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mellowyandere · 3 years

Text

This isn't something a healing quirk can fix

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

Summary: While out saving the day All Might is hit with a quirk that only you can cure. Upon finding him vulnerable, you really shouldn’t have pushed your luck.

Length: 4K oops

Warnings: non-con, aphrodisiac, yandere themes, size kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering.

You were in the kitchen making a snack when you heard the familiar clicking of locks on the front door. You tensed a bit at the sound, knowing it meant the arrival of your captor. All Might, or Toshinori as he insisted you called him, had abducted you about 3 months back. It had occurred after he had saved you from a horrific villain attack. You had no clue why he had chosen you out of the group of star struck civilians, but now you wish you had just walked away after your near death experience. How you wish you could take back the unused handkerchief you offered the pillar of peace that you had carried around due to your cold at the time. You just wanted to help in what little way you could, but somehow it was the catalyst for your new life.

Despite you being locked up in his home, Toshinori had yet to do anything you thought a kidnapper would do. He kept his hands to himself for the most part, and was somehow content with your silent and gloomy company. At first you had been confused but ecstatic to wake up to the hero, but the facade quickly wore off with a puff of smoke and a pathetic explanation for why you couldn’t leave. Anger had morphed into sorrow, and was now almost an empty feeling. He never pushed you for anything, except to ensure you stayed healthy. Despite his large frame the man was a shadow in his own home as he attempted to give you space to adjust.

But it had been 3 months and you were starting to go crazy from the lack of genuine contact. Alas your pride prevented you from reaching out to him for it.

The sound of the front door opening and heavy boots making their way inside pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You paused, waiting for him to call out in greeting like he normally did, but nothing came. The door closed, locks clicked, and then some shuffling was heard before the creaking of the stairs indicated he was headed to his room.

It was odd. Very uncharacteristic of him. Even on his worst days he never failed to find you, ensuring you were still here and giving you a quick hug. You set down your snack materials and quietly walked out the kitchen towards the stairs near the front door.

Was he alright? Did you do something to upset him? Wait, why did you care? Pushing down your internal dilemma you found yourself at the bottom of the staircase. Looking up you could see he had a small amount of light bleeding out of his bedroom. And then you heard it, the rattling of metal. What the hell was he doing? You took slow anxious steps up the stairs, needing to know why he was acting so strange.

You stilled as you reached the landing. His bedroom was quiet now except for the occasional pained exhale of breath. If he didn’t want you to come in then he would have closed the door right? Your ears were ringing as you strained to hear anything else, but that was all.

Hesitantly you reached out, hand making contact with the cool wooden door as you gently pushed it open.

“Toshinori? Are you alrig-” The words died on your lips as the bed came into view. Toshinori was strapped down, odd blue restraints keeping him tethered to the bed. He was almost completely naked save for his boxer shorts, which looked to be on the brink of ripping due to his strained erection. His body was flushed red, with a thin layer of sweat coating him. His arms were bound to the headboard, and his feet to the end of the bed

“Y/N ple-please you have to leave.” The words coming out of his mouth did not match the desperation in his dark eyes. Your brain was stuttering as you attempted to figure out what was going on. Your feet shuffled you further into the room, taking advantage of your shock and overriding your more rational thoughts.

Peering over at his nightstand you noticed a counter ticking down. It currently had a little under 36 minutes on it. Toshinori jolted against his restraints causing you to jump a bit in surprise as you took note of him again.

“Please just leave for now, this will be over soon. I-I was hit by an unknown quirk, but the villain said that I wouldn’t feel like this after an hour. I just have to wait it out so ple-please..” You couldn’t tell if he wanted to ask you to stay or leave. His face was scrunched in pain as he began to cough a bit.

You weren’t exactly sure what the villains quirk had done to him, but judging by his strained boxers it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The number one hero was completely vulnerable before you. When was the last time you had touched another person? Toshinori’s quick hugs hardly counted as human contact.

“How do you plan on getting out of this?” You approached the side of the bed as you questioned him, hand running against the soft fabric of his sheets. His eyes followed your every move, body beginning to strain against the blue ropes of light.

“When the timer is up these will automatically turn off..” Which means you had 33 minutes to do anything you wanted.

Slowly you began to crawl up on the bed. It was ridiculously large, but so was the man currently tied to it. You had no ill intentions for him. He might be your kidnapper, but he was also the number one hero. You couldn’t take him away from society, they needed him.

You were in complete control of this situation, to an extent, which was something you hadn’t felt for a long time. You made your way over to him, not missing his little groans of frustration as his wiry muscles flexed in anticipation. With his shirt off his prominent scar was on full display. Normally he did his best to hide it from you, but now he had no where to run.

You reached out and placed your hand on his abdomen, the edges of the large wound just under your fingertips. His flesh was hot. Toshinori let out a low whine at the contact, hips rutting upwards at the feeling of your cool fingers. His large frame trembled as you began to feather your fingers over his exposed flesh.

“Pri-princess please” Your hand stopped as you looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. The look he was giving you was absolutely searing. He had never called you that before. You were pushing your luck, but would he really punish you for anything once he was free?

You can recall the times where you used to spit venom, hands shaking with rage and the desire to hurt him as he calmly sat by, never so much as raising his voice at you. No, he wouldn’t punish you. You’d be fine to push it, to scratch the need for contact.

With your mind set you crawled closer to him, heart beating hard against your ribcage as you pushed down the voices telling you to stop. Throwing your leg over his lean torso you found yourself straddling him. You hovered over his immobile body, trailing your eyes up his sun kissed skin until finally reaching his blazing blue orbs.

You shrunk a bit at the intensity of his gaze. His jaw was clenched shut, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other. You needed to leave. And yet you couldn't find it within you to go. Breaking away from his heated stare you realized the timer was at 24 minutes. You didn’t want to be here when his restraints turned off so you best do what you wanted now.

You sat up, gently lowering yourself on his lower abdomen. You didn’t dare turn around, not keen on seeing his arousal. All you wanted was to feel the warmth of his body against you for just a little bit, not relieve whatever feeling he was going through. It was your way of punishing him for uprooting your life.

Your hands rested against his expansive pectoral muscles. Even in his smaller form he was so much larger than you. Despite the limited time you had you felt powerful like this. Toshinori's soft groans made heat rush to your face. Even injured he was still a very attractive, and currently helpless, man.

Your hands slid further upward, ghosting around his long neck, until you were softly cupping his hollow cheeks. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he moaned out. Toshinori was at a loss for words. Though his mind was foggy with lust he fought to cherish every touch you gave him.

As the timer continued to tick down you decided on one last thing before slinking off to your room. Leaning down you angled your head for his neck, soft lips meeting hot flesh. The blond bucked beneath you, deep groans of frustration rumbling through him.

You sucked on his neck gently, nipping at the flesh. His skin was a bit salty from sweat but you didn't mind. Pulling away with a satisfied hum you looked down at the small mark you had left on him. You were in control. His eyes were wide open, pupils fully dilated as he wriggled in his confinement. Peering over the timer read just under 11 minutes. It was time to go.

You made quick work of crawling off of him, ignoring his soft whines of protest.

“Goodnight Toshinori.” You didn’t want him to think this would extend any longer than it already had. Making your way off of the bed you scurried out the room, not paying him any mind as he called your name.

Fleeing to your room you closed the door behind you. Your stomach growled in annoyance due to your abandoned snack, but after what you had just done it would be wise to lay low. Grabbing one of the many books Toshinori had given you, you crawled onto your own ridiculously large bed and settled down. You tried to nurse the anxiety you felt clawing at your chest. Surely Toshinori wouldn't punish you right?

You stared at the page in front of you, incapable of reading a single word. As you continued to second guess your actions you yelped at the sound of a large crash. Clutching the book to your chest you held your breath in anticipation. The door to your room slammed open without warning.

Chucking the book in terror you tried to jump off the bed to put some distance between you and the crazed hero but you never stood a chance. His large frame was on you before you could even get your feet under you and you were immediately pressed into the plush mattress face down.

“I’m sorry, Toshinori I’m so sorry please!” Your cries fell on deaf ears. Toshinori couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, which as of right now he didn’t. The burning in his veins was one hundred times worse once the timer ended. The villain was right, he didn’t feel the same as he did a little while ago. He felt feral, touch starved, and desperate to devour you.

Hooking an arm under your waist he hoisted you up so he could rut his large erection against your ass. Whimpers and groans tumbled past his thin lips.

“So-so perfect princess. So be-beautiful. Gonna take good care of you. Your hero is here.”

“Toshinori please! You’ll hurt me, you’re not in the right mind!” You needed to get through to him, judging by his hard length pressed against you there was no way he would be able to fit. The behemoth of a man above you stopped moving, though he didn’t release you from his grasp.

“Princess I’m so sorry, but I can’t stop.” In the blink of an eye he flipped you over so you were looking up at him. His long bangs hung down and you were surprised to feel wetness fall onto your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were swimming with tears.

“It hurts so badly, I’m so sorry.” His face was scrunched in pain as he stared down at you. The number one hero All Might couldn't handle the pain of this quirk? There was no way, he had to be using this as an excuse.

Which is exactly what he was doing, tears of pain and guilt raining down as he gave in to his pent up sexual frustration. He moved fast, picking up your body while sitting up and pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against the headboard. One of his lanky arms kept you firmly rooted against his chest despite your struggles. You were just so weak compared to him. Your ass was pressed right up against his monstrous hard on which filled you with dread. He was going to split you in half.

His free hand took up residence on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. His hot pants fanned out against your neck causing you to shiver. His large hand began to trail upwards before gently cupping your sex through your shorts. If it was even possible he pulled you even tighter against his chest, mouth coming down to nip and suck at your exposed neck. Revenge for the mark you left on him earlier.

“Fe-fear not my little princess, I am, shit, I am here.” He was babbling as he began to rub his fingers against your clothed core. Little groans and sniffles accompanying his rambling.

“N-no Toshinori, All Might, please.” But there was no getting through to him. He shredded your shorts with the flick of his wrist, exposing your underwear. He hummed lowly in contemplation at your lack of wetness, his fleeting rational thoughts knew you needed to be stretched and wet for him.

Your underwear soon fell to the same fate as your shorts, exposing your cunt to the cold air. His fingers returned, softly playing with your outer folds. You groaned at the contact. It had been so long since someone touched you there, or anywhere in general, that your body was more than happy to respond to the lean blond behind you.

Before long you both were more than aware of the wetness seeping out of your core. He had yet to dip a finger inside, instead opting to tease your entrance as more and more of your arousal slipped out. Your fear had now blossomed into intense sexual frustration. He was getting back at you for earlier.

You rutted your hips into his hand, ass grinding back against his cock as you whimpered out in frustration. His breathy laugh against your neck only serving to further annoy you. “You were a bad little girl running away earlier, I’ll have to teach you a lesson. I le-let you get away with too much.”

As he chided you his index finger slid down until it was over your hole, his thumb sliding up to nudge against your clit. His tears had long since dried as he allowed himself to fully indulge in his new found sexual courage.

Gently his long and thick digit began to breach you, your velvety walls clamping down eagerly after being teased for so long.

“Shit so tight princess,” he hissed into your ear, causing you to clamp down again as he slowly pumped his finger in. It took everything in him to not forgo preparing you and slam his aching cock into you, but he would never forgive himself for hurting you.

His thumb tweaked your clit as he continued to delve deeper until finally his knuckles were pressed up against your slick outer lips. The coil in your lower abdomen was tight as you desperately tried to keep it together. You didn’t want to cum because of him, your pride still shining through. That was until he pulled his finger out and added another.

It was too much and you whimpered and moaned as your hips bucked forwards, walls clamping down on his fingers that weren't even halfway in yet. His thumb kept up the assault on your clit as he groaned at the feeling of you cumming on his hand.

His length flexed eagerly against your back, but he knew you weren’t ready yet. Taking advantage of the wetness due to the after math of your orgasm he began to work a third finger in. At this you couldn’t help but cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Your cunt burned a bit at the stretch as you tried to escape his deft fingers.

“Sh-shh it’s okay princess, I’m here, don’t worry. You’re doing so, fuck, so good. Just a little bit m-more.” He peppered the side of your face with kisses as he continued to work you open. The pain began to melt away as he gently finger fucked you until yet again he was knuckle deep.

He didn’t move, holding his hand still inside you as he took labored breaths. This was the extent of his self control, you were as prepared as you were going to get. You cried out as he moved, yet again, faster than you could keep up with. His hand was gone and before you knew it he had you splayed out beneath him with your shirt no longer on.

Somehow he had managed to remove his boxers when he had shifted positions, his long erection bobbing proudly above you. His tip was drenched in pre cum, a testament to his will power. Thick veins lined his monstrous length. Curly blond pubic hair trailed up at the base before tapering off below his belly button. He licked your wetness off his fingers, humming in satisfaction before stabilizing himself above you.

There was no fucking way that was going in. But judging by the love sick and pained expression on his face, you didn’t have a choice. Toshinori felt like he was on fire, his insides were burning with pain and lust beyond anything he had ever experienced. Your skin was the only remedy from this madness, the velvety walls of your perfect cunt the cure.

Without wasting anymore time he lined his tip up and began to push in. Your hands came up and slammed against his chest, legs thrashing as you tried to stop him.

One large hand easily captured both of yours and pinned them above your head. He used his own body weight to pin your legs down, making sure to keep them spread as he kept his eyes transfixed on where you two were connected.

“Too much, you won’t fit please stop.”

He ignored you, too lost in his own lust as the aphrodisiac clouded his mind. His hips began to dip and retract with the slightest of movements as he opened you beyond what his fingers had been able to do. You gritted your teeth in frustration and pain, tears slipping out. He looked up and scrunched his face in worry at your expression. Leaning down he kissed your tears off your face while whispering his love and devotion to you.

He hated seeing you like this, hated doing this to you. But he couldn’t stop himself. Inch by inch he pumped into you, your tight walls every so slowly accommodating him. Licking his thumb, he brought it between your two bodies and gently began to stimulate your clit.

Despite how desperate he was to slam into you with reckless abandon he took his time working you open, he wasn’t the number one hero for nothing after all. Your groans of pain were beginning to be replace with whimpers and soft moans of pleasure, spurring him on until finally he was fully sheathed inside your tight pussy.

Never before had you felt this full. Looking up you were a bit taken aback to see a large and genuine smile plastered on Toshinori’s face. His perfect teeth gleamed in the dim light as his eyes shone with a sickening amount of love and adoration.

“So tight princess, let's see how well you take me. N-no crocodile tears to try and slow me down, after all I did say I was going to teach you a lesson.” It was a flimsy excuse to help him rationalize what he was doing, but for now it would do.

With that Toshinori began to increase his tempo, pulling halfway out before pressing all the way back in. His tip hit your cervix with every return, causing you to cry as discomfort and pleasure were rocked into you.

As he increased his tempo he leaned down, mouth claiming your own as he held you down beneath him. He was overwhelming you with his thumb working your clit while his tongue and cock plunged into you. Your walls fluttered around him as you felt another orgasm approaching.

His teeth gnashed against your own, moans mixing with yours as he felt the change in your body. You arched your back, hips rocking up to meet his own. Pride be damned, you needed this. You needed him. Releasing your hands Toshinori’s large hand gripped your hip, pushing you down as he angled his slim hips in search of what would push you over the edge.

Your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his hair, tugging on his soft blond locks and eliciting a deep groan from the man. He knew you were close, there was no other way you would be so willing beneath him. A couple more pin point thrusts was all it took. Toshinori pulled away from you, fully sheathing himself inside your tight cunt as it clamped down on him.

You were beautiful. Eyes closed shut as moans tumbled passed your kiss swollen lips. He loved the way your body rocked against his, it was a sight he made sure to cherish. Who knew when he'd be able to do this again, to see you so emotive and vulnerable below him.

As you came down from your high you mind began to clear a bit. Your hands fell from his hair in exhaustion. Toshinori's thick cock was still buried inside you, twitching as if he was doing everything he could to hold out. But soon he began to move again, the aphrodisiac still controlling him.

He slammed into your spent body with renewed vigor, his only goal now to chase his own release. Your hands flew up, grasping his forearms as you braced yourself against him. His breathy groans of satisfaction and words of loving affirmation tumbled from his mouth as he watched himself fuck you.

It wasn’t much longer until he stilled again, this time for his own release. You could feel it. Thick ropes of cum released right against your battered cervix. He stayed that way for a while, relishing in not only post orgasmic bliss, but the disappearance of the burning from the aphrodisiac.

“Thank you princess, it seems today you got to save me.” Leaning down he peppered your face with kisses as he spoke.

You didn’t bother responding. You didn’t have it in you to do anything but wait for him to pull out. Eventually he did, and you couldn’t help but cringe a bit as he cum seeped out your abused hole. Toshinori flopped down to your left, slinging his arm over your waist and drawing you close, tucking your head under his chin.

Your stomach growled out in frustration, cutting through the silence, which pulled a hearty laugh from the hero. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Despite everything you had been through, the feeling of being lovingly touched had sparked something inside you. You knew it was wrong to feel this way, but right now it was easier to give in to this feeling of warmth than to fight it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and something to eat hmm princess?”

“Ye-yeah.. that sounds nice Toshi”

#yandere toshinori yagi #yandere all might #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #tw: noncon #aphrodisiac

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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Holy shit, I’ve read so much of your work without knowing who you are— on both Tumblr and AO3. Well, I’m very glad I followed a link to your profile because now I can tell you I love your work!! And I’ll finally be able to thank you for it!

You are far too sweet. Usually I tend to stick to a corner of fandom and not venture far so I’m glad you have followed a link to my profile :D There’s some really exciting Big Bang and Reverse Big Bang pieces coming on AO3 soon and I like putting short ficlets on here. And this one is especially for you!

Winters at Kaer Morhen were tough. Lambert was always to one to loudly grumble about how terrible it was. Not just the memories that haunted the long hallways and empty rooms, there were other things that made winters awful. Four witchers were locked together high up in the mountains when they were used to roaming, being solitary and dictating their own schedule. The sudden change was a culture shock and often resulted in growling disagreements for weeks on end. Usually, they re-learned how to coexist and have company again just in time to leave for the year, only to rinse and repeat the pattern. It didn’t get easier as the years went on.

If that had been the only problem, maybe winters wouldn’t have been so bad. Alas, there was more at play. Bitterly cold nights and only marginally less cool days packed with physical labour took their toll. But they needed to work, to chop wood, hunt and collect herbs. An idle witcher was a bored witcher and those were dangerous. Plus, if they were busy then there was no time to argue outside of training which they had to do to keep in shape. The worst though was the pain. Old injuries and aches were made worse by the cold. But there was nowhere else safe to winter. If people saw them at their weakest, when the cold bit through scars and sank its teeth cruelly into long since healed injuries, they wouldn’t trust a witcher ever again. Part of a witcher’s ability to get paid was in the myth that they were untiring, immune to such human things like aches and pains. So it was safer to hide away for the worst of winter, to suffer with those who knew what it was like.

In the hidden corners of Kaer Morhen, no human could see when Lambert’s knee gave way from the time a pegasus kicked him. Or the consequent hip problems he’d developed thanks to the knee healing badly. Eskel would help pick him up from the floor and settle him by the fire without a word. There was no room for sympathy in their world but they could still be compassionate. In turn, Vesemir would cook stews and soft foods on the days Eskel’s jaw seized up and he could barely open his mouth for more than a drink. And Lambert would take Geralt’s wood chopping duties on the days his elbow couldn’t bear the weight of an axe. There was a reason Vesemir stayed at Kaer Morhen almost year round. The older a witcher got, the more injuries they lived with and winters were more difficult. He knew that Geralt and Eskel were starting to feel their years when they arrived back sooner and left later, trying to avoid the trip up and down the mountain when riddled with so many aches and pains.

The letter from Lambert one year was both disappointing and a relief. He wasn’t returning for winter that year, something about having an invitation in the south. That year, winters were much quieter without his constant bitching. Instead, the other three suffered in silence which was almost worse. There was no snapping and snarling, the old keep was plenty big enough that they could avoid each other and nurse their hurts in absolute privacy. It was the loneliest year.

On the Path, it was pure chance that Eskel bumped into Lambert who looked much better than expected. He even managed to smile at Eskel.

“Come with me next winter, I’ll show you something amazing.”

The offer was one that caught Eskel off guard. Never before had Lambert been one to share, hoarding his stash of soothing creams and warm water skeins as if his life depended on it. Such an offer was made ever more curious when a cat witcher sauntered out of the woods, looking rather pleased with himself. He gave Eskel a once over and grinned.

“We’ve got room for you, big guy, bring the rest of your pack too.”

That winter, it was just Eskel and Vesemir at Kaer Morhen. They’d heard from Geralt to say he was going with Lambert and taking Jaskier with him too. The winds howled through Kaer Morhen and Eskel’s teeth chattered even as the scars on his face prickled from being so close to the fire.

In the spring, Geralt was at the bottom of the mountain looking rested and healthy. A bard was by his side looking tanned and spoiled.

“Meet me by the Theodula pass at the end of the year. We’re bringing Vesemir too.”

The year was harsh, new injuries, a badly set shoulder that Eskel had trouble with in the spring meant he was dreading winter. When it came time to decide which direction to turn, Eskel faced the north, he couldn’t risk the chance of Vesemir spending the year alone even if they weren’t much company for each other over the cold months. Dutifully, Eskel headed towards Kaer Morhen. At the bottom of the mountain, a vaguely familiar figure greeted him.

“Lambert and Geralt owe me. You need to head south, Wolf.” It was the cat witcher. “Vesemir is already half way there, Geralt had Jaskier sweet talk him into finally abandoning the old crumbling tomb.”

Without much choice, Eskel turned Scorpion around and Aiden accompanied him. The further south they headed, the warmer the weather got. They passed through Aedirn and Lyria into Sodden and Toussaint. Not that they stopped there which surprised Eskel, Geralt had always daydreamed about the place. Instead they carried on to Geso, Maecht, Etolia before entering Vicovaro. There, Aiden seemed perfectly at home, stripping out of his armour in the sweltering heat. A little more modest, Eskel allowed himself to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. They approached a sprawling mansion and Aiden hopped off his horse.

“Honeys we’re home!” he hollered. Eskel watched as the door opened and Lambert bounded out, seemingly full of energy. Behind him was another man, following with a little more dignity.

“Welcome home,” the man greeted Aiden with a kiss that was easy with well established familiarity. Lambert pulled Aiden in too with zero care for what was considered polite. Ignoring the two, the man turned to Eskel. “Welcome, I’m Cahir. You’re welcome to spend the the season here. From what I heard, Kaer Morhen hasn’t been the best of places to rest after a tough year.”

Understatement of the century, Eskel thought. He didn’t have much choice but to accept the seeming generosity of a stranger. One that Lambert apparently bedded, as did Aiden. And Geralt trusted too at that. From the doorway, Vesemir appeared, looking a little out of place still and Eskel could well and truly appreciate that.

As the weeks passed, it became easier. There was no cold, no worries about needing food and supplies in a hostile environment. Even the aches and pains that plagued them during the winter seemed to be held at bay. It was winter but Eskel could enjoy a crisp apple without his jaw locking, could chew even tougher meats and not freeze with agony of each move. The novelty of it put him in a good mood and, looking around, he could see the others in a similar state.

“From now on,” Cahir said one evening, a glass of wine in hand and Aiden’s feet in his lap, “I want you all to consider this your safe haven. Winter here and stay here all you wish. If you need a place to recuperate, you’ll always be protected here.”

It was a most generous offer, one that Eskel didn’t think could be a serious one. Nobody wanted witchers around, especially not if they weren’t on contract. Yet there was Cahir, seemingly comfortable with not only two witchers in his bed but three others in his home too. As time passed, Eskel learned that maybe he had been a little wrong. It was a serious offer for sure. And Cahir’s bed was big enough not for just two, but three witchers. It was something Cahir, Lambert and Aiden took great joy in proving to Eskel over and over again.

#geraskier #eskel/lambert/cahir/aiden #aiden/cahir/lambert #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #aiden #vesemir #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #chronic injuries and pain #long post #tldr: witchers suffer in the cold

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

What? What’s that I see? Is it- is it another heist fic??!? :O

Heisting Yet Again

Characters: Aguni Morizono, Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Last Boss, Chishiya Shuntaro, @a-simp-20 , @niragis-right-hand-rabbit , and your local bread pentagon, Me

Genre: Crack. We're fucking heisting again.

2.3k words

Well what do you know! There is :0!!! Looks like we're at it again guys, causing havoc to Hatter and having fun while we're doing it!

And look, there's even a guest joining us! How fancy! What have we stolen today folks? Well, guess you'll have to find out!

Hatter thought they were gone for good after they stole his precious couch. It was peaceful at the Beach, as peaceful as it could get anyways, and the days were going by swimmingly. He even got a new couch to replace his old couch, which soon became just as loved as his previous couch. He still hadn’t forgotten the robbery, of course, and if he ever saw those three ever again he’d give them a stern talking to before he set the militants loose on their asses. They were traitors after all, and everyone knew what he did to traitors.

If they were smart, they’d stay out of the way of the Beach’s wrath. Hatter was sure they’d try to evade him and anyone with the bracelet that noted them as members, but there was only so much of them compared to the hundreds of people under his beck and call that could bring them kicking and screaming back to his land. Why come back to the place they had forsaken except to die, after all.

But alas, he was sorely mistaken in that thought, as he wakes up in bed to light humming, and rather itchy wrists. He tugs his hand closer to his core without making a sound, the coarse and familiar feel of rope around his wrist telling him all he needed. For good measure he tries to pull his legs, but his ankles seemed to be under the same type of bounds.

The humming continues on, undeterred, as if they knew Hatter was unable to do anything. He turns his head, and in the darkness of the room he can make out a vague silhouette trodding around his room without a care in the world, and the song was somewhat recognizable, but nothing Hatter could name.

Keeping his cool, he whistles to catch their attention, the person yelping and whipping around. That earns a chuckle out of him, followed by an annoyed whine by the other.

“ That was mean, you know! You scared me!” They whined, Hatter still chuckling.

“ Aww, but it was necessary! So! Do tell, dear, what are you doing in my room, hm? I’m in quite a predicament here-“ He tugs again at the coarse rope that bounded his arm to the bed, “ And while I don’t mind whatever comes to be in bed between me and my partner, I don’t believe I’ve ever met you~ Or have I? I’m sure you look lovely in the light.” He purrs in an inquisitive manner. The person just stays still, and from what limited light Hatter had, they were actually fidgeting a little, as if willing to walk out and leave him there.

He had to tread lightly. Whoever this was, they couldn’t be here for a rousing game of Bed Twister, seeing as he was still dressed and there was not a single inch of mood lighting. Scandalous to just do it without even a little festivities and scenery slapped in, with only ropes to keep him company.

“ Well, actually that’s just so I don’t, like…. die. Anyways, it was nice talking to you, but I have things to do!” The person approaches, and Hatter tries to get a glimpse of their face, of anything recognizable. He only gasps as they get closer and the only thing he picks up is a closed unslutty version of his kimono and an obviously printed picture of… wait is that his face? Was his rope tying captor wearing his iconic face and kimono? In his room?

“ Oh, is that what I think it is? I dare say, I wasn’t aware you liked me that much that you’d imitate me~ I’m flattered~” The person actually snorts at that, and pats his entire face with their unnaturally cold hand, fingers splayed and in short bursts, Hatter not expecting it and jerking his head away with a laugh. “ Oh my, what did you do earlier to make them that cold-” “ Exist! Anyways, here you go!” They chirp, and there’s a faint quack noise as something is plopped on his chest and they walk away, Hatter watching them go with a pout.

“ I do think you’re forgetting something, what are you to do about my rather…… prone position?~ You can not simply leave me like this!” “ Uuuhhhhh…….. get that cool steak-looking guy to help! Okay bye, have fun!” They call out to him before opening the door and starting to leave, Hatter getting only the barest glimpse of the back of their head.

Only, this also lets him get a glimpse of whatever was placed on him, and once he saw the tiny goose on his chest coming up to his face, honking softly, he can only lay there bound like a prisoner as it comes closer with murder in its eyes before the light was snatched like his couch.

" Oh sweet toma- AH IT'S GOT MY NOSE-"

Morning comes, and Aguni comes in to Hatter’s face being used as a nest, the goose happily settled over his eyes. Aguni pauses for a second, confused, the goose napping.

“ Uhh…. should I come back later-“ “ Oh, Aguni, a little help here? I have been ravaged like no other!” Hatter calls out the moment he hears Aguni, the man coming over and looking down at his friend, Hatter’s wrists still tied to the corners. He quickly gets to work untying them, Hatter shooting up the moment he was free, the goose honking as it was launched off Hatter’s face and left to fall down onto his lap. Hatter pushes it off of him, not at all caring at the moment of its safety in favour of his own, taking off the covers and untying his poor ankles free. Aguni watches from the side of the bed with folded arms, Hatter getting up and rubbing his sore wrists with a frown.

“ Oh, you wouldn’t believe the horror last night!” “ Did another one set you up?” Hatter shakes his head, and wanders around the room and making sure everything was still in place. “ Even worse! I woke up to such a position, and without something there to keep warm in bed, and yet someone was here with me! Imitating my looks, but without the sexy factor, can you believe the horror? Oh, woe! I didn’t think it was possible!” Hatter held the back of his hand to his forehead, dramatically dipping back as if to faint. He remains on his feet, and smiles a little when Aguni puts a supporting hand on his back to help him back to a normal stand, Hatter looking at him with a now serious glint. “ I do believe they’re back, Aguni.”

Aguni cocks an eyebrow, face staying stoic. “ The ones that stole your couch?” “ That’s the one! I’m sure of it! After all, why else would they come in here and take the time to assure I could not apprehend them myself? They’re here to steal something.” Hatter grabs Aguni’s shoulders, staring deep into his eyes as his face falls into a crazed smile. “ Death to traitors, after all. We need to find them before they get away.” Aguni nods slowly, and Hatter lets go, pushing Aguni away as he marches out of his room with a totally not unhinged giggle. Aguni rolls his eyes and follows after, Hatter marching his way down and knocking on all of the executive’s doors to wake them up. There was no time to waste after all!

It takes a while, but eventually everyone is up, sitting or standing where they preferred, Hatter briefing all of them on the situation at hand. Niragi looked rather annoyed, leaning back in his seat and combing what hairs he didn’t managed to pull up into his bun out of his face.

“ Why the fuck would they come back? That’s a fucking death wish if I’ve ever seen one.” Niragi groans. “ It’s fucking too early for this." “ Well, who’s to say they haven’t already left? Didn’t you say that this….. imposter of yours entered your room possibly hours before? It would be stupid to stay this long.” Chishiya says with that all knowing tone in his voice, Hatter nodding.

“ Yes, but there’s a chance they haven’t! They must’ve been scouting out what to take next before the actual heist!” Hatter rebukes, and gives Chishiya a warning glance when Chishiya looks unconvinced.

“ So you need us to patrol the entire Beach for them, got it. Let’s go, time’s wasting.” Aguni gets up, looking at Niragi and Last Boss, Niragi getting up with a grunt and grabbing his gun. The three of them leave, and Hatter soon shoos the rest of them out to help search the entire Beach again for the three musketeers and see if anything looked out of place.

Hours pass, and yet when they regroup, nobody could offer anything of use. Ann even questioned if they were even there to take anything, but Hatter had a hunch, he just felt it in his bones. So they separate once more, Hatter making sure to comb every single place in his domain. How dare they, really, coming back here to try their luck once more.

The sound of what at first sounded like gunshots catches his attention, but he dismisses it at first, believing the militants were just doing something. Then when he hears it again followed by terrified yells, he looks up towards the source, only to see a rather giant grey dinosaur with an orange beak.

“ Hah….?” Hatter comes over to take a close look, and the dinosaur was in fact not a dinosaur, but might as well be one, the bird looking at Hatter’s direction and fluffing up its wings. Hatter stares at the massive grey mass of feather and the tiny crown that seemed to be held by a thin string around its head, the bird raising its head and making that gun-like sound again.

“ Oh, well then hello to you too- Where did you come from-“ Hatter takes another step closer, and the bird just bows its head with a head shake and then wanders off, Hatter watching it go. People around it were catering away, staring at the beast of a bird and giving it distance.

“ Strange bird….” Hatter mutters, watching it wander away. Something in his gut begged him to follow, and Hatter was a man of will, so he starts to follow this creature wherever it was heading.

It was good that he did, as he sees a very familiar trio of people, one of which was still wearing his face and kimono. The other two were wearing normal clothes, one in a different robe and petting the giant bird with a fond smile while the other was more modestly in simple street wear and a head covering. “ Hey! There you are!” Hatter calls out, and they all look in his direction.

“ Oh hewwo!” The one wearing his face waves to him, the other two waving as well. “ Don’t worry, we’re just gonna…… RUN! Go go go!” They gesture away from Hatter in three rapid hand motions. They’re all running away as fast as they could, and Hatter was not about to let them get away, chasing after them as fast as he could. With how he generally appeared, he looked like he wouldn’t have much stamina, but they have also never taken him to bed on a good day.

And today was gonna be a fucking beautiful day.

The three were still within Beach territory and therefore still had people to deal with, even if they had congregated in a less populated area, and Hatter pretty much knew the layout like the back of his hand. They ran through the space, Hatter having to move this way and that to keep them within sight. That bird was actually following them rather obediently, seeming content, Hatter internally thanking the bird for leading him to their little meetup spot.

Niragi and Last Boss appear around the corner just as they were coming up, Niragi laughing and raising his gun, fully intent on shooting them down. Even Last Boss got ready to attack, grabbing ahold of his sword.

“ Oh hi there you two!” The woman that was petting the bird earlier greets. The third of their little squad immediately just separates from the group to avoid Niragi and Last Boss altogether, the remaining two still running head on towards them.

“ Hah! You think that’s gonna stop me? I’m gonna shoot you right-“ He doesn’t get to finish as the girl leaps up and grabs his head to pull it closer, giving him a kiss right there on his cheek and slipping past the crispy raisin cake.

“ Bye you sexy giraffe! Stay sexy!” She calls out as she runs off, the second somehow slipping past the two militants along with the bird.

“ Remember to practice safety procedures you two! Don’t let your ankles get eaten!” The other yells, Hatter rushing past them as they stood there stunned by the act that just occurred.

Hatter was intent on catching them, and yet they seemingly had too much energy and nothing in their hands. Perhaps it was something small, like all the bathroom mints, or maybe even a hidden pistol underneath their clothes. Either way he had to stop them and put an end to them.

They make it out to where the cars where, and Hatter finally sees just what they stole:

“ Hey! That’s my wine cabinet!” Hatter yells, absolutely appalled by this egregious crime, the poor cabinet strapped onto a new car like it was nothing more than a box of wood as the three infiltrators climb in, the bird joining in the backseat. The one wearing the head covering peeks out with a smile. “ Oh, that’s not all! We also took all of your instant pancake mixes I hope you don’t mind!”

“ Excuse me, I do mind, thank you very little!”

The driver, now the woman that had kissed Niragi’s cheek like no big deal, pokes her head out and waves.

“ Oh well! See you later! This was fun!” She shouts before the engine rumbles to life and they peel away with his cabinet.

“ Oh you three……!” Hatter stares as they drive away with their second successful heist, shaking his head in disbelief and thinly veiling anger in his smile. “ You three are in for it now!~”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #hatter #takeru danma #morizono aguni #niragi suguru #last boss #takatora samura #chishiya shuntaro #you would think we'd be caught by now but this is also the laws of fiction so we're apparently great heisters #hatter not being able to catch us part two #yes of course I let you kiss niragi the chance was RIGHT THERE!#we're 100% on his hitlist in this version of the Beach #apparently I have several versions for the same Beach: one where we're criminals and one where we're not :D #then again the one where we're not also includes a giraffe with a man's head on it soooooo-#it's all just a combined ball of weaved yarn the universe is funky like that #in reality I would probably die the moment I start running-#yes I'm the one wearing Hatter's face it's just how it is #ask

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zira-blackwell · 3 years

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Check and Mate + [Penwell feat. Belle]

In which Zira successfully steals the first cobblestone and grows closer to her goal...[takes place: August 29]

@arthur-of-camelot, @labellerose-acheron

[tw -- graphic threats of violence]

BELLE: One would think that maybe having the King of Britons ‘round for a spot of tea was intimidating, but Belle was used to entertaining such characters of legend. After all, she was married to the King of the Underworld. And she’d dined with the Great Prince of Enchantra Forest. Had worked for the Queen of Swynake’s Fairy Hollow.

Besides, she quite liked Arthur. He was not quite as brash as some legends made him out to be. In reality, he was rather quiet, contemplative and thoughtful. She had her knight-memories, of course, of a young man who had been slightly more boisterous, but she found she liked this settled down second-life version of Arthur. The two of them got on quite well, especially considering the brash nature of a few of their comrades in arms. Yes, she was including Merida in this assessment.

They were meeting today to put the final touches on the trip to Elfhame. Belle’s notebook that she kept specially for this was out on the table and the teapot had cooled, the two of them already on their second cup each. The house was quiet. Hades and Toulouse had the children for the day, to give Belle the proper focus to plot the way she needed to.

And she was rather satisfied with the plan, overall. It was risky. There were a million ways that it could go wrong, but they’d done as much as they could. Overplanning would just get them in their heads about it.

“I don’t trust this fae prince, but I believe he at least intends to get us there and back in one piece. Other than that, the plan is solid. Don’t you think?” she asked, looking over at Arthur.

ARTHUR: The trip to Elfhame was one that Arthur had briefly considered taking part in himself. He wanted to, and thought that he should, seeing as he had lost Excalibur to someone after having tracked it down. But then he thought better of it. Largely because he was the sheriff of this town, and Arthur couldn’t leave the town defenseless if Zira did anything. He didn’t trust her not to do something.

But he did want to help as much as he could with the planning and with making sure that his knights had the best chance possible to retrieve Excalibur. If he couldn’t be there himself, he would do his best to support them here.

Arthur took a small sip of his tea, considering the notebook once more. “I do believe it’s the best plan that we have.” Did he think there were a lot of things that could go wrong? Yes, but there was only so much that they could plan for. The rest was out of their hands.

“I don’t trust him either, and it would be wise to keep a watchful eye on him, but I think he knows not bringing you back would have consequences. Tiana and I will be here and alert. If he were to return without any of you...it would not end well for him.”

BELLE: Belle nodded thoughtfully, smiling a little at the protective edge to Arthur’s voice. She thought it was nice and Bedivere recognized it too. There was an affection there that wasn’t hers, but she couldn’t deny. It was such an odd feeling. She wasn’t the kind of person to be coddled, but Arthur had a way of saying things that just sounded…warm. Not patronizing.

And while Belle was secure in the knowledge that Hades would raze Elfhame to the ground if she didn’t come back in one piece, it was nice to know there were others who felt the same way. Belle wasn’t the biggest team player, but she could admit to its advantages.

“I think he’s aware,” Belle told Arthur with a little nod. “He’s given his word to bring us all back and the fae are bound by their word. I think I covered all the loopholes, but even if I haven’t, from what I understand we only need him to get to Elfhame, not back again.” She smirked, a little light of mischief in her eye.

“Besides, I—“

There was a knock at the door.

Normally, an unexpected knock at the Acheron’s door was always cause for slight concern. Even Shuck, who had been contently lying on the floor near them was on his feet, a growl rumbling in his throat.

Belle was unperturbed. “Oh, I should get that,” she said, even though she had no idea who it was. She smiled at Arthur and then stood, moving to the door. Shuck walked ahead of her, his massive body blocking the doorway.

“Shuck, move,” she huffed and pulled the door open without looking.

“Ah, hello, Dr. Blackwell,” she said breezily.

“Hello, Mrs. Acheron.”

ARTHUR: “As long as we’ve got the basics covered it should be alright. And as I said, there are a few of us staying back so he would be held accountable.” Arthur believed that it would be alright. And he trusted his knights to have a good head on their shoulders. Belle going when he couldn’t helped him feel better as well. He knew that unlike some of the others, she usually had a pretty sound logic and wouldn’t just jump right into something.

He startled a little at the knock on the door, glancing over at Belle. Had she been expecting someone else? They hadn’t discussed that.

And then Arthur heard the familiar voice and he was on his feet in an instant, stepping behind Belle ready to back her up however he could. He didn’t have a sword on him, which felt like the worst mistake of his life, even if it was odd to go around with a sword strapped to your waist in this day and age. “Zira...what are you doing here?”

BELLE: Belle knew that she should be alarmed.

Actually, she was alarmed. She could feel her heart beating, but she also realized that she wasn’t in control. Her hand was on the doorknob and it had turned without her say so. It didn’t make any sense. Only that she knew she was somehow enchanted. Belle knew what that felt like. She had had magic used against her plenty of times.

She opened her mouth to say this to Arthur, to warn him, but nothing came out.

Instead, she could only look at him incredulously for a moment before turning back to Zira, who was smiling pleasantly at them.

“Hullo, Arthur. I would love to stay and chat, but as you are aware, I’m very busy these days.” Her gaze cut back to Belle. “Would you be a doll and fetch me what I’ve come for?”

“Of course,” Belle said, her brain supplying: cobblestone. She gave Arthur another horrified look before she found her feet moving of their own accord toward the stairs a few steps away.

ARTHUR: This shouldn’t have been happening.

How was Zira doing that? She hadn’t stepped inside or gone anywhere. Why was Belle doing exactly what Zira had said? It was like...well it was as if she was being controlled.

Arthur immediately stepped in between Belle and the stairs, an arm coming up to block her way to them. “And you expect that to work, Zira? Just have her walk over and bring it to you? Do you think that I would allow that?” Arthur asked, eyebrows furrowed as he steeled himself up.

He didn’t know what Zira was trying to pull, but he refused to allow her to get away with the cobblestone. The knights had found it and fully intended to keep it safe from her. “I suggest you leave.”

BELLE: Belle let out a little sigh of relief as Arthur stepped in front of her. She wasn’t in control of her actions. She knew that much, hopefully he realized it too and didn’t think Belle was betraying him. Belle was many things: not a very good team player, small and slight and not a very good fighter, but she also wasn’t someone who would betray someone. Not unless they betrayed her first. And Arthur hadn’t ever done that. In this life or the last.

But, she couldn’t speak.

“Hm, Mrs. Acheron, would you be a dear and inform Arthur of what I told you?” Zira said from the door.

“If anyone tries to stop me, I should slit my throat,” Belle repeated automatically. She blinked after she said it and turned to look at Zira, eyes wide with horror.

Zira just smiled. “Good girl, now run along.”

Belle looked again at Arthur and then reluctantly, but without her control, stepped around him and headed up the stairs. Her heart pounding. All she could think was she was glad the children weren’t home.

“I didn’t think I’d have to tell you to stay out of my way, Arthur, but apparently I was wrong,” she heard Zira comment with a sigh as Belle ascended the stairs.

ARTHUR: He couldn’t help but glare at Zira, though he reluctantly stepped out of Belle’s way. He couldn’t allow harm to come to her, though Zira’s methods were low. Despicable really to use someone in this way.

And once again, he wished he had Excalibur with him, that he could use it and swing at Zira and stop her evil right then and there.

Alas, he did not, and he couldn’t allow Belle to come to harm’s way. They would have to accept this loss. As infuriating as it was. “Really? You should know better than to expect me to just roll right over and let you take anything you want.”

Arthur stepped a little closer to Zira. “You might win today, but you will not win with this ridiculous scheme of yours. I will defeat you.”

ZIRA: The problem with being so moral and chivalrous meant you were so incredibly predictable. You could never gain the high ground because you weren’t willing to do the things that needed to be done. It was why Arthur was losing. He could not bring himself to use people the way that Zira did. He wanted to make friends with his minions. He cared about them. If their situations were reversed, Zira would let Belle open her neck and bleed out all over her new rug.

(There might be only the slightest twinge of regret in a mother recognizing a mother, but children lost their mothers every day.)

Zira had known that this would work. Had been so confident that she’d waited until Arthur was here to call on Belle’s compulsion. Nuka had done such a wonderful job with it, she would need to remind herself to thank him when the time came.

The floor creaked above them and Zira glanced up before looking back at Arthur.

“But isn’t that exactly what you’re doing? Rolling over and letting me take exactly what I want?” She stepped closer until she was right on the threshold, though she did not want to let him know she was magically bound to stay outside the house.

“You do not want to lose anyone and that is the difference between us: no one else matters as much as breaking the charter. I will leave a river of blood so deep I will wash this town into nothing more than a memory and stain the earth so nothing else can ever grow here.”

ARTHUR: He had only ever loathed one person as much as he loathed Zira in this moment. And that was Mordred, the person responsible for his death. Zira...she had a thirst for blood that was revolting and horrific, and she didn’t care who she would go through to get what she wanted.

“No. I’m not. Like I said, you win this time now, but you will not win the war. I will figure out how you did this.” And he would safeguard his knights so that something like this couldn’t happen again. He would make sure of it.

He took a step back from her, a cool smile spread across his face. “You will try. But you will fail. I look forward to you seething with frustration when all your little fantasies turn to dust.”

Arthur couldn’t help but glance back, worrying about Belle and how she was doing. He wished that he could do something to stop what was happening. He hated how powerless he felt at this moment. They would have to do better.

ZIRA: Arthur was so cute. He reminded her of a badger trying to defend itself from a lion. Admirable, but ultimately foolish. She supposed she could appreciate his tenacity and the belief in his cause. Even in the face of failure, he tried to keep his pride. At least he would not be boring to kill. In fact, he’d probably make it rather fun, dying like a martyr.

The top of the steps creaked and Belle appeared, descending the stairs. Zira smiled at her, denying Arthur a proper answer to his challenge. The beautiful, tragic woman slipped between them and dropped the stone into Zira’s hands, who curled her fingers over it.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You won’t win,” Belle snapped, her eyes burning with tears.

“Yes,” Zira’s eyes flicked toward Arthur. “Your king said the same thing.” She let out a put on sigh, especially considering vampires didn’t breathe, as she put the cobblestone in her bag.

“I look forward to seeing you try and stop me. Ta ta.”

And with that, she turned and sauntered down the walkway. Going a few steps before speeding up and disappearing into the dusk.

ARTHUR: As Zira turned away and left, Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Okay. So they’d lost this one. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. They could make this right. He was determined to make it right again.

But for the moment, he turned and stepped over to Belle, glancing her over carefully. “Are you alright?” He asked. Zira had threatened the woman’s life, and though no harm had come to her as Arthur hadn’t allowed that to happen, he still felt he needed to check in. Even if no physical harm had occurred, her bodily autonomy had been taken from her.

“I’m sorry. What she did...that was...well I know she has to have some form of magic...but I would never have guessed her capable of controlling someone like this.”

BELLE: The moment the stone fell into Zira’s hand, Belle felt her body return to her. She touched her neck, then her chest—feeling her heart beating frantically against her rib cage. She leaned against the stair bannister, but as soon as Arthur turned his gaze on he, she snapped to, like a proper soldier.

The team of Knights was mostly Mundus, as it had been before, and Belle refused to seem weak just because of that. She had dealt with far worse. If anything, she was just annoyed that it had been so easy for Zira. Her hand clenched into a fist around the banister and she took a breath. There was an intention for her to smile at Arthur, but it turned into a grimace.

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse,” Belle reassured him.

“Possessions are worse, let me tell you,” she chuckled dryly, trying to inject a bit of humor. Thinking about it, though, Belle had had her body snatched by her plenty of times. From possession to death to, well, pregnancy to be honest. Though, this didn’t feel like that.

It felt like—

“Oh. Wait—I know what that was. I-I think.” Belle brushed past Arthur as her brain turned back the clock years and years now. To a much more naïve Belle. Her gaze looked toward the door and then the kitchen.

“She didn’t cross the threshold, did she?” Belle asked, turning to her king. “I think she may be a vampire.”

#bdrparthur #bdrpbelle #penwell #zelle #check and mate #heating up y'all!!

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makeste · 4 years

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literally just a giant post of Bakugou faces.

today, 4/20 (actually it is very much still only 4/19 over here, but to heck with it, we’re getting an early start dammit), is Bakugou Katsuki’s birthday. and as someone who loves Bakugou and who also hasn’t found much worth rejoicing about in April 2020 in general, it’s important to me to celebrate the shit out of this day. but these are strange times and I am le tired, and so what my tired brain ended up arriving at was “just do a post about how much you love his stupid face.”

so these are my favorite Bakugou faces. I stopped after Kacchan vs. Deku because this post was already like 100k words (slight exaggeration) with like 40,000 faces (slight), and because this already took forever and the next 130-something chapters were only going to have about one fifth as many good faces compared to the first 120, even though there are some good ones there still to be sure. but anyway, so there are no spoilers here.

happy birthday Kacchan, and happy birthday to Kacchan’s angsty side profile with his hair covering his eyes.

why I like it: he scured.

lol but seriously. because up until this point he’s just been a complete asshole. even after he gets grabbed by sludgeman, he’s all “AS IF I’D LET THIS MUDMAN TAKE MY BODY FOR HIMSELF”, and he’s all feral-looking, and at first you’re like “eh he’ll be fine.” but then along comes this panel to serve as our narrator saying “he was not fine.” because he really is not. and on the page before this too, you can see how tired and desperate his struggles are starting to get. and absolutely no one is trying to help him. and he’s fighting, he’s straining, but he can’t. fucking. breathe.

and then this panel. and he’s just a kid. he looks so very, very young here, like this is the youngest he looks throughout the entire series except for in his flashbacks, and it’s because all the pride and bluster and anger are stripped away and he’s just a boy underneath it and he’s scared. “you looked like you needed saving.” exactly. exactly. and for Katsuki to actually ask for help is so rare. so you know that when he does ask (and he absolutely was begging for someone to come help him even though he couldn’t vocalize it. credit to Horikoshi for conveying all of that emotion in a single panel), he really, really needs it. thankfully there was one person watching who finally snapped himself out of that “a hero’s bound to come along soon” mindset that had everyone else gripped, and realized that he needed to be that hero.

why I like it: because he’s humiliated and fairly shaken up and also the most handsome he’s looked up until this point, but most of all he’s just chewing his lip and being all “god fucking dammit did fucking Deku really just save me, fuck my life, why is the universe fucking dumb.” like even after this hugely traumatizing experience, he’s incredibly resilient to the point where after he calms down, his lingering emotions are mainly just “smdh this is a new level of irritated even for me.” he is so brave and thickheaded and tough and absurdly, ridiculously petty jesus christ.

why I like it: like the old man said. his face just screams “I’m a rotten thief.”

there’s so much personality in this one expression. and then it’s juxtaposed against proto!Katsuki who I really desperately just want to punch in the face. just. my son my be a dick, but by god he’s an honest dick.

why I like it: baby?? cute baby??? mine?? my baby?!?

he’s just like. “I got it all figured out. gosh I’m so good at life.” that is the face of a child who has never encountered a single difficulty in his very young existence. everything is easy and he expects to be good at everything and he always is and he’s so, so pleased with himself. with a kid that little you really don’t want to go and shatter their dreams just yet, but maybe someone should have taken him down just a peg or two before it all got out of hand. alas. he was so cute that nobody wanted to and I can’t even blame them because he’s just that fucking cute, though.

why I like it: this is a very underrated panel which I think most people probably don’t even recall. it’s from chapter 11 just after he loses to Deku and Iida, and specifically right after Momo just completely lays into him and explains in vivid detail exactly how stupid every single one of his decisions was lmao. and it’s like he’s just had his eyes opened. he talks about her speech later, too, so it clearly had an impact.

there is no pride here at all. initially when I was reading this, I thought he was still shell-shocked. but looking back at it, and knowing what I do now about his unexpected willingness to accept criticism (something I certainly wouldn’t have expected during my first readthrough of this chapter), I think this is also a genuine “!” face as he realizes that she’s completely fucking right. YOU DONE GOOFED SON. but it’s okay because he learned from it!

also look how big his eyes are. when they get all wide like that. it’s so rare that I have to appreciate each and every time it happens. also he has no right to have such thick eyelashes. goddammit.

why I like it: because he’s strongest at his moment of weakness! because he’s upset but he learned from it! because he is such a strikingly human character with such complex emotions and there’s such a lovely mix of them on display here and that shit is my weakness! because this is when I signed the adoption papers (well, had them finalized after I initially obtained them after the “you looked like you needed saving” face in chapter 1, at least)!! because he always cries in front of Deku and doesn’t get embarrassed, but then he does get embarrassed if anyone else shows up! because his emotions around Deku are so raw and out of control! because the intensity of them is as compelling as it is confusing! but mostly because someone showing fierce determination while simultaneously showing intense vulnerability is basically the cheat code to unlocking my heart, and also the best thing anyone can ever draw in a shounen manga. thank you I’ll take infinity of them.

why I like it: because half of 1-A saw this face and instantly thought “fuck that’s hot” and then went “!! oh fuck me” but it was too late! that’s right kids. even knowing firsthand what a trashpile he can be, you’re still not immune to his charms. that confidence, though.

why I like it: the face of a boy who has just realized that holy shit, there are other people in his class. nothing gets past him. his reflexes are too fast.

why I like it: the slow motion (this is such a cool moment even if it’s at his expense lol), and the fact that this is such a weird and totally unique expression, and yet he somehow almost manages to make it look good. actually he does make it look good, let’s be real. of course, this was back when Horikoshi had more time to roll up his sleeves and really get into the art. look at all that shading goddamn.

why I like it: he cares!! he has feelings!! he has concern about someone other than him omfg whaaaaaat.

he’s so unsettled by what he just heard about Todoroki. the guy who was so strong and cool turned out to have an absolutely horrifying shounen protagonist past that he never let on about. honestly this scene is one of the reasons why I’m so strongly in favor of not interpreting Katsuki’s parents as abusive; because I just really like the character arc of him actually having a pretty good childhood, all things considered, but still having all these problems. because sometimes people actually do have everything going for them and yet they still screw up, because people are only human and sometimes you can fuck up (or be fucked up) even on easy mode! and if that happens it doesn’t mean you’re any more to blame, or more worthy of derision or scorn, or that you already had your chance so screw you, or any of that! anyway so that’s just such an interesting and relatively rare thing to explore and so I like it.

anyway. so just, the idea of him thinking of Todoroki as someone who had it made all his life, only to realize that’s not actually the case at all and that he’s actually the privileged one in comparison, just makes for a really great character-building moment. it’s a really big wake up call for him, especially given that he’s so often just wrapped up in himself and his own concerns still at this stage of the game. and it’s a moment that has a lasting impact on him and that he doesn’t forget, and it helps contribute to him starting to learn more empathy.

why I like it: my child is rabid please help.

but he’s so happy to have Ochako prove to be such an unexpectedly worthwhile opponent. she was sneaky and she nearly got him and he only just made it out by the skin of his teeth and fuck yes, that was awesome. he was really ready to throw down some more with her and it was gonna be the highlight of his fucking day. I just love seeing him acknowledge other people’s strength, because we know the value he places on being strong. so that’s a ton of respect from him, and Ochako fucking earned it, and this is just a great moment.

why I like it: just casually spittin facts and launching ships. nothing to see here move along.

why I like it: for everyone reblogging that one scene of shoujou!Bakugou from the anime over and over again, I just want to remind you all that as great as that scene is, we shouldn’t forget that in the manga he can be effortlessly handsome without even trying.

why I like it: as I said above.

why I like it: another one of the infamous “haah!?” faces. whenever he does these that one raised-eyebrow eye always goes so wide, and even though he’s trying to look like a pissed off thug it always makes him look surprisingly young instead.

also I’m not crazy for seriously wondering if Horikoshi’s art peaked all the way back in the sports festival arc though, right?? you honestly can’t find a bad panel even if you specifically go out and look for them.

why I like it: babyyyy.

I still don’t get how anyone could watch this scene and not get that he was way more upset than he was actually angry. he looks like he’s about to cry honestly.

why I like it: MY PRECIOUS SON’S ANGELIC SLEEPING FACE. all tuckered out. he’s had a hard day.

but seriously when you smooth out all of the >:O it is amazing how young he actually looks though. this one panel is shaded in such a way that you can see that he still has baby fat in his cheeks!! he’s just a little boy! HE IS A LITTLE CHILD LIKE THE REST OF THEM AND YOU MADE HIM PARTICIPATE IN THESE HUNGER GAMES AND HE KICKED ASS AND THEN GOT SAD AND YOU MADE HIM SLEEP AND CHAINED HIM TO A POST WHEN HE WOKE UP ANGRY AND TRYING TO BITE PEOPLE. anyways what a whirlwind of events huh.

why I like it: this child is literally trembling. he has been shaken to his very core. also for real though how did Jeanist even do that. anyways great internship or greatest internship.

why I like it: this is from chapter 60, right after he basically declares war on Deku and says he’ll crush him during final exams. then he turns around and is just like AND LET’S NOT FORGET THIS ASSHOLE HERE!!! and his eyes are practically bulging out and Todoroki just has his trademark “!!!” totally blank stare. this panel fully kills me guys.

why I like it: how was he THE CUTEST CHILD WHO EVER LIVED?? look at his little fists?! I can’t even deal with this???

why I like it: I actually like this one even more than the more iconic “the strongest heroes always win in the end” panel right below it, because in this panel you can more clearly see that he was crying quite a lot (he was only six!!), but it seems to me that it was more because of the unfairness of it than because he was hurt. even though he was hurt. but these jerks bumped into him and then acted like it was his fault, and it was two against one and he was much younger than them and IT’S JUST ROUGH YOU GUYS! LIFE IS HARD WHEN YOU’RE SIX! but he’s a little tough guy though so he scrubs the tears away in this very clumsy and boyish fashion because HE WON ANYWAY SO TAKE THAT! he is so little but already so determined.

why I like it: his eyes are just so intense all the time. even when it’s not an intense moment at all. also the dot shading here is so cool.

why I like it: okay so technically it’s the back of his head and not his face. but I feel like the fact that Kacchan was twitching and flinching and shaking too doesn’t get enough attention in this scene. he and Todo were both wigging out here and I love it. during the third light novel he also gets freaked out by the whole Disney Channel “we were telling a ghost story but now it seems like the story has come to life” plot that goes on at one point, just fyi. Kacchan is absolutely that kid who will refuse to watch scary movies just because “they’re dumb” and definitely NOT because he is scared, how fucking dare you sir.

why I like it: because this is the first of many scenes in this arc and the next arc in which he is freaking out but doing an excellent job of covering it up with his natural ferocity. he and Shouto have just come across one of their classmates’ arms lying in the middle of the path being chewed on by a villain in a straitjacket. his first reaction is to ask Shouto which of their classmates had been out on the path in front of them. he has immediately put two and two together, and he is immediately ready to throw hands with this dude, rules or no rules. but you can see the shading over his eyes though, and I think that -- along with the sweat visible on his face -- is a huge indicator of how horrifying this actually is to him.

why I like it: because this blank “processing...” expression that he sometimes gets when a lot of people are talking at once and he’s not really sure but he is pretty sure that he doesn’t like where this is heading, is my favorite.

why I like it: because even now it’s still ambiguous just what exactly was the prevailing emotion in these eyes and this expression, and the prevailing sentiment behind the “stay back.” I happen to think it was fear! not the same overwhelming, helpless fear as the 14-year-old who was caught up in the sludge, but a very on-edge, controlled-panic fear of a 16-year-old who’s trying to remain in control because he’s a hero in training now. and I think the “stay back” is the “stay back” of a boy who knows the look in that other boy’s eyes, and knows that it’s no use this time. it’s not protective, and it’s not hostile or defensive either. it’s just... resigned. don’t do it, Deku. that could have been the last thing he ever said to him, and it was measured and brave even through his fear and I love him so much.

why I like it: this is one which has to be viewed in juxtaposition with the panel immediately above it lol. Tomura looks like he could literally stare a man to death with those crazy eyes, and Kacchan is comparison just looks so ridiculously young and small and out of his league. but he doesn’t crack. but his eyes are super wide and even the shadows underneath them are stressed almost to their breaking point. like I’m screwed I’m screwed I’m so goddamn fucking screwed oh shit. my baby, guh. this was such a fucking scary experience though for real??

why I like it: same deal as above lol. this whole situation just keeps getting worse and worse, and here he’s just probing for more information while simultaneously trying to buy himself more time to think of a miracle plan. there really isn’t much chance of him getting out of here unscathed at this point (or at least there wouldn’t have been if the heroes hadn’t shown up), but I don’t think he’s letting himself think about that yet. but I’m sure it’s there at the back of his mind all the same.

why I like it: this is my favorite Bakugou face ever. SO MANY EMOTIONS. All Might came to save him! his hero!! he beat the bad guys (or so they think for that brief moment anyway) and it’s all okay now! he was alone but now he’s not anymore and All Might is there! and he is relieved, and he actually lets his guard down to show it for just a split second! his lip is trembling! I don’t think he even realizes for a moment, and then he does, and he immediately goes all tough guy again and the moment is gone! but while it’s there! it’s so much! I have never so badly wanted to hug a fictional character in my life.

why I like it: don’t you think this person could one day inspire thousands of others. do you see this courage in those eyes. the way he pushes past fear and panic and fatigue. don’t think, don’t doubt. just win.

why I like it: by now you have probably detected a pattern of me liking all of the Kamino faces because he was going through so many emotions that for once the walls just couldn’t keep up. he always looks so much younger when he’s not making >: faces. everything just smooths out. I also like that Horikoshi never makes his expressions symmetrical; he almost always has one eye wider than the other, eyebrows doing different things, stuff like that.

also this is when he sees All Might’s true form for the first time, and you can just see it hit him like a punch to the gut. All Might weakened; All Might weakened because of him; All Might might lose (!?!); All Might might die???? Katsuki’s entire world is falling apart in an instant, and in this moment he’s just a little boy.

why I like it: it beginsss. the angstening.

he’s not even resisting the hand guiding him. none of his usual unruliness or general aura of barely-checked rage. he just looks tired. and completely lost in his own thoughts. which as we now know were not good. I cannot fucking believe we had to wait another 25 chapters after this to finally get this kid a damn hug.

why I like it: because Bakugou Mitsuki is fulfilling my (and dating sim!Momo’s) lifelong dream of ruffling Bakugou Katsuki’s (spiky yet fluffy!!) hair. and all he can do is just chew his lip and halfheartedly glare at her all “mooooooOOOOmmm.” he doesn’t even really look pissed off here (because it’s hard to be mad when someone is talking about how worried they were about you and how relieved they are that you’re safe now, especially when that someone is your mom who isn’t normally the type to be so open about this kind of stuff at all), just begrudgingly grumpy. and I swear to god his bottom lip is made of fucking rubber the way he moves it around, just look at it.

why I like it: those eyelashes though!?!? [grabs Katsuki by the shoulders and shakes him roughly] WHY ARE YOUR EYES SO PRETTY.

why I like it: this is right after he found out he flunked the license exam, and you can see how upset he is. obviously we now know that shortly thereafter he went and had a complete meltdown. and buddy if you keep grinding your teeth like that, your dentist is also going to have a meltdown.

and yet again Horikoshi manages to strike this uncanny balance between making him look pissed off and making him look like he’s trying very, very hard not to cry. he just failed, again. it’s like the whole world is screaming at him over and over again that he’s not hero material at all.

why I like it: because he drags Deku out to the middle of nowhere and is all “I know you have All Might’s power and we’re gonna fight”, and Deku protests, and you expect Kacchan’s reaction to be just about anything other than what it actually is. this is as close to pleading as Katsuki is ever going to get. he may not be drowning in sludge but he is still desperate.

why I like it: this may be the best Katsuki that Horikoshi has ever drawn.

why I like it: super ultra mega unpopular opinion: I like this panel even more than THE PANEL!! that follows shortly after it. I am a sucker for when Horikoshi does this thing where he shows Katsuki’s face from a side profile, and his eyes are covered by his hair so you can’t see his full expression, but you know it is something vulnerable because he only ever does this when Katsuki is trying to hide his vulnerability. I could make a whole separate post just about these hair-covering-eyes faces lol. but out of all of them this is my absolute favorite. I can hear Okamoto’s voice acting in my head just looking at it.

why I like it: because it is THE PANEL. he finally broke completely; he let the walls fall away; he couldn’t hide it any longer. he’s so unbelievably torn up about this; he hates himself for it and feels like a failure; he’s lost and doesn’t have the faintest idea how to find his path again. he ended the Symbol of Peace. he was weak and wrong, and Deku was strong and right, and he can’t even hate Deku for it anymore, he just wants to understand what it is that he keeps doing wrong, why it is that he keeps failing.

why I like it: it’s, uuuuuh, angst.

lol it’s funny because at the beginning of the series, it was always Deku who was always crying at the drop of a hat. and to be fair this is still true. but Katsuki also cries way more than I would ever expect a rival character in a shounen manga to cry. and specifically he has cried every single time he’s had a dramatic and overly emotional altercation like this with Deku (and that’s three separate times now). is it because he’s always felt like he has less to hide around Deku? or because his Deku Emotions are so much more intense and volatile than his other emotions? at any rate, whatever it is, if this happens one more time (and I guarantee you it will too because A Certain Someone still hasn’t officially made an apology yet) he will officially lose all authority to ever call Deku out for being a crybaby again. meanwhile poor All Might will just be beside himself. I’m sorry dude, both of your children are just like this, you just gotta deal with it and accept their feelings.

why I like it: HE FINALLY GOT HIS HUG, BLESS.

and more hair covering his eyes! and chewing of the lip! and his head is bowed so much here, he fully allowed himself to be pulled into this hug and to accept this gesture of comfort for once in his life, just for a moment! after everything he was feeling, everything he was beating himself up over, All Might comes and tells him it’s not your fault. and there’s still so much guilt there, but he needs to hear this so badly that he accepts it all the same. meanwhile he is also CRYING AGAIN!? because this was the chapter where Horikoshi said “I am going to put all of the angst and cathartic conflict resolution into a single fight and it’s going to be the best thing ever” and it really was. do you even understand how much I love this. do you??

why I like it: OH GOSH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS, THIS IS MY OTHER FAVORITE KATSUKI HAIR-COVERING-EYES PANEL.

oh no. he’s ruffling his own spiky fluffy hair. he’s tired and he’s beat up (and whose fault is that lmao) and he’s learning all kinds of new things about himself today. he’s got basically nothing left in the tank, but for the first time in ages he has his path laid out in front of him again and he knows the way to start moving forward. he has been absolved of his guilt, the guilt which was eating a hole away inside of him. and all of a sudden he realizes -- it occurs to him -- hey, All Might finally admitted it, he really did give his power to Deku. but it’s still a secret though, isn’t it? it’s important, isn’t it? and so he tells them, hey, look, I get it, I won’t say anything, you don’t have to worry. it’s partially gratitude -- he owes so much to All Might and it’s ridiculous, that’s a fucking debt right there, and this is the least and only thing he can offer right now in return -- and it’s partially just... the right thing to do. like, common sense. honorable and shit. and it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. but just, let them know.

I love his side profile so much and I love his hair and his ear and the scuffs on his face and his beaten up hand and his hunched up shoulders and him being soft and trying not to show how soft he’s being and he is precious.

BONUS:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY HANDS IN POCKETS GRUMPY TRIANGLE EYES ROVING FERAL HOG SON, I LOVE YOU.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #makeste reads bnha #HEAVEN #MUST BE MISSIN' AN ANGEL #MISSIN' ONE ANGELLLL CHILDDDD #[camera pans over to the feral toddler digging through trash while I sigh in fondness]#bnha meta #bakugou meta

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Ectober 1: Fog

AKA Familiar Part 3.

Find this and the first two entries to this series here.

Beyond the tiny off-color spot in the center of his right eye, the whole ‘kidnapped and forced to be part of a weird magic ritual’ thing hadn’t altered Danny’s appearance. Good. That was something he always worried about. He let out a long, soft sigh that fogged the mirror in front of him before leaning back.

The police and Danny and Sam’s respective parents had believed the ‘overshadowed and kidnapped’ explanation as well, thank goodness, so they hadn’t gotten in trouble. Which… maybe shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, considering that it had been true, if edited for length and certain damning content (e.g. all the parts with Danny being a ghost and the aforementioned magic ritual). Tucker’s eyewitness account had helped.

Vivian hadn’t made a repeat appearance so far, which was also good. At least, Sam hadn’t called him about her. Danny rubbed his right eye. Something told him she wouldn’t have to call him to know she was in trouble.

Good.

Overall, the time since Danny had flown them back through the portal had been pleasant, or nearly so. He felt happy and oddly secure. Was it just knowing that Sam was alright? She was a major target of his ghostly Obsession. Maybe they could get Tucker in on this as well? They’d taken the book with them, and Danny wouldn’t mind getting stabbed again.

His core vibrated happily in his chest, making his heart and bones shiver.

Yes, that would be nice…

There was a sharp rap on the door. “Danny?” called his mom. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been in there a while, and something like being kidnapped by a ghost…” She trailed off, a touch of anxiety in her voice. “That can be traumatic.”

Oh, no. He’d made Mom worry. Happy feeling gone.

“I’m fine,” he said, turning on the faucet to make it seem like he’d just started washing up. “Really!” He shut the water off and dried his hands quickly before opening the door. “Just, you, know, a bit tired, that’s all.” He smiled, broad and genuine.

Maddie smiled back, although her brow was pinched. She had pushed her hood back, and her hair was frizzy with static. “You were missing for almost a whole day, Danny. You’ll have to forgive me for worrying.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mom.”

She sighed and ruffled Danny’s hair. “At least, next time you think a friend is being possessed, if there ever is a next time, come to me and your father. Okay? Making sure ghosts don’t hurt people is our job. So is keeping you safe.”

The irony. If only Danny got paid, he could say the same thing. Alas, it was not to be.

He nodded and smiled. No promises. “I think I’m going to go up to bed, now, if that’s okay?”

“Alright,” said Maddie. “Do you still want to go to school tomorrow? Everyone would understand if you didn’t.”

“Yeah. I just- It wasn’t that big of a deal. I want things to go back to normal.”

“Wow,” said Tucker, pointing at Danny. “That is not normal.”

“What’s not normal?” asked Danny, looking down at himself. Had he spilled something on his shirt without noticing? It had happened before. But, no. Everything looked just like it had when he put it on this morning.

“You’re wearing black,” said Tucker.

Danny looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. So?”

“All black.”

“Okay, captain obvious.” He turned to his locker and started putting in his combination. The hallway was just a little bit too crowded for him to feel comfortable phasing through the door to fish for his books.

“You never wear all black.”

“That’s not true. We all wore black at that Saints’ Fire concert just a couple of months ago.”

“Yeah, but that was for a concert. Danny, you’re even wearing the boots Sam got you!”

“I know what I’m wearing, Tucker. It’s just clothes. Do we need our textbook for English today? Or can I just bring Mockingbird? I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Just Mockingbird. Did something happen while you and Sam were in the Zone?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, honestly. “A couple of things. Got complicated. That ghost is apparently Sam’s ancestor. And also a witch. Witches and magic are a thing, I guess.”

“You sure? Could just be ghost powers,” said Tucker, momentarily distracted.

“Pretty sure it’s magic,” said Danny.

“Danny! Tuck!”

The two boys turned to face Sam, who jogged up to them and then doubled over, hands on her knees.

“Are you okay?” asked Danny, worried.

“I wasn’t able to sleep,” said Sam. “Too much energy. You?”

“I slept normally. Had to fight the Box Ghost at three, but,” he shrugged, “that’s normal.”

Sam straightened. “We need to—” She stopped, blinking. “You’re wearing black.”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged.

“Why?”

“You said I should?”

Tucker made a sound like a dying pterodactyl. “Something happened!” he said, excitedly. “They’re embracing their feelings. I’m so honored to witness.” Tucker proceeded to squeal.

“Dude,” said Danny, “what is wrong with you?” Then he glanced at Sam.

Sam looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

Danny deflated. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward, concerned. “I mean, other than not having slept.”

“We really need to talk.”

“Aw, come on, Sam, you can’t end your romance before it even begins,” said Tucker in a singsong voice.

The warning bell went off.

“Lunch, I guess?” asked Danny.

“Sure.”

They sat down in their usual spot behind the school, where no other students went because it was both out of the way and lacked anything resembling a comfortable place to sit. Sam, Tucker, and Danny, however, had adapted.

“So,” said Tucker, rubbing his hands together with glee. “You have to tell me the details. All the details. What happened? Are you guys dating now? How did you get de-liquified? That really freaked me out, by the way.”

Sam put her hands over her face and groaned. “No, we’re not dating. Ugh. How do I even explain what’s going on?”

Danny jumped in. “Sam’s witch ancestor did something weird to my powers and wouldn’t let us go until we did a ritual that, uh, sort of bound me to Sam as a familiar spirit. Also, she wants Sam to be her apprentice. So, we have that to look forward to.” He fished his sandwich out of his bag.

“Wow,” said Tucker. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“That was a lot more concise than I expected,” said Sam.

“It hits all the important points, though. Except for the de-liquification. If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure how that happened.”

“Right,” said Sam. “Anyway, we have to figure out how to undo it.”

Danny choked on his sandwich. “What? Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’” demanded Sam, clearly aggrieved.

Danny furrowed his brow. “I know we didn’t do it under the—”

“Word of advice, man, whatever you did do, don’t phrase it as ‘do it.’ Unless this ritual thing involved—"

“Tucker?” said Sam, blushing furiously.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Got it. Sorry. I blame hormones.”

Danny had no idea what Tucker was talking about but decided not to ask. Instead, he let out a quick puff of air. “I know we didn’t want or ask for this, but it does seem to come with some benefits. Did you try out any of the spells in the books we took with us last night?”

“No, because the last one made me stick a needle in your eye!”

There was a fundamental misunderstanding happening here. A disconnect. Danny tilted his head. In moments like these, Spectra’s voice seemed to echo in his head. He ignored it.

“I didn’t mind,” said Danny. “I’ve been hurt worse. Besides, they don’t all need you to stick a needle in my eye. I read them, too, you know.”

“Do you not care about how you can’t lie to me?”

“No? You already know all my big secrets, anyway.” Danny didn’t know why Sam was so upset about this, but it was starting to make him anxious. His fingers had made deep impressions in his sandwich.

“Wait,” said Tucker, “it does what?”

“Yeah!” said Sam, running an agitated hand through her hair. “That’s not all, either. Apparently, he has to follow all my commands, too, like I’m some kind of discount Freakshow!”

“This isn’t like Freakshow!” protested Danny. “I didn’t have any choice about that!”

“You didn’t have any choice about this either,” said Sam, making a sweeping motion with her hands so violently that she rocked back on her heels. “We were basically hostages. You can’t tell me that you’re actually okay with this.”

“I am okay with it,” said Danny, taken aback by Sam’s vehemence. “I like knowing that you’re safe, and, if you have powers, too, you can, you know, be safer. Also, it would be cool if there was someone else who had them, I guess.” His sandwich was well and truly squished at this point. “I was actually… Earlier, I was thinking that it might be a good thing to see if Tucker can get in on this, too.”

“You’re joking,” said Sam, flatly.

“Dude, I think we’ve all seen that I do not handle power well.”

“No,” said Danny, shaking his head. “I like this. And I trust you. Both of you.” His face twisted up. “Maybe back when we started out, and you were talking about freeing zoo animals and wrecking Hummer dealerships I might have been a little apprehensive, but, even back then, I know you wouldn’t have made me do anything I didn’t want to do. You guys let me overshadow you to practice. This isn’t really any different. Right?”

“Don’t look at me, man,” said Tucker, raising his hands. “You two are the ones on the inside.”

Sam stared at Danny for a moment longer before pinching the bridge of her nose. “We need to undo this,” she said, firmly.

The edges of Danny’s eyes started to hurt, and he blinked them rapidly. “Okay,” he said. “If you want to.” It did affect Sam, too, after all. If she didn’t feel like she had consented, then undoing it really should have been a no-brainer.

Danny really didn’t want to undo it. He liked this. He liked the way it made him feel.

“After school,” said Sam.

“Okay,” whispered Danny, looking down at his destroyed sandwich. “I guess I should get rid of this, huh?”

And then he ran.

It would be wrong to say that Sam didn’t feel guilty. She did. She felt hugely, incredibly guilty. Like she’d kicked a puppy.

Thing was, she didn’t exactly have a choice. Danny obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. The ritual must have done something to his head beyond screwing with his free will.

How could anyone be happy when they were forced into obedience?

If they let this go on, Danny would eventually resent her more than she resented her parents. After all, her parents didn’t have mind-control abilities.

“Hey,” said Tucker, breaking the silence that had lain over them since they started the walk to Sam’s house. “Not to be a downer, but what do we do if that ghost—”

“Vivian,” supplied Sam.

“Vivian, right. What do we do if she comes back and she wants you to do magic stuff? Or she gets mad that you cut your connection? We didn’t do a super great job of fighting her last time.”

Danny shrugged, exhaustion evident in the curve of his spine. “We do what we always do. It won’t be the first time it takes us two tries to fight someone.”

“Strategies?” prompted Tucker.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can find some kind of weakness in those books… Though, she probably wouldn’t have let us take them if we could get her weakness from them. If all else fails, I guess we could chuck a bucket of water at her.”

“I hate to say it, but I doubt the Wizard of Oz is a good source for how to deal with witches,” said Tucker.

“Well, considering all the other ways of ‘dealing with witches’ are literal torture, that’s all I’ve got.” Danny’s words were clipped.

Yeah. He was mad.

“We could try some charms and stuff,” suggested Sam.

“Before or after we cut our bond?” asked Danny, no inflection in his tone. “Because that might make the difference.”

“Danny, I’m just not comfortable having you as my slave. Which is what this comes down to.”

“I know,” said Danny. He still didn’t sound happy.

They reached Sam’s house, and they all crowded into Sam’s room for the most intense study session ever. Not counting Tucker’s post-Ember deprogramming.

Sam started with the original book, the one the ritual had come from in the first place. Reading it again made her so mad. Mad enough that, at first, she didn’t notice her rapidly increasing heartrate. Not until she was pressing her hand against her chest and struggling for breath.

“What,” she gasped, “was that?”

Danny shook his head, eyes wide and worried even as he kept his fingers wrapped securely around Sam’s wrist. “I don’t know. Whatever happened, though, your pulse is going back down. What were you looking at?”

“Just the ritual from before… I wanted to see if there were loopholes we could use,” said Sam, trying to get her breathing back under control.

Tucker plucked the book from where it had fallen near Sam’s knee and scanned the page. He winced. “Hey, it says here that your side of the deal is giving Danny your heart.”

“Yeah?” said Sam.

“Your heart, which just went crazy when you started trying to figure out a way to back out of the deal?”

Sam felt Danny’s hand contract around her wrist. “Oh,” he said. “But I didn’t want that to happen.” He sounded lost, hurt, and more than a little offended.

“I know, man,” said Tucker, soothingly, “but you don’t want the contract to be broken, either, right?”

“No,” admitted Danny. “I’m sorry, I like it.”

“Yeah. So,” said Tucker, “I guess it isn’t as one-sided as you thought, Sam.” He made a face. “What was your ‘promise,’ anyway?”

“To be friends,” said Danny. “We thought that would cause the least amount of issues, in case there were penalties.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” said Tucker. “That makes sense.”

It did.

This was bad.

This was the worst-case scenario. Sam bit down on her lip. Danny was- It was like he was in a fog, as far as this thing went. That’s the only way she could describe it. There was no way he was seeing the situation clearly. It didn’t matter if it was because of the familiar contract or Danny’s ghostly nature.

If Tucker was right and Sam had a heart attack every time she tried to do something about it…

Yeah. That wasn’t good.

“Maybe we should look at something else for today,” suggested Danny, far too cheerfully. “Like, we should see if you can do some of these spells and how it affects us. It seems like I’ve been feeding you energy somehow, right?” He began paging through one of the books. “That’s probably why you were awake all last night. That’s going to be useful, I bet, and oh! This one sounds cool. We could make fog everywhere. Just think about it, Sam. We could be so spooky at night!” He brought out the puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh,” said Sam. “Fine.” She stabbed a finger at Tucker. “You keep searching for a way out.”

The corners of Danny’s lips twitched downward at that, but sprang back up when Sam turned her attention to the spell he had picked out. Weakly, Sam smiled back.

This was going to be hard.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week 2020 #day 1

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suzuki-violin-school · 3 years

Text

Thanksgiving Special !!

Part of a holiday special series!

Most of the other students are home for the holidays, spending time with their families. A certain group of kids from class 1-A, however, are all staying at the dorms during the break, and they’ve decided to take matters into their own hands regarding the holidays. This was supposed to be a short xTodoroki drabble but now it’s almost 3000 words with no particular ships

Masterlist

Content: fem!reader, pure fluff, Todoroki being a precious clueless baby, Bakugo saying bad words, cards against humanity, togetherness, thanksgiving themes, autumn themes

Y/n stared into the oven, her ankles beginning to get sore from crouching for so long.

She opted to sit on the floor instead.

“It’ll cook faster if you’re not looking,” Kirishima said, glancing down at her. “That’s what they say, at least. Like watching paint dry.”

“That’s not the only reason I’m down here,” Y/n said. She smiled up at him. “It’s warm.”

“If you want heat, just ask Todoroki for a hug or something! ...God knows he could use it,” Kirishima mumbled. He turned to lean against the counter, facing out towards the main space of the common area. “Can’t believe there’s so many of us staying for the holidays!”

“Yeah!” Y/n said enthusiastically. “But that just means we get to be each other’s families and celebrate together! ...God knows we’re a better family to Todoroki than Endeavor.”

A floating coat and earmuffs bounded up to them happily.

“It smells great over here!” Hagakure said excitedly. “That means all the food is doing good, right?”

“Yep!” Y/n said. “We followed just about every recipe we could find.”

“I’ll be surprised if we can eat it all,” Kirishima said, laughing.

“Seriously? I’m afraid we won’t have enough!” Y/n said, getting up from the floor. “How are things on your end, Toru?”

“Aoyama, Tokoyami and I all went super ham at the store! We bought every decoration you can think of!” Hagakure said proudly. “And lemme tell ya, a lot of it’s covered in glitter.”

“Well, Aoyama was on décor duty,” Kirishima said, shrugging. “What did we expect?”

“Did Tokoyami get regular decorations or edgy, goth ones?” Y/n asked. She heard someone clearing their throat and saw that Tokoyami was sitting on a couch in the common area, unpacking a shopping bag and laying things out on the coffee table. “I’m kidding!”

“How’s the construction team doing?” Kirishima asked, looking towards Hagakure’s floating clothes.

“It’d be a lot easier with Yaomomo here,” she said, sighing. “But alas, she’s with her rich, rich family.”

“I’m sure they’re doing well,” Tokoyami said. “Shoji, Sero, and Todoroki know how to work well with others. I’m more worried about Bakugo.”

“Pfft! Don’t let him hear you say that,” Y/n said, laughing. “He’ll take it the wrong way, all like, ‘worried about me? What, you don’t think I can take of myself? I’m Bakugo, I get offended when people care about me and I yell at everyone all the time and don’t know how to express my emotions’!”

“Man, I love your impressions,” Kirishima said, laughing to himself.

“I don’t.”

Bakugo walked through the common area, hands in his pockets and his usual angry expression on his face. He walked right up to Y/n, but she spoke before he could berate her.

“Yeah? I don’t care. Buuut, if you’re gonna be a jackass while you’re here, you should go home to your family like the rest of the class!” She said, pushing him away to a respectable, less ‘in-my-face’ distance. “I mean, Midoriya’s with his mom, Yaomomo’s back in her family’s mansion, hell, even Tsu’s out with family!”

“Hey, has anyone seen Ashido?” Kirishima asked, cutting off Bakugo’s response.

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t,” Hagakure said, looking around. “Last time I checked, she was sketching out her design plans on the couch.”

“Well, I trust her,” Y/n said dismissively. “Maybe disappearing for an hour or two is part of her creative process. You guys will be helping her put all your decorations up, right?”

“Of course we will,” Tokoyami said.

“Bakugo, what’s your contribution for our little party?” Hagakure asked. Bakugo scoffed.

“We are not letting you celebrate the holidays with us unless you pitch in and do your share,” Y/n said sternly. “The rest of us are working hard to make this holiday break fun, and you’re doing jack shit.”

“Oh, she’s being strict,” Hagakure said, laughing. “You’d better watch out, Bakugo, she’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah, right, like she could touch me,” he grumbled. “...So what the fuck do you even want me to do?”

“Good question,” Y/n said. She hummed to herself as she thought for a moment. “Entertainment!”

“Ooh, good idea!” Hagakure chirped, smiling even though no one could see. “You could go out and get us some board games, or video games maybe, or a new movie, or buy us a stereo, or-”

“I get it, shut up,” Bakugo said, annoyed. “I’ll go out and buy some shit, but then I’m done.”

Y/n sighed loudly.

“Kirishima and I made a whole feast’s worth of food, Aoyama, Tokoyami, and Hakagure went out and bought decorations to put up with Ashido, and Todoroki, Shoji, and Sero are installing an entire new fireplace into the building,” Y/n muttered to herself. “And BaKuGo is going to buy us a BoArD gAmE.”

She shook her head to herself as she turned her attention back to the oven. Kirishima patted her shoulder.

“He’s Bakugo, we should’ve expected this,” he said quietly, not wanting Bakugo to hear him. He smiled suddenly. “I’ll look after the food, you go check on Sero and the guys!”

“Ah, yes, my favorite band,” Y/n said, grinning. “Sero and The Guys.”

Kirishima and Hagakure both laughed, and Y/n could swear she even heard Tokoyami chuckle as Kirishima smacked her arm.

“Go check on the new fireplace, you idiot!” He demanded playfully.

“Don’t let anyone touch the pies yet,” Y/n warned. “I’m putting my faith in you, Kiri.”

“A terrible decision, really,” Kirishima stated flatly. “I’ll be the only one touching those pies.”

“Don’t eat them all by yourself!” Hagakure whined. “Wait until later!”

Y/n left the kitchen area to stroll through the common space, stopping only to ruffle Tokoyami’s feathers. She passed Aoyama on her way out of the building, busy admiring some sparkly paper leaves he must’ve bought while he was out with the others.

Y/n made her way outside, trying to ignore the cold, and found the construction team almost finished attaching a chimney to the side of the building. They’d worked on the inside earlier, about the same time she and Kirishima had started all the cooking, but she was still impressed with how quickly they’d been working.

“Wow!” She marveled, alerting them of her presence. “Guys, this is amazing! A communal fireplace for all of us to hang out?! This is gonna be awesome!”

“I know, right?” Sero said proudly. “Imagine all the cool things we can use this for!”

“Please tell me that the fires’ll reflect on one of the walls,” Y/n said excitedly. “If we can’t make shadow puppets, I’m done!”

“...Shadow puppets?” Todoroki repeated curiously. “What are those?”

“You’ve never made shadow puppets?” Sero asked, a little surprised. Todoroki shook his head. “Well, if you’ve got a light in a dark room, you can use your hands to make shapes on the walls.”

“Shoji, I bet you could make a bunch at once, huh? Lucky,” Y/n said.

“I only know how to make dogs and rabbits,” Shoji said. “So it’s not that impressive.”

“Well, you guys be sure to come inside once you’re finished,” Y/n said. “The food’s almost done, they’re about to put up decorations, and we convinced Bakugo to go out and buy us some games.”

“Wow, Bakugo’s helping out?” Sero asked, genuinely shocked. “That’s a surprise. Did you have to threaten him?”

“Something like that,” Y/n said. Sero laughed.

“That’s our girl!” He said proudly. “What’d you say?”

“I just told him he can’t celebrate with us if he doesn’t pitch in,” Y/n said, shrugging. “Honestly, I was surprised he gave in so easily. I guess he actually wants to spend time with us.”

“Maybe he just wants the food,” Shoji said. “He might just be using us.”

“That would be pretty Bakugo of him,” Y/n said, nodding. “You guys are almost done, right?”

“We actually finished about the same time you joined us,” Todoroki said. “Do you need us inside?”

“Not need, per se,” Y/n said. “But you’re certainly welcome. Kirishima’s finishing up some apple-orange cider we made, if you want something warm. Ashido could use some help putting up decorations, if you want to keep working.”

“Thank you,” Todoroki said, nodding thankfully. “I’ve never had… Apple-orange cider?”

“It tastes like autumn!” Y/n said excitedly. “It’s all spiced, and warm, and smells like cinnamon…”

“You’re really selling it there, Y/n,” Sero said, laughing. “It better live up to all that. I’m heading in, you two coming?”

Todoroki nodded, but Shoji shook his head.

“I’m going to make sure this is all sturdy,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the new chimney.

“Hey, Todoroki, you want to start a fire when we get in? Use the fireplace for the first time?” Sero asked. Todoroki nodded slowly.

“Sure,” he said.

“Mmm… Just the sound of all this makes me feel warm and cozy,” Y/n said, laughing.

“It should!” Sero said loudly, the three of them leaving Shoji as they went inside. “Tonight’s gonna be great.”

Y/n held the door open for Sero and Todoroki as they went inside, and she reveled in the warmth.

“I come bearing gifts!” She announced. “Sero and The- Sero and A Guy.”

“Only one?” Kirishima asked, not sparing a glance at them as he continued work in the kitchen. Tokoyami looked up at them from the couch, now sitting between Ashido and Aoyama.

“Is Shoji still outside?” He asked. Y/n nodded.

“Making sure nothing’s about to fall apart on us,” she said.

She watched as Todoroki walked over to the new fireplace, observing it for a few moments.

“Is there any kindling?” He asked.

“We could use all our old test papers!” Ashido joked. Todoroki raised an eyebrow at her.

“Paper burns too fast,” he said. “It doesn’t last.”

“I can text Bakugo and tell him to pick up some firewood on his way back,” Y/n suggested. Todoroki hummed in acknowledgement, so she pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Bakugo.

Bakugo: THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT MORE STUFF I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH FUCKIN MONEY YOU KNOW

“Did he say anything?” Ashido asked. Y/n nodded.

“Complaining,” she said simply, walking over to join Kirishima. “Any updates?”

“Just keepin’ everything warm right now,” he said, smiling. “We don’t want any cold turkey, now, do we?”

“Are the pies okay?” Y/n asked.

“You guys made pie?!” Sero asked excitedly.

“Pumpkin, apple, and cherry,” Y/n confirmed, nodding proudly. “I mean, if Kirishima hasn’t devoured them all.”

“Hey, you said you trusted me!” Kirishima said, pouting.

“Where’d Hagakure go?” Y/n asked, looking around.

“She ran up to her room to put her earmuffs away,” Ashido said. She fell quiet for a moment, looking around the room and creating a frame with her fingers. “We can put some leaves on that window there, and that cornucopia can go on the table.”

Sero walked over and joined Y/n and Kirishima in the kitchen.

“Man, it smells good in here!” He said excitedly. “What’d you guys make?”

“Pie, turkey, stuffing,” Y/n said, listing things off on her fingers. “Cider.”

“Some stuffing and potatoes, cranberry sauce, and Y/n taught me how to make strawberry jam!” Kirishima added. “And a bunch more dessert stuff, and some weird coffee.”

“I can’t wait,” Sero said enthusiastically, grinning.

The front door slammed open.

“I got your shit, you fucks.”

“Hey! Today is about being thankful and kind!” Kirishima scolded. Y/n walked over to Bakugo and grabbed a bundle of firewood from his arms.

She brought it over to the fireplace and let Todoroki help her set it in the fireplace before he set a hand on a log, lighting a fire.

“Mmm, warm!” Hagakure cooed, coming back into the main room. “Oh, Bakugo’s back! What’d you get us?”

“...Cards Against Humanity.”

“Aw, that’s such a Bakugo game!” Y/n said, smiling. “A game where you can be together with the people you refuse to let know you love and say things like ‘I eat ass for a living and my wife is pregnant with a turtle from Russia’.”

“What the fuck goes through your head, L/n?” Bakugo asked, taking the box of cards out of his shopping bag. He walked over to the coffee table in front of the couches and set it down, putting the bag next to it. “I’m done now, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Y/n groaned. “Ashido, you need any more help with the, uh… Sparkly leaves?”

“Nope!” Ashido said happily. “We’re just about finished!”

At the same time, Shoji joined everyone indoors.

“Everything all good out there?” Sero asked. Shoji nodded. “Well, that’s everything done, then, right?��

“Oui! Merci beaucoup, everyone!” Aoyama said excitedly, twirling around in a sparkly trenchcoat- No, not sparkly, magnifique.

“So, then, who’s hungry?” Kirishima asked, leaning closer to the fridge.

“It’s time for a feast, everyone,” Y/n said proudly. “Kiri, let’s get everything to the well-decorated table. Thank you, décor team.”

“You’re very welcome,” Tokoyami said, picking up a fallen paper leaf and looking for the tape on the wall it had left behind.

“Oh, I got it dude,” Sero said, putting his elbows to good use and putting the leaf back.

“Thank you, Sero,” Tokoyami said, nodding gratefully before deciding to push two tables together, making space for everyone.

Y/n and Kirishima took a few minutes to move all the food while Ashido and Hagakure set the table. Once everything was in place and everyone was sitting down, they decided their work was all worth it. The warmth of the fire, the dollar store décor, the smell of the food, and even the sparkles reflecting off of everything Aoyama had insisted on buying.

“I don’t usually do anything fancy before eating,” Y/n said, making sure she spoke before anyone started eating. “But my family has a tradition on Thanksgiving. Before we start, everyone at the table goes around and says what they’re thankful for. I think it’s only right that we do the same thing right now.”

“That sounds fun,” Kirishima agreed. There were a few nods of agreement and acknowledging hums around the table. “Who’s going first?”

“I can do it,” Y/n said, smiling. “I’m grateful for all of you guys, and the rest of the class. Without you, I don’t think hero training would be any fun.”

Kirishima agreed, saying he was thankful for his friends and family. Shoji thanked everyone as well, Ashido and Hagakure thanked the girls of class 1-A, Aoyama thanked his family and France, and Sero thanked family and friends. Tokoyami said he was grateful both to and for Dark Shadow, and Todoroki thanked Midoriya for ‘saving’ him.

“Last is Bakugo,” Kirishima said, enjoying hearing his friends talk about the things and people they love.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo grumbled. “...I guess I’m thankful for you guys or whatever.”

“Aw! Bakugo, that’s so sweet!”

“Shut up and eat your damn food!”

Everyone enjoyed the food, thanking Y/n and Kirishima and asking how on earth they did it. Once everyone had eaten their fill, they moved to the couches, ready to play the card game Bakugo had gotten.

“Wait, one thing first!” Y/n said suddenly. She ran over to a light switch and turned off the lights in the room, leaving only the bright glow of the new fireplace. “Todoroki’s never heard of shadow puppets before.”

“Really?” Kirishima asked. Todoroki nodded and Kirishima just smiled. “Well, awesome! I know so many animals!”

“...Animals?” Todoroki asked slowly. Kirishima nodded excitedly and raised both hands, intertwining them oddly. “What are you doing?”

“Look at the wall,” Y/n explained. Todoroki looked at the wall, seeing the shadows Kirishima’s hands were making. “What do you see?”

“It’s an elephant,” Todoroki stated flatly. He looked at Kirishima, fascinated, and attempted to imitate the hand shape.

Y/n looked at the wall for a minute before making a deer, which prompted Ashido and Shoji to make a wolf and a rabbit. Everyone reveled in Todoroki’s delight until Bakugo got fed up and decided to turn the lights back on.

“Either play the damn cards or give me my twenty bucks back.”

“...I didn’t realize Card Against Humanity was so expensive,” Sero said slowly. “Let’s get to it! I wanna hear all your darkest, dirtiest jokes!”

“I’ll deal,” Tokoyami said.

The box of cards was soon opened, and cards passed out throughout the group.

Tokoyami pulled the first black card as the game was explained to Todoroki and Aoyama.

“Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m ____.”

Being a dick to children - Bakugo

Being sad and horny - Kirishima

Getting fisted by a man with no fingers - Shoji

Slowly releasing a huge fart over the course of two minutes - Aoyama

Floating in a pool of blood - Todoroki

Stapling a butterfly to a cow - Hagakure

Kayaking with my sluts - Ashido

A twink in a bounce house - Sero

Having a bunch of kids by accident - Y/n

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfiction #fanfics #thanksgiving #holidays #katsuki bakugo #shoto todoroki #hanta sero #mina ashido #toru hagakure #mezo shoji #fumikage tokoyami #yuga aoyama #eijiro kirishima #x reader #cards against humanity #shadow puppets

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darlingpetao3 · 4 years

Text

The Conference (Harry Wells x Reader)

Rating: M (Smut)

Summary: As his personal assistant, you accompany Harrison to a Science and Technology conference in Star City. You’re great at your job, though sometimes it can be difficult seeing as you’re attracted to your boss, no matter how much you try to repress your feelings. But when a series of mishaps occur while at the conference, you can’t help but fall harder for Harrison. Does he feel the same way? The world certainly starts to believe so...

A/N: Okay, so this seriously might just be one of my favourite things I’ve done in a long time. I had so much I wanted to do with this story, so it’s ended up with a word count of 5,631. I’m imagining this taking place on Earth-2 before Harry met Team Flash. I really hope you all enjoy this!

Tag List: @blogforhoes

It’s been a few years since Star City has held its world-renowned Science and Technology Association Rendezvous conference (you think someone had to stretch to make the conference coincide with the theme of the city), but that time has returned. In fact, that’s where you’re headed now from the airport - to the hotel where the conference is to be held, luggage in tow.

Your fingers fly across your phone as you handle a few more work emails in the town car you’re sharing with your boss. You try not to look anywhere else because you feel the eyes of Harrison Wells watching you. Yes, working as the world’s-greatest-mind’s personal assistant can be intimidating, but that’s not the reason you’re mentally jittery.

It didn’t necessarily start out this way - having a deadly liability of a crush on the man - but it happened regardless. Spending the amount of time you do with Harrison Wells was bound to show his true nature. Not the front he puts up for his other employees, or the other one he hides behind while speaking to adoring and captivated crowds. You know the real Harrison Wells, even though you’re positive he would deny it until the end of his days.

“You should put that away,” he says eventually, making you look up now. “Enjoy yourself a bit while you’re here.”

“But then I wouldn’t be doing my job,” you counter, “a job you pay me to do.”

“Do you want me to pay you not to do your job?”

Why does this sound vaguely like flirting? You need to not imagine these kinds of things because that road will only lead to getting fired.

You sigh. “Okay, I promise not to work so much this weekend. But if for some reason your schedule gets screwed up, or you aren’t informed on some major deal, it’s not my fault.”

Harrison hums. “Duly noted.”

The car soon pulls up to the lobby doors of the Starling Grand Hotel. The driver helps you both with your luggage and point you in the direction of the front desk. On your short trek into the hotel, there are a series of camera flashes and shouts of “Harrison!” and “Doctor Wells, over here!”

The pair of you keep walking, but the man of the hour gives a polite wave. You think you’d be used to working for a celebrity of technology, but it has never gone away. At least you manage to keep it professional on the outside.

Once at the reception desk, you tell the hotel employee your name to confirm your reservation, only to receive a strange look from the person.

“I’m sorry, we had a system failure the other day, and I must inform you that your reservation has been reduced to one room for the two nights.”

“Excuse me?” you ask, feeling a ferocious fire igniting in your blood. Definitely because Harrison does not deserve to be reduced to anything and not because you’d now be sharing a room with Harrison Wells, supreme crush number one.

“We apologize, truly, but there are no other rooms available at this time, what with the conference happening this weekend.”

Um, DUH, that’s why we’re here!

“But we’ve included a few extra favours on us in your room as a-”

“-I’m sorry, but do you know who this is?” You gesture to your boss behind you, who appears calm, cool, and collected through this whole debacle. “THIS IS HARRISON FREAKING WELLS!” you shout. “He deserves his own freaking room!”

Harrison’s hand finds your shoulder.

“(Y/N), it’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, really.” Harrison takes the room key from the employee, offering her a kind and apologetic smile. “Thank you.”

He guides you away from the desk to the elevators with a hand on your back all the way there. While you’d think an action such as this from your boss would cause a fiery hole to rupture through your entire body, it actually calms you instead. It’s like his touch has extinguished the flame of rage you had felt mere moments ago.

Neither of you utters a word until the elevator doors close. The corner of Harrison’s lip tugs upwards slightly.

“Go on,” you tell him, “say it.”

“You’re very passionate.”

“I just believe a man of your stature should have his own damn hotel room. At the very least.”

“So, it has nothing to do with sharing a hotel room with your direct superior?” he teases. You pull out your phone to scroll on as a distraction.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I never have, nor do I ever plan to be ridiculous.”

The elevator dings once you reach your floor. Harrison motions with a hand to allow you to leave first. You hike up the strap of your bag on your shoulder and head out to find your shared room.

It’ll be fine, it’s fine — All fine.

Alright, 1545, here we are.

You unlock the door with the key card, hearing the click. But as you push the door open, you drop your bag, and subsequently, your jaw.

Not fine, not fine, not fine.

Harrison tries to move past you, but accidentally trips on the handle of your bag and topples over, hitting his stomach to the floor with an “oof”!

He squints ahead.

“Is that… one bed?” he wonders aloud.

“Yup.”

Harrison gets up, immediately looking from the bed to you. He probably senses your unease, but you seriously hope he doesn’t catch on as to why. Sleeping in the same bed as the man you work for and have a huge thing for? You’d fantasized about such a situation before, just not like this and not so abruptly.

“I’ll go talk to the front desk,” he assures you. “If there’s nothing we can do, we’ll go somewhere else.”

“No, you know what?” you say at last. “We’re adults here, right? It will only be a big deal if we make it that way. It’s just sleep.”

Harrison nods slowly, his Adam’s apple bobs. “You make a fair point.”

“Besides, you don’t have much time before your keynote address tonight. It would be best to start getting settled and ready here.”

His smile at your practicality makes your heart flutter.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says. You toss your bag into the chair in the corner.

“I don’t know either, Sir. Dibs on the right side.”

***

It took a little while to figure out who would use the bathroom to get ready first, and of course there were moments of awkwardness. You never knew how ga-ga you would get when you watched Harrison pop out his shirt collar, tie his tie, and straighten his cuffs.

Those small actions shouldn’t make you want to jump him then and there, and yet here you are with these feelings a PA shouldn’t have for their boss.

You decide to wear your slimming black dress for tonight’s keynote address. And no, it’s not because Harrison loves black, you tell yourself. It’s because it’s classy and sophisticated, and you’ll blend right into the background.

When you step out of the bathroom, all ready to face the crowds, Harrison looks up and immediately drops his phone at the sight of you.

“Are you… all set?” you ask him. Harrison retrieves his phone and straightens himself.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am… You look-”

“-And you.”

There’s a beat of more awkwardness. You tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“Right, so, shall we…?” you say.

“Yup, yes, let’s,” he agrees.

You never expected to essentially be Harrison’s bodyguard as well this weekend. Nearly every person you meet along the way to the auditorium wants to talk to him, ask him a question, want a piece of him. Yeah, well, get in line. You quite literally need to hold them back so that he’ll get to the stage on time. It would not look good if this man was late to the kick-off of the whole conference weekend.

But alas, the two of you make it with a few minutes to spare. On stage right, you make sure his suit has no wrinkles, no stains, hair is perfect — all in a day's work.

“My speech…” Harrison mumbles, patting his chest and checking his pockets. “I had it… here? Where…”

He’s so cute when he gets like this, you dare to let the thought flicker in your mind. You whip out the piece of paper and show it to him. The man of the hour exhales in relief.

“What would I-?”

“-Do without me?” You grin, loving whenever he brings this up, and hand him the speech. Your fingers brush momentarily, and you clear your throat instead of the squeak-whine that wanted to come out. What is with me today? “Now go on, get out there and give those people a keynote to remember.”

Harrison lingers a moment before shaking the paper gently in his grasp. His eyes twinkle with thanks before stepping out into the spotlight. You inch as close as you can to the side of the stage and watch behind the curtain. Applause erupts from the auditorium - an ocean of onlookers, cameras, and lights.

And there’s that smile.

It’s times like these that you can selfishly admire Harrison in his element, talking about what brings him the greatest of joys. You’re glad of the suit he chose for this event - a classic midnight-black suit with a crisp white shirt. It’s subtle and powerful and perfectly Harrison.

“Good evening, fellow colleagues,” he greets the room. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Harrison Wells, and it is a great honour to have been asked to speak tonight.”

More cheers.

“Additionally, it is an equally great honour to be in this room with all of you, for each of you have the drive and dreams to create a better future for the world. And with your help, I believe the future will be here faster than you think.”

That’s it.

There’s no denying it.

You really are falling in love with your boss.

***

You and Harrison stand beside one another, shoulder to shoulder in your pyjamas, staring straight down at the damn hotel bed. He wears an aged heather-grey Central City University T-shirt and black sweatpants and it’s almost too much for you. Seeing the man in an expensively tailored suit is one thing, but having to witness Harrison Wells in casual clothing - the kind he sleeps in…

Somebody save me.

You feel utterly self-conscious in your lacy sleepwear, which is all you brought for the trip. It was a recent purchase, of the “treat yourself” variety, and no one was actually supposed to see you in it. Let alone your boss.

Harrison clears his throat. “Should we go to bed? I mean sleep. Should we go to sleep?” His face burns red, undoubtedly at the humiliation of having to sleep in the same direct vicinity as a subordinate. Oh, the horror.

You turn towards the man, but don’t look him in the eye.

“Probably for the best, yeah.”

The two of you pull back the blanket and get under it together, albeit at a “safe” distance from each other.

“Well… goodnight,” Harrison says to you, his face staring straight up at the ceiling.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, also finding the ceiling highly intriguing.

This was going to be a long night.

***

Something feels… different.

It’s like there’s an extra weight on your pillow-?

Holy Lord.

It would seem that Harrison, in his sleep, has moved over to your side of the bed. Your heads now share the same pillow. The smell of purely him overtakes your senses. His breath warms your ear. He is so incredibly close to you right now that you can feel him inhaling and exhaling, his chest rising and falling.

Is that his heartbeat or yours?

You may be going into cardiac arrest.

Ever so carefully, you turn your head the tiniest bit to see him sleeping peacefully like an angel. Your heart races like it never has before in your entire life. It's like it's going to burst out of your chest and run out of the room screaming. And your breathing! You think you seriously do need CPR. Your breaths are horribly uneven and hitched and are impossible to control and your worst fear at this moment is Harrison waking up to find you in this awful and embarrassing state.

How could I ever explain to him that this freak-out is all his fault because he was basically spooning me without even knowing it?

You somehow manage to drift off a little while after your near heart-attack until you later feel something nudge your leg.

Oh for goodness sake, it's his leg.

And how is it possible that your bodies seem even closer? God, I can't run away from my feelings for him if I tried, can I?

So naturally, now your leg decides that it wants to start hurting. It's going numb. Am I sleeping on it weird? You don't know anymore. What is up with your entire body trying to attack and hurt you tonight?

You think that if you move your leg or your body at all right now, Harrison will wake up, see this position you’re both in and distance himself from you. And as much as your love/hate relationship with this closeness is, you don't want him to…

Ultimately, though, you can't handle the numbness in your leg, so you’re going to have to opt-out for a more comfortable sleeping position. You turn insanely slowly on your side, now facing the bathroom and your back to your boss.

Oh shit, he’s stirring.

And then it happens.

His hand finds your hip.

But only for seven glorious seconds.

You feel Harrison freeze and retract his hand. It’s almost as if you can see him through the back of your head - him assessing the situation and pulling back. He moves over - far, far away and back to his side of the bed.

The other side of the universe.

***

After Harrison spent the rest of the night on his side of the bed, you somehow managed to settle down and got your heart rate to return to a relatively normal state.

Presently, you work on your hair near the mirror by the hotel desk. Harrison walks past you. Neither of you has said much to each other this morning. You don’t want to bring up the incident. Clearly, he doesn’t either.

“Sleep well?” he asks.

Ha! I almost died in my sleep!

“Yes, thanks,” you reply instead. “You?”

“Yeah, good.” He clears his throat and shuffles towards the door. His hair is sticking up at all ends and you wish you had something to do with that look, but alas, you had no part in it. He wanders back with the newspaper that had been placed outside the room. He freezes in place.

“What?” you ask, frowning.

He hesitates. “Nothing,” Harrison claims but then throws the paper in the recycling. “I’m going to get ready. Long day today.”

As soon as Harrison grabs his necessities and retreats to the bathroom, you rush over to retrieve the newspaper to see what threw him off. After un-crinkling The Star City Star (honestly, this city…) you read the headline:

Is Central City’s Doctor Harrison Wells Dating His Personal Assistant?

“WHAT?” you whisper-shout. Your eyes scan below at the write-up where the author speculates further on whether you and your boss are secretly dating. There are two photos beside the article, too - black and white, zoomed-in images. The first is the moment when Harrison’s fingers touched yours when you passed him the speech backstage. The way you two are looking at each other… Is that how it really looks? If it weren’t you in this picture, you would believe these two were dating for sure.

The second photo beside the first is zoomed-in on you. Only you. You’re standing at the side of the stage, looking on as Harrison delivers his speech. There’s no visible doctoring of the photo, so you know that’s genuinely how you appeared last night: giving the scientist enormous heart eyes. It’s so plainly evident in your photographed face how you feel about him. And now all of Star City knows.

You pause.

Harrison saw this.

He chucked this newspaper in the bin and retreated without a further word on the matter.

You think you might be sick.

***

It took a little longer than you’d plan to get ready, but seeing as there were two of you, you should have factored that into the schedule. You rush out into the corridor when Harrison says, “You’re a little…”

“What?” you look down at yourself to find your shirt is not fully tucked into your skirt. “Oh, thanks.” Harrison closes the room’s door while you adjust accordingly.

Just a short way down the corridor, you hear whispering. Looking up, you see a woman saying something to a man in a hushed voice. They scurry into the elevator.

That… can’t be good.

Imagine how this looks - catching a woman adjusting herself after stepping out of the same hotel room as Central City’s hottest commodity.

You draw breath to remain calm and push the worry down.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

Harrison is on his phone while he waits for the panel to start, but after not even a minute, he quickly puts it away. He then holds out his hand to you. “Hand me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I’m making sure you don’t work too much while you’re here. Take it all in and what have you.”

You sigh, half-wondering why he’s brought you along if you’re not meant to be doing your job. Oh well. Maybe it'll be fun without your phone?

“Boss’ orders,” you concede. Relinquishing your phone to Harrison brings a smile to his face. Eventually, you leave him to speak amongst the rest of the panel and stand at the back of the room. This is much farther away from the cameras and journalists, who are trying to move as close as they can to the table to capture the perfect shots of Harrison and his fellow innovators on this panel.

Wells, McGee, Stein, Palmer, Smoak, and Brand.

Needless to say, the room was packed.

Afterwards, you usher Harrison out the side exit of the room instead of the main entryway. It was blocked up with conference-goers. There would be no way out otherwise.

Lunch is next on the schedule, thank God. You barely had anything to eat after leaving the hotel room, so you are ready to stuff your face.

Daintily, obviously. You save the savage-eating for the comfort of your own home.

The conference coordinators hired the best catering service, in your opinion. You would literally lick your plate if you were not continuously stared at for being in the constant presence of Harrison Wells. During the lunch hour, several people had come up to the man himself, whether they be fans, old colleagues, or people searching for funding, just for a moment of his time and attention. And while this happens quite a lot generally, for some reason it irks you today.

Why can’t they just leave him alone?

And then- why can’t I just have him to myself?

You quickly bury that thought away.

As the time gets closer to Harrison’s scheduled board meeting, you have to figuratively fight off the hoards of people to get him there on time, not without a series of frowns and scowls from them. Screw them. I’ve got a job to do.

Harrison graciously thanks everyone in passing and mentions how he hopes to hear from them again. When you finally reach the designated meeting room, you stop and say to him, “I can’t help but feel I’m the Bad Cop and you’re the Good Cop, here.”

“Someone has to be.” He laughs a little, and you find it contagious. You meet his eyes for a brief moment, but break the contact, letting your eyes fall to his chest.

“Oh dear.” You reach into your bag.

“What is it?” he asks. You show him your handy-dandy detergent-to-go stick.

“You have a little…” Instantly, you begin to dab and swirl the applicator to the small stain on his white shirt around his right pectoral area. Your free hand rests flat against his left. He’s so fit underneath these clothes, though you’ve never actually seen proof of it. Not even after sharing that room last night.

The entire time, Harrison watches you - watches your hand make the mark vanish from the fabric. He is silent, save for his breathing, which you can also feel as his chest moves up and down under your hands.

“There,” you say weakly.

“Thank you,” he replies quietly.

You’re still touching him, and once you register this, you take your hands off of him like you’ve been burned.

“Have a good meeting. I’ll meet you back here when it’s over.”

“Thank you, great, yes.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

You take your leave, daring not to look back, no matter how much you want to. It isn’t until you make it into the lobby that you realize your boss still has your phone in his pocket.

Welp.

***

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you apologize breathlessly while running towards Harrison in your bare feet with your heels in your hand.

He stands outside the meeting room doors. His eyes are wide and round upon seeing you, and that may be a smile tugging at his lips, but it’s hard to tell at the speed you’re rushing.

“I lost track of time, and you still have my-”

He shows your phone to you.

“Yeah, that.”

After a short moment of catching your breath, you slip on your first heel, but the second proves more difficult in your tiredness. You just about fall over.

“Here, let me help,” he offers—what a gentleman. You balance on your one heeled shoe, with assistance from his wonderful, wonderful arms as you slip on your other one. You think his arm flexes when you clutch onto it.

“Whoa,” he says as you wobble a bit, but he has you.

And boy, does he have you.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod, not trusting your words. “We better head back to the room if we want to get ready for the banquet.”

He hands you your phone.

“Then, by all means, (Y/N), lead the way.”

***

You seriously need to stop thinking about how he said your name.

It was like a near-whisper. Like a secret. A secret you could try to decipher for hours, months, years, and never learn the true meaning because that was the enigma that is Harrison Wells.

Once back in the hotel room, you pull out your phone, at last, to catch up on what you’ve missed today.

Emails regarding in-development contracts.

Requests for funding.

Meetings to coordinate with Harrison’s schedule.

Junk, spam, email forwards, more junk.

And…

What.

The.

Actual.

F-

You make a noise similar to one you might make if you were drowning. In your inbox are a series of emails featuring various blog posts sent from familiar names within the company. All of these posts have one thing in common.

The speculative nature of whether you and Harrison Wells are an item.

Candid photos, inside scoop, rumours and catty gossip, there’s so much of it!

Pictures of you and him at lunch, you removing his stain, even him helping you in your heels not that long ago! What the hell? Who are these super spies?

There’s even an adamant blog poster insisting you’re sleeping with him because she claimed to have caught the two of you leaving the same hotel room and fixing your…

Oh God. This is bad.

Harrison turns around to you, now noticing that you’ve been incredibly silent and haven’t moved from your spot. His tie is significantly loosened, and it is not helping.

“Is something wrong? Is it the company?” he asks you. “Did someone blow up another prototype of the-”

You shove your phone in his face and look away. This cannot be happening. You just want to disintegrate out of humiliation.

“Well, then…” is all he has to say. He loosens his tie a bit more. “This is…”

“This is ludicrous, that’s what it is!” You start to feel the sheer indignation rise within you, for the both of you. “I’ll have every one of them all take these posts down, I promise. I am so sorry this is happening. People apparently have nothing better to do with their lives.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N), you know it’s not your fault,” Harrison says, calmer than you’d ever have expected.

“I know, but it’s just still so wrong, all these lies.”

There’s a pause.

“...What if it were true?” he asks.

“What?”

“What if it were true?” he repeats, shifting in place and massaging the back of his neck. “You and I? Would that be something you’d be interested in? With me?”

He did not just ask that.

Did he?

“I- I mean, we can’t,” you fumble for what to say. “Even if I wanted to- if we wanted… I work for you.”

Harrison takes an unexpected large step forward. “Forget that for a second. Have you ever wanted this? Do you currently want this?” He gestures between you both. You swallow hard, bracing yourself.

“I do, yes,” you confess. Harrison smiles and moves yet another step closer. “But it’s not professional. You, Harrison Wells, cannot date your personal assistant, no matter how much I...”

Oxygen has stopped circulating to your lungs. Time is suspended. The man looms over you, biting his lip to keep from smiling too much.

“Then you’re fired,” he says, only before taking your cheek in his hand and pressing his soft and smooth lips your yours.

Angels sing in a chorus, you’re convinced.

Harrison pulls away to examine your reaction, carefully taking in your fluttering lashes and still-puckered lips.

“You’re rehired,” he tells you, seriously.

You barely get the words “I quit” out before you’ve attacked his mouth again, officially throwing care to the wind. You’re desperate to feel those lips again, they’re like your dreams, repressed or otherwise, come true. His hands grip your waist to hold you close to him, while your own lock around his neck.

Now it’s you who pulls back.

“Can I have my job back?”

“Not yet.”

Harrison spins you ninety degrees and presses you against the wall. A gasp leaves your throat, followed by a profoundly pleased noise of pleasure. Harrison’s hands wander from their caress of your cheeks, down your sides, brushing against your breasts as they do. His mouth does some wandering of its own - venturing down to the side of your neck.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening…” you say breathlessly to the spackled ceiling, feeling each nip of his lips on your burning skin. Every part of your body is on fire. Your lips, your limbs, your blood.

At your words, Harrison stops and searches your eyes.

“I need you to be clear with me if you want this to continue,” he says, “if not-”

“-Please, please, for the love of God, Harrison, continue.”

Impatience and desperate heat take hold of your actions. You start to undo the buttons on his shirt. When he slips it down his arms, you swallow the gasp that almost squeaked past your lips.

His. Arms.

You’ve never seen your boss’ arms like this - completely bare and muscular and perfectly toned. These arms held you up earlier, and now you can’t help but imagine them holding you in the throes of passion.

And you may find this out very soon...

With one swift movement, Harrison has his undershirt off in no time at all and it’s kind of a miracle you haven’t collapsed to the ground. Is your mouth open? Probably. He hides that body under those suits? What a shame to keep it hidden… but then again, you’re glad. You get to see it now. Just you.

Your fingers trace the lines of his stomach muscles, captivated. You follow the lines down until they disappear under his black slacks.

But he interrupts your tracings when he starts to take off your shirt. This time, you’re ecstatic at it being untucked from your skirt. You shimmy out of that too. All these clothes are starting to become a real pain. A nuisance. A hindrance.

You’re now concerned with his black trousers still on him, belt and all. Your fingers automatically show him their keen interest and begin to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal clanging is music to your ears. You exhale shakily at the sight of him growing more erect before your very eyes.

You can’t help but chuckle, “We’re going to be late for the banquet dinner.”

Harrison stares at you with lust-filled, black eyes, staring you down in your bra and panties.

“Fuck the banquet dinner.”

He leads you towards the bed - the bed that had initially been your enemy. Now it’s your friend. The scientist lowers you down to your back, all the while crawling with you back up towards the pillows. Harrison hovers over you, scanning every part of you, downloading every curve and dip and line of your body. He plants a kiss to your stomach.

“So beautiful,” he breathes, working his way up with his lips, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too,” you squeak. “But there’s just one thing…”

Harrison lifts his head from the valley of your breasts and raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

It takes a second for him to understand.

The corners of his lips curl up when he does, and snakes back down your body, peppering kisses all the way.

“I’ve dreamt about this, you know,” you divulge, suddenly realizing that someone having witchcraft in their lips is a real concept. These special people make you spill your secrets.

“Is that so?”

Harrison’s slender fingers slowly pull your panties down your legs and discard them to the floor. You nod vigorously the closer his face moves forward to your wet heat. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You swallow.

“What a coincidence,” he says, “I’ve imagined this in my head about a hundred times.”

His breath on you has you in a hot sweat.

“Only a hundred?” you hear yourself say. Harrison responds by licking a stripe upwards. Your legs tense and you let your head hit the pillow. He grips your hips and pulls you closer to his mouth. It’s wild - the same mouth that is so eloquent in delivering speeches to hundreds of people is equally talented in what it’s doing to you right now.

Kisses, licks, swirls, and dives.

You are utterly at this man’s mercy.

You always have been.

“More,” you tell him, as a general plea. Just more of everything. All of it. “More. Don’t stop.”

He hums his reply, face buried deep.

It’s encroaching quickly on you - your climax. Your hand finds his hair, soft and silky and now perfectly ruined by your desperate fingers. Simultaneously, you grind your hips up to his mouth and hold his head to you. He’s devouring you until there will be absolutely nothing left of you.

You hit your peak, and you’re falling. Falling hard.

In a couple different ways.

***

It’s the middle of the night, or rather the early-early morning. After a night of much lovemaking, you lay there in bed, pressed against Harrison with your hand on his chest, which has only just returned to its regular rise and fall. You trace random lines on his skin. He holds you with a sort of protectiveness. You never want him to let go.

“A bit too late for that dinner, huh?” you say.

Harrison’s laugh vibrates through you and sends a shiver down your spine. Those good kinds of shivers. “We could order something,” he suggests.

“It’s three in the morning.”

“It’ll be no problem,” he assures you.

“Actually, there is a problem,” you mention.

“Which would be…?”

“I don’t ever want to move.” This moment is just so perfect that either one of you moving feels as if it would shatter it. “I don’t think I can, anyway,” you add playfully. That earns you another laugh. Harrison takes your hand in his to rest on his stomach.

“So… I’m just wondering. What does this mean for us now?” you dare to ask the big, mountainous question. “I can’t work for you if this is going to continue, you know.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “Which is quite terrible, really, because you are the best assistant I’ve ever had.” It’s your turn to giggle. “I’m sorry,” Harrison continues. You look at him straight on.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re now out of a job and I’m to blame.”

“Trust me, it’s not just you. It takes two to do the horizontal tango. And besides, I couldn’t be an assistant for the rest of my life anyway. No matter how perfectly amazing my boss is. I’ll find something else. Something I love to do.”

“That’s what I love about you-” he stops dead in his sentence. His hand tenses around yours at his confession. You can’t believe his words.

“Did you really just…?” you ask, needing to know for sure if you did hear that word correctly.

“I apologize, (Y/N), I know it’s probably-” You stop Harrison from his unnecessary apology with a deep kiss and crawl on top of him to straddle him. His hand runs up your back and down again. “Firing you was the best thing I ever did,” he sighs.

“And quitting was mine.”

A/N2: I have to disclose that the ‘you’re hired/rehired etc’ moment is actually taken from my favourite Ed episode (S03E17 “Captain Lucidity”). I just felt like it was so incredibly perfect (both in general and for this story) and I swoon every time at that scene. But yes, I did take a page straight out of Rob Burnett and Jon Beckerman’s book with that one. Those damn geniuses.

Anon Request: Hi i think I can still request so.. Harry and reader(his PA/ a scientist at star labs) go to a science conference thing out of town. they have to spend the night at the same hotel room ( maybe busy days so rooms are already occupied or something). Things get.. spicy between them. Both ends up in a relationship(optinal). Smut! AND I LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

#reader insert #anon request #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #harry wells smut #earth 2 harrison wells x reader #earth 2 harrison wells imagine #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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lifebeginsbyleaving · 4 years

Text

It’s Snow Not My Fault

I would like to start this off by saying this was supposed to be absolute crack... But blame @halevetica for encouraging my brain to make some semblance of sense when this is all utter madness. Almost 6k words. This is for @sterek-bingo

In hindsight they wouldn't have messed with magic they didn't understand, in two hours ago sight how cool would a talking snowman be?!?!

************************************************

Derek should've known better.

Correction, Stiles should've known better, but Derek should've known better that Stiles wouldn't know better.

They all should've known better.

They should've known better than to leave a bored Stiles with hundred year old mystic books and a best friend that doubles as a guinea pig, who replies, 'Sure man. If you think so.' to things. Stiles should've known better than to try a spell unsupervised. Scott should've known better than to sit still while Stiles chanted around him. Derek should've known a ten minute run for food was too long to leave them in his loft.

And Stiles should also damn sure know not to stand there melting on his hardwood floors.

If he could go back to a moment in particular, it wouldn't be when he left them. It wouldn't be when he left out the mystical texts. It wouldn't even be when he dropped his keys in shock.

It would be the moment he went to open the door. He would go back and just decide, nope I'm going to live a normal life. He would walk right out of the building and drive till he didn't even know where Beacon hills was, what was happening, or what the hell a Stiles was.

But alas, he could not. He was stuck. Stuck to live the life of having to open that cursed door.

The one that he could smell the stink of magic wafting under.

He hesitantly unlocked and opened the door.

He was greeted by eerie silence.

"Stiles? Scott?"

There was a loud, "Thud, thud!" A dull thumping like something large bounding closer.

He heard a shriek from the opposite side and no matter how much he didn't want to look away from the possible threat the yell pulled his attention.

A lightning flash of a small body running at top speed caught his eye. A kid with curly dark hair shot past the door. He was waving his arms around wildly with way too long sleeves flapping behind him.

Derek hadn't even noticed the thumping stopped near him, too absorbed in the shock of the child. He darted in front of the doorway and as he ran past something caught Derek's eye.

There was a large snowman in front of the door, one that hadn't been there before.

In an instant it's stick arms were flailing in a way that seemed to want to convey for him to stay calm. "Derek, don't freak out."

That voice came from that snowman. That snowman was talking. The snowman knew his name. The talking snowman knew his name and was talking to him.

Just then he felt an impact on his leg and something wrapping around it. On instinct he almost kicked it away, but he was glad he didn't. Looking down was the small child no more than four. His little teary eyes were looking up at Derek.

"Please save me from the scary snowman!"

Derek's mouth gaped as he looked at the kid. His tears stared to flow and they fell on a red and white striped shirt with grey sleeves. Wasn't that Scott's shirt? Wait- was that Scott?!

"Oh sure! Of course you like him! Totally not cool bro!"

Derek looked at where the snowman was crossing his twigs.

Oh fuck.

"Stiles?!" He dropped his keys in shock. "What the hell!?"

"I said don't freak out, sourwolf!"

Yup, that was definitely Stiles. He listened to the rest of the loft to try and hear a witch or intruding presence. After a quick scan of the room he saw candles, herbs, and open books that he definitely told him not to touch.

Derek tried to gather strength. "What happened, exactly?"

Stiles took a deep breath and if it wasn't currently covered in frost Derek knew the exact face he would be making. "It wasn't my fault! I was just looking in the book and it seemed cool so I showed Scott and he agreed, okay! So I was like, how cool would an Olaf be?" He stayed solidly rooted in place, but Derek could tell if he could, he would've been pacing. He was getting more and more upset and loud as he kept talking. "The spell seemed harmless! It said something about using childlike glee to make a snowman come alive and taking a chill from his heart. And now Scott is five years old!..." He flung his twigs out towards Scott, and then back towards himself. "And I'm a snowman!" The last sentence was said hysterically.

Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are either of you hurt?"

Stiles took a deep breath to calm down. "Other than Scott screaming bloody murder when I get close? No, we're both fine."

Derek's voice was flat. "That's so great. It would've been a shame if your coal pieces would've fallen off."

The coal pieces in question made a wide O. "Rude Derek."

"I'm not the one melting all over someone else's hardwood floors." He gave a pointed look down at the puddle rapidly growing around him.

"Well sooorry." Once again he crossed his twigs indignation.

Derek let out another sigh as he leaned down to pick up his keys. It was difficult with the many grocery bags and weeping child attached to his leg. "Stiles, go sit Scott in the living room. I've got to put away the ice cream."

Stiles' twigs flung out wide. "Derek! I'm a fucking snowman! And you're worried about the freakin ice cream melting?!"

Derek leveled him with a flat look. "Stiles, you do this sort of shit too often for me to drop everything."

Derek tried to make his way to the kitchen, but the small body just clung to him more. "I need you to let go bud."

Scott's teary eyes burrowed into his pant leg and he shook his head. "I don't like him!"

"Come on, I'm your best friend! I'm Stiles!"

Scott looked over at him and shook his head again. "You're not Stiles! Stiles has face dots. And hands!"

Derek's face softened slightly. "Alright. You can come with me." He shifted all the grocery bags over to one hand and leaned down. "Is it okay if I pick you up?"

Scott immediately wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. Derek walked into the kitchen as he heard a sulking Stiles bound away.

He set the bags on the counter. "Is it okay if I set you down?" The mop of hair shook adamantly against his neck as his little arms tightened. "Okay." He settled him more against his hip.

Well, Derek supposed he was a babysitter now.

He held onto Scott with one arm and grabbed his phone with the other.

"Derek I swear to God I've got t-" Lydia's voice sounded annoyed.

"Stiles is a snowman and Scott is a half naked five year old." Derek figured it was just best to just rip the band-aid off.

"I'm four!" Scott protested and shoved three fingers in Derek's face as he wiggled.

There was a pause.

"When you say snowma-"

"I mean carrot nose and a beanie instead of a top hat, the whole nine yards."

Another pause and a sigh.

"I'll be there in ten. And I'll pick Scott up some clothes."

When Lydia got there she was greeted by the sight of Derek giving a small child a high-five and a literal snowman trying to change the channel with stick thumbs.

"Good job buddy! We're all done."

She hung her purse on a hook by the door. "How is this my life?"

Derek turned to her. "You aren't the one having to wrangle a four year old and a petulant snowman that's melting on your hardwo-"

A raised voice came from the other room. "Hardwood floors! Yes, we know! You've said it multiple times!"

Lydia went to look and there was a lake around Stiles.

"How-why- What- Okay nevermind, just deep breaths." She sharply inhaled and exhaled. She proceeded overly calm. "Stiles, tell me exactly what you've done."

The snowman turned to her and she would never be able to get that image out of her head. He turned to Derek. "You called Lydia? I mean no offense to a goddess, but isn't this more Deaton's area of expertise? I mean she's better at translation, but her casting isn't better than mine."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't think the snowman should be casting any coal pieces, especially to someone who left mid mani-pedi and could break your arms like twigs. Literally."

"Deaton is out of town you snowball."

"Plow a man while he's down why don't ya."

"Can we focus!" Lydia huffed as she strode into the room. "What book did you use?"

Stiles' twigs aligned with a thick open book. "That one."

She tossed her hair up into a bun as she walked over to it. She looked at the cover. "I can't even read half of this Stiles. How do you know what it says?"

The snowman looked shifty. He fiddled with his beanie. "Right. Yeah, so neither do I?" He said it bracing for backlash.

Scott paused sorting his fruit snacks that thankfully Erica insisted upon the loft having. He tugged on Derek's shirt and loudly whispered, "Who is that lady?"

Derek equally as loud and obviously whispered back, "She's a lady that knows everything and is scary unless she likes you."

"Does she like me?" Scott looked at her curiously and with caution. He sent her a small goofy smile and wave.

Derek tilted his head at Lydia.

Her face softened. "Yes I do. You're one of my very best friends."

Scott's grin went wide and crooked. "Do you want fruit snacks?"

She smiled at him. "No, thank you."

He nodded his head then turned back to Derek. "Why is she here? Is she here to kill the bad snowman?"

Stiles scoffed.

"She's here because she's the smartest and can figure out how to undo mistakes of two stupid people."

Derek had already determined from talking to him in the kitchen, that Scott wouldn't know he was insulting him because he didn't remember anything. He only knew he was four years old, his bestest friend was Stiles, and the scary snowman was most certainly not Stiles. Derek could smell instantly that he wasn't a wolf anymore, he was simply four years old again. No trace of the grown up Scott.

Scott shook his head. "There's no way she's the smartest. Stiles is the smartest. She's really really smarter maybe. She's not smarter than Stiles. Stiles is the best." His goofy grin was replaced by a sad look. "Can I see him?"

Stiles shuffled slightly forward. "I am Stiles buddy." The look on his face was the most hopeful look Derek had ever seen on a snowman.

Scott narrowed his eyes. "No you're not!"

"Yeah I am. We used to hide under your bed to eat peanut butter cookie sandwiches. We would take peanut butter cookies and slather peanut butter on one side and jam on the other." While he was speaking he used his stick arms to mime making the sandwiches. "Your mom would always yell for us because we would make a mess in the kitchen, but she pretended she couldn't find us."

Scott's face twisted into anger. "No! She doesn't ever know where we are. She doesn't find us! The real Stiles knows that! You're fake! I want to see my best friend! I want my mom! I want my dad!" Tears started streaming from his red face.

"It's okay Scotty!" Stiles started heavily bounding towards him.

Scott let out a screech and turned to Derek. He scrambled and pulled against his clothing like a monkey trying to climb vines. He made it halfway up before Derek scooped him the rest of the way into his arms. Scott buried his head into his neck and started to cry.

"Stiles. Maybe you shoul-"

Derek wondered if he had started to melt faster with how much he was slumped down.

"Yeah I know. Why don't you take him to the living room and find Balto in my movie case. It's his favorite."

Derek gave him a flat look.

"Don't give me that. We both loved that movie long before your furry butt showed up. And I think I've done a very good job of not mentioning it before now."

Derek simply raised an eyebrow before turning to go make popcorn.

Stiles hollered after him. "There's a bag of puffcorn in the top cabinet!"

Derek yelled back. "He's four not an infant! He can have regular popcorn!"

"If he chokes, I'm telling Melissa this was all your fault!"

Derek didn't reply.

"If you two children are done arguing maybe we can fix the actual child and the ever growing puddle soaking my shoes." Lydia's cold voice masked her concern.

They busied themselves with the books as Derek changed Scott then got them settled in to watch the movie.

Scott snuggled into Derek's side and giggled through the start of the movie.

He pulled the blanket around Scott as he looked down at him. He looked so small, he looked fragile. In a way Scott always looked like that, but this was mixed with an innocence.

He caught the sound of Stiles' voice and he wondered if he ever looked like this. It was hard to imagine, he almost couldn't. As childish and young he could act, Derek had never known Stiles to have a childlike innocence. But then he thought of the two of them under Scott's bed hiding from Melissa and he could almost see the shine of his big brown eyes. For an instant he wondered why that look was so completely gone and so soon, but then he remembered.

His mother. Stiles had lost his mother at such a young age and ever since, he carried it with him. He supposed Stiles was a lot like himself, trading innocence for carrying the people lost to them with themselves out of guilt.

He wished he'd known Stiles then, he wished he could've protected him. Just gathered him in his arms and let him cry until he felt better. He also wished Stiles had found him. After Paige, after the fire. Wished they'd been closer for after Laura. But then he was also grateful he was there for after Boyd.

Looking down at Scott made him feel so many things. He was so small, and he needed to be protected. He needed to be saved, brought back to who he was. But looking down at his small face he looked so angelic, so perfect.

He reminded Derek of his little brother. He used to watch cartoons on the couch with him every weekend. Derek tightened his arm around him as he thought of a house filled with kids. He cleared his throat as the memories he had buried long ago resurfaced. He never let himself feel how much he missed having younger siblings and kids around. How much he missed watching movies and pretending to not see hiding places. He felt a hurt in his gut thinking that as soon as Scott was back to normal he'd never see innocent little eyes look at him again like he could protect them from the entire world.

He was hit with a wave of longing. Not just for the family he lost, but for one he'd never have.

He was pulled out of his head by the distress wafting over from the table. "What's wrong?"

Stiles' voice came immediately. "Nothing. Just watch the movie sourwolf."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. He gently moved over Scott and gave him a reassuring look when he looked alarmed. "I'll be back." He brushed his curls away and kissed his forehead.

Derek walked over to a tense Stiles and a worried Lydia. "And how come, nothing, with you is always someone is about to die?"

Lydia winced.

Derek's face went hard and he spoke very controlled. "Stiles. Is someone about to die?"

"Technically we don't know if it's about to, we just know it's soon."

It was very hard to take that news seriously when it was literally from a snowman, but seeing the growing puddle made it sink in a bit.

He looked to Lydia. "If he melts will he die?"

She grimaced and picked up the book. "Ice will freeze the spirit and magic in place. But, if the snow flakes guarding the heart melt, the soul will slip away."

Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How do we get him back to normal?"

She looked at the book once again, but frustrated this time. "We're still trying to figure that out. The translation is a difficult one, not only is it in a different language it has a double coded cipher. It will take hours to figure out. And I don't even know if the spell will tell us how to fix both of them. I turned up the air conditioner as high as I could but..."

They both looked to where Stiles' body looked ready to melt in half.

"Can't we just stick part of him in the freezer? Preferably his head?"

"Hey! And no. If this is like any of the Nordic magic I've studied, any part that is melted or taken away just turns to regular water. It would have to be my entire body. Right now I wouldn't fit, but if it gets down to it-"

"If it gets down to it you could die! We don't know how melted you have to become before it's too late!" Derek yelled.

Stiles laughed and replied. "Believe me, out of all the ways I thought I'd go out, a snowman was not even in the top one hundred."

Derek's eyebrows pinched. "Will you, for the love of God, take this seriously! You could die! If it gets to the point-"

Lydia looked determined. "We won't let it get that far. You have to have an idea. You always have an idea! Think Stilinski!"

He huffed out a chilled breath and hopped over towards the book. "This spell might work, but I haven't finished the translation of the description. All I can get is that if you focus on something it will cause it to be filled with snow, ice, and winter air. But that's not for sure, and I can't cast like this. I tried to use a spell before to catch Scott and nothing happened." He looked over at Lydia unsure. "Also your casting-"

"Will have to be enough." Just like that, she began the spell, not that they would've been able to change her mind.

She spoke the last word and she lowered her arms that were pointed at Stiles.

Nothing happened.

"Well that's unfort-"

"Whap!" In an instant the entire loft was covered in three feet of snow.

Stiles looked at Lydia who's arms tensed in shock. On her bun sat a tiny pile of snow an her shoulders were covered too. He looked over to Derek and started laughing hysterically. There was a pile of snow on his head and shoulders too, but there was also snowflakes in his eyebrows and lashes. He had the most menacing look on his face as he looked at the room covered in snow.

"Dereeeek!"

By the time Derek had scooped up an equally frozen Scott, went upstairs with him and Lydia, and trudged back through the snow with all three of them wrapped in multiple layers of Derek's clothing Stiles still hadn't stopped laughing.

Derek huffed. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Guess who's going with me to pick out all new furniture jackass."

"That's a bad word Derek! You have to call him a poopybutt."

The snowman grinned at him. "Yeah Derek, you have to call me a poopybutt."

"You better be careful before I kick your snowballs."

Stiles smiled. "Oh I'm really pissing myself over that insult."

Derek turned to Scott. "You know not to eat the yellow snow right?"

Scott only cocked his head in confusion, but Lydia and Stiles burst out with laughter.

"Oh shut up." Stiles took a chunk from his middle and hurled it at Derek and Scott. Derek turned his back to shield Scott, but the snowball burst on his back and part of it hit the back of his neck.

He turned back with a dangerous glint. "Oh you're on Frosty."

Scott quickly brightened and shrieked, "Snowball fight!"

It was chaos within seconds.

Derek had flipped the coffee table on it's side for cover and Lydia hid behind Stiles.

She initially didn't want to be involved, but Derek nailed her right in the side of her face. The snow melted and smudged her make-up. It was war.

What Scott lacked in aim he made up for in enthusiasm, he was throwing snowballs as fast as Derek could make them. Lydia had a deadly accuracy, but she was slower.

Scott was starting to tire, then it was quiet for a moment. He looked over and they were fighting.

"Lydia just let me!"

"No! You're my only cover!"

Stiles was trying to bend over to make his own snowball and Lydia was trying to pull him back up to stay hidden.

"I want to throw one!"

"I'll make you one!"

"No I want t- ahhhh!" Stiles' top two balls fell into the snow and separated. "Oh my god! I'm in half! I'm two halves! Am I dead?" His twigs started feeling the ground and his body. "No I'm not. I'm fine!" Stiles started to let out a relieved laugh and Lydia joined in.

Derek looked over to Scott who was pointing and laughing. Seeing the clear joy he too joined in.

"You guys. I am stuck though."

They laughed harder.

"No really, I can't get up."

More laughter.

"Help me! Please?"

Derek wiped away tears as Lydia tried to speak through her laughter.

"You're- you're too heavy. I- I can't lift you."

They spent a few moments calming down.

"Derek? Scott? How about a truce? Just until I get back on my feet, literally. Well actually, I don't have feet right now."

Derek turned to Scott and even though there was some apprehension, Scott gave a nod.

They abandoned their post and trudged over enemy lines.

Stiles was surprisingly heavy. When Derek let out a grunt of effort Stiles smacked him and Scott even tried to help.

Derek should've expected it, but he didn't.

As soon as they stood him up Stiles tackled him and Lydia began pelting him with a stockpile.

"Hey! You guys broke the truce!" Scott whined.

Stiles spoke as he shoved snow in Derek's face. "It was only till I got up!"

The look of disapproval faded.

"You should help us! All of us against Derek!"

Lydia nodded. "He's going to lose. You should be on our team! We have a snowman!"

Derek started to thrash. "No! Scott would never! He's my buddy!" He dramatically lifted an arm towards him.

Scott looked considering till he threw himself next to Derek.

"Ha see Stiles! Scott wou-"

Mid sentence Scott stuffed a snowball in his mouth.

Stiles lifted his twigs up. "Woo whoop! Ultimate victory against Derek!"

"Ahhhh no! I have been defeated!"

Scott giggled and Stiles and Lydia smiled at him.

"No laughing at me you traitor!" In one quick movement he swept them all into his arms and pulled them on top of him. "Snowpile!"

They all burst out laughing.

It was warmer with all of them laying on the snow together.

Lydia adjusted the ill fitting hat she borrowed as she spoke. "We should make snow angels."

Scott nodded and got off Derek by sticking a boney elbow in his ribs.

They all made a snow angel except Stiles, who's angel looked like a snowman angel hybrid.

Once he was done with his Scott jumped on Derek.

"Oof! You're heavy!"

Stiles looked over at them with a smile that quickly turned to concern. "And he looks cold."

Stiles' twigy fingers pinched his red nose lightly. Scott crossed his eyes to look at them.

Stiles looked at everyone. "You know what is the opposite of cold snowy days?"

He continued, "Hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate!" Scott said at the same time.

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. They high fived each other.

Derek and Lydia looked at each other confused.

That made them laugh harder.

After one particular giggle from Scott he and Stiles both began to glow.

Stiles looked down at his sticks and Scott looked at his hands.

Scott looked afraid. "Stiles! What's happening?"

He was torn between being happy Scott finally believed it was him and terrified for what this glow meant. He didn't get long to freak out.

Simultaneously, Scott rapidly grew older in front of them, and Stiles suddenly felt very cold. Very cold.

"What the hell just happened?" Scott seemed more confused than anything. "Stiles? Why am I naked on Derek's lap surrounded by snow?"

Derek turned to Stiles with a raised smug eyebrow.

"Why do you assume I know! You're on Derek's lap, not mine!"

Scott nodded. "Yes, but you're naked too. And normally if I got into something, it's because of you."

Stiles squinted. "Not fair!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, for him."

Stiles pouted.

Derek spoke up. "What made you guys go back to normal?"

Lydia seemed to consider it for a moment while muttering. "Oh! Childlike glee! We got it backwards. It gave Scott a chill in his heart towards you and you had to cause him glee to get back to normal! This wasn't a spell to make a snowman, it was a curse! Huh, clever. Well I am going home to take an extremely hot shower."

She got up to go gather her things.

"Yes, please! I need to warm up."

Scott held his arm. "Wait! I still need to know what happened?"

Stiles whined, "Scott, just because you have a nice and toasty werewolf seat doesn't mean we all do. Come on man I'm freezing my dick off here!"

Scott smirked. "Are you jealous of my super warm werewolf seat? Maybe if you asked nicely Derek would help you with your freezing di-"

Derek dropped his bare ass onto the snow.

"Cold man! Real cold!"

Lydia strode over to Derek and planted a kiss on his cheek. "A pleasure as always Derek. Next time though, if you leave the big boy books out for your kids I'm not picking up. Goodbye boys." With a wave over her shoulder she was gone.

"Rude!" Stiles yelled after her. "Any way I'm going to go upstairs to shower." He tried to get up with as much dignity as he could. "Please remember that it is cold."

Scott shouted after him. "You have nothing to apologize for bro! Your dick is perfect!"

Stiles cackled as he heard Derek's noise of disapproval at their lack of decency.

After his boiling shower he felt so much better, but he didn't want to ever have to look at snow again, much less deal with an entire room of it.

He went down the snow covered stairs in the thickest pair of socks he could find in Derek's drawers. He sighed knowing he would have to change them.

"Did Scott leave?"

Derek had shed a few layers and Stiles wondered if he only put them on for little Scott's benefit.

"Yeah. He said he had to talk to Allison."

Stiles nodded. "I assume he told you to tell me goodbye."

Derek considered lying, but he figured Stiles knew the answer.

Derek decided to change the subject. "I never knew he was that cute."

Stiles grinned. "You should've seen me. We could get away with anything. We were such horrible children." Stiles started to laugh. "My dad used to say he hoped I had the antichrist as a child because it would be an angel in comparison to me."

Derek looked away as he spoke. "Is that something you want?"

"The antichrist? No, I'd rather not. But kids, a couple rugrats? Yeah, I want a few and maybe more. I always wondered what it would be like to have a bursting house. I always said I'd foster though. There are already so many kids that need love right? Why not take care of them first. What about you?"

Derek shrugged. "It's not really in the cards for me."

Stiles nodded. "Not everyone wants them. That's fine."

Derek decided to let him think what he wanted. He was wondering about something else though. "Why did you do that spell?"

Stiles rolled his eyes as he started moving his hands in sweeping motions.

The snow swirled in little gusts and started to slowly disappear.

"I didn't think it would go wrong jackass. I didn't mean for it to happen."

Derek still had a serious look. "No, I know you didn't mean for it to do that, but why did you do it in the first place? I mean you'll do reckless magic sure, but that was stupid. You hadn't finished the translation, Deaton wasn't here to fall back on, and using Scott like that, you are reckless. You aren't stupid."

Stiles huffed. "I thought it would help. He's been having a rough week. He's fighting with Allison a lot lately, that last week was a lot to put on his plate, and he's just been stressed lately. I saw the childlike glee thing and I thought-"

Derek smiled softly. "You thought it would make him happy."

"He just needed a break."

Derek nodded and Stiles continued to work in silence.

"You're a good friend."

Stiles' hands paused. "Scott is a good friend too." His voice had an edge.

"No, I know. And you heard him today, he knows it too. Even if he lives in the big world now, even if he's big now and forgets to show that he knows it."

Stiles seemed to get what he was saying and resumed his work. "He's just stressed lately. Sometimes friends take more than they give. Sometimes they take without realizing what needs to be given. It doesn't make them bad, it just makes them human. Loving them doesn't change that they're people."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "Do you need something he isn't giving you?"

Stiles tilted his head from side to side. "Yes and no." Stiles' eyes met Derek's. "It isn't his fault I'm lonely." He looked back down. "It isn't really anyone's."

"It's my fault."

Stiles' hands and the wind stuttered.

"I'm your alpha. If you are lacking it means I'm not providing."

Stiles did a big sweep. "This isn't the sort of thing you could provide."

"Am I not your friend?" Derek tried to not show his hurt.

Stiles smiled. "Of course you are sourwolf. I meant either of you. It is not the sort of company a friend can fill."

Comprehension crossed his face. "Oh."

"I don't fault Scott for loving Allison, I just wish I had someone that loves me that much." Stiles shrugged as he finished the last few sweeps. He surveyed the loft looking for things out of place or somewhere his magic hadn't swept and dried.

Derek couldn't stand the acceptance in his voice towards his sadness. Like it was okay or even fathomable that he wouldn't have someone that loved him. "You do."

Stiles let out a snort. "Not, like that. Not in that way." Stiles straightened a picture frame the fell.

Derek tried to swallow to clear his throat. "You do."

Stiles turned with a puzzled look. "I- I don't un-"

"I do." Derek steeled himself. "I love you like that. I love you that much."

He looked distrustful. "Why have you never told me before now?"

"I don't deserve you, but I don't want you to think you aren't loved. God, never think that. In any way. Because I love you in all of them."

Stiles walked up to him. "Are you being honest with me?" He looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

Derek closed his eyes. "Yes I am."

Stiles scoffed. "Say it looking into my eyes, and maybe I'll believe you weren't toying with me to be a jackass." Stiles turned to walk away.

Derek caught him by his arm. "I didn't look into your eyes because every time I do, I fall more in love with them, with you. And I worry if I fall anymore I won't be able to look at you without kissing you." Derek could feel him turn back towards him.

"Derek, open your eyes."

Derek shut them tighter before opening them slowly. He didn't feel himself breathing as he looked at Stiles.

"Were you honest?"

"Yes." It came out as a breath.

Stiles slowly brought his arms up and around Derek's neck without breaking their stare. "Derek?"

"Yes Stiles?"

"Look into my eyes."

Derek looked down to his lips and Stiles nodded.

Derek kissed him hesitantly till he gripped the back of his neck with still chilled fingertips that pulled him deeper.

Derek pulled back to look into his eyes again.

Stiles spoke sincerely, "I love you. In every way I am capable. I love you as deep as the core of my being and I can't believe you never did anything about it if you did too."

"I don't d-"

"I swear if you finish that with, deserve you, I will walk out."

Derek wound his arms around his waist. "I don't."

"And I don't give a shit what you think. You're wrong."

"Says the man that turned himself into a snowman hours ago."

"I'm impulsive, not a bad judge of character."

"Well what ab-"

Stiles raked his fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. "How about you kiss me? We can have this fight later, like at out wedding."

Derek snorted. "Quite sure of yourself aren't you?"

Stiles smirked and started to lean back against the unbreakable hold of the arms holding onto him.

"I'll be sure enough about the both of us for both of us."

Derek smiled. "Sounds good to me." He leaned back in and Stiles eagerly met him.

Derek supposes he should've known better, but then again he never knows anything when it comes to Stiles. He always seems to surprise him.

Looking into his eyes he'd be grateful to never seen them turned to lumps of coal again. However, he supposes a pair just like them filled with childlike glee might not be as far out of his grasp or desires as he thought.

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Self Promo Sunday

I have honestly really enjoyed going back to my older fics and making picsets for them to post here on tumblr. This one is a cute little one shot that came to me because I did a brief stint in direct sales and was HORRIBLE at it! (I sold - or tried to sell - scrapbooking supplies). I know Killian is good at charming his way out of trouble and using his charm to steal things, but I imagined that being a salesman wouldn’t be as easy for him. You see, I was horrible at sales because I don’t like talking people into buying something when they clearly don’t want to. Killian Jones is very passionate about choice and free will, so I imagined the following story!

Words: 2k and some change

Rating: G for silly, sweet fluff

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan

Emma Swan really hopes Killian Jones has a second job. Because she’s never seen a worse salesman. The first time he comes into the diner, the last thing she would have pegged him as is a salesman. All mussed hair and black leather with piercings and a tattoo. The heavy black vinyl bag leaning against the booth next to him that says Buy the Book: Direct Sales is out of place.

He’s so bad at it that it takes him forever that first day to give her his sales pitch. Until his second cup of coffee, to be exact. That’s when he hems and haws as he gives her his business card. She stares at it, wondering how she can politely decline as he scratches behind his ear and slides a glossy catalogue across the table. She normally wouldn’t have any qualms at turning down either a sales pitch or a pick up line with a gruff not interested, but he’s so adorably nervous. He starts pulling sample inventory out of his bag, and that’s when she’s in trouble because Henry sniffs out the books like a bloodhound. Her son hops from his stool at the counter where he’s been doing his homework, and eagerly starts looking through the books.

“Look at this one, mom!” Henry exclaims, holding up a pirate sticker and activity book. “It’s not for babies. It’s got cool facts about the history of real pirates.”

Yes. Emma Swan’s son is not your typical ten year old. He’s both a bookworm and a history nut. And she loves him for it. Which is why she buys it. Not because salesman Killian Jones has killer blue eyes.

She pulls a twenty from her apron pocket, hands it to him (because there’s no way she’s giving a guy she just met her credit card information), and tries not to swoon when he smiles. It’s killer, too. She’s his first customer, he tells her, and she can’t help smiling back. He frowns, though, when he realizes he doesn’t have change for a twenty, and then Emma rolls her eyes because, really? It’s just a nickel. He smiles again at that and, well, crap. That smile!

She rolls her eyes later when she sees the ten he left for a tip along with a note telling her she’s “bloody amazing.” The fool went and gave the majority of his profit right back to her. Yeah, he really sucks at this.

*********************************************************

The second time he comes into the diner, he wisely comes in the afternoon again, ensuring Henry is there doing his homework. But this time, he tries (and fails) to chat up fellow customers to get a few sales. They seem skeptical of a salesman who looks more like a biker/rock star than someone who peddles used cars. Emma almost laughs when the only single woman in the diner’s face instantly falls when Killian Jones produces his business card and a catalogue. Seems his blue eyes and his smile are powerless against a woman scorned. She huffs as she tosses her tip on the table and exits the diner post haste, leaving a clearly baffled Killian behind.

When Emma approaches his table, he smiles half-heartedly and she feels sorry for him. Once again, he doesn’t try to sell her anything until she fills his coffee mug a second time. That’s when he pulls out a book he thinks Henry might like, all about knights and castles of the Middle Ages. Henry eagerly peruses it, and Emma is a sucker once again. She buys it because Henry loves history so much he’s the only ten year old Emma has ever heard of who was pumped about a weekend trip to Gettysburg. It’s not because of the way Killian Jones swipes his tongue over his lower lip when he’s nervous.

*****************************************************

The next time Killian comes into the diner, Christmas music is playing and a garland of evergreen hangs in loops over the counter. It’s mid-morning, so Henry’s at school. After his second cup of coffee, Killian admits he came when he knew Henry would be at school because he was hoping . . . and then he’s hemming and hawing again, rubbing at his neck and scratching behind his ear. Emma thinks for a split second that he’s trying to ask her out until he pulls his company’s Christmas catalogue out of his bag. She tries to ignore her disappointment when he asks if she’s finished her Christmas shopping yet.

She ends up buying a “Daily Inspirations for Teachers” desk calendar for Mary Margaret and Nicholas Spark’s newest bestseller for David (a guilty pleasure she loves to tease him about). For Granny she gets a book of knitting patterns. Killian pulls out a book he thinks Henry would like: a leather bound book of fairy tales with the title Once Upon a Time embossed in elegant script across the front. Emma knows Henry would love it, but gasps at the price. A forty dollar book is way over her budget, and like the horrible salesman he is, Killian doesn’t push it. She orders two graphic novels for Henry instead, and when she places the order she slides her credit card across the table.

Killian tells her it’s his biggest order to date and smiles so wide Emma is able to confirm her suspicions. There are dimples underneath that scruff. She begins to second guess her assertion that he’s a bad salesman. Because she’s pretty sure he could sell beachfront property in Kansas with those dimples.

*************************************************

In January, Emma is alarmed when a dejected Killian Jones enters the diner and slumps in his usual booth, his head in his hands. Emma decides to stop the charade when she approaches his table.

“You don’t have to wait till your second cup of coffee.”

Killian lifts his face to hers and quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “I’m sorry, love?”

“You know,” Emma says, gesturing with her order pad, “selling me books. What do you have for Henry this time?”

Killian sighs and leans back in the booth, “Alas, Swan, I am no longer in the business. I’m pretty much the worst salesman in the world.”

Emma hates that she chuckles, but she can’t help it, “Yeah, you pretty much sucked.” Killian, thankfully, laughs as well. “I’m glad I was your best customer, then. While it lasted.”

Killian winces, “Actually, love, you were my only customer.”

Emma’s jaw drops at that and her sympathy grows exponentially. She never bought that much, really. She glances around for Granny as she slides into the booth across from him. Although, based on Granny’s reaction to the knitting book (Why don’t you kiss the man already instead of buying all his books?), she doesn’t think she’ll mind.

“Are you okay? I mean, you don’t seem like you’re starving and destitute, so I’m assuming you have another job.”

“Several, actually,” Killian says, drumming his fingers on the table. “My brother and I do seasonal work on the Cape with a boat charter we own.”

“Cape Cod?”

“Aye. The Cape is beautiful in the spring and summer, but in the winter it’s downright depressing. So I like to come here to Boston once we winter the boat. The hustle and bustle is a nice change of pace, and I love city life during the holidays. Plus, like your boy, I’m a bit of a history buff. I work seasonally at the bookstore down the street.”

“So why the direct sales?”

Killian sighs, “A foolish notion. The bookstore only hires me through the end of December. I thought with this second job I could stay in the city until spring,” he shrugs. “Turns out convincing a customer in a bookstore to buy J.M. Barrie’s original Peter Pan instead of the abridged illustrated version is a mite different from selling books all on your lonesome.”

Emma’s heart drops at the implication of what he’s saying. “So what will you do now?”

“Slink back to the Cape with my tail between my legs and help my sister in law at the ice cream shop, as usual.”

So he’s leaving Boston. He’s leaving, and Emma is surprised at how much it disappoints her. “An ice cream place on the cape can make it through the winter?” She almost face palms. Can she sound any more desperate to convince him to stay?

Killian doesn’t seem to pick up on any subtext, thank goodness. “Elsa inherited the place from her aunt. She and her sister helped out there since they were kids. They know how to make it through the lean months. Dull as tombs, though. Yet, as they say, spring will come again!”

Emma tries to smile, but she knows it’s half-hearted. Killian reaches into his bag and pulls out the leather bound book of fairy tales she couldn’t afford at Christmas. Emma arches an eyebrow, “Still trying to make a sale?”

“Oh no, Swan, this is a gift. To thank you.”

“Killian, I can’t accept that. You need to sell off your inventory, or you’ll lose everything you invested.”

Killian chuckles sardonically at that, “Too late for that, Swan. Besides, you’re the only one who ever bought anything, and you know it wasn’t for the books. You felt sorry for me.”

Emma’s face flushes, and she wishes she could tell him that wasn’t it. She’s always despised pity and vowed she’d never doll it out. But how can she explain that while still guarding her heart? Instead, she accepts the leather book and hugs it to her chest, mumbling a soft “thank you.” Killian smiles in return and exits the diner without ever ordering a thing. And she hates the finality of his departure and the possibility that there could have been a them, but now she’ll never know.

She looks down at the book in her hands and notices a little rectangle of cardstock poking out of its pages. She pulls it out, expecting it to be Killian’s Buy the Book business card. Instead, it says Jewel of the Realm Charters with the names Liam and Killian Jones and a phone number. Emma’s heart flips in her chest when she sees that Killian has jotted a note on the back.

I owe you and Henry a free day of sailing. – Killian

The fool still knows nothing about making a profit.

********************************************************

In February, Emma Swan walks into Any Given Sundae along the shores of Cape Cod. She convinced herself there was nothing stalker-ish about her showing up here, but now that the bell is jingling above the door and the blonde woman behind the counter is smiling at her, she’s having second thoughts. Killian had mentioned his sister-in-law’s name, so it’s not like she had to be a private detective or anything to find the place. Still, who drives all the way from Boston to Cape Cod just to visit an ice cream shop? In February?

“May I help you?” asks the blonde, and Emma fiddles with the end of her scarf. She was kind of hoping Killian would just be there when she walked through the door.

“Um . . . I . . .” and she almost laughs thinking of the way Killian would hem and haw when selling her books. She glances around the store. It’s one of those tiny places that beach goers walk in and out of on hot summer days. There are no tables or chairs anywhere in the place. But in the corner a display table has been set up. A display table of books. Emma walks towards it. “You sell books?”

“Oh,” says the blonde – Elsa, she assumes – with a dismissive wave of her hand, “that’s a failed business venture of my brother-in-law’s. Please buy one. I need to get those out of here before tourist season.”

Emma reaches out and runs her fingers along the edges of the books.

“Swan?”

Emma turns to see Killian standing behind the counter with a large tub of ice cream in each arm. He deposits them quickly into their slots behind the glass then comes around to face her. They stand there staring at each other for a few moments, grinning like a couple of idiots.

“Wh-what are you doing here, Swan?” he stutters, and she swears he sounds more nervous than he did when he was trying to sell books.

“Guess it’s too early for that day of sailing, huh?” she teases with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases back, “there’s a foot of snow on the ground, Swan.”

Emma bites her lip and fiddles with her scarf again, “Actually, I came to tell you thank you. For Henry’s book. He loves it.”

Killian raises his eyebrows, “You drove all the way out to Cape Cod to tell me that?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Emma blush, and they just stare at each other again like goofballs. She sees Elsa laugh and shake her head out of the corner of her eye, and she thinks that she couldn’t possibly embarrass herself any more than she already has. So with a roll of her eyes and a screw this, she grabs him by the shirt collar and kisses the living daylights out of him.

He dives back in for more when she finally pulls away, and when Elsa tells them, “Easy there, tigers, you’re gonna melt all the ice cream,” they laugh against each others’ lips.

************************************************************

Two months later, Henry brings his book along when Killian takes them sailing. He reads parts of it out loud to them when Killian lays anchor, and Emma finds that it’s modern versions of classic fairy tales. Snow White is a bandit with a bow and arrows, Red Riding Hood is a werewolf, and Captain Hook is a hero who falls in love with a princess. And Emma thinks that she really likes this story. A pirate and a princess.

But she likes theirs better.

A salesman and a waitress.

Make that a horrible salesman and a waitress.

#cs ff #self promo sunday #cs modern au #fluff #killian as a salesman #a horrible salesman #emma as a waitress #emma and henry

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eyeless-cunt · 4 years

Text

THERE IS MORE

Witness Protection

You should know what this is by now

Chapter 3 y’all

You felt as though you were going insane. The man hadn't said a single word to you since the weird field area. Only lord knew if the ancient vehicle you sat in had a working radio. Asking was out of the question, you still had tape over your mouth. Couldn't check, you had tape gloves that went all the way up your arms, rendering them useless. With half lidded eyes, you stare at your disheveled figure in the side mirror. Dear god, you looked like shit. The blood on the side of your face had caked into a gross brown and was beginning to flake off, leaving you looking like you were a burn victim. You wince internally. You had mangled hair, with strands sticking every which way. Bags under the eyes displayed your lack of sleep and slowly depleting sanity. With a nearly inaudible groan, you tap your head against the glass. 'Can't he just kill me and get this over with? I don't know how much sitting in dead silence I'm going to be able to handle.' You slouch heavily, slowly sinking to the floor of the truck.

"You'll hurt your back sitting like that," his monotone voice stated off handedly. You huff and remain there. He sighs and grabs the back of your shirt, tugging you up to sit properly. You groan. Apparently sitting weirdly isn't even an option. He remains facing forward, not even glancing in your direction. Unable to spit insults at him, you level a heated glare at instead. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Maybe a good mix of both. It wasn't easy to tell how long you sat there, giving a dirty look to a man that probably couldn't even see you past the hood he had been wearing this entire time, but you assumed it had been about ten minutes or so. The truck suddenly stopped. You break out of your hate filled trance and look around. Why did he park in an actual parking lot? Was he going to let you go? The thought filled your heart with hope. He popped open the center console and pulled out a large bottle of what sounded like pills. Christ, was he about to just pop a few pills to deal with your bullshit? He pulled his mask off, placing it in the back seat. The cap popped off and he dumped a few out, throwing them into his mouth and closing the bottle. He pulled the hood down, giving you a clear view of the side of his head. You voice your distress at his appearance in muffled screams. He sighs heavily, leaning his head back against his seat, not seeming bothered. The screaming grew louder as his features shifted.

He opened his eyes and glanced at you, letting you get a clear view of his eyes. The screaming ceased in shock. How had you not seen them under his mask? With how bright the blue of his iris was, one would think they would glow in the dark. He pulled the visor down to examine his face in the small mirror embedded inside. He licked his teeth, turned his face from side to side. It finally clicked why he sounded familiar. He was the weird guy that had been staring at you when you changed out shifts with a coworker. You sigh internally. No point in thinking about it now, you guessed. He had murdered someone and kidnapped you, you had bigger things to worry about. His buckle clicked and you snapped out of your thoughts.

"I'll be back," he said simply, clicking something on the side of the door and closing it. Did- did that fucker just turn the child lock on?! Where the fuck were you gonna go in blood soaked clothes and taped up arms?! You send a hateful glare at his retreating form. He went into a store. A very large store. The fuck was he doing?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He bit the inside of his cheek as he entered the store. Did she really have to scream like that? Probably, not everyday you see a man with grey skin. And it's also not everyday you see him suddenly become a shapeshifter after popping some pills. Either way, it really wasn't a boost of confidence for his already weak self esteem. Whatever. He had a reputation to uphold, and that meant keeping his cool, constantly. He'd already almost lost it on her while she was being annoying the night before. No point in risking it now. Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. He began his journey towards the clothes section of the store before he paused. He forgot to ask what her sizes were. He facepalmed. And she had been wearing heels too. He grumbled, figuring it'd be easier to deal with that later. Right now he had to focus on getting her clothes that weren't stained with blood. He debated on heading to the women's section, guess her size. No, bad idea. Someone is bound to try to talk to him. He was a tall man, he had no reason to be in the women's section, and people were bound to wonder. Both his pride and crippling social anxiety told him to not risk it. Avoiding talking with people was a priority. With a deep breath, he swiveled on his heel, headed towards the mens. He'd just grab some smaller sized jeans or something. There was a time where baggy jeans were popular right? He furrowed his brows as he thought, as he did a lot. His mind continued to wander until he reached the clothes. He eyed the jeans and opted to grab a pair of skinny jeans, in a random size that looked like they would fit her. He wasn't exactly staring at her legs, so he hoped that brief mental image he had in his mind was enough. He turned to the shirts. Any of them would work, they just couldn't be too big. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to her bitch and whine about him being a 'pervert' because it dipped too low and showed her bra.

He grabbed a basic black tee, looking to be maybe a size smaller than he got his own shirts. That'll do. He got a second pair of pants and a second shirt, just for good measure. He bit his tongue. He knew a little bit about the hygienic needs of a woman, but he hadn't smelled any blood or hormonal spike on her, so he figured she'd be fine for now. As he made his way to a different part of the store, he passed a shelf of hoodies. He backed up. Should he get her a hoodie? That would be awfully nice of him. She had done nothing to deserve any form of kindness from Jack. Letting her live was the extent of his mercy for her. 'But if she isn't cold that's less things she'll have to bitch about…' he mulled it over in his head before deciding. He'd get another hoodie for himself and let her wear it passively. 'What a fucking genius you are, Jack, absolute genius' he congratulated himself, grabbing a dark colored hoodie that was in his size. He nodded, satisfied and went to get a few more items.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had been pretty confident he up and died in that store, he took so long. But alas, he had to return. You watched his form make its way to your side of the truck and reflexively shifted away. He swung it open, placing the bags he held onto the ground while he stood onto the step to reach your seatbelt clip. He tore off the tape, unclipping the restraint. The tape on your mouth went next.

"Spit an insult at me and I'll cut off your tongue," he quipped. You closed your mouth. "Good girl," he himself seemed to cringe at what he just said, judging by the sigh he released. You scrutinized his face as he worked on the tape on your arms with intense concentration. He had tiny freckles all over his face. They were so small it was impossible to see them from a distance, but they were everywhere. His nose, his cheeks, even the top of his neck and between his eyes. You would've found him attractive if you didn't know it wasn't what he actually looked like. Tanned skin and soft looking auburn hair helped him sell the whole 'fucking gorgeous' thing.

"What's with the whole 'pretty boy' get up?" you murmur. He pauses and looks up at you, confused. "why did you choose this look to be normal?" He searched her face for any underlying intentions. When he found none, he shrugged.

"Didn't get a choice," He finally managed to get the tape off of your hands and arms.

"You got damn lucky with it then, you coulda been ugly," you shrugged. He took a deep breath and didn't respond, instead reaching into the bag and pulling out a package of what appeared to be baby wipes. "I'm not a baby,"

"I noticed," he opened the package and pulled out a wipe. He gripped your jaw and turned your head to the side.

"I can do this myself,"

"Don't trust you," as usual, his response was simple. He wiped the dried blood off of your face rather harshly.

"Hey, hey! Be gentler! I'm not dead yet!" He growled lowly and held your face tighter in his hand, wiping the rest of the blood off of any currently visible skin. He took another wipe and used it to wipe off any tape or dirt residue off of you. "What gives with the mini bath?"

"You'll see," He pushed your head down, bending you so that your chest was pressed tightly against your thighs. He threw what you assumed to be the wipes into the back before letting you sit up again. He picked up the bag from off of the pavement and handed it to you. "Change," he closed the truck door. He must've gotten you clothes so you wouldnt be covered in blood constantly. You pull out a pair of jeans and a shirt, followed by an extremely oversized hoodie. You quirk a brow but peek out the window. The man was scrolling on his phone, back pressed against the car door. You deemed it safe to change and stripped down, pulling the new, clean clothes on. You rummaged through the bag some more and came across a hair brush, dry shampoo, and deodorant. Questionable items, but you put them to use. You felt like a human again. A soft knock on the window startled you. There he was. You blink dumbly at him. He points down. You look down. You had locked the door. With a sigh, you unlocked the door and he opened it.

"You didn't stare at me while I was changing, did you?" you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"I've got no reason to," he took the hoodie out of the bag and threw it at you. "Wear it if you want," he threw the bag in the backseat. You huff and pull the sweater over your head. He closed the door and moved to the drivers side. He strapped in and started the truck.

"Why'd you make me freshen up and stuff?"

"You need food. I don't know what you want," He made the short drive to a gas station that was only about five minutes up the road. He unstrapped and went to your side, opening the door. "Out," You unstrapped and slipped out of the truck, a little wobbly from not standing for so long. The heels didn't help.

"You're coming in with me?"

"I'm the one with money,"

"There's another reason, isn't there,"

"That one is obvious. Now listen. You go in there, grab anything you need, and if anyone asks, I'm your boyfriend," he briefed.

"Why do I have to say you're my boyfriend?"

"You won't have to if you don't act suspicious, now let's go, I've spoken to much,"

"You got a word limit or something?"

"Mentally," he ushered you inside.

"You gonna act all boyfriendy?"

"Boyfriendy?"

"Are you gonna act like my boyfriend?"

"Yes, and you'll have to deal,"

"Ew, but why,"

"There won't be any kissing," he rolled his eyes.

"What if you need to?"

"I won't" he guided you to the hot foods area. "Now get your food," He stayed close as you grabbed two slices of pizza and a hot dog, putting them in mini bags. "It's a long drive, go get yourself some snacks," you nod and sort of hand him your hot food, which he holds with no complaint. His eyes hold a glimmer of warning, telling you not to do anything stupid.

You're examining the chips on the different shelves when some girl about your age comes up to you.

"Did you hear?" She leans in close.

"Hear what?" you tilt your head.

"About the murder at that hotel. Apparently the murderer took a hostage with them, one of the staff," you pretend to be shocked and that the hostage was 100% not you.

"Really?" top tier lying this was. You just hoped it was believable. She nodded.

"By the way that guy has kind of been staring you down this entire time," she whispered. "Hey, creep! Why don't you go bother some other chick-!"

"Wait! It's ok," you subtly gulp and turn to your kidnapper, acting as natural as possible. "Babe, are you gonna keep standing there like a stalker?" He shook his head.

"S-sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, moving to stand next to you. He somehow managed to look bashful, blush and all. His posture was slouched to look more weak and not as standoffish. He probably took an acting class at some point.

"Oh, you're dating," she seemed relieved. You nod. "Can I have proof?"

"Why- why do you need proof that we're dating?"

"With the whole hostage thing I just wanna make sure he isn't the murderer, or you aren't, you never know,"

"It does make a bit of sense," your abductor agreed, somehow flying through this whole interaction look weak and pathetic, and making it look like he was completely off the list of possible suspects. She raised her eyebrows, waiting. He looks down at you and you look up at him, seeming to have the same idea. He leans down and you meet him halfway in a short kiss. The taste of iron and blood you expected never showed up. When you two pulled away from each other, the woman visibly relaxed.

"Alright, sorry for being weird. Have a nice day!" she waved. You waved along with the man. He grabs your hand.

"She made a scene, we gotta keep up the appearance," he whispered as he leaned down, followed by a kiss on the cheek to cover it up. You notice some people were definitely staring.

"Got it," you whisper back. Pulling your hand away from his you grab a bag of chips. "Do we wanna get chips or something else for the trip?"

"You'll be eating them more than me,"

"Yeah but I don't want you to think I'm greedy for eating them all,"

"I won't think you're greedy,"

"Yes you will," you put the chips back.

"You can get the chips, babe," You whine.

"But-!"

"You're fine," he took the chips off of the shelf and placed them in your hands. He mouthed something to you. 'Jack'. You assumed that was his name.

"You sure, Jackie? You're 100% sure?"

"Yes," You shrug and grab the collar of his hoodie and yank him down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," you coo. He hums and pecks your lips. The line is fairly short as you two go to pay. Jack pays and before you leave the guy manning the register bids you farewell.

"Be safe, you two lovebirds,"

"We will, have a nice day!" The moment you're both in the car you place the bag down and go to fetch the wet wipes to wipe your mouth off. They were too far back and you sighed. "You're a really good actor," you comment. "Your affection felt real," he hums.

"Likewise," he seemed greatly uncomfortable, and it made you wonder what he meant by mental word limit. Either that or he just really did not like pretending to be dating his hostage. You shrug. Best to ask once you've eaten. You unwrap your hotdog and take a bite.

#OH MY GOOOOODDDD #THE AFFECTION MADE MY HEART SWELL #IM SOBBINGGGGG #THIS IS SO CUTEE #LITERALLY THE BEST #i simply CANT FUNCTION #ITS TOO GOOD #eyeless jack fanfiction #eyeless jack #submisson #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #eyeless jack fanfic #creepypasta imagines #submission

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darling-i-read-it · 5 years

Text

Girls

Robin Buckley x reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None?

Author’s Note: Thank you for being so KIND! You’ve truly made my day better. I’m trying to space out your requests but truth be told I really like them and so I’ll probably write them soon anyway. I hope you like it! There needs to be more robin imagines in the world.

Requested: @ateliefloresdaprimavera and my Robin idea is that Robin always had a crush on the "Princess" of school YN Harrington, but never said anything to her ("she's too cool for me") it doesn't help when Steve is working with her at the mall. and after a LONG TIME for Steve (Dustin picks up faster than him ) he realizes that his sister and Robin are the best people in the world for each other and decides to help her friend. what do you think?

Summary: the request!

Genre: FLUFF

(not my gif)

You were going into your last year of high school and eventful it was bound to be. You were in the same year as your brother, Steve as you were moved up a grade when you were young. Despite being one year younger you tended to have the same friends as him and were often regarded as twins.

When he got a job at Scoops Ahoy you came round the mall for ice cream and some time in the book store while he worked, always tasked with picking him up because you shared a car.

You noticed Robin when you went there for the first time. You had class with her at some point in your years and you couldn’t quite place her face but you knew you liked her. She didn’t seem to shy down from making Steve look like a fool. Any one who was comfortable to make Steve look like an idiot was a friend of yours by default.

You thought Steve liked her more than a friend which made you sad. You haven't told anyone of your preference of girls except your brother who still seemed to be wrapping his head around it. You didn’t mind much because at least he was never indifferent to it. You really cared for him about that.

You shoved your thoughts about Robin to the side as best you could and got on with reading and eating ice cream.

Robin Buckley however was practically dying. She had had a crush on you since she saw you back in school. Honors english, freshman year. She sat behind you not that you often noticed. To your account, she never tried to actually talk to you. It was all just hoping you would talk to her first. But alas, she was sure that you liked boys and didn’t even want to be your friend.

When Steve joined her to work at Scoops Ahoy she should have been happy. She should have known that you would come around often and therefore had that much of a chance to talk to you but it was still hard. You did talk to her in passing, making sly jokes about Steve and his girl trouble. Robin would laugh but was never able to conjure something clever.

One day, when Dustin returned to Hawkins and walked to the back he was met with you and Robin. You were sitting in the back rooms counter, working on your homework. When you saw Dustin you smiled.

“I’m glad my brothers friends have finally came back. He looked like he was getting lonely!” you exclaimed with a laugh. Robin, who was manning the register, opened up the sliding window and stuck her head in the back.

“Don’t let him touch anything Harrington!” she called and Steve rose a head, nodding.

“I know!” Robin shook her head.

“I was talking to Y/N,” she explained. You grinned and shook her off.

“I’ve got you Robin,” you said with a sly smile. You were blushing and she was blushing and Dustin sighed. He looked between the two of you and decided in that very moment you both liked each other. He said nothing until you left later and then he brought it up with Steve.

“Is your sister dating Robin?” he asked in the back room. Steve did a double take.

“Uh. No?” he said. Dustin eyed his friend who he once thought held so much wisdom and now realized he was such an idiot.

“You know they like each other right?”

“You’ve been here a day what do you know?” Steve asked but he was thinking about it. All of the offhand comments about him when you were together. Lingering stares and Robins only kind words being to you. He thought his sister just melted to mush in front of any girl but he then realized when you were around Nancy you were never the same.

And then it was all clear.

Dustin was still staring at him.

“Oh my God my sisters in love with Robin!”

“And Robins in love with your sister. I don’t know what you do without me,” Dustin sighed.

The next day, when you took Steve to work he asked if you could come in and help him with something. You told him no but then succumbed at the thought of seeing Robin. She was already there, reading a book on the counter before the shop opened.

“Hello Y/N,” Robin said as you entered.

“Good morning Robin,” you replied. Steve felt almost like chopped liver and then sighed when he remembered that you were in love. He let it slide.

“You know Y/N, Robin has read that book you like so much,” Steve said as he grabbed his hat. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did you have me come in to speak with Robin?” you asked. You didn’t mind but you weren’t sure what he was getting at. Robin was curious herself. He shook his head, gulping.

“Listen uh. Hear me out yeah?”

“Doofus what are you doing?” Robin asked. She could feel her throat closing. She hadn’t told Steve anything yet and she was sure he was too much of an idiot to realize she liked girls by himself. And yet.

“Y/N has a crush on you!”

“What?”

“Steve!” You and Robins eyes met and you could feel your blood run cold. You were scared she would react negatively. You wondered how Steve figured it out.

“Is that true?” Robin asked. You took a deep breath.

“I...yeah. Yeah I have a crush on you but if you don’t...like girl then its ok-” Robin barely took two steps to kiss you. It would have been perfect if Steve hadn’t been cheering behind you and still though. It was nearly perfect.

Robin pulled away.

“I like girls.”

“Good! Me too.”

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagines #stranger things imagines #stranger things

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choupichoups · 5 years

Photo

Eliott falls helplessly infatuated with his best friend’s little brother— he knows he’s writing up his own death wish going after this boy, but fuck if Lucas isn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Or: Eliott’s under the impression that his best friend’s new step brother, ‘Lulu’, is a literal baby. Nobody tells him the guy’s actually a fucking babe-y.

The first big party of the semester is always a hit— people hooking up left and right with no hope of remembering any names come the morning light. At this point of the year, nobody gives much of a fuck about anything. Much less the first years, who’ve all got the same reinvent myself mentality that would either lift or destroy them in the long run.

Eliott is in his fifth semester already. He doesn’t give much of a fuck at any point in time.

A girl with burnt whiskey eyes catches his gaze while sauntering past, long dark hair falling in soft waves down her back. Her face is quite lovely in the midst of the sweaty heaps of bodies wriggling on the makeshift dance floor and Eliott smiles, eyes dark with challenge, but his feet don’t move from their spot.

“Already scouting the first years, I see.”

Eliott turns towards the voice, only mildly irritated by the interruption. “You know how it is.”

“Uh huh,” Adrien chuckles into his bottle, taking a long sip from his beer before pointing out a nervous looking boy by the speakers. “Thought that was more of your type?” The boy is tall, not as much as Eliott but enough to make him noticeable. His features are rounded and his carefully styled hair is just begging for searching hands to muss it up. If Eliott’s a little less sober than he currently is, then maybe he can settle for it.

But alas.

“I don’t have a type,” Eliott says, eyes casting around for the girl with the nice hair. “Last time was a fluke.” Benjamin had been the resident know it all in his literature class; cute but talked too much, argued too much, stressed out too much. Eliott had done him a favour with that fling last year— no, really, Benjamin's still one of his most pleasant break ups to happen that year. Maybe even of all time. They still text sometimes and all.

“You’re the worst,” Adrien snorts.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, someone’s bound to kiss you before we graduate, you’ll see.” It’s not long before he gives up looking for the girl, mostly because he’s already half forgotten what she looks like and he can’t be bothered to put more effort into the search.

“Oh fuck off, I got game.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Eliott smiles, laughing as he dodges Adrien’s swing at his head. It’s an easy feat— the alcohol has made his best friend quite slow.

“Shut up!” Adrien frowns, but doesn’t try for another swipe. “Oh, I’ve got someone I wanna introduce to you, actually.” He starts looking out into the crowd but a displeased pout is quick to form over his lips when he can’t seem find the person he’s looking for.

“Someone cute?” Eliott teases, grinning when he dodges a kick to his shin. “Geez, no need for violence.”

“No fucking kidding, man, stay away from this one.”

“Then what’s the point of introducing us?”

“You’re hopeless, you know that? When will you stop looking at people as things to play with? That’s gotta be tiring, man.”

Eliott shrugs, immune to each and every one of Adrien’s righteous spiels. He doesn’t take offence to it, used to the lack of filter that comes with the copious amount of alcohol consumed.

Adrien eventually gives up on searching the crowd. Granted, sticking his head out in one direction or another like some confused imitation of a mother goose isn’t exactly the best way to find someone in a jam-packed apartment but Eliott isn’t about to call him out on it.

“Where are the others?” he asks instead.

Adrien nods towards the backyard. “Out back.”

“Cool, you coming?”

“Nah, I have to look for someone, catch ya later.”

Making his way through the crowd is quite an interesting challenge. Eliott allows some wandering hands to pull him close, hoping that one of them would be enough to snap him out of this drudging atmosphere. But he quickly grows tired of that game— no amount of drunken grinding and senseless conversations tempt him stay.

Boring. Everything’s so fucking boring.

“Eliott!” His idiot friends cheer once he gets outside, getting a genuine laugh to pass through his lips. Idriss has his arms held out for a hug but Eliott very intentionally walks a giant circle around him, sitting next to Sofiane instead. Idriss flips him off.

“Having fun?” He nudges shoulders with a hunched up Sofiane, who blinks at him as if he doesn’t hear a word Eliott says. “Enjoying the party?” he repeats with a fond chuckle.

“Oh! Yeah, uh,” Sofiane hums, glancing back down at his phone. It lights up with a text from Imane. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Eliott rolls his eyes and leaves him to his pining. Sofiane gets extra sappy during the late hours of the night and he doesn’t even need the help of alcohol to get there; the fact that he doesn’t drink is probably a blessing for those around him.

He gets up to borrow a lighter from one of Idriss’ friends — Eliott can’t remember the guy’s name for the life of him — and pulls out the joint he’d been saving for much, much later into the party, but desperate times, desperate measures, etcetera etcetera.

“Eli, can you get us some more drinks, please?” Idriss calls out from where he’s slouched into a lawn chair, looking like he needs a nap and a huge bottle of water more than anything else.

“You sure?” Eliott surveys the piles of empty beer cans and bottles littering the ground. The amount is just a tad bit worrying but nobody else seems to be in a panic about it so Eliott lets it be. There must be a reason behind it and he’s also not about to act like any of their mothers.

“Super sure!”

He goes back inside with a shrug, unlit joint and lighter slipping back into his pockets. It’s not like the backyard company is any more stimulating than the ones inside. For god’s sake, he’s bored out of his goddamn mind. He might as well just go home and watch Animal Planet at this point. It’d probably bring about the same amount of joy as he’s feeling right now. Except he’d have the privilege of being in his pyjamas.

The fridge is empty of anything but cases upon cases of beer. Eliott turns each pack over, wincing at the brands. Even the alcohol is boring, fuck.

“Top left cupboard.”

And alright, nobody can blame him for the little jump he does at the sound of that voice— he swears the kitchen was empty when he’d entered it.

Eliott whirls around to face the person who’d tried to give him a heart attack, prepared to bite back with a slightly snappy response only to find himself face to face with cutting cheekbones and full lips curled into the most adorable of smiles. The boy’s hair is a divine mess, falling over large eyes as blue as the deepest waters of the sea.

Holy shit, he’s beautiful.

Eliott kicks the fridge shut, all thoughts of alcohol wiped from his mind. “What?”

The boy tilts his head. Cute, Eliott’s mind supplies.

“They’re hiding the good beer inside the top left cupboard,” the boy elaborates, legs swinging back and forth from where he’s perched up on one of the kitchen counters. Eliott’s eyes follow the movement, wondering how long it would take for him to get those very same legs wrapped around his waist. Preferably sometime soon. Behind closed doors. Sometime tonight, actually. Eliott isn’t made for waiting.

“And you know that how?”

“I’ve been in here for too long, apparently.” The boy shrugs, offering another tiny smile before he drops his eyes back down to his phone.

No, that won’t do. Eliott wants this boy’s attention all to himself. So he steps closer, wiping a hand over his lips as he thinks of which guns to pull.

But before he can make his move, another boy enters the kitchen with frantic hands waving in the air, heading straight for the space in front of Eliott’s boy without so much as a glance around. There’s a small, crooked joint sitting in between the newcomer’s fingers and from what Eliott can catch of his rambling, he’s gloating about scoring it for cheap.

“What?” His boy asks, sounding amused. “Slow down, Bas, I literally can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Eliott comes up behind the guy — Bas? — and picks the joint out of his grip, easy as stealing candy from a child.

“Hey!” Bas yelps, eyebrows furrowed as he turns around to puff up at his offender. Eliott almost laughs when Bas’ expression melts into half fear half wonder at the sight of Eliott hovering over them.

“You got tricked,” Eliott says, inspecting the poorly rolled mess in his hand. “This thing is shit. Whoever gave you this tried to pull a fast one.”

Bas squawks, mumbling equal amounts of gratitude and colourful curses as he takes the joint back from Eliott and rushes out of the kitchen, presumably to give his dealer a piece of his mind.

“Was that true?” His boy asks, and Eliott finds that he enjoys the playful glint in those pretty, blue eyes a little too much.

Just as playfully, he responds with a raise of an eyebrow. “Of course,” he says, digging his joint and the borrowed lighter out of his pockets. He wiggles it in between the two of them until a wide smile breaks out from the boy’s tantalizing bite over his lips. “I’m Eliott.”

“Lucas.”

Lucas, he repeats in the safe privacy of his mind. It’s only fitting— a pretty name for a pretty boy. He wonders how it feels for that name to roll off his tongue.

Eliott brings the joint to his lips, not once looking away from the staring match he and Lucas have unwittingly started. Lucas is the one to break first, glancing down at the darkened screen of his phone and then away to the side where a suspicious looking stain is splattered on the wall.

Wordlessly, Eliott flicks his thumb over the lighter and lets the smoke fill his lungs, the familiar sensation rolling over him as he thinks of the most delicate way to ask if Lucas is interested in examining the walls of Eliott’s bedroom instead.

“So what, are you some sort of weed master, Eliott?”

Eyes closed, Eliott chuckles, slowly inching in as he whispers, “No, I just know the good stuff.”

“Right.”

“You don’t believe me.” He takes another hit, head turned slightly to the left as he exhales. They’re close enough that blowing the smoke right in front of Lucas would be considered nothing short of suggestive and while Eliott plans to do exactly that, he needs a bit more reassurance that Lucas is as on board with this as he is.

And Lucas, bless his tempting little self, has that plush bottom lip trapped in between his teeth when Eliott glances back at him. “Not unless you share,” Lucas mumbles, looking up at Eliott from below his lashes. Eliott’s sure Lucas has got to be aware of what he’s doing. There’s no way any of this is done out of oblivion.

“I’m afraid you can’t handle it.” Eliott grins, daring himself to step even closer. A giddy part of him cheers when Lucas opens his legs wider to allow Eliott a space in between.

“You don’t think I can handle a little smoking?” Lucas leans back the slightest bit, balancing on the balls of his palms placed behind himself on the counter.

Eliott recovers the distance with a simple tilt of his head. “No,” he says, pleased when Lucas makes no other move to back off. “Something else.”

“Oh yeah?” The question is a whisper that sends heat coursing along Eliott’s bloodstream, which is ridiculous. Lucas hasn’t done anything but speak. “What then?”

Eliott brings the joint back to his mouth, taking a deep hit as he reaches over and presses a thumb over Lucas’ petal soft lips, almost groaning out loud when the boy opens up with ease, pliant under Eliott’s touch.

Their noses brush gently as Eliott aligns their mouths, lips parting to blow the smoke into Lucas’ waiting ones. He watches with hooded eyes the way Lucas’ own pair slide shut, breathing soundlessly as he takes in everything Eliott gives.

Magnetized by the alluring sight, Eliott falls forward, fully intending to close what’s left of the distance between them.

Unfortunately for him, Lucas has other plans. Their upper lips have barely grazed each other before Lucas tilts his head up, away from the loose touch of Eliott’s thumb. But with the distance as small as it is, Lucas’ mouth drags along Eliott’s own when he moves— a provocative hint of the taste Eliott’s been quite cruelly deprived of.

Stunned, Eliott can only nuzzle into the underside of Lucas’ chin, laughing in disbelief as this infuriating boy exhales the smoke up at the ceiling.

He feels Lucas’ body move soon after and Eliott shivers at the feeling of cool hands landing on the back of his neck. Lucas is smiling when Eliott straightens back up, looking equal parts endearing and dangerous. His fingers slide up the length of Eliott’s jaw, up behind his ears, and into the hair at the back of his head, scratching down until they land right back on his nape. The tips of his fingers have dipped into the neck of Eliott’s shirt, electrifying the small span of skin he touches.

Forcefully clearing the haze from his brain, Eliott goes in for another try, only for Lucas to curl up so that Eliott’s lips land on his forehead instead. Lucas’ laugh is a warm huff of breath over his collarbone and it feels like a cheeky apology, one that Eliott’s quick to accept with a chuckle of his own.

Eliott can’t believe he’s getting so worked up over some boy who denies him kisses and makes it up to him with fleeting, barely there touches. His friends would be rolling on the floor if they see him now.

But it doesn’t matter, because Lucas is so fucking hot and Eliott wants him so fucking bad.

He doesn’t notice the joint being taken from his hand until Lucas has lifted it to his own mouth. Eliott is mesmerized as he watches Lucas’ tongue dart out to wet his lips before taking a hit, cheeks hollowing from the initial inhale. Eliott’s head isn’t constantly in the gutter, mind you, but Lucas isn’t leaving him with much of a choice over here.

Both hands now free, Eliott intends to take back his control over the situation, but Lucas lifts his arms, landing warm and light over Eliott’s shoulders, twining around his neck, and Eliott finds himself dazed all over. His hands are loosely gripping the back of Lucas’ knees, and they’d maybe give an illusion of a purpose if Eliott isn’t so acutely focused on figuring out how to kiss Lucas before he dies from all the teasing.

Lucas shuffles invitingly close and blows the smoke into the corner of Eliott’s slightly parted lips. Eliott can feel the heat from the joint behind his head where Lucas’ arms are still curled. Or maybe that’s just the heat from Lucas’ body. He doesn’t know, Eliott can’t tell shit apart at this point. All he knows is that there’s a warmth everywhere as he exhales, watching clouds of smoke mingle in the air below the fluorescent kitchen lights.

He’s just about regained control over his own limbs, hands starting to tighten around Lucas, just about ready to fucking carry him straight into a bedroom— it doesn’t even have to be Eliott’s bedroom, he doesn’t mind, when all of a sudden he’s cold all over. All traces of warmth is gone from his arms and he looks down just in time to see Lucas somehow sliding smoothly off the counter and then hopping towards the living room in one quick movement.

“Thanks, Eliott,” Lucas pipes up, looking back at Eliott over his shoulder. His grin is wide and buoyant, looking way too pleased with himself. Eliott feels like he should be offended about something but he’s having trouble keeping up as it is.

What the fuck just happened?

He stands in the kitchen, staring blankly at the counter as he replays the last couple of minutes in his head— because that’s all it's been. No matter how much his brain is dramatically insisting that an entire lifetime has passed since the whirlwind that is Lucas, it truly only has been a couple of minutes since they’ve met.

His feet take him out of the kitchen before his brain follows the movement. It also belatedly registers that the dumb smile that’s stuck on his face won’t go away any time soon.

Friends and acquaintances alike find him wandering the place with his eyes lifted far, their attempts at conversation politely cut short as he searches above everyone’s heads for the only face he wants to see.

It takes Eliott a full hour to understand that Lucas has stolen his joint.

His mystery boy has vanished into thin air. Eliott can’t find him anywhere, which doesn’t even make sense. It’s not like the apartment is massive or anything. But the crowd is gradually thinning out, those with sense still left in them are heading out to better prepare themselves for the torture that is the coming week ahead and—

Ah. There he is.

Eliott spots him beside the balcony doors, flanked between two girls who seem to be in a deep, animated discussion with him.

“Yo, Eliott, we’re leaving.” Someone calls out from behind him and Eliott thinks that’s Sofiane. He’s the only one always sober enough to relay proper information between their group.

The only response he can muster is a distracted hum, but he does twist around to spare a quick glance at Idriss, who’s now laughing way too loud at everything he sees around him. Nothing particularly entertaining is going on so Eliott assumes it really is about time for Idriss to make his leave.

Eliott rolls his eyes, sharing an exasperated glance with Sofiane as he watches the poor boy try to talk Idriss out of sitting in with the giant game of truth or dare in the dining room. Luckily enough, Adrien checks in on them soon after. For whatever reason, he’s the only one Idriss listens to whenever the latter is drunk out of his mind. The trio exchange quick, silent looks between themselves before an amused Adrien finally convinces Idriss to make his merry way back to the front door.

A commotion by the balcony steals Eliott’s attention away from his stumbling friends, and he looks back to where he’s last seen Lucas just in time to watch the latter laugh at some guy who looks like he’s spilled an entire can of beer down his shirt. The music’s too loud for Eliott to hear the sound of it but his own lips twitch at the mere sight either way.

He doesn’t realize Sofiane’s snuck up behind him, following Eliott’s line of vision, until he hears an incredulous, “Oh no, Eliott. I wouldn’t go for that one.”

Eliott has to peel his eyes off of Lucas’ radiant smile. “Huh?”

Sofiane eyes him dubiously. “You’re looking at the boy in the gray hoodie, right?”

“Uh.” Apparently his non-answer is enough. Sofiane reaches for his shoulders and starts shaking him quite violently. Eliott gathers his wits about him and brushes the offending hands away from his person. “Why not?” he complains, aware that he sounds like a scolded pre-schooler.

“Bro, that’s Lucas,” Sofiane says urgently and, well, yes? Eliott wants to voice out his thoughts but Sofiane’s looking at him like there’s some kind of revelation to be had. Whatever it is goes way past over Eliott’s head.

“And?” Eliott drags the word out, frown deepening when Sofiane’s expression pinches strangely, like he isn’t sure whether to fuss over worrying or just outright laugh. It’s a face Eliott’s grown very familiar with.

“Adrien’s Lucas?”

Eliott remains staring at him incomprehensibly.

Sofiane’s starting to look a bit constipated. “You know… his precious Lulu? That’s him.”

Oh.

“That’s Adrien’s little brother.”

Oh fuck.

#skam france #elu fic #elu #fictag #has in fact nothing to do with letters #summary written at 2 in the morning #it is now 9 and i still haven't changed it #que sera sera #the shotgunning fic gone awry

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