The Storyteller (Oikawa Tooru x reader)

24. lover boy

"Will you stop doing those goddamn drop shots!" you shouted, waving your racket angrily from across the court at your dad.

In response, he stuck out his tongue at you, then proceeded to laugh to himself in a narcissistic manner. The notion made you grind your teeth furious, and your rage further increased when you heard Oikawa stifling giggles from where he sat on the bench at the side.

You were beginning to regret life so much.

Oikawa had asked to see you play tennis, so that he could take notes for his own sport; and you certainly hadn't wanted to let him watch, because your father was your only playing partner, and when you played…

… oh boy, was the volume in the court astronomical. 

But, you owed him.

So now he got to look on at you and your dad slinging insults at each other as you hit the ball back and forth. Plus, it was around 7 in the evening, so neither of you were in a great mood.

"Come on, it's your serve," your dad proclaimed, quickly tossing you a ball.

You received it with your racket, your face twisting into a scowl; and that scowl only deepened when you heard a familiar voice.

"Oikawa-kun! Sorry I'm late!" Rin rushed over from the entrance to the court to the bench where he was.

"I invited Rin-chan because I thought I'd get lonely," Oikawa elaborated for you, smiling apologetically. 

(Permission to slap this fucker to Jupiter?)

Your father gave you a confused look, as if to ask, "The fuck why is she here?"

You could only respond with a grimace and a shrug, signifying, "I don't fucking know."

He raised an eyebrow at you, and tipped his sunglasses, down, to which you flapped your hand dismissively, and then prepared to serve. You'd learned a lot from watching Oikawa play, and had adapted to stretch your arm to its maximum height, as well as tossing the ball to that level, and adding a small jump.

Needless to say, it helped immensely, and since it was the first time he saw you do it, you were incredibly nervous. 

But, whatever. You'd just have to get this bullshit over with.

(Honestly though, you could do without that twat Rin sitting there.)

You stood sideways, eyes fixated on the opposite side of the court, deciding where to aim, before dropping your gaze, to the ball in your hand. Then, you leaned back, and tossed, quickly moving your racket behind your head, watching the ball carefully, until stepping forwards, and pushing yourself upwards slightly.

The effect was pretty good, all things considered; as soon as you hit the ball in midair, and hastily did a follow up, it sped across net, and bounced in the corner.

(Not exactly where you'd been aiming, but you could work on that.)

You dad scrambled to return it, but his shot hit the net, giving you the point. A huff of victory escaped you, and you folded your arms, very pleased with yourself. "Whoops, are you having some trouble there, Dad?" you teased smugly.

"Talk shit again and I'll hit you with a shoe!" he snapped, getting up with difficulty. 

You just cackled to yourself, exactly like the vine of that dude looking in the mirror with yellow sunglasses.

Not daring to look over to where the happy couple sat, you quickly readied yourself to serve again, this time with a tad more confidence.

Once you two had finished playing, you and your father begrudgingly shook hands over the net, whilst giving each other the stink eye, before coming over to the benches.

"Your backhand still sucks ass," your dad proclaimed, as he removed his water bottle from his bag.

"Well you can't run," you retorted dryly.

"Hey! My thighs are not what they used to be!"

Oikawa chuckled at your interactions, then held up a peace sign at you; "Well played, (Y/n)-chan! I think I've learned quite a bit!"

You squinted at him, whilst cleaning your glasses. "Such as?" you questioned, sitting down heavily on a lone chair, next to your father (who was sulking).

"Well," Oikawa rested his chin in his hand, as he faced you properly. "Tennis is certainly more difficult than I thought. I never really considered how lucky I was to have teammates, but now I value them even more. It's like you said before, in tennis you're responsible for your own mistakes."

"Got that right," you laughed dryly.

"Didn't you used to play in competitions?" Rin suddenly asked.

(You weren't expecting an inquiry from her so it caught you off guard slightly.)

"Yes…" you trailed off, placing your glasses back on.

"Why did you stop?" she continued, almost as if she was trying to humiliate you.

"I was busy," you shrugged absentmindedly. "Besides, I'm not exactly a prodigy, so I can't really match up to anyone."

"(Y/n), we do not say that word here," your father grumbled.

"For fuck's sake---Dad, it's not going to summon a demon!"

"Well I feel attacked and upset when you say it! It's a hate crime!"

"... that's not how it works—"

"Well I hate it!" 

-

On the way out of the tennis court, Rin attempted to convince Oikawa to come on a quick date with her, to which he denied, saying it was too late.

"Come on, Oikawa-kun! Just a small bite to eat!" she whined, batting her eyelashes.

You and your father shared an awkward glance.

"Ah, sorry Rin-chan! My mum's going to get angry if I don't get back soon!" Oikawa replied sheepishly. 

"Hmph!" Rin huffed, folding her arms, and puffing out her cheeks, making for a very cutesy look.

Again, you and your father shared an awkward glance.

"Aww, fine!" Oikawa exclaimed, pinching her face fondly. "I can't resist it when you do that!"

In response, Rin giggled and nuzzled into his hand. "That's why I did it," she sang cheekily.

A strained cough interrupted the moment, courtesy of your dad; the couple turned, to find the both of you standing there in a maladroit fashion, with your father trying to whistle, and you staring pointedly at a lamppost. 

"We're, umm, gonna yeet the skeet now," you stammered, flapping your hand, in an attempt to wave.

"Take care of your kneecaps!..." your father added with a forced laugh, before you both scuttled off, like two kids who'd been caught stealing cake.

"What the fuck was that?!" you hissed, when you were out of earshot from them.

"I could feel the second hand embarrassment in my soul!" you dad agreed, clutching at his chest.

There was a pause, then you questioned, "Were you… whistling the 'Touch You' theme back there?"

You father choked. "No!"

"Yes you fucking were!"