing his bangs away and began to pout.
"What's wrong?" you asked when you heard him, turning your head to the side to get a better look at him.
He knew his lips were twisted to the side the way they'd always he when he got annoyed, and he knew his brows were furrowed in that way they always were when he was frustrated.
"Nothing," he answered, even more annoyed by how childish he sounded.
"Tooru," you laughed and put both hands to his face, cupping his cheeks together. "What's with the pout?"
"I'm not pouting," he continued, lips poking out more than ever.
"Yes you are," you said, an amused smirk dancing across your face. "What's wrong?"
The word "nothing" hit the tip of his tongue again, but Tooru managed to keep it at bay this time. Instead of talking, he put his hands over yours and brought them down, idly playing with your fingers.
"Baby," he whined, "you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
Your confused face only made him a little more frustrated, but when you answered with a soft and resigned, "of course I do," he let out a sigh of relief.
"Then why won't you tell me about your bad day?" Oikawa practically whimpered. You began to protest, but he cut you off and brought your hands to his chest. "I know you had a crappy day. I can always tell when something's wrong with you. Why won't you talk to me?"
Tooru knew he was being childish but he couldn't help it. It was simply the way he was, and he was openly like this with you because even when he was sure it annoyed you, you never seemed to mind too much, understanding him better than most people would.
And just as he expected, you released all the tension in your shoulders and face and looked down, finally showing the way the day had broken you in every part of you.
"I...I just—" you began and stopped, but continued when Oikawa squeezed your hands to encourage you to keep going. "I wanted to talk about it tomorrow. You just got home, Tooru. You're probably tired and I didn't want to bother you."
You frowned and Oikawa merely laughed at your response, partially amused by exactly how well he knew you and because he was amused by how absolutely considerate you were of him at all times.
Sometimes he thought you were too considerate of him, and you didn't realize all the ways that you came first to him. Among the few things he considered a priority, you were amongst them, and if he were being truthful, you were probably the biggest one among them all.
Tooru shook his head and stared at you with a fond tenderness.
"Don't worry about me, baby," he answered softly, almost uncharacteristically. "Now tell me all about your day," he continued, tugging on your hands. "Please."
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hiii may i request #23 for oikawa’s birthday event? thank you!! 💘
Prompt 23 - “Just one more kiss”
Pairing: Tōru Oikawa x Gn!Reader
Tags: Fluff, Kissing, Emotional Departures
Word Count: 454
A/n: Man Idk if I could handle Tōru going to away games without me going with him. What about you??
Away games were hard, on both you and Tōru. Not saying that you haven’t had years to get used to it, but it was still hard each time. Especially for your husband. He hated leaving and he always worried about you when he was gone.
But the two of you would always talk and video call while Tōru was away. Assuring him that you were okay and doing fine on your own for the time being. However, this time Tōru started even before you guys got to the airport.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” “It won’t be that long, I promise.” “I hate leaving you.” Phrases you heard all the way to the airport as you replied to every single one of them, trying to give your husband peace of mind. You weren’t sure why this time of all times, he was really going at it with the concern. But you knew that he’d just say these things anyway so you let it be.
Once the two of you were finally ready to depart though, Tōru visibly pouted as he dropped his bags on the ground. His arms wrapped around you and his face nuzzled down into your neck. You smiled and leaned into your husband’s embrace as you closed your eyes.
“It’ll go by fast. It’s okay Tōru. C’mon you’re going to be late boarding your plane..” you try to usher him and let go of him.
Eventually he lets go too but he moves his hands to your cheeks, cupping them softly and whispering, “Just one more kiss..?” More of a question however, to see if you’ll let him do so.
“Babe you don’t ever have to ask if you can kiss me, y’know. You can kiss me any time, I’m you’re wi-”
Your words were interrupted by his lips pressed against yours, urgent but soft. The kiss lasted a good few minutes before he managed to pull himself away. Leaving you a bit breathless as you flutter your eyes open.
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” you ask with a soft smile as your hand cups his cheek, feeling the tug at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen, but I know you’ll miss me just as much!” he exclaims and grins.
“Yeah yeah. Go on, get” you chuckle and shake your head.
After saying “I love you” and Tōru telling you he’ll call you when they land, you watch him go. Staying there until you see the plane take off out the window. You really would miss him a lot. But you were looking forward to the call when he landed, and hearing all about the experience of his plane ride.
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[ oikawa tooru x gn! reader ]
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, some swearing, verbal fights, oikawa is lowkey a jerk, fucking it out, hate sex ig but it got kinda fluffy, angst to fluff but this is just a roller coaster of emotions, but fluff tho bc fluff
a/n: woulda been done sooner but i was watching beastars at like twelve in the morning and i wrote this in like an hour so excuse the mistakes im honestly just trynna have fun feeding you guys at this point
<- back to oikawa's birthday masterlist
Music blaring from upstairs pissed you the hell off. I mean who did they think they were. Now, you'd become best friends with one of the guy's who blasted music so hard it made your room buzz from the bass of it. Your newest friend had sympathy for you and turned it down for you so you could study in peace, but the weekend he was gone you met the arrogant son of a bitch that smiled in your face and told you he'd keep it down. But you didn't get down the hall when it was blaring again.
And so it began, the war between you and Oikawa. You went up to get Takahiro and his roommate poking at you, subtle insults that you easily returned, poking at his volleyball performance. He called you fat and you called his serves sloppy.
Eventually his friends and yours just kept you both away from each other, but it was hard to make that hate simmer down when Oikawa would purposely blast his music.
And one day, he actually thought that he'd won when you didn't come up to yell in his face. But upon opening his door that morning, he was drenched in white. You were asleep when it happened, when the dye you set up above Oikawa's door had soaked all the way down to his scalp his neighbors were the first to hear his girlish scream. The dye came out of his skin and the hallway floor, but not his hair. He came screeching to you that morning and it was hilarious seeing him at your front door like a wet cat.
He yelled so much, but you were too preoccupied taking pictures of him in your face and storming off.
Oikawa had cranked up the volume and that was just about all Makki had just about enough of you and Oikawa to where he'd sent Oikawa down there on a whim that you believed his girlfriend broke up with him because he'd lost his last game from being incompetent and arrogant.
Makki left before the screaming match could begin. Locking the apartment and leaving the music blaring and praying he didn't do the wrong thing.
You and Oikawa were at each other's necks. His laugh nearly made you slap him across the face, but after — oh yeah, i'd bet you couldn't handle anything he dished out at you — it'd really gone down.
You were pressed against the door, Oikawa's hand wrapped around your neck and fingers sunken deep into you, pistoning his fingers into you while your head was tossed back, glaring right back at Oikawa's smug smirk while you tried to fight moans and whimpers while his fingers sank into you.
"You're so quiet now. You loved screaming your lungs out at me just a few seconds ago, where's all that, babe?" Oikawa hummed as if he wasn't rock hard and grinding against your thigh.
Your fingers curled into his hair, grabbing a handful of hair and watching him yelp, his cock twitching in his sweats before he groaned, removing his hand from you to pin both above your head while you gave him a smirk. "Thought you could handle me."
He didn't know what to say, mouth opening and then closing before you yanked his arm, moving to shove him onto your couch and situating yourself over him leaning your weight into his arms that were pinned underneath your calves. He was forced to glare up at you while you rubbed your slick over the tent in his sweats.
To see the guy you drew up a wall and clearly strong enough to shove you off unable to bring himself to stop your hips from creating a mess over his sweats seemed like sweet revenge. "This is what your girlfriend worked with? Honestly, Oikawa I thought you would've had more balls to you."
He snagged an arm loose, but he was stopped when you started stroking him through his ruined sweats. His face becoming pink, sighing and leaning his head back with a shaky groan and tangling his hand in his hair trying to keep himself in line. "F-Fuck.." He whined as your hand kept it's same speed, never speeding up just smirking over him when you leaned down into him, sucking at his neck while his hand travelled behind you to tease your heat.
Your hand sped up then and his limbs felt heavy when you were leaving hot kisses to the column of his neck and stroking him faster like that.
Seeing his hair falling every which way and free of it's usual gel, slicked back and wild strands sticking to his face made you grin. He looked like a mess and all it took was you palming him in your hand.
You lowered yourself, crouching in front of him as his hands cupped your cheeks when you teased his length, ready to sink your mouth down. His head thrown back when your mouth latched to him and began sinking further into your mouth.
"Good." He groaned so loudly into your apartment, "Oh fuck, that's so— s-so good." His hips were trying to buck into your mouth. He was in the palm of your hand and near ready to cum when your teeth scraped over his outer skin.
Oikawa yanked your head off so fast you were afraid that'd you'd fucked up, but you only laughed when he had you propped up on the couch, hand curling around your neck and forcing it up awkwardly and glaring down at you, "Think you can fuck with me like that, hm?"
The slap on your ass made you flinch, but your laugh fell to a hum when you felt him sliding his dick between your cheeks. It felt like heaven the way his hand came down harder, this time making you cry out and legs shake at the bittersweet sting he gave.
"Such a fucking brat." Bringing his hand down again with the same weight and watching you lean away from his hand and more into the couch. "Walk around so fucking pretty and then have the audacity to insult me."
You snickered, but it was cut short by his hand on your ass. You smirked, swaying the globes of the swollen flesh at him only making him scoff, unable to keep his own smirk off his face. You were fucking perfect, getting your ass spanked and you still had the nerve to smirk up at him. "You're a jackass."
Then you insulted him making his grin widen. A warmth crept up his back and he leaned down, pressing his lips hotly to yours. Something about your soft body on his made him swell harder on your back, one hand rubbing your stomach when his hand came down on your ass again, feeling you flinch and whimper into his mouth. The next making you tear away and cling to the couch with a moan.
Oikawa did nothing, but laugh like the little masochist he was. "Y'done insulting me?"
You sighed, rocking your hips into his when he leaned up, turning your chin upwards into that awkward position to watch you grin up at him, "Nope."
You laughed, hand finding his hip to sink your nails into his hip making his hand come down on your other cheek making you jolt forward with a new onslaught of pain that only spurred you on despite your teary eyes.
Oikawa hummed, spanking your ass as he pleased until you were flinching at his hand palming the heated and stinging flesh. Plenty of precum smeared on your lower back and ass was nothing short of a work of art to him. He sighed, listening to the sounds of one of his favorite songs to crank up in the middle of the night while he did sets.
"You rap about an Audi too much," Singing along while he palmed your ass. "Because my Audi paid off bitch, hush." His hand came down on your ass again and he laughed when you yelped out into the apartment. "Why she yellin' so much?"
"Shut the fuck up." You snapped, but it only made him laugh at how you twisted the lyrics at him.
Oikawa leaning over you, grinning as his hands curled over the back of yours, putting his weight into them as you looked up at him out the side of your eyes, nodding like you didn't have tears streaming down your face.
His brow raising, fingers tracing up your side and watching you shiver, already so responsive to his touch. "You want it?"
You bit your lip, using the weight he put into your laced fingers and leaning up and still managing to give him that smirk that drove him up a wall. You could see it. The way a new light took his eyes before he yanked a tangled hand back to press down on your lower back as he rubbed his hips against your ass, letting his length work up your lower back only to tease your opening.
He grinned at your whimpers, leaning back to sink his fingers into your hole, watching his fingers be sucked into your heat making your legs shake as he tapped at that spongy spot.
"Don't know if I should fuck this slutty little hole, what would everyone think?"
You rolled your eyes, leaning your hips up so his tip caught, the crown of his cock inside of you making you both moan. Oikawa nearly shoved all of himself into you, a shudder running up his spine as he gasped, nails digging into your hips.
"They'll think you fucked me so good," You whimpered into the cushions, drool beginning to soak them from your parted lips.
OIkawa couldn't find it in himself to laugh when he already felt his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. Your slick was all over the tops of his thighs and the back of yours, already running down your legs from how he'd been fingering and rubbing his soaked cock up and down your ass. The sight itself was mouth watering.
"M'not gonna last, babe." He huffed, shoving himself fully inside of you so easily. He groaned, barely acknowledging the fact that a chill forced itself up his back before he was thrusting into you.
It made the couch jolt, but he could care less when he felt the nudge of your sweet spot beckoning him deeper. You whimpered, moaning out his name and digging your nails deeper into his hip every time he found himself balls deep into your heat. One thrust and you were moaning so prettily, a second and he was leaning over you relishing in how you convulsed around him, and a third made you both groggily look up only to find yourselves on the ground.
Oikawa huffed, finding himself on his side and you who was on your back, bleary eyes finding his before he laughed, turning to get up. But he felt himself stopped by a throbbing in his knee. He scoffed, briefly thinking about how his weight shifted into it when the couch met the floor.
He caught your gaze, but had you over his shoulder hearing your protests only stopping when you saw him kneel in between your legs. You moaned so loudly when his tongue flattened as he licked a thick stripe up the mess on your sex. Your hands burying themselves in his hair when he repeated the same action, only this time sinking his fingers into you. He smirked against you when your legs had assumed their position over his shoulders, trying to get him closer.
A pitched squeal making him laugh against you when his tongue found that spot that made you spasm while his fingers were pistoning in and out of you, watching you cry out before yanking his head up and shaking your head, out of breath as he stared at you confused.
"I'm riding." You told him. "I'm top."
"Like hell—" He scoffed, laughing, but you flipped him so fast that he was looking up with wide eyes, hands finding your hips as he pushed himself high enough to be leaning back on your headboard, pressing kisses to your neck and sucking the flesh to leave marks you couldn't hide.
"I'm fine." He hummed, getting ready to turn the tables when your hand found his knee making him wince. He gave in, eyes narrowing and feet planting into the bed when you lined yourself up with him before sinking down onto him.
"Shut up." You breathed, hands running up his skin before met with the resistance of his shirt caught underneath his arms.
You smirked at how quick he was to pull it off, lifting up and testing the waters only to feel him pressing flush against a spot that made your breathing ragged. You huffed, leaning your weight into his shoulders, brows furrowing as you tried to focus on not cumming right then as to prove his point.
His lips found yours again, the distraction you needed to find the pace you wanted, rolling your hips against his before picking up the pace.
Oikawa pulled away from you, groaning into your neck, finally shoving his hips up into you when he knew you were too lost to say anything. Pressing almost painfully into you making you cry and your nails dig into his shoulders, pitched moans filling the room while he whined and latched onto a nipple before he could barely focus on that.
When his knee gave, you continued your pace and became frantic bouncing on his cock making him cry and press hard back into the headboard that kept slamming against the wall with your every bounce.
"I'm cumming, fuck, baby. Cum right now." He shouted, a hand coming down on your ass making you jolt into him, mindlessly working yourself through your orgasm until Oikawa flipped you both onto your sides to help you until you stopped and he collapsed, exhausted.
His head was leaned on yours that was tucked in his neck, his hand rubbing up and down your bare thigh and peppering kisses over the hickeys he left on your shoulder.
"I hate to say it, but that was some good ass sex." He laughed, dropping his head into your neck. He thought to prop himself up on his elbow for a second, checking you over when you didn't respond to find you already fast asleep against him.
He gave a huff, leaning down to nose your cheek as you slept cuddled to him. You looked tired. Not from your recent activities, but he noticed the slight bags underneath your eyes. He supposed weeks of him blasting music was the reason. A melody from a song that wasn't on his playlist made him realize that his speakers were still going and he'd fucked you through at least a couple hours of songs.
A slam woke you, eyes blearily opening to messed up pillows and a pretty blue compression shirt on your lamp when you sat up, remembering your screaming match with Oikawa and then...
Footsteps made you look over and Oikawa looked over with an awkward smile, a slight limp to his walk when he set a bottle of water next to you before climbing over you to drop beside you on the bed. You blinked, moving to shield some of yourself, "Did we actually—"
He nodded, watching you sit up and look over to find him not in ruined sweats but basketball shorts and a knee brace. Your head whipped back to him remembering when you both fell.
"You landed on your knee—"
"Handled it." He sang, fishing a bottle of aspirin out of his pocket. "Brought it in case you might've been sore." He wiggled his brows, but you rolled your eyes when you felt his hand over one of yours. "You slept for like an hour-"
"What?!" You screeched, "Why'd you let me sleep for so long?"
"Because I always keep you up till four in the morning." He said on a quiet breath, eyes somber as his hands wiggled to find its way underneath yours. "And for not being a decent neighbor."
"Whatever." You shrugged, about to get up when Oikawa stopped you, tugging your hand and making you look at him.
"I don't want to be the reason you get carried into an ambulance because you're exhausted from not getting enough sleep."
"That wasn't your fault." You muttered, getting up to find it was your ruined shirt when you felt something hit you. You'd caught it to find it was Oikawa's shirt and you threw it back, when he sat up with interest despite taking a shirt to the face.
"Why then? Did you get into a fight or something?" He watching you go to your closet only to realize most of your comfortable clothes were in the wash. He held up his shirt again and you sighed, accepting it when he threw it again.
"No." You told him, starting to go pick up the couch that fell over in you and Oikawa's haste to find that it was already flipped over. You'd left him in the bedroom, only muttering about not eating right because you were 'fat'.
But Oikawa heard as he was on your heels from the beginning.
"What?" His voice made you jump making you drop a glass only for him to catch it. "You actually believed that?"
You shrugged again, but he'd stopped you, taking your face in his hand and tilting it up so your eyes lifted to his. His hair was pulled back, save for bangs that were too short to pull back that gave some relief to the intense look he was giving you.
"You're already this gorgeous fucking person." He said in earnest, leaning his forehead on yours, "And the way all my friends talk about you sucks because you're this perfect little angel and all I get is 'shut up, you jackass'. I’m sorry."
"Do it again and I won't forgive you so easily."
You turned your head away from him, going to fill your cup when he tugged at the shirt that hung low on you, "Can I touch you?" He asked as if he didn't fuck you to sleep half an hour ago.
The way he looked at you made your heart flutter and you nodded, muttering affirmation and he was on you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back into him, burying his face into the nape of your neck. "Oikawa—"
"Tooru." He corrected quietly, lips pressed to the skin exposed by a neckline that hung sideways on you. Your hand ghosted his before he opened it from where it was on your stomach.
You felt his lips curl from where they were on your neck when your hand found his and you relaxed into him. He tucked his chin on your shoulder, pressing his nose to your cheek. A glance would show the dimple on his cheek as he smiled. It was a sight that made your stomach do flips, especially when his next words came so softly.
"Dating is better than arguing. Can we date?"
You dropped your glass and he peaked over your shoulder, looking down at the glass then you before giving a cheeky smile.
"Was that a yes?"
do not plagarise or copy works for use, reblog if you liked it <333
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two hearts, four broken pieces (now we’re unbreakable)
notes: happiest belated birthday to my grand king <3 lots of (long?) dialogue, long talks at the beach, kinda clunky, but i hope you enjoy :> song accompaniment recommendation: unbreakable by lauren dyson (carole & tuesday) & everything i need by skylar grey! also posted on ao3.
summary: you were there like the air when i felt like i was underwater. AU in which you have matching birthmarks on your heart as your soulmate. - oikawa/oc
The clock ticks continually as you finish reviewing the club budget for the upcoming school year. As the last rays of the sun begin to dim into a darkening blue, the clock rings loudly, signaling the end of club activities. The other student council members routinely leave by five, and after a quick goodbye and wave, two hours pass by without you knowing. You glance at your watch, and you sigh softly as you see the shorthand reach seven.
There are still numbers that do not add up, but you suppose that has to wait. Getting up to stretch, you automatically head to the keys cabinet to see which keys are still missing. As usual, the keys to the volleyball gym have yet to be returned.
Like any other day, you sigh again. This is a rather normal occurrence as the volleyball team tends to stay as late as you do. Normally, you don't mind since it’s not a big deal - you’re usually still here to lock up after they leave. Today, however, you’re rather exhausted and would like to finish up your report and just go home. Putting on your white blazer and patting down the wrinkles of your tan skirt, you make certain you’re presentable before you head out of the room and towards the volleyball gym.
A resounding smack reverberates through the air before you even enter the gym. You knock twice on the gym doors, and when there is no answer, you open the doors soundlessly and enter the gym. The gym is unoccupied except for one lone player, making the echoes of each movement louder.
He doesn’t notice you, and as you see him jump to hit a serve, you are in awe by the strength and impact of it as it lands. It astonishes you a little to discover the normally flirty eyes and teasing smiles with such intense concentration and seriousness. When you see a faint smile on his face as his serve lands within the lines of the court, you wonder if this is what he really is like. As he recovers another ball to try again, you clear your throat. This time, you catch his attention, somewhat.
“Sorry, Iwa-chan! You don’t have to wait for me. I’m almost done!” he calls out, eyes never leaving the court.
“Sorry, Oikawa-san. I am not Iwaizumi-san. While I do have to say I am extremely impressed with your tenacity, I am afraid it's late and time for you to go home,” you say politely with a perfectly practiced smile on your face.
The ball he tossed into the air previously drops straight down onto the floor and bounces as he hears your voice. He jerks his head towards you, and you almost want to laugh when you see his gaping mouth.
“Oh, Pres-chan! I wasn’t expecting you!” he recovers swiftly, a hand behind his head and his tongue sticking out humorously.
Ah, he’s back to his normal self.
“Apologies again,” you nod, a courteous smile never leaving your face, despite your slight disdain for your new nickname. You’ve learned it is easiest to deal with people with a perfect smile, lips upturned slightly at a 45-degree angle and eyes crinkled together lightly.
He stares at you intensely as you smile. While his eyes are analytical enough to press anyone under, it doesn’t bother you because you are used to such scrutiny.
“I’ll pack up! Pres-chan, wait for me! I’ll walk you home since it’s so late.” He finally softens in his stares and begins picking up the balls around the court.
“No need to worry about me, Oikawa-san. There are still some matters for me to finish up at the student council room,” you assure him courteously despite your mild annoyance at your stray strand of hair that fell out of your neat ponytail as you tuck it behind your ear.
“No, no! I insist! It’s so late, so it’s dangerous for cute girls like you, Pres-chan!” he protests as he continues cleaning.
You begin assisting him to pick up the balls and grab the mops to clean up the gym. The more hands there are, the faster you two get to leave. After cleaning up the gym and returning the keys to the student council room, you continue to decline his offer of walking you home. Being around him for a little less than 30 minutes has already tired you, but you find it more draining to talk him out of it so you just relent.
He accompanies you back to your house at your pace, constantly filling the silence with some sort of conversation. He seems to recognize your need for distance, so he keeps the conversation light, never diving in deeper than what you are willing to give. You respond as amiable as you could with this surface-level sort of conversation. This is comfortable, this is straightforward, this is not about who you are, so you find it easy to keep up your practiced smile and pleasantry.
For what it’s worth, you can understand why he’s so popular. He’s attractive, and his personality is tolerable enough. But something about him is slightly unpleasant to you. You have an inkling of what it is, but you’re not ready to open the tightly sealed jar of emotions yet.
When you reach your stop and he bids you goodbye, you find yourself face to face with your cousin, who just squeals and questions you.
“Who is he?” she exclaims loudly, far too energetic for so late at night. “What if he is your soulmate?!”
You smile tersely, “He is just a classmate.”
She only looks at you in confusion. “Eh? You never know! Did you already see his mark?”
You flash her a practiced smile as you excuse yourself.
“No, I was born without one.”
You like routine. This is something you’ve established for as long as you remember. If things are set in place, set in stone, then they are less likely to fall apart, to break.
So when walking home with Oikawa Tooru stays as a recurring part of your days, it makes you uneasy.
This is not part of your normal routine. But you suppose him returning the volleyball gym keys instead of you wrestling him for them is also not part of your normal routine.
“You know, for someone so smart, you’re kind of dumb."
You finally look up from your papers. Your pen still in hand, eyes in disbelief, and voice laced with venom as you hiss, “Excuse me?”
“Pres-chan, even I know when to stop. It's nearly 8 in the evening. Your body needs rest so you can function as efficiently as you always want to,” he rolls his eyes as he air-quotes the word efficiently. The volleyball gym keys jingle in his hand as he does so, and the sound of it aggravates your headache.
"This is coming from the one who stays behind two hours every day after club activity ends? Stop trying to preach what you don’t practice." Your grip on your pen tightens.
"I take Mondays off," he shrugs and offers a lopsided smile. There's a serious glint in his eyes despite his casual gestures.
You know he's right because the keys to the volleyball club always hang neatly and untouched every Monday. You know he's right when you finally let yourself feel the tiredness in your body. You know he's right when your headache finally catches up to you, but you simply cannot completely let go.
Maybe he sees your sagging shoulders and weary eyes, so he doesn't press the matter anymore. He hangs the clubroom keys in the cabinet before he walks over.
"You can rest, you know?"
You do, but you can't. Not when there are so many reports to fill out and papers to file, not when the club budgeting still isn't adding up, not when you have to be the you that your father created inside his head. Your brows cease together as your head throbs. Before you could respond, you feel a gentle pat on your head that brings you out of your thoughts.
"You're doing great, Pres-chan. Take a break," he speaks softly as he strokes your head.
You close your eyes at his touch, and you relish in his gentleness. For someone with such calloused hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. His voice sounds distant, and it feels like he's speaking past you, like he's speaking to whoever he sees in place of you. You think maybe this is what you needed anyways, this is what you want to hear even if he’s speaking to himself through you.
"Take a nap. I'll wake you up in 20 minutes," he ruffles your hair, messing up your perfectly tied ponytail.
You glance at him briefly, and his stupid smile irritates you. Maybe your headache is getting the better of you, maybe you’re just too tired, but you find yourself nodding as your shoulders finally drop in defeat. "10 minutes."
He laughs as he agrees, and when you finally lay your head down and close your eyes, you briefly feel the warmth of his jersey before you drift off.
When you wake, you find that Oikawa is sitting beside you, humming a soft tune as he scrolls on his phone. It takes you a moment to blink the sleep out of your eyes, and then it occurs to you that he never woke you up. Your eyes flutter to the clock, and when you see that it's a little past 9, you panic. You shoot instantly up from your seat, and your sudden movement leaves you dizzy as the world around you rapidly spins in color. Oikawa stops mid-hum as looks up from his phone before he secures your arm to steady you.
"Holy shit, I thought I told you to wake me up in 10 minutes. The papers need to be filed so we can work on the report due next week. I need to finish the reports, so I can turn them in on Friday. The budgeting excel -."
"Pres-chan." He cuts you off as he takes his hand off your arm and pokes your forehead. "I filed the papers on your desk. They go into their respective color-coded drawers, right? And the reports are just club updates, yeah? I arranged them by club type, so you can just sort through them later. Also, I put the volleyball club on top, so get to us first, okay?" he teases lightly and sticks his tongue out mischievously. "I didn't mess with your budgeting excel because it's not my place to, but don't you think you can ask your treasurer to explain their budgeting and money management so far?"
You blink at him in silence as you take in all the information he told you. You glance over at your desk and see the piles of loose paper gone. In place are new stacks of reports clipped together with the assortment of pastel paper clips you brought last month on a whim. Your surprise overtakes you as you let out a shaky breath.
"Oh," you whisper, breath still quivering and voice slightly trembling. "Thank you."
You make a mental note to double-check everything again in the morning, just in case. That thought almost flies out of your head when you glance over, and the smile he flashes you is so bright you almost forget how to breathe.
When he accompanies you home that night, your steps feel a little lighter and your heart soars a little higher as you catch a glimpse of his profile, eyes fixated on the stars above as he tells you stories of constellations and aliens.
While you’re not an avid volleyball fan, witnessing their defeat to Karasuno in such a close match, watching the light in their eyes dim into a quiet somber crush on your heart. When the match was over and they asked for the keys to the gym, you gave it to them without hesitation although the gym is supposed to be closed for cleaning later today.
Throughout the hours, you find yourself unable to completely focus on the paperwork in front of you. Your eyes keep trailing to the empty key slot where the gym keys are supposed to be, and your ears are fixated on each tick of the clock. Fidgeting with your pen, you finally give in and let out an uneven sigh when the clock rings eight. After smoothing out your skirt and blazer and retying your neat ponytail, you make your way to the gym.
As always, you knock on the doors before coming in. Only silence greets you.
The gym is vacant, and the cheering crowds and rest of the volleyball team members have long gone home after their spontaneous practice. Volleyballs are still scattered everywhere, the net is still up, but none of that matters as your eyes focus on the lone figure lingering in this solemn, almost crushing, silence.
His eyes are downcast, but you can tell from the hitching movement of his chest and the pooling puddle in his lap that he hasn't stopped crying. There is so much you want to tell him, but no words come to you. You’re not even sure if you’re in a position to say anything, but when you see him sitting there defeated and crying silently, a split image of yourself instead of him appears for a moment. The tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve repeatedly tried to suppress opens.
"You don't have to be perfect, you know?" you tell him softly.
He doesn't look up and only clenches his fists.
You pat the creases out of your skirt as you squat down, hands gently touching his before clasping them firmly. The words burn in the back of your throat as your eyes tear because you know. You know this feeling, this absolutely crushing feeling when all you have is taken away and you’re just left with nothing. Maybe you’re projecting your failures onto him, maybe this is just what you wanted to hear, but you tell him all the same.
"You're so much more than just your losses," you whisper with gentle firmness, "This is not the end. Not for you. Not for your volleyball."
His calloused hands only grip yours tightly as his silent tears fall and roll off your skin.
"You are not your failures."
You barely detect the sound of him letting out a deep breath, but he squeezes your hands. It may not be enough, it may not be okay, but it’s a start.
As the two of you sit in silence, you can merely laugh at yourself for ever thinking Oikawa Tooru was anywhere close to perfect. He is incredibly fragile, human, and unlike a star that you thought you could never reach, he is here beside you. He sniffles every so often, and when every so often becomes more often than not, you laugh lightly and offer him a tissue.
He accepts it with a sniffle, and as he blows his nose, you could only crinkle your nose.
“Ew, you’re gross,” you lightly poke fun at him.
“I was going to say thank you, but I take it back now,” he gasps dramatically.
You roll your eyes as you offer him the rest of your tissues. “It’s fine. I don’t need your thanks. Just… feel better.”
“Thank you,” he whispers anyway as he props his head on yours.
You hear three knocks, two fast knocks, a pause as if it’s left for drastic effects, before the third knock, in a familiar rhythm. Instantly, the wooden doors of the student council room open, and brown hair and honey-colored eyes peek in.
“Wanna do something fun with me, Pres-chan?” Oikawa asks, eyes brilliant and smile equally mischievous.
"... Depends on what it is," you raise an eyebrow at him as you look up from finishing some preparations for university. You've substantially given up trying to advise him to wait before barging into the student council room.
He wiggles his eyebrows before he grins. “Let’s go to the rooftop!"
It takes you a moment to comprehend what he said because while it’s not that crazy, the rooftop is off-limits to students. Subsequently, it occurs to you that out of your three years here, you've under no circumstances done anything remotely rebellious. The adrenaline hits you, so you snatch the keys to the rooftop before heading out the door.
"Alright, let's go."
He freezes before his mouth drops and gasps dramatically. "Heh, Pres-chan, looks like you really aren't that much of a good girl after all."
You roll your eyes at him, and a soft smile finds a way to your face before you walk out. "Hurry up, or I'm leaving you behind."
"Wait for me!!" You hear the scampering footsteps, and you swear you can hear his pout.
This is the first time you’ve ever been on the rooftop, you think, as you finally unlock the door and step out into the sun. It’s a little past seven, and you think the sun is going to set soon as it slowly fades behind the Miyagi skylines in bursts of orange. You close your eyes as the wind blows, almost as if it’s greeting you. You can see why people skip all the time to be up here.
“Feels pretty good, huh?” Oikawa stands beside you as the wind tousles his hair and the sun kisses his skin. He looks radiant under the sunlight, and you merely hope he doesn’t hear the fluttering of your heart.
“Yeah,” you nod along, “I… I wish I came up here earlier.
Honey brown eyes so deep and warm, staring directly at you, and there is something that you’re terrified to name. You always thought love was something dramatic, once in a lifetime, and it just hits you like a train out of nowhere. With Oikawa Tooru, it feels more like learning to walk - steadily, one step after another, until he becomes a part of your natural routine.
You can see the longing and something akin to love in his eyes, but you know it's not love. You know when he loves, he loves with all his being. Right now, there is something, but it's not love because he sees not only you but also past you. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel, the future where he's standing on a volleyball court with his name on the back of a national team jersey. He sees the passion and the love he has for volleyball beyond you, and even when he's here in the moment, even when he likes you, he sees something greater.
Your heart clenches because you want it to be you, you want you, this to be enough. But you know he is meant for something so much greater. He is meant for the stage lights of an international court, living and thriving with so much passion and love for the sport he dedicates his life to. He is unmeant to be here, to be held back by something called love.
You try ignoring the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, try ignoring the way his eyes linger at your lips as if he wants to kiss you. You try ignoring your yearning heart when all you can hear in your head is him telling you he's going to Argentina.
“You’re going to do great in Argentina.” You swallow the lump in your throat and interlace your own fingers together to prevent yourself from reaching out and holding his hand.
He blinks, and slowly retracts his extended hand, and swallows the words he wants to tell you. “Oh, uhm,” he hesitates. “Geez, Pres-chan! Don’t make it sound like we’re never going to see each other again!” he pouts dramatically, voice creaking just ever so slightly and eyes lacking the playful glint in it. “We’ll see each other again.”
He sounds hesitant, almost as if he’s doubtful if he can uphold the words of a promise. He doesn’t deserve to be held back by a promise.
You let him go.
It’s funny because you don’t even think he is yours to let go, but you smile anyway as you catch his unfaltering eyes back on the sunset. He is the one who teaches you a little bit about being okay, the one who first opens the tightly sealed jar and lets a gale of fresh air into your world.
“Thank you,” you tell him softly. Your hand finds its way to him, fingertips ghosting over his hand almost as if you didn’t just reject his moments ago.
The wind blows softly, and the blooming cherry blossoms flutter as he blinks in confusion before he smiles crookedly too. In a world where you are braver, you would have voiced the three words lingering on your mind instead of the two that came out, and your lips would have been on his instead of settling for a ghost of a touch of hands. But in this world, this is all you can do, all you can intend for.
Instead, the two of you continue to stand in silence, sharing this one last moment where he can stand on both legs without leaning to his left to accommodate for his right knee, where you can laugh in a loose smile and ruffled hair without feeling the need to fix them. It’s satisfactory, you tell yourself, this is enough.
While he may not be your soulmate, while you have no soulmate mark, it hurts all the same. Your heart still breaks as the falling sunlight fades into the deep indigo skies, as he waves goodnight, as you watch him go with the world on his shoulders and wings on his back. The hollowness in your chest aches, and you wonder if this is what heartbreak feels like.
“Funny, huh? Out of all the people in the world, out of all the places in the world, I end up meeting you on an Argentinian beach, thousands of miles away from home,” you stifle your laughter softly.
The hot summer wind blows into your unbound hair, bringing grains of sand and the scent of the ocean. The shore calls you, and you find yourself wiggling your toes in the clear waters. As you look to the horizon, you find that the crystalline waters contrast vividly against the soft pinks and oranges of the fading sun. It’s so surreal, and it makes you momentarily forget that there are responsibilities, people waiting for you back at home.
The faint rustling and the loud splash of water wake you from your trance, and you find Oikawa Tooru running into the waters carefreely. His pants are roughly rolled up just barely above the water level. His eyes are tender and his smile is wide as he holds his hand out to you.
“Come on, Pres-chan,” he gestures his hand in front of you again. “The water feels really nice!”
You take a moment to breathe because he looks beautiful with his brown eyes twinkling mischievously and lips upturned jovially and carefreely against the fleeting sunset. You smile once more, lips upturn softly instead of the traditional 45 degrees, as the last strands of your hair frees from your hair tie.
You briefly remember being eighteen, standing on the rooftop of your high school. His hand is extended, but you were too afraid to take it, too afraid to become a burden. You blink once and think maybe this time, he should have a say in his own decisions instead of you selfishly making it for him. You take his hand, hesitantly and shyly, as you take your first steps into the water.
Time stills as your eyes meet his brown ones. He stares at you dumbfoundedly, and you are unsure if the pinks of his cheeks are from you or the sunset.
“You look happier,” he finally comments softly, “I’m glad.”
Now it’s your turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. Your hand covers a slight laugh that breaks from your lips. You take in his wind-tousled chestnut hair and eyes closed from his laughter, his muscular body that no longer tends to lean on his left side absentmindedly to protect his right knee, and you realize he is more genuine, more candid, more Oikawa Tooru than the one you’ve known since high school.
“You do too.”
”Wanna grab drinks after?” Oikawa asks nonchalantly as the two of you finally make your way out of the water and sit under the broad umbrella from the blazing sun. His long legs are stretched out as he leans back, hands propping him up.
Despite his relaxed posture and even voice, you see his fingers wiggling in the sand and the pinks peeking on his cheeks and the tip of his ears. It almost makes you laugh because you’re certain you can reckon on one hand how many times Oikawa Tooru seems so timid.
“I mean”- he continues, taking your silence as a declination, -“just as friends, to catch up, you know? How have you been? Oh! What about your cousin? Didn’t she -”
“Okay,” you laugh lightly. “I’d be happy to.”
“-Oh, now that I think about it, what did you end up doing- wait -” he pauses mid-sentence as he stares at you bewilderedly, ”-okay?”
“Yes,” you laugh again, much louder and without restraint. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats after you again.
“Yes, okay.” You nod.
The smile he gives you is so bright it outshines the sun.
"So, how are you?" he asks again once you're seated beside him, a beer in hand and dusk in view.
You offered a general answer earlier, and it started a train of small talk that never breaches past the surface. It reminds you of high school and leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
The beach in Argentina is always full of life, but it's quieter now. Maybe it's the fact that it's getting late or the fact that you're on your third beer already, all you can focus on is the man beside you.
Maybe you're more honest now too because he looks like he wants to ask more. (Like he asks “how are you?” when all his eyes are saying is “I love you.”)
"I threw my phone into the ocean and got in a screaming match with my dad," you tell him honestly.
You can feel his gaze on you as he lets out a soft hum to let you know he's listening. It used to unnerve you whenever he looks at you like that, whenever he makes you feel so transparent. Now, it makes you smile because he always makes you feel so seen.
"He told me to be all these things that I am not because he wanted me to have a good life. I know his intentions and know it makes him happy. But I was so fed up with just constantly not being enough for who he wanted me to be, so I told him I just wanted to be his daughter."
You don't realize your hands are shaking until you feel his hands on yours. He pulls the beer bottle out of your hands before he places them into his own and squeezes them.
"And what did he say?" he asks softly, recalling all the late nights and the mask you put on at school in the name of a shadow that always looms over you. He remembers the instant drop of your face whenever your father comes up, when the words duty and filial piety become a burden instead of pride on your shoulders.
"He just kinda stared at me and stopped talking. I think it didn't occur to him that this was a thought in my head. I cried a lot." You squeeze his hands back.
"Yeah, I'm glad you gave him a piece of your mind, though." His voice is gentle as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.
"He cut me fruit after, so I think we're okay," you laugh awkwardly as you flash him a smile. "I think I'm okay."
He smiles too when he notices your smile is a lot freer now, that the corners of your lips are no longer locked in place and forced in front of fake pleasantries. Maybe he's freer now too, he thinks as he looks at the brightly lit skies, as he continues his volleyball journey, feeling so fulfilled despite being thousands of miles away from home.
"I used to think I wasn't good enough," he starts honestly with a small laugh. "No matter how hard I work, I could never be enough compared to geniuses who just get it."
“I used to think you were so put together when I initially met you, like the universe's spotlight was meant for you,” you hum. “Until I realized you were the reason why the volleyball gym keys were never returned on time.”
He laughs light-heartedly. “Hey, I had an image to keep up, okay?”
You tuck in your knees and prop your head on top of them, eyes never leaving his, hand still in his. “I think I realized you were a lot more reachable, human even, when I saw you broke down after losing to Karasuno our third year.”
“Are you deriving comfort in my pain? How rude!” He pouts. “But I somewhat get it. I used to think you were super snobby with your fake smiles and your super tight ponytail. I used to think you were going to be balding early!”
“You were the one who habitually had a hoard of fangirls around you, and nobody could get anyplace in the hallways!” You retort with a fond smile.
Memories of high school seem so long ago, and as you recall each one, you see the light in his eyes waning and waxing with the tides. The feelings you try so hard to bury, the ones you try to let go of the day he set off to Argentina bubble through your chest and flow onto your lips.
"I think I was too scared to love you," you finally whisper as the moon rises and the waves kiss the shore.
He stares at you and blinks once, twice, before he breathes a soft, “Oh.”
You finally take your eyes off him, hand finally wiggling its way out of his to encase yourself as you bury your face in your knees. “I wanted to be enough. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t for my dad, wasn’t for myself, wasn’t for you.”
He leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair off your face. “You are always enough. For your dad, for yourself,” he pauses and smiles gently, “And you are more than enough for me.”
You peek at him through your lashes. The ocean waves drown out the sound of your heartbeat as he stares at you earnestly, eyes honest and lips so, so close.
“I didn’t want you to regret me,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “I didn’t want to be someone who holds you back from your dreams. I didn’t want to be just temporary until you find your soulmate.”
His eyes widen, but he persists steadily close. “I don’t think I could ever regret you. My dreams will always be the national court, but you being there, by my side, would be the best part of it.”
He takes a breath as he reaches for your hand, much like he did at the rooftop of your high school.
“I was born without a soulmate mark. Initially, I was so upset because I thought no one would love me unconditionally like a soulmate is supposed to. But honestly, fuck that. Fuck soulmates. Fuck some pre-destined person supposedly made for you because no one is. We are in control of our own fate, and we are in control of whom we choose to love. And I like you Pres-chan. I have since I was eighteen and dumb. I still like you now at twenty and still a little dumb. But no matter how old I am, how old I will be, it’s always you. I will always choose to love you.”
You breathe in sharply as you listen to his words, every sound and syllable clear as his eyes as he looks at you, only you. There is only truth in his words, and as your eyes wander from his to his hand and back to his eyes, the overwhelming amount of sincerity overwhelms you.
Oikawa Tooru has always been dedicated in all that he does, and the thought that he is offering you that very same dedicated heart of his becomes a consuming warmth in your chest. The heat of your fluttering heart radiates off your cheeks, and the feeling that has been blossoming in your heart blooms into an indescribable softness and affection.
Love has perpetually been something out of reach, something you witness in movies and read in books, something you witness in your friends and cousin. But love is here now, in the form of Oikawa Tooru with his hands stretched out for you to take, with his heart bare and exposed for you to have.
“I was born without a soulmate mark too. I used to hate it because it felt like it was another thing I was lacking in. I wasn’t even enough to have a soulmate,” you breathe out, eyes on the ocean that reflects on the moonlight. The last bits of the tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve kept finally flows out.
“But if soulmates do exist, I would like to think they are made. Not in the sense that they are made for each other, because fuck destiny, but in the sense that we wake up every morning and choose who fits us and how they fit. And whatever this is we have between us, we forged it,” you start firmly as you place your hand in his, eyes meeting his. The last bit of bitterness flows into the sea, and the only thing that remains at the bottom of this jar is hope.
“I like you too, Oikawa. I have since I was eighteen and smart. I still do at twenty and moderately smarter but still trying to figure life out. And I don’t know what the future holds or even what I’m doing to do from here on, but I want it to be you.”
“I want it to be you too. I can’t promise you the world or where our lives will lead from here onwards. What I can promise is I will choose you, from the moment I wake up until the moment I sleep, from now until the end of the ocean.”
A promise, his truth. While the unknown horrifies you, this is enough. You smile as you squeeze his hand. When he grins and squeezes your hand back, you think maybe love is irrevocably here to stay.
“What were you before you met me?” He takes one of your hands in his and uses his other in an attempt to tame your unconstrained hair against the wind. He pouts when he finds that your hair just blows wildly and gives up, but he smiles, nonetheless, when he hears your unrestrained laughter.
You shake your hair out of your face and turn to face him, hair blowing wildly and freely with the wind. You tear your eyes away from slow waves of the ocean, illuminated by the brilliant reds and oranges of the setting sun, and you find yourself more captivated by glowing brown eyes than you ever could by the dazzling colors of the horizon.
You stare briefly at him, looking into his eyes and seeing his relentless soul, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like they did the very first time, feeling absolutely starstruck. You hum softly as you turn back to the peaceful waves and remember the tight ponytails and painted smiles of your high school days. You remember the weight on your shoulders to become someone ideal and the heaviness on your heart to become a you that only lives to make your father proud.
“I think... I was drowning,” you answer almost inaudibly but honestly, both hands gripping his tightly as if you’re holding a lifeline.
He pauses for a moment before he squeezes your hands again. He whispers then, reluctantly and almost fearfully, “And what are you now?”
You turn to meet his eyes. You recall him at seventeen and feeling annoyed because he mirrored every bit of the pretense you put up in all the undesirable ways. But you see him now, twenty and free of the inferiority and limitations he places on himself, and you wonder if you also look older, wiser, happier because you are now the you you want to be.
You have always associated him with air because he is terrible and unpredictable, destructive and clear, focused and silent. But he is also comforting and calm, like an invisible force, who's consistently going and going, with unhindered sight. He is always persistently here and cannot be turned away, and before long, you find yourself not knowing what to do without it.
At the moment, you find the last bits of the riptides that pull you under the waters finally cease, and as you enjoy the scent of the salty ocean and hear the lull of the gentle waves, you think you can finally breathe freely and vivaciously.
Slowly, you take a hand to trace the outline of the miniature matching sun tattooed on his chest, where the soulmate mark is supposed to appear. You smile undoubtedly and wholeheartedly.
you’re what i need cause now i can breathe; you put the beat in my heart. somehow we fit together, and now we’re unbreakable.
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[𝘢/𝘯: 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩! 𝘫𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴, 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘤𝘭. 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬!! 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦!!]
𝗢𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝘅 𝗚.𝗡 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 - 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶 // 𝘢𝘰𝘵 // 𝘣𝘯𝘩𝘢 // 𝘫𝘫𝘬
Oikawa's heart screams. In love, in adoration, in admiration. It screams till the room's sprayed scarlet. A declaration of his love for you is painted on every wall, every sidewalk. With every step Oikawa takes, a seal of your love is left behind. Oikawa's heart screams for you.
It beats for you as well. You found him when he was at an all time low. The same wounds freshly reopened, before they had time to even heal. He had hope that year as well, rubbing salt into his wounds. Hopes of making it to nationals, maybe even winning, his team was strong. But evidently, not strong enough. Looking back on it now the optimism was laughable, but his worthless pride refuses to admit it or even acknowledge it. Because his optimism is what led him straight into your arms.
He tirelessly sought after you, days on end, hoping to be the cause of one of the beautiful smiles he’s ever seen. Only to be playfully ignored and rejected. But, in the end, it was you that came to him. It was you that sought him out, to comfort him, to be the cause of the most precious smile you had ever seen, though you hated to admit it.
Not a day went by where you didn't feel cherished and loved by Oikawa once you were finally his. Yes, you had bad days in which harsh words were exchanged and tears were split, voices raised in frustration, but the pair of you couldn't bring yourself to stay away from each other, like a moth to a flame you were drawn back into each other. With soft apologies and passionate kisses you would reaffirm your affection for one another, knowing you would be okay. You could both make this work and you would. There was never a doubt with Oikawa, and never will be.
Now you lay in each other’s arms, protected and shielded from the wretched world around you, encased in a cocoon of love. Your heart’s synchronised, beating as one. His arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in closer, his chest comfortably pressed against yours. And you lay on top of him, head buried in his neck, occasionally pressing small kisses to his throat. Oikawa felt as though he could finally breathe, finally relaxed in your arms, his mind free of everything, everything except you.
The concept of forever scares Oikawa, the idea of time going on, and on, and on, with no end in sight. The meaning of life is lost once forever comes into play. What would he be living for if he had forever?
But he could spend an eternity in your arms, with you, he thinks to himself. Ten times over. You gave his life meaning, taught him how to love, not just others, but himself as well. Oikawa lives and breathes for your entire existence. You found cracks in Oikawa’s heart and poured all your love and affection into them, making him whole, making him complete.
The concept of forever scares Oikawa, but a forever with you, would be a dream come true.
© 2021 @tooru-luvs — do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! do NOT steal my work or i will find your ip and home address and shit in your cereal! also its not that good, so why would you??
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minors dni, nsfw 18+. exhibitionism, voyeurism
to: @strawberriebunn congratulations on your milestone Cinnamon Bunn! I'm giving you my kisses here! mwah <3
There’s something incredibly enchanting about the way Tooru makes a mess of you. Something in the way your legs quiver as he forces them open, in the way he makes you scream on his fat cock.
Something that makes him want to share the sight with his neighbors.
Taking your hand, he eagerly leads you out onto his backyard porch. You can hear his neighbors, separated by a wooden fence, talking and laughing on their own porch.
It’s a bit shameful wearing only a simple sundress. Nipples poking through the thin fabric, your dripping cunt felt a bit more exposed, especially with the vibrator lodged comfortably in it. But, the thrill of what is to come outweighed any embarrassment you felt at that moment.
With his other hand, he gestures for you to sit on the steps.
“Are you ready?”
With a short nod, you agreed.
He kneels down, smirking at the poorly hidden anticipation on your face. Caressing your calf, he raises your leg slowly. With both hands, he carefully inches them forward and slides back down. It’s pleasant, nearly lulling you into a state of peace.
But when he reaches your thighs, he lingers. Lingers until you’re shivering. Lingers until your leg is trembling in his grasp. He nudges your legs open with his mouth, pressing kisses and nipping on your inner thighs.
You’re trying to hold back mewls, teeth biting into your lip.
He pulls back, letting you rub you thighs together.
He taps your legs twice, a signal to lift yourself slightly. You eagerly comply, and he rolls up your dress.
He removes a tiny remote from his back pocket. Pushing the switch, the vibrator abruptly deep in your cunt comes to life.
On instinct, your legs try to close shut, but Tooru’s sudden slap to your sensitive thighs prevents you from doing so.
You huff. He smirks.
He pries your legs open. Licking his lips, he holds them stretched as his tongue draws closer to your clit. Unlike the harsh vibrations deep within your clenching hole, his first lap is tentative as if he’s savoring your delightful taste for the first time. The next few are purposeful, flicking at your clit until it’s throbbing and drenching it in his saliva. The last ones are torture. Slow and deliberate, their sole purpose is to prolong the tension building up in your core.
All the while, the vibrator is pulsating. It’s muffled drone still audible through your folds.
Your whimpers quickly become strangled cries, legs kicking in the air and hands clutching his hair fast.
The sole sound coming from his neighbors is silence. Right now though, you cannot be bothered to notice.
On the verge of climax, Tooru snatches it away from you. His tongue withdraws from your clit, and he switches the vibrator off.
Panting, you glare at him. He responds by massaging your trembling thighs with another smirk.
He waits for your breathing to even before he resumes.
His long, slender fingers spreads your tight walls, eliciting another round of whines from your mouth. Smirk growing wider, he fishes around for the vibrator. He intentionally misses a couple of times, grazing that soft, sensitive spot each time. With each brush of his rough fingertips, stars explode in your vision.
He finally drags it out, making sure he skims that soft spot again. Groaning, you can only lay your head against his shoulder.
He gives you a brief period to rest as his hand reaches for his pants. Undoing the front, he pulls out his cock, half-hard and dripping.
“Now, your turn.”
Without a word, you wrap a hand around his cock. You spread his pre-cum on his tip and his shaft carefully. You tug slowly, gripping gently. Impatient, he envelops his hand around yours and picks up the pace.
Just two words from him, and you’re already leaning, propping yourself up by your elbows on a step.
Taking his dick in his hand, he traces your sopping slit, slapping it a couple of times. He lines himself up and pushes.
The first push through your tight ring of muscles causes soft whimpers. On the second, your pussy is clamping firmly around his head. With a low groan, he pushes in until his head just about kisses your cervix, almost battling your clenching walls for dominance.
Your body arches off the steps. The back of your head nearly striking the edge of one, but he was quick to cradle it before you did. Yet, he could do nothing about the shriek that all but rips your throat apart.
The next few moments are brutal after he bottoms out. Pelvis slamming into you, his heavy balls slap against your ass. Like he taught you to, you squeezed him as he pulls out and released as he plunges back in. Through his haze of lust, he turns the vibrator on and grinds it on your clit. The fierce thrusting leaves you screeching.
The tension within your body finally snaps. He soon follows your lead as your walls clench viciously around him, milking him for all his worth.
Your legs fly into the air, spasming out of control. Tears that were pooling in your eyes are now flowing down your cheeks. Throat hoarse from screaming, you can only whimper helplessly.
A flash catches your attention from the side of your eye. Through your muddled eyes, you can vaguely see the heads of your neighbors peeking above the fence. Eyes blown-out, their hands tremble as they hold their phones up.
You look back at Tooru.
“See? I was right.”
network: @hqintheclub || @paccheris-place
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