« oikawa x reader »
"I LIKE YOU, Oikawa-kun," you managed to say in front of the said boy during a cold, snowy day after class after seven rounds of severe hyperventilation and a panic attack. The words themselves seemed too shallow to label the whirlpool of mixed emotions that you felt for Oikawa, which pained you a lot.
The particular sentence has probably been spoken by hundreds of girls all with the same intention, but yours was much, much deeper than that, but it wasn't any better, sadly. You sounded just like another one of his fans.
"Please go out with me."
See here, you weren't just another fan of the pretty-boy setter — you were his fucking sibling. No need to belt out the lyrics of 'Sweet Home Alabama' because you actually weren't related to him in any way at all. You just happened to be neighbors when you were really young and ended up sticking together until high school like gum on a shoe.
It sucks, because author-chan could've used this opportunity to create an incest oneshot, but she's got other plans for that. Now, to end the breaking of the fourth wall, let's see what Oikawa has to say because this paragraph didn't turn into an interview at all.
Oikawa placed a hand over the back of his neck and chuckled. "Sheesh, at least you could've been more enthusiastic about confessing, (Y/N)-chan," Oh boy, how this reply freaked you out.
But then he stepped a little closer, and that little closer made him close enough so you could smell the distinct scent of his cologne that you'd always secretly swoon on when he walks by. That little closer made your tiny, fragile heart beat so fast it was hard to breathe, and that little closer made you want to wrap your arms around him in search for the feeling of your body pressed against his.
That little closer wasn't little at all.
"Sure, let's go out."
***
"Oi, Shittykawa!" Yelled Iwaizumi-kun from the other side of the court during their usual practice. Nothing was out of the blue for the men's volleyball team in Aoba Johsai: Iwa-chan's dishing out threats to his friend like they were words of encouragement, and Oikawa's whining like a bitch in perfect sync. You, the manager, was perched on one of the benches with a notebook and timer in hand, watching the boys play and fuss at the same time.
"I'll shove a ball up in your ass if you mess this one up!"
Oikawa, as if it was programmed in his system, whined and threw himself all over his spiky-haired friend. "Iwa-chaaaaan, you don't mean thaaat, do you?" He cried, sinking to his knees in despair after being pushed away. "You're soooo mean."
Iwaizumi sighed, rubbing his temples in hopes to relieve the intense headache the setter was giving him. Then again, when was the time he didn't? "Anyways, you should probably stop paying attention to me,"
"But Iwa-chaaaaan," Oikawa protested, "I love you!"
"You're going out with the manager, right? You should probably keep an eye on her. She attracts a lot of attention."
"Eh?" The brown-haired setter uttered as a response. His eyes flicked towards you sitting on the bench still, now sandwiched by two underclassmen whom Oikawa didn't recognize from the club. It was clear that you weren't comfortable with this situation, given your flustered, yet displeased expression. As disturbing as it may sound though, Oikawa found it hot.
"Ne, ne, (L/N)-senpai," one of the boys leaned closer, not minding your personal space. "You look really cute today. How about we visit an ice cream shop downtown after club?"
