Game of the Insane (Yandere Haikyuu!! x F!Reader Oneshots)

INSULTING (Oikawa Tooru)

I was laughing so hard at this...

Title: Insulting

Pairings: Yandere! Oikawa Tooru x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

AU: Soulmate AU where your soulmate's first words to you are written somewhere on your body.

Description: Oikawa always knew his soulmate would be someone... special, but he didn't expect just how much.

You could tell he was a "Prince Charming" type of guy from first sight. He had a smile of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth, windswept hair, and a gaggle of girls following him around.

The second semester of the last year of high school was not the ideal time to transfer schools. Everyone was already in cliques and had their friends picked out. You were all alone.

And the prince of the school seemed to sniff that out like a shark with blood in the water. He made a beeline for you, opening his mouth to talk, no doubt about to say something flirty.

The words blurted out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.

"Sub and bottom."

His mouth dropped.

The girls seethed with anger, sending you dirty looks. His friends were laughing. And the princely idiot?

He smiled.

"No one's talked to me like that," he said, watching your expression fall.

You tugged on your sleeve self-consciously, feeling ill. You'd recognize those words anywhere. This was your soulmate?

The moment your eyes met his, you felt an unmistakable tug in your chest. That awful, sickening little jolt of fate.

Of course it had to be this guy. Of course your soulmate was an idiot pretty boy.

He tilted his head. His gaze was as intense as a cat looking at a mouse. "You felt that too, didn't you?"

His fangirls and friends looked confused by his words and you realized he must have kept his soulmate mark hidden from them. Right now, the only people in the world who knew you were soulmates were you and him.

You didn't answer, but your silence was confirmation enough for him. "Well, well," he grinned, "Looks like this semester just got more interesting."

You turned on your heels and stormed away. You'd just pretend it never happened. You'd ignore him.

No way was this random guy going to make your school life miserable.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. You refused to look back even though you could feel him watching you. Your classroom was only two doors away. Just a few more steps and you'd be rid of-

"(Y/n)!"

How did he know your name? You kept walking, a chill running down your spine.

"You don't have to act so shy," he called out, clearly having the time of his life. Everyone turned to watch you. "We're only soulmates!"

Gasps rang up and down the hallway. You walked faster, eyes staring at the tile floor. You could hear his steps behind you and your heart began to pound.

"You're not being very soulmate-like, you know!"

You could sense the teasing in his voice, but there was something darker underneath that. It was as though he knew you couldn't run from him forever. You could, however, fling the classroom door open and hurry inside, picking a random seat and willing your heart to stop.

You sat stiffly, your nails digging into the wood of your desk. All you could hear was whispering, like the buzzing of bees, as everyone in the class stared back at you. The room began to spin, a sea of muted colors and echoing voices.

The bell rang and the teacher walked inside, a red binder under one arm. The whispering mercifully stopped. But the longer you sat there, the harder it was to breathe. You tried to lose yourself in the teacher's words, anything to distract yourself from the ringing in your ears and the phantom feeling of him.

The door to the classroom opened and a familiar voice said, "Sorry that I'm late."

You froze in place, begging whatever higher power there was out there to make him leave. The teacher didn't bat an eye, just made a mark on her attendance sheet and said, "Take a seat, Oikawa."

Oikawa strolled in like he owned the place. A grin played across his lips as his eyes landed on you. He moved past empty seats, heading directly for the one next to you. He pulled out the chair beside you, scraping it loudly across the linoleum.

He sat down slowly, then leaned in, propping an elbow on his desk. "I was hoping we'd have this class together," he said softly so only you could hear.

You kept your eyes trained on the whiteboard at the front of the class.

"Guess it's just fate, huh?" he continued.

You refused to respond. You didn't even blink. You pretended the words written on the board were more important than the warmth of him sitting so close.

His knee brushed against yours under the desk. You shifted away quickly.

"Your mark," he murmured, "It's on your arm, isn't it?"

Your breath caught in your lungs.

"I could feel it when we met eyes," he said, voice still too low for anyone else to hear, "You've got it too, right? That ache?"

You didn't respond, but you did let your mind wander. You didn't feel any sort of ache at all. Was that a good thing or bad?

He leaned in so closely that you could feel the heat of his minty fresh breath.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "I won't show you my mark until you're ready."