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heliads · 3 years

Text

Some Small Comfort

Based on this request: “reader is having a really bad day for no reason and Draco comforts her and one of the ways he does is kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her so she can bury herself into his chest”

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The wind is wild around you. It’s a cold, blustery day, and anyone in their right minds would have stayed firmly indoors, bodies turned instinctively towards a roaring fire in their common rooms. However, you are decidedly mad, and instead perch here in the creaking wooden stands, green and silver scarf wrapped around your neck as if the few feet of woven yarn will do anything to keep you warm.

It’s not like you’re alone, though. Hundreds of students are packed in around you, banners of emerald and sapphire being waved frantically through the air at opposite sides of the stands. It’s time for a Quidditch match, the semifinals of the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup. Your own beloved Slytherin is playing against Ravenclaw, who despite being stronger than the past couple of years is being steadily crushed by the swooping and soaring forms of seven green-cloaked players. Your cheers are ripped from your throat by the wind, joining the collective cacophony of the school as you all watch in awe.

“They’re going to win. No doubt about it.” You glance over your shoulder to see Pansy Parkinson. You and Pansy have not always been close friends, and the most you have in common with her is the house you share. She’s overly critical of the fact that you’ve been known to hang around with Potter, Weasley, and Granger. You’re a touch too haughty when you compare yourself with her. If you’re supposed to spend time with people who make you a better person, you’re not entirely sure you’ll find that same company with Pansy. That being said, there is a certain rush in being able to say what you want about whoever you want and share gloating laughs with another girl clad in viridian. It’s always a little more fun to pretend to be the villain, isn’t it?

You flash Pansy a grin. “As if there was a chance they wouldn’t. Slytherin is Ravenclaw but with muscle. It’s easy to see that those blue prats wouldn’t last ten minutes.” Pansy smirks at that. “Besides, it’s easy to cheer them on when you’ve got your star seeker boyfriend, don’t you? I hate to say it, but the two of you are cute together.” You feel your cheeks heat up as she says it, even as you know Pansy only speaks to get a rise out of you. “I’m glad you approve of our relationship. I would be utterly devastated if you didn’t.”

Pansy turns her attention back to the game. “Speaking of which, Malfoy would be utterly devastated if you don’t start paying attention. I think he’s about to win.” You tear your gaze away from your friend to stare excitedly back at the pitch. Sure enough, Draco has spun his broom into a deep dive, plunging farther and farther through the air until at last he snatches at something and rights himself, arm held triumphantly up. Even from this distance, you can see the victorious look on his face and the small golden sphere trapped in his hand, white wings beating uselessly against his palm.

Your shout of triumph is drowned out by Lee Jordan’s voice, which echoes across the Quidditch pitch. “And that’s it- Malfoy has caught the snitch- Slytherin has won. I hate to say it, but it was a good performance from Slytherin all around. We all know we’ll thrash you at the championships, though, you can count on that-” Lee’s hurried speech is cut off by the sound of Professor McGonagall chastising him for a certain lack of impartial commentating. You and the rest of the Slytherins rise up in boos against Lee, although you can’t stay angry for long. Draco has won, what more could you care about?

You rush down through the stands to the grounds below, feeling your heels fly across the packed earth. Draco’s already waiting for you outside of the locker rooms. His face, which you can tell he’s trying his hardest to keep neutral and unimpressed, breaks into a smile when he sees you. You run over to him and he picks you up, wrapping his arms around your waist. You beam up at him. “You were amazing, Draco. Honestly. That last catch was fantastic.” Draco shrugs as if it’s nothing, but you can tell that he’s secretly thrilled himself.

“It was fairly easy against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor’s next, though, in a couple of weeks. They’ll be the actual competition.” You scoff. “Gryffindor is nothing. You’ll handle them just fine, I promise.” Draco leans forward to kiss you. Even despite the bite of the wind, you can still feel a sudden burst of heat radiating through you. “Well, as long as I’ve got you I know I’ll be fine. I looked for you in the stands, you know.” You smile up at him. “I was there. Always am.”

The whole castle is in a buzz over the game. The Ravenclaw team has been training nonstop in preparation, but Slytherin still beat them easily. At this rate, the Hogwarts final will be a walk in the park. Draco still heads out to the pitch all the time, broom in hand and ready to practice, but you can tell by the ease in his shoulders that he’s ready to win.

Your footsteps echo through the stone corridors, joining the storm of chatter that bounds off of the arched hallways. You doubt Hogwarts has ever been quiet in its long history- too many students, too many spells, never enough time for silence to draw a breath. As you round a corner, though, you’re struck by a sudden lull in the hubbub that surrounds you. It’s brief, but just enough that you recognize a few voices. Hermione, Ron, and a few others.

You pause. You were intending to go back to your common room and finish up a few essays, but you’ve got no actual plans to fill your time. Why not go chat with your friends? You switch directions, crossing over the hallway to turn around a bend and rejoin the Gryffindors. You’re hidden from them by the stone corner of the wall, and you’re almost about to catch up to them when you hear more of their conversation. With a sinking feeling, you realize you know exactly what they’re talking about.

Ron is speaking now. “-and that’s what I was talking about. Quidditch tryouts are going to be opening up next year, and a lot of the oldest members of the team will be leaving. I’d go out and practice, but the field’s swamped with everyone trying to do the same thing I am and learn broom skills before the summer.” Hermione clicks her tongue understandingly. “I have the same issue around exam season. All I want to do is go to the library in peace, and then it’s swarmed with all the kids doing their best not to fail.”

She hesitates a second. “Actually, remind me if you’ve got any brooms to spare. Y/N and I were talking about going over some Quidditch skills. Everyone around us plays the sport, and all flying lessons stopped after the first year. We were thinking it would do some good to have a refresher on the finer points of broomstick flying.” Ron laughs, muttering something about the finer points of broomstick flying, really, Hermione, you’re making it sound so dull under his breath. However, a new voice rings out beside them, and you realize that you recognize it. It’s Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He must still be anxious over the recent Slytherin victory and the upcoming crushing defeat awaiting the Gryffindors, because his voice is cold.

“The Slytherin? Why the hell would you want that?” It’s not just the fact that he didn’t say your name, or the way you can practically see him turning to Hermione in shock. It’s the disgust in his voice, the sheer revulsion in his voice at the thought of ever speaking to you. He says Slytherin in the same way you might say vermin or dementor, and it cuts you to the core. You’re remembering key facets of Oliver Wood now, the way he clings to the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry with as much fervor as he does to his broom. He would never see you as anything more than a snake, and to be honest, the same is likely true with Ron and Hermione. They’re not defending you right now, are they? No, they’re just continuing on with the conversation.

You feel sick to your stomach. You had considered them friends, people you could talk with and not regret a thing. Did they see you as anything more than the one average Slytherin, someone they would tolerate to your face and loathe behind your back? You turn away from them, shouldering your bag and walking hurriedly back down the hall so they can’t see you. You head straight down towards the Slytherin common rooms, but with every step you can feel your spirits sinking. One of the worst hurts is when a friend insults you, but this is worse. They don’t even think of you as a friend, and they would have no problems with tossing you aside.

Finally, you reach the seemingly innocuous stretch of stone wall that marks the entrance to the Slytherin common room. You stand before it, muttering the password under your breath. “Hemlock.” The wall slides away, revealing the long-awaited common room. Usually, your eye would be drawn to the intricately carved stone ceiling and columns, the tall bookcases of dark wood that house every manuscript you can think of, but not today. Even the roaring fire in its wrought iron gate seems cold, the emerald-cushioned chairs unappealing. You feel like you have a lump in your throat that seems to choke you if you even think of straying by the other students, and so you hurry on your way to your dorm. You’re not sure you want to be alone right now, but it’s better than having to force yourself to speak to anyone else.

However, it doesn’t look like you’ll get the opportunity to finally escape. A voice calls out to you as you cross the common room, and you groan inwardly as you realize it’s Draco. His tone is light, unburdened, but it hesitates with worry as he takes in your twisted face. He walks over to you, taking your hand in his. “Are you alright?” You try to tell him that you’re fine, cook up some lie that you’re just tired, but your tongue doesn’t seem to want to move. His eyes glance over the students clustered around the fire and chairs, unwanted ears that could hear your conversation, and an understanding seems to dawn on him.

Instead, he guides you over to the window seat on the far side of the common room, the one that holds the swirling waters of the lake behind it instead of a view of the grounds. He sits down, reaching out for you. He pulls you close, letting your head rest against his chest. Your legs stretch out over the window seat, and you watch as the shifting lights of the lake tint the air around you a comforting green. Draco’s voice is quiet when he finally speaks.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” You sigh. “It’s nothing, just- Well, I was walking back here and I heard Ron, Hermione, and a couple of other Gryffindors talking. My name came up, and one of them seemed so disapproving, like he hated me just because of my house. I know we do the same thing to them, probably worse, but it still hurt in the moment.” You can feel him tensing underneath you, head tilting slightly in anger. You look up at him, shaking your head slightly. “Don’t do anything. I don’t even think they thought about it much. It’s not worth it to get a detention so close to the game.”

Draco presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re too nice to them. They don’t deserve to be around you, and if they can’t see that, then I pity them. You’re far better than any of them, and they know it. They’re probably scared.” You chuckle quietly. “Only you could turn an insult into a compliment. I’m not sure they’re scared of me, I’m not very threatening.” Draco runs his fingers absentmindedly over your arm, tracing invisible patterns into your skin. “Maybe you’re not looking hard enough. I think you could hex any one of them into the hospital wing if you tried.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “I think you just want me to hex them.” Draco smiles. “What’s wrong with that?” You roll your eyes, but you can already feel your mood lightening. “Thank you for listening.” Draco pulls you closer to him, nestling your head against his heart. “I’d do it any day you ask. You know that.” And you do.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy oneshot #harry potter oneshot

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sevendeadlymorons · 3 years

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Hey I’m that one anon from a while back that sent those long ass paragraphs about Lilith and Simeon, remember me? Anyway I know I’m very late to the party, but some of the boys are either getting to much hate or too much love over here (in my opinion) so I made a pros and cons list for all of them, I’m sorry- (I’m warning you now this will be long but I’ll put it in bullet points so it’s a bit easier to read, just read it whenever your mentally ready lol)

Lucifer (I hate this man.)

Pros

He’d help a lot with getting your life together wether that be finding a job, choosing the right college or other shit like that

He’d make sure your working hard and getting everything done, which is both a blessing and a curse tbh

He would be the one to take the most care of you whenever your ill psychically

Cons

He would probably overwork you

Doesnt have much time to spend on you and doesn’t make a effort to find more time unless your getting really sad about it

Probably wouldn’t be the best of help through issues with mental illness (he just doesn’t strike me as that type, feel free to disagree)

His pride would cause some serious problems in relationships :/

Mammon (I love this man.)

Pros

He’s the “if your sad, I’m sad” kind of guy so he does whatever he can to put a smile on your face

Makes his affection towards you known once he’s comfortable enough, mostly through things like hugs and head pats tho

He shows off anything you make, and I mean anything (you gave him a drawing? After showing it to everyone he puts it on the fridge. You wrote something? He reads it to everyone then puts it in his notebook to reread later, I think you get where I’m going with this)

Cons

There would probably be some communication issues due to his tsundere nature and habit of ignoring you when he’s mad

He’d get super mad at you when your trying to help him financially, maybe it’s a ego thing or maybe he’s just tired of hearing it

While his possessiveness is cute at times he’d definitely get way to overbearing if you don’t force him to cool it

Levi (I kin this man.)

Pros

He’d try to set up designated hangout times (like Friday is movie night, Tuesday is for RPGs etc)

Wanna spend time with him but aren’t very into what he’s into? While it will be harder to bond with him because of this I think if you REALLY wanted to hang with him he’d at least try to meet you in the middle (like if you like sports he’ll offer to play wii sports lol)

Insecurities getting you down again? Well never fear, levi is here! He’d find characters with flaws similar to those you see in yourself to prove that they don’t really matter (and since he struggles with insecurity himself he’d know how you feel and be one of the best at helping you through them)

Cons

Even if he makes an effort to meet you in the middle if you have different interests he’d refuse to get into “normie” stuff

He’ll guilt trip you constantly, even if it’s not on purpose (“Oh your hanging out with Asmo today? I get it, of course you’d wanna hang out with somebody cool and perfect like Asmo and not a gross yucky otaku like me”)

You have to initiate almost everything Hugs? You hug first. Handholding? You reach out to him. Confessions? You seriously thought he’d be the one to confess first??

Satan

Pros

Similar to Lucifer he’d be good at helping you get your life together and putting you on the right track

Unlike Lucifer, he’d actively make time for date nights and/or hangouts multiple times a week wether your going out for dinner or reading in front of the fireplace

While he himself might not be best at helping with comfort in the moment, he’d be great to turn to if you needed a long time treatment (you need a therapist? He’s got the best three in your area that you can afford and he found some helpful things you can do in this book)

Cons

As stated previously, he’s not the best with comfort, which can be an issue if you need a friend/partner who can be your biggest source of comfort (I’m not saying he’ll do nothing, it’ll just be kinda awkward ig)

If you vent to him about something he’ll always offer advice and while that can be good, sometimes all you want is someone to listen to you and getting advice can be annoying in the moment

I feel like hanging out with him you’d rarely ever get to talk about pointless things, everything would be serious you know? And while serious and deep conversations are good for bonding, some people (myself included) need to be able to talk about dumb things without having it turn philosophical

Asmo

Pros

He’s the best at boosting your confidence, there’s no competition

He’s more into spontaneous outings (he suddenly got the urge to go shopping, your coming with right?)

You can talk about just about anything with him, no judgment and he’ll never speak a word of it to anyone else if you don’t want him to (although he may brag to his brothers that you told him your secrets)

High emotional IQ

Cons

He has set things of things he’s interested in and his idea of trying the things your into is doing whatever it is for about 5 seconds then deciding it’s not for him

He cares a lot about looks, I don’t mean he’ll hate you or insult you cause he thinks your ugly, I mean he’ll constantly try to do your makeup, hair, and nails and he’ll always say things like “Your hair is a bit messy today, did you brush it? Yes? Well not good enough, let me do it” and “your wearing that out? There’s nothing wrong with it, I just think you’d look a lot cuter in this” and if your anything like me, that’ll get on your nerves a lot

While he’s great with emotional issues, if it’s a problem with anything like school or your job he’ll have no solution to offer, all you’ll get is a “You can do it!” and a good luck kiss

Narcissistic, need I say more?

Beel

Pros

He’s the best person to vent to, no judgment and tons of hugs and comfort food

He’s a mom friend, no explanation needed

Very supportive and always concerned for your health

Your in trouble? Call beel, he’ll help you and make sure your home safe before questioning you and will only lecture you out of love (unlike a certain older brother that will lecture you because “Your tarnishing Diavlo’s reputation by acting out like this. Your an exchange student, you must abide by the rules and behave yourself.”)

Cons

Food is his answer to everything (Sad?Food. Injured? Food. School’s stressful? Food plus a little help studying) and while food can be good for comfort, sometimes you need him to provide more than a snack

He’s the opposite of Satan in the sense that he’ll almost never offer advice when you rant to him, he just assumes getting it all out is help enough and won’t offer much more then a hug and food

Not getting along with one of his brothers? “They can be a handful, but they’re great people once you learn to handle the chaos” yeah he rarely thinks what his brothers did is a big deal so he gives you advice on how to apologize and get past it and he’ll give you food

Belphie (he really does attract the mentally ill people huh-)

Cons

I feel like he’d be good for certain people with social anxiety and people who have issues with always being scared about being a bad person (“you think your a bad person and are becoming more and more toxic by the day? Well your a better person than Lucifer that’s for sure, wether or not your toxic were going to cuddle now get in bed” or “your worried everyone is constantly staring and judging you for everything you do? Well I don’t really care about what your wearing or the way you walk so I doubt they do either, can we go home now?” ((Side note, I experience both of these issues and his uncaring personality would calm me, which is why I think this one of his pros))

He just wouldn’t care about whatever type of life style you lead and as someone who’s constantly scared of being judged for their lifestyle this would be amazing (“you sleep all the time? Same let’s nap together” “You don’t eat very healthy? Whatever, it’s fine, can we sleep now?” ((although it is a double edged sword))

He gets a burst of energy and just does the most random things (you see that tree? He’s already climbed half way up it. That petting zoo? He’s already feeding the lambs. That store? He’s already spent 30 grim)

Cons

Just like his twin he thinks every problem has one solution, but instead of food he thinks the solution is sleep (your sick? Sleep is the best medicine. A lot of homework? If you sleep you don’t have to think about it.)

At some point he just doesn’t care enough, if you come to him with a serious issue he’ll half listen to you rant then pull you down to sleep

He teases you a lot, which is fine teasing is fun, but he takes it too far. Maybe he touched on something your insecure about or he was too merciless, whatever it was, he won’t apologize for it, he just thinks your being sensitive. If he brought up some bad memories he’ll consider it, but his way of apologizing is cuddling

He doesn’t wanna do something? You guys aren’t gonna do it. You don’t wanna do something? Too bad, he wants to so your gonna.

I’m sorry this is so long- I tried to shorten it I swear- but anyway if you disagree I’m with anything, I wanna hear what you think

And even tho Beel doesn’t get much screen time and more serious moments, I think his character is way more then hunger

Random but I wanna add that other then Levi I kin Tamaki from mha and Ranpo from bsd

Dude do you just like torturing poor college students? This is so much to read, I’m about to cry 😭

I agree with the Lucifer part actually! Tho I do kinda thing he’s be good emotion support in some ways, for me, anyway. I feel like he may lack empathy that is needed in a stable relationship. Yes, he may be able to tell you with shit and honestly, he’d book my doctors appointments when I’m too anxious too so yknow. But yeah

Also agree with mammon. He’s a jackass when he wants to be, and I know he may not mean it, but his words are still hurtful in a lot of ways and he just can’t convey those emotions that’re needed in a loving relationship. But he’s so sweet and will show you off so it’s all good~

As much as I love Levi, I agree. He manipulates and guilt trips you throughout the entire game. It can’t be healthy in relationships but that don’t stop me from loving that sweet otaku boy 😔🖤

I agree with Satan too. I don’t have much to say but he’s avatar of wrath for a reason, for a start, and he honestly looks like he’d prefer talking about books than that funny thing that happened in class that made you laugh earlier

Agreed with Asmo too. Sometimes he may just get overbearing and the narcissism and the constant need to make you look better and improve you may get irritating

I agree with Beel. I don’t think he can comprehend that food isn’t an answer to everything and as a person who doesn’t cope with food and relatively hates it, he won’t be any help to me emotionally. He’s so sweet but he just won’t give you that proper support

I love Belphie so so much but I absolutely agree. He’s one of the most unbothered brothers who won’t care what you look like, yes, but that also means compliments may come rarely and like his twin, “sleep is the answer to everything” I can admit I like to sleep but I have a manic side that comes with insomnia and if he’s dragging me down and not letting me move and I just cannot sleep, I’m gonna get irritated and pissed off.

This got a bit long on my end too. I just really liked how you worded this and it was fun to see pros and cons of the ‘perfect’ brothers

I think Beel is more than food too, but I just don’t particularly like him either way cuz I’m not really a foodie so I can’t relate with him lmao

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

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25&28 w tkachuk (if not taken)

25. spending time with family / 28. “Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?”

quick note: happy birthday, Matthew 💕 decided to use an OC for this one as it fit a little bit better. enjoy!

quick warning: just alcohol I believe. suuuper fluff.

song pairing, just for fun: It’s Not Christmas ‘Til You Come Home by Norah Jones (for a sad, mopey, brooding Matty)

_____

“Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?” Keith bellowed, nudging Matthew’s arm with the same hand that held his vodka tonic. The matching drink he poured for Matthew still sat in front of his son on the kitchen island, untouched. That’s how Keith knew his son was really struggling.

“I prefer Grinch,” Matthew grumbled, resting his chin on his fist. “And my holiday spirit left with Leighton.”

Taryn clicked her tongue in pity from the barstool next to him and stood to wrap her arms around her brother’s shoulders. “I know you miss her,” she said as she squeezed him tight. “We miss her, too.”

Matthew attempted a smile and patted his sister’s forearm appreciatively. Brady, on the other hand, took less sensitive approach.

“Yeah, plus you’re way more fun when she’s here,” Brady pointed out, pouring himself another drink.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured sarcastically, followed by a lengthy sigh. “I just don’t know why she had to be the one to travel so far for this game. I wish somebody else could have.”

“Because it’s a big bowl game, Matthew,” Keith stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “And we all know she’s the best at what she does. It’s Christmas Day. There’s gonna be a lot of eyeballs watching this afternoon. You should be proud. And understanding. She works in sports and you’re a pro athlete. Of anybody, you should get it.”

Matthew dropped his head back in dramatic fashion. As much as he hated to admit it, his dad was right. He absolutely loved that his girlfriend worked as a sideline reporter for college football — they understood each others’ insane work schedules and had a special bond over their passion for sports of all kinds. He loved listening to Leighton’s reporting because she was a hell of a lot smarter than he was, and also a lot smarter than most other reporters… plus, the fact that she was an complete smokeshow, and all his, was the cherry on top.

But her job stealing her away from him at Christmas just wasn’t fair.

“Speaking of which, her game is starting soon,” Taryn said, glancing at the oven clock. She clapped Matthew’s back and ordered, “Come on, let’s go.” Taryn led the way into the living room as each family member found a seat in front of the TV.

As if Matthew could have ever forgotten, Leighton was working a bowl game in Phoenix. He had initially tried to force his way into joining her on her trip, but she refused to allow him to spend Christmas Day alone in a hotel room or waiting for her somewhere squeezed into the sold out stadium. She insisted on Matthew’s going home to spend the holidays with his family, who barely got to see him at all during the NHL season. Though they’d promised to have their own Christmas when they both returned to Calgary late on Boxing Day, they were both brokenhearted at the prospect of spending their first major holiday apart.

“It just won’t be Christmas without you, Leight,” Matthew sighed as he leaned his forehead against hers during their final goodbye at the airport.

She took a deep breath and tried to hold herself together at his statement, her fingers smoothing the short hair at the nape of his neck. When she looked back into his face, her eyes shone with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Leighton whispered, not trusting her voice to carry her words. Matthew shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the space between her brows. “I’m just gonna miss you is all.” Leighton squeezed his neck tighter, and after one last searing kiss, she pulled back with a sniffle.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” she told him. “Like always.” She reached for the handle of her rolling suitcase beside her and said, “I really have to go.” Matthew nodded.

“Okay. Be safe,” he said quietly, pulling her into his chest once more. “I love you, Leight. Merry Christmas.”

He felt her choke on a sob before she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Matty. I love you so much.”

And with that, she threw him a tight smile with red, watery eyes and forced her feet to carry her inside to the check-in counter, before she gave in and jumped back into Matthew’s car and returned home with him, like every muscle in her body was screaming at her to do.

Though he smiled when Leighton first appeared onscreen, looking even more beautiful than usual, Matthew then immediately replayed the memory of their crushing goodbye a few days prior, and his face fell once more. His mom, seated next to him, took notice, and wrapped her hand around his, smoothing the other over his cheek with a sad smile. He squeezed her fingers and gave a halfhearted smile of his own.

Michigan edged out a win over Florida after an ultra-competitive game, which Matthew couldn’t even enjoy because his heart ached each time Leighton was shown on the sideline. He sighed after each report she gave, and by the end of the game, when it was time for dinner, he had given into the drinks Keith was offering and was now well into the process of drowning his sorrows.

He did his best to contribute to the conversation at the dinner table, but after the plates were cleared and they returned to the living room to play board games and watch Christmas movies, Matthew fell quiet once more. No one called him out for it — they felt the weight of Leighton’s absence, too. She had become an integral part of the Tkachuk family dynamic, and not having her there just felt wrong.

By the time it was nearing midnight, Matthew was lying motionless on the couch, watching Home Alone but not laughing at any of the parts that made him chuckle each time it was on. He was just about to force himself upright to pour one last cocktail for the night when there was a knock at the door.

Everyone fell silent.

Brady and Taryn looked at each other at the same time, and Taryn whispered, “No way…”

Matthew looked to his parents, cuddled together on the couch across the room. Chantal appeared just as surprised as her children did, but Keith’s eyes had a distinct glimmer in them. He gave half a shrug and said from behind his glass, “Well, why don’t you go answer it?”

It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t. Was it? There was no way. Taryn was right. No way.

Halfway through a second knock, Matthew swung open the door to find a certain sports reporter on his doorstep, still dressed in the same ensemble she had worn on the sideline, covered with a pea coat and a Flames beanie.

A breathy chuckle escaped through her smiling lips and rose through the air as a puff of white steam.

“Hi, Matty,” Leighton said simply.

For a moment, Matthew was completely and utterly frozen in place, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. When he blinked and realized that his girlfriend was still standing before him, that she was truly here in St. Louis, he lunged toward her and buried his face in her neck — she would have fallen over for certain if not for how tightly his arms wrapped around her waist.

Leighton felt tears on her barely-exposed skin as she wrapped her own arms around Matthew as best she could. She turned her head to press a kiss to his cheekbone and said softly, “Did you really think I was going to be able to survive spending a whole Christmas without you?”

He laughed in disbelief and admitted, “I almost didn’t. Just ask them.” He nodded toward his family, who were now all huddled in the entryway together. She giggled and smiled brightly at them, the family who had long treated her as one of their own — including the probable future father-in-law who had schemed to get her to them as soon as humanly possible after her game had concluded.

Before she could step inside to greet them, though, Matthew firmly grabbed her face in both his hands and gave her a long, tender kiss — the kind that told her just how much she had been missed.

“I can’t believe you’re here. God, I love you, Leighton,” he whispered, nuzzling her cold nose with his warm one. “You’re all I wanted for Christmas this year.”

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ciggylungz · 4 years

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Rivals

Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them? 2.2k

It’s no secret that growing up with a workaholic parent is hard for a kid, but for Y/n it was amplified due to the fact both her parents owned one of the most famous fashion companies in the world. This meant during most of her childhood she relied on nannies, private drivers, maids and child minders to care for her in absence of her busy working parents.

Of course having absent parents gave her some perks during her teen years, the ability to throw ragers in the absurdly large mansion they’d bought for the three of them –(well, they were hardly in it so mainly just their daughter)- not having to worry about getting caught when she decided to bring people over to get a quick shag in and the plus of having no one to bother her during her angsty middle school years. Those things were nice, yet you really can’t replace the role of your parents with teenage hookups and parties.

If there’s one thing that she absolutely hated about her parents work, it would be their former business partners cunt of a son. Harry Styles. Y/n had been forced to be in the twats life since they were 10 and his father joined stocks in her parents company before investing fully and becoming business partners. For Y/n that meant being forced to be around their son whenever their parents were too busy crushing numbers or out on boozy business trips clogging their noses with high end coke and buying out their competitors.

Harry was always a good-looking boy, and that only made things worse because he was a total prick. He was arrogant, annoying and always got away with being the biggest pain in the ass y/n has ever experienced in her life. He was insanely competitive, cocky and always found a way to weasel into Y/n’s business just to push her buttons. One’s he knew how to push perfectly to make her want to pound his head off a blacktop.

It was almost as if when it came to Y/n he never matured past being a 12-year-old boy, and now he’s a 23 year old powerful business man who still can’t manage to leave her alone.

Y/n had inherited her parents’ company when they decided to retire, two years before the retirement her parents and Harrys father had severed their ties and he’d gone back to his independent company. And just y/n’s luck, the man passed his roll as CEO down to his son, making the two young adults’ owners of two of the most famous fashion and beauty companies to ever exist.

Make no mistake, Y/n was a strong, independent and ruthless business woman so Harry’s subsequent inheritance didn’t threaten her in a business sense it more so made her worried for her blood pressure since the man couldn’t help but come bother her every chance he got. It didn’t help his dad had a single remaining stock left in the shoe portion of their clothing company giving Harry the perfect excuse to come barging into Y/n’s office to get on her nerves. To Y/n Harrys like a cold sore that won’t go away, just keeps coming back every time you think you’ve gotten rid of it.

___

Today was a busy day for Y/n, she had a meeting with her team that worked closely with her managing profit, stock, inventory, sales and all that stuff. Her team was large, with a company with over two thousand distributors worldwide and thirty-five exclusive stores scattered around the globe that’s to be expected. All in all, Y/n was responsible for making sure all one hundred and fifty thousand employees were running a smooth ship and every participating party was doing what they needed to do. It was a stressful job no doubt, but she never backed down from the challenge.

The meetings were always her least favorite part of her job. All the paper work that had to be read, numbers calculated, sales charted and any complaints or incident reports all had to be verbalized and talked about in detail with documentation of all the important things said as well as much more. Today the meeting took a grueling four and a half hours and the day was far from over.

Once she got out of her meeting it was nearing noon, she had to push her lunch off to phone the companies attorneys because one worker was trying to do a fake insurance claim. The man faked a work accident failing to remember every warehouse and factory was littered with security cameras that caught him in the act, so she had to inform them of the situation so they could sort it out. After that she got sucked into looking at new designs her design team had come up with for the next season, explaining that Chanel and Gucci both wanted to work with them to carry a few exclusive items only for that season.

Finally, at half passed two she made it back to her office, sitting down in her desk chair while taking her hair out of the headache inducing ponytail it had been in since she got there at five that morning. She opened her laptop, planning to send off some emails while she put in her order for lunch to her assistant, getting as much done as she could in the little bit of private time she was able to snag.

A knock sounded at the door, she knew it was Morgan coming in with the food she ordered so she didn’t bother to look up from what she was doing very drawn in to the email she was currently formatting. Only her attention was quickly severed when his voice rang out instead of the one she expected.

“I believe you ordered the chop salad, diet coke and fruit for lunch misses Yln.”

That annoying, cocky voice. You can hear his shit eating grin and teasing eyes simply in his tone, you don’t even have to look up at the jerk.

A prolonged sigh blew out of her lips, a grunt of annoyance following as she looked up at him. He looked nice, as always, she added bitterly in her own mind. She hated the fact someone so goddamn irritating was so undeniably attractive. He wore a dark blue suit, white button up with a black tie and yellow accent pocket square. Yet his fashion and handsomeness seemed a bit overshadowed by his personality that had the same affect on the woman as nails on a chalkboard.

“Harry, to what do I owe the displeasure?” Y/n reached her arm across the desk to snatch the paper bag from his ring clad hands, a sarcastic disapproving finger was pointed at her yet she didn’t take his bait opting to give him the death stare instead.

“Sassy today are we?” The man rested himself on the small leather loveseat that was in her office, propping his head on a throw pillow and putting his feet on the armrest. “You act like you’re not happy to see me, I know yeh missed me.” Y/n rolled her eyes, digging her fork into the salad aggressively. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been happy to see you, and I’m certain no one has ever missed your presence either.”

Harry chuckled slightly, loving how easily he could annoy the girl. Over the past thirteen years he’s learned just how to get under her skin, and he enjoyed doing so.

“Bit feisty today aren’t yeh Y/n? playing hard to get I see.” The man folded his hands on top of his chest, completely relaxing into the comfortable furniture, making himself comfortable for the undetermined amount of time he’d be spending there irritating his childhood ‘friend’.

The difference between Harry and Y/n’s perspectives on their rather odd ‘relationship’, if you could really call it that is Harry never hated Y/n. In fact he was always quite fond of her, he enjoys her company even when he’s forcing it on her and using the shared time to annoy the ever loving shit out of her. He and the woman have always been competitive growing up. In sports, card games, classes, and now business and Y/n took things a lot more seriously then he did. she was always wound a bit tight, she gets it from her mother.

Harry and Y/n had an interesting past. They have a love-hate relationship, seeing as even through the perpetual animosity they’ve carried since they were kids they did have their good moments too. And though Y/n would never admit it, there’s a part of her that does actually care about him even if she loathes that part of her deeply. In their teens they were at each other throats a lot, but in between that they would occasionally have their good days where they would refrain from getting into screaming matches and instead would be able to tolerate being together. Y/n chooses to describe it as tolerating him since she’d never admit she sometimes enjoys his company.

Through their formative years whenever Y/n was throwing a party, she wouldn’t protest when her friends would invite Harry as well. Pretending like she didn’t know he was coming and didn’t want him there when she saw him in the crowd, yet he always had a feeling she was anticipating and secretly wanted him to make an appearance. When he’d plan some sort of adventure with their friends he’d do the same, always slightly relieved when she’d show up but he’d put on the irritating act as soon as he got the chance which ruined her mood, every time. and well, it would be a lie to say the two never found themselves hate fucking each other after one of their parties, drunk and pissed at each other only to pretend like it had never happened.

To Harry, the animosity mixed with a hidden sense of fondness and maybe even a hint of attraction.

The woman ignored his comment, chewing her food before taking a swig of the soda looking back at him with a rather unamused expression. “What do you want Harry? And who the hell even let you in here?” she continued eating and wrapping up her email while he formed his reply. “Told Morgan I’d bring it up to yeh, she’s got a bit of a crush on me so she handed it over without much convincing.” Yet another eyeroll from Y/n was delivered. “She’s like 19, don’t manipulate her into worming into my office just because she can’t see that you’re a much bigger prick then the one in your pants will ever be.”

“First of all, 19 is legal so if she wants to eye fuck me I’ll allow it. Second, don’t be rude. This is a professional setting, do you think it’s appropriate to talk about my genitals in the work place? Might have to report you.”

Y/n couldn’t help the small snort she let out at his antics. As much as he annoyed her, sometimes she did find him a bit humorous. “and for the record, I’m very happy with my package and I don’t appreciate that comment.” He pointed a finger at her, a fake angry look on his face. “Just as much as I don’t appreciate you intruding on what was supposed to be my down time to eat, we’re even shrimp dick.”

Harry gasped at the insult, squinting at her slightly. While Harry was skilled in pressing her buttons, she could do it the same. Making comments on his dick size, sex skills, business deals or things of that nature always got him riled up. That 12-year-old boy mentality rearing it’s ugly head any time she makes a comment about his dick being small. Childish he was, absolutely childish.

“Don’t get smart with me, I’ll whip it out right here to prove my point.” His eyebrow raised and she could see him chewing on his cheek in annoyance. She truly found it funny how peeved she could make a grown man by making fun of his penis. He was ridiculous.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, I didn’t bring my mental scrub brush to work with me today.” When she had finished speaking the woman tossed her now empty salad box into the trash, taking another sip of her drink and finally sending off the painfully long email.

Harry decided it was time for him to head back to his own office, which was right across the street much to Y/n’s displeasure but of course he couldn’t leave without a final childish jab at the woman.

“Just remember, I’ve had you bouncing on my dick more than once. Don’t hold yourself so high and mighty dear, because we both know I’ll have you like that again.”

And with that a Harry with a cheeky smirk on his face left the office, leaving a slightly stunned Y/n in his wake.

(eek pt.1 lets see how this one goes.)

#harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles series #CEO!harry #CEO!yn #harry styles concept #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

1 | friend in me.

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.” (x)

muses. party friend!jungkook x reader ft. bestfriend!taehyung ft. ex-boyfriend!namjoon

genre. university au. fwb. f2l.

words. 6.1k

warnings. mentions of break up, mild exhibition, alcohol use, future mentions of joint, future smut, mature content

alternative title. to my dear friend.

final part. exclusives only (x)

note. this fic hasn’t been showing up in searches no matter how many times i repost and it’s got a special place in my heart so i really want it to reach the audience, that’s why i made a few changes in hopes to beat the odds lol. enjoy!

striking up an unlikely pact to look out for each other’s backs at parties, is the last thing you expect to do with jeon jungkook. sure, you may or may not find a reason to laugh at his lousy antics and corny pick up lines - he’s also a great kisser but that’s besides the point.

the point is, you’d like to keep him as that - the friend that you meet at parties and parties only. so when you see him on your campus grounds, naturally your first instinct is to stop, turn the opposite way you’re heading and where he’s coming from - and start fast-walking to the other end of the campus like the devil is after you.

except that devil comes in the form of denim jacket, white undershirt and wavy dark hair that easily falls over doe eyes that seem to sparkle when you freeze at the sound of your name and turn around to face him with an awkward smile.

he breaks into a mini jog, leaving his friends that you’ve never seen before, behind. your own friends who you’ve been walking with and ditched at the sight of him, gawping at you and the new face from the spot where you decided to leave them at.

why couldn’t they have gone on their merry way - regardless if you’d paused and trekked to the opposite direction you were heading to?

jungkook skids to a stop in front of you, pretty pink lips quirking after he tilted his head to shift his hair out of his eyes instead of pushing it back with his hands.

“hey,” he greets, glancing down at his scuffing vans before meeting your gaze again, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip before retreating back into his mouth, leaving a sheen of moistness on his lips, “i didn’t know you went here.”

willing yourself to smile, you push your hair to the back of your ear before wrapping your arms around your chest, “yeah,” you drag out with an awkward chuckle, not as oblivious as he is of the stolen glances coming from the people passing through the walkway.

“what are you doing here though?” you notice his own friends that he ditched waiting for him several feet away - a group of attractive men and women who clearly belong to the equally high place group from your own faculty.

and yet here he is, talking to you - the ghost with rounded glasses sitting atop her nose and faded chapsticks on her lips. out of all the days you could have looked more zombie-esque, jungkook had to show up at your faculty today.

he’s nice enough not to point it out though as his lips turn into an ‘o’ shape. if you focus, you’d probably see the light bulb going off in his head as the answer to your question hits him. though at this point, you’ve already been hit by your own realization of the reason for there being more people walking around with mechanical appendages and remote control of every kinds. it must be-

“we’re here for the robocup tournament,” he grins, excitement apparent in the way his eyes seem to widen as you can almost hear the screws in his brains working before the question tumbles out of his mouth-

“what about you? are you joining?”

you want to laugh.

and that’s the thing about jungkook - he’s so good at reading you that he knows something’s up. brows knitting together, “what’s... up?”

the shaking of your head is purely reactionary - you’ve made a few friends who came around to compete at times your faculty was the one to hosted it, like now. it’s not as serious as it seemed to be but it’s not entirely something you joke around either since it involved someone’s blood, sweat and tears to make the cut but-

“guess you haven’t heard about the long standing tradition of the circuit breaker’s string pulling. the competition’s rigged.” despite your too willing trip down memory land, you still let your eyes dart around in case anyone’s listening. after you’re sure no one was, only then do you finally go on, “every year, they pick a judge’s kid as part of the team - even if they weren’t enrolled in seollyu and were in some other non-robotics related university, they’ll get close to them and keep them around until the competition. one year, one of them even went as far as dating a judge’s daughter when they couldn’t recruit her into their team.”

swallowing down the bile, you pretend not to notice the complete downturn of his lips as you roll your shoulders in a shrug out of the need of having something to do that doesn’t require focusing on the conflicted, purse lipped frown on jungkook’s face.

“oh wow, we never heard anything like that in beongju.” he murmurs, eyes drawn to the grass a feet away as he contemplates.

“it’s okay, what matters is you guys have fun.” you wave a dismissive hand, smile more natural but still sporting its awkward tucks.

“yeah,” jungkook nods before he meets your gaze, smiling in a half-hearted attempt to ease his own mind, “who knows? maybe this year, beongju will come out victorious.”

you nod, chest blooming with hope - a wishful thinking perhaps, “maybe.”

it’s when his eyes twinkle with a different kind of excitement that you know the matter of the competition is past him, and that’s your cue to go.

“hey, are you-“

“i have a class to-

you both stop at the same time, staring at the other for the longest moment before jungkook offers for you to continue, “you first.”

“um,” you would have deflect it back to him out of politeness. that is, if you didn’t know that he was going to ask you if you were free. possibly to grab lunch or a smoothie somewhere. but that’s the thing, outside of parties, you’re a completely different person altogether. right now, you’re the all-work, no-play study-hard. none of your equally study hard friends are aware of how you are at parties - none of the people you know, know how you are at parties because you made sure to attend only those you’re sure you wouldn’t run into acquaintances. of course it’s difficult and there are a few familiar faces you can identify as people from your faculty at every party but barely which is a safe amount. so it doesn’t make sense to break the unspoken, mutual understanding of the core you and jungkook’s friendship is built on. he might have forgotten how important it was for you that you were strictly ‘fun’ friends, so it’s your job to remind him, “i have class right now.”

you take a step back in preparation to bolt towards said nonexistent on-going class, “but hey, good luck on robocup. oh yeah, what were you gonna tell me?”

jungkook’s “oh - uh,” shouldn’t have sent waves of relief to you the way it does, but when he mumbles a “nothing - it was nothing.” you couldn’t help but suppress a grateful sigh.

on any other occasion, with a person completely separate from jeon jungkook, you would have pressed on - encouraged them to say what they initially wanted to say. but instead, you shoot him a smile, “oh -okay. guess i’ll see you around?”

“uh,” it’s clear as day that he doesn’t want to just leave it up to chance to bump into you in this big building with at least a thousand occupants coming and going everyday throughout the competition but the way smacks his lips shut tells you he there’s something holding him back, so he settles with a, “yeah... see you around.”

“you know,” you pause, tendrils of reluctance forbidding you from relaying the tale of how you and jungkook met in hopes it was indicative enough but judging from the way jisoo has her eyebrows raised, lisa with her knowing smile, taehyung and jimin expectantly waiting but with the first actually shooting you an meaningful stare - it seems like you have no choice but to say it-

“we spoke a few times at different parties and realize we have the same party mutual and get invited to the same parties so... we decided to hang together... at parties.”

“hang,” lisa echoes, underlying tone couldn’t have been more obvious as she grins from ear to ear.

“please, no way in hell do you just hang with jeon fucking jungkook when there’s booze and a dozen of empty rooms involved.” jisoo comes barreling through like a bulldozer, hands in the air as she squeals at whatever scenario her mind is cooking up in her head.

laughter trickles out of your mouth as you hide your face in your palms in an attempt to avoid jisoo and lisa’s eyes and the things that they’re hinting at with a mere gaze.

“why?” taehyung’s baritone finally hits the air as he leans back against the recliner. once the silence settles in a second later and all eyes turn his way, he adds, “not that it’s any of our business but,” he shrugs, “he’s not really your crowd - not any of our crowd.”

that’s the million dollar question. taehyung hates beers and crowded places - which is a surprise given his social butterfly-ness among all five of you. jimin, jisoo and lisa do go parties - those that your closest friends would be at. otherwise, they aren’t adventurous as you.

maybe jimin has a another side that you don’t know - it’s a known fact that he has other friends. dance friends, drinking friends, and whatever type of people with similar interests who flock a certain direction.

just like how you had jungkook and the group of friends you hung out with at parties.

“i mean, my dance friends aren’t exactly your kind of crowd either,” jimin interjects from the floor, head lulled to the back to look at taehyung, “remember how you wanted to avoid hoseok at all costs after i brought you to a practice once?”

“yeah,” you instantly second, hand gesturing to the man in a ‘exactly what he said’ manner before turning to the taller guy, “everyone makes friends where their usual friends aren’t.”

“i guess,” he cedes after what felt like the longest pause in your history of friendship.

it is that moment, just as your muscles begin to relax, that your phone dings with a notification. unbeknownst to you that you still command the attention in the entire room, you cluelessly let check out the new text message.

koo: we lost ):

“it’s him.” lisa announces, the bed shaking as she scoots away when you try to swat her thigh.

“and she has him saved as koo,” she - without any trace of intentionally constructed pun, coos, hands clasped together next to her tilted head as she bumps it with jisoo who’s mimicking her gestures.

“he just texted to say he lost,” you clarify, shaking your head at the two girls’ antics.

not that it changes anything as jisoo leans her whole body against lisa, an arm on her forehead in a troubled manner, “now i wish i had a boyfriend.”

lisa hums in agreement, her long limbs extending to wrap around the older girl’s torso as she rests her chin on top of jisoo’s dark brown tresses.“me too, sweetie. me too.”

typing out a ‘i’m so sorry. it’s okay they don’t deserve your talent anyway ):’ with a mixture of emojis, you hit send just before turning to what jimin is saying.

“...go to one. i heard alpha sig is having one tomorrow,” then he turns to you, as though you bear an abundance of knowledge about which place is having a party and on what day, “right ____?”

it takes you a moment to piece together what he said. you didn’t hear the beginning but you’re sure it’s something along the lines of jimin setting the two lonely singles to break their 2 month no-party streak and maybe get that boyfriend they wanted.

“jimin, i’m not sure,” you say shortly before turning to the two girls,“not that that many good, upstanding citizen of men go to the parties i went to though but maybe there’s a miracle waiting for you girls,” you smile in genuine hopefulness while referring to an entirely hopeless place. but it turns into an emphatic one as the two girls fake cry about the minimal chance they have to get a - in what you could make out of jisoo’s fake bawling - hot, sexy party boyfriend. whatever that meant.

you don’t have the time to confirm it when your phone dings again.

koo: thanks i can always count on you to be real w me 🥺🥰

another grey bubble pops pushes the text you’re reading upwards.

koo: you coming to alpha sig’s party?

koo: we have to be here for the closing ceremony tmr anyway

koo: help me make good memories before i leave seollyu 🥺

you suppress the urge to roll your eyes at that. he’s only been here for one day and he got invited to one of the most hard-to-get-in parties on the campus.

naturally, you and jimin were invited from your underlying reputations. and naturally, whoever you bring is invited too.

except you’re not a fan of going to parties that you know you’d meet the exact people you didn’t want to meet.

lisa peeks at your phone the second time - and you didn’t even notice until she screams, “___’s going to alpha sig’s!”

“oh my god, will he be there?” jisoo leans her entire body over lisa in a reckless abandon to get a peek of what the younger one saw only to have you hold your phone away.

“um? privacy? anyone?” you offer while jisoo pouts.

“duh, she’s going because of him.” lisa says im a matter-of-factly, “otherwise, she wouldn’t even entertain the thought of going to any party infested with people we already had to see sober.”

“am not.” you counter, the matter of replying already long forgotten as you cross your arms over your chest, phone tucked in between the side of your boob and hand, “if i’m going, it’d be because i want to!”

“so you’re going?” jisoo blinks, eyes twinkling with hope. so are lisa’s.

you have no choice but to turn your cheek to a laughing park jimin on the floor. his pupils disappearing behind his lids. clearly, he’s not going to back you up. so you turn to the only other person who you thought would.

“if tae’s going then i’ll go,” you declare, already feeling the triumph of what the man would choose from his precedent choices. “not that you guys need me to get in since jimin’s already-“

“sure.” the taller man announces.

you’re forced to make a double take while your jaw drops in your lap along with jisoo and lisa’s while jimin blinks in surprise from your periphery.

completely conscious of the gazes boring into his skull, taehyung attempts to casually shrug it off as a- “since you guys are going, you know.”

jisoo yelps in celebration before going “great, who’s up for some chicken?” shooting up and sending the mattress shaking as she takes big steps over your legs and hops off the bed. hands planted on her hips, she glances around the room with the residue of a pleased smile from the decision of all five of you finally going to a party together.

“me!” lisa follows suit with the exception that she’s crawling on her hands and knees to get off the bed.

“me but i don’t want to get up.” jimin whines, unmoving from his spot which is lying on the fluffed pink carpet as taehyung’s birthday present to his otherwise creme themed room.

“come on, park. get your ass off the floor and to the parking lot - get it, park jimin goes to the parking lot?” jisoo begins tugging on his wrist, the sight rather comical considering how she’s trying to make a man twice her size sit up, let alone move to get to the car seeing as he’s the only one with one.

lisa shares a doubtful look with you and taehyung at the poorly made pun, questioning why jimin seems to be the only one chuckling but then again, he’s always been the easiest to entertain.

after huffing and puffing, jisoo finally plucks the boy off the floor. but getting him to walk the distance from his apartment to the car is another feat.

it’s when their voices echo in the hallway, and you and a certain taller man is left in the room, do you notice the difference in this silence compared to the rest as he pushes himself up.

“are you going for real?” you finally ask, throwing your feet over the bed.

taehyung’s lips pucker as he contemplates the pros and cons, “what’ll i do if i don’t go? binge watch maze runner and be reminded of the fact that all third movies suck?”

maybe he doesn’t hate parties as much as you initially thought. after all, it’s been a year since he vomited all over kim sowon while making out on the couch at alpha sig’s.

you grin, elbowing the man as you both make your way out of the room, “hey, maybe you could find yourself a girlfriend while you’re at it.”

taehyung’s laugh doesn’t reach his eyes but you chalk it up with the jitters of the thought of having alcohol course through his veins and surrounded by bodies on the dance floor, “huh, yeah.”

the day fly by between getting to classes and getting lunch - it was a feat to convince everyone to go to dumpling place just a little bit off campus but you’d managed and subsequently successfully avoided running into jungkook for the day.

“bih, what the fuck?” lisa gawks, jaw descended to the ground as she stares at your mini black crop top that stops a few inches above your high-waist ripped jeans.

if you didn’t show up to classes in sweats and oversized sweaters, round glasses and hair always up in your laziness to make them look presentable - every day, maybe your ability to throw on some eye make up and highlights over your foundation wouldn’t have been so much as a surprise.

unlike you, your friends have always been on top of their game when it comes to appearing like functioning members of society. the clothes they have now have also been worn to class before - that’s how you know their confidence is sky high while yours require a little bit of help depending on what you wear.

why they decided to adopt a munchkin like you into their otherwise perfect clique, you’ll never know - but maybe it had something to do with you looking like a lost puppy in your first year with your round glasses and the thick books you carry around. it was a matter of time you ran into someone and drop them - that someone being jisoo.

after that, the rest was history - your prejudices towards groups of attractive people have never been so diminished.

your hair bounces gently as you hop into the passenger seat, giggling shyly at the attention you’ve garnered with your otherwise usual getup for a fun time.

“if i knew you won’t have any problems surviving off skinny jeans and cute tops, i would have burned those baggy clothes a long time ago.” jisoo confesses, red lips curled into an impressed ‘o’ as she takes in your appearance.

you gasp, truly offended to know your day-to-day choice of outfit has never been any of your friend’s preference yet only now do they make it known - talk about fake friends! “don’t you insult my comfy clothes like that!”

a light bump on her shoulder forces her to tear her gaze away and turn her cheek to the grinning girl next to her, “maybe she has a reason to dress cute.”

and just like that, the two breaks out into coos. sending you signals with their entire face muscles as jimin chuckles from the driver’s seat.

“but you know, this is how ___ usually dress up for parties even like before she met jungkook.”

you send praises to the gods for sending you this blessing of a friend as you fix the two girls a smirk, posing like a model as much as the cramped space allows you, “nah, i got it from my momma.”

an onslaught of protest - denials - mixed with cheers erupt as you begin to poorly mimic that of models with your limbs pointing in every direction and body bending in weird angles. it doesn’t take long before laughter tumbles out of everyone’s mouth, the front seaters included - taehyung had achingly turned in his seat to attend your fashion show while jimin stole glances in the rearview mirror.

yoo jeongyeon is the first to wave you over. if there’s a grey area where party friends and real friends merge together, it’ll be her. you’ve gone to parties together and had fun - though the last time you did, you ended up waking up on the same bed with some guy on the floor.

jin? jun? jeong? j-something grinned when he woke up to the sight of you two, “so... can i get you girls’ number?”

jeongyeon didn’t bother to hold back her grimace and you’d strutted into the bathroom as if you didn’t hear him.

“kim taehyung, lisa manoban and kim jisoo.” she studies each one with an impressed, “how did jimin and ____ manage to haul your asses out and over here?’

“the single life they’ve been walking has finally slapped them in the face and they finally want-“ you get cut off by lisa’s fake chuckle that sounds every bit forced.

“-wasted.”

“-boyfriends!”

they end up saying at the same time. while jisoo is finds no fault in her confession, lisa’s face is heating up - coming second next to you when it comes to shying back into her shell when topics like these come to light.

“taehyung too.” jisoo hooks her hand around the aforementioned man’s arm, stopping him from slowly disappearing into the crowd like a certain park jimin has, her other one around younger girl.

“jeongyeon, you have introduce us to cute guys or we’ll end up dying from all this single-ness!”

at that, the woman burst into laughter, hand on her stomach as she tries and fails to suppress it.

“i don’t know,” she wipes a tear from the corner of her eyes, “isn’t that more of ____’s specialty?”

“uh,” it takes a heartbeat for you to register what jeongyeon is saying before the same heart in your chest crashes against the ground at her next words.

“everyone knows,” a meaningful smile quirks on her lips, “about you and-“

“i- uh, i think i heard jackson calling me - something about a group project.” you quickly say, cursing yourself for the less than plausible excuse to get away.

and the three girls think so too as they call you out for it but you don’t stop until they’re out of earshot and out of the spotlight, ending up at a table full of booze.

you pop a can open, letting the bitter taste wash over your suddenly dry throat. the alcohol hasn’t got to you yet but you know it will and maybe that’s the only thing you have going on as you walk around, waving to people you know and lingering to talk with some, noticing that most of them are halfway to getting drunk.

some time later, you spot jisoo, lisa and jeongyeon dancing with some of your close friends. beer in their hands. you wonder how they’re going to find a boyfriend or even a hook up if they just keep to their circle - that was the clear as day distinction between you and them.

where they feel the most comfortable surrounded with familiar faces - regardless of whether they like them - you find comfort on a room full of strangers and the knowledge that you wouldn’t see them anymore after that.

but that wasn’t the case for jungkook. after one too many parties and several ‘hey, i was hoping i’d see you’s, a sense of camaraderie starts forming. of course, rules don’t apply where it would in a normal, socially sober setting.

you were friends as much as you were fucking like rabbits. finding comfort in mornings where you wake up without a sense of recollection, a throbbing headache and a lump of body underneath the sheets only to sigh in relief upon finding out who it was as though to say ‘oh thank god it’s you and not some rando i won’t know how to politely kick out while emphasizing that i have class in like 5.’

you embark on a visual searching journey to look for the same boy who wouldn’t mind if you had to shut the door in his half-awake face on mornings you had to get ready for class and still smiled at you later that night when you meet at a different party - until your gaze lands on a pair of brown eyes.

instead of wide and doe-like, the one that captured yours are hooded and heavy, boring into the windows of your soul. all of a sudden, you’re brought back to the same time last year. back when you were just a freshie with a stomach full of butterflies as you shyly look away from those piercing eyes.

but now, all you feel is your stomach rearranging and bile almost rising to your throat as you take a swig of the beer before melding into the crowd.

alpha sig is known for their closeness with circuit breaker, having been been sponsored by your own faculty for those with outstanding achievements to stay on-campus.

but none of the circuit breakers ever come to these parties - or at least, he never did.

almost as though the stars and planets aligned to manifest your only thought, a familiar voice wraps around the syllables of your name. and you would have continued on your merry way and pretend like you didn’t hear anything, if only you’re not in a hallway where there’s least people and subdued music compared to the dance floor you just escaped from.

“i heard you’ve been around,” kim namjoon stands at the end of the hallway, decked in plain gray t-shirt underneath a leather jacket and black pants. he takes easy, casual steps towards you with a dimpled smile that couldn’t have been more vain, “but i couldn’t believe my ears,” his shoulder line jolts as he shrugs, “well, until now, at least.”

“who would’ve thought? the cute ___ who blushed from a simple peck would have this side to her.” he stands a good half a head over you, his cologne’s changed from the last time you’d come in such a close proximity like you are now.

“yeah,” you drag out in a half-singing voice, face schooled into an unfazed expression, “i mean, it’s better than going around tricking girls into sleeping with you, right?”

at that, his smile instantly drops into a hard set frown as he lowers his voice, “i didn’t ‘trick’ you into having sex with me,” his lips quirk up at possibly a recollection of that night, “as i recall, you begged me to take your virginity.”

“that was before i knew your shitty motives to get brownie points from my dad just so you could win a stupid competition,” your voice is equally low and threatening, body heating up from the remembrance of those unreplied texts and the look in his eyes when you approached him that monday after the tournament - like he didn’t even know you.

namjoon laughs - the sound dripping with mockery as he throws his head back slightly, “come on, that was like a year ago. get over it.”

that’s it.

that’s when your mind is the clearest. no amount of beer could tell you otherwise - that this man right here doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt on the occasions that your friends begin spilling hot tea about the leader of circuit breaker and the things the members have done to win. they didn’t know about you and namjoon - nobody really does. you should have known those late night meetings and nothing but a polite smile when you pass in the hallways - were all red flags.

ones that you willfully ignore in the guise of ‘i’m not ready to tell everyone yet’s and ‘it doesn’t matter, if nobody knows, right? as long as i know you’re my girl’s

“you’re a dick.”

you push past him, cursing internally when he doesn’t budge and you’re the one who ends up with an almost dislocated shoulder.

it is only when you’re pushing a through the sea of bodies and swatting hands that try to grope your ass, does a certain doe-eyed, bunny smile enter your vision.

almost instantly, the urge to pinch the hand on your lower back disappears after knowing who its owner is. you’re pressed up against each other - the dance floor doesn’t allow much room for personal space and you’ve shared your personal spaces with each other far too many times to need that kind of distance from each other.

“i was looking for you,” the alcohol in his breath doesn’t feel all that repugnant as he nears his mouth to the shell of your ear, igniting a fire that kim namjoon had set up with the previous exchange.

he stands straighter, lips puckered sulkily as he swayed your bodies together, “we lost and everyone in my team had girlfriends or boyfriends to comfort them-”

your hands that cup his face and digs into his messy tresses make him clamp his mouth shut. the gentlest protrusion of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows in anticipation.

he asked and you shall grant it.

girlfriend. fuck buddy. what difference does it make?

“i know, koo. i’m sorry you wasted your time on that dumb competition.” you purr, noticing how his gaze becomes glazed as he steals a glance at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

a heartbeat later, you’re pressing your mouth against the softest pair of lips you’ve ever known. mentally, you make a note to ask what he uses to keep them smooth and kissable.

he snaps out of his stupor a moment later, hands snaking down to grab your ass like he’s done this a million times before and knows just how to get you moaning into his mouth. almost as natural as breathing, he slips his tongue past your lips tasting you.

another moan escapes you when he begins kissing down your chin, trailing sloppy kisses on your neck and suckling on the one spot that gets your heart palpitating on your chest. hands tucking on his pleated outer shirt for the sake of having something to hold.

you bring jungkook’s face to yours, noticing the sheen on his pinker lips before pressing another deep kiss. he doesn’t to think twice to react. one hand on your free hand slipping underneath your crop top. when someone shove into jungkook, almost sending you tumbling backwards and ending up doing the same to another person - jungkook curses. “fucking drunktards.”

a giggle escapes your lips, “pot calling the kettle black? we were probably bumping into people on nights we were shit faced drunk.”

“probably.” he shrugs, fingers lacing around your wrist as he guides you off the dance floor and into the kitchen where he doesn’t waste a second in hoisting you up onto the counter and slips in the space between your legs.

“hello.” you murmur, resting your forehead against his, cheeks hot and body aflame.

“hey, beautiful.” he fixes you a lazy grin, lips drawing closer to your mouth but before he manages to close the hair breadth’s distance, he stops.

“wait.” he murmurs against your lips, eyes glued to them as though he’s picturing another part of him on them.

“what?” you whisper, just as enticed by his own lips as your try to pull him closer with your arms that’s wrapped around his neck.

“are you drunk?” are his next words and you’re well aware the basis of where it spurred on.

once upon several parties ago, you’d included stopping you from putting on a risque show if your drunken self ever abandoned your self-restraint. jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t love attention per se but he doesn’t shy away from it either.

“i’m not,” you assure, drawing closer to his lips by the second like moth drawn to flames. but you have enough sense to tilt your head to steal a glance towards the direction where you’ve been feeling a hole being drilled into your skull. your heart skips a beat when you catch namjoon’s eyes - he’s leaning against the wall with his friends either standing or sitting on the couch, beer in one hand.

“but i need your help to make someone jealous.”

jungkook follows your gaze towards namjoon and his friends a few feet away. it doesn’t take much for him to piece two and two together - especially after your a apparent animosity while telling him about the competition being rigged.

“ah,” he hums - you could just hear the smile in his voice. your knees weaken at the touch as you begin kissing the patch of skin closest to your lips which is his jawline. “i don’t know if i should be sad or happy that you’re finally agreeing to have sex in public with me because of some what’s-his-face guy.”

“not have sex sex,” you correct, delight filling your chest when he shivers - whether it’s from your touch of the image your words are painting in his head, you’re not sure, “but make out with me like you’re a kiss away from fucking me senseless?”

“i thought that’s a given?”

not needing to be told twice, you find yourself being devoured like a little rabbit in the arms of the beast. the background around you blurs together as you inhale jungkook’s scent, feel the warmth seep from his body to yours. your hand snakes down in between your bodies with one goal in mind: the gentle protrusion brushing against your own crotch.

“fuck a show,” jungkook hisses harshly against your mouth, breathing becoming labored as you caress him over the layer of his jeans, “where’s the closest room we can get to?”

you nod in agreement, hopping off the counter and tugging on your top to keep your nipples from being exposed after jungkook’s hand fall away from your breast at your retreat.

“they might have empty ones upstairs.” you tug on jungkook’s hand, making your way to the staircase and trying not to step over drunken bodies making out on the ground or simply passed out.

it’s when you get one foot on the stairs, that a clamoring thud erupts from somewhere on the dance floor - the air that was once blaring now pin drop silent. jungkook’s cheek presses against your back as he wraps his arm around your torso, a peck landing on your shoulder, not telling you to move but not really interested at the reason you paused to peer through the gaps of bodies that seemed to be looking at something just around the corner.

“shut the fuck up, dickhead!” a voice thunders against the walls after another thud that sounded like heavy equipment falling against the ground - and possibly breaking.

“must be those football guys fighting over a girl.” jungkook comments, uninterested.

on any other occasion, you would have agreed and gone on your merry way but it’s the unsettlingly familiar baritone that made you freeze in your spot in the first place. it’s with a rattling realization and the sight of jisoo among the throng of people, calling out “taehyung, leave it!” that gets you to trudge back to the floor, vaguely aware of jungkook trailing from behind with a “what’s wrong?”

eyes bore into your skull as you finally push through the throng of people and burst onto the scene. jisoo has her arms around taehyung’s while jimin appear miniature as he stands between the taller man and an unnervingly calm namjoon. the latter wipes a trace of blood from his busted lower lip as chills run down your spine when the man’s eyes falls on you, lips curving into a vain smile.

“why don’t you ask her yourself?” his voice drums against the walls - loud and clear to those who are watching which is basically everyone here.

“come on, ___, everyone wants to know if you begged me to be your first and how we fucked in the back room of the student lounge.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook #bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines

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aprilsrant · 4 years

Text

Praised be writer’s block | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: in the midst of an upcoming war and worries about the future, (Y/N) bonds with an unexpected person, golden boy from gryffindor house himself.

WORD COUNT: 3,000, more or less…

A/N: this is my first time doing this, so if you have any suggestions please let me know! also, if you can, reblog so it can reach more people, it’ll help me a lot.

All of this wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for @peeves-a-legend, which btw is an amazing writer. I can’t thank you enough!

Masterlist.

The gif below is not mine, credits to the original maker. And yes, I see robert sean leonard as a young!remus, but you can imagine whoever you want.

In one of the few sunny and warm mornings left of the season, (Y/N)’s mother had dragged her to Diagon Alley to buy her school’s supplies. The term for her sixth year was about ten days away from starting and going there didn’t thrill her anymore. She had retarded the visit as long as her mother’s patience lasted (which wasn’t a lot considering the woman had belonged to Hufflepuff), and no one had been succesfull on finding the reason, althought her mum suspected it.

(Y/N) hadn’t felt the rush of excitement run through her body in a long time when she thought about going back to Hogwarts, and buying supplies meant she was only a step closer. Her first two years were more than she could ever ask for, but everything came crashing down on her at the young age of thirteen.

(Y/N) had started to notice the repulsive look on people’s faces whenever she tried to help them, all looking down at her green robes as if she had grown a third arm or a second head overnight. She realised, with now a heavy weight on her heart and a new insecurity over her mind, that not all Hufflepuffs were kind and inviting. Maybe, she supposed, they were too proud to accept help from anyone else.

Or perhaps, (Y/N) was too naive to think she could defy centuries of old stereotypes and unhealthy competitions while wearing a green and silver tie.

But the rude comments and weird stares had not affected her in such a long time. She didn’t show them how angry she got about those and how much she wanted to scream at those Gryffindors to get over themselves, because if she did, she was proving their point. All snakes, young or old, end up being violent creatures. Instead, a new feeling of uneasiness had settled in her mind, washing away her minor problems.

Peace no longer reigned over the Wizarding World. Rumors of a war were spreading like wildfire. Voldemort’s ranks got bigger and bigger with the passing time, and more muggle families and muggleborns were being wiped out, like they meant nothing. In those dark times, not having magic or being from a family with the wrong kind of ancestors, could determine your doom.

In her case, she wasn’t at the top of the Dark Eater’s food chain as a halfblood, but that didn’t ease her nerves. She was more worried about her father, a muggleborn, her grandparents and several other friends. Many of their families wanted to go into hiding and she knew that this year and the others to come, Hogwarts wouldn’t be so magical.

Once they passed through the brick wall at the Leaky Cauldron, their first stop was the Apothecary, which (Y/N) had refused to enter because of the disgusting smell of bad eggs and something more repulsive she didn’t identify. Instead, she decided to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies. It’s not like she played the sport, Merlin knows how awful she was at throwing or hitting things, and playing as Seeker was not an option. But she always attended the matches, channelling every single piece of energy her body had onto cheering for Slytherin’s team.

(Y/N) made her way to one of the corners of the shop, wanting to see the newest Quidditch gloves her best friend had talked about so much in her letters. Maybe she could get her a new pair for her birthday, so she could start the season with brand new gloves. But looking at the price, she realized a cheappier gift would have to do. Her family wasn’t the richest and she knew her parents were struggling with money lately.

“Expensive, aren’t they?,” asked a voice from behind her. She turned around, one of the gloves still on her right hand, and noticed that the voice belonged to no other than Remus Lupin. She was lying to herself if she said he wasn’t good looking. Those dark brown eyes and soft hair had gotten to her when they were in their fourth year. (Y/N) had spent weeks, maybe even months, crushing on him and, of course, annoying her friends to no end about how perfect he was and how he was one of the few decent members of the lion house. But she never tried anything, she had a long list of excuses that, maybe, exceeded the many numerous reasons why she liked the Gryffindor so much.

“Definitely,” (Y/N) finally answered with a grimace in her face, “I thought I could get a pair for my best friend’s birthday since she’s a Chaser, but I’m not so sure now”.

Remus offered her a small smile and muttered something about how her best friend would appreciate anything she would give her. After that, neither of them said anything and only the noise of other people’s chattering could be heard. She looked around the store, trying to think about something that would lead to more talk, while Remus put his hands in his jeans’s pockets and changed the weight of his body to his left leg.

A few more seconds passed and (Y/N), not tolerating the awkward atmosphere anymore, was the one to initiate the conversation this time.

“So, um, Remus, are you, um, planning on joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Since, you know, you are… here”.

Merlin, her sister was right, she did need to start socialising more.

“Oh no, not a chance,” he answered letting a snicker escape his lips. (Y/N)’s mouth turned into a little smile because of the sound, not noticing at first. “I’m just here because of James and Sirius, they wanted to see some new brooms that came out this…”.

Remus words were interrupted by the same people he’d just mentioned. James Potter and Sirius Black, the most known students at Hogwarts, were walking towards them. (Y/N) tried to put on a neutral face, not showing her true thoughts on the two boys.

It wasn’t that she hated them. At some point, she had found her pranks on those horrible Slytherins funny, but after last year her opinion on them changed drastically. It appeared to be that they couldn’t distinguish who were the “good” Slytherins therefore they’d just played cruel jokes on every single member of the house. Or maybe, they didn’t think Slytherins could be nice and decent people, so all of them deserved to be made fun of.

“REMUS!,” they both shouted at the same time. Almost everyone in the shop turned to see them, and as (Y/N) moved uncomfortable with a scowled look because of the new, and unwanted attention, she wondered why they had to be so bloody loud all the time. “We were looking for you, but it seems you have found some company”.

Remus’s cheeks changed to a soft crimson after Sirius’s comment.

“Careful now, Rem, snakes tend to bite and some of them are poisonous.” James’s eyes shined with mischief as he spoke.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at that, but instead of keeping quiet as she normally would, she responded to Potter’s remark, surprising the others and herself in the process.

“Excellent observation, James. Now, how much time did it take you to come up with that and for how long you’ve been wanting to use it? Perhaps, it was after that particular Quidditch match where Slytherin shredded you into pieces ”.

His face no longer showed a fun expression, but, in it’s place, was a face with narrowed eyes trying to hide the fact he had been caught. (Y/N) smiled at that, she was not this kind of person but it was good to see Potter embarrassed after he had humiliated her in front of half the school just a few months ago. She knew Sirius wanted to say something to save his friend, but as his mouth was starting to open to spill some sarcastic or stupid comment about her house, Remus stepped in.

“Sirius, don’t say anything, just leave her alone,” he began, giving the pair a pointed look with his eyebrows raised, “we were only talking, there’s no need to start acting as if she’s going to bite my head off”.

Dumb and Dumber, as one her Slytherin friends liked to called them, stared at Remus like he had transformed into a Hipogriff. (Y/N), as surprised as she was, glanced at him with a confused, yet somehow grateful, look on her face. In return, he smiled at her and grabbed his friends from the shoulders, making them walk towards the door while mentioning something about having to meet up with Peter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

Before reaching the door, Remus turned around, let go of Sirius for a moment and waved at her with a grin, one that made her cheeks blushed and her stomach flipped.

|||

It had been months since the interaction between her and Remus, plus James and Sirius. A small smile and a certain glow in her eyes stayed present on her face for the rest of the trip to Diagon Alley with her mother, who had not missed the sudden shift in her daughter’s appearance.

She hadn’t talked much with him again (only a few more times because of their prefect meetings), but the little interactions between them remained. Like the gentle and kind smiles they would send to each other while walking in the school grounds and greetings from afar with a short wave of the hand.

Winter break was just around the corner when they met again. Both wrapped around heavy coats, gloves and scarfs protecting them from the cold wind and the freezing fog. (Y/N) would have been pissed about her feet getting wet from the snow if it wasn’t for the outstanding landscape it created. A pure scenery, grounds and trees and roofs of the castle covered in white, in such terrible and corrupted times.

“Lovely, huh?,” he mouthed.

What is it with this boy and sneaking up on people?

(Y/N) nodded, still unable to tear her eyes from the view. When she finally did, she became aware of how close they were, elbows almost touching. Releasing a shaky breath, that quickly changed into what it looked like fog, (Y/N) peered at him. The end of his nose was red, matching his cheeks, while his lips were pale and dry from the weather. It was an adorable sight, perhaps even more worthy of her attention than the snowflakes falling from the sky.

“What makes you go to Hogsmeade on this particular frosty afternoon, (Y/N)?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Remus,” she exclaimed, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she mentioned his name, “but, if you really like to know, I’m heading there because I forgot about some Christmas’s presents. What about you?”

Without perceiving it, they had both started to walk towards the small town, making their way through the layers of snow.

“I just, um, wanted to visit Hogsmeade one last time before, you know, going home.” For a moment, (Y/N) had the idea of hearing some kind of hesitation while he spoke, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was saying.

This time, (Y/N) would not let the conversation turn awkward so rapidly, after all this was her chance of having an actual opportunity with Remus. So she swallowed the majority of her nerves, which were quite a lot, and planted a smile on her face. But before the words could come out of her mouth, Remus himself had beat her.

“Would you like to come to the Three Broomsticks with me?,” he questioned.

It took her a few seconds to understand what he had asked because of how rushed he’d spoken. Her eyes widened at the notion of going on a date with him. Was it even a date? A small voice wondered inside her head. Ignoring it, she replied with a short yes. His entire demeanour immediately transformed. Remus’s eyes didn’t hold too much worry now and a large smile decorated his face.

The trip to the popular pub was shorter than it normally was, but (Y/N) guessed that had been for how much she and Remus talked while walking to the town. When they arrived, the warm and cozy ambient, although a bit smoky and crowded, received them like a bright lamp post in the middle of nowhere pointing out the pathway. Even if (Y/N) loved winter and snow, a hot butterbeer didn’t seem too bad after being exposed to the cold wind.

Sitting down at one of the tables from the right corner of the shop, right next to a large window and giving the back to one of the walls, she could see the entire place. But her eyes were now glued to the Gryffindor seated in front of her, who was trying not to look like he was going to pass out from the nerves of having a date (was it a date?) with the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts, maybe even the whole world.

They passed the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, chatting regarding the things they loved and hated from Hogwarts; complaining about professors and the amount of homework they sent; laughing because of some ridiculous story told by Remus (he swore his breath got caught in his lungs as he watched her throwing her head back while letting out a loud laugh, eyes shining with happiness and not caring, for the first time, about the looks from the people in the place). They discussed their favourite muggle authors, the most amazing films that had ever been made and their dreams after finishing their education.

(Y/N) had felt herself falling all over again for him while watching him talk about how much he’d loved being a professor and being there for his students. The passion and shine in his eyes rivaled even the brightest star in the night sky.

And Remus had seen the same expression in her face when she talked about becoming a known writer in both the muggle and wizarding world. Despite her excitement, he recognised something else in her eyes, perhaps uncertainty or even sadness. When he asked about it, (Y/N) confided in him the fact she was scared about trying it.

“What if it’s a waste of time? What I’m supposed to write about?”

“It won’t be a waste of your time if it makes you happy,” he reassured her, “and the ideas will come to you, don’t worry. You can even write about us.” (Y/N)’s eyes quickly made their way into his after hearing that. “I mean, about this part of our world”. She couldn’t help but feel quite disappointed.

“Wouldn’t I be violating the Statute of Secrecy?”

Remus raised his shoulders a little as he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to stop a smile from forming in his face.

“It’s not like the Ministry is going to find out,” he whispered, so only (Y/N) could be able to listen to him, “ who’s going to tell them about it? Me?”

A scoff left her mouth and she rolled her eyes playfully at him. Was this really happening? Remus Lupin, the boy she had a crush on in her fourth year, sitting in front of her, encouraging her to follow her dreams.

“Is the Golden Boy and Prefect of Gryffindor House actually saying that I should just break an International Law?” she joked while shaking her head in disbelief, “McGonagall would be so heart broken”.

Now it was his time to roll his eyes. Directing a smirk at her, he leaned back in his chair, more relaxed and with a new light glowing around him.

“Look, I would love to write about this world. But ambition is not the only trait that got me in Slytherin,” (Y/N) declared. She beamed when he furrowed his brows together in confusion, getting closer to the table and placing his elbows on top of it. “Violating that Law is having a death wish and self preservation is one of my top priorities”.

“I can’t help but agree to that”.

The hours kept running and people began to leave the pub, but not them. They had stayed until the owner told the teenagers he was closing. Not (Y/N) nor Remus had noticed where the time had gone. Quickly, they collected all of their belongings and left the establishment in a hurry. (Y/N) didn’t want to think about the punishment they’d received if they were caught.

Fortunately, they made it to the castle in one piece. Once they were a few meters away from the entrance, they started to laugh. None of them knew why, it just seemed like a good time to do it.

“What happened to you and your advice of breaking the rules?” (Y/N) said in the middle of a laugh.

“I hope this doesn’t become a tradition, Mr. Lupin, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a stern female voice said in front of them. Professor McGonagall was standing gracefully in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a furious expression implanted in her face.

Remus and (Y/N) looked at each other, the same thought running through their minds. They were so screwed.

|||

December 25th.

Dear (Y/N):

I’m sending this letter to wish you a Merry Christmas and a great New Year, even though it’s not the 31st yet, but well… that doesn’t really matter right now.

I remembered you talking about how much you wanted to read more classics, and I couldn’t help myself. Inside the box, you will find Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, and Wuthering Heights, by some other lovely woman named Emily Brontë. I’m not so sure about why you would enjoy them as much as I did, but maybe they’ll inspire you on your journey of becoming a writer. It won’t hurt visiting new worlds to fill your mind with ideas.

Also, and I hope this doesn’t bother you, the books are not brand new. They were read by me and have some marks on the pages, but I don’t like giving new books as gifts. I think that if they were used, they are even more special and hold more value.

Can’t wait to see you once the break is over.

Sincerely, Remus John Lupin.

|||

The grin on her face never abandoned her after reading Remus’s letter and opening the silver paper with golden stars all over it, in which he had wrapped the two books he had mentioned. In fact, it lingered on her for the rest of the day, accompanied with a special and renovated brightness in her eyes.

Before letting the owl return back to its owner, (Y/N) gave her some food and water, and when it was ready, she attached a small box with red paper on the exterior and a green bow at the top. She had also prepared a gift for him, even if it wasn’t that meaningful (at least, that was what she thought). (Y/N) only hoped he would enjoy the chocolate stash, full with different muggle and wizarding ones she had thought he could try, while the owl stepped away from her windowsill.

Around eight p.m, she finally went to bed and despite spending the day interacting with her family, (thing that tired her out pretty quickly), (Y/N) was more awake than ever before. Laying down on her bed with a cup of tea and an old blanket that had once belonged to her sister, covering her legs, she grabbed one of the books Remus gifted her, ready to dwell in Mary Shelley’s world.

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #young!remus lupin #young!remus x reader #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #marauders era #fluff #sirius black #james potter #petter pettigrew #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x slytherin!reader

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

Note

Hosie where Hope finds out that Josie is dealing... Oregano?

A/N: I wish I had some oregano to get me through this quarantine...

Title: Searching for a Deal

Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Josie Saltzman

Request prompts here | Read on AO3

Magic had a scent to it that reminded Hope of home. She could never pinpoint the exact smell, it was more of a feeling than anything, a memory that pulled at the very back edges of her mind until it felt familiar.

Her aunt carried a dark mahogany box; its wood was soft and finished and hot like sage. And that’s exactly what magic reminded her of. Of course, she kept weed in that box and hid it behind the books she knew her family wouldn’t reach for. But not everyone was as cunning as Rebekah. Hope was.

She would reach her hands past the spell books, feeling that cold energy along the way, and pull out the box. It didn’t take much convincing to get one of the witches in the quarter to teach her how to roll the paper around the herb, she would sit on top of the toilet in her bathroom near the small window and blow the smoke through there. Hope probably inhaled more off-brand air freshener than the actual weed.

There were parties at the Boarding School, kids who had a handle on where to get drugs, but part of her always felt horrible about drawing smoke into her lungs and passing it back to the person who had paid for it. She was used to doing things herself, and she had gotten to the itchy point in time where she wanted it on her own.

She couldn’t call her Aunt Rebekah, she had gotten away with too much as a young teenager and she was nice enough not to say anything. And going into Mystic Falls to con Maya out of her supply wasn’t an option either. She needed to find a hook-up within the walls of the school.

Hope tried Lizzie first.

“Oh come on,” she whispered harshly, sandwiched between romance novels and a shelf of non-fiction Norse magic. The blonde let her eyes flick from the finely printed spines to Hope before going back to her task. “I know you have some.”

“And what makes you think I do?”

Hope shrugged and tested her luck “There’s no way in hell that therapy is the only thing that has mellowed you out this much, Lizzie. Just give me a name.”

The blonde blinked slowly at her, fingers running against the nearest textbook. She swiped it from the metal shelf and piled it on top of the other one in her arms before letting out a small breath. “Even if I was about to tell you, which I’m not, insulting me isn’t the way to get answers, Hope.”

“Then what is?” She arched a brow.

“Simple. Ask someone else.”

Hope let out a groan of frustration and the taller Saltzman twin went back to her book report. The library was mostly empty at this time of day, golden strings of light bouncing from the shelves. She wouldn’t be able to find an answer with the librarian behind the counter or the young vampire lounging in one of the leather chairs with oversized headphones.

She was agitated, and albeit, desperate.

That very desperation leads her to the gym; it was vastly different than the study. Its floors gleamed and the sound of rubber against glossed wood pounding against her already existing headache. She lingered by the doors for a few moments, watching a few of the wolves pull themselves effortlessly up the ropes.

As soon as Rafael met her gaze, she beaconed him over.

“Not a chance, Hope.” He said, breath caught in his throat. A fine layer of sweat dripped through his shirt. “Dr. Saltzman is strict about that stuff. You think I would be caught with that in my system?”

It hadn’t stopped him before, not at the same parties that Hope had gone to. He was often sitting right next to her, blunt between his teeth and smoke clouding his lungs. “Fair point, but you know who sells it?”

He stalled for a moment, clenching his jaw and glancing back at his teammates. “No. But I know who might.”

Penelope Park.

Hope was growing exhausted of this game of telephone, and even more wary of rushing around the Salvatore school. It wouldn’t be hard to track down Satan herself, she stuck to the dark corners of the school and often camped out under the bleachers, letting the coolness of her perch soak through her jeans as she breathed in the sharp smoke. She reeked of it, and Hope lingered at the entrance. She kicked a metallic can of off-brand beer to get the woman’s attention.

Two other witches lingered, one with his arms stretched above his head, he clung to the bars like a vice and narrowed his glowing eyes at her. The other witch grabbed the rolled paper that Penelope jutted out to her. Hope despised the smug look on her face and the sloppy grin that followed.

“You have a moment?” Hope asked, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Penelope stood from the cinderblock with little hesitation. With the nod of her head, the blunt was handed back to her and the two witches exited from their position at her flanks. They never took their eyes away from her. Hope hated being alone with Penelope.

“You want a hit?” Penelope asked, stretching out her hand.

Yes, she did, more than anything. She nodded and took the rolled cigarette before taking a deep breath in. The toxic taste coated her lungs and instantly made the tension release from her shoulders. “Thanks. I actually… Raf said that you know where to get this?”

“mm, try in town.” She grabbed the blunt back and then dropped it into the wet soil, using the tip of her toe to ground it into nothing. “The humans at Mystic High thrive on it.”

Hope shook her head “I know someone here supplies it. Just not who.”

Penelope laughed and she hated the sound of it. It was something that mocked her and kept her up on certain nights when she was forced into the same social situations as the girl, which wasn’t often. It made Hope cross her arms over her chest defensively.

“Relax, dude. I just think it’s funny that you’re just now hunting this kind of thing down. Even funnier that you have no clue who sells it. It pays to have friends around here, you know?”

Hope glared at her. “I just need a name, Park.”

“Fine, fine.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat “Josie.”

She wanted to tell Penelope Park to crawl back into whatever hole she had dug herself last. To lay down and cover herself in dirt because there was no way in hell she had spent this long talking to the girl for a bullshit answer like that one. Josie Saltzman. Yeah right.

Penelope must have read the expression on her face. “You asked for a name, Red. I gave you one. She doesn’t’ sell the best stuff, but it’s high quality for Mystic Falls. And even better, you don’t have to travel into town for it.”

Hope waved her off and walked out from under the bleachers, back into the sunlight. She was instantly washed with an easier scent of freshly mowed grass and off-brand sports drink. Maybe she would find Josie, because if Penelope lied, at least it was about Josie. Soft lipped and kind-hearted Josie. She might get scoffed at, but that was the extent.

She found the girl in her dorm room, the door cracked open as she drew little swirls in her notebook. Ukulele was on her right side. She had been scrawling notes and lyrics but took a creative break, it seemed. The girl glanced up with a stunningly potent stare, setting everything aside as the tribrid knocked sheepishly on the doorframe.

“Can we talk?” Hope had asked, and she knew the answer before she even parted her lips. Josie had a certain vulnerability to her eyes that spelled everything out. Of course, they could talk. Hope could speak for hours without a breath and Josie would listen.

Josie scooted over at the base of her bed and patted the spot on the carpet with a slight nod. Hope was feeling the few breaths she pulled in under the bleachers, the taste still thick on her tongue. Her mouth was dry and she would kill for one sip of water, but this seemed like the most important place to be right now.

“I’ve been asking around the school,” She started. Josie nodded, her slight curls bouncing “and Penelope Park of all people told me that I could… buy something off of you?”

“Like what?”

Josie got this adorable little crinkle in her nose when she was miffed, or when she was lying. Hope never noticed it at first, but she did after once too many dinners with the family. Josie didn’t like lemon and she didn’t like fish either but she would eat it if they were in a fancy enough restaurant because that was the polite thing to do. Her nose crinkled now.

“weed Jo. I’ve been searching through this entire school, and so help me God if Penelope is fucking with me,” She stilled and sighed “I’m stressed. I need something.”

“I don’t even smoke weed.”

“Christ,”

Hope pinched the bridge of her nose, because she knew this meant having to go into town. She didn’t like Lizzie Saltzman much, but she disliked Dana even more. All the townies had something against each and every one of them, and she wasn’t prepared to drop a good amount of money on something so small.

Josie shifted as she turned towards the bed and pressed her shoulder against the floor. She was reaching blindly under her bed for something, letting out little grunts of exasperation. She said something, but it was muffled by the carpet. Finally, she pulled a small mahogany box from the darkness.

“I asked if you could close the door,” Josie emerged, breathless.

Hope just nodded dumbly and got to her feet before following the order. She remained there, her back against the mahogany as she rose both of her eyebrows. Josie hummed in gratitude before unlatching the container.

“I hide it in my sage because people like you can’t smell it otherwise.”

“I thought you said you didn’t’ smoke.”

“Oh I don’t, but I can recognize a good business venture when I see one. There’s not a dealer within fifty miles of this place. Simply no competition so my margins are great.” She stopped rooting around and pulled out a little baggie, a portioned clump of browns and greens.

“I never would have figured.” Hope laughed.

“That’s kind of the point,” Josie beamed “First ones free.”

#hope x josie #hope mikaelson #josie saltzman #hosie #hosie fanfic #fanfiction requests #fanfiction

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 18

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 5.6k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; we’re still on an angsty train

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, July 14

Your calendar has been marked with multiple clumsy crosses, a pattern following the giant date circled in a bright reddish hue.

Tomorrow’s date.

Your initial reaction is to be excited, anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach and a wave of euphoria surging out. You’ve been waiting for this opportunity since the day you joined the team, the chance of professionally playing in nationals seeming like a far-fetched dream until now.

And yet the experience in preparing for the blissful moment is nothing like that.

A sudden rift occurs with your practices, the wheel changing course completely. Before it was about achieving your personal best and being lenient towards ensuring you were capable enough to play during games – but now, now it was about training vigorously until you perfected every single flaw, painless mistakes no longer being tolerated.

It’s as if someone took the dial and raised it up to a turbulent rampage, absolutely nothing bracing you from the ramifications.

“Something isn’t right.” Jinyoung ticks, his eyes sending a venomous glare in Hoseok’s direction, “You’re not taking this seriously enough.”

Hoseok pauses in the midst of dribbling, form tensing up, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your shots have gotten weaker Jung,” Jinyoung scoffs, eyes narrowing onto Hoseok’s current stance, “Who even takes that many steps while shooting?”

The basketball in Hoseok’s hands suddenly slams onto the ground, his hands clenched in fists as he strides over to Jinyoung.

“My shots are perfectly fine, okay? If there’s something you want to criticize then maybe you should work on your shitty passing skills.”

The cord completely snaps and before you know it, Hoseok and Jinyoung are lunging at each other. A whistle breaks through the silence and immediately there’s two hands pushing them away, Namjoon’s eyes emitting a fiery edge.

“Both of you, calm down!” You’re taken aback by the sharpness in his voice, watching him step back when Hoseok and Jinyoung leave some space in between.

Namjoon huffs like he’s been running a marathon, “I know things are stressful right now, but the last thing we need to do is take it out on each other.”

Both of them stay mute and Namjoon sighs, “If there’s a problem, then work on it. There’s no need for all this.”

He gestures to the distance they’ve created and Jinyoung rolls his eyes, snatching a basketball and stalking away. Hoseok stays put instead, crossing his arms with a distasteful pout on his lips.

Namjoon sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. He whirls around, staring helplessly at the remaining members.

“Everyone else, continue practicing.” When that earns him a nod, he walks away, frustration still lingering on his features.

You turn to Jungkook and Taehyung at his departure, who don’t seem as fazed as you do with the argument.

“Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much.” Taehyung exhales, “I’m surprised it was Hoseok this time around though, he’s not the type to be involved in fights like that.”

You hum, eyes wandering over to his deflated form, “I guess the stress of nationals can get to anybody…”

“It’s a lot when you think about it. Ten games against ten different schools, having to beat all of them in order to win the championship.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook, “It’s been hard, right?”

“It’s even harder if you get injured, because then you can’t even participate anymore.” Jungkook quietly mutters.

“If Bangtan wins this year, wouldn’t it be your third time in a row?” You ponder, but Taehyung and Jungkook visibly shudder at the thought.

“If we can survive that is…” Taehyung whispers, looking more dismayed than you’ve ever seen him. Jungkook nods, acknowledging a factor that you hadn’t taken into consideration.

“The competition has gotten worse. Just think about it, anyone would be gearing up to defeat the Bangtan Sondeyeon after we’ve been successful for two years in a row.”

“There’s a lot of people trying to take you down…” You quietly say.

Jungkook hums, starting to dribble his basketball again with a sad smile, “There’s more than you can imagine Y/N.”

He whips around, occupying himself with practice again. You clutch your basketball tighter, the words replaying in your mind over and over again. You had always known about Bangtan’s history for a while, but now that you’re a part of them, it’s strange to know how clouded their victory’s have become because of those wanting to take their title for themselves.

With a sigh, you attempt to dribble again, failing to properly get a flow as the looming atmosphere draws heavier on you. Taking a glimpse around, you suppose its for the best if you step out for a moment.

***

Thankfully the atmosphere outside isn’t as threatening and suffocating as the one inside the gym. You end up planting yourself down on a bench near the lockers, watching the volleyball team practice for a game through the thin glass of their practice room.

Your ears perk up at the sound of footsteps shuffling, making their way over to the bench before a weight sinks down. From the corner of your eye, you can see his hand is placed on top of his cheek as he observes the game you’re watching.

“Why are you out here?” You inquire, noticing how Namjoon had been the only one inside the gym throughout the entire practice.

“Same reason as you.” Yoongi simply says, “The tension in the gym is usually at its max during this time of the year.”

You hum, eyes drawing onto the way a player serves the volleyball, “But are nationals really that bad? To the point where it’s hard to even stay in the gym?”

“Depends.” Yoongi leans back on the bench, following the flying volleyball with his line of sight as well, “Nationals are just like any other game with the only difference being the stakes are now higher.”

“What about the competition though? I heard there’s a lot of people wanting to see our team lose.”

“There’s always going to be people who hate you.” Yoongi smirks, “So doesn’t that give us even more of a reason to prove that they’re underestimating our team?”

You chuckle at that and he softly smiles, “That’s true…I just hope we can all get through this. After all, that’s what I came here for…”

The volleyball abruptly strikes the ground, a point being called in for the other team as the referee blows a whistle. Your somber eyes watch it roll away, only blinking when you feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hand draw closer to your own.

You glance at him but he’s still trained on the way the team quickly creates a huddle, discussing a new strategy all together.

“This is your first time playing at nationals. I can’t say you’re completely inexperienced playing professionally anymore but this isn’t something you’ve dealt with before,” He faces you now, stare intent, “So it really comes down to if you want to do this or not.”

The tone Yoongi uses is utterly blunt and you appreciate the honesty. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what happens or what doesn’t happen. What matters most is if you want to do this and if you’re prepared to see it through to the finish line.

You sigh, watching the team depart and try again in the game. “This is exactly what I wanted to sign myself up for, so I think it would be a shame if I didn’t see it all the way to the end.”

Yoongi nods, a small smile curling on his lips as he refocuses back on the thin glass. The ball harshly slams onto the wall, rolling over onto the opposing team’s ground.

“Isn’t that a foul?” You lean forward, brows contorted. Yoongi narrows his eyes as well, humming in agreement. The referee then retrieves the ball, changing the score to an additional point for the team as they erupt into a loud cheer.

“Oh.” Both you and Yoongi mutter at the same time, exchanging a genuinely surprised look with one another in a moment of drawn out silence. Your collective attention is diverted back to the scoreboard, watching the team's new point get added on.

“I guess it’s a relief we chose to become basketball players instead.” Yoongi whispers, but your ears manage to catch onto it and your body shakes as you laugh. Yoongi smiles, getting up from the bench and reaching his hand out to you.

“Come on. Let’s head back to the gym before we make anymore bad predictions.” You smile as you take his hand, briefly peering back in confusion at the game’s rules. You eventually shrug it off by the time you and Yoongi reach the gym doors, knowing that at this crucial point in time there was an entirely different game waiting for you behind those doors.

***

You suck in a deep breath.

The first game is luckily scheduled to take place at your school, but the moment you cross paths with the other team, you catch sight of a certain someone you didn’t know you would be facing.

He kindly smiles, though it completely contradicts the nuanced look he holds in his eyes when he glides past you. Nothing major seems to have changed in his appearance, the same shade of blonde hair and characteristic confidence radiating off of him as if you had just seen him yesterday.

“Who knew Bangtan would ever have such cute players?” Seokjin sing-songs, joining his team from across you. Taehyung holds back a scowl beside you, his eyes sending daggers in Seokjin’s direction.

You on the other hand, attempt to shrink just enough to hide behind Taehyung, not needing to be told twice about the team’s rival captain. Even though you had thoroughly prepared yourself for the start of nationals, nothing could have prepared you enough for the team you were about to face.

Namjoon strides in, being followed by Yoongi who is dressed in his signature jersey just like the rest of you. As Namjoon darts into the gym to check on the set-up, Yoongi stands in front of his team’s line-up as you all patiently wait to be called into the gym. Being fully aware that you’ll be stuck waiting for a couple of minutes, a smile quips on Seokjin’s lips.

“It’s going to be quite the game out there.” He sighs, a cheeky stare directed at you, “Don’t you think, Y/N?”

You wonder why he would even consider focusing on you when you’re currently using Taehyung as a shield and avoiding all eye-contact, but when you hesitate and try to answer, another voice cuts in.

“It sure is. Starting off nationals by defeating your team is definitely going to be a treat.”

You naively blink for a moment when Yoongi smirks, crossing his arms and standing head to head with Seokjin. Anyone in a distance can see the pure electricity brewing in between them from the way they stare at each other and you notice that Yoongi’s response almost pulls something else out of Seokjin, his friendly demeanour diminishing.

“You’re crossing bit of a line, Captain Min.” Seokjin presses, aware that Yoongi was throwing these words out in the open where everyone including the opposing team can hear them.

Yoongi however, frankly doesn’t seem to care. He steps forward, startling you a bit when he abruptly stands right in front of you.

“You’ve already crossed a line, Captain Kim.” Yoongi grits out, your eyes widening when the air between them grows even thicker. Taking a sideways glance at Taehyung, you realize he’s grinning at Yoongi’s posture and for some reason, it makes you suddenly extremely flustered.

Thankfully, Namjoon soon returns. Yoongi steps back and gets into the line-up, listening intently as Namjoon quickly briefs the entire team.

The gym doors finally crack open and a tsunami of roars erupt into the air. Your eyes can only dramatically widen at the sight of the bleachers, rows of people lined up on their seats just to see you play. The large fluorescent lights hanging on the ceiling give you a clear view of the many faces present, including a handful that have you breaking out into a huge grin.

Junki is standing up and enthusiastically waving in your direction, Yoonji sitting beside him with her legs crossed and a knowing smirk on her features. Your eyes are drawn over to the elder man seated adjacent to her, a deep scowl maring his lips at the unforeseen raise of volume near him. When you do make eye contact, his expression naturally doesn’t change in the slightest, but you genuinely smile when his line of sight is seemingly attached to Yoongi’s every step.

You tug on the back of Yoongi’s jersey and he swivels, taking a glimpse in your direction in bewilderment until you maneuver him to look in that one single spot in the bleachers. His eyes make contact with his father’s right away and neither display a reaction. However, your eyes grow tender when Yoongi scoffs, a small unmistaken smile gracing his lips.

Once you’re left standing in the centre of the court, you can only marvel at how different your gym appears. Since the stakes are immensely higher now, your gym appears to have been redesigned to compensate for a larger crowd and competitive game. The lines that are used on the grounds are now outstretched for more room, the bleachers have been expanded to fit around the entire room and the lights flashing above the new and improved scoreboard are more eye-catching.

You’re almost taken back to the game you and Yoongi watched in the stadium, everything being on a much grander scale with hiked up tensions.

After you’ve had your fair share of gaping at the court in pure awe, you redirect your focus back onto the team surrounding you. This time around, Namjoon had chosen you, Yoongi, Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin to play, creating a nicer blend of offense and defense compared to the last time you had faced off with this team.

Speaking of which, you can only anxiously catch glimpses at Yoongi every so often when he’s basically glaring at Seokjin from across him, the latter only growing more and more relied up as Yoongi surprisingly doesn’t appear to be backing down. You take a deep breath, the spiteful memories of what occurred last time still remaining all too fresh in the back of your mind.

The referee strides in, adorned in a bright black and white shirt with a whistle strung around his neck and the light in the room reflecting off the basketball he carries. Standing right in front of Seokjin and Yoongi, he takes a quick survey around to ensure all players are remaining inside the lines before he resumes his attention back to the basketball.

“This is game one out of ten. Whichever team secures victory today will advance into game two of nationals and be a step forward to earning the title for this year’s league.” The referee declares, his voice resonating through the large speakers positioned at each end of the basket. “First team to three points wins.”

Everyone nods in a consensus as the referee’s eyes roam around. He grabs onto his whistle, bringing it to his mouth and eliciting the whole crowd to calm down, the room cutting into a tense silence.

The sharp sound of the whistle breaks it as the basketball is launched into the air, Seokjin and Yoongi both simultaneously lunging for it. Yoongi strikes the side of it with his fist and the ball goes slamming onto the ground, resulting in a cascade of scrambling from every person present on the court.

Jungkook manages to get a grasp on the basketball, accelerating his speed tenfold to avoid all the eager hands in his path. His feet skate against the floor until a sudden impact from behind loosens his grip, a member on the opposing team racing towards your basket.

You and Jimin jump at the opportunity of halting him in his steps, but he still tries to bypass it and takes a shot.

His aim thankfully doesn’t allow for that and Jimin hurriedly snatches up the ball before passing it along to you. Hoseok catches your sight and you throw it in his direction, his legs skyrocketing in order to clasp onto the flying ball.

But when Hoseok turns, he’s completely surrounded. He tries his best to somehow soar through it all, however it soon morphs into a game of cat and mouse when the ball gets passed back and forth.

The loud buzzer breaks the vigor of the game, your eyes landing on the giant red timer that has run out of it’s minutes. The referee blows his whistle and you all intervene at the centre again, this time huffing compared to before.

Seokjin takes charge of the ball this time, swooping to pass it to one of his members behind him. You recall his strategy of bulleting through the swarm of players to get a point within a couple of seconds, but his plans are foiled when Yoongi intercepts the ball.

A tick leaves him when he’s left with no empty space, becoming increasingly trapped the longer he searches for a member to pass the ball to. But when your shoes loudly squeak behind him, Yoongi grits his teeth and practically throws the ball in your direction before he’s completely overtaken by the other team.

You eye the disappearing numbers on the timer when you pivot around, taking notice of Jungkook’s jersey number flashing by from the corner of your eye. Hastily propelling the ball over to him, Jungkook considers the time you have as well when he decides to increase his speed immensely.

You sprint alongside him, navigating yourself against the sea of people as he reaches the basket. He shoots before they can catch up to him and you stand beneath the basket, prepared to send the ball in his direction in case he misses.

He doesn’t.

A sigh of relief leaves you the same time the buzzer resonates through the room. Jungkook high-fives you with an exhausted smile and you swipe the perspiration dripping from your face before jogging back into position.

When the ball is tossed into the air again, Seokjin catches it. Despite all of Yoongi’s strikes at retrieving the ball, he soars past him and throws it to one of his members.

Hoseok is the first one up on his heels, bolting across the court to somehow deflect the ball. It nicks past his fingertips and lands into the opposing team’s hands, who then races over to your basket.

Although Jimin jumps to push the ball out of the member’s grasp, it ends up heading straight for the hoop and the buzzer sounds.

The scoreboard illuminates the giant one to one ratio and you narrow your eyes at the timer, fifteen minutes having flown by like they were mere seconds. Resuming your stance on the court, the referee signals for the next game to begin and you instantly race for the opportunity.

Yoongi is successful with getting the basketball in his clutches, whirling around to send it in your direction. You then pass it over to Jimin, who unfortunately gets intercepted by one of Seokjin’s members, the ball escaping from his hands and passed down to the opposing team’s captain instead.

As soon as Seokjin starts sprinting, Jungkook tailgates after him. The captain is cut short of options with Jungkook’s constant blocking, the pent-up frustration building inside him when he takes a sudden pause and is forced to scan around.

One of his members comes into view and he has no choice but to try his luck. The ball is propelled towards that member, their hands so close to grasping it until another firm hand shoots out.

You wince when the ball practically smacks against your hand, but you keep a tightened grip on it and clench your teeth. Hoseok appears in sight and you bounce it towards him, hope spiking within you as he grabs it and the air swooshes near him.

Carefully eyeing the timer, you can only pray that he gets to the basket before the buzzer sounds, but it seems like he ran into some trouble when the ball is smacked out of his hands. Your eyes widen when the direction is suddenly changed, your basket left guarded only by Jimin.

With a shape inhale, you’re left scurrying over to the player that has his hands on the basketball, intercepting right away when he shoots. Gritting your teeth, your feet dramatically escalate and you begin sprinting up a storm while avoiding any of the other’s team attempts. Everything morphs into a blur when all you know is that you’re running out of time and the sooner the ball in your hands gets into the basket, the sooner you’ll be at winning this game.

You hastily hurl the basketball into the hoop, gasping for air when your feet land back onto the ground. It sinks right in and the buzzer loudly resonates, but you nearly collapse onto your knees.

“Half-time!” The referee declares, allowing both teams to have a ten-minute break before resuming the game. You pant in relief, the sound of your teammate’s voice tugging you out of your immediate exhaustion.

“Nice one Y/N!” Hoseok places his hands on your shoulders, nearly toppling over you in the process.

Jungkook and Taehyung soon follow, slumping onto the ground abruptly in a way that makes you laugh. Yoongi marches over as well, his eyes quirking up at how Hoseok is practically glued to you. He pokes him with his foot, directing his gaze to the spot next to you.

Hoseok slides over and Yoongi plops down, appearing as fatigued as the rest of the members around you. It’s a little strange to see your team tired out so soon when this is normally how you appear after the game is done, but you’re aware that nationals is a whole other story.

Namjoon finds all of you on the floor, having jogged over with a handful of water bottles in his hands. He chuckles when there’s a collective sigh of gratitude from his appearance, handing them out to every member before he sits down too.

“We just need one more point.” Namjoon hurriedly states, eyes flickering over to the giant illuminated scoreboard, “How are you guys feeling so far?”

“Like I’m dying.” Yoongi sarcastically mutters, earning a baffled look from Namjoon. He lowers his water bottle down, pointing at the other team, “What do you think are the chances of them catching up?”

“It’s hard to say…” Namjoon narrows his eyes at Seokjin, a questionable gaze in them, “I’m more worried about the Captain than anything else.”

“I agree.” Yoongi takes a sip of his water, eyeing the timer.

“We won’t have much time to finish this game, so we need to make every minute count.” You all nod at Yoongi’s words, too aware that the only way to win this match is to get ahead.

After the ten minutes are done, you strain against your body to stand up. You’re extremely grateful when Yoongi reaches out a hand and tugs you up, the soreness radiating in your legs not aiding you much with the matter.

Heading back to the court, your eyes scan the opposite team. They appear to be in the same condition as the majority of you – heavy breaths escaping them and their jersey’s absolutely drenched with sweat. It gives some hope that you’re not the only ones suffering underneath the brutality of the game conditions, luckily recuperating enough to make it onto the court once more.

You instantly snap into action at the sound of the whistle. Seokjin snatches up the ball, seemingly more determined now to knab a basket than ever before.

Yoongi is right on his toes every time Seokjin checks around for someone to pass the ball to. He ends up being blocked entirely and the ball lands in Jimin’s hands, who dribbles and sprints away.

You accelerate your speed so that Jimin has someone to transfer it to, but unfortunately he spots Jungkook surrounded and decides to give it to him instead.

The ball barely makes it to him and Seokjin secures it in his grasp once again. He quickly tosses it to another one of his members and before you can do anything, the ball loops through your basket.

You sigh in exasperation and Yoongi appears right beside you, his keen eyes observing the scoreboard.

You know exactly what he’s thinking when the two matching numbers appear.

You were tied.

Being cornered into a box now, the next step you take can make or break your next step into nationals. With an unwavering stare and tightened jaw, you wait for the referee to make his way back to the middle of the court.

Sucking in a sharp inhale, the last whistle of today’s game is blown and you practically bolt. Your feet loudly trample against the floor when Yoongi has grabbed the ball, stretching out your arms in a desperate attempt for him to pass to you.

Your vision is completely blocked.

Your brows contort at the sudden appearance in front of you, scattering to catch a glimpse of the basketball when you are yet again seeing nothing but the large font of the opposing team’s jersey. From the corner of your eye, the timer is rapidly decreasing and the crowd is peaking with their cheers so with a clench of your fists, you pace yourself and create your own view.

Seokjin runs right when you do, his last resort turning out to be a repetition of the last game you had with him. However, this time it’s no longer taken as a storm of surprise by you.

Yoongi finds your eyes right away and he takes a long jump, sending the ball flying over. A huge smile gracing your lips when it makes contact with your hands and you begin dribbling towards the opposite team’s basket.

Yoongi seems to catch on what exactly the captain following you is doing, so he ensures he has enough space for you to keep making passes to him when he gets close. The strategy seemingly works out and you find yourself right below the basket, quickly swiveling to see the timer running to it’s dear end.

Before anyone gets ahead of you, the risky move of taking the final shot is placed into your hands as the ball is sent whirling towards the basket. Deep heaves are escaping you by the minute as you anxiously watch, eyes widening and your hands coming across to cover your mouth when it plunges in.

The loud buzzer rings and for a moment, everything tunes out. You’re trembling to the verge of frantically shaking and tears well up in your eyes. When you twist around, you see the shock overcoming Yoongi’s exhausted features for a split second before they solidify into absolute joy.

All you can do is smile and tightly embrace him back when he tugs you into his arms, the exhilaration drumming through him.

“You did it!” Yoongi exclaims, separating from you in awe as you sheepishly smile. “I could just kiss you right now.”

Both your eyes widen at the words he’s just blurted out and Yoongi completely separates from you in realization. A small giggle bubbles up in you from his embarrassment, but soon you’re being embraced by a clutter of your own teammates.

“WE WON!” Hoseok shrieks, his loud voice in your ear making you wince.

“We’re heading into round two!!” Jungkook joins in, eyes crinkled and a wide grin on his lips. Jimin smiles graciously next to him, ecstatic with the victory.

“Yah, don’t get so happy yet. We still have nine more games to go.” Yoongi scolds, though Namjoon comes up behind him and laughs.

“At least we overcame the first obstacle Yoongi.” He smiles, “Really good work guys. Looks like all that training and hard work paid off, you should be really proud of yourselves.”

You warmly grin at that, feeling someone poke the side of your arm. Twisting around, Yoonji holds a smug smile.

“That was a good game.” She admits, “You guys aren’t so bad at this after all.”

“Yoonji, how could you say that!?” Junki’s voice breaks out, “It was so amazing to watch. You two were fantastic!”

He darts his eyes frantically between you and Yoongi, a bashful smile curling at the corner of your lips. But Yoongi’s victorious expression completely falls when a third person approaches him, your eyes widening.

“I suppose you were decent…” His father mumbles, still holding an impassable expression.

Yoongi’s lips quirk up, his words firm, “I’m going to continue playing either way.”

His father hums, but there’s no distaste in his tone anymore, “Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen and you can feel him shift next to you to say something, but his father turns to Junki and Yoonji.

“Let’s get going now.” You smile when he gestures to not hold the exhausted team up for any longer to Yoongi’s brother and sister. You return Junki’s wave and Yoonji’s smile, watching them depart.

When you face Yoongi, you catch the soft smile he holds from the interaction, his eyes tenderly meeting yours. His smile ends up being contagious and you eventually reach out your hand, letting him tightly hold onto you.

***

The aftermath of the game is like a wave of ecstasy.

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won, that you’ve taken the first step towards the dream you had been endlessly chasing after for so long. The cherry on top was to see Yoongi’s father appear at the game, his demeanour shifting from the last time you had seen him and the lasting effects of it being apparent on Yoongi.

That being said, you glance down at the device clutched firmly in your hands. Your thoughts are aimlessly swimming, bouncing back and forth the longer you simply stare at it.

With a rush of encouragement, you call back.

On the second ring, a voice speaks. “Hello?”

“Uh, I-“ You suddenly stammer, attempting to recollect yourself, “I-It’s me…Y/N.”

The line on the other side goes completely silent and you tap your feet against the ground, the cool breeze outside of the gym nipping at your skin.

“Y/N?” There’s a mixture of shock and awe, something that actually manages to make you smile, “You finally called back, we tried so many times–“

“I know.” You whisper, voice beginning to break, “I-I just didn’t know how to tell you….”

“How dare you not call us back Y/N?! So much has happened to your brother and we wanted to at least give you the chance to hear about his good news!” You deeply sigh at the implications, continuing to listen to the ongoing rambles, “First place Y/N! He won first place! They were literally singing praises about him and we felt so prou–“

“I changed schools,” You quietly mutter, letting out a shaky exhale and squeezing your eyes shut, “and started playing competitive basketball.”

Silence greets you once again.

“You WHAT?!”

“I won my first game today.” Your grip on the phone tightens, “I’ll be moving into the second round of nationals.”

“Y/N….” The layer of disappointment that causes a wave of tears to well up in your eyes, “Why did you change schools for basketball? And you have to stop lying to yourself already, there’s no way you could have made it to nationals. You need to come back right this instant an–“

“I won.” You repeat, but the words no longer seem to hold weight anymore, “I-I wanted you to be happy for me.”

Before you can hear any other blunder of why basketball is a horrible choice and that it’s something you won’t make it in, the phone call is cut off. Water streams down your cheeks and you lightly laugh, wondering to yourself why you let the rush of euphoria from the game convince you that things would have at least changed by now.

Letting out a sniffle, you discard the device back into your pocket and pivot around, only to be frozen in your tracks when your eyes come into contact with Yoongi’s.

His arms are crossed as he leans against the wall, but the dejected look in his eyes is decipherable enough. He pushes himself off from it, striding over you as you hurriedly attempt to wipe away the excess from your eyes, but then he embraces you and everything else is forgotten.

You’re not sure why hugging him almost elicits a whirlwind of tears to unleash from your eyes, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind when your sobs are being muffled by his jersey. He leans down to your ear and he whispers the string of words you’ve been so desperate to hear, being all too aware that you wouldn’t be receiving them from those that mattered the most to you.

“I’m proud of you.”

80 notes · View notes

eury--dice · 3 years

Text

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

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weaponmistress · 3 years

Text

"I’m easily excitable but definitely an ambivert, knowing when to bring myself down a level to match the room’s vibe. I’m definitely more hyper and outspoken than most, when I’m around friends or friends of friends. I can be a clutz and probably joke around too much.

Virgo

Panromantic

In a relationship I can be physically distant since physical intimacy leaves me uncomfortable sometimes. However I still try to give my partner enough physical affection and intimacy so they aren’t left feeling unloved. My particular love language is gift giving and also words of affirmation. I do my best to be my partners hype man, if you would.

I’ve played sports through my school years and I also play video games sometimes. In both instances I can get a bit competitive. (I definitely don’t wake my parents yelling at a screen at 2 AM)."

Requested By: @shoogarcube

I'm not the best at taking zodiac into account but I still try to incorporate some qualities of it so it won't just be discarded along the way.

I'm sorry this took a bit long, I was hesitant on reaching out to you because i'm a bit embarrassed about it. (´∩｡• 3 •｡∩`)

But here it is, I hope that you'll enjoy!!

Thank you so much for requesting! <33

Haikyuu Edition! Matchup Season.

I would pair you up with...

Kozume Kenma

🎮 Bb cat baby boi.

🎮 He doesn't mind that you're not into physical intimacy.

🎮 Respects your boundaries. (whatta man)

🎮 Kenma's the type to be distant too, so he understands you.

🎮 He shows his affection in small ways that a few of his friends, like Kuroo, knows that it isn't common of him to do a certain action.

🎮 "Let's play a ranked game."

🎮 As a pro-player in the gaming community, his ranks in several competitive games are his prized posessions. Nobody can tell me that he isn't a pro-player even way before he was introduced as one after the timeskip.

🎮 Isn't surprise that you're actually good at this one game he likes to play right after an exhausting game.

🎮 He wasn't holding back whenever he plays with you because apparently, you can see through him. He has this certain gesture he does that meant he was holding back.

🎮 You got too competitive that you actually won.

🎮 "Hey, I won!"

🎮 "I probably need to find a new game to play..."

🎮 Smiles when he sees your bright twinkling eyes when you won against him.

🎮 "Whoa...is it really going to be released earlier?"

🎮 He doesn't know that you have your way with things.

🎮 He occasionally gets his information from you about the early bird release of a new game that was fairly popular for their trial game.

"Can't believe that the employee in the game shop didn't told me about this..."

🎮 He can get hype when he sees you so hyper.

🎮 Sometimes whenever he goes on a weekend training with his team, you'd join in the training but most of the time you're on your own watching him from afar when they do a informal practice match.

🎮 Is so motivated to do works when you're there that it legits surprises his teammates to the core???

🎮 Only when they notice that you were his main source of hyperness will they start teasing him.

🎮 He doesn't get so worked up during practices, they remembered way before he met you and started seeing you officially, Hinata was the only guy on the court to give everything his best.

🎮 "Sh-shut up...go back to your position...!"

🎮 Durings official games, in volleyball or in gaming, he makes sure to look at you and respond back to your cheers and whoopings that's directed to him.

🎮 "NICE FEINT, KENMA!"

🎮 When he hears you cheer, he flashes you one of his shy smiles.

🎮 Gets flustered when Kuroo notices it.

🎮 "I just really want to acknowledge her cheers so it won't go to waste."

🎮 Gets so focused on the game because he didn't want to disappoint you.

🎮 Super motivated Kenma on full motion!!

🎮 He'd be super tired after the game though.

🎮 "You're so cool! It's so hard to do a feint that casually! You set so nice!"

🎮 His social battery just went a bit high because of your praises.

🎮 It can give him an ego boost, no one knows this except the two of you.

🎮 He's impressed when he gets some extra information from you about the next team they'll be facing against.

🎮 Strategizes with you that can help him and his team to overwhelm the opponents.

🎮 So thankful that he has somebody to point out some small errors of him or his teammates that he wasn't able to notice before.

🎮 "Ah, I didn't notice that a while back, thank you."

🎮 He's so grateful to have a s/o who knows how to match up with the vibe. He's pretty much a chill kind of guy who can't keep up with every exhausting activity,

🎮 Except volleyball, that's the only thing he'll exert extra effort,

🎮 You too, but he won't see you as exhausting to handle, just somebody who he'd want to show how he's so grateful for being there with him.

🎮 Plays volleyball with you, whatever position you're comfortable with, he'd likely adjust to you if you want to be in a certain position that him, being setter, isn't the best to play with you.

🎮 Would ask everytime if it's alright to you if he kisses you or hugs you just to make sure he doesn't misinterpret.

🎮 "Um...is it alright for me to...uh..."

🎮 He gets so shy and quiet the first time he asked.

🎮 Eventually, he'll get used to reading your small actions and would know when he can.

🎮 He thinks that kissing you on the forehead is affectionate and at the same time, a somewhat safe spot for him to kiss that wouldn't catch you by shock.

🎮 "Look, Kenma, kids!"

🎮 He inadvertently hides behind your back when a child comes up to you.

🎮 Doesn't hate kids but are kinda scared of them, He could imagine a kid running around in his house, eventually ruining his expensive build of his pc.

🎮 You help him interact with the kid and he do as you told him to do.

🎮 He won't grow fond of them even after years of being with you, but will try to not make the child cry because of him.

🎮 Will absolutely not babysit.

🎮 Actually knows how to cook, just not some complex meal.

🎮 "Ice cream!"

🎮 He likes seeing you all so smiley whenever he buys you some sweet desserts.

🎮 "You got some cream on the corner of your lips."

🎮 Chuckles when he sees you reach for it to lick it off.

🎮 Will eat the cherry if the order comes with one.

🎮 He could take some heat, what can spicy food do to him anyway?

🎮 He enjoys some spicy food, low to medium spiciness level, but unfortunately his stomach says otherwise.

🎮 Would feel his stomach growling in displease when he smells your food when you feel like eating something spicier than usual, the sharp spicy smell struck him.

🎮 "Ugh, you enjoy this...?"

🎮 "Of course!"

🎮 Has a pet cat only because you love cats.

🎮 He grows fond of it and doesn't mind too much when it causes some mess.

🎮 When he goes out to buy his games, he sees a particular game that you've been talking about for a week.

🎮 When he comes home, your presence welcomes him warmly.

🎮 It's been years since he moved out and settled in an apartment near the university he was attending. It was pretty lonely but he didn't mind until you came along. It feels more like home whenever you feel like crashing in his place. He feels that every time you're not in the apartment, it truly feels emptier than he remembered.

🎮 "I went to buy my game and saw this game you want, I bought you some spicy snacks on my way home too."

Bonus!

Second Pick: Akaashi Keiji

🏐 He is totally fine if you don't get physically intimate with him all the time. He sees you being affectionate in your own ways anyway, maybe people would judge but,

🏐 They're not in the relationship so???

🏐 He feels so special and loved when you tried to be intimate with him.

🏐 Same as Kenma, he'd ask you if you're up for some cuddle session, some kisses here and there. He'll eventually learn when you feel like receiving some too.

🏐Cooks you food especialy to your liking,

🏐 Asks you if you wanna make desserts with him,

🏐 "How about it, love?"

🏐 "Yes please!"

🏐 Encourages you to do your tasks but won't pressure you if you don't feel like it.

🏐 Helps you in anyway he can.

🏐 "If you need me to do something, don't hesitate to ask for my help."

🏐 If you feel like doing some of your hobbies and you decide to show the result to him, you know he'd look at it silently with starry eyes.

🏐 "This looks so pretty!"

🏐 Nicknames, he gets soft when you come up with a few cute nicknames.

🏐 he's a very soft bb.

🏐 When you tripped out of nowhere, his fast reflexes get the better of him, and will hold you to steady yourself.

🏐 If you get a scratch because of a random fall, he'll make sure to patch it up even if it's minor.

🏐 "Please be careful, alright love?"

Third Pick: Sugawara Kōshi

🏐 He cherishes every hugs, kisses, basically everything you give.

🏐 His hobby is to pamper you with a lot of things he bought.

🏐 Cooks you some spicy food!

🏐 The two of you can share because looking at Kōshi, he's full of surprises.

🏐 He can handle any spicy food, and could compete with you.

🏐 Probably eats something spicy to compete with your tolerance for spiciness.

🏐 "I bet that I can eat spicier than you can!"

🏐 Naturally competitive too, so your bondings would consist of little competitions here and there.

🏐 Would be bad in video games from the start,

🏐 but in the end, he's slightly better than before.

It's an improbement you have to say.

🏐 Always loses to you, but won't get all sulky about it.

🏐 Gets all fired up when you play on your own against some random strangers,

🏐 "YES, GO CRUSH THEM, HONEY!"

Fourth Pick: Shirofuku Yukie

🏐 Praises you on the regular.

🏐 Actually good at video games, but she turns humble,

🏐 "I'm not that good."

🏐 Actually wins with perfect scores.

🏐 Gets pretty competitive too when it comes to food, and protective of her food, but when it comes to you, she's going to give you a piece or two.

🏐 "You're lucky that I love you..."

#Kozume Kenma #Kenma hq #Akaashi Keiji #Akaashi hq #Sugawara Kōshi #Sugawara hq #Shirofuku Yukie #Shirofuku hq #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq!!#haikyuu matchup #haikyuu matchups #matchups #open for requests

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spyoikawa · 3 years

Text

Hihi! I'm alive! Battling this history competition, but I'll make it!

So let's jump back into these requests starting with, @wakatoshiswife

(sorry I lost the request so I'll copy/paste below the line break!)

(and I am once again on a different electronic, so sorry if this looks different, I will format it to look correct later)

Request: Hello! I saw that you’re doing matchups for valentines! I’d like to request for one too if that is okay :) I’d like to matched up with a guy please...I’m a 160cm girl, ISTJ/ESTJ (I’m an ambivert), my enneagram is type 8. My zodiac sign is cancer. I have black curly hair (type 3B hair) and my eye colour is brown. At first glance, people often think I’m mean bcs I have really think eyebrows and I have a resting b face. However once you get to know me, I’m pretty fun. My hobbies are gaming, baking and editing. The characters I kin are Sakurajima Mai, Light Yagami & Osamu Miya. I enjoy working out as well! Especially jogging on a cold morning/evening. I love watching formula 1 and I would watch football if it means getting to bond with my partner/friends. I play any sports but I like volleyball and badminton the most. I also enjoy cooking Asian cuisine as I am asian, I’m a mixed Persian-Indian. My favourite weather is Autumn as it matches my aesthetic and overall aura and vibe. My favourite colour is red as if I were to be a colour based off my personality, I’d be red. Although I look best in nudes, black, white and purple...I also have the best music taste ever. I’m the chill friend in the whole group. I am very very laidback, in fact I can be a little too laidback at times but it’s nothing bad, I know when too loosen up and when to get serious, hence this is why I’m often (almost every time) a leader. I’m quite the procrastinator and the last minute person but I always know what I’m doing so its all good. I’m confident in what I do and I stand strong for what I believe in. Words, will not hurt me unless it’s said by directed to an insecurity of mine. I hate losing. I’m that one competitive friend that hates losing but I never go too much yk. I’m pretty chill when it comes to competition, that meaning, I don’t show how competitive I am. I have a blank face as I’m competing with others. I always strive to win even if it means winning in a ridiculous way, however I won’t drag it too much as I hate when a small problem gets really really big bcs people keep making it big although it’s just a minor problem (I’m so sorry if you don’t understand T^T). I’m kind, polite and pretty mature but not too mature as I don’t want my adolescent to go to waste. Therefore I try my best to loosen and up and relax! If I were to go on an outing with my friends and they’re being noisy and loud in public, instead of telling them to quiet down, I’ll leave them there so I don’t get embarrassed 🗿. I hate creating a scene in public. I’m not a fan of popularity unless it’s for a good cause. Therefore, I’m a private person with around 15 people in my circle and I enjoy it this way :) I’m also very passionate in what I do. I’m very ambitious and my hogwarts house is syltherin. I know what I’m doing as for now and I love to plan ahead so it won’t be chaotic. I’m 100% a leader and my personality is very dominant. However when it comes to relationships, I’m 100% the submissive (or switch? I’m not sure) one bcs I am very shy to actually initiate anything. My preference in a partner is someone who’s dominant and he wouldn’t mind losing for me. If I were to be an animal, I’d be a wolf or a tiger but as for my partner, I’d like him to be a wolf or a lion but deep down he’s just a bear 🥰. I also prefer guys who aren’t loud, like quiet guys but not too quiet. Ones who talk when they need to, as I’m not rly fond of people who talk a lot a lot. It can be quite annoying and I’ll probably end up accidentally hurting them. I’m so sorry if this is too long bcs I think I went overboard. Thank you so much and have a nice day :D

Alright, thank you so much for this request, and thank you for being patient with me! I'm glad I got a nice long request to get back into the jist of things! And I never like to assume, but I feel like I've been bugging you, so I'm gonna assume you were requesting tulips-

anyhoo, without further ado (lol that rhymes)

Rion's Flower Shop! Today we have Tulips! I match you up with

Kuroo Tetsuro

relationship dynamic

- its actually quite nice! A perfect balance of similarities and opposites!

- and those said opposites are harmonious!

- you guys are both admirable leaders in your own way, and can often cooperate together, and despite different approaches, reach the same goal

- both of you are really confident in your talents and areas and you use that a lot to your advantages

- he's lowkey scared of your poker face but will never admit it

- despite this, the little perks and habits the two of you have are quite amusing

- he still struggles to see how tf you get work done when you procrastinate so much, but is honestly amazed by it

- and the competitiveness you share drive the 2 of you to keep moving forward

- it's always nice to have someone supportive of you (and you 2 are, don't get me wrong) but it's also nice to have some friendly banter and competition, whether it be over music, which teams are better, opinions, which food type is best, etc.

- it keeps you two on your toes

- and (as I mentioned earlier), although the two of you can keep going back and forth, you can also lean on each other, and trust one another for support.

- he can count on you to show up to some of his games and you can count on him to have your back you want to try something new or show him your hobbies

- you guys are also there emotionally, he will always be there watching your back, and cheering you up or proving people wrong after particularly harsh, uncalled for comments, because he knows how you really are and that those people are talking bs :)

- and you do the same for him, to cheer him up, let him know he's a good captain and friend. And although he doesn't show it as much when he's older, he still gets nervous in social situations and he can count on you to be a constant in new areas

What you guys do together/ What's it like with them

- this can either be the most fun relationship or the most comforting, laid back one ever!

- and honestly both are good choices

- neither of you really want to lose your childhood, cause you only get it once

- so it's not uncommon to try out new hobbies or experience new things together to make the most of this time you have

- there are a lot of firsts with him because of that

- he doesn't mind having fun out in public, like that's the point of going out to him, but he also agrees with not wanting to cause trouble, one) that shit's embarrassing 2) he knows it'll make you, himself, and others uncomfortable, so there's really no need to do something uncalled for

- however, despite all the fun of childhood, it's also good to have calm, quiet moments in certain relationships, such as this one

- he doesn't mind, and actually quite enjoys indoor dates, like studying together or watching your favorite movies/shows

- that gives him a chance to be and focus on you only, and maybe get to know you better

- no matter what you do, you two have a silent understanding of what you enjoy, don't enjoy, and what each others needs and wants are

- and he also understands how you might not like to initiate things, he can understand to a degree

- for a while it's a matter of who will make the first move, but once he gets comfortable, he won't mind initiating it for you :D

What they like about you

- he likes your overall personality tbh

- how you can be so laid back yet confident at the same time

- yet also sweet and nice to others

- it's a nice mixture where he doesn't need to force his personality out and express everything that comes his way, but he also doesn't need to shrink to avoid overwhelming you

- and although he likes to take the charge, he likes that you can be dominant at times too, sometimes he'd rather just leave things to you, because he knows he'll like what you like

- it also feels easy for him to talk to you

- he doesn't know why but he finds himself expressing his opinions and sharing things he'd usually keep guarded with you, because he trusts you enough to understand and not share with others

- overall, its the understanding for him :)

- and he's taking this to the grave, but he's also a firm believer that slytherins should stick together

alrighty, to be completely honest, idk how I did on this one, so please, if you did not like the style of writing or the character I matched you up with, please let me know! I will gladly rewrite it for you!

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo headcanons #kuroo hcs #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #haikyuu matchups #oririon flowershop event #damn did i really forget my own tag-

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 4 years

Note

Can I please request of Yang and Blake of an au dance contest of the two doing the forbidden dance and win the contest

Here’s your forbidden dance au for the bees. I had no idea what I was doing or if it came as well as it should. It’s definitely out of my comfort zone and I hope it came out okay.

So here everyone. Have some bees with sexual tension, dirty dancing, assertive Blake and Adam being put in his place.

I am so sorry if it’s bad. I am a simple asexual trying my best. I had to watch a couple dance videos on YouTube to get an idea of what to write.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Blake adjusted her dress and smirked as she caught Yang’s eyes. The woman wasn’t subtle at all. Blake laughed to her self quietly as Yang turned away with an embarrassed huff.

Originally, when they had been assigned as dance partners for this competition, she had been very hesitant. She had never danced with a woman before, after all. But she had quickly learned that she liked it. She liked it a lot. Especially with Yang. She was strong and powerful and Blake could feel it in every movement and touch. Each time that Yang threw her around her body and dipped her, Blake could sense the power beneath her skin. And yet… there was a gentleness to her. She never left marks like her ex-partner did. She always took care to make sure that Blake felt comfortable and safe with the steps. She was a sweetheart. And Blake loved every single thing about her. Hopefully, after they finish this competition, she could make Yang aware of these feelings. Although, she suspected that Yang already knew.

Blake briefly did once over on her outfit. A black crop top with a tasteful cut out design across the chest and mini skirt to match. She felt, for lack of a better phrase, hot. But she felt like she paled in comparison to Yang who wore long white trousers and a white button down shirt that had the top three buttons undone.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.” Yang murmured as she came up to stand on Blake’s right, leaning down to speak into her ear. Blake felt a shiver run down her spine. Turning to her partner, she noticed Yang’s lips twist into a self-satisfied smirk. She noticed.

“Just focus on the dance and not my ass this time.” Blake smirked back. This was their dynamic. They had left the Gal Pal station a while ago. All that was left was for a move to be made.

“You ready for this?” Yang asked, expression shifting to concern. “I know that Adam’s going to be here. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Blake sighed before her own expression changed. Hers, however became sharp and determined. “I’ll be even better when we win this thing and kick his ass” Blake growled.

“Damn.” Yang breathed. “You’re kind of hot when you’re feisty.” She laughed.

“Oh baby.” Blake grinned wickedly at her partner. “You have no idea.”

“Can we have a round of applause for our reining champion Adam Taurus and his new partner Cinder Fall!”

Blake narrowed her eyes and curled her lip. Adam has worked her to the bone when they were together. He had no respect for what she felt okay with and expected far too much of her. This was her time to prove to everyone that she didn’t need him.

“Now y’all are in for some drama folks. Because next we have Adam’s ex-partner Blake Belladonna and her new partner Yang Xiao Long!”

Blake smirked when the applause came. They remembered her. They knew what she was capable of. And they knew that she was going to give them a show.

“Blake, how does it feel to be back?” The announcer asked excitedly as she walked up wrapped around Yang’s arm.

“It feels amazing. Especially since I now have a partner who has… well. Let’s call it... stamina, shall we?” She chuckled. She knew exactly what she was doing with that comment. And as expected, the audience lost their minds. When she glanced at Adam, his smug expression fell into a snarl. Blake merely smirked.

“Oh, ouch! The Panther strikes!” The announcer snickered, thoroughly enjoying the drama. “And what about you, Yang? You’re pretty new to the competing scene. How’s it feel to be dancing with Blake “Panther” Belladonna?”

“Pretty great man. I’m pumped!” Yang grinned.

“Think you can win?”

“Sure thing, buddy. After all…” Blake watched a dangerous smile curl Yang’s lips. “Girls do it better. In more ways than one.”

The crowd ate it up. The two women shared a look, identical smirks covering their faces before they moved into position.

As the music started, Blake lifted her arms and curled them above her head as her hips dipped and rotated. She turned around, hips rolling as she swayed. As the music built up, Yang prowled towards her, eyes locked on hers and intense, body held strong and powerful. Blake kept swaying and shifting her hips as Yang walked around her, hand trailing around her body slowly as she came up behind Blake and grabbed her hands, slowly lowering them out to the sides as they started moving in perfect synch. As Blake slowly lowered herself to the floor and back up, Yang crossed her arms and pulled her close, leading her into a series of steps forward.

When the music reached the crescendo, Yang spun Blake around and dipped her back, pressing their hips together and rolling her upper body in a circle before pulling her up. The two exchanged steps in between each other’s thighs, hands roaming over ribs and down backs.

When the finale came up, Blake ripped away from Yang and pushed Yang’s shoulders back. She lowered her self to the floor, hips swaying all the while, keeping her hands on Yang’s body at all times. As she came up, Blake trailed her hands up Yang’s abs and pressed against her open collar. As planned, she abruptly ripped her partner’s shirt open and pushed it behind her shoulders, revealing a completely black sports bra. Yang even had the audacity to throw in a cheeky wink to Adam and Blake was sure she heard an outraged scream of “What does she even see in her!”

Yang kept shifting her hips as Blake stalked around her. After all, she had earned the nickname “Panther” for a reason. She had a certain style of walking that created a certain air of danger for the audience. It was always a hit.

When she arrived at Yang’s back, she wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her into a dip, her own skirt riding up slightly. As the music came to its last beat, they pressed close together and moved their mouths near each other until there was nearly no space in between and paused.

The crowd erupted into applause and the two girls stood up. Blake let out a delighted giggle and threw herself into Yang’s arms who wasted no time in picking her up and spinning her around.

Eventually though, their celebration had to be cut short. As they waited for the votes to be counted, Blake playfully glared at Yang.

“You could close your shirt. I was careful not to break the buttons.” She scolded with a smirk.

“Nah. This way, Adam can see how much he’s been upgraded.” Yang said with a wink. But before Blake could speak, the announcer’s voice cut through.

“And the winners are… Blake Belladonna And Yang Xiao Long! Get up here!”

Blake had to try very hard not to cry. Adam has always told her that it all him. But this was physical proof that that was a lie. After they collected their awards and gave a small thank you to everyone, Adam came up to them with what was supposed to be a charming smile.

“Congratulations, Blake. You’ve improved. I’m very proud of you.” Adam said. Blake felt her stomach churn in disgust. “Perhaps we could catch up?” His eyes were looking at her like she was a prime steak. She hated it. So she decided to make a point.

“Abso-fucking-lately not.” And to send the point home, she grabbed Yang and pulled her down into a deep kiss. She heard Adam let out strangled noise before he was pushed out of the way by a swarm of photographers. Good. She thought as Yang sighed into her mouth. Let this be their front page news.

She would definitely keep the cut out.

#rwby #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang xiao long #fanfic

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a-crimson-lion · 5 years

Text

Parallels, Parallels, Parallels

[We got a double hitter, fellas. For the sake of courtesy, you may want to leave if you don't like Bakugo bashing. Just a fair warning.]

Part 1: Kacchan and Deku

Like it or not, Horikoshi made it his mission to make sure that his protagonist Izuku and Katsuki had heaps of parallels.

For the most part, it's really prominent.

Katsuki acts as a foil for Izuku. He was born with a powerful quirk, Izuku was quirkless. He's loudmouthed and abrasive, Izuku's softspoken and understanding. He has no inate will to help people by default, Izuku will leap to the defense of an innocent person before he can think. The list goes on.

The best way it's highlighted is during the U.A. Entrance Exam: Katsuki gets in on only Villain Points. Izuku gets in on only Rescue Points.

On another note, Izuku and Katsuki both represent various aspects of luck and work. All Might once said something along the lines of "There are those who gain power through luck, and those who work to earn power. Know the difference." This fits some of the more prominent characteristics of Izuku and Katsuki.

Katsuki's Explosion quirk is essentially a very big play of luck. That's not to say he doesn't work hard, but the work he does accomplish is more for maintaining his high position, and less about going further beyond. Izuku is different. Getting One for All was incredibly lucky, but the work Izuku had to put in to obtain and control the quirk was definitely not just luck. He cleaned and entire beach just to get the quirk, and as of now, he only recently learned to control 8% of OFA, as well as 20% in short bursts and 100% without reprocussions when a small child is connected to him and actively reversing the damage. And said small child's quirk is a freak mutation, so someone has to stop her quirk to make sure Izuku isn't erased from existance when he isn't actively on the bone hurting juice.

Which brings me to my next point: going beyond.

There are only three major instances where we see Katsuki seriously push his limits (no, Howitzer Impact doesn't count because:

It's a super move.

By itself, it doesn't really result in major reprocussions.)

The first time we ever see something close to Katsuki reaching his limit is during the infamous Katsuki vs Ochako fight at the Sports Festival. Katsuki manages to pull off a gigantic explosion seemingly out of his ass, defeating Ochako and her well thought out plan at the cost of his arms starting to experience strain. The second instance is during the final exams, where Katsuki is trying (and failing) to take down All Might, even blasting past his gauntlets' safety precautions and going so far as to try and bite All Might's hand when he's out of stamina. The third notable occasion is at I-Island, where he pushes past his already reached limits in order to help take down the powered up Wolfram.

With the potential exception of the third example, there's nothing all that special about him pushing past his limits.

His motivation is just that he wants to win, end of story. He wanted to beat Ochako? BOOM, big explosion. He wanted to beat All Might? BOOM, big explosions, but he still fails (remember that the only reason he passed is because Izuku is selfless and came back for his sorry behind). I-Island is more of the same, but in that instance he's working towards a team goal, AND he's rooting for All Might, so admittably the circumstances are different.

So how does Izuku going beyond differ from Katsuki?

Well, unlike most shonen anime, when Izuku goes beyond, there are actual consequences. Izuku tries to save Katsuki from the sludge villain? Izuku gets scolded for being reckless (even though the Pros were just standing there, using quirks as an excuse while Katsuki was going trigger happy trying to free himself, and yet he gets praise). Izuku saves Ochako from the Zero Pointer? He breaks his legs and an arm, though he thankfully avoids being turned into a bloody pulp. Izuku tries to save Shoto from himself? He ends up permanently disfiguring his hand after he decides to go all out against Shoto, and eventually gets the incentive to learn what would later become Full Cowl. He wants to save Kota from Muscular? He screws his arms up so bad that he can no longer use them at full power unless he wants them to stop working altogether. The thing about Izuku going beyond is, aside from gaining consequences, he also gains something from the experience.

He got All Might's attention during the Sludge Villain Incident. Ochako saved him after saving her from the Zero Pointer, allowing both of them to pass and eventually leading up to Ochako becoming a close friend of Izuku. Shoto accepted his fire side, and Izuku eventually learned Full Cowl in order to stop breaking his bones as frequently. Kota stops hating heroes, and Izuku eventually teaches himself Shoot Style.

What does Katsuki get from his experiences? "Be stronger."

Which is terrible advice for someone in his position; the proper advice would be to "Be smarter." He should have lost his fight with Ochako and realized that big explosions won't always fix his problems. He should have fought All Might and realized halfway that defeating him would have been impossible, and thus (even reluctantly) decide to cooperate with Izuku. The I-Island incident is the only exception I'll give him, simply because his reasons for going beyond were slightly more noble than normal. And before you bring up Katsuki's quirk's limitations, remember that we didn't see those again until he was fighting ALL MIGHT, WITH HIS GEAR ON. He would have been toast sooner if he didn't have his gauntlets.

But hey, that's my personal opinion. What do I know?

Part 2: King Explosion Murder and Endeavor

Stop me if you've heard this one before: If Izuku equals All Might, then Katsuki equals Endeavor.

Unfortunately, that comparison isn't too far off.

Both of them are egotistical manics looking to surpass All Might (and in Katsuki's case, also Izuku) with powerful quirks and prominent positions of power. They also both have a tendency to use people to meet their own ends. Katsuki didn't give a crap about his fellow teammates during the Cavalry Battle, going off on his own multiple times and not even bothering to recall their names. In the manga, Mina even stated that Katsuki only picked her to counter Shoto's ice when the Cavalry Battle is over, and its been stated that Eijiro only got aboard Katsuki's team because he brought up "taking down Midoriya." This sounds awfully similar to Endeavor (or Enji Todoroki) using his wife Rei in order to "create" a perfect heir (Shoto) in order to surpass All Might.

They're also both sore winners. Shoto lost to Katsuki in the final round of the Sports Festival, and Katsuki has to be chained up because he refuses to accept the victory. Meanwhile, later in the series, Endeavor rages when he's given the position of Number One Hero because he's seen All Might's true form, and suddenly everything he's worked for is for naught, at least in his eyes. Katsuki and Enjialso tendend to be assholes to certain people in particular. Katsuki was (and still is) an asshole to Izuku because he was quirkless and therefore useless (and maybe to some extent, Katsuki feared Izuku's innate heroic nature, so he tried knocking him down to avoid future competition, even if, by Katsuki's words, Izuku wouldn't be competition because he didn't even have a crappy quirk). Endeavor was an asshole to Shoto, sending him through brutal training that no four year old should be subjected to, isolating him from the rest of his family, and driving his mother to insanity, leading to his iconic burn mark on his left side.

What really gets me infuriated about the both of them is how Horikoshi tries to parallel them with actually decent human beings, usually through their redemption arcs.

Katsuki has been compared to Izuku by All Might himself, stating that the two of them are both sides to the same coin: the saving hero, and the winning hero. This comparison would be fair IF Izuku wasn't already learning to be a winning hero (and being a saving hero by default) while Katsuki has yet to show a desire to save beyond his desire to win.

Meanwhile, Endeavor gets parallels to Shoto. "Earlyroki," as Shoto was often referred to by his peers after he opened up, was an ironic reflection of his father, only relying on his ice power in a nearly condescending manner, and also adopting his father's lone wolf attitude. Then there's the whole deal with Endeavor getting a scar on his left side to match Shoto. There's no being subtle with the symbolism.

Although, and this is an unpopular opinion, I do like some aspects of Katsuki and Enji's redemption arcs. For Enji, we're shown that even if he's seemingly willing to change his ways, not every person has to accept his attempt at reconnection. A bad person can turn a new leaf and people are allowed to still not trust them. We don't see this in Katsuki's redemption arc, since everyone is somehow in unanimous agreement that Katsuki didn't do anything seriously wrong. Even though he did. And that's infuriating, specifically for me. What Katsuki's arc IS doing right, is that he actually has the potential to change. He may have abused Izuku for well over a decade, but he's still a kid; he still has time to change, and the changes are starting to form, however subtle they may be. I wish they were less flip floppy in progress and that people in the fandom and in the series weren't exaggerating it so much, but we can't have everything. At least he's better than episode one Katsuki by a notable margin. Meanwhile, Endeavor's been stuck in his ways since he married Rei. He can still change, but his habits will be harder to remove since he didn't learn early on enough that his actions weren't exactly moral.

Well, that's my two cents. If you read it, hope you enjoyed.

-Crimson Lion (13 August 2019)

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #enji todoroki #endeavor #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #anti endeavor #character analysis #meta #drabble

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craftyshipper · 5 years

Text

Bring Me Home, Chapter 11: Threat

Shouto had long since been left alone while Momo spoke with the police about the rules and requirements regarding him staying with her. One of which was that he is required to wear a pair quirk nullifying cuffs, but this pair was like a set of bracelets, one for each of his wrists and would suppress his work like a pair of the handcuffs would.

As much as he hated being confined, part of him urged him to cooperate for the sake of learning about his lost memories. To learn more about Momo and Kira, who at this point, Shouto is almost one hundred percent certain she is his. And if she is, Gou and Noboru were going to pay for kidnapping her.

Rei, or rather, his mother had taken Kira home since the little girl had fallen asleep in his arms. She left a little drool on his shirt but he didn't mind in the least, finding the action, dare he say, adorable?

As he stood from the bed to grab the bag of clothes that Natsu had provided for him, he couldn't help but feel a little lost. All of this felt like a dream; like he would suddenly wake up in a hospital room with Gou and Noboru hovering over him. Just as they always did whenever he had fainted from overusing his fire quirk.

Shaking his head, he quickly changed into a pair of black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He was surprised that they had fit him so well and figured it must have been Momo’s doing. If he remembered correctly, her quirk was creation, she must have made the clothes and probably figured out his size when he was unconscious.

The knock that sounded on the door gave him pause before it opened to reveal the woman he had just been thinking about.

"Are you ready?"

"Sure." His gaze shot to her hand, the pair of bracelets glaring at him from her grasp. With a deep inhale of breath, he held up his hands towards her and she quickly locked the items onto his wrists.

"It requires a special key to open, and Tsukauchi has the only copy."

Her tone was apologetic, she apparently isn't too happy with this arrangement either, if the argument she had with the officers outside was any sign.

"I tried fighting for you."

"I know, don't worry about it.” Shouto nodded as he grabbed the bag his clothes had been in.

“Well, one thing first,” Momo began, “We are sneaking out the back of the hospital, Tsukauchi has sent a car for us since we would rather not have the media crawling all over our backs.”

“Oh, that makes sense I suppose.” Shouto nodded in understanding, wondering why she looked so apprehensive.

“Is there more?” He tilted his head in curiosity.

“Well...” she trailed off before looking to the side, “you have several friends that want to see you and I’m afraid that you may get overwhelmed or possibly become annoyed with some of their invasive personalities.”

"Oh," was his only reply as he turned to look out the window, his next words leaving his mouth before be had a chance to rethink them, "are they sure they even want to see me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I attacked all of you, how can they still even consider me their friend?" His eyes flickered up, dual-colored irises meeting black. "How can you even be close to me like this, and invite me into your home?"

"Shouto, none of us are angry with you," she spoke so softly, he was sure she was near tears, "those men took advantage of a tragedy, and there isn't one of us that doesn't want them to pay for what they did to you."

Silence engulfed them after that as Momo ushered him out of the room. They walked down the hallway until they came to the stairs that would lead to the emergency exit where Tsukauchi had a car waiting for them.

"Shouto?" She called out to him when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Hm?" Was his response.

"Are you okay?"

"If I'm being honest," he turned his gaze to her, "no, I'm not."

She frowned, not because of him in any way, but of the fact that there really wasn't much she could do to help him and that frustrated her to no end. Without saying another word, their journey came to an end when they managed to make it to the car without any issues. Shouto and herself took the backseat of the car and they were on their way.

Momo only hoped things would get better. Because if they didn’t...

She really didn’t know what she could do.

__________

When they arrived at Momo’s home, she quickly created a hoodie for him. He took the material and slipped it on without a word, quickly flipping up the hood to cover his head and more importantly his very noticeable hair color.

“Remember, this isn’t a permanent arrangement,” one of the officers stated as he turned around in the driver's seat, “if for any reason we feel you are a danger to anyone, we will come back to pick you up, is that understood?”

“Yes,” Shouto murmured before he and Momo exited the car and attempted to walk casually to her door.

Momo's nerves were screaming at her. Some from the nervousness she felt now that Shouto is stepping into her home and some for the unforeseen future ahead of them. Not to mention it's been a stressful few days since this shitstorm started.

When she finally opened the door, they were greeted by Rei, who was busy in the kitchen, making cold soba, a meal she hoped her son remembered that he loves.

“Hello dears,” she smiled and began setting the table, “Momo, Kira is in the playpen, she woke up about twenty minutes ago.”

"Oh, thank you, Rei!" Momo answered with a smile. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"Of course not," Rei raised her hand to her mouth as she giggled, "then again she slept most of the time she was with me."

The raven-haired beauty laughed as Shouto stood awkwardly to the side, shifting from foot to foot from their easy familiarity with the other.

"How are you feeling Shouto?" Rei turned her attention to him ad Momo went to grab Kira.

"Out of place," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't belong here."

Now he didn't know why he said that so easily to this woman, maybe some part of him recognized her as his mother and was seeking out comfort or advice, or maybe his nerves were finally getting the best of him and he couldn't help what he blurted out anymore.

"Of course you belong here," she said with a frown, "you're my son and Momo's first love, we want to help you remember who you are, not what those terrible men made you believe."

Despite himself, he felt tears prick at his eyes. Not just from her kindness but from Momo's as well and the willingness to help him regardless of what he had done.

"I-I..." he released a shaky breath and leaned against the wall, resisting the urge to slid down to the floor and curling into himself.

"Shouto, we aren't forcing you to accept this life, we just want you to know the Shouto that we did," Rei smiled sadly, "if you never end up getting your memories back, you are free to go wherever you please, but just know that you will always have a family here."

Not saying a word Shouto nodded, his eyes stinging from her words. When Rei spotted a tear escape his eye, she didn't hesitate to throw her arms around him. Squeezing him tightly to her, as if she were afraid he'd vanish. A shaky exhale and she cried too, cried for the loss of her son, cried for the feeling of holding him like this.

"Don't think for a moment that we want you to leave, you belong here with us, you always have and you always will."

_________

“Alright, I’m going to head out now,” Rei slipped on a coat and grabbed her purse from the rack by the door, “I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, are you staying at the estate tonight?” Momo asked, referring to the Todoroki home.

“Yes, I need to go talk to Enji,” Rei sighed sadly, “Inasa and Hawks called me earlier today, he’s not handling any of this very well.”

“Is he angry?”

“I’m not a hundred percent certain,” Rei shook her head, “But I’m going to find out.”

Momo nodded as Rei reached out to hug her before the white-haired woman walked over to where Shouto was sitting, hugging him as well. She leaned close to his ear and whispered to him. “Don’t forget what I said, okay?”

Shouto squeezed her back, a confirmation that he had heard her. “Thank you.” The muttered words didn’t go unheard by her.

Finally, Rei turned to her granddaughter, who was happily on the floor playing with a set of building blocks, she was currently stacking them and knocking them down, giggling as she did so.

“And you, little miss, I’ll see you later as well.” The older woman knelt down to pick up the toddler and gave her a tight hug.

“Byyyy, gamma,” Kira giggled when Rei kissed her cheek.

After that she was gone, leaving Momo, Shouto and Kira alone in the apartment. The fire and ice user suddenly felt a bit awkward being left alone with them, not sure how he is supposed to act.

Thankfully Momo stepped up to speak first. The kind smile she gave him made his heart flutter and he could feel a familiar heat bloom across his cheeks.

What's wrong with me?

He quickly glanced away from her to stare at Kira who was walking along the couch heading towards him.

"I have some photo albums, and a few videos from the last few sports festivals we participated in."

"Sports festival?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"It was a competition that our hero school, UA, did every year."

"Oh." Was his only reply.

"Or we could watch a movie, I know you need a break after everything that's happened."

"It doesn't matter," he tried to smile reassuringly for her, but she saw passed his facade.

"Shouto-"

Before she could get another word out, a knock sounded on her apartment door. Not even a slight knock, but a full-on pounding. Confused, since she wasn't expecting any guests until tomorrow, she started for the door.

Shouto, on the other hand, had a bad feeling overcome him. He shot up from his seat and made a run for her.

"Momo wait!"

When she unlocked it, a force shoved her back, slamming her into the wall causing her to hit her head and slid to the floor unconscious.

"You're a hard one to get to Shouto Todoroki," the male, shaved head and red eyes, stated as he walked into the apartment as if he owned the place, his attire a pair of black pants and a black sleeveless shirt, "Noboru and Gou had very specific instructions to kill you."

"So, you're here," Shouto shifted to block Kira from his view, the young girl not realizing what happened to her mother as she continued playing on the floor after he sprung up from the couch, "now what?"

"You and I are going for a walk and if you refuse," he quirked a brow and gestured with his chin towards the toddler, "that cute little girl will be my next target."

Clenching his teeth, he cursed silently to himself, the bracelets a heavy weight on his wrists, he wouldn't be able to defend himself with his quirk. He stared at Momo, willing her to wake up, for her to be okay. The painful groan that escaped her didn't do much to ease his worry.

"Alright, fine, I'll go with you," he raised his hands, "but no harm comes to the girl or her mother."

"Fine."

The bald man walked behind Shouto and forced one of his arms behind his back before he pushed him towards the door. Kira finally looked up and cried in terror at the unknown man in their home, his red eyes glared at the child as they left.

Damn it!

__________

Momo woke to the sound of crying, her daughter screaming by her, needing the comfort of her mother. With a pained grimace, her eyes opened to stare into a pair of heterochromia eyes, and they didn’t belong to Shouto.

“Oh, Kira!” She sat up suddenly, gathering the child in her arms, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame her. Her mother instincts telling her to assure herself that her baby is safe.

Glancing around her home, she didn’t see Shouto anywhere. One look to her open front door and her eyes widened as she recalled him shouting her name in warning. A warning that came just a bit too late.

“Shouto!” Momo stood and sprinted outside, she looked in every direction but didn’t see anyone. Not a soul was outside and she was curious if anyone in the apartment complex saw anything.

Angry tears stung at her eyes. Someone had come into her home, attacked her and took Shouto right out from under her nose. How could she have let this happen? She felt like such a fool. The only thing she is thankful for was that Kira is unharmed and she probably had Shouto to thank for that.

“Why do bad things keep happening to us?” She murmured against Kira’s head as she kissed the girl desperately trying to soothe her cries.

Momo went back inside to grab her phone, dialing Midoriya’s number. The One For All user answered on the second ring and before he could exchange any pleasantries with his friend, Momo cut him off.

“Shouto’s gone.”

After that, it didn’t take long for Midoriya to gather various members of their agency. Finding Shouto being their highest priority due to the fact that he had no access to his quirk.

They weren’t about to let their friend die again.

__________

Another chapter down! :D hope you enjoy :) Next chapter, Hitman will be properly introduced.

#todomomo #shouto x momo #todoroki and yaoyorozu #craftyshipper fanfiction #shouto and momo

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crowkingwrites · 5 years

Text

Battle of the Bands (Ch.13)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2077 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // Chapter Eleven // Chapter Twelve

Ramsay Bolton and Viserys Targaryen grew up in similar circumstances. Both of them had been the undesired sons in the family. While Domeric Bolton graduated with top honors and went on to become an advocate for incarcerated fathers, Ramsay lit up his first blunt in his dad’s basement. While Rhaegar became wildly popular and successful in the arts world, Viserys struggled to write his first song because it wouldn’t be good enough.

Both had wealth and power, and they used it to their own advantages. Viserys used every girlfriend he had growing up for his own selfish purposes. What did it matter? He was Viserys Fucking Targaryen. Girls threw themselves to be with him for status. He even remembered a time where Cersei was extremely nice to him to get close to his older brother.

Ramsay did it the obvious way. He bullied and punched anyone who had words for him. His bloody bastard group had known the inside of the principal’s office all too well. Once, Ramsay saw the paint color swatches and told the principal his opinion.

“If you paint these walls green, it’s going to remind everyone of the lunchroom. It’s gross.”

Both had a certain fear of their fathers. Both knew how bad they were and liked themselves that way. Why would they change if everything was working out for them so far? That is, until Ramsay walked into his father’s private office to see Viz and his entire band behind them. One girl was about to ruin everything for one of them.

“Ramsay! He knows who this bitch is! Tell him!” Viz yelled out loud. Roose turned to his son. Ramsay wore a perfectly fitting suit. It covered all his tattoos. Ramsay was clean-shaven. For once, he looked like the perfect child.

“Mr. Targaryen claims you know who the author of the slandering article is,” Roose’s eyes flickered back to Viz before returning to Ramsay’s. “Do you know her?”

Ramsay shrugged. “I can’t say I do. I have done an interview with her once when my band was still in the battle, but she didn’t write anything terrible about my band. After that, I can’t say we have spoken again.”

“You’re fucking lying,” Viz seethed.

“I do apologize, Mr. Targaryen. This must be a difficult time for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You fucked her! You literally had sex with her!”

Ramsay took a step back and faced his father. “Father, I don’t mean to sound unprofessional, but I think Viserys may be on drugs, You know these rockstars. They don’t lead a sober lifestyle. It says so in the article. We may not want to be associated with people like them.” Roose nodded and took a step towards the band manager.

Ramsay smirked.

Robb stood still inside Jon’s apartment.

You rushed past him and he felt his stomach turning. He could smell your perfume on you. The floral scent rushed into his nose before he could protest. He didn’t mind smelling you. He minded smelling you here in his little brother’s apartment. A slow anger took over his mind while Jon walked up to him, explaining things at a rapid pace.

“It’s not what it looks like. I promise you. I can explain everything, Robb. I really can. I need you to listen and—

“And what, Jon?” Robb’s eyes flickered to his brother. “Are you going to give me a shitty excuse? ‘She had something on her face’, right?”

“Alright! I’m sorry. We-I—I didn’t mean—

“You didn’t mean to? I saw it. You weren’t kissing her on accident,” Robb snapped.

“I wasn’t going to say that! I was just going to say—

“Oh, now you’re going to tell me you’ve had feelings for her all this time?”

“Shut the fuck up, Robb.” Jon rolled his eyes. “Let me explain it before you piss me off.”

“Piss you off? You’re concerned about me pissing you off?!”

“You knew I liked her. You knew all this time, Robb. You introduced her to me knowing how pretty she was. Knowing I wanted a girl like that for a long time.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Really?” Jon scoffed. “Do you just live and breathe in the same selfish world you built for yourself? Do you think every girl you talk to is going to date you? You’re so fucking blind.”

Robb stepped into Jon’s space more. “You knew I liked her too. I told you that. Remember? After I saw her with Ramsay? At the Blackfyre concert? You’re not the only on she’s been with. It’s a problem.”

“And you thought a great solution to the problem was to fire her from her dream job.”

“I gave her that job and this is how she treats me,” Robb spat. Jon pushed his brother away from him.

“Get the fuck out of here with that,” Jon said. “You can’t stand not being the center of attention in a pretty girl’s eyes. She doesn’t belong to you. She never has.”

“Oh, and she belongs to you?” Robb smirked. “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Robb.” “No. Really. Are you? Because if you were, wouldn’t you think it’s so fucking weird that she spends a lot of time with other guys?”

“I think it’s fucking weird that you’re obsessed with her,” Jon muttered. Robb pushed Jon harder. When Jon pushed back, Robb grabbed his brother by his arms. He hesitated throwing him into his couch. His fingers itched to do it, but his eyes locked with his brother. Those same big, brown eyes looked up at him.

He threw down Jon’s arms, and opened his mouth. “You know, you’re not really my brother. You’re just flesh proof of why Dad couldn’t keep it in his pants. You’re not human. You’re a mistake.”

Two brothers envied one another.

Viserys Targaryen envied Ramsay in a lot of ways. He hated how Ramsay had a better hold on you than he did. Viserys was used to female attention. At first, he laughed it off, thinking it was a sick joke you kept doing. No, you were more attracted to him than Ramsay. You just felt bad for the guy.

Until the concert. Viserys watched you and Ramsay getting cozier without him around. He watched you kiss Ramsay like you were drowning in him. He never had that fucking chance with you. Why? It angered him. Even in bed, you chose that fucking psycho every time and he let it happen.

Viserys had everything handed and given to him without question. No one ever told him no. Until you came along. You treated him like he was a real being, not some king to bow down to. You made him feel normal. Like he was his own person without his name or title or wealth or anything. But, you chose Ramsay over him every time. And Viz let that happen.

Viz watched Ramsay smirk and leave his father’s office. Viserys knew of Ramsay growing up. He watched that boy enter and leave a principal’s office several times without facing any real consequences. Just like now. He was lying about being with you.

You. The Girl who finally conquered The Dragon.

No, he wasn’t going to let him get away with this bullshit. Viz pushed past a bodyguard and ran in pursuit of Ramsay. Momentum built up inside of him in every step he took towards that fucking bastard. Ramsay quickly turned down a hallway and when Viz reached that same point, Ramsay grabbed him and pushed him against the wall.

“Why did you follow me?” Ramsay simply asked.

“Why did you lie?” Viserys spat in his face. “What the fuck are you doing? She screwed you over too.”

“She had nothing to do with my band getting kicked out. Someone else did. So, she didn’t screw me. Well, she technically did. She did get in between us that one night. She was all over me while you just sat like a puppy and watched. Right? I don’t know what’s sadder. Watching the world’s greatest rockstar get rejected or watching your worst enemy take the only girl you cared about.”

Viserys’ fist connected to Ramsay’s nose within seconds. The punch sent Ramsay backwards and onto the floor, laughing. Viserys lunged again, but this time, his manager caught him. Viserys struggled against his manager as Ramsay mocked him.

“Oh! Look at you! Poor baby needs to be disciplined,” Ramsay laughed.

“I’m coming for you, Bolton,” Viserys warned.

“Oh I know.”

“You know?” Viserys cocked his eyebrow and smiled. “Your arrogant ass is going to kill you one day.”

“How did you know to come here? You don’t really need to interact with lawyers. Your manager does. So how did now to come to my dad? Unless you’ve been here before?” Ramsay watched Viserys’ eyes go wide. Ramsay stood up slowly and closed the space between them. A tension settled between the two young men.

“I knew it wasn’t Renly like you told me. You came here and had my father shut down my band because you know I’m better than you.”

Viserys’ face stayed in shock as his band manager pulled him out of there. Ramsay watched happily as the entire Blackfyre team was escorted out of the law firm. He ducked into his father’s office once more. If he could take down Viserys, he could take down the Starks too.

Ramsay Bolton wasn’t kidding when he told you he liked competition.

Competition was the only thing Jon knew with Robb. Jon always competed against him in everything. Grades. Father’s love. Girls. Sports. Music. Everything. When Jon met you, he felt a spark that he never knew before. For once, you didn’t compare him to Robb. You spent more of your free time with him than with Robb.

Maybe Jon was being delusional. Maybe it was the weed. When Jon’s fist connected with Robb’s cheek, the only thing he could think of was you. Robb thought everyone loved him. It was time that Jon proved him wrong.

Robb held his face for a minute and then left without another word. Jon let out a heavy breath after his door closed. He ran his fingers through his hair and watched Robb walk away from his apartment building. Jon collapsed on his couch and took out his phone.

Jon to You: [I just punched my brother for you. So wherever that puts us…

Jon pressed the back button until all of his message was gone. He sat up and tried again.

Jon to You: [This is all getting out of hand. Maybe we should…

“No, no, no. You stupid idiot.” Jon said to himself. “This is bad. This is really bad. Fuck.” Jon turned over his phone in his hands repeatedly. Jon’s phone played a tone and he saw a message from you.

You: [That article about Viserys. He saw it and he’s gonna try to take me and The Scene to court. What do I do?] You: [Ramsay told me. How do we tell your brother? This is bad. I’m panicking] You: [Never mind. He’s here at the office. He knows. I think he’s going to fire me.]

Jon groaned out loud. He looked over at a Gryffindor poster he had on his wall. The same lion looked back at him.

“Why couldn’t I be a coward? Wouldn’t life be easier if I was a coward? Damn you, Potter.” Jon got up, grabbed his keys, and left his apartment. There was only one person who could possibly understand what he was going through.

Jon arrived at a studio apartment in an artistic corner of the city. He knocked on the door lightly before he opened it. Two pizza boxes were stacked on the stove. Along the wall stood a mismatched shelving system of records. On the far wall, Jon could spot a skinny little nobody on his couch, strumming away at a guitar.

“Theon,” Jon sighed in relief.

“Oh, now you come back?” Theon shook his head. “I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back for Alys or not.” Theon gestured to the guitar in his lap.

“I’m—I’m in some deep shit, Theon,” Jon collapsed into a beanbag.

“Yeah? You need our friend, Jack?” Theon passed the whisky bottle to him. Jon shook his head and looked up to the ceiling.

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s about a girl isn’t it?” Theon asked. When Jon nodded, Theon reacted. “Oh shit.”

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