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hops-hunny · 3 years

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On Your Marks, Get Set, Go!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5k

Request: @de4d-s0up“36,38,12 for Neville!❤️ fem reader and surprise me it can be fluff or smut OH OK IM EXCITED NOW😌 CONGRATS ON 300 BABES SO PROUD OF YOU<3”

Summary: (Y/n) spends so much time in Neville’s shadow that when she’s brought to the light she suffers from some massive stage fright and forgets her lines (not literally but like this sounds clever and you’ll get it soon. Just fuckin read it, yeah?

Warnings: None! A little angst but nothing too big, just majority fluff fluff fluff!

A/N: Can I just say that I love how well these flow together?? LIKE UGH YOU ALWAYS GIVE ME SOME GOOD SHIT TO WORK WITH!! This was very fun to write so tysm!

36.Admirer

38.Caught

12.“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.”

If you were to ask (Y/n) who was the most attractive guy in the castle, she would 1000% say it was Neville Longbottom. For as long as she could remember, she was absolutely mesmerized by him and with time, he had gone from the adorable little guy she’d see in the hall into a charming young man who she could not be anywhere near. Yes he had a tendency to be a bit socially awkward sometimes but if anything, that added to his charm and if anything that made it even harder to talk to him. She didn’t want to have to face such an awkward interaction on why she was approaching him despite them not being friends nor having any classes together.

So she watched from afar, following him around the halls, sticking close to him whenever she could. It wasn’t in a creepy way however! She just found him to be beautiful and she couldn’t help herself. The more she thought about it she did sound like a stalker but that was such a strong word. And if he didn’t know of her existence could there really be any harm to what she was doing? That’s what she thought to herself as she stood behind the pillar, observing him as he conversed with his friends. Neville was currently laughing at something Dean had said as he shoved Seamus. (Y/n) couldn’t help the smile that was beginning to form at the boy’s laughter. His smile was simply contagious, a ray of sunshine indeed! She sighed to herself softly before biting the inside of her cheek.

“I wish he’d smile at me like that.” she murmured softly as to not alert them of her presence. If only she could speak, say even just one word to him. But alas, anytime she even attempted an utterance of a word her brain would short circuit and she went running the opposite way. It just wasn’t fair! She held tightly onto her books as dust fell from above her head, her (e/c) eyes growing wide as dust made its way into her nose. “O-oh no. Please, please ple-” she was cut off by the exact thing she didn’t want, a loud sneeze. She groaned, training her eyes to the ground in front of her. However if her luck wasn’t bad already a familiar pair of brown shoes stopped right in front of her. (Y/n) quickly snapped her head up looking at the boy of her affections. Neville stood in front of her, searching the pocket of vest for something until he pulled out a pale yellow handkerchief.

“You alright, love? That was some sneeze.” He said, holding out the small fabric to her as he offered her a small smile. She was stunned, Neville was talking to her. She kept her eyes locked with him with a shocked expression mouth agape. ‘Don’t just stand there!! Speak! Move! Do SOMETHING!!’. She slowly began to take small steps backwards, shaking her head ‘no’ frantically as she ran off down the hallway not even noticing she had dropped the little brown leather notebook she always kept on her. The gryfindor boy made a soft frown as he reached down, picking up the book. He flipped it open looking for a name relieved when he found a name on the inner cover. “(Y/n) (L/n), 6th year. Huh, I wonder why I’ve never seen her before?” He said to no one in particular as he walked back to Seamus and Dean who were laughing at the scene that had just played out in front of them.

“Geez Nev, we knew you were bad with women but that’s a whole new level!” Seamus choked out through laughs, reaching a freckled hand up to wipe the tears that had formed in his state of hysteria.

“Yeah seriously! What the hell did you even say?” Dean said, coming down from his laughter. Neville frowned some, shrugging his shoulders as he scratched the back of his head.

“I’ve got no clue. I saw she had sneezed and offered her my cloth and after I did that she just ran off! Is there something in my teeth? Do I smell bad?” He questioned, sniffing at his pits to check for any suspicious odor but found nothing but the smell of his body wash and deodorant.

“No you don’t smell bad. Well no worse than usual that is.” Seamus said with a shrug. Neville rolled his eyes flicking him on the forehead with a scowl.

“You’re one to talk! Your natural scent is smoke and sweat, I don’t wanna hear it from you.” He grumbled out, shifting his eyes back to the book in his hands. The girl was clearly frightened of him, how was he supposed to get it back to her? “I just feel so bad, I don’t know what I did to make her so scared of me. I’ll wait a bit before I give it back to her.”

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And he had done just that. (Y/n) had noticed her journal was missing but didn’t think much of it. She had a habit of losing things and assumed it would get back to her in some way and plus, it wasn’t that important. It was just filled with notes and sketches of the different mushrooms she had found on the castle grounds. Whenever she had a free period or a bit of free time on her hands, one of her favorite things to do was identify rare breeds of fungi and other various plants. And although she had missed doing that, it had only been a week and it's not like she didn’t have parchment. The only thing that was frustrating about that was that parchment and scrolls lacked the same convenience that notebooks had. (she didn’t know why Hogwarts wouldn’t just get with the times. Where were they, Camelot?)However she had faith one of her friends would bring it back to her. (Y/n) didn’t have many which is why she wondered what was taking so long for the return of her notebook.

“Hey guys, have you seen my notebook? You know the little brown one I always carry?” she asked, plopping down on the old worn down couch in the (y/h/h) common room.

“Hmm, nope! Last time I saw it you were carrying it. Why? Did you lose it?” Gwen said as she continued to read her book.

“You’re so bad with keeping track of things. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t on your shoulders.” Marco said, rolling his eyes at his friend's irresponsible behavior.

“Oh come on that was ONE time! When the potion said it’d blow your head off I didn’t think it meant quite literally!” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. Her eyes lit up as she was reminded of a detail. “And besides, didn’t you drink that exact potion afterwards because you wanted to know what it felt like to have no head?”

Marco was silent, whistling as he avoided eye contact with his friend before his eyes landed on a familiar lanky brunette holding a certain little book that had been missing. “Hey, isn’t that the guy you fancy? He’s got your book!” he said, pointing in the direction in which Neville was coming from. (Y/n) gasped, gathering her stuff as she muttered something about ‘being late to class’ but right as she stood up, she was yanked back down by Gwen. “Woah, not so fast track star! How are you going to get your book if you leave?”

“Y-you can give it to me! Tell him you know me. See ya!” she said standing back up but once again, she was yanked back down. “Would you quit it?!”

“No can do buckeroo. You’ve gotta get your book back somehow. Neville’s a pretty honorable guy, I highly doubt he’s gonna give your book to some people who could possibly know you. He’d wanna give it directly to you himself.” Gwen said, still not looking up from her book. (Y/n) let out a defeated sigh. She was right. Neville is the type to make sure to get back a lost item to the person themselves to avoid any chance of them not receiving it. She knew that better than anyone.

Neville wiped his free hand on his pants leg, eliminating the thin layer of sweat that had gathered on it. He was nervous to say the least. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any female friends, it was just that the female friends he did have didn’t look at him like he was you-know-who himself. Since their last meeting, he had thought about the girl a lot. He couldn’t recall seeing her before and he wasn’t the type of person people hated without any rhyme or reason so it baffled him. Someone found him intimidating? That was a new one! Neville had taken the liberty of asking his friends what he could do to be more welcoming for people but they all just seemed to laugh in his face or scoff.

He found the question to be an absurd one for him to be asking too but for some reason, all he wanted to do was be less scary. Less scary and more approachable to the girl so maybe, maybe he could talk to the mysterious beauty who he’d never notice. That was another thing that made him quite angry. In all his years of Hogwarts, how hadn’t he noticed such a rose in its prime? Even in her frazzled state her refinement was more than apparent. She had beautiful glowing (e/c) eyes, the cutest little nose, and two beautiful petals that were more commonly known as lips. Even now as he got closer and she had that same damn look on her face, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on and he had done a lot more than just laying his eyes on girl’s.

“I-I believe this belongs to you?” He said, holding the book out in front of her. However, all the girl did was stare up at him with wide (e/c) eyes and her pretty little lips parted in horror. The girl to her right cleared her throat, nudging her not so blasé

in her action. (Y/n) shifted to her eyes before quickly bringing them back to Neville as she closed her mouth. “Well it’s not that I believe it belongs to you, I know it’s yours. You dropped it when you ran away from me the other day.” He said looking away as he scratched the back of his head with his hand, running his fingers through his luscious locks of brown. “Now that I think about it, that doesn’t automatically make it yours. I’m sorry for assuming! You could’ve been holding onto it for a friend or or-”

“It’s hers. Thank you Neville, that was very kind of you and I’m sure (Y/n) appreciates it. Right (Y/n)?” Gwen asked, handing her the book from the boy's hands. (Y/n) just continued to stare. No movement, no indication that she did appreciate it.

“I’ve always liked you, you just never noticed.” she said softly, continuing on with her intense gaze. Her breath hitched as her eyes almost popped out of her head, both hands flying to her mouth. Not one person spoke, all her friend’s and Neville were just as shocked as she was at the announcement. “No, no, no. Fuck!” she mumbled with a great emphasis on the last word. She quickly stood up, running away making sure to not forget her book this time.

(Y/n) continued to whip and run through the hallway, going as fast as her legs could carry her. She paid no mind to where she was going and quite frankly she didn’t care. Anywhere far away from Neville was good enough. If him catching her behind the pillar that day was the biggest embarrassment of the year, this was the biggest embarrassment of the century. How could she speak so freely, so carelessly? All those years of sneaking around, admiring him from a far were thrown down the drain. Things would never be able to go back to how they were without him noticing her there. She slid down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest as she sobbed loudly. It didn’t matter, no one came to this hallway so she didn’t have to think about what would happen if someone heard her. She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve before glancing at the book at her side. Out of a fit of rage she picked it up, throwing it at the wall in front of her. She watched as the book fell with a thud, pages open to a random observation she had made about a spore specimen.

“I’m starting to think I’m bad luck. It appears as though anytime I’m around, you’ve got tears coming out of those pretty little eyes of yours.” Neville said softly, kneeling in front of the girl. (Y/n) brought her head up, (e/c) eyes staring into hazel ones.

“You...you think my eyes are pretty?” she questioned, tilting her head some as she sat up a bit straighter. Neville reached forward, gripping her small hand in his much larger one.

“Not just pretty, the prettiest. After I met with you that first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about them all night. Despite how horrified you looked at me, they were still the prettiest shade of (e/c) I’d ever seen.” He said, smiling softly at the girl’s flustered expression. “You know I’m a bit relieved to know that you like me.”

“R-really? Why’s that?” (Y/n) questioned, gripping his hand back as he helped pull her off the ground.

“Because, that means you don’t think of me as some scary monster! I was beginning to grow quite worried, y’know?” He said, chuckling a bit. (Y/n) gasped, smacking him on the shoulder a bit.

“Hey! I was not that bad….was I?” she asked, looking into his eyes. Neville bit his lip, looking away from her. “Oh come on! Can you blame me though? I’ve had a crush on you since we were on the train to Hogwarts for the first time. I remember I was so angry that I wasn’t the one who found Trevor for you.” she said, clinging onto his arm a bit. Neville looked a bit shocked at that revelation. Most girls didn’t pay him much attention till around 5th year, had she really liked him for that long?

“Does that mean that this,” he leaned down, pecking her on the lips before pulling away, “Was your first kiss?” He asked. (Y/n) had that same expression she had during the encounter a bit ago however this time, something was a bit different. She gripped his shirt before bringing his lips back down to hers kissing him with feverish intensity. Neville let out a small moan, gripping at her waist tightly as he pinned her against the wall causing her feet to dangle in the air.

(Y/n) was right on something, things would never be the same. But sometimes change was good. That was proven to her as Neville had his tongue down her throat.

#neville longbottom x reader #neville #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom x you #neville x y/n #neville x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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war-sword · 5 years

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the ilvermorny exchange (6)

Part 6 | index | masterlist

summary: you’re an Ilvermorny student, and you’ve applied to the International Magic Student Exchange Program to attend your sixth year at Hogwarts instead. You and your friends are excited to go to school overseas, but a certain blonde prefect has decided to personally make your exchange year suck. You decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. (draco x reader, enemies to lovers, female reader) words: 7,699 A/N: Hi guys! Welcome back! So many people asked me to continue this fic so I decided fuck it lets go. And here we are!!! Hope you all enjoy. Small side note, when I was writing the first 5 chapters of this story I did originally have a side-plot of Alex having a crush on Ginny Weasley. I took those parts out because for some reason I thought it might be distracting?? Or people would think it was weird?? Idk but now I'm putting it back in because the person irl who Alex is modeled after asked me to lmfao. So I've gone back and added those into the past chapters, in case you wanna go back and refresh yourself anyway! taglist: @tragically-cordelia @mhftrs @2pumpkin-pasty @gingerlouisgirl @seriouslynotfunny @clockworkherondale @cherrie511 @songforhema @marvelrose @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy

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“Fucking finally.” Alex smirks at you good-naturedly as you meet her in the corridors between the Horned Serpent and Thunderbird dorms.

“Ms. Angeles had to pin my skirt! It was an emergency!” You reply.

Alex just rolls her eyes, and you head off in the direction of the center of the Ilvermorny castle. “Ugh. I wish Mr. Foxbrair had let me wear the boys outfit,” she pulls at the suspenders of her pale blue skirt irritably.

“At least we have pockets!” You say, digging your hands into them for emphasis. “I think they’re cute.” You spin as you walk, letting the skirt flare out. You and Alex, like all the rest of the last years, are dressed in your formal Ilvermorny uniforms. Blue suspender skirts and white long-sleeve button downs for the girls, while the boys wear cranberry pants and white button-downs. Everyone wears ties with their house emblem.

As last years, you’ve arrived at Ilvermorny a few hours early to change into your uniforms and prepare for the lower years to arrive. You get perform the opening dance at the First Feast tonight, and help younger students find their way as they settle in. But first– you want your wand.

There’s a bit of a line at the counter, which has multiple windows. You and Alex join the shortest one, and you peer over the shoulder of the person in front of you to watch the slender wand boxes fly around as the teachers working the counter summon them from the safe behind.

“I’m so glad this is the last time we ever have to do this. I can’t wait to do magic at home,” Alex sighs.

“Same. It’s so hard having to go from cleaning my room here and then having to do it manually all summer,” you agree.

You and Alex are both startled by a hand clapping down on your shoulders. You both turn to see Chris behind you, laughing.

“Chris! Hey!” You say, grabbing him around the middle in a tight hug. Alex piles on top and the three of you giggle, swaying unsteadily.

“What’s up?” He asks as you all separate.

“Not much,” Alex says. “You look good in those pants.”

Chris poses. “I think pink and red are my colors. Too bad I’m going to look like a giant idiot when we have to dance.”

“Chris, literally all we do is weave between the tables and shoot the streamers out of our wands. We’ve watched it happen for the past six years, do you not know how it goes?” You ask, incredulous.

“You think I pay attention?” He responds. You just laugh and move forward in the line.

Alex gets her wand first and cradles it like a newborn. “Ohhhhh, my sweet baby, I missed you.” She kisses it gently for dramatic effect. You don’t even laugh though, because the second you have yours in your hand, you feel like you could do the same. Holding your wand for the first time in three months makes your nerves come alive and you feel like you could burst at the seams with happiness. Being reunited with your wand feels like being reconnected with a part of your soul.

You flick your wand and gentle wisps of glittery mist come out of the tip and dissipate into the air, making you grin. “I love magic.”

The three of you mill around in the entryway afterwards, greeting all your other friends you hadn’t seen over the holidays. Some of your friends from last year’s exchange trip come over, too.

“What’s up, Y/n?” Kenny asks as he sweeps you into a hug.

“Hey!” You and Alex take turns giving him a hug, and he goes in for a handshake with Chris.

“How was Taiwan?”

“Oh, so cool.” Chris’s eyes glitter.

“Whoa, I forgot you were going there!” You exclaim. “You were meeting family, right?”

“Yeah. So many cousins, so many family meals. I’ve never eaten so much zong zi in my life, dude.”

“Did you go anywhere else?” Kenny elbows him, a sly smile on his face. “England, perhaps?”

Chris just rolls his eyes. “No. Emi only ever sent me three letters, but she was in China visiting her family like I was in Taiwan. What about you guys?” He turns to you and Alex. “Either of you go to Europe?”

“Hell no, Portkeys overseas are expensive!” Alex says. Chris was, of course, referring to her visiting the Weasley’s. Alex had started dating Ginny towards the end of the term in May, shortly after the last Quidditch match. Ron was of course angry Ginny kept dating his friends, but the rest of you thought it was cute. Chris and Kenny look at you expectantly.

You shake your head. “Me neither. Draco was traveling, and we agreed against meeting the parents anyway. It was never that serious.” You give a shrug. It was true, though. Still, when you’d left Hogwarts in June, it had obviously been a sad departure. You’d been a little teary as you hugged goodbye.

“Are you crying?” Draco had asked, sounding both shocked and concerned for you.

“No,” you said grumpily, rubbing your eyes fiercely on the edge of your sleeve.

His eyes had softened and he brushed your hair out of your face. “Come on, you know you can’t lie to me. Why?”

You’d just buried your head into his chest, too embarrassed about being so emotional. “‘Cuz we’re breaking up and I can’t handle it like an adult. Ugh.” You’d mumbled.

Draco pulled you away from him a little so he could whisper in your ear. “Who said we’re breaking up?”

“We’re not?” You’d sniffed.

He’d had that stupid smile on his face that made you want to deck him but also make your heart jump into your throat. “Last I checked, I didn’t break up with you, so, unless you’re the one doing the breaking up…”

“Oh, I hate you!” You’d groaned, but also smiling at the same time. Draco had picked you up off the ground to make you giggle.

“I hate you, too. So stop crying!” He’d put you down and pressed a few kisses on your cheek and your forehead. “Write to me, okay? I promise we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay, we better. Wait, I need your address!”

“Oh, shit. Do you have parchment?”

“No.”

“Uh, okay stick out your arm.”

You’d both been a giggling mess as Draco scratched out his address onto your forearm with one of his fancy Always-Inked Quills, your laughing interspersed with him begging you to be more still and not smudge.

“We’re such idiots.” Your tears of sadness had turned to ones of laughter.

“Speak for yourself!” He’d exclaimed. You kissed one last time.

“Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Draco.”

“Uh, ‘not that serious’ my ass.” Alex says, bringing you back out of your memories. “You were both crying.”

“We were laughing!” You defended. “And it’s true, we only exchanged a few letters. We were both busy and international owl post takes a while.”

“Damn, we all got the shaft from our British wifeys!” Chris complains.

“Aha, not me!” Alex does a little dance. “Ginny is coming for the Exchange this year.”

Chris and Kenny ooh’d. You already knew this, of course. Alex was lucky that Ginny was in the year below. It was unlikely you’d see any of your Hogwarts friends until you graduated, but Alex and Ginny would get a whole other year together.

“Who’s coming for the Exchange?” Sarah had appeared, walking up with Alice.

“Ginny Weasley,” you answer.

“Ooh, fun. Who else is coming?” Sarah asks.

You all exchange glances. “I dunno, I guess we didn’t really know many other people in the year below us while we were there,” Kenny says.

“I don’t think any of Gin’s friends are coming, she probably would’ve mentioned it,” adds Alex.

“Anyone want to go to the inner courtyard to go do some spells?” Chris suggests, changing the subject.

You all agree readily, and head outside. You take turns messing around– levitating rocks, each other, and you and Chris have a mini-duel, ending with his dress uniform completely ruined. Sarah expertly Scourgifies it clean again. Alex and Kenny work together to enlarge a small patch of mushrooms so you can all climb on them. Chris has just discovered they’re great slides when you hear a voice ring across the courtyard.

“WHAT DO YOU YOU ALL THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Everyone freezes, your first instinct being fear. You turn your head, gazing down from the mushroom to see Ms. Bell standing a few feet off, watching you with a smile on your face.

“Uh, nothing!” Kenny calls.

“Hey Ms. Bell!” You, Sarah and Alice chorus.“We’ll put it back, don’t worry!” You slide down off the mushroom and run over to her to give your favorite teacher a hug.

“How was your summer? You need to come visit me and tell me about your Exchange year!” She asks, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Great!I’ll definitely come by to tell you about Hogwarts.”

“Awesome!” She beams. “Ready for your last year?”

“Yes! But also no, I’ll be so sad to leave.” You say, as the rest of the group comes over to say hello. “I’m going to sign up for your new class! the History of Magical Painting and Photography, right?”

“Yes, I’m excited for it,” she says, giving Sarah a side hug. “You should all sign up if you like art, I think it’s going to be lots of fun. I’ve been planning for it all summer.” Sarah and Alice nod, and the others politely say they’ll consider it.

“Alright, I’ve got to go. I’m on Exchange Student duty again.” Ms. Bell brandishes a scroll of parchment, her own dress cloak swishing as she moves. “Fix those mushrooms back before you all leave, please!”

“Wait, which Exchange?” You ask.

“Hogwarts, same as last time.”

“Can we see the list?” Alex asks. “My girlfriend is coming, we just want to see if there’s anyone else we know.”

Ms. Bell unrolls the parchment and you all gather around to read it. Your eyes scan the paper and you don’t recognize anyone else except Ginny– Wait! Your heart skips a beat, and you blink your eyes and grasp the edge of the parchment next to Ms. Bell’s hand, making sure you read it correctly.

Draco Malfoy.

“See anyone else you know?” Ms. Bell asks.

Alex catches sight of your shocked expression and laughs. “We know him!” She points to Draco’s name.

“But… but he’s in our year. He isn’t eligible for the Exchange,” you say softly. “It must be a mistake.”

“Hm, I don’t think so. I remember he was a later addition.”

You’re still staring off into space while Ms. Bell rolls up the parchment. “I really have to go. Would you guys like to come along to greet your friends?”

You and Alex follow Ms. Bell out of the courtyard, still slightly in a haze. Was Draco really coming? He’d never mentioned it to you, while you were at Hogwarts or in any of his letters. And besides, IMSEP rules were really strict; He was too old for Exchange. Alex elbowed you and broke you from your stupor.

“You didn’t know he was coming?” She asks.

“No! I had no idea! Is that like, allowed?” Even as you say it, thoughts are already bubbling into your mind. Draco, here, at Ilvermorny. With you. You’ll get to show him around, go to classes again, you can go on dates on weekends out… You were getting excited. Alex is smiling like crazy and clutching your hand. You can’t help but grin also.

When you get to the front lawn, the afternoon sun is getting lower as the last of the Portkeys come in. Students are arriving in descending order of their grade, so they can get settled into their dorms before dinner. First year’s arrive last, as well as Exchange students, so they can be sorted before the First Feast. You watch a group of eleven year olds go by, led by a teacher and another last year. Ms. Bell leads you over to an open patch of grass where the Hogwarts Portkey will let out, and checks her watch. “They should be here any moment.”

A moment later, there’s a whooshing sound and a group of almost twenty people land on the lawn pretty far away, some of who you can see toppling over as they land hard. “Oh no, we’re too far away!” Ms. Bell begins walking at a brisk pace towards the group.

Alex starts running, obviously already honed in on Ginny. You walk along with Ms. Bell, still not sure Draco will be there. As you draw closer, you spot his bright hair in the mass of people. You start running too.

Draco spots you coming, and looks slightly surprised, but still smiling. He lets go of his trunk and bag to open his arms, and you launch yourself into them.

“Hey baby!” He laughs into your ear as he spins you around. “Are you surprised?"

“You. Are. The biggest. Bastard!” You cry once he puts you down, hitting on his chest with your fists to punctuate your words.

“Ouch! Okay, enough with the hitting!” He’s still laughing though, pulling your fists away. You put up a tiny fight, but he’s much stronger than you. When he lets go you wrap your arms around him in another hug.

“Yes I’m surprised!” You say, pulling back again. You’re not sure if you want to hug him again, kiss him, hit him some more or just look into his eyes. There’s so much you want to do at once. “And wow, I think you got tan when you went to Italy.”

Draco chuckles. “It won’t last long. And look at you! You’ve cut your hair!” He takes his hands off your waist to brush through the strands.

“Yes! It’s a little shorter now. You like?”

“I love it.” His eyes keep flicking across your face and the rest of you like he can’t get enough, and you’re glad to know he feels the same way. He leans down and finally places a gentle kiss on your lips, and you feel like you could explode from happiness.

Ms. Bell finally reaches the group. “Hi Everyone! Welcome to Ilvermorny. Please look around and make sure the person you were standing next to is here, sometimes people do go missing… all good?” She retrieves the used Portkey, an umbrella, from the ground, and waves her wand. Everyone’s luggage vanishes, off to be kept until after the sorting. “Alright, let's go!” We don’t want to get behind schedule, we’ve got lots to do tonight before we get to eat!”

You grab Draco’s hand as you all start the walk back towards the castle. “So how were you allowed to come here? You’re too old for Exchange! How did you convince your parents? How long will you be here?” All the questions that were buzzing around in your head came spilling out all at once.

“I’ll be here all year,” Draco said. “I transferred, I’m not on Exchange. And lots and lots of convincing.”

You really didn’t have anything to say, you were just in happy shock. You smiled to yourself as you looked back at the castle and thought about Draco living there, too.

“I hope you’re not mad,” he said, looking over at you. “Should I have told you?”

“No! I’m not mad, just surprised is all!” You say. “Wow, I can’t wait for you to get sorted!”

“Should be interesting,” Draco muses. “I’ve been wondering how it will go.” The group had reached the castle, and Draco gives your hand a squeeze. “We’ll talk after, okay? You can show me around.”

Ms. Bell marches up the steps and stops in between the large statues of Isolt Sayre and James Steward, where the large group of first years are gathered. She motions for you and Alex to follow her, and you leave Draco behind with a wink. The three of you go around the set of big front doors and enter through a side corridor.

You part from Ms. Bell, and head quickly up the stairs to the balcony under the glass dome on the main rotunda. Alex spots your friends, and you both hurry to join them, muttering apologies as you make your way to the railing– last years get to sit at the front to watch the sorting.

“Hey,” you mutter, sitting down just behind your roommates, Stella and Grace. You hadn’t seen them since you moved in earlier that afternoon. “Guess what?”

“What?” Grace asks. Chris shifts back to be next to you so Alex can sit near the railing and dangle her feet off the edge.

“Y/N’s boyfriend is here.” Alex answers before you can.

“What?” Stella gasps. Grace’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You didn’t tell us!”

“I literally found out ten minutes ago! Sneaky asshole.” You look between Alex and Chris. “He’s transferred.”

“Oh, shit.” Chris looked impressed. “Because of you?”

“Maybe? I don’t know! We didn’t get to talk too much, we were coming in here.”

“Point him out to us when he comes in.” Grace says, looking towards the big double doors. Stella nods in agreement.

A hush falls over the rotunda as your Principal, Joan Rittler, sweeps into view below to stand on the golden knot on the floor, surrounded by the four statues of Ilvermorny. She’s wearing dress robes also, long black ones with intricate navy, cranberry and gold embroidery that swirl gently. Her long dreadlocks are piled on her head in a complicated knot that also has gold accents decorating it. She raises her ring covered hands for complete silence. “Hello, everyone,” she begins. “We are about to start our age old tradition of Sorting our new students. Please remember to remain quiet until the student has chosen their House.”

She turns and raises her hands toward the double doors, and they swing open. The group of first years all shuffle in uncertainty, the older group of exchange students sticking out at the back because they’re so much taller. Principal Rittler ushers them to come further inside with a welcoming smile on her face. Once the blob of kids has made a rough semicircular shape at the edge of the room, the doors close back. You spot Draco near the wall, his eyes scanning the balcony for you, but you’re probably just a bit too far back. You elbow Grace and point to Draco’s blonde head.

“I didn’t know you were dating an albino,” Grace murmurs over the sound of the footsteps below.

You can’t even argue with her. “He’s actually tan right now, if you can believe it.”

“Merlin.”

Principal Rittler’s voice fills the rotunda without her even trying. “Welcome, students. You are all about to be sorted into your Houses. You will come up, one at a time, and stand on this knot–” she gestures to her feet– “and your House will be announced by the movement of the statues. You may then go over and join your new House mates behind the statue.”

“We have Thunderbird, for those with powerful and adventurous souls. Puckwudgie, for the strong and healing of heart. Wampus, for the brave warriors of body, and Horned Serpent for those engaged and scholarly minds. If more than once House wants you, it is up to you to choose, so think carefully.”

You felt a tiny twinge in your stomach at Principal Rittler’s words as you did every year.

“May the sorting begin.” Principal Rittler pulls her wand from inside her robes and conjures a scroll. She steps back off the knot and outside the circle of statues, and lets the long scroll fall open. “Acworth, Ames.”

A tiny girl with thin hair scurries from the middle of the blob and goes to stand on the knot. A few tense moments pass, and then the Thunderbird comes to life and beats it’s huge wooden wings. Thunderbirds all around the balcony burst into cheers as Ames beams and walks over to stand behind the statue.

It goes on like this, down the list. Ilvermorny is a huge school, and between first years and Exchange students there are at least eighty people to be sorted. You lean over and whisper in Chris’s ear. “Kinda makes you miss the fifteen minute Hogwarts sorting, doesn’t it?”

Chris’s eyes go wide as he gives you a deep nod.

You watch as the light changes from yellow to orange through the top of the dome. Two children have more than one statue offer them a place in their House, which always livens up the sorting. One girl immediately chooses Puckwudgie, while the other boy starts to cry before finally choosing Horned Serpent. You hope he’s not wrong, and make a mental note to try and find him at some point during the first week.

Finally, all the first years are done, and it’s time for the Exchange students. Principal Rittler turns her scroll over to the back side. “Álvarez, Jose!” A tan boy steps onto the knot and is immediately made a Wampus.

When Principal Rittler calls out “Malfoy, Draco,” your heart starts to go double time, like it’s you getting sorted all over again. You lean forwards to look between the bars of the railing, and you can feel Chris, Alex, Grace and Stella all watching you as much as they watch him.

Draco steps out onto the knot. There is no movement for a second, and then, three statues come alive at once. The Puckwudgie raises his arrow up, while the Thunderbird beats its wings. The crystal set into the forehead of the Horned Serpent glows, and it twists its neck around.

Murmurs are heard across the rotunda. You’ve seen threes happen only twice more in your years at Ilvermorny. Twos are much more common, and fours almost unheard of. Everyone is watching with bated breath to see which house Draco will choose, but you have a feeling you already know.

When Draco walks over to join the group behind the Horned Serpent statue, you scream along with Stella and Grace. The rest of your House is the loudest it’s been all night.

Several other students go, and then it’s Ginny’s turn. Alex is gripped by the same anticipation as you as Ginny strides out of the group and onto the knot. She’s made a Thunderbird, and Alex whistles loudly for her.

You grab Alex’s shoulder. “Did you guess right, too?” You yell over the other Thunderbird’s raucous applause.

“Uh-huh!”

You and Alex high-five hard.

Finally, the sorting comes to an end. Another set of double doors opposite the main ones open into Ilvermony’s Great Hall, and the newly sorted first years rush inside to receive their first wands. While the wand choosing doesn’t take nearly as long as the sorting, it’s another round of waiting the upper years have to endure. There’s lots of traffic going down the two staircases from the balcony to the main floor.

“Aw, guys, that was our last sorting!” Stella pulls a face and puts her hand on her heart.

“So many lasts,” Chris adds.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” you interject. “This gets to be our first time leading the dance and the songs!”

“True.”

You finally emerge at the bottom of the stairs. You intend to try and find Draco, so he can know where to sit, but your Head of House, Ms. Angeles, is collecting last years at the back of the rotunda. You and Alex exchange an annoyed glance as you make your way over.

Ms. Angeles is attempting to count everyone, but gives up. She rests the tip of her wand on her neck and clears her throat. Everyone stops talking, lower years still filing into the Great Hall peer over at you all as they walk. “I sincerely hope that after six years you know how this is going to work!” Ms. Angeles’s voice sounds extra loud.

Next to you, Chris grimaces.

“If you don’t, stand behind someone who does and follow them. Four lines, please! And do not stand next to your house mates!”

Alex grabs you, and you in turn grab Chris. Grace and Stella follow you anyway as you make your way to one of the four lines forming. “Think again if you thought I’d listen to a single order Angeles tells me this year,” Grace mumbles.

Ms. Angeles evens up the lines until she’s satisfied. Through the open doors you can see that most everyone has taken a seat at the many tables, first years closest to the walls, with a cluster of empty tables in the center of the room for the last years to sit at. The edges of the room are fraught with excited conversations as eleven year old’s hold and compare wands for the first time, unable to contain their excitement. Ms. Angeles leaves you to take her seat at the staff table, and you all wait as the last few people sort themselves out. It’s then you notice Draco sitting all alone at one of the empty tables. He’s picked one on the edge so he blends in with the sixth years at the tables nearest to him, but it’s still a sad sight. You cover your mouth with your hands, not sure if you want to laugh or cry.

“Aw, Draco!” Alex notices, too.

“That’s literally the saddest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Stella comments.

“We have to go over there after, oh my God,” you giggle, tearing up. All your emotions from the past hour– seeing your friends again after summer, Draco suddenly appearing, and remembering you’re doing this all for the last time– are coming to the surface in a weird mix.

“Babe! Are you crying?” Alex turns around and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“No! I mean, yes, but… I don’t know, there’s too much happening right now!” You sniff, flicking away the tears that cling to your lashes. “Ugh! Okay, let’s go.” You pull out your wand and bounce on the balls of your feet, ready to get the dance started.

There is some whisper-arguing amongst the four leaders of the lines, and then they set off skipping, starting to clap in time. The two center lines wind their way back and forth between the tables through middle, while the outer lines go along the wall.

“We stand as one united,

Against the Puritan.

We draw our inspiration,

From good witch Morrigan.”

The students sitting down continue clapping while you all sing. Your line turns when you reach the staff table, and you begin to skip in the opposite direction of the other lines. Most of the first years sit at their tables and listen to the song, watching with excitement. Older students reach out their hands and you give them all high fives as you pass. Across the hall, Draco catches your eye, smiling as he watches you dance. You grin back as your classmates sing about Ilvermorny, the supreme wizard school, and green streamers come out of your wand as you twirl around.

After a long and satisfying First Feast, you jump up from your table to go find Draco. After the dance, you hadn’t been able to make your way to sit with him. Alex was also unable to find a seat near Ginny, and so you’d both suffered through the meal away from your partners. But now that it was time to go back to your dorms, you had the chance to find Draco and not be separated again.

As everyone exited from the hall, you squeeze your way over through the crowd. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He grabs your hand to keep you together.

“I knew you’d be Horned Serpent” you say, following your House mates out of the hall and towards the west staircase. “Did you pick it to be with me, or because you felt it fit?

“Many reasons,” he says. “But I will have you know I read up on Ilvermorny this summer and did think about it before I got here.”

“Really?” You’re impressed, but also that’s such a thing he would do. Draco doesn’t like unknowns.

“Of course. Got to be prepared, right?”

You don’t say anything, and instead just enjoy a moment to yourself gazing at his face. “Wait ‘till you see our common room, it’s so fun.”

You climb up several flights of stairs until you reach a large wooden door that’s covered in a grid of carvings. The door is already open, letting the steady stream of students through. “You get in my tapping certain squares in a pattern,” you say as you pass. “We’ll find it out from someone before tomorrow. And I want to take you around.”

As you enter the Horned Serpent common room, you turn to Draco to see his reaction. The Horned Serpent dorms are located in one of the five big turrets of the castle, meaning the construction leads vertically rather than horizontally. The common room is a the bottom, a large circular room with chairs, couches, and three fireplaces on the walls. Piles of books are all over the floor, separating clusters of chairs near the fires or windows, so people can study or talk in groups. Your favorite part of the common room though is the ceiling– perhaps hundreds of chandeliers, ranging from the largest one in the center to tiny ones the size of cups cover the room in a soft glow. On opposite sides of the room are entrances to the different dormitories, and you drag Draco over to the left one.

“This is to the girl’s rooms, I want you to meet my cats!”

“Can I go in there?” Draco says, unsure.

“Duh.” You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t be taking you if I couldn’t”

You lead the way up a spiral staircase. You stop on the second landing, which is semicircular, and lead Draco to the second door.

“Hey.” You poke your head inside. Grace is already laying on her bed, reading, while Stella is at her desk struggling to open an ink bottle.

“Hey,” Stella and Grace answer in unison. “Did you bring him?” Grace asks, marking her place and closing her book.

You nod. You step into the room and pull Draco in behind you. “These are my friends, Stella and Grace.”

Draco looks back and forth between the three of you for a moment. “Are you guys… sure you aren’t related?”

Grace laughs and you sigh. “People get us mixed up all the time. Our hair looks the same from the back. But other than that we all look different, I’d say.” Your first year at Ilvermorny had been a tough one for teachers. Stella and Grace being your roommates, they were also your first friends, so you all had to endure lots of “Grace! No, er- Y/N!” “Actually, I’m Stella,” in any class and around the hallways. As you’d gotten older and the three of you had changed around your haircuts, it had gotten easier.

“Congratulations on Horned Serpent, Draco,” Grace says as Stella continues to struggle with her ink bottle. “It’s lucky you got to pick. So did Y/N.”

“Yes, she’s told me about it. And you all, too. Er, do you want a hand with that?” Draco asks as Stella slams the ink back onto the desk in defeat.

“Please.” Stella grabs the bottle and silently offers to toss it. Draco nods and catches it deftly with one hand, cracks it open in one go, and throws it back to a bewildered Stella.

“Show off,” you mutter, bending down to look under your bed.

“Hot,” Grace corrects. “You picked a better one this time, Y/N.”

You choose to ignore this comment. From under your bed, you pull a fat grey cat. “Draco, this is Benedict, one of my cats.” With Benedict’s massive body balanced against your chest, you reach onto your bed and scoop up a much smaller black cat with huge green eyes with your other hand. “And this is Sophie.” Now that you’ve woken the cats up, their voices start to filter into your head.

‘Who’s this?’ Sophie questions, sniffing the air.

‘Mom, I don’t like it, he smells different!’ Benny starts to squirm in your arms.

“Settle down,” you say, clutching Benny tighter to you. “And be nice! This is Draco, I’ve told you about him.”

“Ahem, your cats?” Grace interrupts. “They’re my kids too now, I looked after them for you while you were gone.”

“Fine, our cats.” You hold Sophie out to Draco. “Here, she wants to see you.”

Draco takes Sophie from you with some hesitation. You wrangle Benny in more securely now that you have both hands. ‘Oh, he’s warm!’ Sophie closes her eyes and starts to purr. ‘I see why you chose this one.’

‘Mom NO! Sophie don’t, he seems strange! Don’t trust him!’

“Don’t be rude!” You scold. Benny continues to writhe in your arms so you put him down, and he runs over and jumps onto Grace’s bed.

“Hah!” She says triumphantly.

“He’ll come around,” you assure Draco. “But for now Sophie really seems to like you, she’s always been the friendlier one.”

‘More like reckless!’ Benny meows allowed, but only you understand what it means.

“Be nicer to your sister!” You say to him. He sulks back and hides behind Grace.

“What are they saying?” Draco asks, intrigued. He scratches Sophie under her chin and she purrs even more.

“Benny says you smell and Sophie says you’re warm and I made a good choice.”

Draco laughs, which disturbs Sophie a bit. ‘Ah, he can be loud though! I’m too hot now. I want to keep napping.’ She leaps from Draco’s arms and back onto her little hollow in your blankets.

“It seems like they’re done. Let’s go on a castle tour.” You move around Draco to go back out the door. Stella and Grace chorus goodbye as you whisk Draco out again.

As you re-enter the common room, Draco stops you. “Can I find my room first? I want us to be able to take our time and I want to know where I’m going when we get back.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. My bad.” You start to blush with embarrassment that you’d forgotten. “Want me to go up there with you?”

“I think I can manage.” He gives you that stupid crooked smile and you immediately realize you’ve been a little clingy.

“I’ll wait down here for you when you’re ready,” you say as Draco disappears up the stairs. You settle into one of the chairs to wait, swinging your feet over the side. Several more of your House mates pass, including Alice, who gives you the pattern for the door. After what feels like an eternity, Draco reemerges from the boys dormitories looking pleased.

You close the book you’d pulled out to pass the time. “Are you with anyone you know?”

Draco shook his head. “No. You know Gao and Will very well?”

“Which Will?” You chuckle as you get up. “There’s at least 5. And Gao’s real name is Will too, by the way. We just all call him Gao.”

“Brilliant,” Draco sighs. “Also no. He’s got brown hair and green eyes if that helps.”

“Nope, two of them look like that.”

“I give up.”

“I’ll find out tomorrow and give you my opinion.”

You lead the way out of the common room and into the halls. “Where do you wanna go first?”

“I don’t care.” Draco takes up your hand. “Your favorite spots.”

So you take Draco around the castle. Ilvermorny is massive, and you show him little shortcuts along the way when you can. You take him to the halls where all the seventh year classes are located, and down to the hallway where Ms. Bell’s new history classes are taking place and halfway convince Draco to sign up with you. As you go through the halls, you greet all the statues you’ve come to know over the years. Ilvermony’s corridors are filled with enchanted sculpture, some small, some lifesize, and others so massive they require their own small rounded spaces and are situated in the middle of hallways. You take him to see your favorite, called Lady Lightfoot, whom everyone affectionately calls Lucy.

You pull Draco into her rounded hallway room, one side of which has huge windows that look out onto the East Lawn of Ilvermorny. Linda has long locks of flowing hair and is sculpted in a sheer dress. She’s in her true sculpted position, resting against a rock, when you enter.

“Hi, Lucy!” Your words echo in the empty room.

Lucy turns away from gazing out the window at the sound of your voice. “Y/n! What a lovely surprise, I should expect one of my favorite students to come and visit on the first night! And after such a long time, too.” The two of you walk to stand in front of her, and Lucy’s pale marble face beams down at you. Her stone locks fall about her face as though they were as soft as real hair. “Who’s this?”

“Lucy, this is my boyfriend, Draco. He’s from Hogwarts.”

Lucy gasps so loudly both you and Draco jump. “Boyfriend! My, you leave me for a year and come back with an English beau? And he’s handsome too!” She leans down to get a better look.

You laugh, and start to blush again. “I’m just showing him around.”

“How lovely,” she sighs, clasping her hands together. “I’m so glad you’ve opened your heart up again, Y/n.”

You draw in a short breath. This was not a subject you wanted to broach tonight, and take this as a cue to get out before Lucy spills anything else about your embarrassing lower year self. And why did everyone keep bringing it up?

“We’ve still got lots to see, but we’ll be by tomorrow. Bye!” You drag Draco to the exit and keep going down the hall. “Okay, I’ve saved the best for last. Come this way.”

At the end of the hall, you find a wooden door to the left of another big window. You tug on the door–it’s always a bit sticky– while Draco gazes out across the lawn.

“The Quidditch pitch here is huge,” he says, sounding impressed. “Much bigger than Hogwarts’.”

“Oh, yeah definitely,” you grunt, giving the door one last hard pull and it finally comes open. “That’s what we’re going to look at, but the view is better from up here.” You usher for Draco to follow you into the door.

It leads to a short set of stairs which have a trapdoor at the top. Draco closes the door at the bottom at your instruction, and you light your wand to see in the darkness. The trapdoor is easier to open, and you climb up and out.

You come out on a small landing, a circular balcony with a roof just big enough for four people to sit or stand. Draco emerges from the trapdoor and you firmly shut it behind him. “So this is what those tiny little turrets are,” Draco says.

“Yep, there’s little places like this all over the castle.” You use your wand to blow a few leaves and dust off the floor of the balcony. “Some are permanently closed, but others you can get to. This is the one my friends and I use. Mostly people use it for smoking, but I like the view.”

You join Draco in leaning against the railing. “You can see the pitch, and that building is the creatures barn, where all the magical animals live.”

You watch the sunset over the trees for a few moments before you feel Draco staring at you. “What?” You say, looking over.

Draco pushes off the railing and leans back against one of the pillars holding up the roof. “I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

“I’m the one waiting?” You put a hand to your chest in disbelief. “I brought you up here.”

Draco opens his arms up. “Come on.”

“No.” You smirk.

Draco’s mouth drops open. “Stop being difficult, Y/n!” He pretends to sound aghast.

“I’ve never been difficult in my life,” you say airily, turning back to look out across the trees. Draco comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his chin on top of your head. Your heart flutters in your chest with excitement. Draco reaches a hand up to brush your hair away from the side of your face, and you feel his breath on your ear when he dips his head down. There’s nothing you can do to stop the involuntary curl of your toes when he presses his mouth to the sensitive part of your neck, and your resolve is immediately broken.

You twist around in his arms, and your noses brush together as your lips meet in a much anticipated kiss. An entire summer of waiting comes to the surface immediately, and you’re pulling each other close with an almost desperate need. You hadn’t forgotten how well you fit together and the wonderful ways Draco could touch you that made you dizzy with desire, but it was nice to have a refresher.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you say unevenly between kisses.

“Me too,” he responds, just as breathless.

After several long minutes of heated kissing, you end sitting on the floor in Draco’s lap, his fingers tracing patterns along the sides of your thighs while you catch your breath.

“I know how much you like Ms. Bell, but Merlin if I wasn’t angry I couldn’t kiss you like that when I first caught sight of you.”

You let out a soft laugh, and press a kiss to his forehead. “So tell me, I want to know the story of how you ‘go here now’.”

He lets out a sigh and looks off to the side, fingers still trailing across your legs absentmindedly. “I was so tired of Hogwarts. My father always wanted to send me to another European wizarding school, but mum wanted me closer to home. I told them about how all the Exchange students from America took much more useful and interesting classes and how schooling abroad looks impressive, and after a few weeks I had them convinced. Mother was annoyed I didn’t just apply for Exchange last year, but this way I won’t get behind in classes like everyone, because I’ll graduate with you all here.

Obviously I chose Ilvermorny because you’re here. But if you’re worried about this being some grand romantic gesture I was expecting you to return, that’s not it.”

You nod, taking in everything he’s said. You brush a finger down the line of his neck to his partially unbuttoned shirt collar. “I did wonder about that. But those are good reasons. Ilvermorny is superior, anyway,” you smirk.

“Good,” he says, running his entire hand over your leg now. “I thought you might be mad that I came without telling you, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I know you do like a little romantic gesture.”

“Thanks. I really think you’ll like it here, too. I meant it when I said I’m glad you’re– hey, stop that! I’m trying to talk!”

Draco’s slid both his hands under you skirt, making you gasp. You grab his wrists and put his hands back near your knees while he laughs.

“You know, it won’t be as convenient as it was at Hogwarts. We both have roommates now, it won’t be like when we could have your Prefect’s room all to ourselves all the time,” you say.

“Yes I know, which is why I’m trying to get a head start.” He grabs one of your hands, brushing his fingers across your open palm.

Suddenly you feel a bit shy. “I hope you don’t regret transferring. It’s a lot different here than Hogwarts, and my friends can sometimes be a lot sometimes.”

“So I’ve gathered from Alex and Grace.” Draco flips your hand over and your fingers intertwine together. “I’m sure it will be fine, darling. I’ll make my own friends too, some of yours are bound to be obnoxious.”

That makes you laugh again. “I’m sure, especially since Ginny will be hanging around.”

Draco seemed to have genuinely forgotten this because he leans his head back against the railing and makes a face. “God, I forgot about her.”

“Come on, Ginny isn’t that bad! She’s less annoying than Ron.”

“They’re all annoying,” he scowls.

“Now who’s being difficult?”

He reaches out and pinches your sides, making you squeal. “No tickling! Or no kisses!” You warn.

“How about I get both?” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest, kissing you repeatedly on your cheek while he digs his fingers into your sides again.

“Nooooo!” You cry, wiggling around like your cat had earlier. You sucessfully pin one of his arms against the railings and grab his other wrist, your free hand groping at your side for your wand. He’s strong, though, and twists his arm around in your grasp to keep you from reaching it.

You wrestle for a minute, which unfortunately ends with you against the ground under Draco’s iron grip. The two of you never fully grew out of the fighting phase of your relationship.

“At least you can’t tickle me now,” you pant, blowing a wisp of hair out of your face.

Draco eyes are flirting all across your face and down your neck, just like when he saw you when he first arrived. Except it’s different now that you’re alone and pinned beneath him.

“Let me go,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

Draco stays silent and loosens his grip experimentally. You slip your arms out from his hold and instead rest them across his back, inviting him to come closer again.

You might not have Draco’s single bedroom this year, but you suppose the balcony isn’t too bad either.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco malfoy x you #hp imagine #the ilvermonrny exchange

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fyeahspiritofjustice · 8 years

Text

It Was A Short Story Once

chapter: 4/?? author: N pairing: Mumen Rider/Metal Bat summary: The start of something new. Badd’s little sister is a fan of a different hero. He just wants a date. There are monsters in between. A/N: Guess what N is still alive despite all apparent signs and is posting again. As usual, if you dig it feel free to comment in our inbox here or over at AO3!

When he wakes the next morning it’s to a shirt in his face and Zenko’s third sternest look. “Oni-chan! You’re going to make me late!”

He yawns as he manages to sit up, using the shirt to wipe his face. “It’s not that late…” His phone buzzes and sure enough, it is that late. His eyes bug. He trips over the sheets on his way to standing. “Aw shi-” Zenko’s giving him a glare. “-ttake mushrooms. You eaten yet? Got your homework? Is your music packed?!”

A curse is bitten off as his zipper catches the side of his finger. When he looks up, hair mussed, finger in his mouth, pants mostly zipped, he realizes Zenko is standing there with her uniform neatly pressed and bag already on her shoulders.

She hands him one of his protein drinks from the fridge. “Hero Day is in three days, onii-chan! We’re not going to be late, right?”

“Cross my heart,” he promises, taking the drink. “Lemme find a shirt an’ I’ll walk you to the bus, ok?”

It’s as he’s digging through yet another accumulation of clothing on the living room floor that Zenko asks, “You’re still going to wear it for Hero Day, right?”

“It?”

“The shirt!”

“What shirt?” He asks, absently.

“Baddo!”

He straightens at that and looks at her, lost. She points and it’s then he remembers she handed him a shirt.That he’s still holding. Setting down his still unopened drink he unfurls the shirt.

I <3 MUMEN RIDER stares back at him in bright green and yellow.

He’s pretty sure the sparkle were added afterward, considering the way they’re ensuring his hands will have bling for the rest of the day. “Uh…” But when he looks up he sees the look on Zenko’s face and glitterfied or not he can’t go back on his word. “Yeah, of course. Promise.”

The smile he gets is worth the shit Tanaka is going to give him.

It ends up being Tajima who calls him on it, giving his hands a look out of the corner of his eyes. They’re at the batting cages in upper K-City, the ones with the new machines that have three settings and reinforced cage wire after at least two run-ins with mysterious beings.

Badd rolls his eyes at Tajima’s look. “My sister.”

CRACK!

“Uh-huh.”

CRACK!

“For Hero Day.”

CRACK!

“Uh-huh.”

CRACK!

Round over he puts down his bat to give Tajima a look. “From a shirt.”

Tajima just smiles, which manages to make him look half a foot shorter. How that happens, Badd has given up on figuring out. “You busy afterward?”

Badd’s nose wrinkles. “After when?”

Tajima’s face will probably freeze in an eyeroll someday. “Hero Day.”

“Takin’ Zenko to the parade.”

“I mean after that, dumbo.” Tajima pauses as the attendant appears with a new basket of baseballs, giving a respectful nod to the man, before turning back to Badd. “After the parade an’ all that.”

He has to think, rolling the borrowed bat in his palm. “Maybe.” There’s a question coming and he’s not about to commit. Particularly given how he has yet to actually ask what Zenko has planned. “Why?”

A proud smile splits Tajima’s face. “Goin’ to a party at Haninozuka’s.”

“Huh?”

“Third year?” It’s still not ringing a bell, no matter how much Tajima gestures with his hands. “Private academy up the street, big yellow-brown eyes, small-?”

“The Cookie Mascot?” He pops his lip. “You sure he’s a third year?”

The attendant slips out with little more than a flash of his glasses and a respectful bow, closing the door behind them. Badd loosens his collar, sweat pooling at the base of his neck from the encroaching summer warmth.

Tajima just shrugs. “Who knows. Anyway, you in? Bunch of us are going.” It’s when Badd hesitates that Tajima tacks on. “Supposed to be catered, super fancy house, private school girls…”

It’s almost too late that he realizes that he should be more excited about that than he is. Perhaps a few months ago, maybe? His preferences aren’t exactly secret among his close circle (Tanaka included, and by extension Ennoshita). Though he’s never exactly been one to turn down similar invitations. Reputation, after all, was everything.

They both talk at the same time. “Sure./Guys?”

There’s an awkward silence where Tajima brushes his hair back and Badd rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

Badd shakes his head and waves it off. “It’s cool.”

And it is, even if it’s started a cog going. Pieces lodging themselves into a thought, making him well aware of just what his late nights and early mornings have added up to. It’s almost an earthly miracle that Zenko hasn’t caught on. It’s definitely a god-level act of intervention that he’s realizing it now.

Fuck.

Tajima notices even as he picks a bat, swinging it once before deciding it’s good enough. “What’s up with you, man? You’ve been acting...” The batter trails, waving his hand with a loose swivel of his wrist.

“Yeah, just.” He finds himself swallowing, not sure he’s ready to share his revelation with the class. “Been a long week, you know?”

“You failing writing again?”

Which, god bless Tajima, is just the out he needs. “Yeah, you know how it is. No way they even read it all either.” Tajima huffs in agreement and takes a swing. CRACK! A perfect hit to hide Badd’s annoyance and second-hand embarrassment at himself. He clears his throat even as the batting machine spits out another. “So what time?”

When he goes home that night he has more than enough to ruminate on and not enough time to do it. By the time dinner and dishes are done, Zenko’s homework is double checked and the apartment is swept even the clock seems tired, faded green numbers blinking in and out. His own homework lays strewn on the growing mountain of clothes. Try as he might, however, the only thing done is his name on the assignment.

The pencil he should be using to finish an analysis of the night’s reading sits between his teeth, new canine marks in the wood. Enamel grinding away as he simultaneously hates himself for at least two different reasons.

First off, the...crush. He nearly bites through his pencil. The last time that concept applied in his life things ended in a fight that lost the team three bats at the next day’s practice. He’d hated feeling splintered. Fractured like the barrel of his once-favorite practice bat.

(Coincidentally, that’d been the first time he’d picked up a metal bat, but that’s not the point here.)

Would he say swearing off it all was dramatic? Perhaps. But it’d grown from childish melodrama to practicality. Between Zenko and school and work there’d been little room for anything else. Squeezing in another person became a chore quickly and if the lack of socks on his feet was any indication it was that he had enough of those he couldn’t keep up on. Few understood his dilemma. In the end, it was easier to save his nerves and spare someone else’s feelings than expect understanding.

It’s not that he’s inexperienced, he muses. He has...enough to know what he likes. He’s always had a certain jaded charm, a rebel with a cause attitude that draws in a certain type. With fame came the privilege (some would say responsibility) of desire. And he was young and, if he was honest, lonely. It was easy to say yes in the moment knowing there wasn’t going to be a next year.

Which, he liked. Right? Lead taints his tongue and he sinks lower on the sofa.

Easy didn’t always mean preferred. If that was the case Zenko would play something portable and cheap. Like the flute. Or, hell, he’d take a violin at this point. Flings were just that though. Less commitment, less chance of heartbreak, and easier to break away from without investing parts of himself he just couldn’t afford to be left hanging without. Not that he wants that. Wanted that. But it’s been so long since can became should that he isn’t sure he’d even want something that was more anymore.

He doesn’t like to think about just how misshapen that makes him.

Yet even with the one bedroom apartment over his head and Zenko’s well-stocked backpack sitting by the door as a reminder, he still feels as if there could be...more. Which is reason number two: that idealism.

It pops up like a tenacious spring dandelion. Stubborn and insistent. A fighting spirit Badd can admire until it’s standing in the way of accepting what should be an easy existence. Fights, piano recitals, a piping hot dish of revenge. It’s all he wants in life, or rather should be.

Until fucking Mumen Rider.

Mumen Rider, the hero stuck at Class C - Rank 1 permanently. Mumen Rider, the idiot on a bike breaking up bar brawls and B-list villains (and that’s being generous). Mumen Rider, the hero with abysmal stats and yet a universal appeal that suprasses his own. Mumen Rider, the man with…

He falters.

That’s the problem. He doesn’t know about the man. Mumen Rider the hero? Yes. Mumen Rider the H.A. member? Enough. But Mumen Rider the man? Not even the forums can help him there, and he’s tried at least four times with different searches.

Which, come to think of it, is...odd. Even his own high school is listed on the internet. It hasn’t resulted in a rapid increase of recognition, though the further in rank he climbs the more whispers he hears in the hall. It’s not a secret, by any means, but heroes are a dime a dozen, if not less for the high turnover rate the business has these days.

His teeth bite through the last shreds of cheap wood and he curses at the splinter in his tongue.

Shit. That was it. Mumen Rider the hero was just that. A hero. The man beneath the goggles, for all he knows, is boring. Plain. Fucking Haruna for all he truly knew. What happens as a hero wasn’t always a translation to what happens when the mask was off. (He’s never forgotten meeting Sweet Mask for the first time. He likely never will.)

He spits slivers of wood from his mouth. All you’ve got to do is go out with him. Just once. You’ll see. It ain’t gonna work out.

Just one date. He’s always been a decent enough judge of character. One date and he’ll know if it’s going to be something worth the eventual, enveloping reminder later on down the line. Sound logic. He can live with this decision. And with a ‘fuck you’ to schoolwork his eyes slide closed… Only to fly open again ten seconds later.

How the fuck is he going to ask the guy out?

By the time Zenko’s dragging him off the bus for the parade he still doesn’t have an answer. The street is busy with the sounds of bands, noodles frying. Confectionaries that layer the smell of sweet upon sweet. Heroes mingle, some behind booths to promote themselves, others attempting a less overt form of marketing. Cameras ensure encounters are recorded. He can spot at least four Hero Association press people attempting to be sly about their photos. Colorful strings of lights sway in the late spring breeze.

It’s A-City at its finest, but of course it would be. The Association is big on looks. True to form there isn’t even gum on the streets.

“Baddo, come on!” Zenko is pulling his hand. How she got a schedule already he doesn’t know. Her smile is bright though and he can see her best friend waving by the shaved ice cart. “Mina is already here!”

He lets himself be dragged, shifting in his jacket. His own hero duds may be at home, but his bat sits straight and strong against his spine. Just in case. “A’right, a’right, I’m comin’!”

She lets go of his hand in favor of Mina’s, leaving him to shove his fingers into his pockets and chaperone from a distance, lest he be accused of hovering. (He would never.) Two things of candy floss, three bags of popcorn, and a paper cone of soy wasabi almonds later they head off to find seats for the parade. He ignores the looks he gets. He’s used to the coy glance overs and second sneak peeks.

“Hey, Zenko, hold on!” She’s running ahead of him, the bright strains of parade music drifting over the crowd. Did they start early? He loses her quickly in the crowd, leaving him carrying a half empty bag of soy wasabi almonds. He dusts his fingers off on his shirt, adding green glitter to the mix. Two seconds and he's lost her, god damn it. “Can’t see ya…”

“Need some help?”

He’d been reaching for his phone, but that all goes out the window as his body freezes. Fuck. When he turns the phone’s long since out of his mind.

Mumen Rider is straddling his bike, one foot keeping him upright, another poised on a peddle. There’s a few new scratches on his goggles. Badd swears he can see the glint of glass embedded in the rider’s helmet. None of those details he knows he really should know, but there you go.

“Uh…” Score one for not his pride.

Badd knows they aren’t alone, but it feels like it. A part of his brain recognizes parade music, the screaming of a megaphone, the shriek of the crowd. They’ve got Sweet Mask headlining this year with a rare appearance by Tornado and Blizzard together (for the last time if tabloids are to be trusted). A thousand things to look and see and do.

Mumen’s head tilts a bit, enough so that Badd notices then hates himself for cementing in his memory. “Nice shirt.”

It takes Badd a moment to process that. When he looks down, dumbly, it hits and he feels ready to sink into the concrete. Fuck fuck fuck. How bad does it look? Does it make my arms look small? Is my hair ok? His hand goes up to check for fly away hairs. Almonds go flying.

“It’s not like I l-like you or anything.” Fuck. “My sis’ bought if for me.” God damn it, stop talking. “It’s laundry day.”

By now his mind has stopped trying and he’s pretty sure his heart is going to fall into his stomach and dissolve in acid. It would probably be a kinder fate than the slow descent into agonizing mortification happening right now.

To his credit, Mumen Rider doesn’t laugh. “I like the glitter. Green’s my favorite color.” And the man actually gives a smile.

It does nothing to help Badd not stare. “Makes sense. You know.” He waves a vague hand at all of Mumen Rider.

Of course he’d know, why wouldn’t he know?

Mumen Rider’s hands tighten a bit on the handlebars. “Yeah. Listen…” There’s an awkward pause and Badd has to stop himself from biting a nail. “I know you’ve been following me for awhile.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

“I was just wondering if there was a reason?” Mumen Rider is calm through it all, not even raising his voice.

Metal Bat - master of the fighting spirit, hero A-Class 21, the comeback kid, 10th district’s finest flirt and best chance of getting into the championships - would later recount exactly twelve things he could have said that he probably should have said.

Instead, he says in a mad rush of syllables, “You wanna go out sometime?”

Immediately he feels his face go red, though in the delusional state that he’s in he swears Mumen’s pinkens as well. There’s the muddy warble of a tuba blaring that seems to fit Badd’s general state of mind. Really all he needs is a meteorite or a god-level disaster to strike to finish him off.

Thank god Mumen takes away the question of who’s supposed to speak next. “Look, you seem like a nice guy.” Mumen shifts. “And I’m flattered-”

Badd knows where this is going. He’s given this speech himself and he can’t say it’s any easier to be the one hearing it. Every almond he’s eaten sits like a rock in his stomach. “But what? I’m not your type?”

“You were kind of stalking me,” Mumen says with a frown.

Badd notes he didn’t answer his question. “Followin’. Not stalkin’.” Because only weirdos did that.

“Because you heart me?” There’s a twitch of Mumen’s lip and Badd finds himself reddening again. “I’m flattered, truly. Your work is impressive. You’ve got a passion for hero work, Metal Bat-san, and an inspiring gift.” And if that doesn’t immediately plaster itself to the inside of Badd’s rib cage he doesn’t know if anything ever will.

But this is still a rejection and no matter how he feels about praise there’s still the end of that sentence to get to. He tries not to let his disappointment show. “But ya ain’t interested. I get it.” He shrugs, trying to keep the roll slow. A hand sweeps his hair, leaving soy wasabi powder. “Not your thing." And he gives him a look. "You're not one of those pro-family people, right?"

Mumen's hands go up. Fast. "NO. No. Gods, no. Just..."

So it's him then. "Right. Forget I said anythin’, ya?”

He’s ready to bail on this conversation entirely so he can go lick his wounded pride in the anonymity of the crowd.

But Mumen isn’t moving. “It’s…” Aside from in front of a camera, it’s the first time he’s seen Mumen flustered. “Not that.” (It’s a confession drawn out, rusty in use.) Mumen has a hand at his neck now, fingers curling. A deep breath in. “You’re just a kid.”

And Badd stops short of saying anything at all. “Huh?” Because if there’s any word he’d use to describe himself it’s never kid. It hasn’t been for nearly ten years. It’s a title that has his hands suddenly making fists and a defensive wall a mile long springing up.

Mumen bites his lower lip just enough for Badd to hate that he notices. “You’re, what, sixteen?” Badd refuses to give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer. “You’re too young.”

“Too young for what? ‘Love?’” He hates himself for actually doing the air quotes. “A relationship? Think I don’t know what I want? I ain’t that young, you know, and I don’t need the likes of you assuming that just because I’ve got a few less years that you’ve got this better idea about what I ‘need’ to be.”

“It’s not…” Mumen starts, trailing helplessly. “You dropped that.”

Which has Badd confused until Mumen points to the ground. The rest of Zenko’s soy wasabi almonds litter the ground, wax paper flapping in the breeze. Mumen is staring at him and he stares back, not sure if he heard that right. “Excuse me?”

“You dropped that. And the cleaning crew worked through the night to make sure the streets were clean for today.”

He’s incredulous, until he remembers the first time they locked eyes and the four way intersection and the intricacies of justice displayed in the way Mumen Rider considers himself very much a part of. It’s part of the charm that has Badd even here to begin with, wearing this shirt, even asking this stupid question. Which means that...

Oh.

“You’re not just givin’ me a brush off, right?” Mumen actually looks a bit hurt so Badd clears his throat. “So when ya say I’m too young…”

“Right now.” Mumen licks his lips. “You’re too young for me right now.” Justice rests against Mumen’s hips as he holds his hands up, anticipating a comment. “Come back when you make S-Class and we can talk then.”

A tick then two goes by as Badd processes this. “I might never make S-Class.”

Mumen just smiles a bit. “Not sure that many papers and that many people could be wrong.”

Which is also true. He’s already in A-Class, and there are betting pools regarding if he’ll be one of the few heroes to make S-Class in less than a year of hero work. “All right. When I hit S-Class then.”

Mumen Rider’s shoulders slump a bit in relief. “Could you do me a favor until then?”

“Depends on the favor.”

“Would you stop following me? It gives the wrong impression.”

Badd can’t help himself. “In case you haven’t heard, I’m king of makin’ impressions.”

“Doesn’t saying that negate the validity of that claim?”

“Ain’t a claim, it’s fact.”

Mumen huffs lightly. Badd swears there’s a smile in there. “Either way…”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Badd waves off the conversation, wrist settling on his hip. “Could take a lesson from me, though, ya know.”

Mumen’s other foot stops idly moving on the pedal. “Is that right? And what would you teach me, Metal Bat-san?”

Badd’s grin is toothy. “Lotsa things. But mostly on makin’ a splash. You’re a hard guy to find.”

Which he feels like Mumen does know, from the single shoulder shrug that gets. “Seems a made an impession on someone." Badd can feel his face reddening as Mumen glances at his shirt. "But you're right. I don’t really like the publicity. There are others more deserving.” Badd frowns a bit, but Mumen’s phone buzzes and the cyclist fishes it out to flip it open with a thumb. “I’ve got to go.”

That also surprises him, considering his own phone didn’t ring. It couldn’t be the Association. Yet another question to add to his growing list.

“Yeah, sure.” Not that Mumen needs his permission to go. Mumen gives him a polite nod and pushes off. He watches, then calls after him, “You’re gonna say yes, right?”

Mumen just looks over his shoulder and gives him a thumbs up, making him wonder if the cyclist even heard him at all.

Wax paper crumples under his foot as he turns. Lifting his shoe, he scoops it up and turns it in his fingers. All he’s got to do is make it to S-Class. It can’t be that hard. Right?

As the paper finds a bin and almond dust is wiped off on his jacket, he hears his name being called.

“Badd! Badd!”

Looking up he finds Zenko making her way toward him, Hero’s Guide in hand. “You’ll never believe who I got!”

“Probably will,” he quips, bending his knees so he can look over Zenko’s shoulder and properly admire each new signature in her Hero’s Guide.

By the time he’s replaced the lost almonds, listened to three speeches by various Association officials, and stood in line to get Child Emperor’s signature, he’s had enough of Hero’s Day. His skin itches and he's restless. Zenko, however, is ecstatic and that's enough to curb his complaining.

The mood comes back, however, hours later at the promised party. True to reputation, the Mitsukuni Mansion is a study in grandeur. A sweeping front drive, finely manicured lawn, and butler at the door are certainly nothing Badd’s every grown accustomed to. The grandiose chandelier of the foyer and elegant stemware serving sparkling apple juice, it’s a surrounding that should be utterly and absolutely captivating.

All he can think about is Mumen Rider.

The party goes on behind him, a string quartet (a fucking string quartet) providing the night’s entertainment, and honestly if he’d known it was going to be this kind of a party he wouldn’t have come. Even his hero gear feels out of place. A bright smear of red against the elegance of black and white and pastels.

Dancing isn’t normally his thing, much less ballroom, much less being served on literal silver platters. Which is how he finds himself on the overlook, sipping sparkling juice and watching the influx of even more fashionably late individuals flood up the front stairs.

Watch all ya want, it ain’t gonna be him. The juice is overly sweet and his nose tingles from the carbonation. It just makes him all the more restless.

Tajima chooses that moment to make his entrance, arguing, loudly, with Izumi, Mihashi in tow. “I’m just saying, what’s the point of a chocolate fountain if you’re not allowed to dip stuff in it?”

Izumi wrinkles his nose and yanks Tajima’s drink away. “Just because they say finger food doesn’t mean your actual fingers.”

Mihashi, brave soul he occasionally is, attempts to step in. “You can’t deny, having those guys do it for you seems kind of excessive.”

Tajima rolls his eyes, dramatically, then catches Badd’s eyes and grins. “Heeeeeey, Badd! This is where you disappeared to! Thought you’d be schmoozing all those ladies in there!”

It’s obvious the drinking has gone beyond cider. His first thought is who’s going to get Tajima home. His second thought is, “You got any left?”

“Any what?” Even buzzed Tajima’s got his senses.

Badd laughs even as Izumi shoots Mihashi a clear look. “We don’t have anything…”

Mihashi looks nervous now (not that he doesn’t usually). Badd takes it upon himself to slap a supporting hand on the kid’s shoulder lest he vibrate out of his skin. “C’mon, Iz, you an’ I both know this party fucking needs it.”

Izumi looks between the three of them, Tajima wiggling his nose, and Mihashi rubbing the back of his neck,. He sighs deeply. “Seriously, it wasn’t from me, ok?” The flask comes out and the drinks suddenly become something far more tolerable. “Why am I always bringing the alcohol? When you gonna chip in, Badd?”

He takes a generous sip of his own drink. “When I ain’t got your butts to save.”

Mihashi stares at his glass, both hands clasping the stem as if it were a lifeline. “Are you sure we should be doing this? It isn’t our house, and if we’re caught Momoe will…”

“We’re fine, we’ll be fine,” Tajima says, draping an arm over Mihashi and leaning in. “Party’s too fancy anyway. Needs something more exciting than a chocolate fountain. Which why are they called that anyway? Not like they want you drinking the chocolate either.”

“Pretty sure they don’t want ya drinkin’ out of the normal fountains either,” Badd points out.

“That is not what you said that time at-”

“Hey, we said we’d never talk ‘bout that again!” A quick flick of Tajima’s nose stops the story - no one needs to relive that, least of all people not there - but has them devolving into a face making competition that ends with Izumi snorting into his glass and Mihashi laughing.

It’s easy, easy to be here giving a fuck all to the noise behind them. To pretend like it’s another party, another night, another remarkably normal moment where the metal bat on his back isn’t the definition of his existence.

“You’re in a better mood,” Tajima says to him, low, as Izumi and Mihashi compare game scores on their phones. They’ve switched now to leaning by the entrance to the house, watching the dancers go by, the music faster though no less foreign. Waiters scurry by, giving them the odd look. “Find someone?”

Badd snorts and finishes his drink. His tongue burns now and he’ll have to walk it off before he gets home. “Said it yourself. All these people here ain’t in my league.”

“You've met all of them?”

“Don't need to.”

Tajima hums. “Got high standards there.”

“The highest.” He doesn’t really, but even now there’s a part of him that isn’t sure how to turn Metal Bat off.

“Know what they say about standards…”

He snorts. “They were meant to be broken?”

It’s not really funny, but Tajima laughs anyway. “You, my friend, break everything.”

Which earns the baseball player a wicked grin. “Haven’t broken you yet.”

“Only because you said I haven’t got a brain to break.” Tajima slugs him in the arm before finishing his own drink, smacking his lips. “Still, those “standards” of yours? Gonna leave you high and dry.”

Perhaps maybe Tajima’s right, a part of his brain suggests. But it’s not an issue, says his heart, because there’s that hazy promise of a date. Just as soon as he makes S-Class. He can wait that long, right?

“Doesn’t matter if it does,” he shrugs.

Tajima squints at him. “So there is someone.”

“Never said that.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“Ain’t bullshitting if I’m not saying anything.”

Tajima watches him for a long moment before looking back to the sea of people. Servers duck and dodge in white and red, obvious among the soft ball gowns and silk collars. Badd can’t deny there are several beautiful people there. But the glasses are stylish and elegant, hair neatly kept.

He hums. “Already know what I want.” He gestures with the now empty glass toward the ballroom of people. “And trust me, it ain’t anyone you see in this joke.”

They’re interrupted by the clatter of a tray. (Turns out, silver sounds just as loud as iron.) Badd moves to grab the serving platter as it rolls by, smooth even with the warm burn in his chest. He’s conscious of all eyes on them as he holds the tray out to the server scrambling to pick up glass.

The server takes it, head down, messy brown hair hiding what his glasses don’t. “My apologies, sir. I didn’t watch where I was stepping.”

“Yeah, ya didn’t.” Zenko would be disappointed in him and he screws his mouth up a bit, ready to attempt something less in your face. He stops at the red tinge across the server’s cheeks, suddenly tongue-tied in an uncharacteristic stab of uncertainty.

“Hey, no worries…” Tajima starts, but the server is already on the floor, sweeping up broken glass with his hands. Another server is already moving in with a cloth. Tajima glances at him and shrugs. “So when do I get to meet her?” At silence Tajima adds, “Him?”

There’s no chance of his answering that. Mihashi saves the day, however, with a particularly awful rendition of the latest K-Pop ballad. It's a less than subtle sign that they’re actually there for anything but the food. It gets them ‘escorted’ out, with more apologies than he’s heard in awhile. They’re not the only ones leaving, as a bicyclist speeds down the drive ahead of them. Though it’s tempting to think of earlier that day Badd instead wrestles the flask from Izumi and the rest of the evening they spend at the school track finishing the flask under the bleachers.

#JusticeSpirit #Mumen Rider #licenseless rider #metal bat #zenko #one punch man #opm #fanfic #it was a short story once

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