Prompt: “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
Since there was no more information given for this, I decided to make it for Oikawa, meeting a teasing/eccentric person with a prank streak a mile wide. That, and I really wanted to write a rom-com scenario. It’s not that much romance (if at all, really), but I had fun writing it which is what matters.
Oikawa had to admit, you sure as hell made good chocolates.
It is customary for him to receive chocolates during Valentine’s Day from his admirers. Although the cards would have beautifully laced ‘obligatory chocolates’ imprinted in ink or written in icing along the center of the heart-shaped chocolate, he knew that aside from a few, they weren’t just obligatory.
Yours catches his eye a tad more than the others, though, because he can’t understand it. It’s weird, to say the least—who makes alien-shaped chocolates with the writing ‘you’re out of this world!’ and their name on the inside of their card?
Iwaizumi usually could care less, but he finds it funny to watch Oikawa’s confused (and remarkably bemused) stare at the chocolate piece in his hand. They stand outside Oikawa’s classroom after school to head to volleyball practice, and Iwaizumi glances at the chocolate and back at Oikawa and asks, “Who found out about your lame alien obsession?”
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, a knowing smirk on his face, “Was it you, Matsukawa, or Hanamaki.”
“None of us would ever think of sending you chocolates, ever. That’d feed your ego too much.” Iwaizumi glares back. “Besides, it has a name on it, right?”
“True…” Oikawa says, thoroughly stumped at the mystery of the chocolate aliens, “(l/n)(f/n)… She’s in our class, right?”
“I don’t keep track of your fangirls.”
Names and faces flash through Oikawa’s head as he tries to remember who you are. He frowns, looking upwards as if the answer is written on the ceiling, but the answer remains behind him as he hears his name being called down the hall.
He turns, putting on his usual charming smile. “Oh, (l/n)-san! I was just having the chocolates you sent right now, actually—er, Iwaizumi and I, I mean.” He makes sure to include Iwaizumi, because if he makes you think that the chocolates are exclusively for him, you’ll get the wrong idea for sure. “They’re really good!”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at Oikawa’s weak attempt at indirect rejection.
You smile. “Oh, really? That’s great… so you like them, then?”
“Yeah, for sure!” Oikawa gives a reassuring ‘OK’ hand gesture and smiles back. “Anyways, Iwa-chan and I have to—”
“W-Would you… be willing to have them every day, then?” You ask, twiddling your fingers and averting your gaze.
“Ehh? (l/n)-san, are you asking me to marry you?” He says cheerfully, with a flirtatious and teasing smile and wink to match. He avoids the question completely, which is what he wanted and what he’s accustomed to, but—
Your voice goes flat in seriousness as you stop fidgeting and look at Oikawa almost robotically. Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s eyes both widen. There’s no way—you can’t be serious—
Oikawa pauses for a moment, and his smile falters. He takes a slow side glance in your direction to try and tell if you’re joking. Your voice sounded comically serious, but there was no way—you two were high schoolers. He knew his fans could be insane, but he never actually expected this. Normally, people would blush and squeal and stutter something like, “Wh-What? No! I mean… maybe… in a while…” but he was joking. He had never heard anyone so bluntly accept what was clearly a joke.
You look back at him, meeting his flabbergasted stare, purse-lipped smile and furrowed eyebrows with your own deadpan for a few seconds. The blush on his face went from ear to ear, and he seemed to be thinking of some way to let you down nicely. He didn’t look disgusted, per se, but he definitely did not look as composed as he did when he turned down everyday confessions.
“Congratulations,” Iwaizumi says beside him. He gives a sardonic puff of air just short of a laugh, since he knows that Oikawa’s superficiality finally got him into a tight situation with a crazed fan. A stalker that found out he liked aliens, and now a marriage proposal? This was too good.
Oikawa gives a jejune chuckle, vowing to curse Iwaizumi later in his head, and looks back at you. “Um, as much as I… er… appreciate it, I—”
You can’t take it anymore, and burst out in laughter. Both Iwaizumi and Oikawa are thrown for a loop again, and between laughs, you manage to tell them, “you should… holy crap… the looks on your faces…”
Iwaizumi’s the first to shake out of the stupor, laughing along with you at Oikawa, and he says, “You totally fell for that.”
Oikawa’s face was more than red at this point, having been thoroughly duped, and glares at Iwaizumi. “Oh, shut it, Iwa-chan! You did, too!” He directs his anger towards you. “Who are you, anyways? Aren’t you just pretending it’s a joke ‘cause you knew I was going to reject you, or something?”
“No? I’m sorry, Oikawa-san. My friends told me that when you rejected them, you looked so composed and I bet that I could get it so that you wouldn’t be… but this… this is great.” You laugh. “Don’t worry. Don’t get me wrong, you’re cute and all, it’s just—a little too fake for me.”
Oikawa glares at you, but Iwaizumi seems to have taken a liking. “Then what about the aliens?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Aliens? What about them? Those are a little random, I guess. I just like aliens.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi smirks, “so does he.”
“Oh, really?” You ask, genuinely surprised. “What a coincidence.”
“Yeah, what a coincidence.” Oikawa repeats sarcastically, giving the same kind of condescending stare he’d give Kageyama or Ushijima, “Anyway, Iwa-chan. Practice.”
Iwaizumi grins at you one last time before the two start heading off, but you call Oikawa out one last time.
“Still, Oikawa-san, marriage might not be all that bad.”
He can’t tell how serious or joking you are, so he simply glares and turns away as Iwaizumi chuckles and teases him down the hall.
“Coach, that person’s been watching us for a while now. I thought the policy was to kick fans out of the gym because of what happened last time?” Oikawa says, smiling leisurely at his coach, but he can’t help the short glare he sends at you in the stands.
“No, Oikawa, (l/n)-san is the new manager.” The coach replies, not averting his eyes away from his clipboard.
