aurielle

It completely missed.

What should've been a free point was instead nothing at all. You fumbled, and you didn't dare to listen to the reaction of the crowd. God damn it. What was wrong with you today? That wasn't the first opportunity you had messed up.

Griffindor ended up winning the game by a good amount of points. But when everyone was off their brooms and celebrating the win, you shoved your broomstick against its stand in the wall and left as quickly as possible.

Once you were out of eyesight you pulled off your cap, your gloves, knee pads, throwing them all to the floor in a childish rage. You inhaled through your teeth and exhaled with a shake in your voice, unable to stop tears from welling in your eyes.

You were terrible. Missing all those shots, fumbling plays. Nobody would've guessed you'd been playing since first year.

You weren't particularly interested in pursuing Quidditch professionally. Your mom was a fan of the sport, so naturally you followed down the same path she did. You were brilliant when you were younger. Scoring all kinds of points. But now.. all the expectations had caught up to you. You weren't what you used to be, and your heart ached. You missed the simplicity of playing back then.

You told yourself all the time you didn't care that much about Quidditch anymore, but why else would you end up crying after every match, wallowing in self-pity about all your mistakes? You still liked Quidditch, when you weren't so focused on being perfect.

Your issue seemed to be more than that.

The more your thoughts ran, the faster your tears came. It was everything. Your performance in school was dropping, you were awkward in talking to people, and most of the time you didn't want to do anything at all.

You sank down the wall of the supply closet and ran your hands down your face, allowing your expression to twist into a sob. Maybe you should quit the team..

Oliver walked into the room to grab something from the table when he heard sniffling from behind a half-open door. He paused, laying his broom against the wall before he walked over.

"(Name)?"

You looked up in surprise. Your eyes were red, hair touseled, and your nose was running—you looked an embarrassing mess. In front of your captain, no less.

You swiped your nose with the base of your hand and rubbed below your eyes, but the fact you had been caught was only making the urge to cry stronger. You gave up on fixing your appearance and sobbed again, keeping your sleeve pressed against your eyes.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Oliver's Scottish accent filled your ears as he crouched in front of you. "We won the match."

"It's not that, Oliver." You couldn't stop your voice from cracking. "I just.. I played so poorly."

"Poorly? What do you mean?" His voice was laced with confusion.

"I missed that one shot, I let people past me on defense, I mean.. I looked lost out there, like a complete idiot."

"Everybody has 'bad' matches. But.. if you consider that a bad match, is there any match you consider good?"

There was a bit of humor in his tone, and your frown deepened. He grew more serious, takin on his role as a Captain seamlessly.

"You made incredible plays. Your passes are extraordinary, and you've scored off of brilliant shots before. Forget about your mistakes. We win as a team and we lose as a team, it's not any one person's fault what happens. And tonight, we won."

But it's not just about the winning, you wanted to say, but it seemed he already knew what you were thinking.

"Individual performance is important, too, but you're too hard on yourself, (name). You perform well. You're invaluable to the team."

"You could've managed without me."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. Atmosphere wouldn't be the same, it'd throw everyone off."

Did you really mean that much to everyone? You raised my head a little, sniffling as you judged the sincerity in Oliver's gaze.

"Don't bash yourself over a mistake or two. Pick yourself up and keep trying. That's where the real points come from." He pushed your shoulder. You had to admit, you felt a little comforted. You didn't want to cry anymore.

"There's something else," You spoke up hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"I guess I just.. I have trouble connecting with the others."

"Is someone on the team giving you a hard time?" Oliver said seriously. "I'll talk to them."

"No," you said quickly, not wanting to give the wrong idea. "It's.. me. It's just me, the way I am. I'm bad at talking."

"Well that doesn't make you worth any less. Your communication on the field is good, and everyone appreciates you for that. I personally don't mind you being a little shy, it means that when we do talk it's more meaningful."

Damn that cute smile of his. Now your face was red for a different reason, and you turned away again. Oliver realized what he was saying and cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject.

"Now, come join us in the common room. We're gonna have dinner and celebrate."

He patted you on the shoulder twice before standing up, and just like that he was gone from the closet.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the wall. No wonder he was a Captain. He had that air about him, exactly the one necessary in a good leader. Not only was he extremely passionate for his sport, he was also caring towards his team. Any other House team would be lucky to have a captain half as good as Oliver.

You wiped your eyes one last time before standing up, finally having the courage to hang out with the others. Oliver was right— one mistake didn't determine your worth as a whole. As long as you kept trying, you'd get somewhere. And you did enjoy Quidditch, there were numerous times you found yourself having fun on the pitch. Oliver's encouragement had left a flutter in your chest that gave you a giddy feeling, as if you really were worth something. He had a way of doing that to you, damn his charisma.

You picked your stuff up and hurried out of the closet, rushing towards the common room with a smile on your face.

↣ megumi fushiguro ☆

He doesn't show it, but he secretly likes holding your hand. However, he rarely holds your hand in front of other people. And when he does, he doesn't bring attention to it. Usually it's you who grabs his hand, and he doesn't let go. He only regrets it later, when he gets teased by all his friends.

However, he loves holding your hand while making out with you. He'll interlock his fingers with yours as he kisses you, enjoying how you squeezed onto his hand.

Sometimes he'll hold your hand out of anger, if you can't walk straight. Or if you started to run off somewhere and couldn't stay on track. Overall, he's not physically affectionate, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it, especially if it's with you.

↣ toge inumaki ☆

Since he can't communicate his ideas in verbal language, he relies on other methods to express his affection. So yes, he enjoys holding your hand. Just casually, almost with a slight bit of intrigue and curiosity. Like he was fascinated by the fact you wanted to hold his hand.

He's quietly affectionate, leaning his head on your shoulder. Most exchanges between you were wordless, because he finally came to terms with the fact that you were okay with his silence. At first, he thought he had to try harder. To say something to you. But he soon found out that you didn't care all that much. As long as you were with him, that was all the communication you needed.

↣ kento nanami ☆

I don't see him as a hand-holding guy, but rather the type of person to put his hand on your thigh while you're sitting down at a restaurant.

Discreetly, under the table, almost like an absent-minded habit. He enjoys how your skin feels under his touch, finding a bit of comfort in just your presence alone. Plus, his hands are so much bigger than yours- in public, your normally just latch onto his arm and walk that way.

He'd also rest his hand on the small of your back, especially when you're wearing some sort of dress. Small, discreet hand placement while you're talking to someone, gently pulling you close to him. Sometimes he doesn't realize he's doing it. When you call him out, he just apologizes with a small smile. Although, you figure he's not really sorry...

↣ satoru gojo ☆

He's holding your hand all. the. time. Dragging you along, yanking you by your wrist towards him when he mentions you in a conversation. It's almost like he's bragging. He likes clinging onto you or staying close to you while focusing on something else. He turns off his Infinity, just for you.

He also really likes hugs, squeezing you for comfort. He likes spooning you in bed, and opening his arms with a small pout as he waits for you to hug him. And if you don't comply, he'll whine and complain until you do.

The doors were closed, the natural light from the approaching sunset flooding the room. Megumi tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his eyes closed as he savored the sensation, the sound of your kissing. His face felt hot- as much as he'd claim to be indifferent outside of moments like these, he was truly a mess when you were alone. You made his heart flutter, his stomach churn. He hated how flustered you made him, but he couldn't hide how desperately he needed you.

You reached down to intertwine your hand with his, lightly squeezing it in the process. Your other hand was on his hip, while his other hand was cupped around the side of your neck.

Megumi pulled away, his lips still parted as he looked at your face. He couldn't resist kissing you one last time before puling away completely, stepping back and letting go of your hand.

"The bell's about to ring.." he spoke quietly, turning his head away to hide the blush that was on his face. No matter how many times you two kissed, he still got just as embarrassed as he did the first time.

You reached for his hand as you walked out of the classroom. Megumi hesitated, only taking your hand when he was sure the hallways were empty.

"You're blushing." You nudged him, smirking as you walked hand in hand. Megumi glared. Obviously, you idiot.

"Shut up.." he muttered. You laughed. You really didn't mind, you just wanted to get a reaction out of him. It worked every time.

↣ yuuji itadori ☆

Yuuji would kiss you on every single one of your dates. You'd be smiling, looking at the bowling lanes, when suddenly Yuuji would lean across the table and kiss the corner of your mouth. He'd pull back just as you turned your head, studying your expression as his smile mirrored yours. He loved seeing you happy.

Or you'd be enjoying the view during one of your picnics, and right after you finished eating he'd lean in and kiss your lips. He had already been sitting really close to you, anxiously tapping at his knees as he tried to focus on what you were saying. You were just too pretty. He wanted to kiss you all the time, it was like a tingling desire in his heart. He just loved you that much.

He'd hold your hand every time you guys were walking somewhere. Sometimes, he doesn't even notice that he's doing it. It's pure habit. He might be a little shy to kiss you in front of other people, but he'd never pass up the opportunity to hold your hand. Or kiss your cheek when no one was watching. However, he didn't kiss you too often. He held himself back, believing every moment with you was special. He wanted to enjoy every kiss with you and put some meaning behind it.

When you two were alone, his kisses were soft and loving. His hand would cup your cheek and his other hand would be on your waist. Soft romance was his favorite thing, but sometimes he'd get needy. He'd shift his position to get closer to you, kissing you more roughly than before.

No matter how you'd express your affection or express yourself in general, his love for you remained constant.

bf!bachira who loves showering with you and cuddling after each of his games

bf!bachira who loves spooning and holding you close to him

bf!bachira who presses his nose against yours when it's cold

bf!bachira who thinks your eyes are pretty

bf!bachira who realizes he's less alone now that he's with you

bf!bachira who keeps every little thing you give him, the objects filling up his desk space

bf!bachira who relies on you for studying but gets distracted easily

Meguru Bachira- the boy you had recently become friends with. He was known for having an.. eccentric personality. Nobody would hang out with him. Except for you. And ever since you made the choice to sit with him during lunch one day, he hasn't left you alone. You found it endearing, to be honest. His smile, his laugh, his silly antics. How he would talk to you for hours about soccer. He'd even invited you to play with him once- although you suspected it was really just an excuse for him to show off. You barely touched the ball. The more you thought about Bachira, the more you came to the realization that you wanted to do something for him. You appreciated him being your friend, although you never really told him that. You wondered if it was something more but denied it instantly. The butterflies in your stomach remained. So, you soon found yourself walking out of your apartment and down the sidewalk, gloved hands stuffed in your coat pockets and scarf pulled up to your mouth. It was cold, but not freezing. The sidewalks had been shoveled, so, disappointingly enough, there was nothing for your boots to make imprints on. When you got to the store, you realized you didn't know what kind of chocolate Bachira liked. Did he even like chocolate? You paused for a moment in the sweets isle. Eventually, you decided you were overthinking and just picked something. Who doesn’t like chocolate..?

Soon, it had turned dark outside. Since it was winter, the sun set earlier, so really it was only 7 pm. It had started to snow as well.

You still hadn't given Bachira the chocolates. It was a weekend, so you didn't have the opportunity to talk to him all day. You didn't know why, but you were slightly nervous to text him. You'd never done anything for anyone on Valentine's Day; it was all new to you. You knew Bachira probably wouldn't care, but you didn't wanna mess it up.

Your phone lit up with a text message. It was Bachira.

I'm coming to see you!!

You froze. He was coming over? Right now? You glanced out the window. Was he already on his way? You wanted to give him the gift first, not just have him stumble upon you with it… It was a silly thought, but you were stubborn about it.

So, you shot up from the couch in your apartment and ran outside. The snow fell gently from the sky, light posts illuminating the streets with a golden glow. The sidewalk was covered now, so your boots made imprints this time as you ran. You knew the exact route Bachira took to your apartment each day, so you knew you were bound to run into him. The chocolate box was clutched tightly in your hand.

Sure enough, you spotted him on the sidewalk up ahead. He looked up, his face showing surprise as he noticed you. You didn't slow down until you were in front of him, slightly out of breath.

"(Y/N?)" Bachira looked down at you, his hands in his pockets. He was confused, if anything. Why had you gone outside if he was just going to your place anyways?

Once you caught your breath, you met his gaze and straightened up. He was wearing a scarf and the jacket he usually wore to practice… Suddenly, your mind drew a blank.

"Uhh.. I.." You looked away for a second, clearing your throat. "I got you something.."

Bachira looked down and saw what was in your hands. His face immediately lit up when he realized.

"A gift?!" He seemed excited, leaning forward slightly, studying the box in your hands. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that he loved receiving gifts. Although, nobody really gave him any…

You nodded, speaking quietly. "For Valentine's Day."

Bachira's eyes flickered back to your face when you said that. You were getting something for him? Because of a holiday? A holiday about love?

A small bit of color rose to his cheeks.

You raised the box of chocolates you had gotten for him, still looking away. Bachira snatched them out of your hands, his whole face lighting up. He rose the small box into the air with an energized "Hooray!"

"Woah, don't drop them-" You warned, but he only laughed.

"You really got me something!!”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah…”

Bachira paused in his celebration, suddenly leaning close to you.

“Does that mean we’re…” he said quietly. “..Lovers?”

You were immediately caught off-guard, your face twisting in surprise. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it made you flustered either way. Bachira straightened, waiting for your response.

“I.. I mean..” You tried to regain your composure. “If you wanna be my Valentine..”

Bachira’s eyes widened in joy. “You want me to be your  Valentine?”

“Why not?”

“Yes...!” Bachira threw his hands in the air, clearly happy at the thought. “I’ll be your Valentine! Ooh, I’ve never done this before! What’s it like? Do we go on lots of dates?”

You chuckled, looking away nervously. “We could…”

“And do we buy sweets for each other and cuddle and watch movies?”

He sounded so excited, it almost made you sad that it seemed so foreign to him. You were surprised he was cutting straight to the chase and being so forward about it. You didn’t even have to confess anything.

“Yeah, we can watch movies.”

“Yay!!!” The way he was swinging the chocolates around made you worried they would fly out. But he just seemed so excited. He threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you off-balance. But you caught yourself and eventually wrapped your arms around him as well, albeit gentler.

“My valentine~” He smiled.

Bachira had this funny feeling in his heart. His chest fluttered when he was around you, he always wanted to impress you. He’d show off during soccer, amused that even the simplest trick could get you fascinated. He constantly had an arm around your shoulder, occasionally holding your hand. He’s always had the urge, he just wanted your approval. He was scared of rejection, but you always validated him. While others would think him annoying or overbearing, you always found it endearing. You wanted to be next to him. Even when Bachira forgot to buy something for you after he said he would, you still loved him. Even when he’d constantly beg you to watch his games or come to his practices, or even invite you over for the sole purpose of watching soccer, you’d always agree to see him. Bachira was glad you didn’t leave him like other people did. He was truly, completely head over heels for you, and it made him want to be around you even more. He wasn’t lonely anymore, he had found you. And he knew you wouldn’t leave.