mygscafe
mygscafe
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mygscafe · 2 years ago
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. .ㅤ 🌷cute kaomoji masterpost ! 🍒💭💌
૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡
(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ´っω=`) ₍ᐢ× ༝ ×ᐢ₎
₍ᐡ-᷅ ·̫ -᷄ᐡ₎ ₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎ (´,,>ω<,,`)♡
₍ᐢ> ̫<ᐢ₎ (´・ω・`): ( ;´꒳`;) ₍ᐡඉ ̫ඉᐡ₎
ᐡ⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ᐡ ₍ᐡ-᷅ ·̫ -᷄ᐡ₎ ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و
(ヾノ・ω・`) (๑´`๑)♡ ˃̣̣̥᷄ ᴖ ˂̣̣̥᷅ ‎ᐡ ᐧ ﻌ ᐧ ᐡ
(⸝⸝º ^ º⸝⸝ ) ( ˊᵕˋ ; ) ( ᴗ ̫ ᴗ ) (๑♡⌓♡๑)
⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ ₍ᐢ˶• ˔ กᐢ₎ ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ა ₍ᐢ•ﻌ•ᐢ₎
( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) ๑´ ³`)ノ ଘ( ິ•ᆺ• )ິଓ ꒰˘꒳˘๑꒱
໒(^ᴥ^)७ ◟꒰◍ ´꒳` ◍꒱◞ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ( •ω•ฅ)
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ (๑´ㅂ`๑) (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) ต( ິᵒ̴̶̷̤ ﻌ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ )ິ
ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ (´๑•_•๑) Ꮚ˘ ꈊ ˘ Ꮚ ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎◞ ̑̑
(ㅅ´ ˘ `) (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ) (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮₍•᷄ ࡇ •᷅₎ა ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
(´。• ◡ •。`) ♡ ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა
(·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡ 🐾૮ ᴖﻌᴖა
⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ (๑•ᴗ•๑)♡ ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。)
ᑦ(੭・㉨・)ᐣ ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ (≧∇≦) (*≧∀≦*)
(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) (๑>◡<๑) ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰
enjoyyy! and happy 100 followers <3 🍓
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mygscafe · 3 years ago
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[7:25 PM - OSAMU]
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osamu doesn’t remember how to breathe.
it could be because of the panic attack he just had, or simply because he cant bring himself to get out of the car.
what if you changed your mind?
what if he took you out, and mid-celebration, you decided that you chose the wrong person? the wrong twin?
saying that osamu felt inferior to his twin is atrocious, because no, he didn’t. he didn’t feel like a lesser being when he stood next to his other half, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like he was below him.
what he does feel like, is a second choice — a rebound — because while osamu may not feel like his twin is better than him, the people around him might disagree.
osamu would be lying if he said that he didnt hate his twin for it sometimes — for the days he spent looking into the mirror, trying to figure out what set them apart. what was it that made osamu so unlikeable, next to his brother?
it became an insecurity as they grew up, a rot that was eating away at osamu’s self worth. he shared a face with his twin. he shared a sport with his twin — and for the nights that tsumu needed someone to confide in, he shared a bed with him, too.
they were almost the same, and yet so different.
the insecurity then turned into and inferiority that osamu had sworn to never feel against his brother. the words, the looks, the stares, they all said the exact same thing.
he would never leave atsumu. he would stay with his twin; forever by his side, forever in his shadow.
but then there’s you, and osamu has never wanted something as bad as he wants you.
when it comes to you, osamu doesn’t give a shit about comparing to atsumu. he’s been used to girls that would double cross him to get to his twin, and over time, he lost the ability to care anymore.
but he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you end up to be one of those girls. he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but loosing you would mean taking another blow to his pride; the pride that had so effortlessly withered away, and now rested in the hope that you wanted osamu, just as bad as he wanted you.
but he’s so used to the thought that you might leave him, that it’s getting harder and harder to trust you; to trust what you say, to trust you when you tell osamu that you love him more than anything.
he’s heard it all before.
and its selfish of him, so selfish, to put the burden of his insecurities upon your shoulders — to charge you with the responsibility of loving him, of rebuilding his self-worth, that was reduced to almost nothing.
you said you would do it, because you love him.
there was so much truth in your voice, that osamu had been afraid it was a lie.
all the promises, and yet osamu can’t get out of the car.
he can’t find it in him to get out and knock on your door, to thank your mom and dad for allowing him to take you out.
he cant handle the thought of being rejected by you, and the voice in his head yelling at him to protect the bit of sanity he has left is convincing.
and maybe, if not for the knock on his window, he would’ve found it in him to breathe again, and drive away. he would’ve told himself that he’s better off protecting his weak heart, than to give it to someone he is so undeserving of.
to the person who knocked on his window.
osamu looks up, and watches as you walk around the car to get into the passenger seat.
he looks away quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand — and yet he’s not quick enough, because you’re in the car now, and you’re turning his face to yours.
your face is pampered, proof of the effort you put into getting ready for your date, while osamu was in the car crying.
“i love you,” you whisper, and osamu shakes his head. you should be yelling at him, calling him pathetic. you should feel betrayed, for his lack of trust in you. “i love you.”
you say it again and again, over and over, until osamu is slumped in your arms, body trembling in your embrace. you whisper it into his ear, against his forehead, against his lips.
you repeat it, as your fingers rake through his hair, soothing him. you say it as a promise, as an oath.
“i see you, osamu. i understand how you feel, and we will get through it together. we will stand together, and i will not leave you behind.”
and you whisper that three-word-promise many, many more times, against his temples, along his arms and fingers, and into his hair.
when you spend your entire life believing that you could never be good enough, it’s nearly impossible to simply change that for someone who claims to believe otherwise.
but nearly impossible isn’t impossible, and you are determined to reveal the worth you know osamu holds, so that he may see it too.
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mygscafe · 3 years ago
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my reactions while reading the hq one-shot brace yourselves you’ve been warned
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THE MAN THE LEGEND KUROO TETSUROUUU no like its so fitting that he’s the one to bring everyone together he’s always been about connecting people and look at my boy just casually traveling the world and being like 😏 hey 😏 wanna play some volleyball 😏 he’s not taking no for an answer and he knows exactly what to say to each player and they’re just eating outta the palm of his hand!! and i will never get over how fking fine this man looks in a suit!!!\
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this panel just makes me laugh so much ik it’s meant for them to look intimidating but this to me is true himbo energy and sakusa with the little lint roller giving me cleaning levi vibes jsdfbkjds
Keep reading
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mygscafe · 3 years ago
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꒰ PLAYING DEAD IN FRONT OF THEIR KID ꒱
↳ note ⨾ repost! ↳ genre ⨾ dad!au, fluff! ↳ feat ⨾ bokuto, atsumu & suna
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ʚ BOKUTO ɞ
"ah," your husband wails, clutching his chest in mock agony. the small child in front of his bursts into a fit of giggles at their father’s grunts and groans of pain. "tell mama i love her," bokuto then says hoarsely, taking a dramatic breath before collapsing onto the living room floor.
your child howls with laughter, waddling over to their father lying peacefully on the floor.
"what's going on here?" you ask, stepping into the the room scattered with toys when the only voice you hear is your child's.
"i beat papa," your toddler grins, pointing a chubby finger at your husband.
"did you now?" you smirk, raising an eyebrow. "you beat the love of my life?"
the child nods blankly, looking over their shoulder, awaiting for bokuto's big reappearance of 'I'M ALIVE!' to thus restart the game they were playing. only, it doesn't come as soon as they expect.
"papa?" your child furrows their brows, crouching down to gently pat his shoulder.
"how hard 'ya hit him?" you stifle the smile on your face at your kid's ministrations.
"not that hawd," they sniffle as their gentle pats turn to more forceful hits on their father's shoulder.
before you know it, your child snaps their head to you and their eyes brim with tears. "papa," they croak, outstretching their arms, reaching for your comfort.
bokuto's fatherly instincts kick in at the sound of your child's cries and he's quick to sit up, engulfing them in his arms. "hey, hey, i'm here! don't worry!"
"ko," you scold, watching as your child's sniffles look over at bokuto in recognition. "we decided it was a five second dead time!"
"'m sorry, mama," bokuto pouts at you as the child clings to the fabric of his shirt, burrowing his head against his chest. "i went too far."
"don't apologize to me. apologize them for the trauma."
"you okay bud?" bokuto looks down at his chest. "papa didn't mean to make y'cry."
the toddler nods, chewing on their lip. "mhm. 'want ice-cweam."
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ʚ ATSUMU ɞ
"how do you even own so many nerf guns," osamu mutters, hanging the plastic toy over his shoulder as he glances around the empty hall.
"sh," atsumu hushes his twin, looking around the vicinity. "the kid's gonna hear 'ya."
"i can't believe you do this everyday."
"it's fun for the both of us."
"what, to feed your equal levels of competitiveness? yeah, i can see that."
your toddler hides in the corner of the play room, stifling their giggles at the sound of their father and uncle speaking in hushed voices not very far away. there's a small nerf gun tucked in their stomach, at a perfect angle towards the entrance of the room.
your husband and brother in law were done for in this game.
just as the kid suspected, atsumu presses against the outside wall of the room, carefully peaking around it, to give the room a one over. "the kid's too small, i can't even tell if they're in here."
"i think i heard something in the kitchen. they're probably in there." osamu nudges his head in the direction of ahead of them.
atsumu nods at his brother, moving to walk across the entrance of the play room. your child shrieks as he appears from their hiding spot, firing the foam bullets at their father. osamu stands of the side in slight amusement as atsumu jerks his body back and forth at the impact from the bullets.
when the child's bullets run out, atsumu collapses to the ground. your child jumps up and down in glee, giggling to themselves. "did 'ya see that uncle 'samu?"
"sure did. he's done for." osamu smiles easily at the toddler.
the kid waddles over to your atsumu and pokes his shoulder. "dada, i won."
at no response, the toddler scrunches their nose up. "daaa-daaa, get up."
"maybe, it was one too many bullets," osamu murmurs, crossing his arms.
"huh?"
osamu sucks in his lips to keep from snorting at the blank expression on your child's face.
"i can take his pulse, yeah?"
"what's a purse?"
"pulse, not purse," osamu corrects as he kneels down, holding two fingers to atsumu's neck. "'m sorry, little one."
"wha-?" eyes widen to saucers and he looks down at the face down volleyball setter.
then it all hits like a storm.
"dadaaa!!" your child wails, punching little fists at his back.
"hey, kid. it's alright, let's just-" when osamu's hand motions toward atsumu, the child quickly slaps it away.
"don't touch him!" the child cries, hitting their head against their father's back, gripping at his t-shirt.
"'tsum, stop being a prick. you're kid's scared."
"you started it!" atsumu's head quickly perks up in panic and he spins his body around to hold the child against his chest. "dada's here, kid." atsumu scowls at his twin. "you're the one who checked my pulse!"
after your child's sniffles die down, they stare seriously at their father.
"don't tell mama, ok?" atsumu mumbles in worry, knowing how you'd bite his ear if you found out.
"pwick." is all your toddler responds with a frown.
atsumu groans. now he's got two things to worry about. whether or not your kid tells you about what happened or the new vocabulary word they learned.
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ʚ SUNA ɞ
"so, you just let them hit you with a pillow and they're happy?" atsumu raises an eyebrow as his friend's child giggles in happiness.
"basically." suna shrugs.
atsumu watches in slight confusion as suna and your child lay on the long sofa. the child lifts a plush pillow in their arms, throwing it at their father's head and when suna pretends to knock out, begins laughing maniacally.
"watching them must be easy."
"they're pretty fussy when it comes to food but yeah, it's a breeze. y/n deals with all the hard work of the morning."
"like what?"
"waking them up, getting them dressed. if y/n weren't around, this kid would sleep three days straight probably."
"wonder where they get that from."
"speaking of, i'm getting pretty tired." suna yawns, looking over at the toddler. "you? is it nap time?"
the child shakes their head, continuing their repetitive ministrations.
it goes on a few more times until suna pretends to knock out and just...doesn't lift his head again.
"pa," the child whines impatiently.
"darn, your own dad got tired of 'ya." atsumu snickers, looking at his passed out friend on the couch.
with a huff, the toddler climbs into their father's lap, leaning against his chest.
"whatcha gonna do? punch him? start a tantrum? i know my monster does that- oh, you're asleep."
atsumu sits awkwardly as he watches the sleeping pair. he snorts at the sight.
"what am i supposed to do, see myself out? some hosts y'all're."
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mygscafe · 3 years ago
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character: miya osamu words: 5,700+ tags: friends to business partners to lovers, defining the relationship. notes: written for the xoxo, valentine collab!
collab masterlist 💘
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when you call out a final "thank you, come again!" to the last couple of the day, the sky outside is dark and the wind is chilly.
"thank you," the girl responds as she burrows into her coat.
smiling at them as they make their way to the door, you try to not let your annoyance show on your face. they'd overstayed their welcome by a good thirty minutes, and you were itching to slide the door shut and start closing the restaurant.
this year's valentine's day was insane. when you'd opened onigiri miya over three years ago, the occasion wasn't terrible each time it arrived. but then atsumu had to go drag his ass into this stall each time he had a date ("i know the owner," he'd say as he wiggled his eyebrows at the poor, defenseless girl he'd conned into thinking he was worth the time of day this time around), which gave the restaurant a lot of traction.
which was great, don't get it wrong. it was just hard.
because outside of you and osamu, you'd only had one additional employee (who you'd let clock out once there were only around three tables left being occupied), it was a double edged sword.
valentine's day meant profit, but it also meant sheer exhaustion.
"we hope you enjoyed your food," you tell the couple, holding the door open for them.
"it was delicious," the guy says, slowing down to wait for (presumably) his girlfriend when she realizes she left her bouquet of flowers on the table. you try not to let your impatience show. "we're coming back again soon!"
"glad to hear it!" osamu calls from behind the counter, waving patiently.
finally, finally they leave, and you slide the door shut so hard it shakes. swinging the sign from open to closed, you turn around, and your eyes meet your partner's tired (yet wholly satisfied) gaze from behind the counter.
"we did it," you breathe, and the smiles that overtake your faces are bright and wide. it's the buzzing feeling of success—something you'd both toiled days and nights for, and it finally manages to settle after this ridiculously busy valentine's day.
you're already doing the math in your head, but you're interrupted when osamu rounds the counter and practically slams into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hoisting you up with a laugh.
"we did it!" he repeats, and bouncing you in his hold.
"osamu!" you shriek, gently smacking his shoulders as he laughs. when he sets you down, you stumble out of his hug with a laugh. he catches you before you fall, grabbing onto your arm.
"sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. he sets you upright and takes off his cap, and you snort at the shape his hair has taken.
"gross," you say with a bright smile, and he runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in weird directions.
"i don't think i took it off the whole day," he explains, which you totally understand. you're surprised he's still standing, given that you've been yelling orders at him all day.
you swipe a pack of tissues from the bar and dab it on his hairline and forehead, and he laughs.
"is that gonna help?" he asks, grinning.
"maybe," you say, ribbing the napkins all over his hair this time. he ducks out of your ministrations and you chuck the damp tissues at a nearby bin as he fits his cap back on his head.
he holds up his hands, palms facing you. "for today."
you smack your palms against his, enjoying the sting. "we did it!" you say, and suddenly feel your body give out. "oh my god."
osamu catches you before you fall. "whoa! you okay?"
"i am," you breathe, "so tired."
he smiles, a little apologetically. "we should really hire more people huh?"
"my legs say yes," you respond as he leads you to the bar. "but our profit margins say no."
"maybe part-timers? for busy days like valentine's, or leading up to christmas."
you push yourself up to sit on a bar stool. "you know what? that's actually a great idea."
"i do have them from time to time."
you smile up at him, patting his broad chest with a friendly hand. "good job today, osamu."
"good job to you," he says kindly. "i stayed mostly in one place. you were running around from the kitchen to the front. carrying orders, too."
"which reminds me," you say, reaching up and stretching your back. "do we have any more food left?"
"maybe some umeboshis?" when you make a face, he continues, "but since i know you don't like those, i can whip up some tuna mayos." he leans on the bar, chest broad in front of you. "why? were you taking some home?"
"planned to," you say with a smile.
"ah." he nods. "how many did you want?"
"four's fine."
"that's a lot. sharing it with someone?" he clears his throat. "it's valentine's day, after all."
you roll your eyes. "when do i ever have plans for valentine's day?" you say with a wry smile. "oh, wait, did you? i can close up on my own if you have a date!"
he shakes his head. "when do i ever have plans for valentine's day?" he lobbies back with a grin.
he rounds the bar, hitting the overhead light switch to kill the lights over the tables as he goes, and he's illuminated by the bar lighting as he washes his hands. "you sure you want four? you can eat some here, if you want. i was going to make some for myself."
"that's actually not a bad idea," you say thoughtfully, turning the stool and leaning your elbows on the counter. "then i'll have two, please."
osamu nods and plucks his phone from his pocket. he presses a few buttons before a soft, familiar song flows out through the speakers.
you perk up. "hey. i know this song."
he smiles at you as he preps his ingredients, plastic gloves crinkling as he goes. "of course you do. you played this every night whenever we would work on our paper."
you relax, catching your chin with your hand and tapping your fingers on the varnished wood. halfway through the song, you say, "we've come such a long way, haven't we?"
"hmm," osamu says, placing tuna flakes and mayo into a metal bowl.
"we're restaurant owners. doesn't that sound crazy to you?"
his spoon makes hollow, metallic clangs as it mixes the food together, hitting the sides of the bowl. "a little, yeah."
you watch him work. "did you ever think we'd be successful?"
his hands pause in his mixing, and the music stops briefly, before fading into another familiar track, one that you've also taken a liking to back in your college days.
osamu's eyes meet yours. "no," he says honestly, and looks back down. "did you?"
you adjust to catch your face in both hands, both of your elbows pressed against the counter. you watch him work, effortless and natural at his craft.
"no," you admit. "but... i guess it was fun. a lot more fun than i ever thought it would be." you shrug. "i think i didn't... i dunno, maybe i never stopped working on it because it was fun. you know?"
he flashes you a half-grin. "i do."
you smile at him. "i'm glad we became thesis partners."
osamu slides a plate with a freshly made tuna mayo onigiri in front of you. "here you go."
"we have to thank atsumu, too," you say, picking up the warm rice ball. "we had such a great turn out because of him."
your partner makes a face. "we give him enough free food as it is."
"do we have to give him food to thank him?"
"you think he's not goin' to ask for free food when we thank him?"
you consider this. "good point." you finally bite into the onigiri and can't close your mouth. it's hotter on the inside. "oh my go'," you say, mouth stuffed. "you makhe tha' besht onigi-ih's ev-ah."
"don't talk with your mouth full," he chastises gently, slipping off one plastic glove before handing you a tissue.
"itsh ho'." you cover your mouth with it to be polite, but he simply rolls his eyes.
"it's fresh," he reminds you, slipping on his glove again and prepping the others. he makes three total, one more for you and two for him, and while he plates you hop off the bar stool and jog to the beer fridge, pilfering two chilled ones from the back of the shelf.
"sit with me," you tell him when you climb back up on your stool, and he flashes you a grateful smile.
he slips off his apron and drapes it over the bar as he rounds it again. "thanks," he says, taking the beer can you hold out to him.
you open it in unison, the hiss resounding in the air.
"cheers to a good day," you tell him, and he gently bumps his can to yours.
"and to a valentine's day i don't spend alone, for once," he says. "finally, something that'll get my ma off my back."
you laugh. "does she still think we're one of those 'will they, won't they' couples?"
it was a title that you and osamu had unknowingly carried for years. you went from casual college friends to attached-at-the-hip thesis partners to on-paper-legally-inseparable business partners. your friends have called you out on it several times before, and you've told them time and again that osamu merely shrugs at the mention. it's not a big deal.
but he says, "she's not the only one," cryptically, and you don't wanna think about that, so instead, you roll your eyes and shove him in reflex.
he chuckles before he digs into his food, and you bite into your second onigiri. his phone plays familiar music, the food he made you is delicious, and the smile on your face is easy.
conversation with him is fluid and smooth; you've known this for a while now, back when you've been thesis partners in university—it's half the reason why working with him on your final paper was virtually painless. but now, when it's just the two of you, with no customers or orders or sales reports or inventory checklists to be the focal point of your discussion, you realize that conversation with osamu miya isn't just easy.
it's natural.
talking to him is as effortless as breathing.
the pads of your fingers press below your ear, holding your head steady as you turn to him, laughing at a joke he'd mentioned (something about atsumu and hair dye and the wrong shade of blond that nearly made the setter cry). his voice is so soothing that you don't even realize that your eyes are sliding shut.
"you fallin' asleep on me?" he says softly, and you jerk awake.
"sorry," you say, trying to hold back a yawn. "i guess i was more tired than i thought i was." you reach forward and tap osamu's phone. "shit. it's almost one in the morning."
"you should go on home," he tells you, your plates clinking together as he stacks them. "i can clean up here."
"no way," you protest. you reach out your hand to grip his shoulder, your arm outstretched. "no. i'll clean out here. you can handle the dishes, and any other kitchen thing."
"you sure?"
"yeah. faster if it's the two of us, anyway."
you blink yourself awake and hop off the stool, rounding the bar to swipe a rag and a spray bottle. osamu gets to work quickly, too, and you're putting away your mop just as he closes the door to the kitchen with a twist of his key.
"locked out back?" you ask, opening the employee locker, stowed away in one corner of the tiny back office you had to store any important documents and packaging paraphernalia.
"yeah. did you leave anything in the kitchen?"
"don't think so." you toss him his jacket, placed beneath yours on the hook behind the office door.
"locked the safe?"
"yep," you say, locking the office door from the inside before pulling it shut. "we just need to lock the front and we're good."
"did you bring a car?" osamu asks, crouching down to secure the huge padlock that kept the storefront gate from being yanked up.
"no, unfortunately."
"okay. i'll drive you."
"what? osamu, no," you say, because he lives a few blocks away, in a small one-bedroom apartment with street parking that housed the onigiri miya delivery truck, and you live the next city over in a house your aunt is letting you stay at with dirt cheap rent.
it was no problem getting to work via train, as it only took ten minutes, but by car it would take thirty, which meant osamu would drive a total of an hour just to see you home.
he straightens, and you can see that his face isn't amused. "it's almost two a.m., _____. there's no way i'd let you go home on your own."
despite your better judgment, the corner of your lip twitches into a soft smile. "seriously, 'samu, i can just take a taxi—"
"no buts," he says with finality. "i'd rather you sleep over than—"
your eyes and his widen at the same time.
"hey," osamu says, walking out of the shower. he's dressed in a plain white shirt and boxers, and he's wiping his hair with a towel. "you sure you're okay out here?"
"yeah," you say from your spot on the futon set on the floor, his furniture pressed to the walls of his tiny apartment. "thanks for letting me crash, by the way."
"no problem," he says with a smile. "kinda reminds me of our college days."
the simple statement triggers a specific set of memories. an annoying set of memories, placed in a box that was never touched but always looked upon.
why would you sleep over in the same place? and you're not a thing?
are you sure you're just thesis partners? there's no way you guys are just friends.
you're starting a business? together? oh my god. that's kinda like marriage, don't you think?
your brain fogs up, and now, you want nothing more than to figure out this puzzle. it's been over five years of seeing osamu miya's face nearly everyday. you saw him more than your own mother, facetime calls involved.
"hey, come here," you tell him, shimmying from under the duvet and pulling your soles together so they meet. you pat the spot in front of you. he dutifully sits down, cross-legged, and you take a breath. "i'm going to ask you something weird."
he's unbothered, like he always has been. "shoot."
you sniffle and clear your throat and stall, but the silence is begging to be filled. "why didn't we ever date?" you ask, softly, nervously.
he gently sets down his towel. "i don't know," he responds, but it's not careless. it's genuine, what he's telling you. he truly doesn't know.
you slip your hands beneath the duvet so he can't see your hands grip your ankle. you know what you're asking, where this is going. but maybe it's a box you should've unpacked years ago.
"have you ever thought about it?" you ask.
he doesn't falter. "of course i have," he says, giving you a glance before looking down at the duvet. "have you?"
you want to say, more than once. more than several occasions, but the answer comes out in one breath, instead. "yeah. of course."
the air is still, quiet.
osamu speaks suddenly, softly, "why'd you ask?"
"i don't know. i think... i feel like," you say, trying to your words as carefully as you can, "any person who would want to have... any sort of relationship with me—they'd have to deal with you constantly being there. i know my friends constantly wonder what this thing between us is, and i don't know what to tell them. but all i know is that you'll be there, even when they aren't, or when they leave. and i think... i think i would dump them sooner than i'd deny any friendship with you."
"is that a problem?" he asks.
you're honest. "it's not my problem," you say.
it takes him a long moment to respond, which is okay. osamu won't run away from you. instead, you watch a bead of moisture slowly collect on a chunk of hair sticking out over the side of his head.
he finally speaks. "i get it. i mean, i understand that... you know, people won't understand us. but you're too important a person in my life for me to even try and risk it. you're my business partner, but you're not just that. you're also my friend—one of my best ones, and for me, one relationship isn't more important than the other, and it's—what if... what if i risk it, and it doesn't work out, what do we do? what do i do?"
you nod, trying your best to understand, but that's easy when you feel the same way. slowly, you reach over to pick up his towel and dab at the drop of water that's about to fall. "yeah. i get it. i really do."
"there's a 'but' in there, somewhere." he sighs, taking the towel from your hand. "thanks."
you smile at him, hands dropping. "how'd you know?"
"you act like i haven't known you for years," he says with a small smile of his own, reaching forward to brush your hair away. it's a nice gesture, a familiar one. "'but'...?"
this is it. the make or break moment. weirdly, you don't feel scared, just nervous. maybe you have too much faith in osamu, maybe you have too much faith in yourself. but he's never let you down when it came to absolutely anything, and you know in your heart that this is another one of those things.
"but maybe," you breathe, "but maybe it's worth a try." your eyes slowly climb up to catch his gaze. "do you want to give it a try?"
his palm, still cold from the dampness of his towel, cups your cheek. "you should know by now," he murmurs, "that i would do anything for you."
before you slept, you texted your employee that work was called off for that day. you posted an announcement on social media. osamu took care of rescheduling deliveries.
and you crawled into his bed that night.
you've always known osamu ran warm—this is not the first time you slept in the same bed together, although it is the first time on purpose—so he was a comfortable bed partner in the chilly months of february, and so waking up next to him was an inexplicable comfort.
"good morning," he greets, voice rough.
you groan against the brightness of the room.
"i have a spare toothbrush in the second drawer under the sink," he says.
you grunt.
"go, before you drool on my pillows."
you whine and roll out of bed. you shuffle to the bathroom and find the toothbrush as he says, and you rip the hotel packaging off. when you're leaning down to spit, osamu reaches for his own.
"need to pee," you tell him, and he nods, sleepily, shutting the door while you do your business. he comes back in when you open the door, and move to let him take over the sink. you sit at your side of the bed, blinking yourself awake.
"go back to sleep," he says, standing in front of you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "i'll make breakfast."
you reach out to hold his hand. "osamu, wait."
he stands still.
"can we talk about last night?" you ask.
he sits next to you. "what about?"
it takes you a while to form words. "just... i love you, osamu."
his fingers lace through yours.
"i do. i really, truly do. and i wanted to let you know." you sigh. "i don't... it's impossible not to. it's hard to explain. it doesn't feel like... it's not just anything. it's important. you're so important, and it—"
"you know i love you, too, right?" he says, and you twist your head to take in his sincere eyes and earnest words. "i mean, full disclosure, i i liked you, too, back then. but now it's different. now there's—"
"more at stake?" you ask him with a dry smile.
he lets out a breath. "yeah."
you kind of always known this, but hearing it from him feels like a revelation. but it's not about that right now. it's not about your ego, or feeling flattered, or surprised. "what changed?"
"you..." he runs his free hand through his hair. "like i said, you're one of the most important people in the world to me, and it's not just because of the restaurant. you're more than a friend to me, more than a business partner. and i felt like... if i told you—you're too big of a deal for me to reduce you to a girl i just like. because you're more than that to me."
you laugh, and it's a little shaky. "you're giving me way too much credit here."
"but you understand what i'm trying to say, right? it's not just love either. i can't find the words to explain it."
"yeah." you nod. "yeah. you're... it's different. for you. for us. it's not that simple."
"yeah." he squeezes your hand. "i can't... i love you so much. that's—i think that's what's scaring me. it's that we do this, and one of us just... stops."
"i know," you tell him, relief coating your words when you realize he understands, truly understands, what this is all about. "i know."
"i don't know what i would do if i lost you," he admits. "and i don't—i mean... the business will be fine. we're fair people. but not having you in my life... i don't know if i can handle that."
silence settles over you, your hand in his, and you watch the sunlight peeking through the slats of his window climb up on the wall of his room.
"i don't know either, you know," you say finally.
"hm?"
"if i lost you," you respond, voice trembling in the slightest. "i don't know if i can handle it either."
he lets out a big sigh and squeezes your hand. "should that be enough to stop us, though?" he asks softly, inching closer. "would it be... is that going to be a disservice to both of us?"
you sigh and lean your head on his shoulder.
you decide to try.
that day after valentine's is the day you do. just try and see what it's like to be in each other's company with the prospect of something romantic looming overhead. an after-valentine's-day valentine's day, if you will.
osamu orders a beautiful bouquet of flowers which you accept with a surprised thank you (truly, you had no idea that he was going to go this far), and cooks american steak for lunch. you offer to buy dessert and set the table, which is his basically his kotatsu.
(you asked why not dinner, and rolls his eyes and says that you need to go home to your own place. you don't take offense to this because, yeah, he has a point, you can't keep sleeping over. plus, he can drive you, which is a nice bonus.)
and it's easier than you expected, either because you're so used to osamu that there's barely any discomfort or unfamiliarity, or because he actually has a chance.
this actually has a chance.
talking to osamu about it is actually kind of funny, too. what about this, what about that, how do we deal with this, what do we say when that happens. it's a testament to osamu's thoughtfulness, surely, and you appreciate the straightforward honesty, but part of you wants to rip your hair out because he's being too meticulous.
but another part of you wants to grab him by the collar and shake him and tell him to shut up.
the steak is delicious (of course), and the cake you ordered from a nearby bakery was so satisfying osamu asked for the name and saved the number to his phone. you both decide to turn on a movie while you snuggle beneath the kotatsu's duvet, backs against the couch.
you're not even paying attention to the movie. your eyes and lazily watching your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over the swell beneath your thumb.
"i want to know what it's like to kiss you," osamu says suddenly, and you turn to look up at him.
he's staring intently at your hands.
he's been like this all day. i want to know where i can touch you, i want to know where i can hold you, i want to know what you don't want people to see, i want to know what you want people to see.
you're honest when you answer. it's not as if he held back on grabbing your arm or hugging you before, it's not as if he never held your hand, as if people haven't seen them together, as if you'd ever minded being seen together.
but this is different. he knows it is, you know it is.
"why?" you ask.
"i'm curious."
"and?"
"i want to know if..." he lets out a breath, and when he takes too long, you speak.
"you want to know if you want me."
he purses his lips in thought. "something like that."
"how flattering."
"no, wait, no, i—" he runs his hand through his hair. "i want to know what you like," he says. "i want to know how to kiss you. if i can do that in the way you like."
"oh, i see. are you scared you'll disappoint?" you tease.
he chuckles. "no, but thanks for bringing that up." he turns to you fully, resting his arm on the seat of the couch. "i haven't made out with anyone since college."
"same," you groan. "i guess we'll both be disappointments."
"i don't think you'll disappoint."
"you're just saying that because you want to kiss me."
he laughs, loud and full. "well. i'm not hiding it." he pushes your hair back. "so can i kiss you now?"
"if you must," you sigh dramatically, but you can't help the smile creeping into your expression. his hands find your face and you have to hold back laughter, osamu quietly chiding you through chuckles, guiding your mouth to his.
your lips meet, and a tightness you had no idea rested in your chest releases, as if pulled out by the breath he takes when he breathes against your face.
when you pull away, the look in his eyes is no longer joking.
"i want this to work," he says firmly. "i want to make this work. i think we can make this work."
"wait." you grip one of his wrists. "wait, osamu, i need to tell you something."
he quiets, waits for you to speak.
"i love you," you say. "this isn't—i'm not kidding. you're so important to me. and i know i keep saying this but i want you to understand, and—and i... i think i love you enough to be crazy enough to think that i could be in love with you, too." you swallow. "does that—does that make sense?"
"yeah," he breathes. "yeah. it does."
"i don't want to regret this," you say desperately. "i don't want to. that's the last thing i want. the last thing i want is for this to be a mistake."
"then it won't be," he tells you, equally as frantic. "it won't. we've—we're more than just this. we need to—we need to trust ourselves to handle this. because i never let myself want you, and now that i can, i don't—please don't tell me i can't."
the way his hands drift down to your waist to pull your closer makes your heart race.
maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the earnestness of his words, but you press yourself to kiss him again. it's a lot more raw, this kiss, honest and wanting, and somehow, it also feels long overdue, maybe. you don't know. all you know is that this is new, but not unwelcome.
you realize that you want to feel this. you want to feel this. you want to want him.
you start to let yourself, too.
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bonus:
he walks you to your door when he drives you home.
"i'll see you tomorrow," he tells you when you finally unlock your door.
"okay," you say, and your breath materializes in front of you. when you look up at him, he presses a soft kiss to your mouth.
should it bother you how comfortable you are with kissing osamu? because it's a reflex now, after hours of doing it, to lean into his kiss. his hands, warm from being housed in his pockets, press against your cheeks.
"i love you," he tells you when you pull away. you know it's a reminder in this weird new path you'd both decided to tread, because it doesn't mean what you know you want it to mean, but it feels good to hear all the same.
"i love you, too," you say. "can you call me when you get home?"
he smirks. "miss me already?"
you decide to bite. "yeah. so?"
he laughs despite the pink in his cheeks. "okay. i'll call."
before he turns to leave, you kiss him one last time. "i love you, osamu," you whisper. "i mean it."
"this is easier than i thought it would be," he admits.
"is that a good thing?"
"of course." he kisses you another time. "i love you, too. now go, it's way too cold out here."
"i'll see you tomorrow," you tell him, slipping inside with a wave, and watching him walk back to the truck with his hands in his pockets.
thirty-five minutes later, your phone buzzes as you lay on the couch.
i miss you already.
you laugh as you type back your reply. that was fast.
his reply is instantaneous. i just realized that we actually had a valentine's date this year.
you and me?
your phone buzzes. separately and together.
it buzzes again. i should've let you sleep over.
you're word vomiting, you respond. soon after, there's another buzz, but this time it's a call.
"i'm being weird about this, aren't i?" is the first thing osamu says when you click the green button.
"it's actually pretty entertaining," you tell him, chuckling. "it's fun watching you squirm."
"shut up. it just hit me, how weird this is."
"how weird what is?"
"that i'm starting to like you."
"oh, wow. thanks."
"no, i mean—" he huffs. "i thought it would come, but i didn't think it would come this fast, you know?"
"yeah. but also, gross."
"oh my god, shut up. i'm trying to be serious."
you laugh. "okay, fine. seriously, then. what are you thinking?"
"i think we can do this," he breathes. "i think we can actually do this."
you can't fight the smile making its way on your face. "you said that earlier today, too."
"yeah. yeah, i mean, i did, but—i mean, this is..." he lets out a deep breath. "i guess i'm just thinking that we can... i don't know how to navigate a romantic relationship where everything but the 'romantic' part is already there. but i think i can figure that out."
"you know what i thought to myself, earlier?" you say. "i thought to myself that i should also let myself feel more than friendship with you. and i realized that i think i've been holding back all this time."
"maybe we both have," he says.
"yeah," you whisper. "maybe. maybe this is actually going to work. maybe we'll be fine." you pause. "maybe we'll be happy."
he's quiet for a second. "i need to see you. i want to talk to you about this in person."
you smile a little at that. "okay. we can talk after—"
"let's close the restaurant again tomorrow."
"absolutely not," you say firmly.
"come on! please?"
"no. we already closed today. we're not closing again tomorrow."
"if i call you 'baby,' are you gonna fold?"
you bark out a laugh. "no. but i'd like to see you try and call me 'baby.' could be cute."
"i honestly can't tell if you're joking or flirting."
"give it a try and see what door opens."
"baby, please," he says sincerely. "let's close tomorrow and talk."
feeling jolts through you, and you bite your lip. you're quiet long enough to consider, but still, you say, "no."
"dammit," he groans.
you laugh again. "osamu, we can talk after work."
"but i want to talk about this as soon as possible."
"wow, are you actually being impatient?" you tease, sitting up. "have i been talking to atsumu all this time?"
"we always talk after work," he whines, ignoring your jibe. "but that's for normal things. this is different, this is important." you can hear a rustle on his end, and you can imagine him run a hand through his hair in frustration. "should've let you stay. shouldn't have dropped you home. shouldn't have driven off."
this is new, you think. you've never known osamu to be taken over by frustration. "osamu, calm down. i can sleep over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better."
"no, it—" he stops. "wait, can i sleep over tonight?"
"excuse me?"
"please, baby," he says, and it sounds so natural coming out of his mouth that you nearly balk. "can i sleep over tonight?"
he's caught you off guard, and you don't have enough defenses to withstand him calling you baby a second time. so you fold. "fine." you clear your throat. "fine."
"great. i love you. i'll see you in thirty." he hangs up.
you stare at your reflection on the dark screen of your phone, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of his arrival—which was such a foreign feeling it made you nervous.
osamu was coming over, which a few weeks ago—days ago, even—wasn't a big deal. but now it is, and you don't know what to do with that feeling.
he was right, though. it was easier than you'd thought it would be.
you let out a breath and smile.
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mygscafe · 3 years ago
Text
atsumu is staring at his phone in his hand, with his eyebrows furrowed. a small, frustrated groan leaves his lips, and closes the app. you still haven’t liked the pictures.
suna and osamu are snickering at him from the other side of the room. his twin has his instagram page opened, and there are two new pictures; shirtless, posing in front of a mirror. the boys can barely contain their laughter — it’s just too funny seeing atsumu check his notifications every two minutes.
“oy, ‘tsumu,” osamu calls out to him. “you should have just sent it to ‘em.”
“oh, shut up,” he says quickly, a small blush creeping up on his neck. he forgot other people do see his posts, who are not you. 
“is this your way of flirting?” rintaro asks, looking at his phone, at the pictures atsumu posted. 
“what if it is?” the blonde looks at him with squinted eyes. he doesn’t really understand why this didn’t work out as he wanted. 
suna types on his phone for a few seconds, then puts it away. he sent you a message, which you read giggling.
suna: hey, like atsumu’s post it’s important ty
a few minutes later, the setter’s eyes light up from seeing a notification.
“they saw it!” he exclaims, and takes this as a success. 
5K notes · View notes
mygscafe · 3 years ago
Text
Haikyuubu Chapter 79: The National Team’s Photo Shoot
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2K notes · View notes
mygscafe · 4 years ago
Note
NOT THE ASHAMED AUHDHDJDJEJDJ
ITS HINATA SAYING HES DATING YN WHILE YN OS CONFUSED W EVERYTHING
EXACTLY . DUMBASSES TO LVOERS EVRYWHERE
i was playing around with the wording of hinata’s last text to sakusa. i was going to write “i dont want to bother yn” but hinata not realizing that “i dont want to make it a big deal” sounds like he’s ashamed of yn hits the right amount of hurt
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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PAPER RINGS
this is my entry for the please don't say you love me collab! please check out other writers' works for even more heart break <3
character/s: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader
genre/s: angst
warning/s: none
gwen’s notes 🤍: thank you so much for 2.5k consider this my gift to you masochists, not proofread
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
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you were never brave enough to profess your love to kuroo. so you played it off as a lighthearted promise, a half-meant joke as you sprawled across his bed one hot humid saturday afternoon. you were in your second year in nekoma, kuroo in his third. the memory stuck out to the back of your mind like a sore thumb several years after it happened.
“say, tetsu,” you begin, marching your feet up the cold concrete of the wall where his bed is pressed against until you could no longer reach. “have you ever pictured yourself getting married,” you grunt, stretching your legs in stark focus, distracting yourself from the dull hammering in your chest.
“mhm,” he absentmindedly hums, eyes scanning over the reading material spread across his lap. his glasses sit haphazardly on the bridge of his nose. “you’re gonna hurt yourself, idiot,” he mumbles, not even sparing you a glance.
you pout but lower yourself back onto the bed all the same, rolling on your stomach and propping your elbows on the mattress. you cup your face into your palm, steering your head to the side while you admired his features; no one else at school besides you and kenma and maybe a handful of their teammates has ever seen him with glasses because he quote unquote had a reputation to keep according to him. the thought of seeing him in a light no one else did tugs a smile on your lips. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his lips pursed to a pout which he subconsciously moves side to side like he follows the syllables as he's reading.
“why are you staring at me like that, you creep,” he accuses, startling you as he slams the book close.
“i just find it funny how you don’t like wearing glasses at school,” you reason, not missing a beat even as you feel heat creep up your cheeks and your heart do little backflips.
he grins at you, stretching his arms above his head, and winks, or at least tried. you swallow thickly but don't say anything. your eyes trail downwards in an attempt to shy away from his mischievous gaze. “well how else do you suppose i steal all the girls at school, kitten?” he muses, pushing himself off his desk chair. you watch as it rolls across the floor, hitting the edge of his study table.
he saunters over to the bed, lightly shoving the back of his hand against your shoulder, “move,” and plops next to you with a sigh, looking straight up at the ceiling. he reaches his arm over as if he’s trying to touch it and a beat of silence follows.
you hold your breath while you absentmindedly stare at his face; the curve between his knitted eyebrows and his nose, the specks of gold in his honeyed eyes, the slightest dent on his left cheek which no one else ever seems to point out but when he smiled, god he smiled so beautifully, it's all you could think about. the little moles scattered on his neck down to his prominent collarbones, you could trace constellations in his skin. you wonder what his lips would taste like on yours until his eyes dart onto you, taking you aback but you don’t budge, more like you couldn’t. you know he knows how you’ve been staring and he looks you in the eyes as if he’s trying to find answers to a question he doesn’t even know. his face is inches from yours and the faint smell of the perfume you picked out for him floods your senses.
“i don’t know,” he sighs, finally breaking the unbearable tension which engulfed his room.
you blink back your shock, heaving in a sharp breath as you push yourself off the mattress and sit opposite to him, back leaning against the wall. “what?” you ask as you settle in your spot once more.
“i don’t think i’m marriage material, per se,” he mulls over. “i don’t want to be like my parents, you know?” he says it casually but you know him better than he even knows himself. in that moment you know he’s scared and you want nothing more than to pull him into your embrace and kiss him silly because he will never become like his parents—you and him will never become like his parents.
because you’re his best friend, you remind yourself. nothing more and you shouldn’t be getting ahead of yourself.
“if we’re not married by 25, let’s just marry each other,” you blurt out, not really letting your brain process the words before they leave your mouth, but before you can scramble to take your words and shove them back up your throat, kuroo laughs.
“shouldn’t you propose to me first or something?”
you bite your tongue, a frown etches on your face as you fight butterflies fluttering in your stomach so you snatch the nearest pillow and fling it at kuroo.
he catches it effortlessly with one hand and tucks it beneath his head, a soft fond smile replacing his ever scheming smirk.
“i don’t see why not, besides the fact that you’re just proposing to me without so much as a paper ring.”
“it’s because i’m trying to give you ideas. i want a proposal under a sea of sky lanterns, just me and him—” him, you say as if you can picture yourself with anyone else but kuroo, “—and a candle lit dinner with my favorite food-”
“you mean chicken wings,” he snickers. he catches another pillow midair.
“i don’t want a big diamond ring or an extravagant wedding, i actually prefer like a really rare and pretty crystal on a dainty ring,” you ramble jokingly but unbeknownst to you, kuroo listens intently and takes mental notes. he almost sees you in slow motion, your excessive hand gestures and the way you look up to recall your words. “and, and i want a cottagecore wedding, lots of tulle, maybe i can wear a corset-”
“don’t ever leave my side, yn.”
you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at him. “what?” you manage to choke out, forcing a fake chuckle in hopes of escaping the tension you built yet again.
“don’t ever leave me,” he repeats, softer this time. he doesn’t try to play it off with his usual smirk, or try to evade the situation with a witty remark. his eyes are pleading and vulnerable, his voice quiet like he’s saying a prayer. you find yourself crumbling before him.
“okay, i promise.”
kuroo is no longer the cute older boy next door who helps you with your homework only after he teases and annoys you aplenty. he’s not the sweaty and stinky volleyball captain, as you called him, who engulfs you in a hug after practice just because he knows how much you hate it. he’s not the same dork who can’t talk to other girls to save his life, trips over his sentences, spurts out random chemistry pickup lines, and blushes like a tomato. he wears a different perfume now and wears his glasses to school. his dimple is no longer yours and his best kept secret because she makes him smile more often.
but the constellations on his skin and the gold in his eyes remains the same. so does your promise.
what exactly did you promise to him that day; to never leave, to never leave his side? even as it kills you, feels like you are no longer welcome next to him, like you’re only filling up a seat for her until she arrives.
you never leave his side even if it means watching him fall in love with someone else. that is until he pushes you, no shoves you away. your promise is no longer needed.
“why would you do that!?”
“she was out of line, tetsu. keep your girlfriend in check, will you?” you huff, turning your back onto him as you fold your arms above your chest.
“she told me you started it,” he argues, leaning onto the nearest thing and gripping it so harshly his knuckles turn white.
“is it my word against hers? please, you weren’t there. you didn’t see how fucking vile and evil that scheming bitch-”
“don’t fucking start,” he grits through his teeth and you scoff disbelievingly. “come on, you know how much she means to me.”
“and what do i mean to you, hm?” your voice trembles. you snap your head to glare at him through your tears.
“are you serious right now?” he stares at your back incredulously, running his rough palm through his face in frustration. “are you actually making me choose between you and her?” he laughs humorlessly.
a stream of tears fall from your eyes as you squeeze them shut. “just this once let me be selfish, tetsu. so yeah, i guess that’s what’s happening right now.”
the longer the silence stretches between you two, the louder you hear your heart pound in your chest. and if you listen closely— “that’s so fucking low, even for you.” —you can hear it break.
you kept your promise all those years and kuroo is yet to fulfill his.
time wears down everything, the good and the bad. you and kuroo went your separate ways without so much as a proper good bye. he went on to pursue his career like he always said he would while you surprisingly decided to study abroad.
time wore down the promises, the polaroid pictures stuffed away in a box on a shelf too tall to reach, the little gifts and knick knacks, his old high school jersey you haven’t touched in years because you’re sure it still smells like the perfume you picked out for him.
and when your eyes lock on to his, in a bustling train station no less, as if you’re always subconsciously searching for each other in crowded places, you come to realize time also wore down the hate, the resentment, the betrayal, the hurt.
your legs, growing with a mind of their own, walk toward him each step bigger than the last, until you're running and jumping into his arms. he meets you halfway and catches you midair in a suffocating embrace, burying his face into the crook of your neck and whispering i miss yous and im sorrys and how are yous like a mantra.
he thumbs away at your tears when you finally pull away, the biggest smile on both your faces.
“how have you been,” he breathes, taking in your appearance and you do the same. “you look good,” he adds. your heart sinks at the familiar smirk he shows.
“you don’t look half-bad,” you joke, making him roll his eyes. as laughter dies down to soft hums, you quietly add, “i’ve been good, tetsu. how are you?”
it’s his heart’s turn to clench when he hears your saccharine voice say his name so endearingly. “good, good... actually can i take you out to dinner soon? i have something i have to tell you.”
skip over the awkward small talk and catching up over dinner, you poke fun at the last argument you both had. you were young and stupid, but it doesn't mean you know better now. still, all is well like the stars are aligned and he tells you he needs to show you one more thing.
“you’re not taking me out into the middle of nowhere to murder me for ruining your high school relationship are you?” you jokingly say, peering out the window to watch the trees and lamp posts be blurred into one, the moon follows you with its gentle glow. it illuminates your features so beautifully, kuroo thinks.
he pulls up and opens the trunk of his car, ushering you out. he hands you a piece of paper folded into squares. it rustles as he unravels it and your breath hitches, tears quickly threaten to spill. kuroo knows it’s not a sea of lights, but it doesn’t matter anyway.
a lantern, one for each of you. he remembers.
you clear your throat, shaking your head in an attempt to scatter your thoughts and light the lanterns with him. sitting back on to the trunk to watch them as they float away, dancing around each other’s lights and it reminds you of you and him.
you feel him staring at you, inches away. your heart is thumping against your chest and the world stills when you finally get the courage to look each other in the eyes, searching each for answers and pleading for something you both can’t admit to yourselves out loud.
“tetsu, i love you.”
“i’m getting married.”
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@mirakeul @realityisabitch-blr @erinoikawa @haji-bby @seijohoe @szeonn @banananaa4 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @thezebra12 @iwaizumisunshine @stffychn @vvvselfindulgence @devilgirlcrybabiey @ebiharachan @coco96 @knmsapplepi @strawberryzos @iwasunshine @bidisaster1307 @jesssobs @asaitashi @duhsies @devilsbooksworld @littlemochi @mikeystomanjacket @noitsmrleorio @agasheeee @singularly-gifted-witch @crystal-lilac
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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hurts like hell
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characters: sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader
eris’ notes: ah angst, my beloved.
warnings: uh maybe kinda toxic behavior? omi isn’t the best in this but he’s still my baby so
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sakusa kiyoomi isn’t an easy person to love.
he’s meticulous and blunt and cold. he needs things to be a certain way—his daily schedule should never be interrupted, his things never misplaced, his time never straying. he needs constant routine, constant consistency. and maybe that’s his fatal flaw, because if one thing goes wrong, then he would just prefer to throw it all away.
you just never thought you’d be one of things he’d discard once it didn’t go his way.
“what?” you ask once you can finally force your mouth open, hand trembling at your side and tears threatening your lash line.
kiyoomi stares at you, and his eyes are unreadable, as they normally are. but they’ve never been that way to you. you’ve always been able to decipher and depict what your boyfriend was thinking, just by a simple glance in his eyes. but now, now it’s like you’re looking through one way glass. like you’re looking at a stranger.
“i’m leaving,” he repeats calmly, normally—like he’s just stating the weather—as he tears his eyes away to continue to pack his duffel bag. he folds his clothes just right, smooths them out before placing them inside. “i’ll come get the rest of my things after practice.”
“what?” you ask again, and watch as that annoyed little crease crinkles between kiyoomi’s eyebrows. “i-i mean, seriously. stop playing, omi. this isn’t funny. did tsumu tell you this would be a good prank? haha, okay. it’s over now. you can stop pretending to pack.”
forcing a smile never felt so hard, even as a tear escapes the side of your eye, rolling down your quickly heating up cheek. you reach a hand towards your boyfriend, and for the first time in four years, he flinches away from you.
“i don’t do pranks, yn. if you know me at all, you know that.”
and you do. but, honestly, it was your last hope, your last hail mary, that maybe he was just kidding about leaving. your hand falls back to your side, only for you to grip the end of your shirt—his, actually, since you stole it out of the dresser this morning—trying to keep it somewhat together. but when sakusa zips up his bag and flings it over his shoulder, turning to look at you with an emotion so cold you swear you feel the temperature drop, you find that no amount of clinging will hold you together.
“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t focus and everything just keeps getting fucked up and you trying to help is only making it worse. i need space and i need time and i’m so fucking tired of things changing. i’m leaving, yn. like i said, i’ll come get the rest of my things after practice.”
his gaze flickers to your shirt, and for a moment you swear you see water on his lash line, but then he snaps his head down and walks out of the bedroom. your bedroom, where you slept with kiyoomi every other night. shared lazy kisses, talked about the future. marriage, getting a bigger place, maybe even kids. and now he’s just.. walking away.
“kiyoomi,” you beg, finally letting the tears fall, pulling on his arm in a weak attempt to stop him as he makes his way to the front door. he reaches for the doorknob, pulls it open, but before he can walk out, you tug him hard enough to turn to face you. “kiyoomi i-i love you. please, don’t do this to me. to us. i can’t lose you. i can’t.”
there’s a second, just a sliver of time, that you see the old kiyoomi shining behind those dark eyes, a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. but it’s gone once he shrugs your hands off of him, turning to take the first step out of the door.
“i’m sorry.”
you’re not sure how long you stand there after he pulls out of the driveway, but you eventually shut the door. sinking against it, you finally let it all out. sobbing, banging your fists against the front door and screaming for kiyoomi to come back, promising you’ll do anything, begging any and every god above to make it happen.
what you don’t see is kiyoomi parked just around the corner in his car, knuckles white around the wheel as he screams just the same, cursing himself for having to hurt you like that, crying so hard he can’t breathe. not caring that he’s dirtying his only clean mask, because he was supposed to go buy more with you today before practice. he sits in his car just around the corner when he realizes how much of an idiot he is.
and for the first time in his entire life, sakusa thinks fuck practice as he flips the ignition and gets out of his car, sprinting back as fast as he can because like hell he can just leave you. what was he thinking. he opens the door to still find you on the floor, and instead of banging on hardwood you start banging on that familiar chest as he pulls you into his arms.
sakusa kiyoomi isn’t an easy person to love. he’s meticulous and blunt and cold. he needs things to be a certain way and that’s—that’s fine. because it may be hard to love him sometimes, but it hurts like hell to watch him leave. and you refuse to let him go again.
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reblogs appreciated!
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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my heart is buried in venice
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characters: tsukishima kei x gn!reader
eris’ notes: this is for @ohajime song fic collab and i have to say i absolutely love it so ahhhhhhhh (plus it’s my first time ever participating in something like this so lowkey nervous lmao). this turned out way longer than i intended so haha, oopsie.
warnings: hurt/comfort, fighting, cursing (but dw it works out in the end)
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love wasn't something tsukishima had ever really given much thought to. it was never something ideally essential to him, never something he truly needed and depended on like other people. sure, he thought someday he might meet someone, might do all that romantic shit and maybe eventually get married. and he even gave it a chance, once.
but one nasty heartbreak was enough to sever the bond of love and tsukishima kei for good, and he was done.
that is, until he met you.
yamaguchi—the fucking traitor—was the one who introduced the two of you. you were in a few of his classes at college and you just hit it off perfectly, so he invited you to tag along for his weekly lunch with tsukki. at this point, you'd heard all about yamaguchi's blond best friend, and to say you were looking forward to it was an understatement.
you'd had your fair share of cocky, smartass men who were closed off from the world and weren't too keen on meeting another. but tadashi really wanted you to go, so you did. and oh boy, tsukki was a hell of a lot more attractive than the pictures tadashi had shown you.
lunch went by smoothly—apart from tsukishima nearly biting your head off when you called him 'tsukki', apparantly that's only reserved for tadashi—and your new friend dropped the bombshell just as you all get up to leave.
"oh! and you better get used to seeing them, tsukki. they're applying to be the team manager for the frogs in a few weeks for the new season!"
yes, thank you tadashi for giving tsukishima another reason to throw you a glare that sent shivers through every fiber of your entire being. the blond just scoffed, brushing past you with a sneer as he mumbled, "just stay the hell outta my way," before walking out of the restaurant.
you still laugh when you think about that day, how cold tsukishima seemed to be, how much of a jerk he acted like to everyone. it was like his heart and soul were buried off somewhere completely separate from his body, six feet under everything else. now, though, now tsukki is much more inviting to you.
"i'm not watching this movie again," he grumbles as he sits down beside you on his couch, bowl of popcorn in hand.
"but you love this movie," you tease, snuggling over into his side and snatching a few pieces of popcorn. "dinosaurs are your thing, tsukki. this movie is like your lifeblood."
the blond tsks, rolling his eyes as you press play despite his interjections. "all i see is dinosaurs everyday, coming home only for you to force me to watch jurassic park seems more like torture than relaxation."
it's been a few years since that first day the two of you met. you did become manager for the sendai frogs for the remainder of tsukki's playing with them. after graduation, you went on to do a different type of managing in a big company, and tsukki went on to work at the museum. you'd fully expected your ties with yamaguchi and tsukishima to end there, but the three of you still meet every weekend for lunch in that same little restaurant. (though tsukki always complains about it, but that's just in his nature).
and now five years down the line and you and tsukki are, well. you're not particularly sure what you are. friends isn't enough but together seems too much, though you veer into the latter more and more every passing day. it hurts your head to think about so you don’t, but you really do want to know.
the opening scene is just starting when tsukishima feels your head drop to his shoulder, both of your arms wrapping around one of his as you stare forward at the screen. when he started letting you get like this with him, he doesn’t remember. and when you touching him, even just barely, started making his chest hurt, he isn’t sure either.
he stares at you a bit longer, watches as your eyes flicker all across the screen, looks at that soft smile donning your perfect lips. his thoughts are far louder than the movie as he presses his cheek to the crown of your head, trying to will the fluttering out of his stupid stomach. he knows what this feeling is, but he really, really doesn’t want to be feeling it.
the movie ends and the credits finally roll, causing tsukki to raise his head and roll his neck. “see, terrible. as always. i’m never watching it again,” he declares, then pauses when he doesn’t get a response from you.
sure enough, you’ve fallen asleep. he should expect it by now, since this is what you always do. normally, though, he shakes you awake, tells you the movie’s over, and helps you get your things to leave. this time, for whatever godforsaken reason, he just can’t seem to do that.
it takes a few seconds of awkward readjustments, but he manages to get you into his arms to carry you, your face pressed to his collarbone. he has you halfway down the hall when he feels you stir awake, your hand gripping onto his shirt as you startle.
“kei, wha—“
“just go back to sleep, idiot,” tsukishima mumbles, ignoring how you’re looking up at him with bleary eyes. once he’s in his bedroom he lays you on the bed, pulling the comforter over you and reaching to grab one of his pillows. “i’ll take the couch. goodnight.”
you blame your next words on your half-asleep state, really. grabbing onto tsukki’s sleeve, you make him stop. when he turns to look at you, his chest aches again. someone rubbing their eyes with a dopey little smile shouldn’t be so damn cute.
“what, no goodnight kiss?”
yeah, you blame the half-asleep state.
“what,” kei snaps, yanking his arm away from your weak grip and taking a step back. and honestly, he’s not sure why he’s angry. he isn’t even really angry. those words, teasing or not, are something he’s secretly hoped for for years. but now that he’s heard them, watched as they slipped out of that mouth he adores so much..
he isn’t even really angry, he’s just completely and utterly scared.
you blink up at your best friend, unaware of what’s suddenly gotten into him, until it all comes crashing down on you at once. “oh, oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your eyes again before you stand up from the bed. “just forget i said that, i was like half asleep.”
“i think you should leave.”
“what?” you blink again, and you seriously think you’re starting to sound like a broken record. “kei, c’mon. it’s not even a big deal. besides, we’re already kind of a thing so why is it—“
“who the fuck gave you that idea?” tsukishima shouts, and you’ve never ever had him raise his voice at you before. but he does now, and it causes you to flinch back half a step. “who the hell told you we’re anything like that? why would you even fucking think that?”
you gape at him, eyes wide and weary, and then they narrow because what the fuck. “are you being serious right now? oh, i dunno, maybe the fact that we were just cuddling on your fucking couch! and how we do that every other night. and how we go on literal fucking dates, kei! what the hell, ‘who gave you that idea?’ you! you did, you asshole.”
“it’s not my fault you cling to me! you’re like a fucking leech, what the hell else am i supposed to do?” he retorts, throwing his hands up in the air, and suddenly you aren’t looking at the tsukki you love at all. you’re staring at the man he was five years ago, and you never thought it would hurt so bad.
“do you love me? do you have any feelings for me at all?” you ask, voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone it held before. you sound lowly, defeated. like you’re watching your whole life crumble down around you.
and to be fair, it sort of feels that way.
“just say—say what you mean, kei,” you beg after a moment of silence, cheeks heating up and eyes burning at the brim. “tell me truth. or tell me we’re through. because i can’t live like this anymore.”
you give him a few seconds and you watch—hoping, praying—that he’ll say something, anything. hell, you’d take the fucking rejection at this point as long as it meant you could get some form of clarity. but the clock ticks by and all you get is silence, an averted gaze, and a slowly breaking heart.
“okay,” you nod, clearing your throat. “okay, i’ll just go.”
you leave tsukishima standing in the middle of his bedroom as you gather your things together, and you can’t tell, but he’s never hurt so bad. what you’re asking for—his love, his heart—he’s not sure he even has that to give. it’s been so long and he’s pushed that away so far that it’s nearly unfathomable.
but the thought of you walking away, leaving his apartment without your joyful ‘see ya kei~’. not coming back to wrap around his arm and force him to watch dinosaur movies again. no more dinners at that fancy restaurant on the corner where you always steal a bite from his plate. no missing sweaters that you swear you didn’t steal but he knows you did. no more you, at all.
he’d rather give you the empty shell of himself, than have you leave forever.
instantly, he’s running through his small apartment in a haste trying to stop you before you go. because damnit, what was he thinking? he can’t lose you. he rounds the corner into the living room just as you’re cracking open the apartment door and he all but leaps to reach over you to slam it back shut.
you stagger to stop yourself, turning on your heel to glare up at him. “tsukishima, what the hell are you—“
what the hell are you doing, is what you were going to say, but those words never have a chance to finish leaving your lips as the man you’ve been in love with for years cups your face and kisses you. when he pulls away, he’s breathing heavy, and you’re staring up dumbstruck, as he leans to press your foreheads together, glasses a tad uneven on his nose.
“there’s your goodnight kiss,” he breathes, looking directly into your eyes, and yeah. you can see all the words he’s trying to say without him even having to mutter a single syllable of them.
you drop your bag to your feet and slide an arm around tsukki’s neck, tugging him impossibly closer as you lean in again. “how about another?” and he supplies.
tsukishima would agree that perhaps his heart had been buried somewhere separate from his body—maybe even venice, the place you’ve always told him you’ve dreamed to visit. but now he thinks it resides with you.
his heart resides in his home.
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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falling back into you
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characters: matsukawa issei x gn!reader
summary: when you and issei split, you both had an agreement: move on and avoid each other at all costs. it wasn’t that you ended on bad terms or you didn’t love each other, it’s more so that you did. time seemed to heal all wounds, but that love? well, it seems even time can’t sever that.
eris’ notes: i have been sitting on this for a while. maybe i’m projecting, who cares. i just love mattsun so much.
warnings: it’s exes to lovers so there will be angst but we’re gonna pull through dw, mentions of alcohol/drunk calling
listen to: remember that night?
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it was supposed to be easy.
i’m moving to tokyo. i’m staying here. that was the plan. when things ended, one of you would root yourself and the other would leave to grow. there was no interference that way, no chance of accidentally bumping into each other in the supermarket reaching for the same carton of eggs or looking over and seeing that you’re next to him at a stoplight.
avoiding each other was supposed to be easy. you both ensured it to be, took every precaution you could think of, really. so how could he walk back into your life just the same?
it’s a tuesday.
you’re in the little café on the corner that’s hidden between the bookstore and boutique. it’s never busy, the line is never long. the café owner’s cat always twists around your ankles when you walk through the door. they know your order by memory now, since you come here so much. you sit in the corner booth like you always do, scrolling through your phone as you waste a few minutes of your morning.
you check some messages, swipe through photos on social media, read some article about some bullshit you don’t care about just to sate your boredom. the bell of the door jingles, the sound of someone shoving on the jammed door because it always gets stuck. you don’t look up, just keep in your own little world, take a sip from your drink, stand up from your chair so you can get ready to leave.
it’s a tuesday, when you hear a voice you’ve done your very best to forget.
“two mocha frappes please, hold the whip.”
slowly, you force your eyes up, looking across the little shop until they land on the owner of that voice you know so well. the voice that used to make snarky remarks into your ear in public just to make you laugh. the voice that would always sound so lax in the mornings as you ate your slightly burnt breakfast. the voice that whispered out ‘i love you’s over and over along your jaw before you went to sleep every night.
the voice of your ex, who should quite frankly be anywhere but here.
it’s been months now, almost a year actually, and you’ve been doing so good. you’ve stopped letting his name accidentally slip through your lips while talking with your friends. you’ve stopped stalking through his social medias, even unfollowed him on all of them. you’ve rearranged your apartment so that it wouldn’t remind you of how he always sat on the left cushion of the love seat. you’ve started buying a new brand of toothpaste so your mouth wouldn’t taste the same type of mint as his.
you’ve been doing so good in forgetting about your ex boyfriend, and yet as you see him here now, it feels like you’re bumping into him after a high school volleyball game all over again, fingers fumbling to hold the sign with his number on it. that warmth settles in your belly, and it isn’t from the baked good you just ordered.
“issei,” you say before you can stop yourself, because a part of you needs to know if it’s actually him. deep down you do, but some portion of your brain is trying to convince you he just looks similar, has the same hair, stands the same way.
but no, as he turns around you realize you’d recognize those dark eyes anywhere.
“yn,” he replies, in the same tone as you, blinking for a moment. it seems he’s facing the same internal battle, the same war about whether you’re really who he thinks you are too. “you still come here?”
“every tuesday and thursday,” you answer, taking a step forward as you grab your drink off the table. “i like—“
“how oddly quiet it is in the middle of the city,” mattsun finishes for you, edges of his lips turning up into what you know is a ghost of the smile he always gave to you. “yeah.”
“yeah.” you nod, and for some reason your cheeks are heating up. you turn your head away, pretend to mess with the straw in your drink, anything to settle your slowly building nerves. because this shouldn’t be happening. he shouldn’t be here. he should be off in tokyo doing god knows what.
“oh, right. actually, iwaizumi’s coming back from america this week so he kinda suggested we all come back home to meet up. reminisce a little, you know?”
shit, you’d said that out loud.
“o-oh! that’s—that’s great! yeah, oikawa had told me he was coming back and invited me out to dinner, i just didn’t know that uhm, you’d be there. it seems he failed to mention that part,” you smile, biting the inside of your cheek.
your shoulders are tense and you might bust your cup any second from how hard you’re gripping it, but you can’t help it. this whole thing is just so crazy for you, and it wasn’t supposed to happen.
“if me coming is a problem then i can tell them i can’t make it. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything around me,” issei offers immediately, because of course he does, that’s how he always is.
“i could never be uncomfortable around you.”
the words come out before you can stop them, and you want nothing more than to scream and curl into a ball. you aren’t lying, but that almost makes the matter worse. the way mattsun’s eyes soften at you, just a bit, makes you want to crawl under the table. you shouldn’t have a flutter in your chest. you shouldn’t.
“good,” he smiles, sideways and charming, just like how you remembered it. he opens his mouth to speak again, your eyes darting to it for just a second, but is cut off by the barista calling his name for his order.
he quickly excuses himself to walk over and grab the two coffees he ordered and it dons on you now that he has one more than necessary. and it really isn’t any of your business, but.
“meeting someone?” you ask, pinching and twisting the straw in your own drink, trying to sound indifferent. like you don’t care. because you shouldn’t care. he isn’t your boyfriend. and yet.
“just makki. the idiot’s waiting for me at the train station already. you know how he is about stuff like that.”
that answer shouldn’t make you as happy as it does.
“well i hope you two have fun then! i guess i’ll see you friday? for dinner?” you make your way to the door, yanking on it to open it as mattsun follows you. you step out onto the sidewalk, and it gets just a tad bit louder.
“yep,” he nods, that same little grin tugging at his lips. “i guess i’ll see you then.”
this is the moment when the two of you are supposed to walk away, maybe give a little wave and just carry on with your day. because this isn’t anything special. it’s bumping into an ex, a normal awkward occurrence for most people. but the only thing awkward right now is that you really don’t want to watch him walk away again.
“right, well,” issei is the one to break the silent stare. and as he turns, you swear you see a tint of pink dusting the tops of his ears. “see you.”
you nod, give him a little smile, and turn on your heel to walk in the direction opposite of the train station. you dig your phone out of your pocket to immediately call oikawa, because he deserves the ass chewing of a lifetime. and when you look back—just to glance over your shoulder to be safe, not because you wanted one last look at your ex, no way—your heart skips when you see issei smiling after you, not having moved a single step.
he’s looking at you just like he used to, and you aren’t sure whether you hate it or not.
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it’s thursday.
two days after running into matsukawa issei in the café you know he remembers you always coming to. two days after the one person you’ve ever fallen in love with waltzed back into your life as if it was nothing. two days after you cried to oikawa on the phone for three hours because you can’t have dinner with him, no way, it hurts so bad. two days after you started driving yourself crazy over a man you swore you were over.
two days of pure hell.
you’re laying on your couch now, staying up much too late than you should be for tonight. some shitty romcom is playing, and you boo when they kiss, telling the lead actress she definitely deserves better.
you’ve just finished throwing a handful of popcorn at the television screen when your phone starts ringing. you pick it up, frowning at the unknown number on the screen, but deciding to answer it anyways, why not.
you immediately wish you hadn’t.
“yn.”
it’s issei, you can tell automatically, his voice has been haunting you nonstop since tuesday. what you don’t recognize, however, is the odd tone of his words, the slightest slur on the ends.
“issei?” you ask, sitting up right on the couch, grabbing the remote and muting the tv. “how’d you get my number?”
you’d gotten a new one after… yeah, oikawa had recommended it, said it would be easier on you. and it was. you didn’t have to worry about having to fight to not give in to a come back call. that pressure wasn’t there.
but now.
“i snooped through makki’s phone,” he laughs, no, giggles, and that just sounds so wrong coming from him. there’s a shuffle on the other end of the line, like someone stumbling, then he’s talking again. “what’re you doin’? are y’home?”
“why?” you question, picking at the edge of your t-shirt. you can hear it now, the tilt of drunkenness in his tone, the jarbled syllables.
“can i come over? miss you s’much.”
your stomach churns, ties in sickly thick knots and a frog crawls up into your throat. this isn’t fair, he shouldn’t be allowed to do this to you. you—you had a deal! keep your distance, ignore each other, go on with your own lives. those were the rules.
so why the hell is he breaking them.
“you’re drunk,” you state, mostly as a way to convince yourself that he doesn’t mean this. that you’ll just get another call in the morning from a raspy hangover voice apologizing for the bullshit he said last night.
that you shouldn’t get your hopes up.
“aw, don’t sound so irritated, yn. you used t’love it when i drunk called you,” issei laughs into the other end of the line, causing tears to form along the edge of your waterline.
because he’s right, you did used to love it. you absolutely adored when issei would go out to the bar with some of the boys and call you halfway into the night, telling you how much he loved you and how he wished you were there with him before he got his phone snatched away by one of the others. you found it cute then, endearing even.
now it just hurts.
“sei,” you mumble, trying to force your voice to stay steady, hugging your knees to your chest. “please don’t do this to me.”
“d’what?” he asks, and you can practically see that furrow in his brow, the dip in the middle of his forehead that always chisels its way in when he gets confused. “i jus’ miss you. wanted to tell you. what did i do wrong?”
everything, you want to say. nothing, your heart tries to reason. “leave,” your mouth supplies without your approval.
the other end of the line goes silent for a few long moments. you almost think maybe he’s forgotten he’s on call, maybe he passed out drunk off his ass somewhere, maybe he hung up and you didn’t hear the beep.
you’re about to check and hang up when, “i regret that every day of my life,” issei whispers into the receiver, and you can’t stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks now. “if i could go back, i wouldn’t have ever left. never woulda gave up on us. woulda loved you forever.”
you cry silently as you listen, phone pressed to your ear as you bury your face in your knees. it’s hard to deal with this right now, and none of this is fair.
“i think i always will,” mattsun continues, and there’s a thump, like he’s plopped down somewhere, “ll’always love you, y’know.”
a sob catches in your throat as you listen to his confession, and what little restraint you had holding yourself back is gone, what partial wall remained up for matsukawa issei has crumbled. and oddly enough, you feel like a kid again, hearing issei admit his feelings for you over a phone call like this after graduation.
most of all, what little part of you was trying to convince yourself you were over issei in the slightest, is completely and utterly dissipated.
“issei, i—“
there’s a shout on the other end of the phone, something along the lines of who the hell are you calling? from who you register to be makki before there’s a shuffle and three beeps, signaling the call ending. you choke on another sob as you press the phone to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut.
“i love you too.
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it’s friday.
you didn’t get any sleep last night. a recap of your short phone call with mattsun replayed in your head over and over all night long, and does even now, as you get ready for your small reunion dinner. mattsun never called you back this morning. you think maybe he just forgot it all in his drunken state.
and you’re not entirely sure which is worse: him forgetting or him regretting. because in your mind those are the only two options.
you think about it then, as you finish getting dressed. then, as you drive to the restaurant oikawa texted you the directions too. then, as you sit down next to him and wait for the others to arrive. and slowly but surely the rest of your old friends show up. you hug them all, iwaizumi giving you a peck on the cheek, makki swaying the two of you side to side. but then mattsun arrives and, well.
“hey,” he whispers, placing his hand on the back of your ribs. you feel something akin to fire bloom in their wake. you offer a hushed ‘hi’ in return, swallowing as he leans in closer. “can we talk?”
you look at him, narrowing your eyes. you’ve always hated when he used that tone, still do in fact, and he registers that as soon as he sees the pouty look. slinging an arm around your shoulder to hide the way he whispers into your ear.
“don’t worry, i just need to get some things off my chest. after dinner, okay?”
he pulls away, offers you a lopsided grin, and takes his seat. you spend the rest of the night seated across from your ex boyfriend, who apparently can’t keep his eyes off you. keeps looking to you to see if you laugh at his jokes, eyes you as you hum around a spoonful of dessert, stares at you as you talk about all you’ve been up to lately.
dinner ends and the five of you stand outside. it’s colder than you thought it would be, and you can’t deny the goosebumps spreading across your arms. you jump a little when a jacket is placed around your shoulders, two warm hands resting for just a moment before pulling back.
“well, i’m gonna head back to the hotel, you coming?” makki announces, jerking his head at mattsun.
the man beside you shakes his head, waving his friend off. “nah, i’m gonna stay and catch up with yn a little more.”
and that gets the two of you whistles from your three friends, only cutting off when you throw glares in their directions and threaten to punch them into next week. your threat is enough for them to all disperse, waving as they walk off and promise to get together again soon, leaving just you and issei together on the sidewalk.
“so,” he clears his throat, breaking the tension as he walks beside you, taking you to your car. “about last night.”
“don’t worry about it,” you immediately dismiss, smiling with a shake of your head. “we all say stupid things when we’re drunk. it’s no big deal.”
he stops instantly, and you have to turn back to look at him. he’s staring at you like you’ve just said something totally offensive, as if he can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. your heart tugs at that, remembering how he’d give you those looks constantly when you were together.
“i see a year hasn’t helped you become any less stupid,” he huffs, stepping forward and gripping the front of the jacket he placed over your shoulders, tugging you to him. “i meant every word of what i said, yn. drunk or not, i’m still in love with you. that’s never going to change.”
this time, as you look up into those dark eyes that you’ve missed so much, your chest aches for a different reason. it takes you a moment, a second to convince yourself that yeah, issei is telling you the truth. and when it finally fully hits you, you can’t help the idiotically wide smile that stretches across your face.
“never?” you ask, placing your hands on top of mattsun’s pressing impossibly closer to him.
“never,” he confirms, lips slowly mirroring your smile, eyes softening more and more by the second, dully blazing in the dim street lamp glow.
“then let’s go home,” you say, laughing against issei’s lips as he leans in for a kiss, then continues to pepper them all across your face before pulling you flush to his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight.
“yeah,” he murmurs, leaning to steal another kiss again, “let’s.”
it was supposed to be easy.
i’m moving to tokyo. i’m staying here. that was the plan. when things ended, one of you would root yourself and the other would leave to grow. the avoidance and leaving and forgetting was all supposed to be easy.
and yet the only easy thing, was falling back into each other.
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reblogs appreciated!
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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guarded AU: masterlist
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Keep reading
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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what the fuck..... most opressed athlete in this sport is the american skater that gets overscored at least 20 points in every competition because *checks notes* figure skating is homosexual lgbtq dominated?
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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Hello,
Use read more’s on your long fics.
Goodbye <3
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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after midnight (m) || masterlist
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title: after midnight pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader prompt: jeon jungkook only likes seeing you after midnight. warnings: unprotected explicit smut, cursing, dirty/inappropriate talk, mentions of sex word count: 39.2k status: completed
01 - crepuscule
02 - dawn 
03 - midday
04 - dusk
05 - tonight
06 - midnight
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mygscafe · 4 years ago
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spellbound:
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summary: fate sure had a way with screwing with you, especially when it put oikawa tooru into your life as your rival and the #1 thorn in your side. it was another thing altogether when the two of you are paired together for a potions project, and manage to get detention for two months...together. for being one of the most accomplished students at hogwarts, it's a mystery how you can't succeed at dodging oikawa
pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader
word count: 14.8k (ahhhh sorry!!!!)
genres + themes: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, a bit of funny stuff, hogwarts au!
warnings: some swearing, innuendos, kuroo being a conniving little shit™, iwaizumi being amazing, and makki being a lovely bastard™
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It seemed like everywhere you looked, there was some little clue that hinted at destiny’s writings, a prequel, maybe, to the fate that awaited you at every turn. Of course, said clues only showed up if you paid enough attention, but the first contradiction to this was when you boarded the Hogwarts Express.
It had been a pleasant morning by all means, boarding the train with your best friend (who could almost be considered your brother) Kuroo Tetsurou, as well as waving goodbye to your parents and the muggle life that they had lived. Being eleven years old and finally getting to live the stories that their mothers had always talked about had shot excitement up into their spines, a tingle that never subsided until they sat down in the train compartment. Sun shone through the open panels of the glass, and in some distant part of you, you wondered if you’d ever miss home.
“It was about damn time!” Kuroo had yelled as the train began to move. “We’re finally off to Hogwarts! You and me, living the dream and–”
“Shut up Tetsu.” You had offered in response, hoping that the grin on your face was smug and not excited. You began to lift up your bag, checking for all the school books that were required when two people came bounding down the aisle.
“Hey,” the gray haired boy had greeted, shooting a gentle smile their way. “My name’s Sugawara Koushi, and this is my friend Sawamura Daichi.” At that moment, the boy with dark hair offered a friendly nod. “If you have any extra space in your compartment, would you mind if we sat with you?”
“Of course not.” Kuroo had responded, patting the seats across from him. “The more the merrier.”
“Thank you.” Sawamura had thanked them, before he and Sugawara sat down. “It’s a relief that you managed to find an actually peaceful compartment. Near the back of the train, it’s absolute chaos.”
“Hmm?” You hummed. “Why’s that?”
“Girls.” Sugawara and Sawamura had groaned simultaneously. Taking a pause, Sugawara glanced up at you, before his eyebrows shot upwards. “Shoot, how rude of me. What’s your name?” He had added frantically.
You chuckled good naturedly, as you slid a hand over Kuroo’s shoulder. “No worries Sugawara. I’m Y/L/N Y/N, and this idiot here is Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“Y/N, you’re insulting me too early!” Kuroo teased with his usual smirk. Turning sideways, he began digging through his pockets for the wizarding change he kept somewhere. “Any idea what house you’re going to end up in Sawamura?”
“Daichi is fine.” He added. “I’m hoping for Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff wouldn’t be too bad.”
“Those are good houses.” You added thoughtfully. “I personally want to see where I’ll end up. A little mystery is fun every now and then, right?”
What a mistake it had been to say that.
“Hmmm, I think mystery is overrated when there’s a clearer path ahead.” A voice sounded out from behind you. Turning around, you were met with a boy taller than you by a decent amount, with chocolate brown hair and warm brown eyes. Cute. “Besides, you should have studied enough about the houses if you hadn’t been exposed to them your entire life.”
“And why’s that the case?” You shot back. “It’s not like you’ll always be right about your guesses.”
“Oh, but I am.” The boy drawled. “It’s hilarious how you’re not even able to bring yourself to take a guess.”
You felt yourself stiffen from the tension of it all. Who even was this prick? “Well, I’m not exactly sure how this concerns you…whoever you are, for wanting to do whatever I’d like to.”
The boy’s eyes slipped into a practiced grin, his eyes intent on boring into your own. “I’m Oikawa Tooru.” He had said. “Let’s see if we’ll see more of each other, ‘kay?” He sauntered away, leaving a wink in your direction as he left.
“Who the hell even is that guy?” You grumbled, feeling the anger in your veins simmer down to a low boil. “I said something completely normal and he went and turned it into...whatever that was!”
“Oh, Oikawa is the son of the Head of the Department of International Cooperation. He’s usually been nice the times we’ve talked though.” Sugawara explained.
“I’m not sure what I'd call that.” Kuroo added. “But whatever it is, don’t take it too seriously Y/N, okay?”
“Mhm.” You said, though your mind was working in overdrive. For someone who believed in finding clues to fate everywhere, this seemed less like a clue and more like an entire reality forced upon you. If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was this.
You did not want to be in the same house as Oikawa Tooru.
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“Gryffindor!” The hat had shouted into the Great Hall, the applause deafening as Kuroo joined the houses that their mothers had been in. As he walked, he left an assuring smile in your direction, and a part of you was nervous. What if they were separated?
“Y/L/N, Y/N.” Professor McGonagall eventually called. Taking deep breaths, you settled yourself onto the stool, and let the Sorting Hat cover your eyes.
“Slytherin!” The Hat bellowed, as you gleefully stepped off the stool, and walked towards the Slytherin table who offered the greatest applause that they could. You felt quite homey already, and settled into the seat as you watched the other sortings go by.
“Oikawa, Tooru.” McGonagall had said, as the boy from the train stepped onto the stool, grin blinding. You anxiously tapped your toe and crossed your fingers. Not here, not here, not here, not-
“Slytherin!” The hat had cried out, and another wave of applause overwhelmed the hall as Oikawa took broad, confident steps towards the table, slipping into one of the seats as the girls around him sighed.
Fate was a monster.
And it seemed like you were it’s victim.
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Now in your sixth year, you had adjusted to the eccentricity and wonder that the world had to offer, finding exciting new things at every turn. It was the typical cliche of how the students from the muggle world were far more immersed in the magic culture than the kids that had grown up in it.
However, with the normalcy of magic, you also had gotten used to the blinding annoyance that Oikawa Tooru subjected you to day and night. He was a thorn in your side, and at times, you wondered how he was attractive to anyone, since his personality was absolute garbage.
“I don’t know how you put up with him Iwaizumi.” You sighed as you flipped through the pages of the book you were using to complete Binns’ essay on the Goblin Revolution. “He just gets more and more insufferable every time you see him.”
“I don’t know how I do it either.” He responded. The Gryffindor stalked over to one of the bookshelves, pulling out yet another book for himself to use. “But the library is peaceful without him.” The two of you chuckled lightly as you gestured for him to sit down across you, dipping your quill into the ink just by it.
He was right. Today, more so than usual, the library was a calmer space, with the occasional student scribbling away onto their parchment or collecting a book from the massive archive of shelves. It was cloudy outside, but the shadows casted inside the library felt more comforting than eerie. Pausing to read one of your sentences, you dropped your quill and stretched your arms.
“If only he wasn’t intelligent. Then I’d be able to happily learn in pea–”
“You think I’m intelligent Y/N?” You whipped around to see Oikawa sitting at the table right behind you, shit-eating grin on his face. At your silence, his grin widened further. “Ahhh, it’s okay. I know you’re so in love with me that–”
“Shittykawa, why the hell aren’t you at Quidditch practice?” Iwaizumi groaned. “Seriously, for somebody as motivated as you, you don’t have your priorities straight.”
“But Iwa!” He pouted. “It was canceled, and I was out of things to do.”
“So you decide that it’s a good idea to terrorize unsuspecting people?” You deadpanned. “Creative.”
At this, his grin fell off his face a bit, but the calculating stare was still there. “Hmmm, well, it seems like you need help. After all, getting an E on a Binns’ last essay is nothing short of pitiful. Need a little help dear?”
At this remark, you flushed, glaring at him. “That was because of something that was beyond my control. Now if you don’t mind, Iwaizumi and I have much better things to do then interact with the likes of you.”
“But Y/N.” He cooed, voice dangerously low. “You do think I’m intelligent after all. Why not just admit that I could beat you in any way possible.”
“Hey there,” Kuroo greeted, walking in at just the right moment. The piercing glare of Oikawa’s eyes mellowed down into something a lot more normal. Kuroo turned, looking at the scene in front of him before he pulled up a chair to the table that you sat at. “Oikawa, you are the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. As much as I want to pummel you at the championships, you should probably attend practice.”
“You Gryffindors never pay attention to the updated practice schedule.” Oikawa sighed. “Well thanks for your concern Kuroo, but I don’t have practice today, and needed to get a headstart on reviewing the ingredients for Amortentia.”
“Fucking Amortentia.” You groaned. “It’s going to be fun to brew, but god forbid you end up with someone who doesn’t know how much peppermint you need to add in.”
“On the contrary, Amortentia is by far one of the most fascinating potions.” Oikawa countered. “The fact that you can literally make anyone obsessed with you with just a sip is something amazing.”
“It’s overrated.” You responded. “Obsessive love isn’t real love, and quite honestly, it can be dangerous if the two are confused.”
“Y/N, maybe you’re just not as well read, but–”
“How come you only call me by my first name?” You interrogated. “For someone with high class parents, you’d think you’d never put anyone on the level to call them by their first name.”
That hit a nerve.
Oikawa’s face morphed into something unrecognizable. Hurt?
“My parents have never taught me anything like that.” He said seriously. “And it seems like yours never taught you common decency.” With that, he gathered his books and left the library, an awkward silence in his wake.
“That….” Kuroo began hesitantly. “That was….”
You felt the pit of your stomach drop with the realization of what you had said. You had overstepped your boundaries.
“He’ll get over it.” Iwaizumi’s eyes held a softness as he looked at you. “Don’t get too hung up over it.”
“I….overstepped.” You had managed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Kuroo stared down at the floor, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “Y/N, if you want to apologize, I don’t think that would be a bad idea.”
“I’ll write a note.” You said simply as you grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled your apology. Grabbing your belongings, you waved goodbye to your friends as you headed to the Owlery. You could never manage to reign your pride in enough to apologize in person, but at least for your conscience, this was enough.
The owl soared away gracefully, and you watched it go off into the distance as you left the room. You still had quite a bit to accomplish, and the meeting with Oikawa had reminded you of the advanced Potions lesson that Snape had mentioned he would be teaching tomorrow.
Potions had always been the most complex subject, with the various ingredients creating concoctions with varying effects. Since the minute you had stepped in Hogwarts, you knew that you would enjoy it immensely. However, the coil in your gut seemed to imply one thing.
Whatever Snape was going to assign tomorrow would have some sort of catch.
You had no idea what it could be.
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Oikawa had received your note. At the Slytherin table, he had run a thumb over the hastily written words, but surprisingly never commented on it. Something about his quietness rubbed you the wrong way, and you should have known how it would set the tone for the rest of the day.
Potions class was doubled with the Gryffindors, and you sat next to Kuroo in the hopes that you’d be paired together for whatever it was that Snape was going to assign.
“Your assignment today has been approved by the Ministry of Magic so that way they’ll have more experienced potioneers in the future to mass produce and hopefully improve upon this fairly recent potion.” Snape began.
Right away, everyone who wasn’t paying attention before shot up, interested.
“Now, with the base ingredient of aconite, can anybody tell me what you’re tasked to brew?”
Immediately, you shot your hand up into the air, along with Oikawa, who had previously been drawing on the side of Iwaizumi’s parchment.
Snape quirked his lips upwards, amused at the typical display of rivalry between them. “Mr. Oikawa, Miss. Y/L/N, hands down so the Gryffindors can answer.”
Slowly the two of you dropped your hands from the air, light giggling coming from the girls of the class, mumbling something along the lines of “Oikawa is so dreamy and smart.”
Snape surveyed the room until he landed on someone with spiky white and black hair next to Daichi in the back row.
“That’s Bokuto Koutarou.” Kuroo whispered into your ear. “This will either be extremely good or extremely chaotic.”
“Mr. Bokuto? Any idea of the potion?” Snape asked.
Bokuto had shot up quickly, and nodded. “Uhhhhhh…...Wolfsbane.”
Snape looked a bit shocked himself. “How did you deduce this?”
“Oh,” Bokuto had started excitedly, “Aconite is also referred to as wolfsbane and….I know someone who needs to take the potion.”
“Enlightening.” Snape added blandly. “I have chosen your partner for this project of yours. As you all have probably read, the process of making Wolfsbane potion is not easy and it requires months of diligent brewing. This will count towards your exams at the end of the year, so I suggest you take this seriously.”
Iwaizumi’s hand was gently raised in the air, attracting the attention of Snape almost immediately.
“Mr. Iwaizumi?”
“Professor,” Iwaizumi started, “In the scenario that you have disagreements with your partner, what happens then?”
“The pairings were chosen by the Ministry and myself so that way they could have a better output of successful potions. I’m afraid disagreements will not be tolerated.” Snape responded bluntly. Waving his wand, he tapped on the board at the front of the class. “Above is your pairing and table number. Please join your partner and wait for further instruction.”
Slowing your breath, you cross your fingers to look up and the board and oh. Oh no.
Oikawa.
Out of all the people in the room.
You turned to look at him wide eyed, only to be met with the same expression. Oh no.
Kuroo snickered beside you as he headed towards Iwaizumi, giving him a good natured pat on the back. Lucky bastard.
“Miss. Y/L/N and Mr. Oikawa, please take a seat at Table 14.” Snape called out. “You’ll have plenty more time to stare at each other.
Still shocked and appalled, the two of you walked to Table 14, still in disbelief.
“Please tell me I’m asleep.” Oikawa pleaded. “This is just a nightmare right?”
“I hope so too.” You shivered, sitting on the stool.
Oikawa’s eyes widened even further. “Did you just agree with me?” He whispered. “This is definitely not real.”
“I’ll only agree with you when hell freezes over.” You hissed. “Sit down before Snape kills us!” Oikawa quickly obeyed, sitting down in his shell-shocked state.
“Oh lord, save me. I’ve been paired with a gremlin.” Oikawa smirked. “Well won’t this be interesting?”
“Save me, I’ve been paired with a human leech.”
“Is that the worst you can come up with?” Oikawa teased. “Well, that can be expected from a–”
“Oikawa, care to share your thoughts with the class?” Snape interjected. “Such interesting conversations should not be kept a secret. Especially when in the midst of an important project.”
“Sorry sir.” He apologized sheepishly.
Snape ignored the murmurs. “The ingredients for the potion are rare and expensive, so when I instruct you to go to the cabinet, you will take your time and take only your allotted amount. Wolfsbane specifically takes about two and a half moon cycles to cook, and needs to be spun counterclockwise on the days that is a new moon. The final result should be a blue and smoky substance when placed in a goblet. You will spend the rest of the class gathering and preparing the base of the potion, and will be required to meet up outside of class to work on it’s maintenance.”
With that, Oikawa had soundlessly gotten up, being the first to retrieve the appropriate amount of all the ingredients and returning with full arms, and a concentrated expression.
“Oikawa. I’ll take care of pulverizing and sifting the Black Quicksilver. I think it’d be good for you to work with the aconite, and create the base so we can add the rest.” You said.
Oikawa nodded, as the two of you began the preparations. Staring back at the Black Quicksilver, you began shooting an assortment of spells to pulverize it, then found yourself digging through the cabinets to find a sifter.
Oikawa looked at you puzzled. “Aren’t you a witch? Why do it manually?”
You simply kept sifting, until it was a fine dust. Finer than even magic could achieve. “Because it’s better for me this way.”
Oikawa looked at the dust and nodded as he continued to extract the aconite and pour it’s contents into the cauldron. “Even a dimwit like you seems to be able to show competence in some small instances.” He mumbled something that sounded a lot like “intelligent.”
“You think I’m intelligent?” You immediately added a smirk. Ah, vengeance was always so sweet. “Wow, would you look at that. Looks like you didn’t mean the dimwit part.”
“Don’t let it get to your head Y/N.” He smoothly countered, as he continued to stir the contents of the cauldron counterclockwise. “Go make yourself useful and add the moonwort.”
You grabbed the moonwort, picking the leaves off the stems and gently adding them into the base that Oikawa stirred. Surprisingly, the two of you held down the fort well enough. “Does this work?”
Oikawa, ever so focused, began stirring clockwise, the base simmering to a tealish color as he left it to boil. “Good enough I suppose.”
“Is nothing ever good enough for you?” You had asked offhandedly. This wasn’t the first time you had noticed this. As much as you despised Oikawa for all his pomp and show, he was a very meticulous worker and always stressed about the littlest details. The smallest slip up could easily send him hurtling into the waters of overworking. You’ve heard the stories of Iwaizumi fishing Oikawa out of the library one too many times.
He looked back at you, slightly cautious. “Well I suppose if I were to lower my standards to fit the likes of you, then it may be.” You sigh loudly. That was nothing close to what you expected.
Professor Snape ceased everyone’s progress, and they filed out the door, not bothering to look back upon the Potions classroom. It had certainly gone much better than you had anticipated. Walking up the stairs, you decided that you’d spend your free time outside at the Great Lake. Hearing murmurs a bit ahead of you, you quickly climbed the extra flight of stairs only to see Iwaizumi restraining Oikawa.
“Iwa!” He yelled. “Give it back.”
“No,” Iwaizumi tucked whatever it is that he had been withholding from Oikawa into his pocket. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself Oikawa.”
“But I can’t do what I normally do without it.” The look in Oikawa’s eyes was almost pleading, and you could see Iwaizumi’s sadness etched onto his face.
“Then maybe, you need to take a rest from it.” Iwaizumi suggested. Oikawa tensed, a hard set in his jaw, and suddenly, his wand was whipped out of his pocket and into the air.
“Then it looks like we’re doing this the hard way.” He said gleefully. “Rictusempra.” Iwaizumi dodged the spell immediately, grabbing the wand from his pocket and creating a shield for himself as Oikawa fired jinx after jinx at him.
“Tarantallegra.” You whispered as you aimed at Oikawa. Noticing the beam of light, he side stepped it, glaring at you with a venom you’d never seen from him.
“Y/N. Don’t be nosy and get out of here. This has nothing to do with you.” He deadpanned, his stare, reaching a dangerous level of intensity. Iwaizumi stood on guard but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you standing, arm extended and pointing the wand towards his best friend (however that came to be was beyond you).
“Actually, you attacked him, and seeing how Iwaizumi is my friend, I’m not exactly going to let you walk away scot-free.”
“Y/N, you should probably get out of here.” Iwaizumi added. “Getting in trouble now would only ruin everyone’s chances of participating in the Interhouse Tournament or doing anything useful.”
“No!” Oikawa and you retorted simultaneously. The two of you used every charm, jinx, curse, and countercurse you could until the hallway was filled with nothing more than the shocked eyes of the other students and Iwaizumi trying to calm the two of you down as you shot more and more spells at each other.
This felt good. To be able to put all the frustration that had boiled up through years and years of torment had an almost therapeutic effect. Besides, with every flick of his wand, Oikawa was actively combatting everything you threw at him while effectively attacking you. It was by no means a one sided duel. Students began to crowd the halls as you continued, not letting up in the slightest.
Dodging Oikawa’s stunning spell, you put up yet another shield. “Running out of ideas?” You taunted, sending a disarming spell his way.
Oikawa defended against that almost too easily and shot back a reply of his own. “You’re dueling someone you can’t win against Buttercup.” He shot a body-bind curse at you, which you diffused with a spell of your own.
“Try me then.” You shot yet another spell, until Professor McGonagall thudded through the hall with so much purpose that the students around you felt like they would combust.
“What in the world!” She scolded. “Two sixth years having a duel in the middle of the hallway, disrupting classes, and being a bad example for the younger kids. I didn’t believe it when I heard it. And Iwaizumi!” Iwaizumi blinked fiercely before making eye contact with her. “How come you didn’t do anything to stop this?”
“He did Professor,” You immediately interjected. “It’s just that Oikawa here had no concept of respect and began attacking him. I merely swooped in as a means of self-defense.”
“Is this true?” McGonagall asked Oikawa, glare unwavering.
Some sort of switch flipped in Oikawa, and suddenly he was the all too charming model student that the rest of the school saw him as. “Professor, I acted out of turn when Iwaizumi, my best friend, took something that belonged to me and kept it from me even when I requested it be returned. As for Y/L/N, she cut in without context of the gravity of the situation.”
McGonagall exhaled tensely, looking between the three of them. “Iwaizumi, why did you take whatever it was that you did from Oikawa?”
Iwaizumi’s confidence returned full strength. “I did it for his well-being professor. I personally do not regret my actions one bit.”
“I do hope that you will make better choices in the future Iwaizumi,” She lectured. “As for Y/L/N, and Oikawa, I think I shall leave Professor Snape to deal with you since he is your Head of House. Please, follow me.”
A sense of dread pooled in your stomach of the thought of being subjected to Snape’s punishments. The fact that you could be banned from the magical world or even doing magic by expulsion from Hogwarts made the anxiety that thrummed inside you grow into a larger feeling of all encompassing fear. To think that you could lose everything just because you had witnessed Oikawa’s outburst was almost too much to bear. Turning to Oikawa, you could see his face set in stony impassiveness, knowing full well it was merely a facade. His wide eyes and twitching brow was a testament to this.
“Severus.” McGonagall had announced into their Head of House’s office. “I believe you must have heard of the earlier events.”
Snape emerged from the corner, clutching a quill in hand. “Hmm. Oh yes, I believe I have. It was the talk of my Potions class.”
Oikawa and you cringed at the statement. Snape glanced back at them. “Well, do come in Miss. Y/L/N and Mr. Oikawa. Thank you for escorting them here Minerva.” With that, the two of them walked in while McGonagall walked out, back to wherever she had meant to go before they were caught.
Snape’s office wasn’t exactly comforting when the air of dread and anxiety seemed to taint the air around them. Every breath you took sent the pit in your stomach even lower. Oikawa fiddled with his fingers as he stared down at the floor. Snape finally sat down at his desk, gaze unwavering as he stared at the two of them. “So,” He started, “Please inform me as to why two of the house’s most accomplished students were found by the Head of Gryffindor and dueling in the middle of the corridor.”
Oikawa rose his head to face Snape, a regretful look plastered on it. “Sir, I...my best friend took something that I needed and refused to give it back to me. He was doing it for more personal reasons, but the consensus was that he did not return it to me when I asked. I was desperate and resorted to a tickling charm to quickly distract him long enough to take back what was my possession, but Y/L/N interjected and she shot a spell at me in defense of my friend. The duel had escalated from there, sir.”
Snape contemplated this information, before moving his eyes to you. “Miss. Y/L/N, why exactly did you feel the urge to interject in this situation?”
You felt your hands clam up as you gulped back your nervousness. “Professor,” You said at nearly a whisper. “Iwaizumi is a good friend of mine. When I saw the exchange, I fully planned on walking past and ignoring it when I saw Oikawa shoot the tickling charm at him. From there, it had been instinct and just my urge to keep my friend out of harm.”
Snape nodded once, an indication that he had grasped the full extent of the situation, before his eyes settled between the two of you again. “Why was it that you two decided to duel in the middle of the hallway, even though the goal of protecting Mr. Iwaizumi had been fulfilled?”
“Well, it felt nice to duel her, sir.” Oikawa had said almost sheepishly. “Although at the time, I was more worried about my possession, so her interjecting merely stopped me from regaining it.”
“Likewise Professor.” You added. “I had been angry at Oikawa for hurting a friend for whatever it was that was taken from him, and felt like jinxing him was the only way to keep him from doing anything further.”
“The two of you do realize that dueling is forbidden and can result in expulsion, yes?” Snape pursed his lips as they both dropped their heads in anxiety. “However, I believe the petty rivalry between you two caused you to make an inaccurate judgement. I believe two months of detention is punishment enough.”
“Thank you sir!” They both thanked him, feeling the relief flood their veins.
“When will each of us start?” Oikawa had asked, a little life restored into his previously shocked eyes.
“You both will be doing manual tasks around the school starting Saturday at eight p.m. I will see to it that Mr. Oikawa’s quidditch practices are not disrupted by this. It won’t do us any good if the Gryffindors win the match against us purely because of petty rivalries and foolishness.” Snape had concluded. “That is all.”
Oikawa and you raised from your seats and exited the office in pure gratitude. You were safe. Looking towards Oikawa, you found him staring at you a bit longer than usual. “Is there something on my face?”
Oikawa backtracked for a moment, his stare changing into something a lot more alarming. “Oh hell no.” He murmured.
“Wait….” You had answered. The two of you froze.
Detention. TOGETHER?
“We….have to…….detention.” He sputtered, the color rising to his cheeks. “Fuck Y/N, you almost got us expelled and now we have to be stuck together for two months straight!?”
“You’re the one who shot the spell at Iwaizumi to begin with!” You argued. “Don’t blame this whole thing on me!”
“Fine fine, but aren’t you bothered at all by THIS?” He paced around outside the office, before deciding to stride towards the Common Room. “Gosh, it’ll be a miracle if I’m still alive by the end of this year.”
You began to jog after him, wanting nothing more than the comfort of your dormitory, “Don’t act all high and mighty Oikawa. I’m just as bothered about this as you are.”
“Why did you have to be so nosy?”
“Why did you have to shoot a spell at my friend?”
“He was my friend first you know!”
“And yet you always terrorize him.”
“I don’t want your time with Iwa to poison him and I–”
“Oikawa. Y/L/N.” Snape had said, following them into the Common Room. “I knew this was going to happen. Please, keep your bickering to a minimum. There are others around you who are not as fond of it as you are.” With that, he exited the room, his robe billowing out like a bat’s wings.
“Later Y/N.” Oikawa said simply as he began to climb the stairs to the boys' dormitories. You watched his retreating figure as you mounted the stairs towards your own dormitory. Oikawa was an enigma of sorts, and he was complex in all the ways he pretended not to be.
You knew that solving that mystery wasn’t something you wanted to do.
Then again, isn’t there a saying to keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer?
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“Y/L/N!” Your roommate yelled. “You got a letter from Kuroo asking if you wanted to meet up at the Quidditch pitch for some flying.”
“Tell him to fuck off and bother someone else.” You groaned, shoving your head deeper into your pillow. After the shock of the events yesterday and the prospect of detention TODAY with Oikawa looming over your head like some sort of storm cloud, you found it easy to fall asleep and stay in bed. Plus, Kuroo knew full well that you were not the fondest of flying due to practical reasons, and most likely heard what happened from Iwaizumi.
“Well, it also says that he will personally request Oikawa to wake you up if you’re not there by nine-fifteen….which is in another fifteen minutes.”
Rolling out of bed, you quickly go through the motions of getting dressed, and sprinting to the Great Hall to grab breakfast. You had opted for some pumpkin juice and a strawberry tart as you navigated through the castle and eventually reached the pitch. Kuroo stood there happily, his hair a little more messy than usual, and a smirk on his face when he checked the watch.
“Impressive. A minute early.” He said, eyes glinting mischievously. “You must really be excited to spend some time with me.”
“Not a chance Tetsu,” You responded, grabbing him and heading towards the middle of the field, the grass tickling your ankles as you walked. “You threatened to use Oikawa on me, and considering the circumstances, I refuse to see him any more than I have to.”
“Oh yeah,” Kuroo chuckled. “What actually happened? Gryffindor and the rest of the houses are filled with so many rumors and Iwaizumi has refused to divulge anything to anyone.”
“What!” You found yourself saying before you could control yourself. “Iwaizumi didn’t say anything at all?”
“No, he didn’t. So you’re going to have to tell me what the hell happened because as your best-friend, I am entitled to know this shit.”
“Well…..Oikawa and I may or may not have had a duel in the middle of the corridor that’s maybe two minutes from Flitwick’s Charm’s class.” You mumurmed quickly. “And McGonagall caught us and sent us to Snape.”
Kuroo’s amusement was poorly hidden, his face contorted into a weird shape trying to suppress his laughter. “Iwaizumi let this happen?”
“Uhhh not exactly. He took something from Oikawa, and like the petulant child he is, he began jinxing Iwaizumi to get it back. I just didn’t feel right seeing the situation and letting Oikawa have the upper hand.”
“So what did he take?” Kuroo slipped his hands into his pockets as he walked a few steps behind you.
“I have no idea.”
“What’s the punishment?” Kuroo let out a breathy gasp. “Snape is usually pretty lenient with his house.”
You groaned loudly. You did not need a reminder of the horrid weeks you were about to be subjected to. “Two months of detention.”
“That’s not that bad,” Kuroo assured you. “It could have been way worse.”
“With Oikawa.” You choked out. “Together.”
Kuroo’s eyes widened incredulously before he doubled down cackling his hyena laugh. You found yourself wanting to kick him, or anything really, since the idea of spending four hours with Oikawa every night besides whatever they needed to do for their goddamned potions project…..well it made you want to commit arson.
“Shut up!” You growled. “What did you actually call me outside for Tetsurou?”
He slowed his laughter at the mention of his full first name and smirked. “Look behind you.” Pivoting around, you saw Oikawa, and the rest of the Slytherin quidditch team on the far end of the field, mounting their brooms and doing drills as Oikawa directed them, being a part of the action himself. Oikawa looked a lot more like the reputation he upheld when he was on the pitch….and it seemed his numerous fangirls thought so too. The entire stands were filled with girls of all ages from their house, crowded together and cheering for him when he caught the snitch in his hand, a childish and genuine smile on his face every time he did.
That wasn’t exactly the case when he saw you and Kuroo on the other side of the pitch. Oikawa slowed his speedy acceleration around the bleachers and almost fell off his broom from the shock of it all. When his fangirls discovered the direction he was looking, they sent a dreamy sigh in the direction of Kuroo (who had built up some odd reputation as a heartthrob) and a pointed glare in your direction (since no other female should be taking Oikawa’s attention, apparently). He dismounted his broom and began jogging to the end of the pitch.
“So this is what you meant.” You said, rolling your eyes. “You just wanted an excuse to watch Slytherin practice.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.” Kuroo smiled. “Besides, I think I got all the entertainment I needed today. He almost fell off his broom looking at you.”
“Looking at us, you conniving little shit.” You teased. Oikawa had reached you just as the conversation had closed, not even out of breath. Just how much stamina did he have?
“What,” He sighed out dramatically, “What the hell are you doing here Kuroo?” You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. This was a first.
“Spending time with my best friend,” Kuroo responded almost immediately. “It just so happened that our little dalliance coincided with your quidditch practice.”
Oikawa actually smiled at this, a teasing look on his face. “Seriously? I swear, you Gryffindors need to have the practice schedules spell-o-taped to every nook of that common room of yours.” He then turned to you, his gaze immediately switching to some other type of look. At this point, Oikawa had thrown so many types of looks at you that you didn’t even care which was what anymore.
“I think he invited you here, right?” He had asked simply. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise yet again. No insult? No witty comment? No cocky demeanor?
“He threatened me.” You laughed, glaring at Kuroo. “But I can get him off the field so that way he won’t be violating tournament rules.”
Oikawa smirked in his smug way, and you were already internally groaning because you knew what he was going to say. “Awww, you came all the way out here to see me?”
Kuroo snickered as you neutralized your face into a disinterested one. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
“It doesn’t matter how I phrase it.” Oikawa defended. “Because you still came and you never come to these. Do you have a thing for me? Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Oikawa winked.
“Disgusting. Has anyone ever told you that you’re an insufferably cocky bastard?” You tried.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pretentious little argumentative slob?” Oikawa fired right back.
“No, you’re kidding me.” A voice hollered from over the field. Turning to face the practice, you found a pinkish haired boy (Hanamaki, that lovely bastard) using a spell to amplify his vocal chords. “Captain, as much as you love that girl, you need to get that Gryffindor off the field.”
Oikawa had an angry flush coating his cheeks as he flipped the boy off.
“So, it seems like you actually love me.” You grinned triumphantly. “If you have a thing for me, it’s alright.”
Oikawa scoffed. “As if.” He began sprinting back to the other end, yelling something along the lines of “MAKKI, I WILL END YOU!,” at the top of his lungs.
You decided to laugh it off and dragged Kuroo through the other end of the pitch before walking around it, and back towards the castle. The weather was actually good today, with soft clouds and a sweet breeze through the normally stiff air. It was a shame that you’d have to attend detention later that night, or you would have gone to the Astronomy Tower to catch a glimpse of the stars.
“Hanamaki Takahiro deserves a prize.” You said, your shoulder brushing Kuroo’s arm. “He reigned Oikawa within three seconds of teasing. I need to learn the art.”
“You are petty.” Kuroo chuckled.
“He got us detention.” You deadpanned. “He deserves all that misery.”
“But didn’t you also choose to duel him?”
“That’s a minor detail.” You waved off.
By the time that eight p.m. had rolled around, you had completed most of the assignments that were due and ate a decent amount of dinner before heading to Snape’s office, Oikawa staying a fair distance behind you. Snape had nodded at their punctuality before telling them that their assignment was filing and organizing the books in the Potions room, sorting out which ones were new and which were old by hand. Oikawa had nodded, but he seemed to be questioning a number of things in his head.
“The two of you have my trust, hence the lack of supervision. However, I will be verifying every morning, that you did not use your wands for any spells that could aid you in the tasks I am assigning. Be responsible.” Snape opened the Potions classroom door and ushered them in before he closed it behind them. The room was fairly cozy, illuminated by the lanterns and candles that Snape had lit prior.
“You’re good at manual work.” Oikawa remarked plainly as he surveyed the room, eyes calculating. It could have been mistaken as a compliment if not for the situation they were in.
“Everyone is if they have a basic comprehension of what it is like to live without magic.” You responded absentmindedly. “You’re probably good at it too.” That statement was true to some extent. Kuroo and you had always done each other’s chores, or anything to do with your hands really. It had always been a way to connect with what you were doing, and the sense of accomplishment from lifting something heavier than you’d normally be able to manage was better than doing the same with a simple spell.
Oikawa on the other hand had been exposed to spells his whole life. However, you’d see how he’d pick up the quaffles he used at practice, cut his parchment, and even move piles of books around by hand. He was nowhere close to magic dependent, and yet he pretended as if the lack of it was some weird phenomenon. You knew he put up a façade due to the years of observing him, and trying to find a crack in that armor that he made around himself.
Maybe this was one of those things as well.
Oikawa let out an exhale that sounded suspiciously like a yawn, but you didn’t think much of it while you made your way under the cabinets. There were nearly five hundred different copies of each type of book and at least four different types of textbooks. Oikawa followed you to that position, crouching down to see what you saw.
“No wonder Snape tasked us with this.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “He’s milking me for the four hours I’m putting in.” You grimaced in response.
“We are both putting in the hours you self-absorbed narcissistic–-”
Oikawa dramatically flailed his hands before placing them at his side, placing a pointed glare in your direction. “If Iwa had just given me my fucking...thing, then I wouldn’t have had to put up with you even more then I already had to.”
This peaked your curiosity. “What did he take from you?”
Oikawa blanched. “That is none of your concern Y/N.” He began rapidly taking sets of books off the shelves and arranging them on the table by hand. He had set them up into four piles, one for each set of textbooks. He looked back at you while you struggled to carry a large load of books and laughed. “Look at you. That’s not even a lot of books and your arms are shaking. How pathetic!”
Grunting, you stacked the books on the table opposite Oikawa and rapidly sorted through the books before wordlessly adding them to the piles Oikawa had established. “You were saying?”
Oikawa didn’t give you the reaction you were looking for. Instead, he merely went over to the cabinet and lifted an even larger stack of books than you had a few minutes prior with barely any strain. Putting them down at the table you had been at, just minutes earlier, he also sorted through them fairly quickly before placing them into piles. He then looked back up at you, his brown eyes filled with taunting intention. “I didn’t say anything.”
“How you manage to come off as even mildly likeable is some weird mystery.” You said. “Your fangirls must be deluded.”
“I guess that means you are too.” He hummed a tune under his breath as he grabbed another large pile of books and placed them before you. “You showed up to see our practice, and got Kuroo off the field since you didn’t want him to see the amazing skills that I’ll use against them.” He leaned a little closer to you, invading your personal space just enough to give you shivers. “Sounds like fangirl behavior to me, Y/N.”
You backed away from him, sorting through that giant pile and placing them in their allotted spots. “You’ve got it all wrong Oikawa. I can’t have you poisoning Kuroo by being around him all the time. Besides, I’d never cheer for you.” You took the chance to meet his eyes in what you hoped looked like a challenge. “Never in a million years.”
Oikawa’s observant face morphed into something a lot more daring. “Oh? You’re on.”
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It had been twelve days since Oikawa and you had begun your shared detentions at eight every night, and you decided that it was single-handedly, the shittiest thing you had to suffer through. While the weekend was manageable, the weekdays brought loads of schoolwork that you simply did not have time to finish during the day. You sat up late every night, even forsaking sleep, to complete those assignments to the best of your ability before you collapsed. In the midst of that stress, it seemed you had forgotten to study for the History of Magic Test.
The marked-up piece of parchment stared back at you, a simple “dreadful” written in the corner. How a ghost corrected your test so harshly wasn’t even your concern at this point, because the score on your paper was nothing short of a disgrace. Tucking the paper within the materials of other classes, you left as soon as you were dismissed, almost sprinting, because if there was one thing you needed to avoid right now, it was Oikawa.
You rushed in front of the Fat Lady, and gasped for breath as you said “ad meliora.” She opened up for you, and you immediately sat in one of the chairs in the Common Room when Iwaizumi bounded down the stairs of the boys dormitory.
He caught you almost immediately. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Ahhh,” You began sheepishly, “I needed to hide away from Oikawa.”
“Why?” Iwaizumi sat down on the chair opposite to you, green eyes piercing your own.
“Bad test grade.”
“So the detentions have become deadly.” Iwaizumi chuckled lowly. “You’re not the only one you know. Oikawa’s been worse than usual too. I can bet he got the same score as you, or maybe even lower.”
“I don’t feel like risking it Hajime.” You groaned. A few seconds of silence followed that. You looked up at Iwaizumi, who seemed to be happily thinking something through. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Nope,” Iwaizumi smiled. “You called me by my first name.”
“Oh shit,” You flushed, feeling the embarrassment set in. “Sorry!”
“Oh hell no.” He laughed. “It’s been long enough. We’ve known each other since first year Y/N. Hell, even I call you by your first name. It’s fine!”
“If you say so Hajime.” You shrugged. “Hmm, actually, that does work. We’ll stick to first names now.”
“That’s the spirit!” Iwaizumi grinned. “So, about those detentions...I kind of got you into them in the first place, so could I offer some advice?”
“Anything. I’m too sleep-deprived.” You admitted.
“After detention the two of you should work on homework and study together. You’re both incredibly smart and already have the bantering thing that you can use to swap ideas. It’d most likely also cut down the time it takes for you to finish. Why not try it?”
“More Oikawa?” You spoke lowly. “He’d hold this over my head for centuries.”
“I think the two of you have too much pride to admit that you need each other’s help.” Iwaizumi leaned deeper into the loveseat. “Just think about it, okay?”
“Fine.” Leaning deeper into the chair, you found yourself on the verge of sleep. “Hmmm, it would be nice to nap here. I bet you Gryffindors do it all the time.”
“I’ll let you test that out after you solve your homework situation.”
“You’re so mean Hajime.” You blinked, gathering your class materials. You didn’t have time to nap, and settled on going to the library to finish Arithmancy homework.
During detention, the two of you had to clean the awards of the school by hand and thankfully, Snape had convinced Filch to spend his time elsewhere, telling them once again that they needed to be responsible.
Oikawa looked worse for wear with his normally styled hair lying messy against his head and dark bags surrounding his eyes. He went an entire hour of detention not even acknowledging you, and you couldn’t even be happy about it because you realized Iwaizumi was right. You just didn’t want to be at his mercy.
“Y/N.” He had said. You turned to face him, ceasing the cleaning you were doing before. “This whole detention thing...well it’s not being kind to my grades. I can only assume that you’re in the same boat as I am.” He bit his lip in thought. “I got a dreadful on the History of Magic test today.”
You felt relief overcome you. So Iwaizumi had been right. Oikawa was suffering just as much as you were. “So did I.” You rasped. “I think we should stop fighting since we need to–”
“Yup, we do.” He finished your sentence for you, thinking exactly what you were thinking before you had even managed to say it. “And I know the perfect place to start.”
After you had both made every plaque in that room shine with your reflections, Oikawa had gestured for you to follow him up the stairs and down a few unknown corridors until you reached the outside of an ordinary looking room.
“Isn’t this just a classroom?” You asked him curiously.
“You’ll see.” He opened the door and gestured for you to come inside when suddenly, you were met with a room filled with an archive of shelves, a coffee table, and holy shit! A COFFEE MAKER.
“Coffee maker.” Was all you managed to get out in your shock. Oikawa regarded you with a confused pout on his face.
“What’s coffee?”
You stared back at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “No Y/N, I literally have no clue what that is.”
You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, and you let yourself head over to the lovely machine, going through the motions you had desperately missed doing. “It’s a muggle drink that helps to give you a boost of energy and improves your brain function for a while.” You extracted the coffee from the pot and poured it into the two mugs that had magically appeared, adding the extras until both of you had identical cups. “Here you go.”
Oikawa cupped the mug and nodded once before sipping it. His brown eyes shot with excitement when he took another sip. “Y/N...this stuff is amazing.” He whispered in awe. He took another sip and suddenly, Oikawa was smiling a genuine smile ear to ear as he looked at the beverage and back at you. “How have I never heard of this before?”
“Well you were born in a family of all wizards.” You reasoned. “My Dad is a muggle and my Mom is a witch, so I grew up the muggle way until I got that letter. I do miss things like this sometimes.” You cringed. Sharing that much personal information with Oikawa was bound to be disastrous, since he always teased it or used it against you, but this time he listened to you completely. His brown eyes were warm and seemed tired at most.
You realized that maybe Oikawa Tooru wasn’t as bad as you had originally believed.
“My family is all Ravenclaw.” He had said, dragging you to the coffee table. Sitting down, he placed his mug on the top and admired the beverage again before making eye contact with you. “When I was sorted into Slytherin, I had immediately broken years of tradition. I have to compensate for that.”
“Is that always why you’re working in the library at times you should be resting?” You asked him.
He seemed surprised that you knew this. “You noticed?”
“Iwaizumi has told me a few stories. You’re a dumbass if you think that you need to compensate. You already seem like you’re doing enough.”
“And you’d be an ignorant twit if you didn’t realize that you’re working towards something and not giving yourself the credit.” He fired back.
Realizing what they had said to each other, they began laughing. They had never fathomed a day where they’d be able to look each other in the eye and not spit out insults, but to joke around and share core parts of their personalities was another thing altogether.
“Are we only getting along because we’re sleep deprived or because we’re ambitious little shits who need to get work done?” You had asked rhetorically.
Oikawa smirked, but it wasn’t smug. “I’ll have you know that if anyone is a little shit, it’s you, since you can’t even believe that I have the ability to be nice.”
“Don’t blame me! You were an asshole on the train.”
Oikawa had the audacity to look thoroughly shocked. “Well...I was a little ego drunk.”
You almost spit out the coffee you had just sipped at the word choice. “Ego drunk?”
“Well yeah,” He finished the last of his coffee with a contented sigh. “I had never had the attention of so many girls before.”
You rolled your eyes. “Typical. You can really be a cocky bastard sometimes.”
“Like how you can be an insufferable know-it-all.” You took the time to analyze him calmly. He seemed relaxed, although you could tell that his mind was racing with unsaid thoughts. “But it’s never been a bad thing.” He decided to add at the end.
You let yourself chuckle. “I think I’ll clear the air here. I’m sorry for what I said in the li–”
“You were forgiven the moment you sent that note.” He said, absolutely serious. “I was pissed since I’m used to other people saying that sort of stuff, but not you. That note was probably the nicest thing somebody had done to apologize, even though that was a crappy thing to say.”
“Oh.” You hadn’t expected him to forgive you so easily.
“I’m sorry for anything I’ve said that’s hurt you.” He brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “I got caught up in the–”
“I forgive you.” You allowed yourself to say. “I mean it.”
The two of them sat in silence, contemplating the words they had shared between them.
“Truce?” Oikawa had asked, holding up his hand. “You don’t have to.”
“I will.” Gripping his hand with your own, you shook it gently, ignoring the feel of his calloused palms on yours. “Truce.”
*******
The night after Oikawa and you had called a truce, you had slipped into a routine of sorts. Attend classes, swap notes in between free periods, take care of their Wolfsbane potion, do their own activities, do detention, do homework, repeat.
By introducing each other’s viewpoints into your daily academics, you not only managed to retain even more information, but found yourself getting higher scores again. Oikawa had been overjoyed at the results himself, saying that he had never been quite this successful at Transfiguration since fourth year. However, they had decided to keep the arrangement a secret.
They were Slytherins. Who were they if they didn’t mess with at least one Gryffindor?
“So,” Kuroo had begun saying as you sat at the foot of the tree by the Great Lake, giant squid flailing about. “I’m not hearing much about Oikawa lately. Hell, you don’t even argue in Potions anymore. Did something happen?”
Damn it. He was perceptive.
“The bastard is still a massive pain in the ass.” You had decided on saying. “It’s just that we keep our bickering outside of classrooms now.”
Kuroo rose an eyebrow suggestively. “Hmm. Okay. Make sure the bickering is safe and consensual.”
Oh that bastard–
“Yoo-hoo!” Oikawa called out in his typical fashion. He looked better than normal today for some reason. Maybe he had slept better. He took long strides and plopped down beside you, ignoring Kuroo’s clearly shocked face. “How have you been Y/N?”
“I’ve been better.” You responded, fighting the urge to point wildly in Kuroo’s direction. “Did you add the myrrh to the Wolfsbane? I already stirred it counterclockwise yesterday, and it began transforming into a somewhat blue-ish looking color.”
“Yeah, I saw that when I was adding the myrrh. Good job.”
“Wait wait wait, HOLD UP!” Kuroo had burst, not able to contain himself. “Did you two just have a CIVIL conversation?”
“Uhh, yes?” Oikawa shrugged. “Why is it so surprising?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him wink with his left eye. Ahh. He wanted to spill the secret.
“Because you guys are rivals! You’ve never gone more than two minutes without arguing, and now you’re telling me that you’re being civil?!” Kuroo ranted. “HOW?”
“Oikawa is my study buddy.” You smiled as you poked his shoulder. It had been an innocent comment, but like the pervert he was, Kuroo’s face deviated into the smug smirk you knew so well.
However, Oikawa’s fangirls that had been walking by said something first.
“Hey, Yuki. Y/L/N and Oikawa are study buddies now.” A girl whispered to her friend.
“Oh? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. They’ve always had this super crazy chemistry. I guess the banter’s just as good in bed.”
Oikawa and you simultaneously choked while Kuroo laughed, sending a wink at the two girls.
“We ONLY study!” You buried your head in your arms, begging the burning embarrassment on your face to subside.
“Are you sure about that?” Oikawa had said lowly, but still loud enough for Kuroo to hear. “We have done some other things.”
“Fuck you.” You mumbled, head still in your arms.
“How about we do that a little later?”
You groaned yet again as Oikawa and Kuroo erupted into a laughing fit so loud, you were worried they were going to suffocate. Raising your head from your arms, you had a view of both of their faces, breathless from laughter. “Cut it out you pigs.”
“No….way!” Oikawa gasped. “You’re too fun to rile up.” You giggled at his antics.
“Oikawa. We should get going if we want to finish the fifteen-inch parchment essay on the fidelius charm.” Grabbing your books, you headed towards the castle, turning back to see Oikawa telling Kuroo something and jogging to catch up with you.
After detention, they had sat at the coffee table in the Room of Requirement (as Oikawa had called it) and sipped their iced lattes as they played hangman on a sheet of paper.
“Oikawa!” You playfully scolded. “What obscure phrase in your mind is so embarrassing that you won’t let me find it out the normal way?”
“It’s no fun if you don’t guess the entire phrase at once.” Oikawa pouted. “Muggle games need to be amped for intensity.”
“You’ve been using those types of words all day.” You murmured. Wait. “Is it ‘I will make you cheer for me at the Quidditch Cup tomorrow and you will wear my scarf?’”
“Spot on!” Oikawa grinned as he drew a large smiley face on the paper. “I still remember how you said that you wouldn’t cheer for me in a million years. I guess I can make you now.”
“Scarf?”
“I’ll hand it to you before the match.” He looked serious, and you were touched by the gesture.
“I was only joking about that.”
“I wanted to give it to you anyway.” He mumbled, shoving his flushed cheeks behind his palm. Regaining his composure, he re-emerged. “We’re playing against Ravenclaw in the first round, and I have to show my parents that being on Slytherin doesn’t make me any less of a player. We were known for fouling a lot back then, but nobody on our team now would dare.” He took a deep breath, looking into your eyes with some sparkle of hope. “What I’m trying to get at is that I’d feel a lot better seeing you in my scarf.”
You found your face heating up at the statement. “I’ll wear your scarf, but no guarantees about the cheering thing.”
“You being there is enough for me.” He smiled. “Besides, your teasing is probably going to wind up being more motivational than the cheesy stuff the fangirls come up with.”
You hesitantly reached to brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes, watching him marginally freeze because of the contact. “I don’t know how that didn’t tickle your eyelid.” You shrugged, “And did something happen? You’re being flirty. You know it–”
“Doesn’t work on you, believe me, third-year you drilled it into my head.” He sighed. “I’m just in a good mood.”
“You better keep that mood until tomorrow.” You teased. “The Grand King must please his royal subjects.”
“Cut that out!” He laughed.
“Well, it looks late. You think we should just conjure some beds and camp out?” You suggested. It was the safest option considering the looming tendencies of Filch and also seemed like the best option so he could get the right amount of rest before the game. Oikawa nodded as he rolled into the plush bed that the room had created.
“Don’t roll into my bed at night, Buttercup.”
You sighed “I would never.”
“Yeah…never.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Go to sleep Oikawa.”
Sleep had never been so rewarding.
The next morning, you woke up refreshed and were able to quickly get through your morning routine. However, when you came back, you were met with the sight of Oikawa manning the coffee machine. Once he caught sight of you, he smiled gently.
“Morning Y/N.” He greeted, handing you a cup of whatever type of coffee he had decided on. Taking a sip, you were shocked to find the same exact coffee you had prepared the night they had made their truce. It was….amazing.
“Holy shit, this is so good.” You praised. “Good morning to you too.” Oikawa was dressed and freshened up, seeming thoroughly awake. “What time is it?”
Oikawa looked for a clock in the room until he found one. “Ahh...it’s 7:25. We should head to the Great Hall.”
Finishing their last sip of coffee, they set the mugs down on the coffee table and began their walk to the Great Hall, marveling at the general silence of the usually bustling castle. A look outside showed absolutely horrid weather with the rain coming down faster by the second. Oikawa looked pleased with this.
“This weather seems awful.” You remarked casually as you sat at the Slytherin table. “Why do you look so excited?”
“Because I had the team do drills like this.” He reasoned. “We’re more than used to playing in watery conditions. I’m only worried about visibility at this point.”
“Alright.” You grinned. “Do what you do best Oikawa.” He grinned back.
The Quidditch Pitch was no longer as rainy as it had been during breakfast, but it still thundered occasionally as the fog enveloped the area. Oikawa had been right to worry about visibility. You could barely see the bleachers at the other side of the pitch, and the rain didn’t make anything easier. The Slytherin team had emerged from one side of the field, looking decently professional with Oikawa at the front. You could vaguely see him clutching something to him as he walked, as the girls around you screamed when he looked in your general direction.
“Y/N!” He hollered, gesturing for you to come down to where he was. You smirked as you ran down to meet him, the girls around you being disappointed that they weren’t the ones acknowledged. He was taller than you by a good amount, and while you never let that bother you before, standing in front of him now made you feel a bit small. However, you could finally see what he was holding. The scarf.
“Hi again.” You smiled.
“Hey,” He exhaled. “I told you I would.” He took the green and silver striped scarf and gently slung it around your neck. It was warm, comforting, and even smelled like a mix of pine and lavender. You were never going to tell him anything about that.
You made eye contact with a genuine smile on your face. “Thanks.”
His eyes flashed mischievously in response. Uh oh. “So, where’s my goodluck kiss?” He asked. “I did technically give you my good luck charm, so I’ll need something lucky in return.”
You kissed your fingertips lightly before placing them on his cheek. “Do well out there idiot.” He could only watch as you laughed and found a seat on the bleachers as the teams were called to the center of the field to play. However, what caught your eye was Oikawa’s disgruntled expression as he fought with the Ravenclaw captain, who had olive-brown hair and broad shoulders.
“Who’s that?” The girl behind you had asked into the crowd. “And why is Oikawa so mad? He’s better than the entire Ravenclaw team.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You looked beside you to see a tall blond haired boy with glasses, staring intently at the field. “That would be Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s a skilled chaser and has somehow always managed to keep Oikawa from catching the snitch in previous matches, despite the fact that he can’t even do anything directly to him. Raveclaw also has Kageyama Tobio, an academic idiot but a tactical genius when it comes to the game.”
“Oh! Kageyama is Ravenclaw’s seeker, right?” The girl said.
“That’s correct.” The blond haired boy had said. “It’s so unfortunate that he’s on Ravenclaw. It demolishes the entire reputation of the house for being clever, even if he is a magnificent seeker.”
“What do you have against him?” You had questioned. “And how come I’ve never heard of this? Oikawa’s conflicts are always front and center.”
“Ah,” The boy turned towards you, eyes golden and analyzing. “You’re Y/L/N Y/N, aren’t you? Do you really think your rival would give you the names of his other rivals? You could team up with them.”
“I prefer to fly solo.” You said cooly. “Who even are you?”
“Tsukishima Kei. Fourth year.” He introduced himself calmly. “Kageyama is in my classes. I despise him. Always so reckless. He should have been Gryffindor.”
“You seem to have a very set idea of what Ravenclaw should be like.” You insisted. “Otherwise you really wouldn’t care so much.”
“I know people on the Ravenclaw team.” Tsukishima shot back. “And they have difficulty controlling the King of the Court.”
They called Kageyama “the King of the Court”? Suddenly, Oikawa’s aggression towards Ravenclaw made sense. It wasn’t JUST his parents. It was the fact that Kageyama, a full two years younger, was a splendid seeker and on the house that Oikawa’s parents expected him to be in. It was Ushijima Wakatoshi’s chasing skills that put all of Oikawa’s persistence to shame. It was all these Ravenclaws pitted against the one Slytherin who wanted to succeed more than anything.
That was a gut-wrenching revelation.
The game started with a whistle, and suddenly everyone was in the air, in position, and ready to play. Hanamaki and Matsukawa frantically passed the quaffle to each other with Hanamaki shooting it through the hoop of the Ravenclaw side, effectively beating their Keeper. Ten points to Slytherin!
Their house cheered but quieted down when Ushijima weaved expertly through the players, narrowly avoiding a bludger from one of their beaters, and scored, earning points for Ravenclaw. Looking up, you could see the desperation on Oikawa’s face.
He flew upwards, trying to gain a large view of the field when suddenly, he dived, attracting the attention of Kageyama, who began to tail him. It was a race of speed and skill as Oikawa suddenly pulled up from the dive, narrowly missing Kageyama (who managed to save himself in time). A feint!!!
Slytherin yelled in praise as Ravenclaw cheered for Kageyama’s save. The Gryffindors were on the edge of their seats, and groaned when a beater nearly knocked Matsukawa off his broom. The Hufflepuffs on the other hand were cheering loudly as Ushijima sent yet another quaffle through their hoops.
Kageyama gritted his teeth as he tried to find Oikawa within the mix of players, finding him not even a minute later by the Gryffindors. The two of them frantically zoomed around the pitch, the sheer intensity of it sending shivers down your spine. The rain poured even harder, and one of the other chasers, a Ravenclaw named Akaashi Keiji had the quaffle slip from his hands before it was saved by Matsukawa.
You caught sight of a fleck of gold near the Hufflepuffs and it seemed like the Gryffindors did too before they all started yelling. “THE SNITCH!”
Oikawa had dashed towards the Hufflepuff bleachers so quickly as Kageyama followed behind. The two of them were neck and neck, changing their direction as the snitch constantly eluded them. You could vaguely hear Iwaizumi yelling “SHITTYKAWA, GO FASTER!” and found yourself gripping his scarf even harder.
He was almost there, his arm reaching, fingers grasping around the snitch, when suddenly, a bludger from Ravenclaw beater Aone Takanobu slammed straight into Oikawa’s broom, sending him free-falling.
Madam Hooch promptly screamed “Arresto momentum!” into the thundering skies, and Oikawa was saved from the fall, breathing still panicked, eyes widened. However, that wasn’t the only thing he seemed to panic about. Turning your glance, you saw Kageyama’s hand gripped firmly around the snitch, the Ravenclaws erupting in a bellowing cheer.
They had lost.
You immediately sprinted off the bleachers towards Oikawa, who was surrounded by teachers, as well by Kuroo and Iwaizumi while he was being examined for injuries. He looked so broken, that you felt your eyes burn at the sight of him.
“Tooru.” Iwaizumi said, voice unwavering. “You were extraordinary out there. That situation was out of your control.”
“I should have been a second faster.” He growled, the storm in his eyes more intense than the one they were currently in. “I was almost there. I should have gripped it harder. DAMN IT!”
“Oikawa, that wasn’t your fault! Kageyama needed your guidance to catch that damn thing in the first place!” Kuroo argued.
“But he still caught it!” Oikawa groaned. “We could have won. I screwed it up for everyone.”
“Captain,” Hanamaki yelled, running towards him. “That was an amazing game we played out there. That bludger was uncalled for.”
“No Makki.” He said, his voice strained. “You guys played an amazing game out there. You gave Ushiwaka a run for his money.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I just couldn’t beat them.”
The thunder was almost deafening as the teachers agreed that Oikawa was uninjured, and they walked away, leaving just them.
“Oikawa,” You said in almost a whisper. You crouched to meet him on the floor, his face set in stony impassiveness. “You were astonishing out there. I mean it,”
He looked at you, clearly trying to disguise the torment he was feeling on the inside. “I still wasn’t enough, Y/N.” He rapidly blinked his eyes. “I...wasn’t....enough.”
“Oikawa, that bludger wasn’t your fault. You were–”
“I should have practiced more.” He rasped. “I should have prepared for that situation. I should have spent more time at practice and less time doing anything else!”
“And overworked yourself?” You heard yourself ask incredulously. “How would that have helped anyone?”
“It would have at least meant our team had the chance to go play in the next round!” He groaned. “God, I should have spent less time with you in the Room of Requirement. Maybe then I would have been able to catch that damn snitch.”
“What does this have to do with me?” You asked, voice cold.
“You were a distraction.”
“So you’re saying that if you could, you’d undo that truce just so you could practice more?” You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the thought.
Oikawa glared at you. “In a heartbeat.”
You felt your heart clench terribly at the statement. Every second of laughter, every late-night discussion, every game of hangman played over different types of coffee...was a distraction? All the time they spent together was merely a hindrance?
“Fine.” You said, removing his scarf. “We don’t even have to be rivals. We can be nothing. I won’t be bothering you anymore.” You got up, walking away promptly, begging the burning sensation in your eyes to subside. He had never meant anything.
“Y/N wait!” He had called out, maybe realizing what he had said. You ignored him, sprinting off the pitch. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.
It seemed that fate was cruel to its subjects. It always seemed that way.
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The next few days went on monotonously. You rose at the appropriate time for your classes, did all your homework in the library alone, and did your job at detention. Ignoring Oikawa was difficult.
He was an ever-present source of something in your life, whether it was misery or laughter, and the sudden absence of it was almost melancholy. You had realized that maybe the reason it hurt so much more was that you had begun to see a different side to the boy. The side that was funny and teasing, considerate and charming. You began to see what it was like when he was fond of someone.
You used to think he was fond of you.
Before you had even realized it, the Wolfsbane potion had been brewed to its completion, and much to the surprise of Snape and the rest of the class, it was perfect. You resisted the urge to grin at Oikawa, or yell “We did it!” because that’s what friends would do, and the two of them were nothing.
Detention had also been served and Snape commended their diligence before you walked out of his office, ignoring the pained look in Oikawa’s eyes as you sped past him, not even acknowledging his existence. You didn’t consider yourself to be particularly emotional, but you didn’t enjoy being used. That was where you drew the line.
You couldn’t sleep that night. You had been attempting to toss and turn for the better of two hours and found yourself wide awake and plagued with thoughts you didn’t want to have. You had realized over the past few days that you had certainly felt something for the brunette, otherwise, he wouldn't have been on your mind as often. Slipping on a pair of shoes, you wandered aimlessly through the castle before somehow landing in front of a familiar door.
“Get my mind off that prick.” You whispered, before opening the door.
The last thing you would have expected was to see said prick, asleep across the coffee table with a thick pile of paper around him. They were scattered all around the room, some listing quidditch strategies against….Gryffindor?
Right. Hufflepuff had lost to Ravenclaw in the first round, which was why Slytherin had to play Ravenclaw in the match a few days earlier. Gryffindor must have beaten Ravenclaw in the third round, and Slytherin must have beaten Hufflepuff to get back in the game. That meant the final round tomorrow was against Gryffindor.
Those weren’t the only types of parchment. Every now and then, there was a giant “I’m Sorry” written in the loopy cursive you knew so well. You had no idea who he was apologizing too.
Suddenly, the steady breathing that had been filling the room before stopped. You frantically turned towards the boy, shaking him gently.
“Oikawa.” You said, shaking him a little harder. “Oikawa. Get up.” When he didn’t respond, you began to check his pulse. The faint thrumming against your thumb only managed to panic you further. “Damn it!” You pulled out your wand, but realized you knew no spell to revive him quickly, considering he hadn’t been hit with any spell prior. You shook him one last time, tears running down your face. “Tooru!”
He flickered his eyes open, his eyes hazy and bloodshot. He had been awake, working or crying. Upon seeing you, his eyes softened into a look so fond that it unsettled you. He sat upwards, rubbing his eyes before he said anything. “Y/N.” He whispered, as if he didn’t believe it. “Is that actually you? Or am I dreaming again?”
He had been dreaming of you?
You walked over and made eye contact with him for the first time in days. “You’re not dreaming. I’ll get goi–”
“No!” He yelled, gripping your wrist. “Please stay. Please.” The look in his eyes was so desperate that you sat down across him, moving some of the parchment out of the way so his face wasn’t obscured. He sat up straight, before adjusting his hair slightly.
“I think you collapsed.” You breathed out, still shaken from his limp form a few minutes earlier. “I was so afraid.”
He hesitantly gripped your hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” The look in his eyes was earnest. “I’m sorry for telling you that I would have wrecked that truce in a heartbeat. God, that wasn’t true at all!” He let out a shaky exhale before he let his eyes flicker all over your face as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he looked away. “I missed you more than you could have ever imagined. I let my insecurities and torment push you away. I’m so sorry, I’m sor–”
“It’s okay Tooru.” You sighed, relief and comfort encompassing you. You had never meant to forgive him this easily, but the genuineness of his apology struck something within you. His face morphed into a face of disbelieving,
“You forgive me?” His eyes glittered with hopefulness. “You..”
“Yeah. I guess I do.” You smiled.
Oikawa’s face immediately burst into an expression of pure happiness and he squeezed your hand harder. He was glowing and a part of you realized just how much you missed seeing him. “I think I have a bit of explaining to do.” He almost giggled. “I’m so sorry. I’m just reli–”
You chuckled lightly. “Me too.”
He didn’t let go of your hand as he pushed a jar of ink away. “Two months ago, you found Iwa and I fighting in the corridor.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not–”
“Nope,” He grinned. “You deserve to know. Iwa took away my last vial of Wideye Potion. I used to use it almost three times a week to stay awake and practice, or study. It was the only way I could work without falling asleep or collapsing. Him taking my last vial took away any chances of me doing those things naturally. That’s why I resorted to magic.”
All of a sudden, everything clicked into place. “That’s why you were always yawning during detention and needed Hajime to pull you out of the library.”
Oikawa nodded. “Yeah, he always had to keep me in check. That was until you came along.”
“Oh,” Was all you managed to get out before Oikawa began rubbing circles onto your hand.
He looked around the room before his eyes landed on the clock. “It’s already 3:00 a.m. You don’t have to, but could you stay here and just sleep with me? I haven’t been able to sleep for the past week.”
You raised an eyebrow. “We just resolved our conflict and you already want to sleep with me? I didn’t think you’d be someone of that sort, Oikawa.”
He blushed almost instantly. “Ugh, that’s not what I meant.” He placed his hands on his cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “Tooru.”
“What?” You asked.
He looked back up at you, more composed now. “Call me Tooru.”
“But that’s your firs–”
“I’ve been calling you your first name forever,” He laughed. “Besides, my first name sounds much better when you say it.”
It was your turn to blush, the heat filling your cheeks. “You flirty menace.” You chuckled as you lied down on the mattress the room had provided. He only smiled from his own bed as the two of you fell asleep.
Maybe fate’s cruelties led to something a lot sweeter.
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The Great Hall buzzed with anticipation before the final round of the Interhouse Tournament. Everywhere you looked, you could see the smiling faces of the players, as well as the competitive glances between Snape and McGonagall. The weather today was gorgeous with clear skies and the sun offering the perfect amount of warmth. It was the ideal condition to play, and you were excited for the turn-out.
During breakfast, you had flounced over to the Gryffindor table, waving hello to Iwaizumi and Kuroo. Iwaizumi had moved over so you could sit next to him.
“So,” Kuroo began. “Are you going to wish us good luck and hope for our victory?”
“Not a chance Tetsu.” You responded. Turning to Iwaizumi, you smiled. “Captain, I wish your team the best of luck in not falling off your brooms when your team faces mine.”
Iwaizumi’s face contorted into a playfully challenging glare. “Oh, you’re on!” You slapped him on the back as you headed back to your table, accidentally slamming into someone on the way.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” You said, only to be met with the hazel eyes of Sugawara Koushi.
“It’s okay Y/N. It’s been a while hasn’t it?” He asked good-naturedly.
“It has Koushi, hasn’t it.” The two of you began walking down the length of the hall. “I heard about the match against Slytherin. I’m sorry about Hufflepuff losing.”
Sugawara was still all smiles. “I think it was a good game all in all. Oikawa is no joke as a seeker when he’s focused.”
“Tell me about it.” You said, rolling your eyes. “Last night I found him sketching-out strategies and he actually passed out. His work is already impeccable, but he always goes the extra mile.”
“Ahh, so the rumors are true,” Sugawara smirked mischievously. “Who would’ve thought.”
“What rumors?” You asked before you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning around, you saw Oikawa clutching a glass of pumpkin juice. “Oh, hi Tooru.”
“Hey there, Y/N.” Instead of the usual smile or cheeky wink you usually got when he greeted you, you found his eyes in the calculating gaze you knew so well but directed at Sugawara. “Hello there Sugawara.”
Sugawara’s smirk changed into a knowing smile. “Morning to you too Oikawa. Best of luck in the tournament.”
You stepped off to the side to see Oikawa’s expression, but it was still guarded, the gears in his mind shifting as he put on a charming smile. “Thank you. We’ll do our best.” He then gently grabbed your arm and dragged you back to the Slytherin table.
“What was that?” You asked him as he sat across you, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. “You weren’t jealous, were you?”
“Nope,” He smiled, his eyes still full of the fondness you had found from last night. “You two looked awfully chummy.”
“You’re definitely jealous then.” You winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“I wasn’t jealous!” He pouted.
“You were!”
“Was not!”
“Y/L/N, Oikawa, get a room already!” Hanamaki yelled from the other side of the table. “This sexual tension is not appropriate for the Great Hall.
All the students laughed as Oikawa and you blushed.
The Quidditch pitch continued to be the source of much excitement as all the houses waited for the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams to emerge from the opposite sides of the field. The air was electric with excitement, and you could feel the nerves building up in your stomach.
Gryffindor began their walk onto the field, Iwaizumi and Kuroo attracting the most cheers as they strutted down the pitch. They both looked to you, and you shot them a thumbs up as they assembled near the center.
The Slytherin team appeared not even a minute after, and the air was filled with loud cheers for Oikawa as he jogged onto the field, not missing to throw a wink your way. Cheeky gremlin. Iwaizumi and Oikawa met at the center and to some of the students’ surprise began joking around, wishing each other good luck after shaking hands.
Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and they were in the air, a thundering cheer as they rose. Almost immediately, the quaffle was thrown back and forth between the two teams, the red and green jerseys clashing almost artfully as each fought for possession. Kuroo threw the quaffle through the Slytherin hoops, earning points for Gryffindor, the audible sighs of his fangirls heard all around the stadium.
Looking at Oikawa, you could see that the expression on his face was different...happy when he rose up on his broom to scour the stadium. In a flash, he began to dive, spotting the fleck of gold that was near the base of the pitch. The Gryffindor seeker by the name of Koganegawa Kanji blindly followed Oikawa into the dive but decided to turn when Oikawa hurtled straight near the ground, expecting a feint.
It wasn’t a feint.
Oikawa pulled out of the dive, snitch golden and fluttering against his hand with the widest, most amazing, grin on his face. Registering the victory, you stood with the rest of the houses and cheered as loudly as you could while the Gryffindors laughed at the short duration of the game.
You were running down to the pitch before you could even control yourself, and Oikawa was off his broom before anyone could even realize. The two of you raced towards each other, happy laughter coming out of the both of you.
“Y/N!” He yelled out with a wide and happy grin.
“Tooru, you did it, you beautiful bastard!” You laughed as he lifted you up and spun you around. It felt like it was just the two of you there when he put you down, looking deeply into your eyes.
“I guess we did, didn’t we.” He smiled boyishly. So engrossed in each other, they didn’t realize how the stadium had gone silent with the affection they had just witnessed. Hanamaki grinned deviously as Kuroo and Iwaizumi signaled to the other half of the stadium.
They all used their fingers to signal the countdown.
Three...two….one!
“OIKAWA!” The stadium bellowed at the top of their lungs. “JUST CONFESS AND KISS ALREADY!”
Oikawa was shaken from the sheer noise of it all, his face changing to a bright red realizing the words.
Confess? Did that mean…?
“Uhhhh Y/N.” He chuckled nervously. “You...you’ve been there for me during some of the toughest times of my life and got me through detentions and late nights. You always know what to say to me to get me to feel like an actual Grand King, and it always feels like I’ve conquered a kingdom whenever I see you smile. So...I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you. A part of me thinks I always have.”
You felt the warmth bubble within you like your face split into the widest smile you’ve ever smiled. “Tooru. I love you too!” The stadium cheered as the two of them hugged, the feelings of relief, warmth, and comfort surrounding them.
When they pulled away, he looked at the ground shyly. “I...brought the scarf...would you–”
“Of course idiot,” You sighed. “That’s not even a question.” He pulled out the scarf, slinging it around your neck just as gently as he had done the first time, except this time the stadium was silent with anticipation.
“God, I’m so happy I could kiss you.” You admitted.
“So then why don’t you?” He teased.
So you did, leaning in and pressing your lips to his almost gently. You weren’t prepared for how soft his lips were, or how nice it felt to be able to put all your feelings into an action so delicate. You also weren’t prepared for the way he kissed you back, almost hesitantly as he poured in all the tension they had felt for weeks around each other.
The cheers of the stadium were audible as you pulled away, blushing. Kuroo and Iwaizumi gave you a thumbs up as Hanamaki clapped his captain on the back.
“God, maybe we’ve spellbound each other from the start.” Oikawa smiled.
“Maybe we did.” You laughed.
*******
spell·bound
verb
held the complete attention of (someone) as though by magic; fascinated
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