Content I Create

on the ground || oikawa tooru x reader

|| note: this is inspired by on the ground by rose of blackpink

|| pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

|| angst to fluff || from the author: my first fic after rebranding !! i hope you guys like this !! requests are open but please read my rules first !! thank you guys <3

-fic starts below the cut-

"everything i need is on the ground"

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the gym floor echoed in the spacious gym, the rhythmic thud of a volleyball bouncing reverberating through the air. Oikawa Tooru's eyes were focused, his determination palpable as he practiced yet another serve. It was his routine—volleyball was his world, and nothing else seemed to matter as much.

Except, there was something—or rather, someone—who used to matter just as much, if not more.

You.

You had been by his side since middle school, a constant presence of warmth and support, always cheering him on from the sidelines. But as the years went by and Oikawa’s obsession with perfecting his game grew, that warmth began to fade. Dates were rescheduled, conversations were cut short, and the time you once shared was slowly replaced with endless practice sessions.

It all culminated in a tearful breakup during your second year of high school. You had tried to make him understand that you didn’t want to be second to volleyball, that you missed him, the real him. But Oikawa had been too blinded by his ambitions to see the pain in your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tooru,” you had whispered, voice breaking as you walked away.

And just like that, you were gone.

The summer before his third year, Oikawa’s life came crashing down. A knee injury, the one thing every athlete feared, had struck him hard. The pain wasn’t just physical—it was a reminder of his limitations, of the fragility of the dream he had sacrificed so much for.

The clinic door swung open as he limped out, his mind a whirlpool of frustration and regret. But as he stepped onto the street, the world seemed to blur around him, his thoughts drowning in memories of you.

He remembered the time you had pulled him into a quaint café after a tough practice, insisting that he needed a break. You had laughed so freely, the sound like music to his ears. There was the time you had walked home together, your hand slipping into his as you talked about everything and nothing.

As if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, he looked up and saw you.

You stood there, just a few feet away, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the past hanging between you like a storm cloud.

“Tooru,” you finally said, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

His heart clenched at the sound of his name on your lips. He took a step forward, his gaze pleading. “(Y/N)... I’m sorry. For everything. I was a fool for letting you go.”

You swallowed, eyes darting away. “It’s not that simple, Tooru.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice hoarse with sincerity. “But I want to make it right. I want to be the person you deserve, the person who puts you first.”

You looked at him, searching his face for something—maybe the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “I need time, Tooru. I’m not sure if I can just... go back to how things were.”

He nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed.”

As the third year of high school began, Oikawa kept his promise. The Aoba Johsai boys’ volleyball team noticed the difference immediately. He was still their determined captain, but something had shifted. He was softer, more thoughtful, as if he was trying to balance his two loves—volleyball and you.

He’d leave little notes in your locker, encouraging you through exams. He’d show up at your door with your favorite snacks, claiming he just happened to be in the neighborhood. The team watched, amused and supportive, as Oikawa worked to win you back.

But it was after Aoba Johsai’s crushing loss to Karasuno that everything came to a head. Oikawa was devastated, his heart breaking not just from the loss, but from the realization that he might never be enough, that all his efforts might be in vain.

Iwaizumi found you in the stands, watching as Oikawa sat slumped on the court, tears in his eyes.

“He needs you,” Iwaizumi said simply, a rare softness in his usually stern voice.

You didn’t hesitate. You made your way to the court, your heart pounding as you knelt beside Oikawa. He looked up at you, his expression crumbling at the sight of you there, by his side, where you had always been.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words raw with emotion. “I tried so hard, but I still couldn’t—”

“Shh,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms. “You did your best, Tooru. That’s all that matters.”

He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, the weight of his insecurities and regrets heavy on his shoulders. And as you held him, you realized that despite everything, you still loved him. The boy who had once neglected you had grown, had changed, and you knew he deserved another chance.

“Let’s start over,” you murmured against his hair.

He pulled back slightly, hope flickering in his tear-streaked eyes. “Really?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Really.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft and desperate, a kiss that spoke of promises and second chances. The world faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally pulled apart, the rest of the team was watching, grins on their faces.

“About time,” Matsukawa teased, earning a smack on the back of the head from Hanamaki.

“You did good, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, a rare smile on his lips.

Oikawa smiled back, a genuine, heartfelt smile as he intertwined his fingers with yours. He knew that this was just the beginning—a new chapter in both his life and his relationship with you.

And this time, he was determined to get it right.

I am tired of being sad. I wish I could find the will to write. I wish I could write to cure the ache in my chest. I want to write, but the fatigue fogs my brain, making me tired and adding to the lingering ache. Yet I want to write but the will lowers with fatigue threatening to drown me.

happy logan sargeant in an indycar month to those who celebrate

Byung-hun in Mr Sunshine photo dump.

Oh, to be Ae-shin..

im having writer’s block omg

Incredibly 'Man' Things You'd Find Them Doingˎˊ˗

this is sooooo funny. basically the guys being masculine.

Neil would sneak behind you to grab tea. Nothing said, just slipping his arm past your waist to get a kettle and make his morning earl grey. Gives you shivers lol.

Steven does your taxes for you. He'd insist you'd be there to give him warm company, but he'd distractedly put your leg up his lap and squeeze on your ankle. He lets it stay there, eyes focused, fingers gripping his pen and etching on whatever is necessary. He would pull you back if you even attempted going away.

Richard would have road rage. Not the annoying loans-it-on-you kind. It's the him yelling out "I've got my wife in the car. Steer right, you asshole!" kind. He's stuck with taking deep breaths the next few minutes, then kissing the back of your palm, "I'm sorry, honey"... after it he'll return being laser-focused on finding your destination. ^_^

Charlie fixes things; whether it's your porch swing that always creaks, the barbecue grill your family hasn't used in years, or the hole on the ceiling no one bothered to patch back up. One day you'll just find him with oil smothered all over his shirt, hands, chin. He comes up to you and when you ask him what he just did, he swings a towel on his neck and urges you back in. He's mister "Nothing, baby. I got it all covered."

Todd bites on things to stabilize them. Making a kite? The string is in mouth as he sticks the paper in place. Tracing the lawn fence? He has a marker on his mouth, closing it with a 'click!' when he's finished. He gives you a triumphant grin right after and you always melt.

Knox domineers for you in the sweetest most ugh way you could fathom. He'd speak to strangers when you're not feeling up for it, he'd order what you love off the menu as you hold onto his arm and snuggle against him, and he'll help you lift that huge pile of groceries to the house in one go. He gets all sweaty and panting after, and it really gets you.

Gerard rubs on your hips lovingly when you sit on his lap, all dreamy-eyed as he looks up to your eyes. He admires you so much, his girl, his woman. "You're my everything," he'd croak out so quietly, you barely heard it. It ends with you cooing at him, pampering him with love.

.........

dedicated to:

@someone-sss @sorazki @tofallatlastbutfair @shemisseshome @yournormalidiot @anderperry-soliloquies @unfortunately-lilith @heyyyloverr @theduckwithafroghat @marzcrx @dpspolariod @itslusii @blackestwhiteswan @awkwardducks @sleeping-arsonist @asuperconfusedgirl @ajsljfe @noam-isd

he is like deeply engraved in my brain atp.

you don't even get three episodes into tom and jerry before that faggot jerry uses mistletoe to get tom to stop chasing him and kiss him instead. and that faggot tom coquettishly complies.

MASTERL𝓲ST ✶ house MD.

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