#I drew this instead of sleeping so any mistakes I made are not my problem anymore

[swimming-karyss]

one of my headcanons is that Sabo and Lindbergh get along really well! Because they have similar temperaments And eagerness to fight. And they started hanging out more after Sabo ate mera mera no mi. (because now he can help instead of just watching Lindbergh work)

I'm saying it now because it'll explain a thing I'll say later! ;)

Also a couple of my other hc about Sabo&RA!

Belo Betty really didn't like Sabo at first. Partially because they both are bold and rude, and Betty in general isn't the nicest to people and partially because Belo Betty believes that every person must make the choice to fight themselves. And Sabo didn't. He didn't have any reason to join the RA (apart from being an injured child with nowhere else to go), he had nothing to fight for. Of course, with time they built up trust and kinda good relationship, as Sabo proven again and again his devotion to the cause. They still bicker a lot, because Sabo is a menace and Betty has a sharp tongue.

This one is silly: As Sabo was still recovering on Wind Grandma he actually spent a lot of time with Karasu, as someone had to keep an eye on the kid. So. As Sabo wasn't able to run away he had to listen to Karasu's infodumping about crows (and why they are Friends and not Food) (you can guess the only bird Sabo didn't try to eat then on field missions)

And Karasu and Dragon are part of a really small group of people which are spared of annoying side of Sabo. Because he actually respects them. (Although Dragon lost that privilege after Sabo's memories returned) (his priorities shifted and it just so happens that Dragon is so easy to make fun of)

(okay, maybe it's just me, but does anyone else have the urge to bully Dragon?? I don't actually like him that much nor do I despise him.... but.... he is a tired old man in a family of outstanding idiots I can't help but want so squeeze him like a squeaking toy. metaphorically.)

#Sabo #revolutionary sabo #Lindbergh #revolutionary army #one piece #op fanart #fanart #art #I drew this instead of sleeping so any mistakes I made are not my problem anymore

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Floyd Leech?

a/n: Someone requested this; ask got deleted by accident! Hope you will like it, Anon!

Warning!

Once you start walking through the specific points of the guide, your life will be exposed to the presence of Floyd Leech. Interrupting the action at one of the stages may cause many problems; F. Leech categorizes stopping as "boring", which puts the user of this guide in great danger.

The only way out is to get to the very end. Or not to start at all.

You act at your own risk.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ 

1.   Be an easy new target.

To one’s surprise, it is much harder not to catch his attention.

You can easily become another entertaining target of Floyd, mostly by doing silly things or him just considering them as ones.

And to automatically get labelled as “silly”, you just need to fall into one of his traps—he prepares them for someone else, maybe for goldfish, maybe for another person given a sea-inspired nickname, expecting to enjoy watching how familiar face twitches with terror as he jumps into the scene and tightly embraces passing student.

But no. You were the one who showed up in the wrong place and time as Floyd jumped out from his hideout, scaring you half to death. With a strangled yelp, you sharply backed away. After gaining a slight flush on your cheeks, you recognised who you just bumped into and quietly gasped.

However, he was much more bewildered than you were.

He had never encountered somebody who wouldn’t just freeze under his touch. Jumping away, gasping, muttering half-hearted apologies and flushing? That’s new.

That’s also entertaining.

Even after your quickly disappearance from the scene, his gaze somehow inexplicably started returning to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Visit Mostro Lounge often.

“We’re looking for someone who would like to work part-time for Azul~” Floyd said, sliding poster across the table. He popped up in front of you unannounced, having your thoughts return to dark reality.

“Oh,” you replied quietly, packing your things faster. “Good luck with it.”

You got up from your seat, but the thought of letting you go just like that didn’t even cross Floyd’s mind.

“Ehh? Shrimpy, aren’t you going to try?” he asked, frowning. You winced a little at the nickname he called you, not sure how to feel about it. “You know, you won’t work there for free.”

Azul will grant your wish.

You fidgeted a little, questioning your response. You heard—who didn’t?—rumours that Octavinelle leader could fulfil any request for a certain price. Ones were working for it, others were paying, and lasts were trading their request with Azul’s one.

The thought of having anything just by working in some café made you consider the offer again—this time quickier.

“I will go,” you decided.

“Hooray!” Floyd smiled cheerfully, just as if he won some grand prize in the lottery. “But what could Shrimpy possibly wish for, to change your response so drastically~?” he wondered but didn’t get any answer in return.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be honest.

“Shrimpy...”

You passed Floyd, without sparing him a look. Anyone who has known you for a while would notice that your movements were a bit stiff and creaky.

Once you heard Floyd’s voice, a wave of tiredness struck you as if you didn’t get any sleep last night after working your shift in Mostro Lounge.

There were so many people to serve, so many things to do... and yet, you couldn’t help with anything, still not knowing how everything works, messing up with orders and breaking some plates in process.

Floyd buzzing around you, asking you some random questions (“Shrimpy, have you done it before?”). You answered them quickly, but each of them bumped you out of rhythm, making you forget what you were doing. It also didn’t help that Floyd certainly liked you being disoriented, replying with a shrug and grin on his face at your thundering glances.

So now, after gaining a little trauma from working in Octavinelle’s café, all you could do is ignore Floyd’s presence, silently accusing him of your infamous fiasco.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” he called you again, catching you up. “Are you mad?”

“I am not mad,” you snapped and took an unstable breath. “Look, I just started working, and on my first day I made already so many mistakes—”

“Yeah,” he replied indifferently. “And what with that?”

“...I couldn’t even correctly serve drinks—”

“Oh, stop!” Floyd muffled your mouth with his hand, an annoying look on his face. “I know where it is going. And no, you can’t quit a job, after all my efforts to get you there. It will get boring again!”

“But—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” he corrected his hand on your mouth, now not letting even a sound get through his fingers. “Azul knows that you tried your best. And for these plates you broke, he already added them to your paycheck. You need to practice! Not to give up, Shrimpy!”

You looked up at him, quite stunned by these words. Perhaps he quoted someone from the book or heard someone talking like that...

But it was encouraging. In some way, considering that you couldn’t protest, having your mouth covered. But still, it was encouraging.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Take classes together.

You can have the power of controlling Floyd’s behaviour, making other students’ life easier. Or you two can be a walking disaster.

Turning alchemy lesson into putting random ingredients into a boiler and praying that the mysterious mixture won’t explode.

History classes started being a regular pinching ritual to keep yourself from falling asleep (you are being pinched more, even when you don’t feel sleepy).

In contrast, flying lessons are peaceful. Nor Jade, nor Floyd, nor Azul are fond of these classes. Floyd is much eager to stand both feet on the ground, watching you practice or having you sulking next to him about heights.

However, if you are a calm, shy, or tranquil person, exchanging little notes or drawings will be a little habit of yours. Handing them discreetly under the eye of sir Crewel is quite a challenge, but it also gives satisfaction once the note was given.

Floyd throws away most of your paper conversations, but the ones he really likes, he cherishes them by keeping them with him, stuffed in his pockets. He will be irritated if anyone would like to see what you two were writing about, even if the talk was about new strawberries delivery for the new recipe.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Being ticklish or not.

There are two possible scenarios, whether his new, lovely target is ticklish or not.

If is: prepare for being touched a lot. Observing how you quiver with surprise, when he lightly—he especially makes his touch less fierce, knowing very well that tickling isn’t violent—wraps his hands around your waist, making you hold your breath.

He would tickle you a lot, very often making you cry out of laugh and pain that follows sharp writhing and fidgeting, but never that much, to seriously upset you. That’s some luck in such unlucky situation.

If not: he will try to find other weak point. Or will try to make you ticklish—his hands are particularly cold and pressing them to your warm skin, might make you give him a reaction he would enjoy.

Albeit, if you also won’t return any expression even then, he will seriously search for some other weakness. Slightly biting an ear lobe, whispering next to your ear or anything that could make his smile appear, once he made you put him somewhere between “I despise you with each and every cell” and abstract mumbling with the heat on your checks.

Oh, he loves your reactions so much.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Learn all nicknames he gave other people (you will unlock an option to slightly dish other people).

“Oh Lord...” you muttered to yourself, as your gaze followed scribbled list of names that Jade just passed to you. He willingly connected all student’s names with pseudonyms Floyd gave other people and handed the roaster over to you once you helped him with some kitchen cleaning.

“There are so many, right?” Jade replied with a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure you already memorised some of them, being around Floyd that much.”

You nodded mindlessly as you tried to get names into your head. You mouthed them soundlessly one by one, motivated to learn them by the end of the week.

The chuckle that escaped Jade’s lips startled you, and you realised that he still was in the room. Or that you didn’t leave the Lounge even after your shift has already ended.

“My brother surely didn’t exaggerate anything about you,” he said, his tone a bit more buoyant than ever, although you couldn’t be sure as the thick air of mystery still echoed in his voice. “I wonder how it will finally end?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Always share your takoyaki with him.

“What are you hiding, Shrimpy?”

You shuddered at a voice that you did not want to hear at this moment, not for all the world. Unless that the world included a chest filled with takoyaki, which you could give to certain somebody.

You felt that instead of a shashlik of tasty balls, you were holding a knife in your hands, a veritable proof of a crime you had committed. It weighed heavily in your grip, and Floyd's approaching footsteps did not make your situation any better.

It was a time to hide the evidence.

You pushed as much as you could into your mouth and swallowed a few balls without even gnawing them much. You almost choked on them.

“Me? I?” you asked innocently. You sincerely hoped that no sauce or a stray piece of cake was left on your face. “What could I possibly hide?”

"Hmm, hmm~," he drew closer, and you needed all your will gathered, to make yourself stay where you were. Even without looking in the mirror, you knew you were all pale on the face. “With my little eye, I spy something...”

His gaze went down, just to your hands, which you tried to hide behind your back.

Not giving him a clear look at your palms or wooden stick, you turned around on the heel and run with all your might. Your muscles felt somehow stiff as if they also didn’t see a chance to win this race.

Now Floyd was sure you are hiding something, and there is no chance he’ll let it go.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Watch him at his basketball practice.

81:30 for the blue team!

“Floyd once again started playing wild,” Ace breathed with clear regret in his voice. He glanced your way, frowning at you. “It’s your fault. Please come at practices when Floyd is in my team, not otherwise.”

You laughed awkwardly as he walked away.

A moment later, Floyd reached for a bottle with water and a towel you bravely guarded through the whole practice. He smiled wholeheartedly, happy with the win, water, and your presence.

“How did you like the game?” he asked once he changed from PE clothes and you two started heading towards Octavinelle.

“It was really fun!” you admitted, a speck of amusement appeared in Floyd’s eyes. “The red team didn’t have much time to capture a ball before you got hold of it again.”

“Hehe~ I’m glad you liked it,” he said. “I really like to play basketball, even more than ever, when I know that you are watching! That’s why,” he added, sincerity well-heard in his voice, “you need to come even more often!”

You nodded happily.

You just couldn’t mind it, all that accompanying him.

It was... fun.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Dance, dance, dance!

Heels tapped on the floor and the sound of these steps would probably have spread through the room, if not for the jazz music pounding through Mostro Lounge’s speakers.

Floyd pulled you closer, letting a playful smile on his lips stretch even more. You couldn’t help but smile back, before gasping as he spun you around your axis. You lost balance and would fall if not steady grip around your waist, as Floyd leaned on closer to you, making you bend on one leg more and entirely rely on his touch.

Last notes of melody faded, and you still were in that pose, facing each other. With each second, Floyd’s face was changing from some form of amazement to amusement, finally letting you properly stand.

“Ha... When did you learn to dance so smoothly?” you asked smiling in wonder.

“Hehe~ With legs you can dance a lot more than in the sea,” he answered. “On land, it’s super fun~”

You nodded at his words.

Floyd was a wonderful dancer.

But you can’t be sure if being a good dancing partner is the only thing that made you feel all warm and fuzzy because butterflies still didn’t leave your stomach.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            “Let’s do something fun!”

“Here is your paycheck,” Azul handed you a white envelope, sealed with a stamp with the Octavinelle logo. “And you, [Name], was also working for some request, right?”

You nodded as you stared at the envelope.

Somehow, knowing how stupid the lingering thought in your mind was, you couldn’t bear to look up. If you would, your gaze would probably ignore all the elegant furniture of the room, even the owner of the room, Azul, just to settle on Floyd.

If you saw anything more than his shoes, that stupid thought would make their way outside, turning plans into action.

And Floyd unknowingly did everything to make them come true.

“Shrimpy,” he cupped your face with his hands, judging by his voice he seemed quite... worried? When he made you look in his olive and gold eyes, you started holding your breath. “Are you okay?”

With that question, your strong will to wish for something expensive or practical was broken.

You started fidgeting more, not knowing how to express your thoughts in words. “I think I have a request... a question for Floyd, rather than for you, Azul...”

Azul nodded at first uncertain and the room has fallen into silence once again until you spoke.

“Well, Floyd,” you turned to him, trying your best not to wander your gaze away from him, “Please, take your time with answering, but I want your response to be, uh, honest.”

You were tripping onto your own words, embarrassment soaring in your body as you started to think that you should’ve kept quiet. But Floyd was patient with your answer, as well as Jade and Azul who observed the situation as if they predicted it before.

“I mean- Okay, just answer the question.” You took an erratic breath. “Would you like to—”

“Sure!” Floyd interrupted you before even hearing the whole question. “I would like to do everything with you.”

You stood there, all confused. But, by Floyd’s expression you knew that he guessed what you wanted to say. Face heating up, you forgot about Azul and Jade, who hid a chuckle by turning his head to the side.

“How fun,” he said as Floyd wrapped his arms around you, as if shielding you from other people in the room.

“I won’t share Shrimpy with you, Jade. Not a chance.”

#floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd #twisted wonderland floyd #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst floyd #twst floyd x reader #anonymous

[theshy1sout]

Six Eared Shadow

Do you remember the analysis about Mei and Red Son? That was me, and I'm doing this again, but now about Macaque and Sun Wukong

Because what the heck why do they hate each other so much

Ok, so this... This is such a messy chaotic really chaotic mix of a few headcanons and theories I made up and it SOMEHOW turned into a fanfic that I wrote so long that other people made many similar things in meanwhile and now this sounds not original at all, but I wrote it not to keep it in my deep hidden shelf so here we go

(It's based on what I know from the lmk series. I've started to read JTTW, but I'm still not so far to get to know anything about Macaque, but I won't change anything about this theory from now on)

Let's gather some basic information for the start.

-> Macaque is made with a shadow or even he is a shadow (kinda shadow demon, the demon of shadow). I mean, shadow is not only his power, he literally is made with shadow matter. We know that because he can not only manipulate shadows but also go through walls and turn yourself into a shadow.

-> I'm not sure if someone made him or he just "poof" out of nowhere just like Sun Wukong, but according to the story he told about how close he and Monkey King used to be, there's no doubt they had some master/student relationship which later turned into almost equal partnership. What is said, Macaque followed Sun Wukong for a long time, learning a lot from him, 'being his shadow'. They grew in power together, fought together, and (as it is said) Macaque started casting as Sun Wukong shadow, which (surprisingly) looks like he did willingly. Just look at the picture - the shadow is big and bright, it’s powerful and smiling, proud of his strength. He doesn’t look like someone forced to be Sun Wukong’s shadow. It shows how much Macaque admired Monkey King, that he wasn't just a friend for him, he was his idol.

-> We all know Macaque is a shadow demon, he can easily change his appearance, he does not have to look like an evil clone of Monkey King, especially if he hates him now or something, SO even if he used to look up at Sun as his ex-student or ex-partner, and now we know he is NOT, he would prefer to not look so similar any more.

He can choose any other look, but he doesn't. Why? Well, maybe he actually cannot. Maybe this isn't an appearance he has specifically chosen, maybe this is his 'basic' comfy form and any other form would just take too much energy to keep up. And looking at the really tiny probability of two very similar monkeys just "poofing" out of nowhere, I dare to say, Macaque wasn't born (I mean like Sun Wukong or any other demon), but he was specifically created. And here is a question: on someone's purpose or not? Maybe the power of great Monkey King was so strong so the part of it just jumped from him and formed into another similar creature, but let me say it's just weird and I prefer the theory of Sun Wukong being so bored and lonely after his master's (Tripitaka) death, and he created a brother for himself from his own shadow. Just to have someone, anyone.

So Wukong created Macaque and then what? He trained him, he taught him everything he knew, maybe even he shared his powers with him. Some great great bonding time. But as Macaque said, something drew them apart. It is visible that Macaque blamed Monkey King for this, for 'forgetting him'. Before speculation of what happened then between them, let's focus on what Macaque showed us what he wants now.

We have two episodes, both show different sides of him. In season 1, Macaque's main goal is to steal Monkey King's power from Mk, and then to very specifically revenge. He visibly does not want to defeat Sun Wukong, he wants to hurt him as much as possible. Look: when Monkey King showed up, Macaque totally forgot about Mk. And then, when he's so close to defeat him, instead of that he turned to Mk and tried to kill the teenager. Mk is just a tool to hurt Sun Wukong.

And we can't forget how Macaque constantly pointed out all the weak sides of Sun, he's basically just saying on and on "you're weak, you're weak, you're so weak, I'm so strong, I'm strong, you are so weak". Which really fits the feeling of being forgotten because he was weaker and Monkey King was stronger, better, glorious and famous. Macaque really feels like that, he really tried to make Sun Wukong feel his pain by dominating him.

On the other hand, we see that Sun constantly striked off him. He said almost nothing to him, just "Aren't you bored of keep being in my shadow? It's time to give back what you've stolen" and that was fricking all. For Monkey King, Macaque is a just shadow, always behind him, something you turn around and leave behind to not see it and to forget, like an unwanted past. An unnecessary problem, that irritatingly keeps returning to him. He does not want to interact to not make even a slight more bond between them, he wants to delete him from his life forever, and omg WHY. At this end of the ep, Sun Wukong did not even mention Macaque. He really doesn't care at all (or extremely tries to not care). His HATE is almost touchable, ouch.

In season 2, Sun Wukong LEFT US ALL ALONE. Macaque showed up again, he played with Mk a bit, and... Left? That's the thing, you see, he doesn't need to hurt or kill Mk. All we see is Macaque talking about his past and then letting Mk experience something the 'hero' in the story should have felt. The guilt. When Mk interpreted his story differently, seeing himself as the warrior, Macaque corrected him. Cause he doesn't care about Mk at all. He heard how Mk told him about what hurt him, and here is a funny point, because if Macaque needs to be understood, listening to Mk and talking with him (such a simple act of empathy, they both needed it then, guh) should have been enough. Mk really felt the 'warrior' character in the story, so he understood what Macaque felt. But surprisingly, that was not what the demon carved.

Macaque chose to make Mk feel like Monkey King at the moment something drew the demons apart. He wanted to force Mk to be sorry, to apologize, to regret his mistakes, cause he failed with forcing Monkey King to feel that. But! Maybe he is not as purely innocent and poorly forlorn. We see the flashback for a half of second before Mk hit him with Staff:

We see Sun Wukong attacking Macaque who's in his demon (true) form.

Let's repeat this: Macaque felt as if a friend left him in the past. He said a friend did this to have all the "hero's glory" for themselves. We know Sun Wukong could do such a thing, especially before he met Tripitaka, but 1. In my theory Macaque is created after Tripitaka's death and 2. If (as my theory said) Sun created Macaque to not feel so lonely, he would never leave him for such a thing. So Macaque hides something for sure, something he did, something so terrible that made Sun Wukong attack him and not want to know him anymore. How horrendous thing Macaque did that made Sun Wukong choose to be alone again and to forget his dear brother he created by himself?

Back to the great bonding time, repeating speculation of "oh maybe they even share the powers" and comparing it to Macaque wanting to steal Mk's power, my theory here is saying:

Sun Wukong taught Macaque the technique of the same powers as he knew, but Macaque overused it (probably wanting to see how powerful he is, probably showing off and killing so many harmless people) doing terrible terrible things. So Monkey King took all of the powers from him and left him alone, powerless, with the last painful words: "Dont you dare to show in front of my eyes ever again". Of course Macaque was hurt, of course he didn't see why he's the bad guy, because he did not care about people at all. And of course Sun Wukong was hurt too.

Maybe he came back to the village Macaque had destroyed and following a quiet crying he found a little baby with a heart so clear and he put into him all Macaque's powers, making them sleep until the time will be right... But back to the series!

Yes exactly. Why did he destroy the lantern and leave? Why did he suddenly lose interest in teasing Mk and stop forcing him to feel guilty?

First thing, he saw Mk is ready to fight for his friends seriously. He still cared so much about them, not like Monkey King about Macaque. That was hard to swallow, that was hard to watch for the demon. That was't the thing he wanted to see. And second, the flashback. Maybe the sudden realization that he actually did something bad. Cause Sun Wukong didn’t just leave him, he cast him out. It was hard to admit that he actually deserved this (or maybe much more), it’s much easier to blame others, not yourself. So Macaque felt “that’s enough” and left. Mk brought him to this uncomfortable point of admitting the truth. Which he didn’t want to. Maybe in the following eps, he will see it, but now Macaque just isn’t ready yet. But the last talk with Mk gives me a little hope. He stopped treating him like a tool or toy, he was actually talking with him like with a person, he even warned him about Lady Bone Demon.

Maybe (maybe) one day he'll see that humans aren't just useless creatures he can carelessly kill, maybe Mk will make him care and realize what he's done, but that's just speculation in speculation, he could die before he reaches that point, maybe he is already dead....

And that's it. That is all I wrote on ao3, but in the fanfic I put much more details and I build those characters up much more than here. This is only rough rough short-saying, I'm really sorry if you read it all

Oh and here is a link if you liked this above i'd love if you read the fanfic thank you

#monkie kid macaque #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #six eared macaque #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid mk #mk #lmk mk #lmk #monkey king #monkie king #monkie kid theory #my theory #well that was something #real big thing i made #i hope you enjoy #sun wukong and macaque

[professorrw]

Hey could I please request a LokixReader story set on Sakaar where they have an enemies to friends to lovers relationship? Lots of fluff and smut if that’s okay. Thank you xxxx

Lord have mercy is this long. I love the request (probably a little too much). I have to warn you before reading, it's 6.6K words, the longest fic I've written yet. BUT I love it. I'm really proud of it!

Pairing: female reader x Loki

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, praise, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, fighting (Hulk and Thor), spoilers for Thor Ragnarok, takes place during Ragnarok

A/N: And with this finished I'm going to take a day to myself tomorrow! I'm not feeling very well and I want to catch up on my series because I've been neglecting it. Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You could ask anyone on Sakaar who the Grandmaster’s favorite person was and they would say it was you. You grew up on the trash planet with your father, who was a reject from his home planet. But on Sakaar you were basically royalty. Your father befriended the million year old Grandmaster when you were just two and from then on you were living in the lap of luxury.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been on Sakaar, but it had been a few hundred years. You didn’t look that old, more like twenty to thirty. But there was no way to be certain with the way that time worked on Sakaar.

Your life was perfect in your opinion. You and your father were happy and healthy on the trash planet. Every day you would dress in your finest silk robes, adorn your flashy face paint, and go to the arena to watch fights. When you weren’t doing that you were in your home or with the Grandmaster, who was basically a second father to you.

It was the end of the day and you were eating dinner with the Grandmaster, your father, and some other ‘royalty.’ As typical with all meals held by the Grandmaster it was full of excited and animated talking and extravagant food. You were too busy drinking your wine to engage in conversation, unlike your father who hadn’t touched his plate in favor of speaking to the man next to him.

Your father was a very social man, probably why the Grandmaster took such a liking to him. They were equally as flamboyant and outgoing. the Grandmaster often remarked how much you looked like your father. You had the same hair color, eye color and shape, and skin tone. Though you couldn’t tell your father’s true hair color anymore because it had started greying, contrary to the rest of his body that wasn’t aging as quickly.

There was a knock at the dining room door and the Grandmaster called for whoever it was to come in. The noise had drawn everyones’ attention, and all eyes were on the man that was being escorted in. He was tall, with fair skin and raven black hair. He was the most attractive man you had seen in a while. He didn’t look like a lot of the men you saw, but he still looked elegant.

“Who is this?” the Grandmaster asked.

Instead of waiting for the guards to speak, the detainee spoke, “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard. I would like to say right now that it is a mistake imprisoning me and I will forget all about it if you let me go right now.” Loki spoke swiftly and with an accent foreign to many you heard normally. He had a very charming speech but you were in utter shock at the way he had spoken to the Grandmaster.

You expected the Grandmaster to order the guards to throw him in with the other gladiators and make him go against the champion, but he actually laughed, followed by everyone else in the room other than you.

“Well, Loki, I suppose I don’t need to make you fight. You can keep me company instead. How does that sound?”

It must not have been what Loki was expecting because he raised his eyebrows and said nothing for several seconds. “I think that would be fine,” he finally responded.

“Good, good. Why don’t you take that off him so he can pull up a chair?” the Grandmaster said to the guards. They did as he ordered and unshackled the dark haired man. As soon as he was free he grabbed a chair and planted right in between the Grandmaster and you. Loki sat down and gazed at you, offering a dazzling smile.

You squinted at him for a moment, sizing him up. You knew he was going to be trouble, to you at least.

“Ah Loki, please meet Y/N. She’s like a daughter to me,” the Grandmaster said to him.

“Hello Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His words were so obviously a lie that it made you scowl. You could hear the sarcasm seeping from his words. You could tell that he was already trying to butter up the Grandmaster. But in actuality he was trying not to get himself killed. Thor was nowhere to be found and he was on this planet by himself.

“Likewise,” you said back. You turned away from the men and started eating your meal, pointedly ignoring Loki as you did so. You could hear their conversation and it was almost impossible not to eavesdrop. The Grandmaster was mostly talking about himself, all things that you’d already heard before. Loki, when given the chance to talk, was just complimenting him in return.

When the meal was over and the dishes were collected the Grandmaster addressed your father. “My dear Holden, would you house my company for the time being?”

You whipped your head over to the Grandmaster. You couldn’t believe the words that had just come from his mouth. You couldn’t believe he was asking you and your father to let Loki stay with you. But your father being your father would have no problem with it. You just knew he was going to accept.

As you expected he said, “Why of course, the more the merrier.”

Your house was incredibly close to the palace. There really was no need for guards to escort you and your father home but the Grandmaster thought it was necessary. So after dinner you, your father, and Loki made your way to your home. It was very beautiful, and almost as grand as the palace itself, but much smaller.

Your father was in high spirits as usual. Once you were inside your father turned to Loki with a brilliant smile adorning his face. "We are delighted to have you. Please follow me, you can sleep here in the guest bedroom. Y/N is right next door so you can go to her if you need anything."

You looked at your father with a deadpan expression, which he didn't seem to notice. Loki on the other hand was positively beaming back at your father.

"Thank you so much for the hospitality. I really cannot thank you enough."

Your father chuckled, "It's no trouble at all. Any guest of the Grandmaster's is a guest of mine. So please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you again. I am quite tired so I think I'll be heading to bed. Goodnight Holden, goodnight Y/N." He bowed and went to his chambers without another word.

You looked incredulously at your father but he seemed to not have a care in the world. He was awfully aloof when it came to matters dealing with the Grandmaster. Your father and the Grandmaster had a complicated relationship. You really had no clue what was going on with them. They called each other dear and said they loved each other, but you had seen the Grandmaster and your father doing a fair share of flirting with many men and women.

You walked to your own room with a heavy sigh. You stayed up for a few hours that night wondering about the man next door.

You quickly realized that the Grandmaster had taken a liking to Loki. The next morning you, your father, and Loki were having breakfast with the Grandmaster and Loki was hanging onto every word that came out of the man's mouth. You just knew that Loki didn't care. But what you want to know are his intentions. He randomly shows up on your planet and instantly catches the Grandmaster's attention.

You spend most of the morning with your father, preferring his company to the Grandmaster and his new pet. The next time you saw him was at lunch. And just like at dinner the previous night Loki was sitting right next to the Grandmaster. Instead of enduring the empty compliments that were coming from Loki you decided to sit farther down the table next to another one of your father's friends.

"Hello Marridija," you said as you sat down. Marridija was a very kind woman. Kind and very up to date on all the goings on at the palace. It was no surprise that she was close to the Grandmaster.

"Why hello Y/N. You aren't sitting at the front of the table today?" Her drawn-on eyebrows drew in and she tilted her head to the side slightly, making you worry that her hair, which was styled heavily with spray to keep it straight up, would tip over and ruin. Over the many years on Sakaar you had grown accustomed to the wild fashion in the palace. Everyone in the Grandmaster's group wore metallic face paint and did their hair as tall and elaborate as possible.

Out of everyone at the table Marridija had the craziest hair and brightest makeup. She always made sure she was seen in a crowd. Her hair was bubble gum pink and looked like cotton candy on top of her head. Her makeup was many bright streaks of pink, blue, and gold.

"No, not today. I thought I might try something new."

"Oh. Well I'm delighted that you decided to sit by me. I've been meaning to ask-" her eyes cut from you to something over your shoulder before returning to talking, "about your company last night."

You clenched your jaw for a second before you answered her. "What would you like to know?"

"Well… the whole palace wants to know about this mysterious man. Loki, he said." She was speaking in a hushed voice so no one other than you could hear her. If anyone heard her they would most definitely be listening in. But Marridija was good at being quiet when she needed to be. She wanted to be the first with fresh gossip, and for that she would have to hear it before anyone else.

“There isn’t much to tell really. As soon as we got home he went off to his bedroom.”

The woman narrowed her eyes for a second before giving a huff. “Oh Y/N, you won’t give an old lady a bit of juice now will you?” Her face changed from a pout to a sly smile a few seconds after she said that. “Or is there something you don’t want to share with me? A secret of your own perhaps?”

“Absolutely not Marridija. What I’ve told you is the truth. I’m sorry I have nothing juicy enough for your ears.”

You turned away from the woman and forward towards the table and the meal being set in front of you. Through the whole of breakfast you remained silent, listening to the chatter around you. There always seemed to be something to talk about on Sakaar, but with Loki’s arrival and the Grandmaster’s liking towards him has made Loki the center of attention.

After breakfast the guests were clearing out of the dining hall. The Grandmaster had dismissed everyone and he and Loki were the last to leave. You stuck around and when the Grandmaster went to use the restroom and left Loki unoccupied you walked up to him. A smile appeared on his face as he saw your smaller frame scowling at him as you neared. For whatever reason he was quite enjoying how frustrated he was making you, though he didn’t know what exactly was making you mad.

“Hello Y/N,” he greeted.

“Don’t act all innocent. You’re up to something.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up but his smile remained. “And what would that be?”

“Well I’ve come to find that out.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet in front of Loki. It wasn’t your best look but you wanted to intimidate him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was taller than you and obviously confident enough to tell the Grandmaster it was a mistake to imprison him.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, as they say, but I don’t have anything planned. I landed here by mistake.” Loki said the words so simply you just couldn’t believe it. If he was telling the truth then it would take more than that to convince you.

“And why should I believe you?”

“Well I suppose you shouldn’t. You don’t know me, you don’t know my past or all the things I’ve done. Maybe we could spend some time together and you’ll realize I’m being honest.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why he said that last part. He had never offered to let someone get to know him. But a part of him also wanted someone to be able to talk to since he was all alone on a planet he was an outsider on. And it helped that he thought you were incredibly attractive.

You on the other hand didn’t know what to make of his words. If you accepted you might be falling right into his trap, into his plan. But on the other hand maybe he was being genuine. It surely wouldn’t hurt to find out more about him. If he was lying then you could possibly find out his intentions. So you thought the only logical decision would be to accept.

“Fine. After dinner we’ll go to my home and we can… get to know each other. But only because I want to know if you’re telling the truth.”

He laughed, “Of course, of course. See you then.”

The door you were standing next to opened and the Grandmaster himself walked out. He clasped his hands together and a smile appeared on his face. “Y/N! Thank you for keeping Loki company. Are you two getting along?”

You and Loki glanced at each other. There was no way you were going to say no, both of you had common sense. So you both put on a smile and looked as comfortable as possible.

“We are!” Loki said first. He put a huge grin on his face and leaned towards you, draping an arm around your shoulder. The sudden touch almost made you recoil, but if you did that it would look strange to the man that had just questioned your relationship.

“Well Loki and I should be going. I’ll see you at supper gorgeous.” The Grandmaster wiggled his fingers at you with an award winning smile. Loki took his arm off you and started following after him when the Grandmaster began to walk away. A hole might have been burnt into the back of Loki’s head from your staring. He was so puzzling. Irksome even.

The footsteps eventually faded as they walked further and further away from you and closer to wherever it was they were going. Your own slippered feet padded against the floor of the palace as you made your way down to the bottom level, outside, and safely in your home. It was a shame that most of the people your age were bounty hunters. You were all in all lonely. Maybe that’s what led you to agree to getting to know Loki.

You assumed he was around your age. He claimed to be a god after all, so he must be more than the average person.

Dinner rolled around and you went to the palace to eat as you did everyday. Loki was there. Though you knew he would be. You weren’t used to his presence just yet, so every time you saw him you were still slightly surprised. You were used to being around the ‘royalty’ of Sakaar for years and attending the same mundane events all the time. Loki was something new, something fresh. That’s why he was such a buzz on Sakaar. Especially when he made such an impression on the Grandmaster.

After the meal you went home and waited for Loki. You knew he would have to tell the Grandmaster some excuse for him to leave, so he was going to be a few minutes behind you.

Ten minutes after you had arrived home the door opened and Loki walked in. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw the exasperated expression on his face. You knew just how tiring the Grandmaster could be. Upon hearing the ring of your laughter Loki smiled. It was the first time he heard you make that sound and thought it was beautiful.

He slung his hair out of his face and slid into the white bar stool next to you at the kitchen island. You already had two glasses of champagne ready for the two of you. Assuming you would need it.

"What did you have to tell him to let you leave?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips.

"Well I told him I was tired and he just laughed it off then I said I was having an upset stomach and wasn't doing so well down there and he let me go."

Neither of you could hold back laughter. You were the first to start cracking up and seeing your reaction influenced Loki's joyous noise. The atmosphere was smooth and laid back. In preparation you had a drink beforehand, hence why you were so calm. Loki's smile and infectious attitude were also to blame.

In the time span of lunch and coming home you realized how ridiculous you were being. You had only just met Loki yesterday and you were already trying to accuse him of trying to harm the creator of your planet.

Once the laughter had died down you set your glass on the countertop and turned to Loki. "I'm sorry for how I've acted towards you. I haven't treated you fairly or given you a chance at all. I started jumping to conclusions and that was wrong of me. So I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me."

“Wow- I- Yes I can forgive you. I understand where you were coming from. You care about the Grandmaster and don't want him to be in danger. I think that’s very noble of you.” The corners of Loki’s eyes crinkled up as he looked at you with a soft smile.

“Well… thank you. I’m glad we’re on good terms.” You gave him an awkward smile and took another sip of your drink. Loki picked up his own and took a sip of it.

"So your father and the Grandmaster… are they together?" he asked once his glass was empty.

“I’m not entirely sure. They’re relationship is complicated. I know they call each other love and darling but they also flirt and do things with other people too.” You cringed at the memory of coming home and hearing your father with one of his friends. But beside you Loki let out a chuckle. He was really enjoying getting to see this new side of you.

With a final tip of your flute you had finished your drink. Looking over you realized that Loki had too, so you stood and refilled it.

“I just realized I didn’t ask you if you wanted another glass,” you said when you had finished pouring.

He waved you off. “Don’t worry, I do.”

You slid his flute across the counter and leaned on it, not bothering to go back around to sit on the stool again. “So, you said that you ended up here by accident… what did you mean by that?”

“Ah, trying to find out if I’m lying again? I thought this was behind us,” he said.

“I’m not asking because of that. It is behind us. I want to know more about you and what you were doing before you got to Sakaar.”

He nodded. “Well I was with my brother. Though I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Time works differently here,” you interjected. “So if you both came through at the same time he might get here later than you did.”

“Ah okay, well that explains it then. Anyways, I was with my brother, Thor. My sister, Hela, has cast us out of Asgard and we need to get back there and defeat her. We don’t stand a chance though,” he explained.

“If you need help getting there then I’m sure my father and I can be of assistance.”

“I think I should wait for Thor to arrive, whenever that is…” he trailed off.

“He could show up any day. But while you’re here you can hang out with me.” “When you’re not with the Grandmaster that is,” you added.

“I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away from him but I’ll definitely try.”

The last drops of your champagne slid down your throat as you smiled against your glass. You were really looking forward to getting to spend time with Loki.

For the next few days after that you guys were together any chance you got. The Grandmaster was keeping Loki close, but he was able to make up excuses to come see you when he could. Loki was like a breath of fresh air in your life. His life was a lot different than yours, but you found yourselves relating in multiple ways.

Every time you two were together all you could do was smile. It was like you had found your first true friend. But you knew that when Thor came that Loki would be leaving. Even though it was wrong you hoped that Thor wouldn’t arrive for a while just so you could have more time together.

It was a little over a week since Loki had arrived and you were laying next to each other on your leisure ship, staring up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful, everything here is,” Loki whispered. You were looking straight above you but when Loki was speaking he had turned his head towards you.

“It’s strange isn’t it? It’s called the trash or garbage planet but it’s dazzling if you take the time to look around.” When you finished speaking you rolled your head to the side to look at Loki. The whole time you were speaking he was memorizing every part of your face with a smile on his own. When you saw him smiling you shyly smiled too.

Without you realizing Loki reached his hand over and found yours. When he did he took it and interlocked your fingers. You looked down at your entwined hands. Your heart was racing and butterflies were filling your stomach.

No words were spoken, it was just the two of you underneath a blanket of twinkling stars wishing for something more. Loki’s hand was warm in yours, and you wished that same warmth would envelop your whole body. You scooted over closer and closer to the man until he wrapped his arm around you.

“This is nice,” you mumbled against his chest.

“It is. I like having you in my arms,” Loki whispered back.

You let your eyes close and the warmth and blissful feeling take over you. You woke up in bed, wrapped up in your covers. The sun was shining and filtering through your windows and splaying out on your floor. You thought back to last night and remembered you must have fallen asleep, which meant Loki must have taken you home and carried you to bed.

You walked out of your bedroom and stood right outside your door. You weren’t sure what time it was. It was morning that was obvious. Maybe it was early enough that Loki hadn’t been summoned by the Grandmaster yet. You walked over to the bedroom next to your own and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Loki called out.

You opened the door and gently shut it back when you entered. Loki was still in bed but he was awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you.

A tired smile went across your face as you sat down on Loki’s bed. He reached out to you and pulled you into him, setting you flush against his frame and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“I slept well. Thank you for bringing me back home.”

“It was my pleasure.” Loki tilted his head down and kissed the top of your head once more. His actions were so sweet you were feeling things you had never felt before. It was wild to you how quickly you had fallen for the God of Mischief.

After laying together for a few minutes there was a knock at the front door. You sighed and got out of Loki’s bed. The guards had arrived to escort Loki and you to breakfast with the Grandmaster. You both hurriedly got dressed and left to start your day.

For another two weeks things ran smoothly. You were happy. Loki was making you happy. But you knew that the day that Thor would arrive was approaching. It had been three weeks since Loki himself had fallen onto the planet, meaning his brother was not far behind.

You were sitting with Loki and mingling with other people in one of the palace rooms when Scrapper 142 announced she found someone. 142 was Grandmaster’s favorite scrapper. She brought him his champion after all. The person she had brought came into the room in the usual reinforced chair that all contenders usually did.

Loki was sitting next to you not paying any attention and neither were you until the man started yelling Loki’s name. You looked at him with confusion before you realized, it must be Thor.

When Thor finally got Loki’s attention he immediately stopped talking and got up. They were whispering back and forth fervently until the Grandmaster came up to them and interjected. They talked for a minute before Thor was thrown into the holding area for gladiators.

“That was your brother wasn’t it? Thor?” you asked when Loki came back over to you.

“Yes, yes it was.” He lowered himself back onto the couch and stayed quiet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… wasn’t expecting him.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded. Not only did you understand but you felt the same way. You hoped maybe Thor would show up later, and give you more time. But no. He was there and when given the chance he was definitely going to leave. But that wouldn’t be too soon. If he was fighting the Grandmaster’s champion he may never leave. You had seen the green monster in action and he was brutal.

Later that day you and Loki were sitting in the upper class stands at the Grand Arena watching the fights. Loki was constantly wiping his palms on his pants and his leg was bouncing up and down. He had never seen the champion fight but you had told him how ferocious he was and that made Loki nervous.

The Grandmaster announced Thor and when he came out onto the dirt the crowd was filled with ‘boos’ and other jeers. The ring around the bottom of the stadium begins to rise to accommodate the height of Thor's opponent and the Grandmaster started to announce him.

“Ladies and gentlemen I give you… your Incredible…” he trailed off, or at least you thought he did because before he could say the actual name the fighter burst through the doors and yelled, “HULK!”

The blood drained from Loki’s face next to you. “I’ve got to get off this planet,” he mumbled.

“Why what’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“The Grandmaster’s champion is an Avenger, just like Thor. And he’s defeated me.”

Down on the dirt Thor had looked up into your box and was yelling, “We know each other! He’s a friend from work.”

The Grandmaster’s mouth dropped open and he looked over at Loki, who was staring straight forward and clearing his throat.

Thor was making small talk with Hulk before you heard him look over and shout again, “Loki! Look who it is!”

You’d never seen Loki so nervous and afraid. You reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay.”

Down below Hulk was tired of hearing Thor talk and started running towards him. The fight was in full force and Loki was getting more nervous by the second. Hulk was in it to win it, and he wasn’t sure if his brother would be able to make it out. Surprisingly Thor was able to hit Hulk, sending him all across the barrier on the arena. The crowd was silent as Thor neared Hulk. He placed his hand in Hulk’s massive one and started speaking, but you couldn’t tell what he was saying.

They weren’t fighting and everyone was still and watching. Then Hulk grabbed Thor and swung him back and forth, hitting him against the ground countless times. Loki jumped up, startling you, and shouted, “Yes that’s how it feels!”

The Grandmaster looked over at him questionably and Loki responded with, “I’m just a huge fan of the sport.” The Grandmaster didn’t say anything, just turned back toward the arena and laughed.

Loki sat back down and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised, “What was that about?”

“Well… Hulk did that to me a few years ago.”

“Really?” you laughed.

“Yes. It wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he chuckled. You both settled back down on the couch and focused on the match again. The fight progressed and favor switched between Hulk and Thor for a minute or two. The Grandmaster and Loki were leaning in and cringing depending on the blow and who it had landed on. But things weren’t looking good for Thor. Hulk had him pinned down and was beating him to death.

Blow after blow was pounding down right on Thor’s face. Then something happened. You strained your eyes to see that Thor’s eyes began to glow and lighting began to glow and crackle all around his body. He seemed to gather his strength for a second, wind back his hand and land a punch right to Hulk, sending him flying with an arch of lightning, resulting in a collective gasp from the stands.

Hulk collapsed yards away from Thor. The Grandmaster raised out of his seat, stepped forward and stared at the scene below you. The crowd was murmuring and whispering all kinds of things. You looked over at Loki, who had his elbows propped up on his knees with his mouth wide open.

Thor and Hulk both stood up and ran towards each other, jumping and then hitting one another. It was like a mini-explosion where Thor’s fist collided with Hulk. You were on the edge of your seat. It seemed like Thor could win. The crowd sure seemed to think so because they were chanting, “Thunder! Thunder! Thunder!”

Your full attention was drawn on the arena and a perplexed expression crossed your face when Thor violently shook and then fell to the ground. You looked around and saw the Grandmaster pointing his activator down at Thor, activating his Obedience Disk. You couldn’t believe it. If the Grandmaster wouldn’t have interfered then Thor could have won. He could be freed.

The Grandmaster stood up with a smile and started his projection onto the center of the arena, “Well done! Well done! Two very good fighters, but it looks like my champion has defended his title once again. Thank you everyone for attending today, I hope to see you at the next battle!”

His projection disappeared and people started to file out of the stands. You could tell by the silence that followed that the Grandmaster wasn’t too happy. He walked out of the room followed by guards, leaving everyone else alone. Loki was leaning back on the couch next to you slack-jawed.

“That wasn’t fair,” you breathed out.

He shook his head, “No, no it wasn’t.”

“At least he didn’t die. He should be okay for now,” you said, talking about Thor.

“Thank god.”

You and Loki returned home and sat down on the living room couch. You never got the chance to talk about Thor’s arrival but now no one else was around.

“You might be leaving soon,” you said.

“I may.” Loki reached his hand over and took one of yours in his. You couldn’t mistake the sadness in his voice.

“I won’t make you stay. If you need to go then you should.” You looked at Loki with pure earnestness in your eyes. It hurt to say it, but if Loki and his brother needed to leave then you didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t.

“Y/N I don’t want to go. I want to stay here… with you.”

“What about your sister? Didn’t you say she was trying to take over Asgard, your home?” you questioned with a soft voice.

“Yes but- we don’t stand a chance. If we go we’ll only die. There’s no hope for us.”

You faced your whole body towards him and dipped your head down so Loki could see your face. “You don’t know that. You’re strong and I know you aren’t a coward.”

He stayed quiet but squeezed your hand and met your eyes.

“If you need to go, don’t let me hold you back,” you repeated.

Loki strained up and gave a stern look forward as he nodded his head. “You’re right. I do need to go. Asgard is my home.” He bent his head towards you and spoke, “But I want to make my time with you count.” He leaned in and tilted his head, eyes trained on your lips. You also leaned in and closed your eyes, letting yourself dissolve into the tender kiss.

It heated up quickly, pants filling the air between you every time you parted. You crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands glided from your shoulder blades to your butt, caressing you.

You pulled away and opened your eyes for a second, your face only inches from his. “Should we take this to my room?”

“Yes, we should.” Loki raised up, holding you in his arms and carrying you to your room. You slid out of his arms right in front of the foot of your bed. He started undressing, pulling off his cape, boots, and other components of his complicated outfit. Yours was much easier to get off. All you did was kick off your slippers and undo your dress in the back and let it pool at your feet.

The whole process took a few minutes and you giggled when you had to help Loki undress.

“This is a mood killer,” Loki sighed.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. You pulled off the last garment including Loki’s underwear and he turned around to let you see him. He was so beautiful, every single thing about him. You could definitely believe he was a god, because he sure looked like one. Your wandering eyes made him chuckle, but he couldn’t say anything because he was doing the same.

His hands hovered over your hips, almost like he was afraid to touch you or else you would crumble in front of him. You smiled up Loki and put your hands over his, guiding them to your bare skin. He sharply inhaled as he felt how smooth and warm your skin was. He let out a small laugh in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being so lucky as to have you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He lifted you up again and walked over to your bed until his knees hit the edge. He crawled on and lowered you down onto the fluffy pillows. Your body was on display for him and he was completely swooning over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

“And you,” you reached up and pulled him closer to you by his shoulders, “are very handsome.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Since he was already down there he crept lower and lower, placing gentle kisses from your cheek all the way down to your lower stomach. Your breath hitched as his breath fanned over your vagina. He gave it a small kiss before he leaned back. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, sliding them up and down your folds before inserting one.

He surveyed your face as he began to curl his finger making you start moaning quietly.

“Does it feel good?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” you moaned out.

He smiled and continued to work you up, building the pressure inside your lower stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tried to, but with all the new feelings going on you were squeezing them shut. Loki frowned and cupped your cheek with his hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Princess, will you look at me?” he asked. You opened your eyes and did as he asked. You kept your eyes open but your lids were only half open.

You loved the way his fingers felt but you wanted more- you wanted him. “Loki- Loki I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

He pulled his fingers out and wrapped that hand around his cock, pumping it and getting it ready to be inside you. He spread your legs further than they already were and walked forward on his knees until his tip was right against your entrance. You put his hand around it and guided it in slowly, letting you adjust to the length.

Your hands were on either side of your pillow and you were squeezing it. It wasn’t very painful, but it didn’t feel right to just have your hands open, so you clenched them around your silk pillowcase. Loki saw them and put his own hands on top of yours. As he rolled his hips into you that’s what kept him stable.

“Darling, you make me feel-” he moaned, “so good.”

The inside of you was warm and velvety, encasing his dick in a personal heaven. In just a few minutes he knew what was going to come. Him.

Loki was making you feel just as good as you were making him, if not better. You weren’t a virgin. You had lived long enough to want men and take them back home with you. But none of them were making you feel the way Loki was. He knew exactly what to do, what pace to go at, and all the right words to say. The gentle moans and vulnerable face were so beautiful above you that tears were staining your cheeks.

Worry crossed Loki’s face, he thought you were hurting. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“I’m fine, you’re just- you’re so beautiful.”

He choked out a laugh and regained his original pace. The compliment had warmed his entire body. He was on cloud nine. There was a growing sensation in his lower region and he could feel his orgasm coming.

“I’m about to cum,” he panted.

“Go ahead darling, cum for me,” you returned. His eyes widened but he went ahead, cock stiffening before releasing his cum.

You moaned, head falling to the side from the buzz traveling through your body. You arched your back in an attempt to hurry your own orgasm along. You could feel it approaching but it couldn’t get there soon enough for you. Loki thrusted faster and tried to hit that spot that he knew you had. He succeeded, and an overwhelming pleasure drifted through you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and your own juices squirted out. You sniffed and wiped your tears, opening your eyes to see Loki’s face in complete and utter amazement. You laughed a little as he pulled out of you and rolled over to be by your side.

“What was that face for?” you asked.

“That was the best I’ve ever felt. You are… perfect in every way.”

“I feel the same about you.” You turned on your side and placed a hand on his cheek, just like he had done to you a few minutes prior.

He nuzzled closer to you, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he whispered.

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded while stroking his hair.

Taglist: @deanscroissant

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[undercoveravenger]

Closing Cases

Written for my 2021 Halloween event

Pairing: EJ Caswell x Male!Detective!Reader

Prompt: EJ with a Nancy Drew/Scooby gang reader investigating something haunting the school and EJ steps up to help. With “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars” and “Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?”

A/N: This is prompt # 2 for my Halloween event! The next prompt will be posted Thursday, October 7th.

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East High was being faced by an unexplainable problem. Each night, lockers were being broken into and various class and club rooms had been found vandalized. The faculty had examined the footage from all of the security cameras near the areas that had been attacked, but weren’t able to see anyone in the videos; only that the halls looked normal in one frame, and had been trashed in the next.

As someone who had spent his entire childhood looking up to all of the great detectives, you took it upon yourself to get to the bottom of the situation. You had told Miss Jen, the theater teacher, that you’d be missing rehearsals one afternoon in order to conduct your investigation, but she had been the only person you told.

You supposed that was why it came as such a shock to find EJ Caswell, a popular senior and star of the water polo team and drama department, leaning against the locker beside yours after school.

You disregarded his presence, moving to open your locker and tuck away your textbooks.

“So I hear you’re not going to be at rehearsals today,” EJ said after a moment, turning to face you. “Care to share why?”

“I’ve got more important things to do,” you said easily. You knew it was kind of a weak response, but it was the first thing that’d come to mind.

He rolled his eyes, lips quirking up into a grin. “Yeah, we both do, I guess.”

That gave you pause. You turned to look at him incredulously, and you had to force yourself to ignore the way the amused glint in his pretty blue eyes threatened to make you smile. “Excuse me?”

“You’re investigating the break-ins, right?” EJ asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you.

“I’m not convinced that they have been break-ins, but yes,” you said, grabbing a different backpack entirely out of your locker and leaving the one with your school supplies in it before shutting the door. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me?” You turned away at that, making your way down the quickly emptying halls.

EJ scrambled to keep pace with you, weaving around the remaining students and faculty to stay at your side. “I want to help! I’ll be the first to say I don’t really have experience with investigations, but I want to help stop what’s going on.”

You let out a sigh, turning abruptly to face EJ. “Fine. You can help,” you held up a hand to interrupt him when he made to let out a victorious whoop, “But if you get in the way of my investigation, I will tell you to leave and you will listen. Do we have a deal?”

The brunet nodded vigorously, falling back into step beside you as you resumed your previous path, “Deal. So,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Where do we start?”

“Here,” you said as you came to a stop outside of a janitor’s closet on the second floor.

EJ’s brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “Our investigation starts at the janitor’s closet?”

You nodded, twisting the door open and entering the small room. You sat down, nestling your way between a set of shelves and several empty garbage cans. “Well, this is where we’ll be waiting until the time is right.”

“And when is that?” he asked as he crept into the closet with you, wincing as the door slammed closed behind him.

You snickered, pulling out your phone to set an alarm. “Well, the thief only strikes at night, right? They’ll probably emerge at around nine o’clock, which means we have,” you glanced back at your phone, “About five hours to kill.”

“Five hours?” EJ asked incredulously, blue eyes wide as he looked at you. “What the hell are we going to do for five hours?!”

“Well, I was going to play games on my phone since I wasn’t planning on having company until a few minutes ago,” you said, glancing pointedly down at the device. “You’re still more than welcome to leave, if you don’t want to wait?”

EJ shook his head stubbornly, shifting to sit with his back against the opposite wall from you. “No, but my phone definitely isn’t going to hold up for that long.” He paused, thinking, “Maybe we could play twenty questions while we wait?”

You shrugged, figuring that humoring a cute boy wouldn’t kill you. “Alright, sure. But since it was your idea, you have to go first.”

He smiled widely, clearly delighted that you’d agreed. “Okay!” He hesitated for a moment while he thought, but a question seemed to strike him pretty quickly. “So, do you make it a point to hang out in sketchy janitor’s closets often?”

You barely managed to bite back a snicker, but the upward tilt of EJ’s lips made you suspect that he knew about your poorly concealed amusement. “I do when my cases require it,” you said by means of explanation, but you found yourself elaborating further at the confused-puppy expression on his face. “Today’s a Tuesday, which means that the cleaning staff isn’t in tonight, so no one will be checking this closet for stragglers like they would the library or a classroom. Waiting in here means that I’ll be able to remain in the building after the doors are locked, which means that I’ll be able to find out if anyone else comes into the building after it’s locked down for the night.”

“Wow,” EJ said, eyes wide as he processed everything you’d just said. “You put a lot more planning into this than I would’ve thought?”

“What, you thought I’d just wing it?” you teased. You had to admit, you were enjoying his company far more than you had anticipated. “I like to think that I take my job pretty seriously.”

He gestured wildly with his hands, like he was trying to wave away his previous words. “No, no, no; that’s not what I meant- I meant that-” He cut himself off as he noticed you beginning to laugh, “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He faked offense, but the appearance of his dimples gave away his amusement. “Fine, you got me.” His grin widened as he looked at you, “Alright, Mr. Holmes, what’s your leading theory?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, “Currently? Vengeful spirits.”

EJ let out a surprised laugh. It was deep, uncontrollable and infectious, and you were helpless to hide the grin it brought to your face, though it faded after a moment, “You’re serious?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what else to think,” you started softly, fingers twisting nervously in your lap as you were forced to admit that, for once, you really weren’t sure about what the outcome of your case would be. “Any normal person would have been caught on camera, and the only people in this city that have the ability to manipulate the footage to make it look like no one was there either wouldn’t care enough to do it or they’ve got an alibi.”

EJ’s brows furrowed, “And none of them could have lied about the alibis?”

“Mr. Mazzara could’ve, I suppose,” you mused, “But I double-checked it with Miss Jenn and it sounds legit.”

“So ghosts then, huh?” he prompted, scooting a little closer to you until his knees brushed lightly against yours. “Seems like a little bit of a leap in logic.”

You shrugged helplessly, a tired grin forming on your lips, “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars. Ghosts weren’t the least probable option, if I’m being honest.”

“How would you even get rid of a ghost-” He stopped as the rest of your statement caught up to him, “Wait, you’ve had fifty candy bars?!”

“Just the little ones.” You said, waving off his concern and checking the time on your phone. “Depends on the type of spirit, but I’ve talked to some sophomores who practice witchcraft and they say that sage and pure intention to banish it should take care of whatever we’re seeing, as long as it’s a normal ghost or spirit. I just want to eliminate any other options before I take action.”

“Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?” EJ demanded, taking your phone from you and setting it aside so he could get you to focus on him, “You’ve gotta take better care of yourself,” he said quietly, normally bright eyes turned stormy with concern, “You’ve got a lot of people that care about you-”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Like who?” At his stunned silence, you pressed on, “Everyone at this school thinks I’m a weirdo. You don’t think I’ve heard people call me Scooby-Doo or Nancy Drew or Sherlock?” You shook your head, pushing yourself to your feet as your frustration mounted, “This was a mistake. I’m leaving; I’ll solve this case on my own.”

“Wait,” EJ exclaimed, shooting up to his feet and grabbing your wrist to stop you from going. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m wrong?” you asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at EJ. “About what part?”

He nodded seriously, eyes locked with yours, “About no one caring about you and about everyone thinking you’re weird.” He took a deep breath, and, for the first time since he’d joined your investigation, you watched his confident facade falter. “I care about you,” he started softly, like he was afraid to finally say it. “And I really like that you’re so passionate about solving mysteries.”

Your brows furrowed as you turned to look back at him, “You… like that?”

“I like you,” he said, so quiet that he was barely audible, but when you didn’t pull away he continued, volume picking up as he did so, “I really like you and I can’t believe I get to help you do something I love, and that probably sounds pretty dumb since we don’t really know each other that well, but I would really like to get to know you better and maybe even take you out to dinner sometime if that’s okay with you?”

It took you a long moment to find your voice again. “Okay,” you found yourself saying as you tugged your wrist from his grip to link your fingers with his instead. “Okay,” A wide smile spread across EJ’s face and you could feel an answering one as it tugged at your lips, “When we close this case, I’ll let you take me on a date.”

“Really?” he asked, like he almost expected you to tell him it was some cruel joke. He let out a breathless laugh when you nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?” he asked joyfully, tugging you towards the door by your joined hands. “We’ve got a case to solve!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you were led out into the long-abandoned halls of East High, glad to have finally found someone who matched you. After all, all the greats came in pairs; Daphne had Fred, Sherlock had Watson, and now you had EJ.

#ej caswell x male!reader #ej caswell x male reader #male reader x ej caswell #male!reader x ej caswell #ej caswell x reader #reader x ej caswell #hsmtmts x male!reader #hsmtmts x male reader #hsmtmts x reader #male reader x hsmtmts #male!reader x hsmtmts #male reader insert #male!reader insert #male!reader #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader x #halloween event #high school musical the musical the series x male reader

[the-badger-mole]

Can you write a short story with a jealous Zuko?

PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE

Zuko was used to being overshadowed. By Azula; by Lu Ten; by Avatar Aang. It still often annoyed him to know that the most he could aim for was second best to someone else, no matter where he was. But he never minded when it came to Katara. Give her enough time, Zuko often told himself, and she could bring the entire world to its knees. She'd saved his life in more ways than he could count. She had saved them all, and there would never be enough people singing her praises as far as Zuko was concerned. She stood out no matter where she was. Even in spaces where the Fire Lord should have been the center of attention, Zuko knew he didn't stand a chance when Master Katara entered the room.

It should have annoyed him, Zuko thought, but it didn't. She was sunshine, for all she was a child of Water, and she drew everyone towards her like plants reaching up for Agni's rays. When she laughed, it filled the room- a bit too loud to be polite, but too infectious to really be upset over. She talked with high-ranking nobles with passion, leaving them stunned at her knowledge and convictions- this woman who was barely not a child anymore. She had earned the grudging respect of Zuko's council, which even he hadn't succeeded in doing. He should be jealous, but he watched Katara make her way around the room with pride. Maybe he wasn't as eloquent or magnetic as Katara, but he was her friend. He knew her in a way few- if any- in that room would ever know her.

Someone- Iroh, Zuko guessed- had signaled for the band to start playing. Business was done for the day. Soon the crowd had reshuffled itself, and couples began making their way to the dance floor while everyone else made their way to the buffet tables lining one end of the hall. Katara met Zuko's eyes across the room, and with a warm smile, made her way over to him. She seemed to glow supernaturally. Zuko cast a surreptitious glance to see if some prankster had aimed a spotlight on her. Was it just Zuko? How was no one else being blinded by the way the light reflected off her smile? Her hair? Her skin? Zuko swallowed hard, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.

Katara's smile widened and she opened her mouth to greet him.

"Excuse...um...p-pardon me." Katara turned in surprise to the young man who had approached her. Zuko recognized him vaguely, and he scrambled to place a name. Katara spared him the ordeal of guessing.

"Lord Jee-Soo," she smiled politely at King Kuei's cousin, though Zuko could see an odd tightness in the corners of Katara's eyes. Jee Soo, however, did not notice. His face was tinged pink and he leaned forward in a stiff, formal bow.

"I-I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said. "I was hoping that...that maybe you...er, that is...would you grant me the honor of a dance."

Zuko froze. A shock went down his spine as if someone had walked across a carpet and touched his skin. Katara gaped at him in surprise. Her cheeks flushed a pretty dusky red. Jee Soo smiled at her, nervous and hopeful. She cast a glance at Zuko, trying to communicate... something.

"Oh!" Katara gasped. "Well... I was just going to..." She cast another look at Zuko before she shrugged and smiled at Jee Soo. "Um... sure, I'd love to."

Zuko watched silently as Jee Soo wrapped a clammy-looking hand around Katara's and led her out to the dance floor. His hand squeezed his punch cup dangerously tight as Jee Soo slid his arm around Katara's waist and pulled her as close as propriety would allow. His breath caught in his throat as the young Earth Kingdom noble said something that caused Katara's nose to crinkle in amusement.

"Take care, Fire Lord Zuko," Iroh sidled up to his nephew, with an affable smile and a knowing gleam in his eye. "Someone might think there's trouble between the Fire Nation and Ba Sing Se the way you're glaring at young Lord Jee Soo."

"I'm not glaring!" Zuko insisted hotly. Still, he turned his scowl on his uncle instead.

"She would have danced with you if you'd asked," Iroh told him. "I'm sure she still would."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Zuko grumbled.

"Oh no?" Iroh tried unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. "My mistake. It's been a long time since I was young and in love. Perhaps I don't remember the signs as well as I thought."

"Perhaps not!" Zuko knew he was being peevish, but his uncle was overstepping. Zuko had admitted to having a small crush on Katara years ago, and Iroh had never forgotten, even though Zuko had gotten over her a long time ago. She was dating one of his best friends at the time.

But not anymore.

The traitorous, smug voice in his head sounded annoyingly like his uncle. It was true that Katara had broken up with Aang, but it made no difference. Even if he wasn't over Katara- and he was over her- she and Aang hadn't split on the best of terms. It wouldn't be fair to either of his friends for Zuko to insert himself in the middle of that.

On the dance floor, Jee Soo seemed to have gained some confidence. He twirled and spun Katara with expert ease. If Katara had been hesitant to dance with him before, she seemed happy enough now. Her eyes were bright and her face pink with the exertion of the dance. She was having a good time, and Jee Soo gazed at her as if half in love already.

Zuko could dance. He could dance at least as well as Jee Soo. Others may outshine him in literally every other part of his life, but Zuko's mastery of dance was part of what made the Blue Spirit so deadly. Maybe he could challenge Jee Soo to a friendly competition. Katara could be the judge. Maybe the first prize could be a kiss...

Zuko shook his head. Dangerous territory. She was just coming out of a serious relationship. With one of his best friends. True they had broken up almost a year ago. Also true that Aang hadn't been in close contact with any of them since the breakup. And there was speculation that things had ended because Aang had cheated. But Zuko didn't know that for sure. No one knew for sure except Katara and Aang. Suki probably had more of the story, which Toph probably bullied out of her. And Sokka at least suspected if his coldness towards Aang at the last summit was any indication.

Dangerous territory. Friends don't go after a friend's exes. Even if you happened to have had a thing for said ex before your friend started dating them. Even if that ex was also your best friend.

Jee Soo dipped Katara, causing her to let out a nervous, but giddy laugh. Her hands clutched at Jee Soo tightly, to keep herself steady, but as a result, they were much closer than they started at the beginning of the dance. Jee Soo's face lit up with a grin as he did it again. And again. And again.

Didn't this guy know any other moves? Katara was going to catch on to him, and she would be annoyed. Wouldn't she? Zuko knew she'd been out with a couple of other guys since the breakup. Nothing serious, though, Suki had informed him. No one who lasted more than a month. Still, Zuko wasn't sure what her type was anymore. Jee Soo reminded Zuko a bit of Aang, but just because Katara had dated Aang for three years doesn't mean he was her type. Maybe she was into quieter guys who got way too deep in their own heads and overthought hypothetical situations until they lost entire nights of sleep worrying about problems that didn't actually exist. Yeah...for sure that's what Katara would find attractive.

How long was this song, Zuko wondered. Jee Soo was dipping Katara again, though she seemed to be getting tired of it. Her smile was that polite, tight smile that she'd given him earlier when she wasn't sure she wanted him to interrupt her. Zuko saw her say something to him, probably asking him to keep her upright for a while. Jee Soo laughed and shook his head and said something teasing as he pulled her closer. Katara's smile fell away completely, and Zuko saw she was getting mad. He was halfway across the dance floor before he'd even realized he was going to go over. He was ready to yank Jee Soo away, and if necessary, deck the creep for not respecting Katara's reasonable wish. But before he got to them, Jee Soo had stepped away with a deep, embarrassed blush on his face.

"I'm so sorry," Jee Soo was saying as Zuko got closer. "Honestly, I was just trying to...well, I didn't mean to upset you or offend you."

"It's alright, Jee Soo," Katara said patiently. Her smile was back in place. The song ended, finally, and another one started up.

"Would you...like to dance again?" Jee Soo asked.

"I'm a bit tired," Katara begged off. "But I'll bet Kimiko would love you to ask her. Don't say I told you, but she's been checking you out." That didn't seem to soothe Jee Soo's disappointment, but he accepted the rejection graciously enough.

"Seems like you had fun," Zuko said. Katara sighed tiredly and slipped her arm through his.

"I thought the song would never end!" she groaned. "It was like dancing with Aang. Fun for the first minute, but he was doing way too much. All the dipping gave me vertigo." Zuko heard that with interest.

"I didn't realize you weren't having fun," he tried to keep his voice even as he led them away from the dance floor over to the punch table. "I would have come rescue you if I'd realized. We should come up with some sort of sign when you want me to cut in."

"You never dance at these things," Katara pointed out.

"I'd make an exception for you." Zuko blushed and scrambled to cover. "I mean, I'd do it if it saved you from some over-eager guy who can't take a hint."

"My hero." Katara scrunched her nose up at Zuko and leaned against him. It was adorable! Zuko had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.

"Actually..." Katara said slowly. "I was coming over to ask you to dance before Jee Soo interrupted."

"Really?" Zuko's voice hit an octave it hadn't hit since he was fourteen and his voice was still dropping. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the fact that Katara was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Yeah," she nodded her head. "I know you don't really like dancing, but maybe you can preemptively cut in for me? Someone told me that Lord Hino's son wanted to ask me for a dance." Zuko grimaced. Lord Hino was one of his most trusted advisors, but his son was a famous klutz with two left feet. No woman left the dance floor without bruised feet when she danced with him.

"You told Jee Soo you were tired," Zuko reminded her. Why, he yelled internally, would he say that? Fortunately, Katara just shrugged and looked up at him coyly from the corner of her eye.

"I'd make an exception for you," she said quietly. Zuko froze midstep. Katara looked up at him in alarm. There was a spectacular blush rising from her neck towards her hairline, and a panicked retraction already on her lips. Zuko turned to her and took her hand. Then in a move that would have pleased every last one of his etiquette tutors and his uncle, if he was watching, Zuko bowed elegantly and brushed a feathery light kiss on Katara's fingertips. He lifted his gaze with an impish grin.

"I would be honored," he said, "to have this dance." Katara nodded speechlessly and allowed Zuko to lead her out to the dance floor again.

Zuko was used to being overshadowed. He wasn't the most powerful bender, or the most charismatic leader. He wasn't the most handsome man or the most eloquent. But there on the dancefloor, with the most beautiful woman in at the ball in his arms, he knew that no one could match him for dancing. Katara seemed to agree because she accepted his request for another dance. And another. And another...

#zutara #atla #zuko is a lil' jelly #katara is a queen #zuko is sprung #ask the badger mole #thanks for the prompt nonny

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 3 – Kids' Games To Pass The Time

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5,399

New day, new problems. Sure things aren't the worst they could be, but that new hire isn't making things all that easy at work.

Last Chapter | Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

An annoying, rhythmic buzz cut through silence. Light seeped its way in, chasing away the shadows of sleep. You groaned and rolled. It was too early to face the new day.

Compounding your groggy state was the fact you didn't sleep for shit last night. The chilly October night sucked the warmth from your room, and you had only a few blankets to shield yourself from it. And the chill didn't stop your mind racing most of the night. When sleep came to you, it brought restless dreams.

The first wasn't terrible, just strange. A weird bug followed you home wanting to be friends. The other dream, however... A vile pit formed in your stomach.

Your thoughts drifted to the dream. You couldn't move. Arms, legs, head, nothing. You couldn't budge an inch no matter how hard you fought. Something wanted you to stay still. And it wasn't as if your surroundings gave you any clues either. Darkness blanketed the room. No details, just a barren inky void. The only thing you found with you was a set of pinprick lights.

A voice spoke. It whispered beautiful words coated in honey. Your guts twisted. A warm touch held your face, and the voice asked you a question. Your words caught in your throat. The entity glared at you with icy eyes, and the sweet words soured to a nasty venom.

You clutched your chest as the memory of searing heat replayed. It sank blazing claws into your waist and arm, blistering and cooking the flesh.

You drew in shaky breaths and wiped away the leftover tears. It was just a dream. It was just a bad dream. You're safe.

You took in one more breath before getting up to start your day.

Normally you would go straight to the bathroom, but you wanted to check something. You stepped out into the main living space and found it empty. A DVD case sat on the coffee table, but the TV screen was dark. The couch laid devoid of any unexpected house guests. No sign anyone else was ever there. Your heart sank as you realized the encounter you remembered was just another dream cooked up by your tired brain. A frown pulled at your lips and you sighed. No time to mope. You needed to get ready for work.

You opened the bathroom door and peered inside. Rigel napped on the top of the toilet's water tank, surrounded by shredded toilet paper. At least it was less of a mess than yesterday. You clean up the ribbons and tossed them in the garbage under the sink. After you topped off his food and water, you hopped in the shower.

The water in your apartment only ever got up to lukewarm on a good day. And that was not a good day. Frigged rain pelted you, giving you goosebumps. Not wanting to linger, you got out and dressed a few minutes later.

You combed your fingers through your hair as you looted the kitchen. Damn cat, why'd it have to throw up on your hairbrush? You grumbled to yourself and pulled out the off-brand cereal to fix breakfast.

"What 'cha doing, babes?" A voice from nowhere spoke in your ear.

Your knees buckle and you collapse, taking the bag of cereal with you. You gripped at your chest to still your heart, and rolled to sit with your back to the cabinets. A man in a rotting striped suit floated in your kitchen, clutching his rounder stomach as he cackled.

"Oh sweets, that's great! I wasn't even trying!"

As the shock fades, your features scrunched up. You got to your feet and tossed the bag on the counter. With crossed arms you pivot to glare at the ghost, still laughing his ass off.

"Giving me a heart attack first thing in the morning," you said with a huff, "I came out here and you were gone. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing, you jerk."

"So you're saying you missed me?" He batted his eyes at you, setting your cheeks on fire. You would not dignify that with a response. Instead, you turned back to the counter and fixed your breakfast.

"Where did you go then?" you asked and riffled through the silverware drawer for a spoon.

"I was checking on your neighbors. Did you know the guys a few doors down have a shit-ton of electronics?"

"Yeah, and old lady Smith has a garden in her closet."

"Really? Which one is she in? I didn't find that."

"She's on the third floor, but don't bug her too much. She's nice. Plus she bakes amazing cookies for me whenever I help her."

You scarfed your breakfast, and double checked you had everything done. Rigel was in the bathroom with his things. You had your wallet and phone. After you finished the last bite, you set the bowl in the sink along with the one from last night.

You rinsed out the bowl and hummed to yourself before you glanced over your shoulder to the ghost. He grinned at you with a tilt of his head. You gave him a small smile, only to frown.

"I have to head to work."

That simple sentence wiped the grin from his face. His shoulders sank, and the color of his hair shifted. A dull purple seeped in and overtook the green. That couldn't be a good sign. "You're leaving me here?"

"Well, you could stay here, or..."

"Or?"

"If you can be out of the way and let me focus on my work when I need to, then you could tag along with me. It’d be nice having someone other than my boss to talk to during the downtime."

His grin stretched across his face again, and he spun up to you, batting his eyes. "Oh babes, you do care! Of course I'll go with you! Not my idea for a first date, but I'll take it."

You pressed your lips tight. Was this a mistake? Not like you can take back the offer, though. That would crush him. You let out a long sigh and rubbed at your temple.

"Not a date, dude."

"If you say so," he purred.

You shook your head and grabbed the keys before heading to the car. The ghost trailed you, with an ever present chill at your side. On the way to the car, he pointed out each of the apartments and spilled whatever secrets he found out. You had an inkling of some of your neighbors' crimes, but you weren't one to go tattling. It was best to let them deal with their lives and you deal with yours. So you ended up nodding along to what the ghost told you.

When you got to your car, you sat behind the wheel for a moment. Once your ghostly friend floated into the passenger seat, you took in a breath.

"Okay. A few things before we get there," You said as you fought to start the car, "If either my boss or a customer comes up and needs to talk to me, I would appreciate it if you hang back for a minute and let me handle them. Otherwise, I mostly just front-face merchandise and I can talk with you so long as I'm quiet. Also, I take my lunches in the cemetery, so I can talk a bit more freely there."

"Sounds good to me, toots."

You rolled your eyes and got the hunk of junk started. The car protested with clangs, but you drove off with a little more of a fight. On the scenic drive to work he asked you to turn on the radio, which got a dry laugh from you.

"What's so funny?"

"Radio's broke. Most things in this car are broken. Radio, heater, a/c. All of them are broken."

"Can't you get a new one? There's cars all over the place, just take one."

"Th-this isn't Grand Theft Auto,"

"It will be once you take a car!"

"Okay, technically true. I meant this isn't the game GTA, this is real life. And I would get arrested."

"Not if you had help from the ghost with the most!"

You rolled your eyes and turned onto the main road, heading for work. The rest of the drive, the "ghost with the most" filled the air with his own voice, singing a medley of songs. Some of them you recognized, others you suspected he made up on the spot.

You pulled into the employee parking and parked your car alongside the two much nicer ones there. As you collected your things, Beetlejuice pointed to the sleek mustang.

"That car looks fun! We should steal a car like that!"

"I'm pretty sure that's Brandon's car. I'm not stealing my coworker's car to take for a joyride."

"But it would be so cool!"

"Maybe later," you said, stepping out of your junker.

The bell chimed as you entered the store and caught your boss's attention. He came over to greet you and made sure you were doing better. You gave a small laugh and rubbed at the back of your neck.

"Yeah, I'm doing better." You glanced sidelong to the ghost wandering over to the front counter.

"Good. Now hopefully I can focus on training Brandon without as many interruptions. He keeps breaking away to chat with every customer that comes into the store. So I need you to handle the customers so he doesn't have an excuse."

"Got it. And if you need help with him, I can always smack some sense into him. The new order of mallets is in the back, right?"

Mr. Turner laughed and turned to go back to teaching Brandon. You smiled to yourself and meandered over to the counter. Your ghost pal sat on the countertop next to the computer.

"You never mentioned you get to hit people at your job, any openings?"

"Sorry, spot's filled. For now, anyway. But who knows, maybe we'll need a replacement soon."

"Save it for me. I would kill to get to hang around a pretty little breather like you all day and get paid for it. But doing that for free is nice too."

"You're a shameless flirt."

"How can a sexy beast like me not be with you around and able to see me?"

You shook your head and glanced at the computer. There was something you wanted to look up, you were sure of it. But what was it? You stepped closer and opened a new tab for the search. It sat blank for a moment as you retraced what the topic could have been.

"What are ya doing, babes?"

"I can't remember what I wanted to search for."

"One hundred great ways to skin a cat?"

You raised a brow and frowned at him. "I'm not hurting Rigel." A light flicked on in your head.

You typed in the cat's name and clicked on the page for the star. A picture of the Orion constellation to the side of the page showed off the stars. Most of them had fancy looking letters next to them, with a few having numbers attached. Rigel marked the lower right star, while the upper left was the only other star with a word.

"Beh-tell? Goose? Wait..." You jerked your head over to the ghost, who wore a Cheshire grin. "That's how you spell your name?"

"Yep. That's me. Behtellgoose."

You read the name once more. Betelgeuse. Such a strange spelling to sound like beetle-juice. Kind of cool though. You smiled and closed out of the tab when an unfamiliar voice called out to you.

"Good morning, Art. Great to see you doing better!"

"Heh, yeah. Feeling better." You forced a tight-lipped smile to prevent yourself from frowning. Brandon stayed still with his own fake smile plastered on his face. After a beat of him not saying anything, you asked, "Do you need something?"

"You forgot to go grab your apron. What if a customer came in? That would look very unprofessional. Here, I'll watch the counter and you can go grab your apron."

The corner of your mouth twitched, and you took in a deep breath. You stepped away and grabbed your stupid apron. As you threw it on, the bell chimed. You rushed back out, hoping to catch the customer before Brandon.

The counter stood unattended and you found Brandon down one aisle with a woman discussing products. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Isn't that what your boss wanted you to stop him from doing?"

"Yes, Beetle, it is."

You hissed out a sigh and shook your head. As you walked over to them, you prepared yourself to speak in your chipper customer service voice. Brandon insisted he could take care of the customer, only for Mr. Turner to order him to get back to training. Brandon grimaced and stepped away to let you take over.

Your smile was easier to keep on your face after that. You helped the customer find what she needed and rang up her items. She left with a wave and you went back to the computer.

"What the hell is that guy's deal?" Betelgeuse asked, gesturing with a thumb to Brandon.

"I don't know. I don't know if I really care." You leaned back onto your heels and let your mind wander. Whenever you were alone, stuck at the counter, you always pulled up simple web games on the computer to pass the time. But with Betelgeuse there, you couldn't ignore him to play games.

"What are ya thinking about, sweets? How hot it would be to make out right now?"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "No, you flirt. I'm thinking of what we can do to pass the time. All I'm coming up with are twenty questions and I spy."

"I'm fine with that," he said as he flashed you a sharp grin. "Okay, I'll start. I spy with my rotten eye, something... metal."

"Well, that narrows it down."

The two of you spent the rest of the morning going, taking turns playing those silly kids' games. Betelgeuse huffed and whined whenever a customer, or worse, Brandon, pulled you away to help them. Any time you called him out on his grumbling, he denied it as the color in his hair shifted.

He caught you staring at his hair once or twice, which exacerbated the shifting colors. Each time that happened, Betelgeuse quickly picked up whichever game you two had been playing. You left the topic alone for the moment, but stashed it away to ask about later.

Halfway into a difficult game of twenty questions, Mr. Turner came up to the counter. You ignored Betelgeuse's smug punchable face and greeted your boss, hoping your frustration didn't bleed into your tone.

"Cass, I'm stepping out for a bit to pick up something. I should be back for you to take your lunch break. Keep an eye on the store and Brandon for me, while I'm gone, okay?"

"Got it. Burn down the place and leave no evidence. Can do."

He shook his head with a laugh. Mr. Turner said, "you turd," before he waved goodbye and left the shop.

"Ooh baby, I love you talking about crimes like that! Tell me how you'd light up the place."

You turned back to the ghost. He floated with his stomach parallel to the ground as he held his scruffy chin in his hands and swung his legs pointed upward. You laughed at the dork and smiled.

"Well, the kerosene is over there, and the rolls of rags are an aisle over. There's a blow torch with some of the other tools."

"Artemis!" You whipped your attention to the stick in the mud, frowning at you. You didn't even get the chance to speak. "That kind of talk is highly unprofessional! Going over ways to burn down the store, shame on you."

"I was joking dude, it's not—"

"Well, I don't find that funny. And you shouldn't address your elders as 'dude', it is very disrespectful."

"Alright, I'm sorry."

"Good. Now I need your help."

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Brandon motioned for you to follow him, and once he turned back, you brought two fingers to your temple and jerked your head away.

In the middle of a tedious and painful walkthrough of creating an order of paint, the bell rang. Brandon broke away the second it chimed and went straight to helping the customer. That was irritating enough, but after the regular said they didn't need any help, Brandon insisted on assisting them.

You took in a deep breath and let the man dig his own grave. If he doesn't value your help, then he's not getting it. You marched back to the counter and found Betelgeuse picking his teeth.

He licked a striped tongue over his sharp teeth then said, "What a douchebag."

"Tell me about it."

The customer came up to the counter a minute later, followed by Brandon. You greeted the regular and switched the computer over to its register display. Your new coworker nudged you aside and insisted on being the one to ring up the customer.

"Artemis, you should have stayed at the paint desk. I'll meet you back there in a minute, after I help this gentleman."

You wanted nothing more than to slap that man. Who the hell does he think he is? Calling you unprofessional and pulling stunts like that? You grit your teeth and forced a smile before excusing yourself to head back to the paint desk.

Betelgeuse floated after you and lounged on top of the desk. You spared him a glance, but stuck to pacing the small paint pit, waiting for that douche-canoe to get back there. The customer didn't even have a lot of things to buy, so it shouldn't take Brandon that long.

"That freaking jerk," you said under your breath, "I can't believe Mr. Turner hired a guy like that."

"Want me to kill him?"

"Tempting, but no. I'm just going to talk to my boss when he gets back." You checked your phone for the time. A quarter after one, which means only fifteen more minutes until your lunch break. "God, I hope he's here soon."

You tapped your nails against the metal top of the tint machine, the speed of which accelerated the longer you waited. What the hell was taking him so long? Did another customer show up? This was getting infuriating.

"You sure you don't want me to kill the guy?"

"No, Beetle, I don't want you to do that."

"Art, who are you talking to?"

You turned around to the voice. Brandon stood at the threshold of the paint pit with his hand on his hips and raised a brow at you. Your face burned as you laughed, attempting to cover up your embarrassment.

"Oh, just this annoying little beetle. It was crawling under the tint dispenser."

"Do you regularly talk to disgusting bugs?" he asked. You opened your mouth to speak, only for Brandon to keep talking. "It doesn't matter. You shouldn't act so childish. How old are you? Late teens?"

"No, Brandon, I'm closer to my thirties than my teens."

"And you're talking to bugs, where any customer can come up and see that behavior. You ought to grow up and act your age, Artemis."

The bell chimed again, and you shuffled to the side to get an unobstructed view of the front. Mr. Turner stepped in with a smile and a wave. You waved back and checked the clock on the computer. One twenty-seven, perfect. You pulled your apron's strings and took it off in a swift motion.

"Where do you think you're going, Artemis?"

"Lunch."

Brandon frowned, and you folded up your apron with a smile. He probably wanted to stop you from leaving, but that shit would not fly with the boss back. Betelgeuse hopped down from his spot on the counter and followed. You tossed your apron behind the front counter and greeted Mr. Turner. After a quick rundown of what had happened, you left for your break, with a quick stop to your car to grab your food.

On the walk to the cemetery, Betelgeuse mocked the stupid things Brandon said. He was dead on with his impression, too.

"Artemis, do you think I give a shit? I'm a giant douche with a stick up my ass! There's no fun allowed in the store."

You did your best to hold back your laughter, but that only caused you to snort. A laugh roared out next to you in Betelgeuse's voice. You covered your mouth with your free hand, but that couldn't stop your shoulders from bouncing. As the two of you crossed into the graveyard, you glanced sidelong at the ghost, who shot you a grin.

In the cemetery, devoid of any other visitors, you veered towards your usual spot, off in the corner and near the front gate. You sat on the stone bench, setting your lunch beside you. Betelgeuse, however, sat on a gravestone, with his feet propped up on the one next to it.

You opened up your small bag of chips and started snacking on them. Betelgeuse looked over from picking at his nails and raised a brow at you.

"That's all you're going to eat, babes?"

"I have a granola bar too."

You grabbed the other half of your lunch and showed him. He tilted his head with a frown, but said nothing. It grew quiet, save for your munching on the chips. Your mind wandered, and you zoned out, staring unfocused in a random direction. Betelgeuse moved, catching your eye, and you studied him.

He gnawed at his black nails with jagged yellow teeth. Stubble covered his round chin, matching the same green mixed in his hair. Has his stubble changed color like his hair has? And why did his hair change color to begin with?

You hummed to yourself after finishing the last of your chips.

"What's up, sweets?"

"I... was hoping to ask you something."

Betelgeuse tilted his head to the other side and raised a brow and pursed his lips. You gave a half smile and laughed. He looked like a curious puppy. How could this ghost-demon look so cute?

"What is it?"

"I've noticed that your hair isn't always green." 

As soon as the sentence left your mouth, the color of his hair shifted to a deep purple. You shrank back as your stomach twisted into knots. Even without knowing what the colors meant, the frown on his face and sudden dodging of eye contact weren't good signs. On no. You messed up, didn't you? Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. Forget I ever mentioned it."

You dug your nails into your palms and turned your gaze to your knees. Betelgeuse produced a mix of a growl and a groan, and you peered up at him through your hair. His lips pulled into an almost smile as he kept sharp eyes pointed at his hands, where he raked his nails through the hair of one.

"I might as well tell you, you'd figure it out eventually. My hair changes color with my mood."

You dared to lift your head more. Your lips parted as your brain processed the new information.

"Like a chameleon?"

"Like what?"

He tilted his head and raised a brow as his nose wrinkled. You forced out a small laugh and smile as you wrung your wrists. "A chameleon, the little lizards that change color. It's to communicate their mood. Darker colors like black are when it's stressed, neutral tones are when it's calm, and vibrant greens, or reds can be excitement or aggression."

Betelgeuse lurched forward with a growl and ran his hands through his hair, shielding the deepening purple from view. Your stomach twisted into knots. This wasn't getting better. You parted your lips only to press them shut a second later. Why did you have to screw up and bring up his hair in the first place?

Your nails dug deeper into your palms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"If you're going to strip a guy naked like that, babes, you could at least buy me dinner first."

Your face wrinkled as you tilted your head at him. Betelgeuse still held himself curled and closed off, but he wore a weak crooked smile. Your lips twitched, and you huffed out a dry laugh.

"Alright, we can go through the drive thru to get a few things off the dollar menu."

"Ooh! I wanna try one of those green sludgy shake things from that Old MacDonald place."

"Sorry to break this to you, but they only sell those in March."

"What? That's lame!"

"Everything is pumpkin spice right now."

He pouted and crossed his arms with a huff. Despite the childish act, the purple in his hair faded back to a muted green. You chuckled to yourself as relief washed over you. With a soft smile, you grabbed the other half of your lunch and hummed before you opened it.

"Hey Beetle."

"Hmm?"

"I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to, but I wanted to say I think your chameleon hair is pretty cool. Like, is it magic? Or is it a demon thing? Or—sorry. I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it now. Sorry."

Your eyes darted to focus on your granola bar. You fumbled with tearing open the packaging for a second, only for the wrapper to give. The force sent your food tumbling to the ground. You stared at the broken bar and heaved out a sigh. Just wonderful.

Your pocket buzzed, veering your attention to it. You pulled out your phone and checked the caller id. Unknown number. Chills cascaded down as you stared at the phone.

"Something wrong, babes?"

"Nope. Everything's fine. Just some spam call."

You shoved it back into your pocket and let it ring. If the caller wanted anything, they can leave a voicemail. Besides, you needed to get back to work.

You picked up your trash and nodded your head to the gate. Betelgeuse hopped up and floated alongside you. After a few steps out of the cemetery, your phone rang again. Every fiber in you tensed up, but you left your phone in your pocket. The third time your phone rang, Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Who the hell keeps calling you?"

You shrugged and laughed despite your dry throat. "Who knows? I have to get back to work though."

With a hurried pace, you made it back to the store in a few minutes. The bell swung, chiming away as you beeline for your apron behind the counter. Brandon stood at the register with a phone up to his ear.

"There you are, Art! I've been calling you and you never once answered!" Brandon frowned at you and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. "You're obligated to pick up if I or Mr. Turner ever need to call you."

"O-oh, that was you calling." A small breath escapes passed your lips and you relax, only to register what he said. "Wait, how did you even get my number? I've only ever given this number to Sam and Mr. Turner."

"Why does it matter how I got your number? The issue is; if work calls you, especially if you have a shift that day, you need to answer."

"Fine, okay. I'll save your number so I don't panic again when I'm called three times in a row."

"Oh please, three phone calls make you panic? Artemis, you're an adult. You should know better than to be worried about something as simple as a phone call."

You grit your teeth and smiled. This conversation wasn't going anywhere you wanted, and you didn't plan on sticking around. You threw on your apron and marched to a far corner of the store to get away from everyone. Well, save for the ghost haunting you.

"Wow, babes, that guy is a major piece of work."

"Piece of shit is more like it."

You grabbed at products on the shelf and pulled them forward, turning the labels when needed. If you looked busy, maybe Brandon would mind his own fucking business. You clenched your jaw and growled as you brought more things forward.

"I shouldn't be worried about phone calls? What the fuck does he know? He's never had to put up with the shit I have!"

"And what shit would that be, babes?"

You glanced up to the ghost laying on his stomach across the top of the aisle shelving. Betelgeuse tilted his head. Soft and earnest curiosity graced his features. The corner of your mouth twitched before you closed your eyes and let out a hiss.

"I don't want to get into it," you said, keeping your voice quiet, "but I've had someone call me over and over before. It wasn't fun."

You pulled the rest of the items forward within arm's reach before sidestepping to get more. Betelgeuse floated after you as you inched down the aisle. He picked the games back up, and you welcomed the distraction.

There were one or two rounds of I spy, several goes at twenty questions—which you're positive Betelgeuse cheated and switched his topic multiple times. Towards the end of your shift, well after Brandon left for the day, you two asked a few "would you rather" questions. While he asked a few risque questions at the start—bite or be bitten, top or bottom—his questions took a tamer turn, similar to the ones you asked.

"Okay babe, would you rather find a rat in the kitchen or a roach in your bed?"

"I mean... I guess I'd prefer seeing another rat in the kitchen over finding more roaches?"

"M-more?"

"Donna hires her incompetent nephew to do the pest control for the apartments." You swept the line of dirt into the pan and tossed it into the trash. "Actually, speaking of, I should double check the traps and make sure something isn't rotting somewhere in the apartment."

Betelgeuse watched you finish the last of the closing routine. You clicked the pan back around the neck of the broom and stuffed it into a corner behind the counter. The only thing left was Mr. Turner to finish locking up the cash and heading out. You leaned against the counter and rolled your head back to look at the ceiling.

A quiet stillness overtook the store. It lasted a few seconds before Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Would you rather have a nicer place but the same landlady, or the same apartment with a nicer landlady—"

"Alright Cass, you ready to leave?"

You turned your attention from the unseen ghost to your boss. He smiled and gestured to the door. You returned a half smile before exiting. Mr. Turner locked up, and you waved goodbye. A minute later you sank into the car seat and rested your hands on the wheel.

"Well babes, this certainly seems familiar."

You glanced his way and rolled your eyes before getting the car started.

"Yep, it's been an entire day since a demon followed my home, like a lost puppy."

"I'm way cuter than any puppy. Plus, you can keep me in your apartment all you want and your shitty landlady can't do anything about it!"

"Nicer landlady, by the way," you said as the car sputtered to life.

"What?"

"I'd rather have a nicer landlady than a nicer place. Donna would just let a nicer place fall to ruin."

You pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. At the first red light, you tapped your finger on the wheel and hummed.

"Hey Beetle, would you rather stay in a comfortable and familiar place with people that don't believe half of what you say, or cut all contact with them and be alone if it meant freedom?"

Betelgeuse tilted his head from one side to the other, closing his eyes as he mulled over your question. As he thought, the light changed, and you continued on your way home. A sharp grin stretched across his face a moment later.

"Easy. I'd take my freedom."

Your lips twitched up. "Yeah... me too."

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing #fun fact. I kept miss spelling Brandon as Brandong when typing this

[writeyouin]

Hank Anderson X Reader - One Night Stand - Commission

Hey, @petitelepus​, thank you very much for commissioning me. I hope this is how you imagined it, and if there is anything you want changing, just message me and I will fix it til you find it perfect.

Commission request: Okay, how about Hank Anderson from Detroit Become Human with a notably younger woman. Like, he wakes up after a night filled with alcohol and finds Reader in his bed at morning. He thinks he took an android home with him because who young woman in their right sense of mind would go back to old man's like his place? Hilarity ensues when he tries to get rid of his one night mistake, but Reader shows genuine affection and attraction towards the older man. Maybe put Connor there somewhere too?

Warnings - None.

Rating - T

Word Count - 1306

Hank groaned and rolled over onto his side, reaching to pull the covers over his head, as if that might mask the headache he had from the previous night’s drinking. Yet, instead of finding the quilt, his calloused hand brushed over noticeably softer skin. Groggily, he opened his eyes, finding himself opposite your sleeping form, half-spooning him.

He stared long and hard at you, trying to recall the events of the previous night, or even the last time he had come home with a one-night stand. Occasionally in his youth, he would strike lucky, but that hadn’t happened in years. He was a grumpy, old bastard, who had little charm, especially when drunk, so how had it come to pass that you were now in his bed? You were pretty enough to be an android; shit, had he paid for your services? It would make sense, after all, nobody young and good-looking would want to spend the night with an old fart like him. Then again, androids didn’t sleep, and Hank couldn’t see an LED, but it was possible that you were mimicking sleep as some androids did, and that you had removed your LED if that was the case.

Gingerly, Hank lifted your arm, removing it from his chest, so he could sneak out of bed. He looked down, finding a state of undress that only irked him further. Upon pulling on boxers and a shirt, he made his way to the kitchen, trying to keep every movement silent as he made a pot of coffee and tried to come up with a game-plan. He could just wake you and tell you to leave, no matter how harsh it was, but that could lead to you actually trying to talk to him, and he didn’t want that; he didn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe it would be better for him to leave the house and hope that you would take the hint to go back to wherever it was you came from, but then what if you stayed anyway? Hank tried to think of any other options that might help him, but if he couldn’t leave and didn’t want to stay, what else was there? He sat down at the breakfast table to think.

“Morning,” Connor beamed, coming back home from his morning walk with Sumo.

“Fuck,” Hank groaned, having hoped Connor wouldn’t have been home till much later so he could get rid of you without Connor finding out; the android knew a lot more about sarcasm now, and would undoubtedly mock Hank until his dying days if he found out about you.

“Someone’s grumpy,” Connor grinned, removing Sumo’s leash and letting the Saint Bernard roam free.

“Connor, do me a favour and get the hell out. I have something to take care of.”

“I would have thought you’d be happy, considering you got lucky last night.”

“Shit, you fuckin’ knew?”

“About (Y/N), yes. I met her last night when you were sleeping. She went to the bathroom and saw me in the hallway. We then had a nice chat before she went back to bed with you. She’s a real catch.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Hank retorted half-heartedly, hating the shit-eating grin Connor now wore.

Connor was about to make a rebuttal, but the sound of the bedroom door creaking open drew both men’s attention.

“Morning,” You said chipperly, coming out in one of Hank’s old shirts and the jeans that you had arrived in. “Connor, Hank.”

Hank grumbled, feeling bad that he didn’t remember the previous night, when you clearly seemed happy about whatever had gone on; he was still trying to deduce whether he had paid for your time or not, but now that you were awake, it seemed rude to ask. Despite that, Hank was about to ask if you needed a ride home as a way to get rid of you, when you kissed his cheek and sat down next to him at the kitchen table. He froze, memories of his ex-wife surfacing; she used to do that in the early days before things turned sour.

“Would you like some breakfast, (Y/N)?” Connor asked, trying to keep you there as long as possible for his own enjoyment.

“NO!” Hank growled, forgetting himself momentarily. “Uh, I mean- Connor is a lousy cook. Burns everything he touches.”

“Oh,” You noted, “That’s too bad. Then I suppose it’s up to me to make breakfast. You like pancakes?”

“N-”

“He sure does,” Connor interrupted, moving over to the cupboards. “Here, I’ll get the ingredients for you.”

As Connor worked, pulling out various utensils, he began asking you questions about you, trying to get Hank to like you just for the fun of it.

“So, (Y/N), how did you and Hank meet?”

“Oh it was really sweet. We were at a bar last night and some guy pinched my ass, and I was about to yell at him, but then Hank came over to defend my honour. It was so romantic. After that, we spent the night talking and well, here we are now, right sweetie?”

“…Right,” Hank answered non-committedly, trying to jog his own memory. Did he really do that? Why couldn’t he have minded his own business?

“Really?” Connor said enthusiastically. “That’s just like Hank. Did you know he’s works at the DPD? He’s always there to protect the citizens of Detroit and-”

“Connor, bedroom, now,” Hank glowered at Connor, who only smiled at you and excused himself, closely followed by Hank.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Hank hissed, once the door was closed and they were out of earshot.

“I was only-”

“Argh, I don’t care. Either help me get rid of her, or get the fuck outta here. You hear me?”

Rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically, Connor left the room, making his excuses to you before the house to go on yet another walk with Sumo.

“Bye Con,” You waved casually. “See you later. Well, I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Hank rubbed his beard awkwardly, dragging his hand down his face “Yeah about us…Listen, I’ve gotta be honest here. I don’t really remember anything about last night.”

Your face fell, “Oh…”

“And you seem like a nice girl, but uh- You’ve got a lot of life to live and you don’t want to go wasting it on a grumpy old fart like me, with a rough job and a heavy drinking problem.”

“Have you picked up women before?”

“What?” Hank asked, your question throwing him.

“Like, do you do this all the time?”

“No. Honestly, I haven’t done anything like this in a long time.”

“Then it’s fate,” You exclaimed happily.

“What?”

“You said it yourself. You don’t normally do this. So, whatever happens Hank Anderson, I am going to recreate the spark we had last night, until you learn that I’m the one for you. Besides, you’re a charming, handsome silver fox. Why would I ever give that up?”

You wrapped your hands around Hank’s waist and pecked his cheek again, while he stood dumbfounded.

Hank watched you with a frown as you went back to mixing the pancake batter, all the while wondering just what the hell he had said the previous night that had earned your affection.

At noon that day, Connor came back somewhat glumly, prepared for the fact that you would be gone and that Hank was willing to give up on finding love again. He had genuinely liked you, after finding that you truly did have feelings for Hank. However, when he got back in, he found you at the table with Hank in an avid conversation about old music.

Hank took in Connor’s flummoxed expression, and answered it with an equally perplexing statement, “(Y/N)’s staying for dinner.”

“No kidding,” Connor chuckled. “Welcome to the Anderson’s, (Y/N).”

#hank anderson #Connor #hank anderson x reader #commission #detroit become human #detroit #Detroit: BH #DBH #sumo #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis​, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum 

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. “It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.  

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. “Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”  

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”  

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.  

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.  

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”  

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.  

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off. 

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true. 

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

[coloredgirlfan-fiction01]

The warm morning sunshine was the first thing you felt as you woke from your sleep. The bright light stung your rested eyes but with a few blinks it was manageable.

Looking over at your bedside table, the digital clock read seven sixteen. You had wanted to set the alarm to wake up earlier, but Michael always complained that the sound it made was annoying and gave him headaches.

So you had to learn to wake up early so Michael could get his beauty sleep, not that he really needed it.

Said blonde was still fast asleep on his back, arms on each side of his head and soft pink lips slightly parted as he took shallow breaths. His long eyelashes fluttering ever so gently on his cheeks as he dreamed, something good you hoped.

He was dressed in the red silk pajama suit you picked out for him last night, the first three buttons of the top undone which exposed the smooth skin of his chest.

He was so beautiful, unlike most men he was soft and loved to be taken cared of. There was nothing anyone could say or do that could make you any less in love with him, and he loved you just as much.

You protected him and never judged him for the way he was like those in his past had. They were so focused on what he was and what he was destined to do, that they never stopped to ask him who he really was outside of his father's dark shadow.

As you watched him sleep a fond smile crept across your lips, you leaned over the blonde and gently kissed the top of his exposed chest.

"Michael, it's time to wake up." You whispered placing another kiss just above the previous one.

You felt him stir and let out a soft groan as you began to kiss his neck.

"Five more minutes." You chuckled at how childish his whine was.

"Come on puppy, it's time to get up." You watched as his eyes fluttered open, ocean eyes seemed to almost glow as the sunlight hit them.

"Morning.." He greeted with a smile. You reached out you brush a few strands away from his face, enjoying the smoothness of his skin and the happiness in his eyes.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I dreamt about you. We were at the bottom of a clear blue ocean. I was lying on your lap, you were humming a song and running your fingers through my hair as I fell asleep. It was beautiful, peaceful."

He always had such strange dreams. Sometimes he had nightmares that were so vivid even you got chills whenever he'd talk about them, but you always loved the ones he got that made him smile in the morning.

"Your too cute for your own good sometimes you know that?" You kissed him and got out of bed to stretch your arms above your head to rid your body of any excess tiredness.

The grey T-shirt you wore to bed lifted as you did, exposing your upper thighs and ass which Michael gawked when he sat up. He couldn't help but think how sexy you looked wearing his shirt and nothing else.

Your skin always had a sort of glow when the sun washed over you. Every curve, your hips, your breasts, your long legs, your natural hair that framed your face made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He'd never thought that after everything that went went in his life, all the blood and bad choices that he would find redemption and safety in the shape of you.

You were the first person to treat him like an actual human being with feelings and emotions instead of just the antichrist that was destined to destroy the world and remake it in his father's image. That part of him died the moment he gave himself to you.

"Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you gonna' get up and get ready pup?" Blush dusted his cheeks and he averted his eyes to stop from staring. He got out of bed and helped fixed the bedding before joining you in the shower.

After that you guided him downstairs to the kitchen and began to make a healthy breakfast for the both of you, while Michael sat at the counter and watched you.

French toast, eggs, sausages and a pot of freshly made lemongrass tea was on the menu and you took pride in the fact that you only took twenty minutes to make everything.

"So what do you want to do today pup?" You asked serving him his share. Since you didn't have to go into work on Saturdays, you always let Michael choose how you'd spend the day together. You owned your own business and it took up alot of your time, so you dedicated a day just for Michael since he hardly gets to have you for himself.

"I was thinking we could go to the park today, the weather's nice maybe we can have a picnic?"

"That sound like a g-" The loud ringing of your cellphone cut off the conversation and drew you away from the kitchen counter to retrieve your phone from upstairs.

Apparently one of your employees made an error at work and they needed your help to fix it before it caused problems for the software. You inquired about the error and thanked the heavens it wasn't something that you needed to leave home for.

"Michael I'm going to be in my office for a few minutes, finish your breakfast and watch some TV until I'm done OK?" You called out and got an 'alright' as his answer.

About an hour has passed and Michael was getting bored of watching TV. They were showing some low budget show about vampires and he was in no mood to sit through it.

What was taking you so long? You had said a few minutes and it's been an entire hour and you haven't left your home office.

He hardly gets to spend any quality quality time with you and now your work was getting in the way of his day. He wasn't happy.

Deciding he's waited enough, Michael clicked off the TV and marched up the stairs to the see what was taking you so long. He decided not to knock and just barged in ready to demand your attention but stopped himself as he saw you typing furiously on your laptop and talking sternly at whoever was on the phone.

"There is absolutely nothing you can give me as an excuse right now, this could completely crash the servers and we can loose Gigabytes of data because of this."

You always looked so fierce when you were pissed off about something. Your usually calm and collected demeanor was replaced by one of dominance and authority that always made his knees weak. Just the sound of you scolding your employee made him hard and made him want your attention even more.

He closed the door behind him and walks over to you, fully determined to get what he wanted despite knowing he wasn't allowed to disturb you during work.

"Y/n are you almost done, you promised that we'd spend time together today." He whined kneeling beside your chair. His big blue eyes looked up at you but you didn't even give his a side glance.

"Today is my day with you they get you every other day, can't you handle this later?" You shot him a serious glare that shut him up but it didn't deter him from his mission. Being ignored was one thing, but you brushing him off for your work on his day was the last straw.

You didn't question him when he crawled on the floor to get under your desk. You didn't even question when he spread your legs apart to make room for himself in the tight space.

What did get your attention was the sharp tug of your panties that made them snap when he tugged them with his finger. The pull was so strong it pulled you along with it.

He could be such a brat when he couldn't get what he wanted. You didn't mind it but your work couldn't wait.

You could tell he was getting impatient as you hardly reacted to his desperate acts for attention. The way his teeth nipped at your inner thighs and the wetness his tongue left in it's wake as he licked your folds with vigor.

You'd be lying if you weren't getting turned on by his efforts.

If there's one thing that Michael excelled at was pleasing you to the best of his abilities.

It took all of your will power not to moan into your phone as his tongue slipped into you, his hands wrapped around your hips to pull your lower half flush against his mouth.

"You do know there will be consequences for this, don't you?" You said into the phone while grabbing a fist full of Michael's hair, making sure that he knew she was talking to him too.

Absolute chills ripped through you as he moaned loudly against your sex. His hot breath against your dripping sex was euphoric and you could help but grind your hips into him to get more.

"Listen to me, today is my day off and I have business at the moment to take care of. I'll deal with you and your mistake tomorrow." You ended the call and threw the phone on the desktop.

You pulled away from Michael and yanked him by his hair to get out of the tight space.

"You can be a real brat sometimes you know that?"

"You were gone for so long, and I-"

"You know the rules about coming in here don't you?"

"I know. I- I'm sorry."

You sighed and gestured to him to get out from under the table and to lay down on the floor. You followed after him and took the position of straddling his hips.

He looked so adorable beneath you, eyes full of anticipation for whatever you were going to do to him at that moment, you almost felt sorry for him.

"How do you think you should be punished puppy?"

Usually you would spank him or put him on time out for disobeying you, but he was right. Today was his day and you broke your promise.

"How about I do something we'll both enjoy, but at the same time you get your punishment. And if you're good we'll get ready to go on that picnic right after, sound fair?" You asked, which he immediately agreed to.

You slowly began to ride on top of Michael, his semi erection perfectly positioned against your sex making the friction delicious between the two of you.

The hairs on your neck stood up as a wave of chills ran across your skin when Michael let out a desperate moan as you felt him grow harder under you. His brilliant blue eyes glazed over in desperation and pleasure that motivated you to move faster.

"Y/n, I.. I want more..~" He panted, gripping your waist and meeting your humping with vigor.

"I know you do puppy, but this is all you're gonna get."

#sub+michael+langdon #American Horror Story #Michael Langdon x reader

[s-creations]

In Sickness, In Health Chapter 3 - Mental Health

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros           Rating: General Audience           Relationships/Pairings:  José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles   Additional Tags: getting sick, being cared for, mental health, injury, sore throat, common cold, chicken pox, broken bones, whooping cough, taking care of others.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

José knew it was a long time coming.

 He wondered if it was the constant, non-stop life of a job and raising three kids kept it at bay for so long. Because it was upon realizing the familiar gray clouds were approaching once more that he also counted how long it had been since his last...episode. How long ago his last relapse was. How long it had been since his heart beating heavily in his chest while his mind became muddled. 

 It started out on Monday. Waking up early to get into work. Knowing he was going to be gone until Friday. Gone from his family and the warm bed surrounded by his husbands. Sleeping in numerous hotel rooms where it was uncomfortably cold. 

 Then his mind seemed to fixate on every negative aspect of his job. How long the flights seemed to be. How every patron had made it their mission to be as loud, needy, and rude as possible. He was sure every mistake, which was numerous his mind helpfully offered, would cost him his position. Which sent him down a spiral thought of how the family would suffer. How dependent they were on him financially and he would be a disappointment once more.

 José knew the mask was slipping when co-workers pulled him aside after one flight. Asking if he was okay. To which he merely smiled and said he was feeling fine. But he could tell by the exchange of worried glances he wasn’t being convincing. 

 It was both a relief and a mounting worry when the end of the week arrived. He was finally able to go home. But he didn’t want to face the family. The kids were old enough to know something was wrong but not able to understand what was wrong. This was a burden José didn’t even want his husbands to deal with. He didn’t want the kids to worry as well.

 The front door opened slowly, José standing in the doorway. Contemplating if he should go in or just rent out a hotel until this passed. 

 But it won’t pass. The problem is always there. Hiding will only make them worry more. They’d just hunt you down and do you really want to do that to them?

 José couldn’t tell if the voice was supposed to be helping or not. Letting out a slow sigh, he walked in. Mind and body exhausted, he shuffled over to the couch. Unable to convince himself to make it to the proper bed. Merely kicking off his shows as he settled down. Sleep not coming to him until a few hours later. Even then, it was restless. 

 He heard when the family woke up. Familiar sounds of feet hitting the ground. Cheerful cries of ‘Tio Chito!’ and ‘Uncle Donald!’ coming from the triplets. Very mumbled and soft replies from the two adults. José rolled so he was facing the back of the couch. Curling up to be as small as possible. Footsteps drew closer. Heading straight for the kitchen, the sounds of breakfast cooking and plates clinking together following. José wondered how long it would take for them to find him. 

 It honestly didn’t take that long. 

 Curious footsteps drew closer to the couch. “Tio José?”

 Oh, it was Louie. Of course it was going to be one of the triplets who found him first. José could only hope that Louie would assume the parrot was still asleep. That the duckling would eventually become bored and wanders back to the family. 

 José twitched slightly feeling hands grasping the back of his shirt. Louie climbed up and laid himself across the parrot.

 “Louie?” Donald called out from the kitchen, “What are you doing in there?”

 “Shhh, Tio José’s sleeping.” The duckling replied. Two sets of footsteps sounded as, no doubt, Donald and Panchito walked in. Louie was lifted up with a small noise of complaint. 

 “Come on, let’s let Tio José sleep.” Donald said, his voice growing distant as he went back to the kitchen. 

 Panchito had remained behind, José didn’t have to look up. Sure enough, a hand was gently placed on his shoulder. “José? ...Where are we on the scale?”

 It was always ‘we’, never ‘you’. The rooster made it clear how determined he was to help out in any way. It wasn’t a problem José didn’t have to manage alone. This was an issue they handled together. 

 “José, where on the scale.”

 Oh, right, he was supposed to answer. “...7.”

 “Okay, we can work with a 7.” Being cautious, Panchito slowly moved the parrot to sit up. José opened his eyes to get his bearings as everything shifted. “Did you sleep?”

 “...I think so...but not long…”

 “I think the first thing we need to worry about is getting you a shower. And out of your work clothes. I’m sure that will help out as well.”

 José made no complaint as he was moved to stand. The rooster more than happy (more or less)  to carry the other to the bedroom.

 “Tio José?”

 And they had to pass the kitchen. So the triplets had their full attention set on their uncles trying to sneak by. Donald looked sheepish, a silent apology for having José being caught in the act. 

 This wouldn’t be an issue if you could actually take care of yourself.

 “No worries,” Panchito attempted to calm the worried looks, “José’s just feeling a little unwell. But he’s going to get cleaned up and sleep for a bit.” 

 José watched as the three ducklings exchanged looks. The parrot holding himself back from hiding away behind the tall rooster. 

 “...I like watching movies when I’m not feeling well.” Huey quietly offered. 

 Which Dewey jumped onto easily. “Yeah! Movie marathon in the living room! Can we do that, please? To help Tio José.”

 Louie’s eyes darted between all. Curious about the outcome, but not wanting to weigh in. 

 “As wonderful as that sounds, Tio José may just want to sleep. Let’s let him get himself clean and decide what he wants to do after that.” Panchito smiled softly at the small chorus of ‘Yes, Tio Chito’ as he led José away. The bedroom door closed, placing both birds in darkness.

 “You go get clean. I’ll bring you your sleepwear. Then we can decide what to do after.” 

 “...What if I do not want to be with the kids?”

 “Then you don’t have to. We won’t force you to.” 

 “...But I will disappoint them.”

 Panchito gave a gentle kiss to José’s forehead. “You could never disappoint them. Now, go shower. Take all the time you need.”

 The parrot gave a small sigh. Wishing he could just hide away in the red plumage. But knowing he wouldn’t win, he instead shuffled away to the bathroom. 

 The water was scalding as it fell on José. The room filling with steam as his fingers ran through his feathers. It was nice to get the work dirt and smell off of him. Sure, the hotel rooms had showers. But being home just made that feeling of being clean all the better. That didn’t mean José was going to leave anytime soon. He still had to decide what happened when he left. 

 Do you really think your family will want to be around you?

 “But I want to be with them,” José quietly argued back, “Wasn’t that the whole reason I came back?”

 It was so they didn’t have to hunt you down. Continuing to be a burden. Just tuck yourself away and keep out of the way. They don’t want to see you.

 The parrot frowned. Not in defeat, but in determination. “Except they do… We planned a movie marathon tonight. They suggested it.”

 They don’t want to see you!

 “Well, I want to see them.”

 José turned the water off after only a few minutes of getting clean. Climbing out and grabbing the towel, scrubbing it over himself to dry off quickly. Eyes landing on a pile of clothing resting on the toilet seat. Panchito must have walked in while José was internally arguing with himself. The parrot ignored the feeling of clothing sticking to wet feathers as he left the bathroom. The rooster, who had been scrolling through his phone, jumped as the door was suddenly opened. Clearly not prepared.

 “J-José, you alright?”

 “I want my boys.”

 Panchito gave a relieved laugh and smiled. “Alright. Let’s go see our boys.”

 They entered the living room, where the couch was already transformed into a blanket tent. Stack of movies resting at the base of the entertainment system. Dewey cheered upon seeing Panchito and José. But Louie was the one who dashed over, clinging to the parrot’s leg. José instantly bent down to pick the duckling up. Finding comfort in the weight and warmth in his arms. 

 All clambered onto the couch, smuched together as the movie started. No one commented when José fell asleep halfway through. 

#donald duck #josé carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations #fanfiction

[mavericksy]

Time to Waste (Aizawa x Gender-neutral Reader)

Summary: Aizawa is displeased when your lengthy going-out routine leads the two of you to arrive late at an event, and you know full well he’s going to get you back for it- after all, that was your plan.

Tags: Spanking, mild public humiliation

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+

Word count: 3990

Requests are open (any character/pairing/rating)!

Black or blue? Slim or bootcut? You hold the pants in front of you, scrutinising them under your bedroom light. A pile of going-out clothes lies discarded on top of your shared double bed. You’ve known about this event for the last few months, and had even considered your outfit choices during the slow hours of work, but you’ve purposefully avoided making any decisions until an hour beforehand.

Aizawa arrives in the doorway. He’s already sulking at the prospect of having to wear a tie, but his face well and truly drops when he sees you sat on the floor in just your underwear.

“You…you told me you were ready!” he hisses. “You told me you just needed to change your shirt!”

You look up as though you weren’t expecting to see him in the doorway of his own bedroom, and tilt your head to the side.

“Yeah, but…there weren’t any good replacements!”

“So you took the entire outfit off?”

“What’s the matter? You don’t want me to look good at this event?”

“Like I told you earlier, I could care less what you wear. I doubt we’re even going to make it at this rate.”

You roll your eyes and check your watch.

“Come on, big kitty…” His shoulders hunch at your pet name, and you know he’s trying to suppress a blush. “We’ve got an hour to get there.”

“And if there’s traffic?”

You shrug. “We get there a little late, so what? If anything, it’s less time spent rubbing shoulders with people you don’t like.” “The earlier we arrive, the earlier we can leave. The later we arrive, the more people there are to block our path to the exit.”

“I’m surprised you even accepted the invitation.” You hold two shirts up, one dark blue and one white pinstripe. “Which one?”

“I don’t care, so long as you wear something.” He leans against the doorframe in despair. You don’t miss his eyes coasting over your nude curves as you kneel on the floor. You make a special point of leaning forward to pick another article up, knowing his eyes will snap to your underwear as it rides up the swell of your backside.

“Hmm, I think I’ll go with this one…” You retrieve the shirt and shuffle your butt, as though to shift the material of the underwear somewhere more comfortable. He’s momentarily distracted, then he spots the red shirt in your hands.

“That’s the one you were wearing before!” He pushes himself off the doorframe and storms over to snatch it out of your hands. His suspicions are confirmed as he inspects it. “You…!”

He stares down at you as you kneel on the floor. You employ the big, confused eyes, holding a pair of trousers to your chest.

“You…” he sighs and ruffles your hair. Your chest leaps with glee, and you nudge your head into his touch, only for his fingers to tighten on the back of your skull. He pushes you into the crotch of his suit pants. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“What?” you say, letting your lips brush the material. You raise a hand to stroke his thigh, moving onto your haunches. His fly is an inch away from your face, and you let your fingers dance across it, clicking against his belt buckle.

“Stop that,” he grunts, pushing your head down and stepping over you. He drops the shirt and moves to the door. “Get dressed, or I’ll make you sit naked in the cab.”

You know he’d never make good on that, but you feel your blood rush towards your pelvis anyway.

“What have I done?” you whine, getting on all fours to pick the shirt up. His gaze is fully on you, even as he stands in the doorway about to leave the room. He takes in the dip of your back as it cascades towards your covered ass, which you’ve positioned pleasingly in the air.

He chuckles darkly.

“I’ll tell you what you’ve done. You’ve just earned yourself a spanking.”

He was right. There was traffic.

You had felt extremely pleased with your plan as you exited your house. Aizawa hated public affection, but he’d taken an extra moment to squeeze and maul your ass as you kissed behind the door, only to lay a swift smack on it just as you stepped out. He’d played it nonchalant, but your eyes had immediately gone to the cab sat right by the door, both mortified and thrilled at the prospect that the driver might have seen- or heard your squeak.

As the driver hummed and tapped his wheel, staring out at the line of cars ahead, you felt Aizawa’s withering gaze squarely on your face as you put all your attention into toying with the window controls.

He moved closer to you, hanging over your shoulder so you could hear his controlled breathing, and smell the shampoo on his hair. At the back of your mind you were happy to discover it was the herbal one you’d bought him. As he lingered, you became more and more aware of his broad, muscled shoulder digging into yours. Neither of you had ever seen the point in comparing body types, but you were always conscious of the sheer brawn he hid under his dark, ill-fitting clothes.

The stinging spank he had given you before you left had only been a taste of what was yet to come.

You squirmed and clenched your cheeks as the memory of it worked its way back onto your flesh, making the skin on your rear tingle. Already you were wondering if the thorough groping he had given you had left bruises, or if the ache in your body was simply it yearning for what was yet to come.

After the event.

He didn’t say anything in the taxi, but you could tell from the way his fingers drummed against his folded arms that he wasn’t impressed with you at the moment. Both of you kept checking your watches, but eventually the vehicle pulled down the required avenue in a ritzy part of the city. Your heart sank and his scowl deepened as you arrived outside the restaurant, and saw a throng of burly heroes already outside.

Aizawa thanked the driver and jumped out first, before coming around to your side to open the door. You had been avoiding his gaze for most of the journey, horrified at the shock of traffic you hadn’t predicted, but now you couldn’t find anywhere else to look but his face. His eyes were hard and intense, but it was the fire behind them that made you tremble as the door handle clicked. It wasn’t the cold and professional glare he reserved for villains and irksome colleagues.

It was the one that told you that you were going to be sleeping on your stomach for the next week.

You thanked the driver and stepped out of the cab, expecting to take his hand. Instead, his arm snaked around your waist. Uh-oh.

He held his watch in front of your face.

“Seventeen minutes,” he deadpanned.

“I-”

He cut you off with a firm wallop to your rear, the opposite cheek. You jolted and tried not to make a sound as you stepped onto the carpet outside the restaurant, and into the crowd of heroes. They were boisterous and broad, jostling each other in tipsy shows of strength, but Aizawa’s arm kept you pulled close to his side. Your cheek tingled as you navigated through to the entrance, ducking around Aizawa’s industry colleagues as he snubbed them one by one, and it didn’t stop tingling until you’d reached the door.

“Aizawa,” he said plainly to a woman holding a ledger. You fidgeted in place as she took a moment to read through it. Standing on the spot was making your butt clench in a way that drew attention to your sore skin, and it didn’t help that Aizawa’s fingers were caressing the thick flesh at the base of your spine, which created another problem for you below the belt. You flushed and readjusted your pants as the woman let you through. A thrill rushed up and down your spine as Aizawa’s hand dropped momentarily, allowing him to graze your cleft as he pushed the heavy glass door open.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he muttered into your ear, eyeing the room for any potential interactions to be avoided. “We’re getting out of here as soon as-”

“Aizawa, you finally made it!” A familiar voice cried. Your heads snapped in the direction it came from.

Having spotted you from the bar, Midnight was waltzing over in a sea of red sparkles, her breasts swinging perilously close to freedom behind her plunging neckline. Her perfume tickled your nose as she swept in to smooch Aizawa’s cheek, a gesture he had long learned to tolerate instead of try and avoid.

You felt your cheeks going pink as she did the same to you. You made the mistake of avoiding her gaze by looking down at her bosom.

“So cheeky!” she exclaimed, assaulting your shoulder with a bar napkin- a makeshift replacement for a flogger. “Aizawa, you need to keep this one under control!”

“Believe me, I’ve been trying,” Aizawa growled. Your cheeks suddenly became very hot and sweaty as you realised exactly what was about to happen.

Aizawa was a private person, but even he needed an outlet sometimes. Midnight, the single most shameless and salacious person you had ever met, was a match made in heaven.

“I’ve already had to schedule one punishment for tonight.”

Sweet humiliation tore into your lower regions as Aizawa squeezed your side possessively, staring Midnight down as though daring her to make a claim on you.

Which she of course did.

“I thought you had a guilty look on your face,” she purred, looking you up and down. “Make him late, did you?”

Trying to keep your lips clamped together to avoid a shriek of delighted indignity, you nodded.

“Oh, aren’t you bad? Stealing my time with a dear colleague. Aizawa, let me teach them a lesson, too!”

“Keep off,” Aizawa said, tugging you to stand in front of him and resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel his jaw move as he dragged his tongue across his grin. He pushed his hips to your ass, making you stir as you were pulled against his erection. “This one’s mine.”

Midnight chuckled and traced your chin with her finger. “Pity.”

Aizawa snapped his teeth at her playfully, to which she laughed.

“Make sure you give them a couple extra to make up for staring at my chest!” she called over her shoulder, before vanishing into the crowd to tease some other poor soul.

Aizawa nestled his face into your shoulder as she left, and kissed the back of your neck. Laughter bubbled out of you as he squeezed your sides.

“You’re not usually this affectionate out and about,” you said.

He stood and laid a single kiss to the side of your head, patting your rear. You both knew that, for all the fuss they’d make about him not attending this event, nobody was paying any attention to you.

“I’m having a hard time keeping myself from bending you over my knee right here, right now,” he hissed, all but stopping your heart as you gazed around the room. He was.

“Don’t you dare,” you giggled as he guided you to make a lap around the room.

“Strange,” he said, grinning wolfishly. “You’re not the one who’s supposed to be giving orders to me.”

“Like I listen to your orders to begin- oh!” You leapt out of your skin as he patted you more firmly than you were expecting, your reaction drawing much more attention than the mild spank.

“I’m going to kill you, I swear,” you hissed as you hurried past a group of bemused heroes.

“I’d welcome it,” he sighed, raising his hand and stopping as two heroes you didn’t recognise spotted him and started to walk over.

The cab door slammed shut.

“In,” he said firmly as the cab drove off. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stumbled towards your front door, keys in hand.

He arrived behind you, his impressive body casting a shadow over the door as lamplight caught him. You could feel him judging you as you fumbled with the keys, your fingers shaking, until eventually he stepped forwards and plucked them from your hand. His warm breath coasted down your neck as he leaned over to maneuver them in the lock, much more quietly and gracefully than your nervous hands could have done it.

“Over the couch.”

Not keen to disobey him further, you quickly hopped inside your warm front room, glancing over your shoulder to gauge his expression. Usually you delighted in playful sessions sat on the edge of the bed, but the couch meant business.

You hurried into the living room and headed for your slightly worn fabric couch. It was padded to accommodate Aizawa’s frequent naps, but the height of the arms meant that any time you bent over them, your butt pointed straight up in the air. You got yourself into position, sighing as your face, predictably, smushed straight into the cushions.

His shoes hit the floor in the other room. A swish of material told you he had taken his jacket off. In his socks, he was able to move around the house silently, and his voice from the doorway made you jump.

“Pants down,” was all he said, before promptly disappearing.

You groaned as you stood again, catching a glimpse of his white shirt disappearing towards the kitchen. Trying to avoid the gaze of the cat statue on the mantel, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your trousers and tugged them down. Being so hasty about getting to the couch, you had neglected to take your shoes off (and you half-hoped that wouldn’t result in a harsher punishment, half-hoped it would), and had to settle for pooling your pants around your ankles.

He hadn’t said anything about underwear, so you left it up as you got back into position. You sensed he liked it better that way- more to play with.

You blinked the dust from the sofa out of your eyes as you waited for him to return, feeling a chill run down your exposed thighs. It wasn’t a comfortable position, and the pants restricting your leg movement made it all the harder to balance.

He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes- after all, he was probably as excited to get started as you- but at the same time you were concerned that maybe he wouldn’t come back at all. Maybe lying here for the entire night was your punishment- or, worse, maybe he was upstairs right now, hurriedly packing his bags to sneak out the front door.

You didn’t hear him enter the room, of course. What you did hear, much closer than you had expected, was the sound of his belt buckle. You craned your neck to look at him, heart pounding and your lower regions tightening in anticipation as he folded the thick leather strap over in his hands. His fingers stroked down it as he saw you staring. They weren’t moving in a graceful, easy motion- the belt was too rough and worn for that. He circled them around the top of the loop, staring down at you and licking his lips.

“How many minutes late were we?” he asked.

You breathed in carefully. “Seventeen minutes.”

“Seventeen what?”

You hung your head.

“Seventeen minutes, master.”

He didn’t respond. You assumed he was nodding.

“That seems like a good place to start, don’t you think?” You didn’t answer- he didn’t want you to. “On top of that, there’s those extra few for staring at Midnight’s chest-”

You pushed yourself up on your hands, ready to protest.

“I didn’t-”

Crash!

Warm pain flooded through your buttocks. You had barely had time to register his movement. Heart pounding, you took a moment to caress where the belt had just landed.

“And one extra for trying to argue with me.”

His fingers appeared on your wrist. He pushed your arm to the side. The material of his trousers brushing your nude skin, he leaned over to play with your underwear, smoothing the waistband against your skin before pinching it together and yanking it upwards. You gasped as you felt the fabric pinch against your body, lifting your ass into the air as he tugged the material into your cleft, leaving a much wider canvas of warming skin.

He tapped the belt against the swell of your rear.

“Start counting from two,” he commanded.

You nodded, and braced yourself.

Wallop! Your entire torso lifted off the couch as the weight of the belt slammed into your ass, leaving you out of breath- and it was only the second strike.

“Were you expecting a warm-up?” he said. You nodded, blinking away the moisture that was already beginning to pool in your eyes. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have wasted so much of our time, earlier.”

He tapped the belt firmly against your skin, but hadn’t made his next strike yet. He was giving you a chance.

“What number?”

“Two, master…” you mumbled, tucking your hands away to keep them from springing back to defend your rear.

“Good. You can’t get ready on time, but you can count.”

The weight of the belt left your skin.

“Three!” you choked out. “Four!”

He paused again, the cool, warning presence of the belt leather laid against your skin as always.

“You’re getting sloppy. There’s a certain word I haven’t been hearing from you for the last two strikes.”

He swung the belt, which landed explosively against your right cheek. You rolled your hips to alleviate the sting, wincing.

“Five, master…! Six- six, master! Seven…master!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t make you repeat them.”

The next three hits came with such speed, you were still halfway through counting number nine by the time ten had landed. He gave you a brief moment to recover. Your legs lifted in the air together, still bound by your own trousers, as you tried to jerk the sting away.

As they settled back in place, ready for number eleven, you felt a delightful warmth run across both cheeks. Your privates pulsed insistently, emboldened by the rush of blood to their neighbouring regions.

“Are you sorry for making us late?”

The belt was already making its journey through the air as you opened your mouth to reply.

“Yes, I’m sorry for- eleven, master! Yes, I’m sorry for- twelve!”

“What was that?” He struck you again, his face like granite as he listened to you whimper out the number thirteen.

“I’m sorry for- ah, ow!”

“That didn’t sound like a number.”

“Fourteen! Ah-ow! Fifteen!”

You felt his hand on your skin, blissfully cold to dispel the angry heat across your cheeks. He rubbed them soothingly, but his voice still had a warning tone.

“You’re getting sloppy on your ‘masters’ again. Do I need to repeat what I told you with the belt?”

“No, no!” You shook your head firmly. His large hand suddenly crashed against your ass, once for each cheek. “Ah!”

“Lucky for you, I decided to use my hand. Wasn’t that nice?” You nodded. Two fingers wormed their way underneath the fabric of your underwear, grazing your cleft and making you moan as they tickled the sensitive spot. “I think you should thank me.”

“Thank…thank you, master…” you said, arching your ass into his fingers. They left you promptly, only to be followed by another strike from the belt. This one ripped across your upper thighs.

“That’s…sixteen, master!” you gasped. The pain from the blow had made you jolt forwards against the arm of the couch. The couch fabric had caught against the front of your underwear, pulling it down and causing curls of your exposed pubic hair to drag against the material, evoking an unsubtle groan.

Aizawa snorted as he lifted the belt from where it had landed between your thighs, and yanked your underwear back into your cleft. All that did was force your body against the couch, the friction making more soft moans bubble out of your mouth.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy yourself so much when you’re being punished,” he told you. “I don’t want to hear another sound out of you unless you’re counting these blows. If I do, I’ll start over. Understand?”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from making any noise, and nodded your head.

Seventeen landed, its weight coming unevenly against your right cheek again. As you counted it, making an effort to keep your voice even, Aizawa balanced his hand on your cheeks, thumbs swirling against your flesh as he stepped to the other side.

“Eighteen, master!” This one seemed to flip the pattern, with the pain searing against your left side instead.

Nineteen was a difficult one to get through. The angle of the belt changed mid-flight, the leftover force causing it to slap against your left cheek and immediately spring against your privates.

“Ni-nineteen, master!” you yowled, turning your lustful moan into your words to keep him from hearing it. The strength of your voice seemed to have drowned out an apology from him, and for the final blow, his hand settled against the small of your back.

“Last one, my pet…” he mumbled as he lifted the belt. You hummed and squirmed into his touch as you waited for the blow to land.

“Twenty, master!” you said almost as soon as it landed. The pain faded quickly, dulled by the intense need growing in your loins.

Immediately, his hand stroked down your back, and he picked you up from the couch to pull you close to him.

“Aren’t you so good, taking all those blows like that?” he said, massaging your flushed rear. You both looked down at the visibly sore skin as he pulled your underwear back into place. As you leaned into him to pull your pants back up, you felt a distinct lump against his leg.

“Now who’s the one enjoying punishment too much?” you teased him, yelping as his hand laid a stark reminder of who got to tease who on your abused butt.

“Don’t make me do that all over again,” he mumbled, bringing your lips together in a deep kiss. You nuzzled your face into his scratchy jaw, tipping forwards as he ended it, and started moving towards the stairs.

You grinned as you watched him go, following close behind. The loose material of the suit trousers wrapped around his thigh as he ascended the steps, and you couldn’t help but reach out to give him a taste of what he’d been doing to you all evening.

“Don’t,” he said as your hand left his firm ass cheek, but he couldn’t do much more than simply admonish you as he climbed the stairs. “I’ll spank you again. Don’t even try it.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you said, taking his hand and drooping into him as you arrived at the top of the staircase. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, preparing to open the bedroom door. “You’re too horny. And besides, I don’t think I could take another spanking this evening even if I-”

The bedroom door swung open, and the light clicked on. You both stood wrapped around each other in the doorway as you surveyed the scene in front of you. Clothes upon clothes upon clothes- almost the entire contents of your share of the wardrobe- lay scattered across the room, littering the floor, the bed…

His arms tightened around you. The walls of the bedroom flashed before your eyes as he hauled you towards the bed.

“Wait! No! Ah, kitty…!”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you #aizawa x reader #long post

[somethingwritey]

sneak peek: “run to you” - a rangshi longfic

💖 i am currently working on a rangshi longfic (50k words at the moment) that i’ll eventually publish on ao3. it takes place directly following the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee. 

💖 my writing commissions are open! message me with commission requests or questions! 

💖 here’s a sneak peek of “run to you”! 

--- 

Kyoshi had blood on her hands.

Quite literally, at the moment.

She stared down at her palms and fingers, hoping they didn’t shake as badly as she feared.

She knew she needed to wash the weight of Rangi’s blood away, watch it swirl down her arms and out of sight, as if that alone could wipe away the pain she’d caused her girl, but for some reason, Kyoshi couldn’t seem to move her feet.

Every part of her felt heavy and languid, and it was hard work to imagine that these were the same limbs that had carried, defended, and healed only hours ago. Kyoshi wanted to curl up into a ball and wait for someone else to save the world for once.

Because that was the oh, so incessant problem about Avatarhood. No matter how many messes Kyoshi cleaned up, there were still new terrors cropping up the moment she sat down to catch her breath. It was exhausting. Behind all the makeup and armor, she was still the servant girl in the mansion - tasked with the never-ending job of cleaning up.

“You saved her life.”

Kyoshi lifted her head to see Hei-Ran, standing only a little less poised than usual. The teetering fate of Rangi had taken a toll on even the most rigid members of her group.

“I did my duty.” The words came out defeated, as if Kyoshi had lost instead of won. Then again, with Yun’s grey body lying somewhere inside the ruined mansion waiting to be put to rest, and a bloodied Rangi being tended to by Atuat, maybe she couldn’t claim victory after all.

Peace comes at a price.

She heard the words in Lao Ge’s voice, although she was fairly certain he’d never actually uttered them to her.

“You did far beyond that, Avatar.” Hei-Ran thought about it for a moment, then took a seat beside her - flicking her robes out behind her as she did. “You should be honored for what you’ve done.”

“Yeah, except no one will even know!” Kyoshi slammed her fists down on the ground, causing a small tremor beneath them. “Zoryu’s made sure of that! He gets all the credit, and all he’s done is sentence an innocent man to death!”

This outburst probably wouldn’t win her any favor in Hei-Ran’s eyes - the woman so committed to her duty that she’d willingly sacrificed her hair and honor to acknowledge her failures - but Kyoshi couldn’t help it.

Her first choice for a confidant would’ve been Rangi, of course. Or maybe Kelsang. But with the latter dead and the former barely conscious, she supposed the old headmistress would have to do. The woman had claimed Kyoshi as a daughter back in North Chung-Ling. Perhaps that warranted a bit of sympathy or at least a listening ear.

“The Fire Lord’s job is complicated,” Hei-Ran stated. “As is yours. You’ve both been tasked with the impossible: governing a world that does not wish to be governed by you. Chaos is the natural order, Kyoshi, as much as we pretend it is not. The Fire Nation must go to great lengths to maintain our control. Even if it… requires some bloodshed.”

“I didn’t ask for this.” Kyoshi shook her head. She no longer felt the dull aching in her chest that used to come with a reminder of her station, but that didn’t mean the Era of Kyoshi hadn’t been stained with blood and confusion and deceit. 

“The Spirits chose you.”

Why?

The plaintive question would’ve made her sound like a child, so Kyoshi sealed her lips and kept the pleading inside. She wanted answers. And since Hei-Ran would understand nothing more about the mysterious methods of the spirits than she did, Kyoshi decided to at least start with something the woman stood a chance at knowing.

“Was Rangi mad?” She rubbed the side of her face and dried blood flaked off, fluttering towards the ground. “When I left, I mean.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Hei-Ran’s face. “Enough to shoot flames out of her ears.”

For a moment, Kyoshi tried to picture it - a steaming mad Rangi, with her face boiling red and fists clenched into tight balls. The last time she’d gotten that upset, the Firebender had flipped a table off a balcony. For a moment, the memory tugged at the corner of Kyoshi’s mouth - lifting it into a lopsided smile. 

And then the moment passed.

“I’m sorry I killed your daughter.”

Hei-Ran frowned. “You healed her, Kyoshi.”

Only after Rangi had traveled to fight alongside the girl who’d locked her into the ground and put her mother on a possible death bed. “Because I put her in danger. It doesn’t count. Doing right by her after that was just… canceling out the bad.”

Kyoshi felt like she’d been doing that her whole life: making mistakes and then fixing them. It didn’t seem right to take the credit for something she’d messed up in the first place.

You were the one innocent party, Yun had told her. Oh, if only that were the truth.

“Hei-Ran?” Atuat had emerged from the infirmary, traveling up to where Kyoshi and the headmistress sat. Hei-Ran was on her feet immediately, but whether to appear respectable in front of the doctor or out of fear for what news she’d bring, Kyoshi couldn’t be sure.

“How is she?” Kyoshi found her way to her feet as well, Atuat’s presence sending a fresh wave of worry down her spine.

“Oh good, Kyoshi’s here, too. Saves me a trip.” Atuat took her time reaching them and with each passing moment, Kyoshi found herself more and more on edge. By the time the Waterbender made it over, she could feel her body vibrating again.

“Well?” Hei-Ran demanded, clearly just as impatient as Kyoshi, but with better control over her exterior.

“She’s asleep.” Atuat’s manner always confused Kyoshi a bit. She never seemed exhausted by the threat of death. Perhaps she’d just become too acquainted with it, or maybe mastering the power of healing made her immune to the fear. Either way, she always emerged from battle hospitals like she’d finished a rather routine examination.

“Will she be okay?” Kyoshi remembered the crunch of earth as it impaled Rangi’s back. The way the blood had rushed away from her lips. How she’d looked up at her as the life drained away. “Is the damage permanent? I know I didn’t heal her right. I tried my best, but -”

“Kyoshi.” Atuat held up her hand. “Rangi is a strong girl. She’s going to be alright. In pain, certainly, but in the end alright.”

Kyoshi exhaled shakily, barely able to keep it together enough to thank her.

“You need rest, too, Avatar,” Atuat pressed, motioning down towards the infirmary. “There’s a spare bed down the hill.”

The last thing Kyoshi wanted to do was sleep. How could she just let herself clock out when Rangi needed caring for? When the Flying Opera Company was wounded? When Jinpa still hadn’t come down from his medicine high due to her own poor measurements?

As if Atuat could read her mind, the doctor narrowed her eyes. “That monk is off his rocker. You gave him too much.”

“Sorry, sifu.”

“Rest, Kyoshi,” was the only response she got in return. “And take off those clothes. You’ve got blood all over you.”

///

“I can feel you staring at me.”

Kyoshi jumped a little, hurriedly switching her gaze to the other side of the room and away from Rangi’s bed before deciding hiding it was futile. The Firebender hadn’t moved in over two hours, but apparently, the wounded girl was more perceptive than Kyoshi had anticipated.  

“I thought you were sleeping!” Kyoshi whispered, doing her best not to disturb Kirima and Wong, who were asleep in their respective wooden beds.

“I’m resting.” Rangi still hadn’t opened her eyes. “A concept you might not be familiar with.”

A hum of relief ran through Kyoshi’s arms. If Rangi was well enough to give her shit, then maybe that meant the girl would be alright after all.

“I know how to rest.” Kyoshi crossed her arms and did her best to look wounded.  

“Yeah, and Jinpa’s a murderer.”

Kyoshi glanced over at her secretary, who was propped up against the wooden headboard and still singing to himself in dulcet tones.  

“Kyoshi, please try to sleep,” Rangi pleaded.

Easier said than done. Sitting still seemed too difficult for Kyoshi at the moment, let alone actually falling asleep.

“Yeah, well,” Kyoshi mumbled offhandedly. “I’m not really keen on seeing you die again in my dreams.” It came out sounding more dire than she’d meant.

Only then did Rangi open her eyes, staring at Kyoshi from across the way. “I’m fine.”

It would’ve been a lot more convincing if her hands weren’t locked tight around the thin cotton sheets, compensating for some sort of pain she must be feeling.

“Fine?” Kyoshi stared at her incredulously. “You were stabbed.”

“Can you two please keep it down?” Kirima suddenly cut in, gesturing to her splinted leg. “Some of us are trying to heal!”

Apparently, her ability to tell who was asleep badly needed fine-tuning.

“Noise won’t delay that process!” Kyoshi shot back, trying to keep her smile at bay. She really had missed her friends.

Silence fell back over the infirmary, and Kyoshi allowed herself to lean against the headboard for the first time all night. She drew in a shaky breath, basking in the safety she felt around the Flying Opera Company - even if their legs were broken.

It was a few minutes before Rangi spoke again, lowering her voice to whisper in that raspy way of hers. “You’re pretty far away, you know.”

At first, Kyoshi wanted to protest that of course her energy was distant - she’d killed one of her closest friends and nearly lost the other one - before she realized Rangi was speaking literally. She closed her mouth. Hard.

A little too hard, actually. Her jaw still ached where Yun had thrown the discs.

Rangi even managed a little grin. “Do you think Atuat will kill you for sleeping with a patient?”

Giddy with the idea of lying beside Rangi again, Kyoshi slid out of bed and made her way over to the other side of the room. She’d flirted with the idea of climbing in before, but with Rangi’s fragile state, she hadn’t wanted to cause any more damage than she’d already done.

“You’re not gonna break me,” Rangi mumbled, but Kyoshi still saw her struggle to make space in the small frame.

“This is a bad -”

“Will you quit worrying and just crawl in, please?” Rangi did her best to pat the bed beside her, wincing horribly. “I’ve suffered worse.”

“Mmm, what a terrible fate,” Kyoshi grinned, finally allowing herself to gingerly lie down beside Rangi. “Sleeping next to Kyoshi. What an awful - hey!”

Rangi had elbowed her in the ribs. She tried to laugh, but it barely masked the tremor behind it.

“Stop hurting yourself,” Kyoshi hissed, laying an angry kiss on the Firebender’s cheek. “I mean it.”

In response, Rangi moved to curl up closer against Kyoshi’s chest, her eyes falling shut again. For a long while, they stayed just like that - Rangi in too much pain to move and Kyoshi too nervous about causing her any more. It felt awfully reminiscent of the first time they’d shared a bed, with Kyoshi awake all night inhaling the smell of Rangi’s hair against her lips.

Kyoshi had vowed to protect her then, and she still wanted to protect her now. She didn’t miss the way Rangi’s face screwed up as she slept, sleep inhibiting her ability to hide the discomfort. A couple of times, Atuat came to check on her. She clicked her teeth together at the sight of Kyoshi in the bed, but didn’t seem altogether surprised. The doctor didn’t force her away either, something for which Kyoshi was eternally grateful.

In the blue-grey hours of the morning, Kyoshi finally succumbed to the heaviness in her eyelids - letting them shut as her head fell back against the headboard - at last, too tired to worry about any new dangers coming for them that night.

-----

💖  that’s all for now :) i might post a little more soon! i’m very excited to get this up on ao3 in the near future!

💖 if you enjoy my writing and want to commission me, send me a message! my commissions are open! 

💖 keep an eye out for more commissioned pieces coming soon :) 

#kyoshi #rise of kyoshi #rangshi #rangi #rangi x kyoshi #shadow of kyoshi #avatar the last airbender #writing commissions #my writing #longfic #sneak peak #writing #wlw #avatar kyoshi #atla #fic

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire: Frankie's Secret

Playin’ With Fire: Frankie’s secret

Summary: Dani and Frankie have been friends for almost two years now. While at a party, Dani learns Frankie’s darkest secret. Will their friendship surpass this hurdle? WIll they finally cross that line they have been teetering on? Or will this be the wedge that drives them apart?

Warnings: DRUG USE (straight up use of cocaine), ANGST (It starts it off), explicit language, a heated make out session, implication of smut (but no details because I suck at writing smut), Hurt!Frankie because it breaks my heart. I hurt my own heart writing this.

Pairings: Dani x Frankie, Frankie x ofc, Dani x Santiago

Word Count: 4,280

A/N: Part 2! Y'all this story is a wild ride. I am not responsible for any tears that are shed while reading this.

Tags: @221bshrlocked @danniburgh (if you want to be tagged, LMK)

It wasn’t often that Dani went to a party that wasn’t being hosted by a Miller brother. Yet, here she was at some random house with a lot of random people. Will said it would be fun, that she needed to relax. Benny said that she wouldn’t be alone because Frankie would be there. So how in the hell did she find herself standing around with none of the guys in sight?

Dani wandered aimlessly through the crowd of people, looking for someone she knew. She came across a door, and it seemed to be quiet on the other end. She quickly turned the knob to see that it was unlocked. Pushing the door open, she revealed her best friend, with a half naked brunette in his lap, snorting what looked like coke.

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. Dani couldn’t tell if it was because of the girl or the drug. “Tequila.” Frankie whimpered, but didn’t move a muscle. The girl in his lap twisted to see who opened the door.

“Either join in or get out.” The girl demanded, and Dani slammed the door shut. She knew she probably looked crazy; Tears running down her face, smearing her makeup, frantically looking for Will or Benny. She found the youngest Miller first, who immediately left the woman he was chatting up upon seeing Dani’s distressed state.

“Tequila, what happened?” He asked, wiping tears from her face. She tried to tell him, but it only came out in broken sobs. Benny was able to pick up “Frankie” and “cocaine”; After that, she was incoherent. Benny wrapped his arms around her, trying to give her some comfort. “Come on, let’s find Will and go.”

It took twenty minutes for Benny to track down Will, who was hooking up with the party host, Sara. Benny explained that Dani came up to him, sobbing and mentioned Frankie and coke. Will rushed to get dressed, apologizing for his hasty exit.

Dani was standing outside by Will’s jeep, eyes swollen and face red. Will rushed over, “Teq, I’m so sorry.” He comforted and placed a kiss to her head before ushering her into the car, just in time for Frankie to come running out the door. Benny took three large strides toward him before throwing a right hook that connected hard with his jaw.

“The fuck were you thinking, Fish? I thought you quit that shit!” Benny yelled at his friend who clutched his face where a red bruise was already starting to form, struggling to get up off the ground.

“Please, Benny.” Frankie started as he stood up, gesturing to the girl crying in the front seat “Let me talk to her.” He begged, trying to move toward the car. Will stepped in.

“You’ve done enough, Catfish. Leave her alone.” Will growled at the man before him. Frankie, exhaled a shaky breath and took a step back from his friends.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I’m so sorry.” He yelled a little louder, hoping Dani could hear him through the window. She turned her head just in time to see the same brunette that was seated on his lap, start dragging him back inside.

Dani didn’t leave her room for three days. She barely touched anything Will or Benny brought her to eat. She barely slept, the image of Frankie doing lines of the white substance haunted her dreams. She tried to focus on the crappy ‘B’ rated horror movie playing on Netflix.

A knock on the door drew her from the screen. “It’s open.” She said numbly. It was Will. He came in carrying a tray of food and a few water bottles. Dani noticed and gave him a quiet ‘thank you’, before turning her attention back to her laptop.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will asked her just like he had every day before. Today she seemed ready.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She whispered, still looking at the screen. Will took a seat next to her on the bed.

“It wasn’t our story to tell. As far as we knew, he cleaned up after being discharged. Tequila, I promise you, if any of us knew, we would have told you.” Will tried to explain to her, knowing that his words weren’t going to help much.

Tears slowly started to trickle down her cheeks. She felt so stupid, letting herself get so close to him. Will pulled the computer away from her lap, sitting it on her bedside table. She instantly curled into him as sobs wracked her body. Will felt so helpless. On one hand, he has his best friend who has a drug problem and on the other, his best friend who has a broken heart. He didn’t know where to begin to fix either. Will noticed that the sobs finally stopped and her breathing evened out. She was finally asleep. He could have wiggled out from her hold, but instead, he made himself comfortable and fell asleep, too.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Frankie?” Benny’s voice stirred Will awake. He shot up off the bed and ran to the living room. He found Benny holding Catfish back from entering the doorway.

“I need to talk to her, Benny. I have to- shit, I have to explain myself.” Frankie begged his friend.

Will could see his brother getting angrier by the second, so he intervened. “Go check on her, make sure she’s still sleeping. I’ll handle this.” Will prompted his brother. Benny relaxed, moving away from Frankie. Will slid into his spot, blocking him from coming inside.

“Will, please.” Frankie begged. “I just want to see her. I’m sorry for this. I never wanted to hurt her.” All Frankie wanted was to make sure she was okay. He was about to speak again when Dani’s voice broke through the silence. Frankie took in her state, hair in a bun, eyes rimmed red and puffy.

“It’s okay, Ironhead.” She murmured, arms wrapped around herself in mock comfort. Will turned himself to face her. He brought a hand up to caress her face, erasing stray tears. He gave her his best ‘are you sure?’ look. She nodded, “I’ll be okay, Will. I’ll yell if I need you.” She tried to give him a smile, but she was so damn tired.

Will looked back at Frankie, “I love you, man, but she better not need me." The blonde threatened him and Frankie knew he meant it. He shook his head in agreement; Frankie would gladly let Will hurt him. He just wanted to make this right. Will moved over, letting Frankie pass him into the living room. Frankie looked around. Out of all the times he sat in the room, he never imagined himself sitting here because of this.

Dani moved to take a seat across from him. She gave Will a look to let him know that she was okay, and he left the room. She focused her attention back to the man in front of her. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles under them, which didn’t complement the five o’clock shadow that dusted his face. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her or the drugs.

Frankie noticed Dani looking over his features, and he felt ashamed, like he didn’t deserve to have her look at him. He hung his head low, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. He knew he couldn’t hide his face forever, but for now, the floor was looking pretty good.

Dani shuffled in her seat, trying to get herself comfortable before diving into a conversation she really did not want to have. As she thought of what she was going to say, Frankie started to apologize.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Teq.” He raised his head, tears chasing each other down his face. “I know that sorry doesn’t mean much, but I am.” Frankie wiped his tears away as he finally made eye contact with her.

“Why, Frankie?” Her words were barely detectable, but Frankie heard them. Those two words put a vice grip around his heart and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know why. Why did he let himself fall off the wagon after so long? Why did he let Vanessa back into his life when he could have had Dani? He didn’t have any answers for her.

“Can I start from the beginning?” He asked her, hoping they could talk things out. Dani thought it over. Did she really want to hear this? The choice was obvious. she needed to know and gave Frankie a curt nod.

Frankie moved to the floor in front of her chair, sitting crossed legged, looking up at her. “It started after my first helo crash.” Frankie began.

“This is gonna be a bumpy ride boys,” Frankie yelled through the headset. He was maneuvering the helo through gunfire, trying to find a safe place to land.

“Fish, we got smoke back here!” Pope bellowed, hanging onto the doorway of the cockpit. Frankie looked back at his friend. How was he going to do this? He looked back down to the earth, and all he saw was desert sand. “Fish! We gotta land, man. Or this thing’s gonna blow!” Santiago reiterated.

Frankie found a spot far enough away from the flying bullets, that he could try to land as safely as possible. When he started to bring it down, alarms started blaring, lights flashed. “Fuck! Guys, buckle up. This isn’t going to be good.”

“That crash broke Benny’s arm. Since then, I was a nervous wreck behind the controls. I almost got everyone killed because I couldn’t land the damned helo. My mistake almost killed my friends.” Frankie paused to compose himself. “At first, I only did it to calm my nerves, then I just lost control of it, using whenever I could. I was discharged with my license suspended. I did a rehab program and luckily, I was able to get my license reinstated.”

Dani tried to comprehend what he was telling her. All of her medical training told her that he had a disease, an addiction. She wanted to reach out and console him, but he kept this from her. She had shared all of her secrets with him and he kept this huge one from her. “What about the girl?” She asked, knowing she had no right to be jealous. Frankie wasn’t hers.

“Vanessa was a fling, someone I would get high with. She was just there.” He gulped, “I wasn’t looking to get high. It was a moment of weakness. I hadn’t used it in almost thirteen months.” Since he met her. He was laying everything out for her and he was praying she would still accept him.

Dani sat there, staring at the man in front of her. He was unrecognizable. He looked sad, broken. Nowhere near the happy, flirty, person she met on Benny’s birthday. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to understand. She wanted to help him past this, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she was strong enough.

“Please say something, hermosa. Lo siento mucho.” Frankie apologized again, reaching to grab her hands. She didn’t pull away like he thought she would. Instead, she moved to kneel on the ground with him.

She released his hands to pull him in for a hug. The gesture was enough to completely destroy Frankie’s resolve. Frankie sobbed into her. “Lo siento mucho. Lo haré mejor, lo prometo.” Dani held him for what felt like forever, stroking his hair.

“I want to help you, Frankie.” She whispered into his hair, still holding him close. “But I need you to want to help yourself.” Frankie’s head bobbed in agreement. He needed this.

The following weeks were hard on Frankie. Detoxing off the drug was a lot harder than he remembered, but Dani was there every step of the way. The exhaustion, shakes, and cravings were tolerable, but when the nightmares started, Frankie didn’t know if he would make it.

Dani let herself into Frankie’s apartment after her shift at the hospital. “Frankie?” She called out but did not get a reply. She moved further inside, making her way to Frankie’s room. She heard the shower running as she walked into his bedroom. “Frankie?” She called out again.

As she got closer to the bathroom, she could hear Frankie’s broken sobs over the shower. She rushed in to see him sitting in the corner of the tub, knees drawn to his chest. He raised his head when the door slammed into the wall.

“Dani?” He choked out, like he was surprised to see her. She rushed over to him. Feeling that the water was freezing, she quickly turned it off. She grabbed a towel, throwing it over him to give him some form of cover.

“Fuck, fish. What’re you doing? Trying to give yourself hypothermia?” Dani moved to grab more towels. She was able to get him to stand up and move into the bedroom. She searched his room for warm clothing. “Here.” She handed him the sweats and hoodie she found. “I’m gonna make you something to eat while you get dressed.” She exited the room and closed the door behind her. She felt her own tears threatening to fall down her face. It was hard to see her friend like this. She wiped away the drops that strayed down, trying to compose herself.

Frankie emerged from his room and followed the savory smell coming from the kitchen. “Hermosa.” His voice cracks a little, but she still hears him. Smiling, she turns to see him, arms wrapped around himself. “Shit, Teq.” He walks over to her, bringing a hand up to caress her face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” He whispers, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m okay, Fish.” She mumbles into his chest. “I made bacon and eggs.” She wasn’t going to say that was all she could make with the contents in his kitchen because the man was already down.

“Thank you, Dani. For everything. I think the worst has finally passed.” Frankie told her as they sat down at his tiny dining table. She handed him his plate before placing her own in front of her. The two ate in a comfortable silence.

“You wanna talk about it?” Dani asked as Frankie cleared the table. Frankie placed the dishes in the sink and turned back to where she sat at the table.

“I keep having the same nightmare. I’m in a helo and it's going down. It’s just like that first crash, except you’re there. And there’s nothing I can do to save you.” Frankie describes his dream, fighting back the emotion that is pouring through him.

“I’m here, Frankie. I’m here.” She tells him as she walks over. Taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Feel that? I’m alive.” She moves it over his own, “You are, too. We are going to figure this out together.” The tension between them is palpable. Frankie looks down at Dani, her blue orbs staring back at him and all he can think about his pressing his lips to hers. Instead, he pulls away. She deserves more than a fuck up like me, he thought.

“Thank you. For dinner, fuck, for everything. You should go home and get some rest.” He practically pushed her out the door. “I’ll be okay.” He reassured her one last time before she said good-bye. He watched her walk to her car, climb inside, and drive away.

After the almost kiss, Dani did her best to give Frankie space. She knew he was going through a lot and he was probably having a lot of conflicted emotions. She stayed away from his apartment for about a week, checking in via text. He always responded immediately.

It was Saturday evening, and she had just finished her ER shift. She had sent a text to Frankie earlier in the day and still had not heard from him. Deciding that a trip to his apartment was warranted, Dani made her way over.

She knocked on the door three times before it opened. “Vanessa?” Dani choked out as the brunette stood there, wrapped in a towel. “Where’s Frankie?” She asked, her voice a little shaky.

“He’s busy, sweetie. Go home.” Vanessa snarked with a smirk on her face. Dani rolled her eyes, before storming past her toward Frankie’s room. She all but kicked the door open, sending the handle smashing into the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Frankie yelled, coming out of his bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. The angry look on his face dropped as soon as he saw her. “Fuck.” He whispered, dropping his head. Dani knew immediately what was going on.

“Frankie, tell me this isn’t what it looks like.” She wished, pointing to the powdered substance on his dresser. He didn’t answer. “Frankie, please.” Her voice cracked, “Tell me you aren’t doing fucking coke again.” She pleaded. He raised his head to look at her, but did not answer.

She shook her head in disappointment before walking out of the room. “Dani!” Frankie called as he chased after her. “Dani, please, don’t go.” He begged her. She stopped in her tracks before she reached the door. Vanessa scoffed, muttering under her breath “to let her go”.

She slowly turned around. “Fuck you, Frankie Morales. Fuck you and fuck her.” She spat, pointing to Vanessa who was sitting on Frankie’s couch. Dani focused back on Frankie. “Thank you for wasting my time, my effort, my love. I told you when I started to help you that you had to want to get clean. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t. So, fuck you.” She blubbered, tears of regret and hurt welling in her eyes, spilling over her lashes.

She didn’t wait for a reply as she walked out of the door. It closed behind her with a loud thud. She got to her car and let out the sobs she was holding in. Dani had never felt anything like this. Even when she caught him at the party, it didn’t hurt this bad. She felt like some punched her in the stomach and could hear her heart pounding in her ears. What was she supposed to do now?

Dani pulled into her driveway to find Santiago sitting outside on the porch, like he was waiting on someone to come home. She put her car in park and he’s there to open her door. “¿Estás bien?” He asked as she stepped out.

She didn’t dare to look the brunette in the eyes, because she knew she'd break. “I’m fine.” She replied curtly, looking at the ground, walking toward the house. He followed quickly behind her. Once inside, she threw her bag onto the couch, going straight to the kitchen. She poured a shot of tequila, offering one for Santiago. He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Shit, Teq. What’s wrong?” He asks again, worry laced in his voice. He can tell she’s been crying. Her eyes are red, and her face is blotchy. She downs the alcohol and pours another.

“He’s doing coke again.” She rasped out, throwing back the second drink. Slamming the glass on the counter, she left Santiago and walked to her room.

He ran a hand down his face before tailing her. What the fuck have you done, Catfish. He thought. He found Dani laying face first into her pillow. “What do you mean he’s doing coke again?” He questions, sitting next to her legs.

She rolled over and sat up. “I mean, I hadn’t heard from him all day. I was worried. I got to his apartment and Vanessa was there.” she hiccuped, falling back on the pillow again. “There was coke on his dresser.” Dani sniffled, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Dani.” He whispered, not really sure if she heard him. He is sorry. He’s sorry that Frankie is being an idiot. He’s sorry that she’s hurting. And he’s sorry that all he wants to do is make it better.

Dani fought to push her sadness down. She wiped her tears away and moved to sit up again, so that she’s looking at him. “I’m sorry, you looked like you had something you wanted to say.” She apologized and gave him her full attention.

Santiago nodded. “Yeah. I’m um, I’m going to South America. Colombia. I got a contract with the military.” He told her. “I’m supposed to leave in a month.” Her face dropped, and for a second she wonders how much heartbreak a person can take.

“South America? For how long?” She asked in disbelief. How could Santi be going to a different country? She just lost Frankie, she couldn’t lose him, too.

“I’m not sure.” He was being honest. He didn’t know when or if he would be back. It wasn’t going to be the safest contract. Dani sat there staring at him, speechless. “Teq?” He said, and she lifted her sad eyes to his. Almost as if he could read her mind, he promised, “I’ll come back.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know that, Santi.” She mumbled, “What if you don’t come back?” The brunette shakes his head, telling her that she can’t think like that.

His cedar brown eyes met her blue ones. He reached out for her, pulling her into his embrace. He had an internal debate on whether or not he should say anything. It would be completely selfish of him, especially since he knew how Fish felt about her. That didn’t stop him from saying, "I have a contact down there who can get you certification to practice there. You could come with me, work in a hospital there."

Dani's body stiffened. Go to South America with Santi? She couldn't, could she? Santi could practically see the gears turning in her head. "It's not a marriage proposal, babe." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dani let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah, like I would ever assume you are proposing marriage." Santi rolled his eyes, squeezing her tighter.

"I could settle down for the right woman." He rebutted, and they both burst into laughter. They knew Santi wasn’t the ‘settle down’ type. His arms relaxed around her and she wiggled her way out of his hold to sit back down on her bed.

"Seriously though, Tequila. If you want to come, the option is there." He offered her again. She could look into it. She could help so many less fortunate people, the whole reason why she wanted to become a doctor. After tonight, maybe it would be for the best.

"Okay." She says and his eyes go wide, like he didn't hear her correctly. "I want to go." She reiterates. Now he knows he wasn't hearing things. A huge smile crossed his face and he scooped her up into his arms again. Dani sighed in contentment. He smelled like mint and leather, even though he wasn’t wearing any, with a hint of whiskey.

She leaned her head back, so that she could look up at him. She was surprised to find him staring back at her. Her eyes subconsciously flickered to his lips as his tongue swiped out to dampen them. She didn't know if it was the buzz from the alcohol earlier, but she pushed forward to crash her lips into his.

Santi froze at the feeling of her lips on his. It was if he had fallen into one of his dreams, where the blonde woman had been running rampant. His hand found purchase at the back of her head, pulling her closer as their lips moved in tandem.

Dani's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers playing in the curls growing at the base of his head. She felt his tongue dance along her bottom lip, as if to ask for permission to enter. She parted her lips, finally tasting him as their tongues met. He even tasted like mint and whiskey.

Santi nibbled her bottom lip, which drew a low moan from her. He knew right then that he wanted more sounds from her. He tightened the grip on the back of her head, pulling it to the side, so that he could have access to her neck. He broke the kiss unceremoniously, before attacking her neck, finding her sweet spot immediately.

"Santi," Dani whimpered with need. Santi groaned at the sound of his name coming off her lips. She sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear more.

He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes so dark with lust, Santi could barely see the baby blue. Her hair was a mess where he buried his fingers. She looked absolutely beautiful. "Fuck, Tequila." Santi said breathlessly. His hands caressed her face, one thumb swiping over her bottom lip. "Fuck, as much as I want to do this. I can't." He said as his hands dropped and he stepped back. "I'm sorry, Teq. You would hate me in the morning."

Dani, brain still fuzzy with need, nodded, "Yeah, yeah. You're right. It's best that we stop now." She hesitantly agreed, when really what she wanted was for him to make her forget. Make her forget Frankie. Make her forget work. Make her forget her own name.

Santi took a deep breath, running a hand across his face. His eyes met hers once more, trying to find any signs of regret. There were none. "We really shouldn't do this." He said one more time before connecting their lips again.

Translations:

Hermosa- Beautiful

Lo siento mucho- I’m really sorry.

Lo haré mejor, lo prometo- I’ll do better, I promise.

¿estás bien?- Are you okay?

#santiago garcia #frankie morales #will miller #benny miller #santiago garcia x ofc #frankie morales x ofc #frankie catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #will ironhead miller #triple frontier #frankie morales fic #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia imagine #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fic #frankie morales angst #angst #kat writes

[themangolorian]

look how long this love can hold its breath

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: (slow burn/fake married) When Pablo Escobar escalates his war on Colombian law enforcement, the DEA is getting desperate to pin down his location. Reader is forced to go undercover with another agent, one she can’t stand, Javier Peña. Worst of all, she’ll have to try to infiltrate the Cali Cartel while pretending to be Peña’s wife.

warnings: mild language

a/n: i know it’s a generally overdone trope but i couldn’t resist doing my own version of fake married Javi with a pretty antagonistic reader. hope you all enjoy!

You’d been assigned to an undercover assignment of sorts. You were infiltrating the Cali Cartel. Sort of. The mission was simply to gain inside information on Escobar’s whereabouts. To finally bring that hijoeputa down.

The only problem was your assigned partner.

Javier fucking Peña.

You’d never worked with him, but you knew his reputation as a womanizer. His machismo. And, worst of all, he was an American.

You’d encountered him briefly on separate occasions in the briefing room and each time he’d rubbed you the wrong way. He had a habit of talking over you and every other woman in the unit. Well, honestly, him and his partner Murphy liked to talk over everyone but- to put it plainly, you didn’t like Javier Peña.

“What’s the plan?” You asked in your typical no-nonsense way as you joined him and Murphy in the briefing room.

Incredibly, the up aboves had put these two pendejos in charge of the operation.

“Hola amor,” Peña lilted at you with a smirk from his seat across from you, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You glared at him. “What the fu-.”

“You’re married.” Murphy tossed the manila envelope on the table in your direction, interrupting your outburst.

He knew you and Peña got on each others’ nerves. This was his way of avoiding the inevitable bickering. It was a shitty way of doing so though.

You cursed under your breath as you fell into a chair and swept the envelope open.

The other two were quiet as your eyes scanned the documents.

“Fuck no.” You pushed the papers containing your’s and Peña’s aliases back at them.

Señor y Señora Villalobos. Dealers disguised as diamond salespeople. Married. To each other.

“Told you.” Peña told Murphy, his tone all-knowing.

“Cállate,” you snarled at Peña.

“You first,” he glared back.

“Hey,” Murphy exclaimed. He rested the tip of his index finger on the files and glared at you both now.

“This isn’t a request. These are orders.” He rubbed at his mustache and this time directed his gaze at you. “You either follow the mission or find another job.”

You glared from him to Peña who didn’t meet your gaze, too busy staring at a point on the table.

You threw your hands up in defeat, reached across and snatched the folder then huffed out of the room, muttering all the while. “Estos tontos Americanos vienen a mi país y piensen que tengo miedo de ellos, malparidos...”

Murphy looked from your retreating figure to Peña who was watching you walk away with amusement in his eyes. “What was that? What did she say?”

“She’ll do it,” Peña said, smirking. He stood and picked up his own file. “And learn Spanish while I’m gone, cabrón.”

Peña rapped Steve on the arm with the file affectionately and then he was gone.

Steve rubbed his face again, tiredly, worried that given the short fuses of both you and Peña, the DEA was making a huge mistake.

*****

“¡Apúúúúúúrateeee!” You dragged the word out, tapping your foot impatiently against the brake.

You were in an agency assigned car waiting around the corner from Peña’s flat for the pendejo to come outside so you could start the long drive to Cali.

Finally.

He threw his bag into the backseat then slid onto the passenger’s seat.

“Amor,” he greeted you with a sardonic smile as he slipped his sunglasses on.

“¿Y por qué tardaste tanto?” You ignored the stupid nickname he was no doubt using to taunt you in order to ask him what had taken him so long.

“I couldn’t find the rings.” He held up a shiny golden wedding band, and you saw a matching one already around his own finger.

For a beat you merely glared at the ring as if all of this was its fault, then you were taking it and roughly sliding it onto your own finger.

“Careful,” Peña said as he inclined his seat so he could sleep. “Keep being so charming and all the narcos are going to want to marry you.”

You revved the engine and took off jerkily, turning the volume of the radio up to drown him out.

The trip was a long one. You both took turns driving. Peña kept turning down the radio while you drove so he could sleep, and you kept changing the station while he was driving. You argued over where to eat and what temperature to keep the air at or whether to open the windows.

“We’re supposed to be married, not divorced,” he’d quipped at you once while he was driving after you’d knocked his hand out of the way of your water bottle as you reached for it.

You turned the heater up then, knowing it would bother him, even though you were already sweltering. He left it though, too stubborn to engage you at your game.

Until you opened your window. Then he was slamming the shut off button for the heater.

You glared at him...then- A mansion outside his window caught your eye. You watched it whiz past.

“What?” He slowed and turned the radio volume down.

“You passed it.” You sat back in your seat. “Coño.” You muttered under your breath.

He pulled the car over. When he let the car idle instead of turning around, you looked at him to see him already watching you, sunglasses off.

“What?”

“This is it. One wrong move and we’re both dead.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You glared fiercely his way. “Are you reminding me how to do my job, Peña?”

He sighed. “Just- I know we don’t get along, but this weekend, we don’t have a choice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look just because you swooped in from the grand US of A to save all us heathens,” you fluttered your hands mockingly, “doesn’t mean I need you to remind me of my job. I’ve been doing this for longer. If anyone in this car understands what’s at stake, it’s me.” You finished, angry.

“That why you hate me so much?” He asked thoughtfully in a tone so soft you had to look at his face to discern his intent for asking.

He wasn’t glaring anymore. If anything, he seemed curious.

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered but your tone belied your words.

He chuckled. “That’s a good start.” He started turning the car around. “Amor.” He added and suddenly you were fuming again.

*****

The introductions with the narcos and their wives went well enough, better even than you’d hoped. They accepted you as one of their own. It wasn’t hard for you to fit in, you were Colombiana to the bone. Peña on the other hand… But he’d sold it well. Almost too well. This had been your first opportunity at seeing how much he’d picked up during his time in Colombia so far. And it seemed like he’d picked up a lot.

Peña hadn’t been wrong when he’d indicated some of the narcos would take an interest in you. They greeted you both warmly, but their hands enveloped yours tightly and their eyes lingered just a moment too long. You thought Peña must have noticed too, and surely he worried that allowing such blatant flirting would endanger your cover.

That must have been why you suddenly felt his arm encircling your bare shoulders. You tried not to tense in surprise, so much so that you let yourself relax against him in a natural manner. He continued the pretense, kissing your forehead as he made a joke with the narcos about keeping the wife happy.

Inside, though, you were having a crisis and you hoped the look on your face was one caught between amused and loving. A shock had gone through you when Peña’s lips had met your skin. His act was so convincing; how was he so good at this?

You thought back to the first stop you’d made earlier on in the car drive. When you’d gotten out of the car, Peña had whistled softly upon seeing your sundress, warming your cheeks and angering you simultaneously. But he’d said nothing else. And you’d thought on it during the ensuing drive. Normally you wore suits to the office, pants and skirts, but suits all the same. And you’d made a point of never going out with Peña or Murphy. So he’d never seen you in anything else. Against your will, you wondered what the whistle had meant. Not that you cared, but you didn’t need to add one more thing to the long list of things you already had to think about.

You smothered the thoughts. They were distracting and unnecessary and right now you were lucky that Peña was so good at this because he was carrying you both.

As you trailed the narcos out back to sit and have drinks by the pool, you slipped your arm around his waist, needing to carry your weight in the farce and not wanting to have to hear later from Peña about what you should have done.

“Así,” you heard him murmur approvingly.

You dug your nails into his side and heard him grunt in pain.

Your smile then at the wife of one of the narcos holding out a drink for you was genuine.

You spent an hour bantering back and forth with the other couples.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think Peña was happily married in his private life. He played the part perfectly.

As you were both sitting at the poolside table, he would reach over absently and take your fingers in his. The first time a jolt went through you again. But you took the cue. You alternated touches. You would rest your hand on his thigh. You swore he jumped the first time you did that, but he hid it well. He took long draws from your glass. Once he even fed you an olive. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying torturing you. He knew you hated olives. But the gesture drew laughs from the men and awwws from the women. It was then you noticed how they were swooning over Peña. It upset you only because you realized that if the pinche idioto was in the position to do it, he’d sleep with all their wives.

Finally and blessedly, your hosts suggested that you two retire to your room before dinner. Peña was to join the other men in Pacho’s office just before dinner for a discussion. You assumed that was when any useful information would be recovered. You realized then that you were here more for decoration than anything.

You fumed as you let Peña lead you by the hand up the mansion’s grand staircase. You both followed the housekeeper who led you to your room.

You dropped Peña’s hand the second the door closed behind you. He gave you a look but then the two of you were scouring the room, searching for any hidden recording devices. You shook your head at him, but he put his finger to his lips and tilted his head toward the bathroom. You raised your hands questioningly but followed him all the same.

He was reaching into the shower and turning it on full blast.

“¿Qué haces?” You hissed at his ear, having to get close to be heard.

“We don’t know for sure it’s clear. We only talk freely like this.” He murmured into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. You shivered involuntarily at the sensation.

You both established that your cover had been bought. And what most likely awaited him at the meeting. You left him to take a shower and went to lounge on the bed.

Several minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened releasing a wall of steam and-

You sat up, glaring, “What are you doing?”

Peña put a finger to his lips furiously. “Adonde está mi maleta, amor?” His sweet tone was a direct contradiction to the furrow in his brow. He shook his head at you, gesturing to his suitcase as if to ask how you expected him to get dressed without clothes.

“Allí, corazón.” You said for show, just in case, glaring at him as he took his time going through his bag to find an outfit. Your eyes tried not to linger on his bare skin and the way water from the shower trickled down his toned back.

You averted your eyes when he turned back, but he was smiling as if he knew you’d been watching him, so you flipped over on the bed to face the other direction.

When Peña left the room with the sound of a fake kiss, you were too nervous to sit still. You had to get ready for dinner anyway. But you were anxious all the same. Your cover could be blown at any second. You stored a handgun under the bathroom sink before getting into the shower and kept an ear out for any strange noises. But nothing happened. You dressed and put your perfume and makeup on. Still Peña was absent. You slid a smaller gun into the holster on your inner thigh and went to join the other wives wherever they were.

They turned out to be in a bar off the kitchen. Luckily already tipsy and talkative. They handed you a drink, but you took only tiny sips as you engaged them in conversation. You struck gold when one of them brought up Tata, Escobar’s wife. They were gossiping over who had a better kitchen. You hung onto every word while providing input as shallowly as possible. Apparently your and Peña’s kitchen was inlaid with marble and dark hickory wood.

Nothing they said gave up the location of the Escobars though and the subject soon turned to jewelry, at which point the women fawned over the diamond necklace provided to you by the agency. Which was your cue to try to sell them diamonds.

Soon enough the staff came in to lead you all to the formal dining room where the men were waiting. They all stood but it was Peña’s face you were focused on.

His lips parted when he saw you and his brow smoothed over. His eyes traveled from yours down along your entire figure. You couldn’t help but get the slightest bit flustered. You avoided his gaze, but he was coming your way to take your hand and lead you over to the seat next to his. It was strange. Surrounded as you both were by actual enemies, it felt like you were the only two in the room. It confused you and irritated you, but you managed to catch your breath again once you were seated at the dinner table. You ignored Peña’s dark eyes on you and took a long sip from your wine glass, trying to focus on the mission at hand.

“Not too much,” you heard him whisper as you placed the wine glass back down.

And there he was.

Underneath the table, you adjusted your feet, “accidentally” stepping on his shoe with one sharp heel.

The curse he muttered in pain under his breath had you smiling as you dove into the conversation, ready to take on a room full of the people who had played the bad guys in your life for so long.

masterlist

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[demxters]

In Love and War

theo raeken x reader 

request: @bricksatanakinswindow​​ hi bby can you do 15 from the angst prompt with either theo raeken or liam dunbar 💕

15.  “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood 

teen wolf masterlist   

a/n: ty for the request bricks! i forgot how much i loved theo raeken in season 6 shoot. anyways, first time writing for theo so lemme know what y’all think! 

*** 

They say all is fair in love and war. The first time you laid your eyes upon the mysterious new guy across the hall, you felt your heart skip a beat and your palms begin to sweat. You’re not sure what it was that drew you to him that day. Whether it was his closed off demeanor or the arrogant smirk that seemed to be etched onto his features. There was something about him that drew you to him. He warned you, they all did, and yet you didn’t listen. Your heart was too naive. 

“Theo Raeken,” he said with a smile, holding out his hand for you to shake. 

You skeptically look at the boy, taking his hand in yours, clearing your throat when you realize you’ve been holding his hand for a minute too long. “You new to Beacon Hills, Theo?” 

“Not necessarily. I used to live here as a kid,” he replied, staring off into the distance as if he were reliving some kind of memory. “How about you? Surely I’d remember someone as gorgeous as you living here in Beacon Hills all your life.” 

“I actually moved here in my freshmen year.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and you nervously fiddle with your fingers. The bell rings pulling you out of the trance the boy had put you in. “I gotta get to class but maybe I’ll see you around?” you question him as you definitely did not cross your fingers behind your back in hopes to see him again. 

“Oh most definitely,” he answers you. And with one last smile, he turns leaving you standing in the middle of the hallway like a grinning idiot. What the hell just happened? 

He cared for you more than he wanted to admit. You weren’t part of his plan originally. He barely had any clue who you were until that day in the hallway when you accidentally bumped into him. He hadn’t thought of you much since then until he saw you talking to Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski after school. That’s when he knew he got lucky because now he had the perfect person to help him slither his way into the pack. 

“You know Stiles is just being a little asshole again, right?” you whispered to him as the two of you laid down in the back of his truck, staring up at the night sky. “You’re not a bad person. You saved Lydia’s life for god's sake.” 

Theo couldn’t shake the feelings that you gave him, and it scared him. For the first time in years, he finally had someone who didn’t see him as a mistake, as a failure. You saw him as the man he wanted to be, the Theo Raeken he wanted to be. With you, he could be the Theo that just went to high school and worried about winning over the girl he liked. With you, he felt as if all the weight on his shoulders were lifted. With you the world fell away. And that was all that mattered to him. But he couldn’t have you feeling the same way. Not with what was to come. And yet he couldn’t make himself pull away. Everything about you only drew him closer. “Hey Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

He swallows harshly, grabbing your hand that laid next to his. “Can you promise me something?” 

“Anything,” you softly answer back. 

“Promise you won’t fall in love with me,” his voice falters at the end, his heart breaking with every word. 

But you just chuckle, not thinking much of it, and reply by taking your hand out from under his and sitting up with a smile. “That won’t be a problem, Raeken. That much is sure.” 

“Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah I promise…” 

You let out a quiet sob into your pillow, careful not to wake the others. His pleas and cries played in your head like a broken record. There was never a night where you weren’t there for him. His night terrors bothered him at night and you were the only one who could calm him down. Something about that fact always brought a small smile to your face. Crawling out of your sleeping bag, you carefully made your way through the sea of sleeping teens surrounding you, and quietly made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a cup of water, you stand at the counter, staring at the moon from the window above your kitchen sink, thinking about the first time you realized you just might have broken your promise. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Like such a mess. His cocky and confident demeanor was gone leaving him in his most vulnerable state. You weren’t sure if it was his whimpers or his sobs that woke you up first but the minute you heard the boy beside you make a noise, you found yourself wide awake and sitting up beside him. His body was shaking and he was whispering incoherent words under his breath. But something about the way his face was scrunched up made you realize he wasn’t just having a bad dream. “Theo,” you whisper, slightly shaking his shoulder.  

You get no response. “Theo wake up,” you try again, louder this time and putting some more force into your shake. The boy is still shaking and sobbing in your bed, each sob getting louder and louder than the first. You don’t know what else to do so you wrap your arms around his waist, grabbing his hands that rested on his stomach, and squeeze him tight. You rest your forehead against his back, gently shushing him and rubbing circles onto his palms. 

He awakens with a gasp, almost getting up in a panic, when your familiar scent fills his nostrils and the feeling of your hands pull him back to reality. He hears your shushes subside, guessing that you’ve realized he’s finally awake. “Y/N,” he whispers, into the dark hoping to hear your soft voice instead of the metal whirring that won’t stop ringing in his ears. 

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” 

And that’s all it took for Theo Raeken to fall apart. Turning around in your arms, he cupped your face in his hands and leaned his forehead against yours, basking in your presence. Neither of you say anything as he leans forward and delicately places his lips on yours. Kissing Theo was almost like a dream. Never would you have thought kissing him would feel like this. So soft, passionate, and most of all loving. That was the night you almost let those three words slip past your lips but by the way he kissed you, you knew he felt the same as he took the words right from your mouth before spitting it back out in every movement of his lips against yours. 

They say love is a battlefield. Theo had the hardest time admitting to himself that he had fallen in love with you in the short time that the two of you spent together. You were supposed to just be a pawn in his little game he was playing with the McCall pack, but you became so much more so fast. He could’ve easily thrown you away when he was done with you. Yet, even after he claimed his spot in the pack as an ally, he found himself fighting for you harder than anything he’s ever fought for anything before. 

“You stay away, do you hear me?” Stiles exclaims, slamming Theo into the locker behind him. 

Theo puts his hands up, shaking his head with a breathy laugh. “What, you think this little threat is going to keep me away? Do you think Y/N is going let you keep me away?” 

“Shut up,” Stiles says under his breath, his grip tightening on Theo’s collar. “You leave Y/N alone, do you understand me? You drag her into this and I will fight you myself.” 

“Then bring it on, Stiles. Listen, you may not trust me, but trust me when I say this. I love Y/N. I would never do anything that would put her in danger. I would protect her with my life, and I know you would do the same.”

Stiles loosens his grip on Theo in shock at his confession. Letting Theo go, he shakes his head and says, “You better mean that because if you hurt her I swear I will break your face.” And with that, Stiles storms out of the locker room leaving Theo to deal with the fact that he just confessed his love for you to Stiles of all people. But he knew deep down that his words were true. He’d endure all the pain in the world if that meant keeping you safe. 

So maybe you should have listened. You should have packed your things and ran away the moment Theo Raeken approached you in the school hallway. But something in your heart begged you to stay. Now you weren’t sure if that was the best or worst mistake you’ve ever made. Maybe if you just kept your heart locked away you wouldn’t be hurting as bad as you were now. Maybe you wouldn’t be wasting your tears on a boy named Theo Raeken. But no matter how badly you wanted to hate him, your heart felt the exact opposite. You loved him. You loved him with your entire being, even if he never loved you back. 

“What the fuck?” you shout at the sight of Scott’s body, bloodied and crippled on the floor. You wanted to vomit and cry. You wanted to scream and shout. But nothing came out of your mouth. You saw the figure in front of you turn around, revealing themselves to be none other than Theo Raeken himself. 

“Y/N…” he says softly, carefully making his way over to you. 

You look down at his claws that were dripping crimson red. “I-is that Scott’s blood?” 

“Y/N,” he states firmer this time, still making his way over to you. 

You flinch when he calls your name again and you back away from him. “No! Theo, what did you do?” 

“What had to be done,” he replies, not missing the way your eyes shined with tears. 

“No, no this can’t be right. You’re on our side! You saved Lydia, you saved me! You can’t be, you can’t…” 

Theo stands his ground, still keeping his distance between the two of you despite wanting nothing more than to take you in his arms. “If you just let me explain-”

“Explain what? How you lied to us? How you lied to me? How could you do this?” 

He stays silent, his eyes still boring into yours as he waits for you to realize it yourself. You’ve always been a clever girl, he didn’t doubt that you couldn’t put two and two together. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper after a moment, finally understanding what was going on. “How long? Huh? How long were you going to just string me along like some-some idiot?” Your heart aches as you look at him. “God, I fought my friends for you. I defended you! And all I was to you was some pawn in your little chess game.” 

“That’s not true,” he defends himself. 

You scoff, tears continuing to cloud your vision. “Is it not? You liar!” You move closer to him this time, shoving at his chest. He lets you hit him as he slightly stumbles back. “Did I even mean anything to you?” You step forward, shoving him again. “God, Theo I loved you!” 

This seems to pull a reaction out of him. Lowering his gaze to the floor, he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. “I told you not to fall in love with me.” 

“You think that was going to stop me? Theo, you made me feel things that no other guy has ever made me feel before. You made me feel safe, warm, and loved. But obviously this has always been a one sided thing.” 

“Y/N-” I love you, he wanted to say, but the words never left his mouth. “You’re a fool for thinking I could ever love you.” Liar. “Like you said, you were just a pawn in my little game.” I’m sorry. He takes a step towards you and this time you don’t move. The two of you are almost chest to chest as he towers over you, looking down. “And you were naive enough to fall for my little act.” I still care about you. 

That was the night Theo Raeken broke your heart. That was the night you swore to never love again. 

Theo Raeken was a liar. A cheater. He used you and your heart. But as you layed back down in your bed, you couldn’t help but think maybe you should have seen it coming. Maybe heartbreak was inevitable. After all, all is fair in love and war. 

taglist:  @beth-winchester21​​ @ilover5r9​​ @sisterslytherinog​​ @anonymous0writer​​ @talksoprettyjjx​ @lunvella​ @pit-zuh​  @blueyedstarlight13​ @justcallmemia​​ @wasted-on-5sos​​ @newhopenessie​​ @mya-bleu​​ @jjandreidsgirl​​ @stfukie​​ @boredmidnightbitch​​ @bibliophilewednesday​​ @pearce14​​

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