The Storyteller (Oikawa Tooru x reader)

12. similarities

"What the fuckity fuck?!" you stuttered, sitting up straight, as you watched Oikawa's serve fly across the court. You'd never seen such a harsh hit; all things considered, in terms of volleyball, it looked more like a spike.

Oikawa saw your stare of disbelief, and a smirk instantly crossed his face. "If you keep making that face, (Y/n)-chan, something might come in," he teased.

You heated up, bristling with embarrassment at his innuendo, and held up your middle finger, which caused his teammates to howl with laughter, as Oikawa huffed indignantly at your gesture.

With a grumble, you then lowered your hand, and crossed your legs, glancing over to the clock at the end of the hall; it was around 16:30, so you'd been here for two hours, somehow. You vaguely wondered if your dad was alright, although you'd texted with him about an hour ago.

Then, you reverted your gaze back to the court, watching now with renewed interest, paying special attention to Oikawa's godly serve. Were there any similarities between volleyball and tennis? Because if that was the case, you could ask him for some advice.

As your father had said, you were incredibly strong, and your hits packed a lot of punch, however your technique was barely scraping the border of average. When you were small, you had been quite the stubborn bastard, refusing to take much advice.

At that age, shockingly enough, you'd been amazingly headstrong and confident.

That personality dwindled away as you got older.

Time seemed to speed up a little bit, and all of a sudden the practice was over, and you were being approached by Oikawa, who had the most infuriating smug expression. "So then," he spoke smoothly, "it seemed like you were quite impressed by my serves."

"If you don't mind... could I ask some questions about that? A-After you get changed of course," you added hurriedly, not wanting to seem pushy or give off fan behaviour.

"Hmm... well, tell you what," he held up a finger, and gave your nose a small tap. "I'm going to stay behind for a bit and practice my serves, so why don't you stick around and I'll show you what I do?"

Your nose wrinkled, and your hands instinctively flew up to your glasses, to push them up. "I mean, I guess so," you muttered, trying not to let your thoughts run wild about how you'd be alone together.

"That's what I thought!" Oikawa exclaimed cheerfully, "You might be a little bit awkward (Y/n)-chan, but I can certainly pull anyone into a friendship!"

You were silent, attempting to take in just how big this boy's ego was. "Who told you that you were hot shit?" you spluttered.

"Many, many people," Oikawa replied, smirking to himself as he said it; he seemed to have stated it more for his own self gratitude rather than telling you.

"I'm not one of them," Iwaizumi called out, as he passed you two. "(L/n), if he annoys you, just tell me tomorrow, and I'll beat him up."

"How violent, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa screeched, bristling like a cat.