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nghtwngs · 3 years

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description. you’re not sure how you landed yourself in this mess: forced to work with oikawa tooru, the guy who does everything better, and to you, your worst nightmare. you competed against him your entire life, but now you’re expected to work with him? surely things will get messy once feelings and time get involved.

pairing. student council president!oikawa tooru x vice president!reader

genre. fluff, angst, student council au, enemies to friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, hurt/comfort

word count. 7k

warnings. swearing, time-skip spoilers, reader uses she/her pronouns

author’s notes. this was supposed to be longer but im so tired. the reader in this is heavily influenced by my own insecurities, but i hope you can still find a piece of yourself in them too. thank you to my soulmate @cafemiya for starting this collab, and thanks to my bestie @miyamore for the beta. ily both sm

part of the promptly yours collab

The world is out to spite you.

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve this. You’ve never committed a crime before. Okay, well other than pirating K-dramas at two in the morning—but it’s not like you’ve killed anyone.

Not yet at least, you think as you stand next to the cause of all your annoyance, Oikawa Tooru. Many girls at Aoba Johsai would kill to be in this position, but you think you’d kill to get out of it. You blink when the click of the camera rings in your ears. It pulls you out from your thoughts. You can only hope the smile on your face isn’t too noticeably strained.

Oikawa looks all too happy about the predicament you both have landed in. From your peripheral, you can see a wide grin stretched on his face. The urge to smack it off of him comes, but you decide it’s inappropriate.

The elected secretary, Mamoru, is next to you. And the elected treasurer, Kaito, stands next to him. The photographer, a student from your class last year, begins to ramble on about how great the pictures turned out.

You nod along, only able to give her a small smile as she scrolls through them. She was right though.

The screen of the camera was small, but you still had to admit that the pictures do look good. Oikawa is undeniably photogenic, and his charming presence is clearly felt through the photo. Your limbs look kind of awkward, but with him in there, it didn’t really matter anyway. He always overshadows you. There’s a pit that forms in your stomach at the thought, but you drive it out of your head as quickly as it comes.

“These look so good,” Mamoru coos. “My hair looks perfect in this one.”

Kaito scoffs. “Whatever you say, princess.”

“What do you think?” He pouts, looking at you expectantly.

You stutter, “Oh, uh, I think you look nice.”

The corners of his lips curl upward. “See! Even Y/N thinks I look good.”

“Hey, I only said you looked nice,” you remark with a teasing smile.

A snort leaves Kaito’s lips while the other whines out your name. But the moment is cut short as all of you are reminded of the time. The bell is chiming, notifying everyone that class would begin soon. The photographer hurries out in a rush to get to her own classroom.

“We should get going.” Kaito sighs, tugging on Mamoru’s arm and pulling him out of the room, leaving you and Oikawa alone.

Both of you are grabbing your belongings. He’s the first to break the silence. “It’s going to be a lot of fun working with you, Y/N-chan.” He offers you an eye smile. It’s the kind that’s sure to make his fan club swoon.

You fight the urge to fake gag. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Your feet begin to carry you out the door, but you pause at the sound of your name being called.

“No goodbye?” There’s a teasing tone laced in his voice.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Goodbye, Oikawa.” You turn again to leave when you feel his fingers wrap gently around your wrist. His hand is warm. You stare at the contact. “What are-”

“We’re going to be seeing each other a lot now, Y/N-chan.” He pouts. “You can’t hate me forever.”

“I don’t hate you,” you mumble. The look on his face tells you he doesn’t believe a single word. If you’re being honest, you wouldn’t either. “Can you let go?”

He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

You hurry down the hall once he lets go, letting out a breath. You rub your wrist. You wonder why it feels so tingly.

It’s eight at night when Hanamaki Takahiro appears at your doorstep with an easy smile. He knows you can’t resist him. He makes a proposal to drag you out to a convenience store for something to satiate his sweet tooth. And you let him. He takes you through each aisle. You search every shelf for your favorite snacks and drinks.

You then find yourself in a small, dimly lit playground. You’re sitting on a swing set and stuffing your mouth with a strawberry sandwich.

“Slow down,” warns Hanamaki, who sits on the swing beside yours. “You’re gonna choke.”

You pout at him, chewing. “And?”

He rolls his eyes. “Where are your manners?”

“Manners? Very funny.” You snort, taking another bite of your sandwich. You hum in delight.

“Y’know, it could be worse.”

You meet his gaze, lips forming a thin line. Your feet scrape against the ground to push the swing. “Really? This seems pretty shitty to me.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“The constant teasing and embarrassing me isn’t that bad. It’s just,” you mutter the last part, “him.”

He hums. “At least you’re not dating him.”

Your face scrunches. “You’re right. That would be worse. But I’m still the newest target of his fan club though.”

“Don’t worry about them. They won’t bother you.”

“Really?” You don’t believe him.

Makki sips his strawberry milk with his head held high. “I’ll protect you.”

“I’m screwed then.”

“Hey-”

You watch as a crowd of students huddle around the bulletin board, blocking your vision. The results of the last exam were posted. You chew on your lip as you watch your classmates talk about their scores. Some have smiles on their faces while others are still scanning down the list for their name.

You’re not sure why your stomach is churning, why it always churns before you look at your grades. They’re never bad, but Oikawa’s are higher than yours sometimes. You huff. Maybe it’s not just the big group of people keeping you from looking.

You slowly walk towards the exam results with a sigh. There are too many people. You can’t see over them all. You stand on the tips of your toes, stretching your head in order to get a better look. The corners of your lips slowly curl downward as your efforts are futile.

“Huh, we got the same mark,” hums Oikawa, who you now realize is standing next to you. He’s tall enough to see over you and the crowd.

You land back softly on your feet, lips slightly agape. “Oh.”

You’re disappointed, a part of you wishing that you had scored higher, but the other relieved that you didn’t receive anything worse. You’d rather not deal with any more of his teasing. Your eyes sneak a glance at him; his hands are shoved in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. His eyes trail to you.

You quickly look away, guilty gaze meeting the hard tile floor. The silence makes you feel awkward. It has you turning away and heading to your classroom. But you don’t miss the feeling of someone’s gaze lingering on you.

The room is mostly empty when you take your seat. You’re glad that you’ve been placed next to the window this year. The sunlight feels so warm on your skin—you now have to reapply your sunscreen between classes, but you have a clear view of much of the campus. It’s especially nice to clear your head. You pull out your work from last night, placing it onto your desk without much care.

The chatter of your classmates as they file into the room grows louder. You tune them out, instead deciding to stare at whatever piques your interest at the moment. You watch as some students are rushing into the building down below, all carrying the same expression of distress. It’s safe to say that punctuality isn’t in the cards for them today. They all look so small from your view, you think. Until you’re reminded that the first meeting for student council is today.

A sigh escapes you as you run your hand down your face. You hope that you don’t stumble over your words, or somehow make a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You’re not even sure where to begin. You should’ve prepared.

The bell chimes, and you notice that the teacher has entered the room. You hear the click of her heels as she greets everyone with a curt smile and bids everyone a good morning before taking attendance. Your eyes squeeze shut.

This is going to be a very long day.

You try to keep up with the class, you really are, but the way you’ve been gazing out the window for the last ten minutes determines otherwise. The tick of the clock doesn’t help either. Really, it manages to make your stomach curl even more. You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, gaze set upon the whiteboard full of formulas.

Too much to memorize.

Finally, your assignment is passed out, but all you can do is blankly stare at it. All the words on its pages look illogical and all the numbers random. Maybe you should’ve paid attention. That’s obvious enough, but you’ll figure it out. You always seem to.

“That one’s actually twenty-two,” Oikawa corrects, finger pointing to one of the questions on the page.

A crease forms between your eyebrows as you redo the problem, coming to realize that he’s correct. You had forgotten a step. You sigh in a mix of defeat and annoyance. “What are you even doing over here, Oikawa? Your seat is across the room.”

“Well, I wanted to give you this.” Oikawa hands you some note cards. The pretty handwriting and highlighting catches your eye. They distract you from the content written on them: a messily put together overview of the meeting. “It’s for later.”

You nod. “Um, thanks.”

“No problem, Y/N-chan.” He flashes you a smile.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you want, Y/N-chan.”

You scoff. “Now can you go away? I can feel people staring.”

You’re shuffling through the cards quickly. You want to make sure you seem like you know what you’re talking about. Your mind wanders. You wonder when he made these. It couldn’t have been that long. You two were only announced as president and vice president yesterday. He must’ve spent a while on it, judging by the amount of information on it alone.

Not even you knew what the meeting would be about. You thought you could wing it from the start. You wish you would’ve thought of it first. You wish you would’ve done more.

You glance at the clock. It's almost time to start, but Oikawa is nowhere to be seen. You scan the hall for him. You feel your heart sinking.

“Where the hell is he?” you mutter, pacing near the door.

He can’t be late. It’s the first official meeting. How were you supposed to do this alone? You don’t have half the charisma nor the popularity he does. They won’t like you. Should you go looking for him? No, it’s not like you can search the entire school. You wrap your arms around yourself, chewing the inside of your cheek.

For the first time in your life, you need Oikawa.

It’s three minutes before the student council meeting when Haruka approaches Oikawa. She asks him if they could walk together to the meeting. There’s something important she wants to tell him on the way. He smiles at her as she falls in step with him. Her cheeks blush a bright red. The words are caught in her throat for too long though as Oikawa spots you.

You’re staring out the window with a frown etched on your face, wringing your hands. He’s by your side in an instant.

“Y/N-chan?”

“Where were you?” you ask.

“What? Missed me?” he teases.

“No.” You glare at him. “I can’t do the meeting without you.”

He doesn’t mind your scrutinizing eyes. He’d rather it than your frown. Your harsh gaze softens as Mamoru calls for the two of you. It’s time. You give Mamoru a small smile. Oikawa thinks that he might give the world to have that smile be for him.

The three of you walk into the room with Haruka trailing behind. You greet everyone with a small smile. You and Oikawa move to the front of the room, standing side by side. He gives an overview of what to expect. The student council will host a couple of events and trips over the course of the school year. He names a few of the festivals as well as a field day that they have to plan.

You go on to explain how the festivals will be done as well as a Valentine’s Day event. A few squeals are elicited from the class representatives at that.

You smile. “We’ll be back here next week to discuss our first trip. Same time.”

Oikawa smiles before asking, “Any questions?”

Oikawa’s eyes linger on you as you walk out to the school’s gates. Haruka calls out to him again. It’s only now that Oikawa notices the thing clutched in her hands. He glances back, only to find you already gone. Any trace of disappointment on his face is masked with a smile.

She’s gnawing at her lips, letting out a shaky breath once he fully turns to face her. There’s a gleam of curiosity in his eyes, but he has a feeling he knows what’s coming.

Her eyes squeeze shut as she holds out a flush pink envelope, the color of it lighter than the stain of red across her cheeks. “Oikawa, I really like you, so please take this!”

“Haruka, you’re very kind, but I don’t think I can return your feelings. Volleyball takes up a lot of my time, so I won’t be the best boyfriend. You deserve more than that.” He offers her a small smile, hoping his words are a big enough cushion for her. Admittedly, they feel cheap and overused, but after the countless confessions he’s received, what else is there to say?

There’s an embarrassed smile on her face as her hands fall to her sides. “It’s okay, I understand.” She walks away, the envelope crumpling in her hand.

The setter can’t help but feel bad as he did with every rejected confession. Though the thought is soon forgotten as he arrives at the gym. He’s greeted by the sight of Mattsun and Makki snickering about something when he feels a sharp pain on the back of his head. He whines, rubbing the spot that stings. “That hurt, Iwa-chan.”

“You’re late, Shittykawa,” says Iwaizumi. The look on his face is less than pleased.

“Sorry, sorry. I received another confession.”

“Another?” questions Hanamaki, but his tone carries no malice. “What do they even see in you?”

“Makki.” He drags his name out with a pout. “It’s because I'm pretty. I’m also an amazing setter.”

Hanamaki doesn’t deny the latter because well, in all seriousness, Oikawa is an amazing setter. There’s no doubt about it. And no matter how he gets, Makki still has a great deal of respect for him. Though he would rather take that to his grave than to ever utter such a truth.

“Well,” Mattsun begins, “what’d you say?”

“No, of course.” Oikawa scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t have time to date.”

And he really does believe that.

The first couple weeks of the school year aren’t too horrible. Having to see Oikawa a lot isn’t ideal, but you were able to keep your interactions short.

It’s an early spring morning when orange and pink hues collide in the sky, slowly being overtaken by a soft blue. The third years are going on a trip to Tokyo today. You walk over to Makki as soon as you spot him. His eyes are still filled with sleep as you poke his cheek.

“Who are you sitting by?” you ask.

He yawns. “Matsukawa.”

“I don’t have anyone to sit with.” You sigh. “All my other friends are sitting with each other.”

“Sit by yourself.”

“But that makes me look sad and lonely.” There’s an exaggerated pout on your face that makes Makki roll his eyes. “And I don’t want to look sad and lonely.”

“I don’t know. Sit with Oikawa then. Iwaizumi’s sick.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Weren’t you just saying how you don’t want to look ‘sad and lonely’?”

“Makki.” You whine.

He shakes his head at you. “You’re just like him- Ow!” He rubs the spot on his forehead that you flicked.

You do end up sitting with the setter, much to your chagrin. Somehow, he manages to not be much of a nuisance. He’s actually uncharacteristically quiet for the entire ride. You’d be lying if you said the silence wasn’t strange.

October arrives quickly. The Halloween season has begun, and the school is filled with excitement as students decorate. Each class is doing their own thing, from haunted houses to little booths. This year, your class is setting up a haunted house. Your classmates are looking for decorations while you and Oikawa work on the banner.

“What’s that supposed to be?” you ask.

He looks at you with a serious expression. “An alien, obviously.”

You snort, examining the little green figure. “The theme is Halloween not aliens.”

“Hey, aliens are kinda scary too!”

You shake your head at him, half amused. Over the course of the year, you’ve come to learn of his slight obsession with the idea of extraterrestrial life. Your strong distaste for him seems to be fading as you get to know him more. Your mutual interest in Buzzfeed Unsolved has even come up in a few conversations. You’re on the middle of the Ryan-Shane spectrum while he’s definitely a Boogara.

Maybe Makki is right. He’s not that bad.

Paint streaks are all over both of your hands after the countless times you had bumped into each other while drawing. Oikawa looks proudly at his creation as he stands up from the ground. “I’m going to go wash my hands.”

You hum in response, continuing to paint on the letters on the banner.

A bit of time passes before you start to wonder where he is. You look in the direction he left. You spot him in the middle of a group of people. They’re all smiling, and you can hear a chorus of laughter leave their lips. The corners of your lips tug down as you stare back down at the banner. It’s all so easy for him.

There’s a bitter feeling that bubbles in your stomach. It’s always been hard for you to connect with people. How does he make it look so simple? It’s your fault, isn’t it? You keep everyone an arm’s length away. You envy him. You envy the way he makes everything look effortless.

“Everything okay?”

The voice makes your hand jerk, smearing the letter you were writing. “Shit,” you mutter as you try to fix it. “Everything’s fine, except for this stupid letter.”

Kaito scratches his neck. “Sorry. You sure you’re okay though?”

“Yes, Kaito.” You offer him a tired smile. “Did you need something?”

There’s a blush that spreads on his cheeks. “Oh, well, uh I needed to ask you something.”

You lay down the paintbrush in your hand, turning to him with an expectant look.

“Do you,” he begins, eyes staring away from you, “know how to confess to someone?”

You blink. “Confess?”

“Yeah.”

He exhales, and you follow where his gaze trails to. Your eyes find Mamoru talking to a girl from your class. “Wait, you don’t mean…” Your hand flies over your mouth in disbelief. “Oh my, God. You do! That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

Your hands come up in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry. But why are you asking me of all people for advice?”

“You’re the only person whose advice I trust.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but I’m actually shit at that kind of stuff. My last crush was Gojo Satoru.”

“From Jujutsu Kaisen?”

You give him an embarrassed smile, nodding.

He pauses, turning to face you. “Me too.”

You’re both unable to contain the laughter that escapes your throats, gaining the attention of your fellow classmates. You make yourself smaller, embarrassed at the looks.

You meet his eyes, finding them already on your face. “What?”

“You have paint on your face,” he says before grabbing a washcloth.

“Oh.” You stare at your hands. “It’s just the paint from my hands. Must’ve gotten it on myself when I touched my face earlier.”

He walks away to soak it with some water, coming back to begin wiping off the paint. His touch is gentle as he makes sure to get it all off.

Oikawa comes back, a frown etched on his face. “Are you done yet, Y/N-chan?”

You nod. “Yeah, we can hang it up now.” You take the wet towel from Kaito, thanking him. Quickly, you scrub the paint off your skin. You throw the cloth in the sink outside when you’re done, and begin helping Oikawa lift the banner up.

“What did he want?” The question that runs from his tongue sounds innocent enough to you, but to anyone who really knows Oikawa, something is off.

You give him a half shrug. “Advice. Move it to the right a bit- no my right.”

The next time you find yourself needing Oikawa is when you get caught in the rain on a cold Monday afternoon.

The dreary weather calls for sweaters and thick coats, but you had been in such a hurry, you forgot a warm jacket and umbrella. You didn’t bother to check the weather that morning. You now regret it, seeing the downpour outside get heavier. Student council had a meeting after school to discuss upcoming events.

The rain had lightened earlier, making you think you had a chance to book it home before it got worse again. But the universe seems to enjoy proving you wrong.

You frown as you stare out at the sky. The clouds are a hopeless gray, hiding the blue sky you’re familiar with. You don’t usually mind the rain, but that typically applies when you’re indoors. You curse, wishing Makki had practice today so he could take you home. Do you make a run for it?

You hold out your hand from under the cover of the roofing. It’s quickly drenched, and you pull it back to wipe the water onto your thick sweater. You grimace. You’ll be soaked by the time you get home, but that’s better than waiting here.

You take your first two steps, preparing yourself for the rain, but you find yourself completely dry. You look up at the umbrella that shields you from the stubborn weather, and to the person who’s holding it.

“Oikawa.” You breathe.

He smiles so warmly at you that you think your heart might’ve skipped a beat. “Let me take you home.”

You fall in step with each other easily. There’s a silence between you, but it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. It’s comfortable, even. And the light hum of the rain fills any void.

You can hear the sound of cars passing as you stop outside your front door. “Thanks for walking me home,” you say, watching the drops of rain sliding down your shoes. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did.”

You don’t notice the significance behind his words as you step into your house, glancing back to watch his figure moving farther away.

The next few weeks take you by surprise. You start tagging along with Makki when he hangs out with his friends. It’s nice. They’re nice. It doesn’t take long before you’re joining in their shenanigans. What surprises you even more is that you’ve started to hang out with Oikawa too, outside of school activities and your newfound friend group.

It’s on a Friday evening when you watch Oikawa sing his heart out at a small karaoke box, and for the first time it hits you how pretty he is. His cheeks are flushed rosy. The sleeves of his school shirt are rolled up past his elbows. You finally understand it now. The charming aura of Oikawa Tooru has you in awe.

“What should we do for Valentine’s Day?” Oikawa asks during a quick meeting for student council. The holiday is coming up soon, and all of you had yet to figure out an event.

There’s a pause of silence before a girl speaks up, “We could send love letters.”

He hums. “That’s a good idea.”

“And we can let them be anonymous,” comments another. “Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

“We should deliver flowers too!”

Everyone seems to be in agreement as excited whispers fill the room.

“Alright,” you say. “Love letters and flowers it is.”

It’s the Friday before Valentine’s, and everyone is working hard to get out all the gifts. The idea of sending letters is a lot more popular than expected. There are hundreds of letters that need to be sent out.

There’s currently a pile on Oikawa’s desk, and a tally has started to see how many he’d receive. A bet went around the student council yesterday morning. Currently, Kaito seems to be in the lead with thirty-four.

“Oh, Y/N!” Yui hands you a red envelope with a sweet smile. “Here’s yours.”

“Mine?” you ask, gaze fixed on the letter. “Um, thanks.”

Should you open it? Your nail slides under the flap when Mamoru calls your name. It’s quickly forgotten after you shove it in your pocket. It’s not your priority right now. You have letters to deliver.

Student council finishes making their rounds right before lunch, and with a few minutes to spare. Everyone is lounging in an empty classroom now, waiting for the bell to ring.

“Who do you think your secret admirer is?” questions Mamoru as he sits at the table next to you. His chin rests on his palm, curious eyes staring at the red envelope in your pocket.

“I don’t know.” You glance at him. “Who do you think sent yours?”

The tips of his ears burn a soft pink. “No idea.”

“Flustered?” You laugh as you nudge him with your shoulder.

“No,” he protests, but the clear heat in his cheeks tells you otherwise.

“Whoever it is, I’m sure they’re great.” You hum before you comment teasingly, “Mamoru’s got a secret admirer.” Your voice is loud enough to catch the attention of others, and you don’t miss the flush of Kaito’s cheeks.

“Stop.” He whines. “You do too!”

There’s a giggle leaving your lips as he hides his face.

The day is over so soon, and a long breath escapes you as your feet carry you to your room. You plop on your bed once you set your bag down. You close your eyes as a sigh of relief leaves you, grateful that the weekend has come. You roll onto your side. There’s a curiosity that fills you as you spot the letter sticking out of your messenger bag. You slump up, reaching over to grab the envelope.

You admire the handwriting as you read through it. It’s delicately pretty without being too fancy. It looks kind of familiar actually. You blink. Your eyebrows furrow as you search through your school bag. “Holy shit.”

There’s a reason you recognize the handwriting. It looks exactly like the one on Oikawa’s note cards. Oh. Oh.

You’ve been dodging Oikawa since your little realization. He can’t like you that way, right? It’s all just a stupid joke that he’s playing on you. Stupid is right. You huff.

It had been so easy to do before, but now it seems like he’s everywhere. You can’t help but feel a tinge of guilt at the way his face falls each time you walk away from him. But you’re caught in an escapable situation when you find yourselves the last ones to leave your meeting.

There’s a deep frown set on Oikawa’s face. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.” You’re such a bad liar.

“Then explain why you’ve been bailing on me for the last two weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No you haven’t. You sleep in on the weekends because you binge K-dramas until really late. You barely go out, so you can avoid people.”

You blink, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Am I really that easy to read?”

He exhales, exasperated by your attempts to deflect. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you say, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I should go.”

Oikawa’s heart stings as you walk past him. You’ve done it so many times before, so why does it hurt so much now?

The slam of a volleyball echoes throughout the gym as it hits the wooden floor of the gym. It’s the only sound that he’s been listening to for the past two hours other than his own breaths. He doesn’t even notice the hot tears that trail down his cheeks.

It’s over. If only he had been better. If only he had practiced more. If only, if only, if only.

There’s a painful ache in his chest as he falls onto his knees. He stares at the ground. The taste on his tongue is bitter, and he wants to cry out. Nothing but silence escapes his throat. He laughs bitterly. He can’t even cry correctly.

He doesn’t hear your footsteps as you enter either.

“Oikawa?”

He uses the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. “Go away. Please.”

The rawness of his voice hurts to hear. You slide down onto the ground next to him. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I know you wrote that letter.”

Great, he thinks. You’ve come here to reject him.

“And uh,” you begin, “it was really… nice? Fuck, sorry I don’t know how to respond to these things- You’re crying.” Your hand comes up to hold his cheek in concern as you inspect his blotchy face.

The gentleness in your voice is calming, but he feels so weak. There’s no reason to deny your statement. The evidence is written all over his tear-streaked face.

“I couldn’t,” he chokes out. “I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t better- We didn’t even get to play him.”

He’s barely coherent, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s referring to. The news of Seijoh’s loss spread around the school like wildfire. He detests the looks of pity given to him by his classmates and teachers after that.

You swallow. “You can’t blame yourself for something you can’t control. You did your best out there, I’m sure.”

He doesn’t know that you’re trying to reassure yourself too.

“It wasn’t- I wasn’t enough.”

“You’re enough for me, if that means anything.” You offer him a warm smile as you stare into his eyes.

He feels so transparent under your gaze. His bottom lip trembles as you wipe his tears away. You pull him into your embrace. He’s bawling his eyes out into your sweater, and he’s sure that he’s gotten snot all over it. How do you make him so vulnerable?

But he’s comforted by your words. They’re so sincere, and the most heartfelt thing you’ve ever told him. They’re not the kind of sweet that’ll make your teeth ache, but rather like honey: a more subtle, soothing sugar.

You pull away, and he instantly misses your warmth. “You know, I can kind of relate- not to volleyball, sports aren’t my thing, but feeling like you’re not enough. Yeah.” You let out a breath. “I get that. I felt so inadequate next to you. You’re like everything I’m missing and more.

You’re great at volleyball and you get perfect grades- you even manage student council on top of that, and I always hated how people were just… drawn to you. I even hated you for a while. That was dumb, huh?”

He holds onto your hands like you’ll disappear if he lets go. “I’m sorry. I’m such a dick for rubbing it in. It was just a stupid competition.”

“Don’t be.” Your voice comes out so soft. “We’re friends now.”

You sit on the floor of the volleyball court with him until the evening runs into night, and the sky is no longer orange bleeding into blue. You both forget about the letter, the can of worms that he had opened. You’re just two friends enjoying the company of the other.

You start telling silly jokes just to get a laugh out of him. He appreciates it. He appreciates your kindness. He appreciates that smile of yours that seems to be just for him.

You’re sitting on Oikawa’s couch with him for an Unsolved marathon. But for once, he can’t keep his focus on his beloved show. His gaze is fixed on you. There’s a thick blanket covering you, and he watches as you grip it closer to your body. His eyes trail down to your mouth. Your plush lips are slightly parted before you begin giggling at Ryan’s shrill screams.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, and he wishes that you would stop doing that. He doesn’t get why you feel the need to hide yourself, when in his eyes, your beauty is incomparable.

“What?” you ask him once you realize he’s staring.

Can I kiss you? He coughs, turning back towards his T.V. screen. “Nothing.”

It’s on a frigid March night when you find Oikawa standing at your doorstep. He’s breathless, and there’s a slight flush in his cheeks from the bite of the cold. You try to pull him inside, but he stops you.

He exhales. “Can I tell you something?”

“Can’t you tell me inside?” You frown. “You’re freezing.”

He pulls you down onto the step with him. You wonder what’s on his mind as he reaches his hand out to yours. His touch is slow, tentative. They finally connect. And it’s like they were always meant to.

Your heart feels so inexplicably full. You let out a slow breath. His lips look so pretty and soft to touch. When did he get so close? Are you the one who’s leaning in? You’re unable to tell as your lips touch.

It’s almost as though you’re pouring out a piece of your soul on a platter for him, wrapping your heartstrings with his. Sharing breaths and a want that could finally be acted upon. Kissing Oikawa is like letting out a sigh of relief as you step into your house after a long day. It’s as easy as breathing.

You pull away, watching and analyzing him down to the subtle twitch of his mouth.

He’s staring back at you, gulping. There’s a blush color that dusts his cheeks. He’s nervous. Oikawa gets nervous? You decide it’s a good thing as a confession tumbles past his lips like he’s uttering his final words.

“I’m so in love with you.”

The words are so terribly honest. They aren’t sweetly dripping from his lips like honey. They’re like a dive off a cliff; a terrifying jump into something that could either kill you, or be the only thing you could never regret. But he says it with so much conviction.

You lean your head on his shoulder and hum. Your eyes are closed, unsure if you can say it back. Maybe it’s the raw honesty in them that scares you. Do you let him see your heart bleed? See you cry and ache and break right in front of his eyes? See you stretch yourself thin for others, and leave nothing for yourself?

It’s as if he knows of the ferocious storm brewing through your head. He plants a kiss on your temple. It’s a gentle reminder that he’s there. It’s okay. I can wait.

You’re grateful for him. For his warm hand, his kisses, his love.

“Oikawa?” Your voice comes out so quiet that he wouldn’t be able to hear you if it weren’t for the proximity between you.

He brushes his thumb over your knuckle. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you.”

He brings your interwoven hands up to his mouth, pressing light pecks on your skin as he mumbles, “I should be thanking you. I don’t know how I’d be if you weren’t there that day.”

You smile as you bring your free hand up, crossing your fingers into a heart; a silent declaration. He lets out a breath, smiling as he mimics you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips before they meet yours again in a hasty kiss. He kisses you so fervently that it has the moon and stars yearning for the same touch. His kisses are completely consuming, leaving your head spinning. His thumb traces the outline of your lips when he pulls away.

You look down with a giddy smile. He loves you.

The cold air nips at Oikawa’s skin. He’s standing outside your house, watching his breath blow from his mouth as he waits for you. He looks over at you when he hears his name off your tongue. Why does it sound so nice from you?

He sees you rub your hands in search of some friction. Your hands are bare, and he scolds you for not wearing gloves. You don’t own any, you say. So he wraps his gloved hands around yours. You smile at him, and he thinks that he’d do anything for you.

You’re staring now, and a faint crimson appears on his skin. He’s glad that it’s cold out. “What?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.”

He buries his head in your shoulder. The warm scent of you fills his nose. “Y/N-chan,” he whines out, “you can’t just say things like that.”

He can feel the vibration of your laugh, and the way your fingers card through his soft brown hair. “Pretty Tooru.”

The smile that grows on his face is genuine. Though Oikawa would argue that all his smiles are, but he, too, knows that his most sincere ones are your doing. He takes you to his favorite cafe. You’re the only one he’ll share it with.

You make him feel so warm.

“Argentina,” you echo.

“Yeah.” Oikawa scratches the nape of his neck. He’s going to pursue a career in volleyball there. It’s his dream.

It’s so far away, you think. “Oh.” You swallow hard. “When are you leaving?”

He pulls you in for a tight hug, mumbling the words against your skin. “In a few months.”

You haven’t even been with him for that long, and he’s already leaving soon? Your heart aches, but you put on your best smile and kiss the top of his head.

“I won’t be the best boyfriend.” His voice is choked. “You can break up with me if you want.”

You can’t see his face, but you can feel his tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “We still have a few months together.”

You see him off when the day comes, of course. There are no teary eyes or passionate grand gestures—the kind you only experience in a K-drama—as you face each other at the Sendai Airport. The both of you keep your composure, but the façade is hard to keep up with when it sets in that this will be the last time you’ll see each other for a while.

But for something new to begin, something else must end, right? At least, that’s what you tell yourself as Tooru leaves for Argentina as your friend while your heart is begging for more.

The warm smell of coffee and baked goods hits your nose. There aren’t many people in the café today, to your relief. Hanamaki orders a coffee so sweet that it has you wondering whether it actually has any coffee in it. You’re sure it’s ninety percent pure sugar.

After waiting for a few minutes, you finally receive your beverages. You take a sip of your drink, sighing in content.

“You’re gonna be there, right?” Makki asks, stirring his coffee.

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“His game.”

You shrug. You don’t have to ask who he’s referring to. “I don’t know.”

“You should.”

“Would he even want to see me?”

He scoffs. “You’re kidding. Dude won’t shut up about you. He misses you.”

He misses you.

The thought brings warmth to your heart as you take another sip of your drink.

Oikawa does ask about you. He asks almost every time that they talk. Though the two of you are still in contact, it’s mainly birthday and holiday wishes over text. Makki’s slightly tired of it, wishing that he would just get the guts to talk to you himself. He’s almost offended, really, how much he asks about how you’re doing and not him.

The two of you had moved to Tokyo after graduation. You for university, and Makki for… whatever he was doing at the time. He’s been “in between jobs”. At least, that’s what he replies with each time Oikawa asks. Makki won’t deny that he’s crashed on your couch more often than not.

“You’re well and single” is what Oikawa gets from Hanamaki. Oikawa tells him he didn’t have to add the last part, but everyone and their mother knows that he was curious. He’s surprised you’re still single, but also relieved.

She said “no one felt right”.

Would he feel right?

Oikawa lets out a long breath as he stands on the floor of the court. He’s still in disbelief. The years of dedicating himself to this passion has finally led him here: at the fucking Olympics.

His bright eyes scan the crowd as he’s shoulder to shoulder with his teammates. Their loud cheers ring in his ears. The familiarity is there, but this time it brings a new rush. He’s made it.

It’s in that moment that his eyes meet yours.

There’s strength behind them; a confidence built from the ground up. That’s new, but your gaze is still every bit as soft as he remembers. A shaky smile makes its way onto your face before you blink, a look of recollection present in your features. You whip your hand up out toward him, fingers crossed in a heart. The smile on your face morphs into a grin as you laugh, nostalgia lacing through your heart.

“Go win!” you mouth to him.

He grins, mimicking your gesture. He mouths back, “I love you too.”

You only nod, but it’s enough for him. He knows things won’t be easy. Time hasn’t been on his or your sides before, but he’s willing to take it step by step with you.

#im FREE omg- time to read romancing (hi issy)#hqradiostation #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq fluff #hq angst #hqpromptlyyours

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kreidewaltz · 3 years

Text

top of the castle | t.k.

pairing. tsukishima kei x f!reader

about. your only goal is to be on top of everything. every change he gets, he pushes your buttons and does things that stirs something inside you. it's totally not your heart beating wild in your chest.

word count. 6.3k (this is my baby)

genre & warnings. fluff. angst. swearing. sky castle and highschool au. lots of swearing. happy ending. parents are kind of a jerk. subtle pining. enemies to lovers. bestfriend!kuroo. film major!tsukishima and y/n.

author's note. ik i posted this super late but here it is!! this is part of the promptly yours collab by issy :D ty for being understanding kisses you !? this is my first time writing an e2l go easy on me pls :( quick overview: sky castle is a neighborhood for the rich, and they do everything to be ahead of the other families! big thank you to @rintsuru for beta-ing this mwah i'll edit some stuff here tomo :') reblogs & feedbacks are appreciated ty <3

part of the promptly yours collab ✪

“during the dinner, entertain the guests, and kaa-san will be proud of you.” your mom says whilst brushing your hair multiple times. she sends you a threatening smile in the mirror which forms annoyance in your mind, yet a fake smile ghosts your lips. you clench your fist on your pockets, fingernails digging hard into your palms. last night she came to your door, unannounced, and mentioned that she’ll be having a private party after sending your applications to SNU Medical School.

“time to relax after working hard, a reward too for the parents.” you recall her saying, while running her fingers on your head before she shuts the door. the excitement evident in her movements when you hear the repetitive clicks of her heels. you play with the hem of your pajamas as you mimic your mother’s voice in distress, huffing after while you cross your arms on your chest. if she sees you roll your eyes or heave a disappointing sigh, expect a lecture about manners that'll go on for a few minutes.

when you entered middle school, she started to be strict and always repeated that you’re “only going to be successful when you’re on the top of the castle”. the metaphor she often forces in your mind—enjoying your success and growing money. watching other people force their way to the entrance, but this is where her persona morphs into something sickly sweet. she uses her shit ton of money to compromise, and those people leave as if they never disturbed your castle. in her eyes, you’re the embodiment of an independent, hardworking, and stepping on others kind of student which is something you want to erase.

“sit straight, act interested, act modest—”

“bring down the rivals, except kuroo.” you cut your mother off while a subtle smirk appears on your face, running your makeup brush on your powder blush before putting it to your cheeks. she stops for a moment, the silence makes your palms sweat on your school blazer, but relief washes over you when she murmurs okay, good. the moment is interrupted when your dad screams on the other side, assuming that he’s finding her and checking the table set-up for approval. she gives your shoulder a harsh squeeze before leaving you alone in your room, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“bring down tsukishima.” raising your brows, you try to keep yourself sane because people saying his name irks you. his stupid voice and looks down on you just because of the height difference. he looks down on you when he’s done harm to you years ago, and to the Hara family. when the school year started, you had no clue that he attended Yongsan School for Seoul. his presence immediately annoys you to your bones and when he talks, you have the urge to tape his mouth and watch him struggle and enjoy that he’s suffering. when he enters the room, you almost stand up from your seat and protest but you keep your lips shut. attempting to bottle your resentment and continue with the basic introductions and orientations for the school year.

what he did in middle school is the main factor why you resent him.

“your highness!” he yells as soon as you enter the classroom, sending tsukishima a sarcastic smile before you sit comfortably. you try your best to not be grumpy at eight in the morning. good thing that the teacher isn’t here, or you’re in for another lecture about that you should get along and be humble with your classmates.

lame lame lame.

“yeah, i’m a princess hm!” you point a finger at him while you put on a grumpy expression before putting your hands on your waist. huffing a few seconds later, you look through your bag and prepare your cute notebook and pencil. you begin to check the schedule for the day on the first page before reviewing the past few lessons, skimming it with attention that you mentally practice yourself, and clench both of your fists in excitement when you got the right answer. you cross your legs while checking your notes, eager to start the day because you're feeling productive, and seeing the stamps of stars on the first page makes you ecstatic.

“hara y/n, did you hit tsukishima?” your teacher’s voice is stern which scares you, but what frightens you is your mother hearing about the issue. you fiddle with your fingers as you rub your eyes, desperately trying to hold the tears threatening to fall. you and tsukishima are left alone in the classroom, with the teacher sitting across from you. the beautiful sunset view from the window is giving you temporary solace, releasing a sigh before answering.

“no, sensei! he- he hit me!” your voice unintentionally going higher, not realizing that you’re getting defensive. you stand from your chair and stare at him, fuming with anger when you see the smirk forming on his face. the teacher sighs in disappointment since he knows you’re one of the top students this year. your attendance streak is all green, never missing a day. what they don’tknow is how your mother forces you to always go to school no matter what happens, that school is the only path to success.

i hate tsukishima, hmph.

“she did, sensei. you saw her holding the book.” your patience is on thin ice because he has the audacity to lie in front of the teacher when he knows he did it. he slaps the book against the back of your desk and you feel the impact on your shoulders, resulting in a high pitched scream and break the momentum of your classmates writing and your teacher narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head in displeasure before writing on the blackboard. then you hastily grab the book he's holding and about to throw it on his desk but gasps echo on the room. from their perspective, you're about to hit tsukishima with his book while he's looking across, focused on the discussion that's interrupted.

"you hit me with the book!" frustration slowly seeping out while you bounce on your desk angrily. your pigtails get tangled which fuels your irritation. life likes bad boys, you thought while mocking him by copying his expressions, forgetting for a moment that your teacher is watching you make faces on your own. tsukishima waves his hand, fisting his other hand to put it in the pocket of his purple jacket. the loud bell rings and ends the discussion, and you sulk on your seat while he prepares his things. your teacher walks out of the classroom to call your mom, you assume, because of the way he takes a glimpse at you while holding his phone to his ear.

i don't want to go home.

“i didn’t do it!” you keep repeating the same sentence as you set a foot in the house. your small hands clutch the strap of your backpack tight, agitated on what she’ll have to say on what happened. your teacher called your mom and had a quick discussion while you bowed to your mom before going home. the awkward silence caused you to grab your backpack and stand behind her, looking down on your shoes to distract yourself. when the both of you entered the car, she didn’t spare you a glance, even on the rearview mirror. the good thing is your favorite song is playing which soothes your worries temporarily. but the car ride was mentally exhausting and your nervousness kept boiling in your chest.

"the one time life is well! and you had to do that." sitting on the edge of your bed, disappointment and frustration join forces in your head while you clench your fist tight. tears trail down your cheeks freely and you have to grip your shorts so you wouldn't explode. hearing her sigh loudly makes you look at your hands to distract yourself from thinking while you sniffle quietly to yourself because your mom tells you to mask your true feelings with other people.

"i'm your princess! i didn't do it!" bouncing on your bed to defend yourself while she doesn’t say anything. she goes to your study table and grabs some of your books and pens. you looked at her in distress, tears forming in your eyes, since your mom's punishments are something you avoid if you have the chance.

“ah long time no see! come in!” your mom cheerfully greets when you see the Oikawa family entering the house, bowing down in respect with a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. he acts like a prince charming when he bows, trying to charm your mother. she acts as if she’s swooned by his alluring smile before she rushes the family to enter the extravagant room, eyeing oikawa while he fixes the buttons of his school blazer. you and oikawa had a while you’re flipping the pendant of your necklace, the loud banter on the stairs a few meters away gets your attention.

“oh! kuroo looks dashing as usual!” she clasps her hands together, the gold rings on her fingers clashing and creating light noises which only you could hear. after they pick up on your mother’s voice, kuroo abruptly stops arguing and casually puts his right hand in his pocket. his mother gives you a soft wave and pecks your mother on the cheeks. you’re not in europe. the thought comes to mind while they chit chat. his father comes to the dining table, leaving you with kuroo for a few minutes. you extend your other leg in the front, putting your hands on your waist, and when you catch his monotone gaze. kuroo looks to the side while the tip of his ears slowly become red.

“ah! i’m glad our parents are okay.” you whisper in front of him while you pat your cheeks and put on your serious expression because your mother always tells you to act elegant when there are guests. a sympathetic smile appears on his lips, knowing why you changed your face in seconds—because you have a reputation to hold.

“mhm, okay talk to you later.” he says before lightly bumping your shoulder with his fist which you return with the same force while a smile dances on your balmed lips. the both of you don’t notice his mom’s gaze softening because of your brief chat.

“yuuji! you should’ve brought your vest!” your mom giggles when she hears the voice of the Terushima family. her covers her mouth with her hand (also her way of showing off her accessories). his mom’s voice is pretty loud so you hear her clearly when they’re on the stairs. a childish whine leaves his lips while his almond eyes begin twinkling in excitement seeing the grand decoration on the entrance. “oh hi y/n! pardon me, and yuuji.” his mom is always enthusiastic and humble.

you raise a brow when you notice the piercing on terushima’s ears. “you pierced?” you point a finger at his ear before the smirk on his face grows, knowing that you’re not allowed to get pierced or tattooed under your parent’s household.

“yeah, you want one?” he leans in with a teasing smirk on his face and slowly licks his bottom lip, and you get a glimpse of his tongue piercing. a tsk leaves your lips before you push him away with your clenched hands. your mom intrudes in your conversation and pulls you to her chest. your mom’s thoughts about you not listening to her and actually getting piercings are running like a hamster on a wheel. his mom covers her face with the palm of her hand, thinking that she won’t get used to terushima bragging about his piercings and possibly influencing his friends to get one. your mom giggles about him and repeatedly pats his back, escorting the Terushimas to their seats at the table—a long and wide one she bought for this day, and a few hours later, the cleaners will struggle to put the furniture back on the basement.

“ah n/n! wait for tsukishima, alright?”

your mom waves her fingers with a smile plastered on her face, leaving the entrance in your hands. going rebel sounds intriguing but you decided to go against it. you intertwine your fingers together and put them behind your back, walking around back and forth along with an occasional twirl because the black skirt whirling is satisfying for your eyes. annoyance bubbles in your chest when she mentions his name, and the fact you’ll escort them all the way to their seats at the table. relief courses through you when she picks their seats further away from your vision.

good, i can’t stand his golden eyes at—

“dear y/n, always elegant like her mother!” your dad mentions while the food is being served. the maids delicately hold the plates even though the appetizer only consists of green leaves, a drizzle of oil and other vegetables mixed in. a confident smile comes to your face while the boys giggle along with their parents, knowing that they nudge their waist to go with the flow and attempt to be your parents’ right hand and be their disciple. kuroo kicks your feet under the table while a subtle smirk on his face, and before you could misunderstand his intentions, he eyes the other parents then quickly rolls his eyes after. the clanking of the plates and forks begin to ring your ears and you immediately connect the clues on what he likes to say.

look at them, trying to get on your parents’ side.

you lightly slap his knee with your foot to get his attention, and you successfully do so while not realizing that about to take a bite of the vegetables. while kuroo thinks about embarrassing himself, again, despite that your parents and the other boys are lost in their own conversations, you take a big bite of everything that’s on the plate, not noticing your mom’s stern gaze on your figure. when he’s finished fixing his hair, he raises his brow while you cross your arms over your chest, nodding in defeat while rubbing your forehead, mimicking those disappointed adults you’ve seen in dramas. he covers his mouth while his eyes crinkle, controlling the laugh he desperately wants to let out. you massage your shoulder for a moment because it’s getting uncomfortable but you have to keep your act—act like you have your shit together in front of the guests.

“oh! oikawa-kun, how’s the japanese lit for you?” initiating a conversation between your rivals while the parents reacted quietly to themselves, as if they’re going to witness harsh exchange with words until emotions overtake your head. this is the sky castle, you think while straightening your posture, satisfied when you get a glimpse of him jolting on his seat before putting on his charming facade and entertaining your question.

“easy peasy! bet i’ll get a perfect score.” he runs his hand through his hair, fixing his school blazer and acts mighty with the other people around.

terushima begins to tease him by making faces to push oikawa’s buttons, and you tap your mouth with the tissue before dropping the bomb and witness his face morph to dread. “you know that i check the papers too, right? you’ve got three mistakes already.” bring down people so you can walk forward, you think while oikawa’s eyes are large like the globes you use for geography class. you loosely intertwine your fingers as you press your cheek on your palm. your mom peeks at you, amused, at your actions that she fights the urge because a smile is threatening its way on her deadpanned face since the beginning of the dinner. the other parents whisper to themselves, especially Oikawa’s parents who look at you with distaste occasionally when they talk. the maids are astonished with your attitude since you're a sweetheart, in the time where your mom is out and does her daily shopping to further decorate the house.

as the dinner continues, you're mentally patting yourself on the back for doing a great job to keep your castle undisturbed. you didn't notice the blonde fighting the urge to smirk to himself because it's the first time he witnessed you being brazen. he takes a big sip of the water, stretching his hands and resting it on his back as he catches your eyes which widens his smirk. resulting to strengthen your rage—and the fact that you're enjoying how attractive he looks.

ugh, let's get this over with.

“what? never expected me to be on top?” a condescending tone laces your voice as you cross your legs, the exhaustion you carried throughout the dinner is dissipating when you rest your back on the chair. feeling a certain pair of golden eyes piercing your soul, you intentionally ignore the sweating of your palms and curl your toes inside your shoes because you keep moving as long as you feel his eyes focused on you. the sassy persona you’ve worked hard lasting long is crumbling, as if tsukishima is taking his time to disassemble the pieces.

“finally we’re away.” terushima whispers to no one before running his fingers on his hair. all of your parents settled on the tea room as your mom calls it to chit chat and relax for a few hours and you know she'll subtly brag about your achievements in school and the furniture around the house that are only available to the rich she quotes.

"away from our parents who force their dreams to us? hell yeah." oikawa added before stretching his neck, the table erupting into laughter because what he said is the truth.

"hey! too mean." narrowing your eyes at him and seconds later you realized how contradicting you are. you scold the brown haired for being mean (when he only said the truth) yet you call oikawa earlier on the dinner for having three mistakes on the test of film studies. the silence stopped you from saying something further so you sit back, looking at the lights and decorations hanging on the wall so you won't embarrass yourself further.

we're even i guess, oikawa whispers under his breath before looking at you, his smile not reaching his eyes. you slap your cheeks while you're looking hard at oikawa, not noticing how the blonde plays with his fingers before looking at you, his eyes glimmering of mischief. since tsukishima knows what pushes your buttons and he always uses it to his advantage.

"stop the good girl act. you feel that way too, idiot." he cleans his glasses with his vest while his eyes narrow and look at you. as you look up and stare at him, you’re perplexed seeing him without his glasses and get amazed on how golden his eyes are. while your arms are flat on the table, his words earlier came back crashing on your head. good girl.

“good girl act, huh? why? you want me to be a bad.. bad girl tsukishima-kun?” you retort back quickly, and you’re pleased with your counterattack since hearing low whistles and gasps beside you fueled your ego. you raise your brow with a mocking smile on your lips to taunt tsukishima even more, intentionally ignoring the repetitive beating of your heart. you felt kuroo kicking your ankle under the table but you dodge his kick since you didn’t want to be bombarded by his remarks because you know he’ll never let you forget about this moment.

“and what if i do, princess?” he raises his brow in return, resting his chin on his palm while cocking his head to the side, amused with your response but he wouldn’t let you know that. you’re obviously dumbfounded, hating the way he uses that nickname casually in a conversation. the uneasiness you’re feeling doesn't go away when you feel eyes on you, eagerly waiting on what you’ll have to say. you clear your throat and you’re about to say something when-

“okay! y/n you got ice cream?” terushima jumped in the conversation before the tension rose on the table. at first you’re bummed when he cuts you off suddenly but you’re glad because you’re not going to talk to tsukishima after this. nope, you keep repeating to yourself. you nodded and led the way to the kitchen, slapping your cheeks lightly with your fingers to snap out of it.

“y/n, suck it up and do the first move.” kuroo murmurs louder to mortify you before taking a bite of the ice cream from the glass, his smug expression makes you want to punch him right there. you playfully kick his chair while you mindlessly mix the spoon on the glass, the ice cream melting as time ticks by.

“what- i’m not- you jerk!" their eyes fall on you since your voice tends to get loud when you defend yourself, and you forget about that while kuroo annoys you on purpose. you grumble shut up under your breath, cupping your cheeks while a frown takes over your face. you angrily grab the scooper to get more desert, also denying the thoughts running in your mind and shake your head in the process while whispering no, that can't happen!

"you're screwed, my friend." kuroo waves his spoon in front of you and you grit your teeth in annoyance while a frown takes over your face. a part of you wants to give in and admit you’re feeling something for him but you’ll stick on what you’re good at-denying. you pout in defeat and sulk in your seat, your eyes falling on tsukishima sitting in the corner. he’s in his own world, taking a bite of the ice cream and repeatedly tapping his foot on the floor. you assume it’s because of the music he’s listening to because of his tangled earphones put on. when he caught your gaze you turned away a little late meaning he saw you. shame clouded your head and desperately try to distract yourself from him, and look at oikawa acting high and mighty, anything, so you won’t spiral back to your thoughts full of tsukishima.

“the hell!? no i’m fin-” he waves his hands and doesn't listen to your stalling, since he knows you’re doing that to convince yourself and not him. you scowl at him and cross your arms together, chanting to pull it together since you get aggressive when someone’s caught you so you cross your arms together and clench your fists. (you thought you’ll have wrinkles earlier than others because of how much you’re frowning).

“i saw what happened, don’t even.” he cocks his head to tsukishima’s direction with a grin on his face and he knew he conquered victory between the banter. you sent him a sarcastic smile before checking the others chat to themselves and hear the faint laughter of the adults in the other room. your mind starts to imagine what it's’ like to talk to your crush.

no didn’t say that!

“this is fun.” he added, which deepened your scowl and you clearly heard the teasing tone laced on his voice. you roll your eyes playfully while he ruffles your hair, and you’re bummed because you know he is right. don’t pull the bad girl card, he murmurs and twirls the ends of your hair. your thoughts halted when you heard the two words that brought you back to the situation earlier. you hold your breath while stretching your arms straight on the counter, hurriedly thinking of a witty response.

“hey! he looked good…” you closed your eyes quickly then you got a glimpse of tsukishima smirking and the way the nickname, princess, rolled off his tongue is making the tip of your ears faint red and sensitive. where’s the y/n that hates tsukki with all her guts? kuroo whispers and laughs hysterically after which caught the attention of the others. you know he’s teasing you for fun since you two often have light hearted banters. the urge to punch him in the face crosses your mind because there are times he knows and you know he’s right, it’s on you not wanting to admit it. his hand ruffles your hair once again before smoothly interrupting oikawa’s bragging, while your thoughts go on an overdrive in your head.

"miss pres! wait for me!" you stopped in your tracks and waited on the right side when you heard akari jogging to you. a dejected pout appears on her lips. she hangs onto your arm and grips it tight, catching her breath because you didn't wait for her outside after the film classes ended.

purposely digging her nails as her payback, because you didn't wait for her outside after the film class ended.

"damn, it's hard being the best friend of the student council president." she says with a defeated tone while fixing her skirt. your face scrunched up in response before walking together on the hallways. akari begins her rambling about the upcoming output your professor mentioned. you tightened your hold on the folders, frightened that the stack of folders will slip out of your hold since fate can be cruel, you muse while pushing the folders close to your chest.

"i can carry folders too, you know." her laughter echoed in the hallway when she saw your reaction! furrowed brows, a pout on your lips before you hesitantly gave half of the folders in her waiting hands. before you could explain what the folders are, you hear her gasp when she sees the title, in bold letters—CLASS 3 FILM STUDIES TEST RESULTS. she overheard you and the professor and learned that you're also checking the papers because professors trust you that much. akari likes seeing you lose your cool in public so she lifts the side of the folder. though it gets exhausting, you endure akari and her antics since despite her teasing she knows her boundaries. she's a good friend because holding the titles student council president, and top student scares away potential friends you could have. students gossiping about your family and status doesn't make things easier. so when she approached you in the library and blunty said you're taking her seat, you're grateful despite interrupting your study session.

it's safe to say that you didn't give each other good first impressions.

"miss pres, faculty room right?" akari's voice breaks your train of thought and wonders how you didn't hit anyone along the way since you take a few turns before seeing the faculty room.

"mhm."

“kari! let’s go back! i can convince sensei.” you whine quietly and stomp on your feet, you’re definitely ignoring your heart about to jump out of your chest when you see a glimpse of a blonde in front of the faculty room. after the party you held a few days ago, you didn’t pay attention to him and avoided him at all costs because you’re trying to figure out if feeling something to your rival is a big deal or not. you tighten your hold on the papers, a pout coming to your lips while akari is amused on what’s happening right now. she’s clearly not expecting you to go to the other way and avoid confrontation with the blonde.

“he’s there! i can’t face him!” you added and jutted your lips into a pout. in your head, you could roast him with other people because you have a perfect reputation to keep. she sighs for a moment while you stand there, she transfers all the folders in her other hand before smacking you in your arm. a shriek leaves your lips, not expecting your friend to hit you in the hallway. you knew you lose the disagreement when you see her as if she’s saying really? i’m done with you through her face. she puts a hand on her waist while she steps on the floor. a habit of hers that you noticed through time. you fix your hair that’s blocking your sight before nodding your head.

“fine… whatever.” you narrow your eyes and point a finger on her direction, acting like you’re threatening her but it didn’t have an effect at her. both of you silently walk towards the faculty room and finally see tsukishima in all his glory. he’s slightly slouching in front of the door because of his height. you quickly look at the other classrooms, acting as if you never saw him and ignore your heart beating at a quick pace. you’re in front of the room, just behind him and realize how tall he is. he looks back and catches your gaze before he smirks and waves at the professor inside. (they are clearly victims of the good boy facade he puts, you think). akari whistles to herself before going inside and gives the folders to your professor while you follow behind.

“ah thank you y/n! and akari. you can have your lunch now.” you bow quickly and smile before you shut the door gently. you fix your blazer and pat your skirt before going to the cafeteria with akari. on the way she keeps teasing you about how you daydream of tsukishima when you’re in class. she keeps mentioning his smirk when you’re eating and you almost choked on the food, since yes, maybe his smirk is attractive you think, maybe, you repeated.

“how’s life with rich people?” she whispers since she accompanied you to the library because you’re planning your scenes already and what emotions you’ll pick for the montage output. you stopped writing and closed your notebook, and rolled your eyes playfully because you know what she really wants to ask.

“i know you’re asking about oikawa, so go.” you say while crossing your arms on the wooden table, and stretch your back after writing for twenty minutes. on the time you’re working, she’s humming random songs and twirls her pen on the papers she brought, scribbling lines and occasionally add doodles on the paper.

“tsk, at least i’m proud of it.” she comments while you gasp, wondering why kuroo and her keeps forcing you to admit you like him. it wasn’t that you’re uncomfortable, your answer remains the same, you have a reputation to take care of.

“anyway! i heard you were mean to him.” she adds while burying her head in her open book, it’s obvious that she’s bored but she accompanied you nonetheless. you stopped twirling your hair and you processed what she said. how did she know, you lamented to yourself while your brows furrow.

“terushima… he doesn’t shut up. he might’ve mentioned that.” akari massages her scalp while looking at you, she’s attempting to relieve the minimal pain she’s feeling in her head. you continued to write on how the scene will go but your sentences ended in scribbles. you’re terribly annoyed that terushima talked about the party even, it wasn’t necessary, you thought while biting your lip.

“agh! whatever. it’s the truth.” you cried out after contemplating for a few minutes. you lean back on the chair, drinking from your water bottle to hydrate yourself once in a while. you sigh in satisfaction when the cold water goes to your chest, awakening your sleepy eyes. the silence helps you gain your focus and plan your outfit and makeup on the montage, but akari breaks the silence with a question.

“yeah sure.. the truth. so when are you gonna admit that you actually like tsukishima, huh?” akari prompts her elbow while a cocky smile goes to her face. you hum and stopped writing, utterly confused with her expression.

“well i like him but- what?! you and kuroo should be locked away somewhere.” you rambled after realizing her true intentions of why she asked that question. you kicked her foot slightly under the table to get back at her. she hisses slightly while you bow quickly to apologize. you sigh before grabbing your phone and usher akari to take a selfie in the library, even though her face looks funny on the picture, you’ll still keep it. while she looks through the photos you took, you look at the window and many thoughts keep overlapping but one thought stands out. should i finally admit that i have a crush on him? what if he doesn’t like me though? those are the thoughts you pondered on on the way home and the next few months.

it’s been five months since those thoughts spiralled on your head, almost haunting you every night. this day marks the start of vacation, no more school work to do and you’re not pretending to be a good student on campus all year. it's been a few months since you passed the montage output and you remembered how your professor’s mouth is open while watching yours, it boosted your confidence. you picked unrequited and longing which seems two complicated emotions to work on a montage but that’s what you like about it. when you did your shoot months ago, you couldn’t forget the horror on kuroo’s face when he saw the smudged make-up on your face while your dress looked elegant.

you waved him off that time and continued to film the flowers dancing to the wind, the group of birds flying high, and you accidentally filmed tsukishima walking away while the sun hit his direction and it created a warm yet nostalgic vibe. that time he didn’t give you insults or anything but god, he was cocky. kuroo and oikawa noticed how things changed on the two of you, because normally they’d be seeing you going at each other’s throats. but you did your own thing, and you didn’t complain about filming him and instead he saw you giggling to yourself while looking at the camera. the black haired finally connected the puzzles together and came to a conclusion: you’ve come to terms that you like tsukishima.

“i really like him! believe me.” you defended and hugged the pillow laying on the couch. you invited tsukishima to your house to convince your parents that you like each other even though you’ve been together for a few months already. when you often walk with your boyfriend (calling him that still makes you blush), you always see oikawa and kuroo snickering to themselves, and you teased kuroo that he replaced you with another. sadly, your mom didn’t like the idea and she went to another country to calm down, you think. that time you realized where you got your sulky attitude from. your dad acts casual and asks questions one at a time. you’re grateful because you couldn’t handle many questions at once and the accusations you’ll hear from your mom isn’t what you wanted right now. your dad giggles when you act pouty and defensive, while tsukishima bounces his leg to relieve the slight to little nervousness he has, he convinces himself. it didn’t help when kuroo grip his shoulder tight and give a little speech on how to protect you and show how to care.

“she does… unfortunately.” he whispers the last word which infuriates you and hits his head with the pillow lightly. your dad didn’t hear what he said so he glares at you, shaking his head, as if he’s saying not to hit your boyfriend. you pout and cross your arms, and give him the face that’s supposed to threaten people but it doesn’t work for him. (one time, you realized you’re friends with people who have resting bitch faces).

“do you want me to be your enemy again?” you threaten him but you fail because a big smile goes to your face. you fix the hair clip on the back of your head to keep your hair away.

“sure if it means i can see you be angry but look cute.” he retorts back and while you're about to explode, from your peripheral vision you see your dad giving him a big thumbs up and an awkward wink. he sends him a nod and acts cool.

"hmm, now i get why you like each other y/n." your dad comments he pats the space beside him. tsukishima gently rubs your lower back before letting you go, even though his heart is beating wild in his chest. you sit beside your dad before tightly embrace him, relieved of his reaction to your new relationship.

"thank you dad. we'll protect each other, don't worry. you can kick him if he broke up with me though." you whisper the last part so the blonde wouldn't hear you (he's suspicious based on the narrowing of his eyes and the gaze you feel at the back of your head). he pats your back while giggling lightly and stand up. he enjoys seeing you lost in your world and see the genuine happiness glowing in your eyes. this is something he should've done sooner, he thought because all these years you're caged in this house, alone and lonely.

“tsu-ki-shima-kun, let’s go?” you tease him because he once told you that calling him like that stirs something inside him. you giggle and look to him softly, an indirect way of asking permission to loop your arms together. you respect his boundaries, always, even though it didn't seem like it a few months ago. he nods and pushes his glasses, and you loop them while seeing his ears down to his neck go a little red.

“hey, let’s go to the library. it’s quiet there.”

you get out of the house and wave to the idiots (kuroo and oikawa) as you call them before going to the library with him. you had nothing to study for and you knew why he wants to go there, with you, you just know.

this is the sky castle, the place where you bring down people to walk forward. but after thinking about it, walking together with tsukishima doesn't sound bad.

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