Oikawa X Reader Angst - Blog Posts

Talking to the Moon (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After breaking up to go their separate ways after high school, YN and Oikawa struggle to accept the fact that neither is willing to give up their career paths for the other. Instead, they both confide in the moon, wishing that it was their other half. (Based on “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars.)

A/N: I won’t take up too much space talking about the obvious (I straight up dipped for like a month, oopsies). Just know I missed writing and finally got the push I’ve been waiting for to return for a little (more like finally had no homework). Enjoy!

Word count: 2464

        The moon, with its deep craters and pale shine, mesmerized him each night, but not for its beauty. For each night, he watched it with intensity, almost glaring at the crescent hanging in the sky with great envy.

        It was never alone. There were always stars or planes or blinking lights on top of tall mountains keeping it company as it made its slow, purposeful journey toward the horizon. Across hazy clouds and black skies, it never strayed from its path, not once. 

        No matter how much he wished it would. 

        “YN.” Oikawa fiddled with his thumbs before continuing. “Are you… are you there?”

        Maybe he was crazy. His neighbors certainly thought so. On the balcony of his beachside condo, he leaned his elbows on a railing that never covered with dust and turned his face to the dark of the night. 

        “I miss you.” 

        And so, as he spoke to the moon of all his troubles, he imagined how she would respond. He told of his game earlier in the day, how his serving had improved and how they had won with just two points to spare. How his teammates had commented on his lingual improvements and celebrated with a drink. But as time went on, he found his shoulders slumping lower and lower until his head was almost hanging, limp. 

        The wind had bitten his nose and cheeks long ago and wisped his hair into a frenzy, and yet he could never find the will to go inside. Still, the moon lit up his form, encouraging his words further. 

        “I still love you.” His voice, barely above a whisper. Oikawa had reached that point that he seemed to reach every night, speaking of his regrets, of his goodbyes, of his sorrows. 

        “I’m sorry we had to end that way.”

        Thousands of miles away and twelve hours later, YN looked up at her own moon, her own stars. Yet, for her, they seemed to move too fast, pass by too quickly. She had never brought herself to open her mouth and let out how she felt, but with the soft rays peeking through her dorm window and painting her desk and papers gray, she’d certainly let her mind wander one too many times.

        Was the pain worth it? Did she do the right thing? Wasn’t this what she wanted?

        Love lay eighteen thousand miles away, right where she’d left it. Purposefully. But if she had done so on purpose, why did it feel like the world had caused her this pain? 

        Her high school sweetheart, her cocky brunette, her best friend, and what must be the love of her life because if he was anything less, she wouldn’t let it ruin her future like this. In college, she had grades to keep up and classes to focus in because, as she’d told him, this was what she wanted. And she wouldn’t stop it for anyone. 

        That night, in her house, Oikawa had told her he’d been recruited to another country. His skills were unmatched and they wanted him on their team. With the promise of beautiful beaches and a generous paycheck, Oikawa said he couldn’t say no. But YN made no such promises. 

        “You know I can’t go with you.” I couldn’t, I really couldn’t. 

        “What about online?” It wouldn’t have been the same.

        “I want the experience, Tooru, not just the classes.” The experiences aren’t enough anymore, though. 

        “So what does that mean, YN?” I didn’t know.

        “Come on, Tooru. We both… we both know what it means.”

        She’d bawled her eyes out, tears flowing without end the minute he shut her front door. A deep pain struck her chest each time she thought about his back turning without a goodbye. Her parents offered sympathetic smiles and well-meaning hugs, rubbing her back and whispering that everything was going to be okay until she cried herself to sleep.

        That was months ago. Seven, to be exact. 

        But as Oikawa and YN both peered out at their moons, confessing their pain and drowning in their sorrows, they couldn’t help but feel like the loss had happened yesterday. 

                                ~~~

        Suitcases sat on the floor, filling the room and emptying it all the same. On his bare mattress, Oikawa sat with his teeth buried into his bottom lip, leaning back on his hands as tears trailed down his cheeks.

        Just across from him hung the collage of photographs YN had helped him pin against the wall. A photograph of them together as young kids where Oikawa pulled YN’s hair and laughed while she cried. Another of them on prom night, not smiling at the camera but instead at each other, lovestruck. Another, YN wrapped up in Oikawa’s arms as he hoisted her up high grinning and rubbing his nose into her neck as she squealed. 

        Two weeks ago, he never would have thought of throwing them away, but now it was all he wished to do. After all, by this fall he would be moved out of Japan and into Argentina, in an apartment he’d already arranged with the team manager. 

        Being recruited right out of high school. It was a blessing, it was lucky, it was everything the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club called it and more. Now, Oikawa felt more cursed than blessed. 

        The one person he wanted smiles from gave him tears. When he wanted congratulations, he got heartbreak. Oikawa wanted her to come with him--he could make room in his new house. He would always make room, and more. 

        At the very least, he wanted to hear her beg for him not to. Not to leave, not to break her heart, not to follow his dreams. In the future, he knows he would’ve truly considered it if she had, but YN was not selfish like that. Oikawa’s YN would never try to take him away from this once in a lifetime opportunity. 

        YN loved him too much to hold him back with her, and that was the one thing he always resented about her.

                                ~~~

        Dark circles and puffy bags hung under YN’s eyes. This was what she wanted.

        Clouds stormed overhead, whispering deadlines and test days and hundred point assignments. This was what she asked for. 

        This was how she got the job she wanted, the job she picked out when she was approximately nine. This was how she expanded her bubble, discovered a world she thought had at least a little more sunshine and rainbows. 

        But all she felt was alone. Her friends were spread across the country, some still in her hometown and some littered here and there, but none had come with her to the school she’d chosen. She had many classmates, all acquaintances and nothing more. 

        This wasn’t what she’d expected, and she soon came to realize this wasn’t what she wanted. Her future career that she’d pretended was more important than anything now felt like her worst enemy. 

        But what hurt the most was that she’d left behind the love of her life to pursue it. 

        Rain, a weather she once loved, pounded outside her window with occasional strikes of lightning. Every flash lit up the room, the photos hung on the wall above her bed glowing each time. Behind the clouds she knew sat the moon, but it was invisible to her at this moment. 

        Still, her thoughts ran rampant. Opening her laptop, she signed in past a picture of Oikawa and her she’d never gotten around to changing and clicked on the search bar.

        23 hours and 20 minutes. Tickets upwards of $3,000. 

        A phone call wouldn’t do--she wanted to see him. Talk to him. Not allow him to ignore her like she was so dearly afraid he would. 

        She didn’t have the money or time now, but when she did….

        YN bookmarked the page for later.

                                ~~~

        For the first time in too long, the moon was full. And, as usual, Oikawa slid open his balcony door, leaving it cracked just a bit so he could slip back inside when he got too cold. Then he leaned his elbows against the wood railing, folding his hands and turning his face to the sky. 

        “YN, I don’t know if you remember, but it’s our anniversary today. Not when we started dating, no. It was the first time I ever got the guts to flirt with you. You know, when I shoved you on the playground and ran away for the first time.” His lips perked at the memory. 

        “God,” he snickered, “that was embarrassing. But I think we can both admit my flirting improved a lot.” 

        Running a hand through his hair, Oikawa sighed and gripped the railing just a bit tighter. Then he pursed his lips and swallowed. “I know I sound crazy, but I really do hope you do the same thing I’m doing right now. Even if you look insane doing it.”

        A knock sounded on his door just as Oikawa prepared to lean himself further on the rail, making him flinch. 

        Whipping his phone out of his pocket, he glared at the time. 12:57 am. 

        Who the hell…?

        More knocks urged him to return inside his home and jog over to the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he gritted out, reaching the door and turning the knob. “Damn, you’re gonna wake up my whole-”

        The sight that met his eyes caused him to choke on his last words. 

        “YN.” 

        YN in a sweatshirt he’d given up searching for months ago. YN with backpack straps resting on her shoulders and a deer-in-headlights look on her face. 

        Neither spoke for what felt like hours, but was really a whole five minutes, just taking each other in. Heart pounding, Oikawa locked his eyes on her own, first taking in their usual, comforting shades of color he’d dreamed about too many times, then landing them on the bags underneath. He dragged his gaze down to her lips, parted, pink, and glistening from her tongue peeking out to lick them nervously. Down her neck (thankfully unmarked), to her chest where one of his very first volleyball tournaments’ titles greeted him, to her black pants, to her scuffed shoes. Overall unscathed, but that, to be honest, wasn’t truly what he was concerned about. 

        She’s here. She’s really here. 

        “Tooru, I-”

        When YN finally spoke, finally uttered his name in that beautiful way she did for the first time in too long, Oikawa’s gaze snapped to hers so suddenly she had to stop and take a breath. “I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here and why I look like crap and how I figured out where you lived and how I got here and why-”

        “YN.” Oikawa cut her off but never let her finish as he grasped her by both shoulders and yanked her into his apartment, crushing her against his chest as he kicked the door shut. 

        Warm and soft and plush like he remembered. His hands reached around and pressed flat into her back before balling up the cotton sweatshirt in his fists. Though Oikawa himself couldn’t breathe and he was certain YN couldn’t either, he couldn’t help but want her closer and closer to him. Though she was in his arms, she still felt too far away. 

        He dropped his head to her shoulder and turned his face into her neck, stray hairs tickling his nose as he nuzzled back and forth into her bare skin. 

        “Tooru,” she whispered gently, with a smile he could hear in her voice. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

        “No,” he shook his head, hating that the movement caused her hands to stop brushing through the strands. “I’m not. Not right now.” He pressed a kiss to her skin before whispering, “I’m just glad you are here.”

        “But-”

        “No buts.” He pulled his face away from her neck to press his forehead against hers. Instantly, their breaths mingled just as they always had. If either of them moved even an inch closer, their lips would brush and that would be all it took. 

        “You need to know,” YN pulled away just a bit but, swiftly, Oikawa tugged her flush against him once more, each part of their bodies brushing like they always had, like they’d never stopped. The thundering of his heart almost drowned out her words--almost.

        She smiled, and her eyes twinkled like they always did when she looked at him, like they hadn’t done in a while. And her gaze softened and her body relaxed as she gave in to the truth of her own words. 

        “I can’t be happy without you, Tooru. I just can’t. Because,” she shook her head with a growing smile as her hands fell to his nape, “I don’t want my future to be one without you. You’re what I want, Tooru. All that I want.”

        And they brushed and Oikawa sunk into the beating of his own heart as her body and soul fell against him, drawing him in with the warmth and pleasure he knew he would never find without YN by his side. 

        When their lungs finally pleaded too much for air, Oikawa and YN surfaced with grins and happy tears, love filling the room in a wonderful way. 

        Leading her backwards, one hand cradling her head and the other clutching her hip, Oikawa peppered kisses across all of the bare skin he could find and then more when he searched farther. When her knees finally buckled against his bed and they both collapsed among the sheets, Oikawa let himself speak, sparingly. 

        “God, I missed you, YN.” His lips brushed along her chin reverently. “So, so much. I can’t stand not having you with me.”

        “Me too,” she sighs.

        “How?” He stops suddenly.

        “What?”

        He draws the hand behind her neck to her cheek, breathing heavily as he traces his thumb along her bottom lip. His eyes can’t seem to stop moving, heatedly taking in every inch of her. “How did you find out where I was?”

        This makes her release a breathy laugh before she brushes her nose against his. 

        “I heard you talking to the moon.”

Across the Hall (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?

A/N: (It’s not five am! Yay me!) This is an au prompt called “You live across the hall and you hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one-night stands” I got from this list. My god, I wanted this to be so much better than it actually was. If even a single person likes this, I will be eternally grateful. I sincerely hope you guys like this one! 

Word count: 5678

        Your apartment complex was filled with… a different kind of people. The tenants below you, one ginger and one blunet, bickered like no other. Meanwhile, the renters above you, one with a buzzcut and one with black hair and a bleached tuft, constantly watched and fawned over Next Top Model. It was all weird, but the most curious one of all was the man who lived across from you. 

        He was a womanizer with no sense of personal space, and constantly holed up in your apartment to wait out his one-night stands. Over the months, you two became friends, and while you repeatedly offered to let him hide and rest in your spare bedroom, he never seemed to appreciate the offer. Instead, he had a tenacious habit of crawling into your bed space and wrapping his arms around you with the claim that he couldn’t sleep without cuddling something. No matter how many pillows you chucked at him, you seemed to be his most favorite teddy bear.

        Tonight was no different, and your heart fluttered when he pulled you tighter into his chest. He had woken you up instantly, and he was lucky that you were too tired to be pissed off by the act. 

        “Oikawa,” you mumble lazily, rubbing the tiredness away from your eyes, “you know I only gave you that key for emergencies, right?”

        “But this is an emergency, YN. The girls never leave unless I’m not there when they wake up.”

        “Then maybe you should stop hooking up with random women.”

        “I don’t see the issue.”

        “Mhm,” you hum, rolling over in his embrace and yawning in his face. He gags at the smell and you smirk. “You know there’s a perfectly good couch for you to sleep on, right?”

        “It’s extremely uncomfortable, I can’t stand that thing. I don’t know why you bought it.”

        “Okay, then what about my spare room?” 

        “I’ve slept in there too! And trust me, nothing is more comfortable than this bed right-” Oikawa’s ranting is cut off by a frantic knock on your door. With a sigh, you nod your head towards the hall of your apartment and raise a brow. 

        “Is that tonight’s expedition?” He gives you a bashful smile.

        “Possibly.” Rolling your eyes, you scramble out of your bed and trudge out of your room. The banging is about to rip your door right off its hinges. As it shivers from the force, Oikawa trails timidly behind you and peeks over your shoulder at the sight. 

        “What, did you bang a pro-wrestler or something?” You’re judging him so hard right now. 

        “Ugh, YN. So unfeminine. I don’t ‘bang,’ I make love.” 

        “To a rhino?” You watch with wide eyes as your front door trembles before approaching it slowly. 

        “Maybe.” Oikawa opts to cower behind the island in your kitchen, which is adjacent to the entrance of your apartment and in a perfect position for him to not be spotted. 

        “Wonderful,” you mutter, hesitantly placing a hand on the knob and opening the barricade to the beast. “Can I help you?” you ask, plastering on a fake smile.

        Your neighbor’s one-night stand looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. With wavy blonde hair and long, tan legs, she seemed like the type to squash men under her designer stilettos and not bat an eye. Exactly his type.

        “Yes, I’m looking for my… boyfriend Tooru,” she glances inside your apartment suspiciously, getting a little too close for comfort. “Have you seen him?”

        “Umm, nope. Haven’t seen him.” You boredly blink at her and keep a hand on the door just in case she tries to barge inside. 

        “Well, if you do, could you tell him Sakura is looking for him?” She flashes you a dazzling smile that almost burns your irises.

        “Sure.”

        “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Waving goodbye, she disappears inside the apartment across from yours, presumably to relocate her clothes from the night before. 

        “Not likely,” you mumble gruffly, slamming the door. You step into your kitchen only to find Oikawa casually eating a bowl of cereal on a stool at your counter. He shoots you an incredulous look.

        “She didn’t see me, right?!”

        “Oh no, of course not.” You snatch the breakfast away and munch on a bite of Cheerios. “Your girlfriend didn’t notice you stealing my food out in the open like a buttnugget.”

        “I am not a ‘buttnugget’! And I’d prefer you not speak with your mouth full.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grimaces at the bits of chewed food still visible. “Nasty. Anyways, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

        “I guess you’re right,” you shrug, plopping onto a stool next to his, “she’s more like the love of your life.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and he scoffs while pushing your shoulder playfully. 

        “Not in a million years.” He rises from his seat and smoothly presses his ear to the door before checking the peephole. “Coast is clear. You should probably go back to bed, YN. Get some more of that beauty rest you so desperately need.”

        “Bite me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cereal. 

        “I just might.” With a wink, he disappears out into the hall and back into his own home. The feeling of disappointment when he left wasn’t unknown to you, but you didn’t want to mull over it right now. Instead, you purse your lips and stand to wash the now-empty bowl, catching a glimpse of your clock on the way. 

        “Three a.m! What the fuck?!” Now that you know, the darkness outside your windows makes a lot more sense. Fortunately, it’s a Saturday, and it’s also not the first time Oikawa has required your help in fending off his nighttime companions. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t ream his ass about it every time you’re a little more conscious and awake. 

        “Goddamnit Oikawa.”

                                ***

It happens again, and again, and again. And every time it does, your feelings for him grow just a bit more, weirdly enough. On those early mornings that you wake up to him sliding into your bed and winding himself around you, you can’t help but wish it was for an entirely different reason. Sadly, reality was that he was just trying to escape his nightly mistakes. 

        Some days, you rouse to the smell of bacon wafting into the room. Others, he slips in and out before you even stir, leaving only a couple pancakes and a thank you note in his wake. 

        It’s been more than a year of this. A year of your apartment being used as a hideout, and of you being used as snuggly aftercare. Finally, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You made a plan to confess at Christmas while you exchange gifts. 

        “Oh wow!” You hold up the hand-written slip of paper with an amused smile. It had been packaged in several wrapped cardboard boxes, and you had spent twenty minutes removing and ripping open one after the other while Oikawa busted a gut. “A limited time coupon for one free booty call!” You shake your head with a small chortle while he snickers at the gift. 

        “I even laminated it.”

        “Yes, yes you did,” you snort, flapping the “coupon” in the air. Holiday music plays softly in the background and you're both wrapped in blankets. A televised campfire crackles on the screen behind Oikawa, and the only thing brightening up your living room is the medium-sized, ornamented tree near the two of you, tinging the air with the scent of spruce and cinnamon. 

        “All right, I suppose I’ll save this for later.” You slip his gift under your thigh and hand him your own, in a red and green bag with tissue paper sticking out the top. “Now open mine!” 

        He smiles and digs his hand inside, crinkling around while he guesses, “Is it… a blanket?”

        “Nope.”

        “Is it… a t-shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’?”

        “No, you jerk!” You laugh and smack his knee. “Just open it!”

        “If it’s worse than my gift, you totally owe me.” 

        “That’s literally not possible.” He gasps dramatically at you and finally pulls out the clothing. It’s a sweatshirt you had made especially for him. On the front was the logo for Boys’ Volleyball Nationals, and his eyes gleam in delight. Then he flips it around and reads the back. 

        “‘Number One Spectator’?!” He gawks at you in offense and you can’t hold back your giggles. While you crack up, he repeatedly glances between you and the sweatshirt with a pout. 

        “You totally owe me for this, YN!” 

        “I can’t! Oh, this is too good!” you guffaw, wiping tears away from your eyes. Suddenly, Oikawa tackles you to the floor, both hands beginning to attack your sides in a flurry of tickles. 

        “Oh shit!” you screech, twisting back and forth to try and escape. Your attempts are futile. 

        “Say you’re sorry!” One of his hands capture both of your wrists and hold them above your head so you couldn’t fight him. 

        “Never!” Your flabs ache while you wheeze out the occasional laugh. 

        “You’re so mean, YN!” He scolds with a wagging finger before instantly assaulting your exposed sides once more. “Just say your sorry!”

        “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cry out with a giggle, gulping in large amounts of air when he finally stops. 

        “You’re forgiven,” he nods with a lopsided grin, still holding your hands hostage. A long moment passes as you relax and catch your breath, his gaze never leaving your flushed face, but when you can finally think properly again, you realize the compromising position you both are in. 

        He’s straddling your hips, one pressed against each side while his face leers over your own. Never before have you noticed just how dark his brown eyes are, and you can’t help but spot the occasional gold fleck while you lose yourself in them. With a gulp, you rub your thighs together and lick your lips. The action instantly grabs his attention, and Oikawa tightens his grip on your wrists before slowly lowering himself closer to you. A small part of you wants to wait, wants to let your relationship grow stronger, but the rest of you yearns to live in the moment and enjoy it while you have the chance. You pick your side, and clasp your eyes shut to brace yourself. Then it happens.

        There’s no explosions or fireworks like the books, but every single one of your nerves twinge with sparks. His lips are soft as they gently caress your own, taking their time to memorize the feeling. His brunet locks brush against your forehead and he carefully releases his hold on you, trailing his hands down to cup your cheeks while his tongue begs for entrance. Losing yourself in the moment, you allow it access, teasing and battling him for dominance with your own while you tenderly dig your fingers into his hair, combing and tugging on the strands as the kiss grows more heated. You separate for just a split second and Oikawa doesn’t stray far. In an instant, he’s biting and sucking on the smooth skin along your chin, using one arm to support himself over you while the other angles your head perfectly for his lips. Pain mingles with pleasure as his teeth graze and nip your delicate flesh. 

        “Tooru,” you whimper, and he grunts deeply in response. You yank on his tangled tufts harder, mewling his name repeatedly while he moves lower to leave love bites up and down your neck. He pecks the bruises soothingly and groans at the feeling of your hands pulling harshly in reaction to the sting. 

        “What do you want, YN?” He coos, words whispered against your skin. The sensation leaves you writhing beneath him. 

        “You.” 

                                ***

        That night, the coupon was left forgotten on the floor, but its offer had been used.

        The next day, you picked it up with a sniffle and dumped it into the trash while you gathered your clothes from around the living room. Like every other girl he had been with, he left during the middle of the night. 

        Unlike the mornings where you were shaken awake by him holding you close, you were all alone while viewing the sunrise through your blinds this time. 

        With puffy cheeks, you made yourself some instant coffee and downed it, ignoring the burn and the fresh numbness of your tongue now. You breathe out shakily and set the empty mug in the sink before preparing to take a shower. Every one of your movements was passively lifeless. Each footstep dragged against the floor, and every heartbeat in your chest pained you. 

        Under the scalding water, you scrubbed away the memory as best as you could, leaving your skin raw and aching, but you could still feel a semblance of his touch.

        In the mirror, purple blemishes littered every inch of your body from your chin to your calves. The sight of them reminded you of what exactly had scared him off. 

        His head was buried in the back of your neck as he nibbled on the skin there. You sighed happily, reveling in the afterglow of your love-making while relaxing further into the bed. Ever so slowly, you trail a hand down to your hips and interlock your fingers with his own, leading him to peck your nape gently. 

        “I love you,” you confess quietly. It was the heat of the moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. His body tenses behind you and his hand squeezes yours tightly for just a second. 

        “Oh.” The word, if that’s what it was, doesn’t sink in, and you fall asleep with a small smile on your face, pressing your back against his chest comfortingly. 

        At the time, you didn’t know. You had finally been with the man you loved, and he didn’t return your feelings. You wanted to be angry, enraged, or vengeful, but you were just sad. Ashamed of yourself and what you had done the night before. 

        In the past, you thought you meant more to Oikawa than his one night stands. You had seen the fake smiles he put up around them, and they never compared to the authentic grins he gave you. He joked with you, opened up to you, spent time with you and always seemed to want you around. Oh, how wrong you were to believe he would feel the same. 

                                ***

        Your employers weren't exactly okay with the fact that you had skipped about a month of work to wallow in self-pity, so they fired you. This unfortunate fact led you to search for a roommate, someone who could help you pay the rent while you job-hunted. You got an offer, and today he was moving in. 

        “YN?!” A familiar voice echoed from your apartment’s hallway, followed by a knocking on wood. “YN?!”

        “Oikawa?” You hesitantly make eye contact with him while hauling your groceries up the stairs. He’s in front of your door surrounded by cardboard boxes, and his face looks flushed with distress. 

        “YN, are you moving out?!” It’s the first time he’s talked to you since he left, and you want to beat the crap out of him with the hope that it would quell the pain. It won’t work, you know that, but you figure it’d be worth a shot.

        “No,” you clench your jaw and avoid his panicked gaze, “I got a new roommate.” 

        “Oh.” The look on his face falls, but so does every other emotion he had been displaying. Crossing his arms, he nods in understanding while observing the boxes of personal belongings around him. “That makes sense.”

        “Yeah, so uh… I guess I don’t really have to tell you this, but you can’t really hide out in my spare room anymore,” you shift on your feet, “You know, if you wanted to.”

        “Oh,” he repeats, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Okay.” 

        Awkward silence falls in the hallway, and you gulp while shifting awkwardly on the final stair to your apartment level. 

        “S-so,” he stutters before clearing his throat, “who’s your roommate?” 

        “Oh, his name is-” With perfect timing, your new roomie whips open the door to your home and grabs another cardboard box, completely dismissing the existence of the brunet across from him. 

        “Ushiwaka?!”

                                ***

        Your new roommate wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun. And for some reason, whenever he was caught in the hall with Oikawa, the latter would verbally attack him like a rat on a Cheeto. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a distant memory of your neighbor complaining about a man like Ushijima. You had both been on your couch, drinking wine and just talking about life when he suddenly grew angry at the memory of a man who “pissed him off like no other.” 

        In a way, you understood why; they were complete opposites. One was smug and social, while the other was more laid-back and reserved. Fate must have been on your side. Of course your new roommate would be the mortal enemy of the man who had broken your heart. Things were looking up, and it felt good to see Oikawa jealous, no matter how petty it sounded. You were heart-broken. Screw playing nice.

        “Hey YN?” Ushijima’s deep voice boomed from within his bedroom. The sudden holler made you jump from where you had been reclining on your couch, binging a new Netflix series. 

        “Yeah?” 

        “Can you take out the trash today? I have to get to practice.”

        “Sure, I got it.” After hopping off your sofa with a deep sigh, you plugged your nose with one hand and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen with the other, kicking your way outside and into the hall. 

        “I’ll see you later snookums!” A feminine tone chimed from behind you. 

        “Heh, wonderful.” Oikawa. He must have a new lady friend. “Can’t wait, okay byeee!” His words were desperate and rushed as you pivoted to see him ushering a girl with her heels in her hands down the stairs. Wasn’t that… oh what’s her name… Sakura! When she disappears from his sight, he face palms and groans loudly. 

        “Still having trouble kicking ‘em to the curb?” you snort, rolling your eyes. While you throw your trash down the chute in the hall, Oikawa sighs. 

        “Umm sort of, actually. I just… I don’t know.” He sounds confused and broken. For some odd reason, you almost want to comfort him. “YN.” A hand drops on your shoulder and urges you to turn around. You do, and regrettably so. 

        His body language doesn’t show it, but deep in his eyes, there’s an emotion you desired from him weeks ago. No. “Things aren’t the same anymore. And I think I’ve figured out why.”

        “No.”

        “YN, please just let me explain.”

        “No, Tooru!” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t get to do that!” Your heart is racing in an instant and his nostrils flare. 

        “YN, I love you!”

        “I don’t care!” 

        A painfully long silence follows after your shout. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear from him echo in your head. He loves me. He loves me. Yes, but it didn’t matter. What he’s done… it was unforgivable. Leaving you like every other woman he’s been with. You thought you two were friends, that he wouldn’t treat you like that. But he did, and no matter how he felt now, he had to feel your pain. 

        “You… don’t care?” His lower lip trembles and his voice cracks. You quirk your mouth nervously and shake your head. 

        “Oikawa,” you mutter, “if you really loved me, why did you treat me like the rest?” 

        He stares at you for a while, frozen in shock. The hall grows ten times colder and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe. You had to get out of there. 

        Spinning on your heel, you hurry back into your apartment, closing and locking the door just as you felt his fingertips reach and brush your elbow. 

        “YN! Wait!” 

        “YN? Are you okay?” Ushijima towers over your form, which had slumped to the ground against the wall. Tears prick your eyes, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you that question. He meant it too, there was a concern in his gaze you yearned for. 

        “No,” you croak out, using the door to help you stand with wobbling knees. The wood shivers beneath your hand from the pressure of Oikawa’s knocks. “No, I’m not.”

        Desperately, your neighbor's voice still pleads outside, and Ushijima nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” It’s the most words he’s said to you in a day, and they pang your heart. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, trudging away from the door and collapsing back onto your couch. 

        “Of course.” 

        The door opens behind you, and the lock clicks after it whooshes shut. You hug your knees into your chest and let the tears fall. 

        He loves me.

        “YN please!”

        He loves me.

        “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Please respect her wishes.”

        He loves me.

        “Oh, shut up you big oaf. I’m not gonna let you keep her from me! I won’t let you stop me again!”

        He loves me. 

        You breathe out a shaky sigh as the voices finally quiet. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you fall into a dreamless sleep on the couch, stained cheeks and all. 

                                ***

        Another week passes. Ushijima has been talking you through the pain, but he’s also made you see reason. 

        “YN, he can be a pain, but I don’t think you should give up like this.” Was that really what happened? Did you give up? 

        “Doesn’t he deserve it?” 

        “Maybe, but I think he might be a person like me. I need time to sort my feelings out about things. Maybe he did too.” 

        His words shock you to the core. In all the time you’ve been thinking about your own feelings over what happened, Oikawa might’ve only started to understand his own. Okay, you got that. But then why did he sleep with more women afterwards?

        “You might be right, but I still need time.”

        “Okay.”

        In a million years, you never thought a stoic man like Ushijima would become the one to help you understand other people’s minds. He himself seemed aloof, especially when you tried to thank him. “For what?” he would say, “I’m just proposing a theory.” The man didn’t have a single touchy-feely bone in his body, and you began to respect that. It didn’t mean you would confront Oikawa yet, but at least you were getting somewhere. 

        While you stew over what Ushijima had told you, you hear a racket from in the hall. Ushijima is at practice, so you have to leave the apartment for the first time since last Thursday. 

        “Hey Shittykawa! Open up!” 

        There’s a beefy man furiously smacking Oikawa’s door that intimidates the shit out of you. However, you’re obviously not his target, so you lightly set the baseball bat down that you had grabbed for self-defense. 

        “C’mon Loserkawa! Tell me what’s going on!”

        “Umm,” you hesitantly pipe up. “Is everything okay?” While even though it involved your neighbor… you think, you still wondered if something bad was going on. Did something happen to Oikawa? Guilt struck your heart at the thought. Oh God, what if you never got to see him again?

        “Yeah, I guess,” Beefcake replies gravely and gestures a thumb at your neighbor’s door. “My friend just hasn’t left his house in a while. Sorry if I disturbed you.” 

        “It’s okay.” You figure the muscle man has it handled and plan to return to your daily activities of job-searching and wallowing in misery, but he grabs your shoulder suddenly, causing you to flinch. 

        “Wait!” He looks over his shoulder at Oikawa’s door, then back to you and your apartment. A deduction has been formed. “Are you YN?” Uh oh.

        “Umm, yeah? Who’s asking?”

        “Well son of a bitch,” he grumbles with a snarl, brandishing a key from his pocket. After sticking it in the lock and shouldering open the door, the man drags you into Oikawa’s apartment, which looks like ground zero. Pillows and clothing are strewn everywhere. There’s a table flipped on its side and empty food containers are littered on the ground here and there. In the middle of it all, curled up in a ball and covered in a blanket is a tear-stained Oikawa. His eyes resemble that of a raccoon as he peels them away from the TV he had been watching from his perch on the couch. 

        It’s a soap opera… about two roommates falling in love. Holy shit, he’s broken.

        “Goddamn, Shittykawa, it smells like someone died in here!” The man who tugged you in here waves his hand to disperse the aromatic funk, only to waft it into your face. You hold back a gag.

        “Something did, Iwa.” He makes eye contact with you for a split second before glancing away. “My happiness.” 

        You can hear your heart break at the jab, but “Iwa” only scoffs. 

        “You big sissy,” he folds his arms and raises an unimpressed brow. “Just talk to her and fucking get over it. We’ve needed you at practice for a week now.” Iwa places a hand on your back and shoves you forward through the mess. It’s not a hard push, but it’s enough for you to get the idea. 

        “Call me when you’re done so I can let the team know you’re okay.” Beefcake begins to exit but halts himself with a hand on the door. “Don’t go dark like that ever again, okay Shittykawa? People worry about you, not just your love life. Let us know what’s going on,” he mumbles over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall. 

        When you turn back around, Oikawa is sniffling and wiping his nose while avoiding your gaze. 

        “So…” you trail off awkwardly, standing in the middle of his apartment like a clean lighthouse amongst a beach of crap. 

        “YN, I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the initiative, but still refuses to look at you. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I knew it was a bad idea from the moment I left your bed.” His voice is absolutely ruined. It sounds like every word scrapes past his throat and rubs it raw. He sounds… broken.

        You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you struggle to breathe at a normal volume. 

        “I just,” he pauses to hide his face in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. With you, yeah it felt different. God, of course it did. It felt amazing. But leaving after was the only thing I knew how to do, no matter what I felt.” 

        His words raise the hair on your arms, and you slowly walk around the random objects, taking your sweet time before you slump down onto the couch beside him.

        “Okay,” you breathe out shakily, eyes also locking on the television. “I get that.” As you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help your gaze straying to his hand. It’s twitching closer and closer to you and you grasp it slowly, interlocking your fingers like long before. His are cold, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smiling at you while you try to warm it up with both hands. 

        “But look,” you pull your legs up onto the couch and swivel to face him, grabbing his other hand and rubbing it in the process, “I’m gonna need a little time to trust you.”

        “That’s okay!” He nods his head frantically and turns to face you as well, copying your position. “I can give you time!” 

        Your lips twitch at his excitement and you shyly glance down at your hands, but your eyes catch on something. The sweatshirt you got him for Christmas. He’s wearing it. Your breath hitches at the sight and Oikawa grows confused, following your gaze down to his clothing choice as well. 

        “Oh. Right.” He forces on a smug smirk. “It’s not that bad now that I’ve tried it on- oof.” You don’t hesitate to yank him into a hug across the couch. To be honest, you were surprised he had kept it. You had expected him to toss it just like you had done to his coupon. Although, to be fair, your gift had already been utilized. 

        With a sigh, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and drag a hand up into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around your back, then seems to gain a little courage as he suddenly squeezes you ten times harder than your ribs can handle. You don’t mind though.

        “I’m sorry for what I said, too,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a kiss against his skin simply because of the convenience. “I love you.” 

        Oikawa freezes in your hold and digs his fingers into your back. “... I love you too.” You sigh happily into his collarbone, pecking his skin more and more as his breathing grows labored. 

        “YN.” He pulls away just enough that there is a minimal amount of space between your noses. His eyes bore into your own with utter seriousness as he rubs his hands up and down your back calmingly. “I need you to know that after that night, I haven’t been with anyone since.” 

        Abruptly, you pull away and snap your brows together. “Really?”

        “Yes.”

        “What about Sakura?” 

        “Who?” You roll your eyes. 

        “Sakura! The girl you pushed out of your apartment?” His eyes widen in realization and he leans back slightly. 

        “Oh crap, you’re right. She was a nutjob!” You scoff.

        “So you did have sex with her.” 

        “No,” he shakes his head and stares deeply into your eyes so you knew he meant it. “I didn’t. She got ahold of me weeks after I stupidly gave her my number in the first place and I had to kick her out of my house after she barged in.” 

        “Oh really, snookums?” You sneer at him and he only chuckles. 

        “Yeah, buttnugget,” he smirks and bounces his forehead against yours lightly. “I mean it. She was an absolute whacknut, and I blocked her right after she left.” 

        “She was carrying her shoes.”

        “You think I’m gonna let her track mud into my apartment?” You glance around with a disbelieving look and nod your head. 

        “Uh yeah.” Oikawa scoffs and gestures around the living room. 

        “Ok, this,” he points his fingers in emphasis, “was all your doing, sweetheart. Congratulations, you're the second person in the world to break me.” 

        “Second? Aw man, who beat me?” You snicker as he smacks your thigh, offended. Then his face darkens and your smirk falters at the sight. 

        “Is something going on between you and Ushiwaka?” The smirk regains its rightful place and you tug on Oikawa’s cheek teasingly. 

        “Aww, Tooru, are you jealous?” He bats your hand away and pouts at you. 

        “Of course! That emotionless bastard told me to stay away from you. Also, everybody knows roommates always fall for each other!” Your face scrunches up at the thought.

        “Okay, who told you that?” He huffs and points at the TV.

        “Sofia and George fell in love after like two weeks of knowing each other! I mean, yeah, he did put her mother in a coma, but that bitch deserved it!” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers at his theory and you don’t hesitate to click the television off before grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the apartment faster than he can say “telenovela.”

        “What are you doing?”

        “Bringing you back out into the real world, where stepmoms don’t poison their daughter-in-laws over a lost diamond.”  

        “They don’t?!”

                                ***

        The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and once again, thankfully, Oikawa is right by your- oh shit, he’s gone! 

        “Tooru?!” you call out in a panic, feeling around the empty mattress for any sign of where he may have gone. “Tooru?! You son of a bitch, I swear if you left again, I will kick your ass!”

        “YN?” Oikawa peeks his head inside your bedroom, throwing you a confused look. “What are you yelling about?” Oops.

        “I thought your bitch-ass left again.” Your husband rolls his eyes at you.

        “Seriously, YN? It’s been five years, give it a rest will you?” You only stick out your tongue and roll out of bed before waddling over to him. 

        “Never.” You smile sweetly and kiss his cheek while he rubs circles on your stomach. With a shake of his head, he lazily returns your grin and lands a large smooch on your forehead before directing you into the kitchen. 

        “I was making you breakfast by the way.” He sets the plate down in front of you, and it’s a pleasant surprise to notice he’s shirtless and only wearing a “kiss the chef” apron over his glorious six pack. “Pancakes and hot sauce, just like your nasty, pregnancy-craving ass requested.”

        “Mmm, delicious.” You rub your pregnant belly and lick your lips hungrily. “Just like baby Ushiwaka wanted.”

        “I told you that joke isn't funny, YN!”

Fake Marks, True Love (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: The hickey was fake, but the pain Oikawa felt when he saw it? It was real, and it hurt like a bitch. “Who touched you?”

A/N: Angst! Angst! Angst (and fluff)! Also, another prank fanfic? Wow! Who’d have thought? Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this fake hickey prank with Aoba Johsai’s cocky setter!

Word count: 1341

        The dark splotch on your neck was perfect. It was slightly below your ear and couldn’t be easily covered by hair or clothing. I could be a makeup artist. You dipped the brush into the powder and dusted it over the mark as a final touch, making it seem more natural and subtle. 

       “And now we wait,” you mutter, packing up the eyeshadows and foundations around you before settling down in the living room. You bundle up in a thick sweatshirt and yoga pants, hopping onto the couch and preparing for Oikawa to come over after finishing practice. 

       About an hour later, the TV is loud and lit up the room with your show, but you could still hear your boyfriend’s knock on the door along with the call of your name. You had almost drifted off to sleep, so you yawn while rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. 

       “YN!” He rang the doorbell obnoxiously until you whipped open the door with a fierce glare.

       “Was that really necessary?” you hiss, the jingles still ringing in your ears. 

       “Of course,” he scoffed, “I wanted to see you. Be flattered.” He smirks at you before stepping inside, glancing around your house while kicking off his shoes. 

       “The Office? Really?” He raised a brow at your entertainment choice. “You’ve watched that like a million times.”

       “And I’ll watch it a million more, so get used to it.” You stick out your tongue and trudge back over to the couch, Oikawa snagging your waist in the process and following closely behind you. His hands were cold from outside and rough from his practice. 

       “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” He sighs dramatically and flops onto the sofa beside you, plopping his sweaty head on your lap. 

       “Ew, ew, ewww!” You pat his forehead in an effort to urge him to move but he only swats your hand away. 

       “Shush,” he relaxes both arms behind his head, not-so subtly caressing your thighs in the process. “It’s not that bad.” You know he’s right. Sweaty or not, his hair is always soft and calming to run your hands through, so you do it. 

       “See?” His brown eyes glow from down on your lap and you roll your own at him.

       “Fine, you win-”

       “God, I love hearing those words.”

       “Now shut up and let me watch Jim prank Dwight.”

       “Fine, I will. Now you shush and let me,” he pauses for a second, looking up at your face confusedly, “... stare… at… you,” he trails off. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are filled with pain. What’s wrong with him? You glance down curiously before returning your gaze to the screen.

       A hand of his peels out from under his head and reaches up to brush over your face then down under your ear. Smiling faintly, you lean into his touch. He was gentle with his movements and you close your eyes to focus on the feeling. “YN.” 

       You hum in response. 

       “Who touched you?” His voice is tense and restrained. Your eyes fly open and narrow in confusion.

       “What?”

       “Who did this?” He sits up and turns to face you, keeping his fingers against the side of your neck. “Who stole you from me?”

       “What are you-” Oh shit.

       Your hand flies up to feel for the fake hickey, but Oikawa’s is already there. 

       “Yeah, that’s right,” he sneers while his voice trembles, “I saw it.” You’re conflicted between ending it right now by telling him and staying silent to see where it goes. Wait, why did I do this again?

       “How could you?” His Adam’s apple bobs while he pushes your hair back once more to view the artificial mark, only to scoff in disbelief and shake his head. You breathe out waveringly and fidget with your fingers. Should I stop now? God, why am I doing this?

       “It’s not what you think.” You avoid his gaze and mutter more excuses, “I just fell.” He gives you a pained smile and his eyes start to water. 

       “On your neck?” he whispers breathlessly. You nod and he shakes his head once more, loosening a tear from his eye. 

       “YN, please. Tell me the truth.”

       “I am!” you plead.

       “You’re lying!” he exclaims suddenly, pushing off the couch to pace back and forth in front of you anxiously. His hands tug on his hair harshly while he bites his lip. 

       “How long?”

       “Baby, it’s not-”

       “Who was it?”

       “Tooru-”

       “Was he better than me?” he whispers, eyes filled with hurt while he watches you.

       “Tooru, no, it’s a prank!” you shout, standing up and approaching him, only to be stopped by his outstretched hands. 

       “YN, I can’t.” He shakes his head and your heart stops. 

       “Can’t what?” you ask softly, eyes welling up with tears.

       “I can’t stay here.” Oikawa stumbles back, searching the floor frantically for his shoes. “I-,” he chokes back a sob, “I can’t be with you anymore.” 

       “Tooru wait!” You sprint over and slide into the door, slamming it shut just as he opens it. Tears fall down his face silently as you let out trembling breaths. Without a word, you grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

       “YN don’t-”

       “Shut up.” Your voice cracks pitifully as you drag him in and switch on the light. You hold him in place with a tight grip and silently turn on the faucet. 

       “YN…” he trails off in awe, watching as you rub away the fake love mark until it is only an awkward rash of purple under your ear. Slowly, you turn your head up to face him in the mirror, dropping his hand and leaning against the counter while you wait. 

       “It was just a prank,” you mumble, pursing your lips and losing yourself in his brown eyes. At last, he seems to hear you. And believe you. His nose flairs and he frantically wipes at his cheeks, hoping to erase the wave of sadness from earlier. Then he lets out a forced chuckle.

       “Thank God,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-” Oikawa breaks off with a whimper and pulls you into an embrace, weeping gently into your shoulder. In an instant, you return the hug, but you widen your eyes in an attempt to keep your own cries at bay. The resistance doesn’t last long, and you tuck your head into his neck, squeezing the back of his shirt tightly while you let out your own body-wracking sobs.

       “Don’t ever do that again,” he begs, sighing when you press a kiss to his neck.

       “Never,” you promise, nodding in agreement. Hesitantly, he leans back to look at your face and uses a thumb to wipe away a stray tear. For a moment longer, his fingers stroke your cheek before trailing down to your chin, swiftly pulling you forward for a kiss. Your lips clash together and you both let out a moan at the feeling. His bottom lip is puffy from when he had bitten on it devastatedly earlier, but you don’t hesitate to perform the same job in the heat of the moment.

       Oikawa groans before separating to allow you to breathe. The break doesn’t last long, and you sigh wantonly when he begins to attack the skin of your throat.

       “My marks are the only ones that should ever touch your neck,” he gives you a heated glance while you gaze back dazedly and nod in agreement. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he mumbles, lips brushing hotly against you with every syllable. After a harsh bite, you mewl and dig your hands into his hair, yanking on the brunet’s tufts encouragingly. 

       “Please do.”