#i had to make a few starter holes(that he covered up) to get him into doing it

[piknim]

I usually only let him have small bites of this hay cone at a time but i gave him free access for a bit to try and make wheel cleaning positive and not scary

#hamster #he loved it then got angry and went back to bed fjsbsnsns #ITS NOT MY FAULT #this is why i hate the silent spinner wheel you have to fully disassemble it to clean it #also i had to be mean a few days ago and clean out the nest he made in the covered sandbox #i moved all his nesting stuff to his actual house and he finally moved into it #he started burrowing!! the first time hes been able to in his life! #i had to make a few starter holes(that he covered up) to get him into doing it

[nburkhardt]

Steve has seen many weird things in his life, the last three years especially. Seven foot tall monsters, demo dogs, a girl with super powers, Russians under the mall. Traumatizing stuff, but over all weird stuff. Before all that happened, he thought the weirdest things would be little kids eating flowers or Munson climbing on tables at lunchtime.

But this? This takes the cake.

~~~~~

Vecna is defeated and done, burnt to a crisp with a shit ton of holes in his body thanks to Nancy’s sawed off shot gun. Before they leave the body, Nancy takes one last shot to his head just in case.

They’re walking back to leave when they notice all the dead demo-bats and… and a body.

Seeing Eddie dead on the ground hurts, makes their success bitter and now what do they do? All of them were supposed to make it out, defeat the evil and then celebrate all together. They can’t do that now. Whatever good feeling they had is gone, evaporated into the air with only a numbing sensation left in its place.

Getting out of the upside down with a dead body takes work but they make it happen. They refuse to leave him behind, they’ll bury him and make sure everyone knows that Eddie Munson was a good person. He helped save people, NDA be damned. Nancy is already swearing up and down that whatever cover up will include Eddie in good light.

They won but they lost and none of them know what to do now.

~ Two Weeks Later ~

Saving the world only feels good in the moment. That adrenaline rush feels incredible, but it never lasts long enough for Steve. This time especially with losing someone he thought maybe they could be friends.

It’s even worse because he has to work. He helped save the world and yet he’s back at his pointless job, putting tapes on shelves for a living and listening to mom’s complain about their kids grabbing pg13 movies without them knowing, only finding out when it’s playing and then “….skin showing! They are only twelve! I cannot believe you would let just anyone rent this, this is not responsible. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Steve blinks at her, bored and not ashamed at all. Since, “Ma’am, you rented this out. It says so on the computer here.”

She only scruffs at him before turning around to march back out of the store with the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving him alone, still bored out of his mind. It’s the one day where Robin isn’t working with him, leaving him to do both stocking and working the register. It’s made worse by people’s complaints, weird preverts and kids trying to rent rated r tapes.

“Save the world, still gotta work a nine to five” he mumbles to himself and dropping his head against the counter with a groan. He has another few hours of this, it’s already a long day.

“Ya know, maybe you should put that on a shirt, it’s a great conversation starter”

Steve jolts up with wide eyes because that’s a voice he hasn’t heard in two weeks, can’t hear that voice because the body it belongs to is buried six feet under ground in the goddamn cemetery. He should know because he visited the grave yesterday.

But right in front of him is clearly Eddie Munson with a smirk and still in the goddamn hellfire shirt, leather jacket with his dumb ripped jeans and bullet belt. His face is clean, no trace of bites or even blood. There is something off about him, like he’s fuzzy and not in focus. Which is weird because Steve swore he put contacts in this morning.

“What the fuck?” Is the only thing he can manage to say, he feels frozen staring at the man he grieved, “Munson, what the- you died!”

Eddie cocks his head to the side with a frown and goes to pat his body when the goddamn bell from the door rings and suddenly he just vanishes. Evaporated into thin air.

“No greeting?”

He shakes his head to clear it, maybe- maybe he’s seeing things. Maybe it’s due to only getting three hours of sleep last night, or maybe it’s from lack of water and food today. Hell, maybe it’s from the endless concussions he gets.

“Kid you good?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah- I’m,” he shook his head again before plastering his customer service smile on before looking at the guy in front of him, “I’m good, sorry. How can I help you?”

He pushes the idea of seeing Eddie out of his mind, a quick late rush of customers and one shitty sandwich for his break and he’s done with work for the day.

Not only is it the one day Robin doesn’t work, but it’s dnd night and he still drives Henderson to the Wheelers house. So, he only has time for a quick change of clothes before leaving his house to grab the kid.

Since Mrs. Wheeler insists on feeding him, he ends up sitting in the basement listening to the kids bicker over the game. It’s a nice distraction from the day.

Once he’s back at home, enjoying a hot shower. Singing ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)’ to himself, taking his time washing his hair

“There's not a soul out there, No one to hear my prayer” he sings out while pushing out the soap in his hair, “gimme, gimme gimme a man after-“

“Midnight!” Another voice joins in and he screams, opening his eyes and everything is blurry since he took his contacts out and with the steam from the water. But that was definitely another voice and not just any voice, but fucking Eddie’s voice. “You got a decent voice, Harrington. Or maybe it’s just that you’re in the shower”

Sliding the shower door, he blinks hard to clear his vision and hopefully see. Then like at work, there’s a fuzzy looking Eddie wearing the same outfit he died in. He’s leaning over with a smirk, “Big Boy, indeed, Harrington”

His eyes widen and he closes the door with a slam, trying his hardest not to slip while freaking the fuck out. “You’re going crazy, that’s it. It’s gotta be, he’s dead and you’re feeling guilty. Eddie Munson is dead and buried, there is no way he’s here and fucking saw my-“

“Oh, I definitely saw you, that nickname was just to make you flush but fuck is it everything now.” Eddie’s voice interrupts him, and it seems closer now but he’s eyes are shut. He’s squeezing his eyes closed while also using one arm to cover it up too. “Aw, come on, big boy! I’ve been trying to get someone- anyone to see me!”

He hears both amusement and desperation in the voice, but he can’t move now. The water is turning cold and he can’t move because he’s going crazy. “Maybe, maybe it’s brain damage! That’s gotta be it”

“Harrington- Steve, I swear on Dustin’s mother. I’m here, like really here. Don’t- I don’t know why, or how, but I am” Eddie’s voice is just desperate now, no trace of amusement. “I’m-“

Steve shakes his head moving his arm away before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, immediately finding a frown on Eddie’s transparent face. “There’s- there’s no way. You’re just a figment of my imagination- my brain’s way of dealing with your death. I- I wasn’t even your friend.”

He watches as Eddie frowns, nods then just…vanishes.

His sleep schedule has been fucked up since 1983, maybe even before that actually. Having parents that liked to travel and grandparents that wanted to know their only grandchild. Traveling didn’t help his sleep schedule, then 1983 when they trapped and attacked the demogorgon, it became nearly nonexistent.

Tonight is no exception. He’s been tossing and turning for two hours now, it’s nearly three in the morning.

“Okay, before you say anything-“

He bolts upright with a racing heart, looks around and again, there’s a fuzzy transparent Eddie Munson. He’s currently floating at the end of his bed and his face it looks tired. Like he’s the one who can’t sleep, too wired and worried.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…again. But I thought maybe, maybe I could help? You seem restless… which I guess I caused it today but! I can read to you,” he looks around, makes him frown and follows him. Noticing how bare his room is right now, “okay, maybe not read. But I can come up with something! Like like, about this tough king that’s secretly a huge softie and everyone doesn’t know about this side of him. He remembers the tiny details of his friends, or makes sure those who work for him are supported and loved. Everyone in this kingdom-“

He’s slowly pulled under sleep, his eyes slipping shut and the sound of a dead man’s voice makes his racing heart calm down enough for a deep sleep.

The next morning, there’s no Eddie. He chalks up that whole day to his brain being fucked up from all the concussions. There’s absolutely no way he kept seeing and unintentionally talking to Eddie, no way Eddie of all people would talk about him like that to help him fall asleep.

It’s just not possible.

——————

Another day goes by with his fucked up brain conjuring up Eddie, then another and another.

He accepts it after a week passes with Ghost Eddie. Mostly because it’s actually quite nice, once he got used to someone suddenly appearing and vanishing at random times. It became easy enough to actually fully talk to Ghost Eddie, admitting things he wouldn’t say to anyone else. Especially to an alive Eddie Munson, but that one he can’t talk to. So, he’ll take what he can get since talking things out with Ghost Eddie makes sleepless nights nearly nonexistent.

No one knows about it, he can’t bring himself to actually tell them how fucked his brain is now. Too afraid they’ll really think he’s stupid now.

“I’m telling you, that lady is definitely cheating on her husband. I heard her!” Ghost Eddie tells him as Steve is handing over a tape to said apparent cheater.

He doesn’t bother with faking a smile. Because he’s holding back a laugh at Ghost Eddie’s gossip, “Remember to bring this back next Thursday and to have it rewound for us. Have a great day!”

Once the bell jingles, it’s just him in the store with his now ghostly partner. He turns around to face said partner, “Dude, don’t gossip in my ear about the person right in front of me!”

Ghost Eddie rolls his eyes, “Stevie, no one else can hear me. I’m safe from assholes, remember I’m a ghost”

“Ha ha, very funny Munson. But you saying that shit is going to make me laugh and look like the crazy person I already am.” He rolls his own eyes, “I mean, I’m talking to a figment of my imagination right now. Someone heard this I’d be thrown in the loony bin”

“I keep telling you, I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m really a ghost dude, why can’t you-“

The bell from the door makes him jump, turning to find his friends standing right there.

———

This is totally inspired by a quote from Scooby Doo. Velma telling Shaggy, “there’s no such thing as ghosts” to which Shaggy says back, “well does the ghost know that?” And it made me laugh and thought what if 🤣 SO! We got Ghost!Eddie hanging around Steve.

We’re not going into specifics on how, we’re here for silliness and some angst. If anyone has suggestions on the conversion with his friends, I’m all ears 👀

@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme

#steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #stranger things fic #this is technically steddie btw #it’s just…Eddie’s a ghost 🥲 #steve harrington au #steve harrington needs a hug #nburkhardt writes #aimed for silly and landed on angsty

[piss-pumpkin]

Scars (Soulmate au)

Reader is a librarian :)

3.38k words

~In a world where your soulmates scars appear on your skin once their healed~

You carefully traced your scar in the mirror, ghosting your finger over the mark across your cheek. It had appeared a few years ago during school, much to your friends surprises. You eyed it carefully, wondering how reckless your soulmate could be to give you so many scars. You knew you weren’t the most careful kid growing up, but you had given your person far less. You had long since accepted it as part of your appearance, but still found it easy to stare at. At least it was a conversation starter.

Sighing, you went to get dressed properly and go to the library. You squinted as you walked outside, the sun burned brightly in the sky. You were working alone today, Amity having taken the day off to study with Luz. You smiled to yourself, and looked down at the ground as you walked. Other witches probably looked at you funny for staring at the dirt and smirking, but you couldn’t help laugh internally at your lovesick friends.

You’d have to made sure to tell the children to tease Amity and ask her about her date tomorrow.

                                             …

When the reading hour for the kids was over, you boss moved you to the front desk. It was a Tuesday at noon, meaning it wasn’t busy. You watched the door in your peripheral vision as you read a book. Amity had insisted you read ‘Azura.’ It read awkwardly at times, and was incredibly cheesy, but it had its moments of heartfelt sincerity in the story. You had promised Luz and Amity a full review when you were done. 

Your eye was caught by a light, the sun shining through the door. The person went straight to the book shelves before you got a good look. Your eyes fell back on the book, and you continued to read.

The person didn’t come to the counter, instead opting to bring a pile of books to the tables, out of your sight. You noticed them go by the flick of a cape around the shelf. 

You laughed to yourself, a cape? What a cosplay nerd. Though you were one to talk, occasionally being dragged into the same kind of stuff by your friends.

                                             …

Upon closer inspection, you noticed that the cape nerd was in fact, the golden guard. Or at least a really good cosplay of him. Immediately you clammed up. A government narc was a neat person to be alone with in a library. You were glad Amity wasn’t here, she’d probably just punch him and get fired.

The guard was approaching the counter, where you unfortunately sat. He sauntered up carrying a few books. The covers reflected on the pristine gold of his mask.

He placed them gingerly in front of you, “I’d like to check these out, please.” He spoke with a strain and tiredness in his voice that you didn’t expect from such a high ranking guard. 

You nodded, and pulled the books closer to you to scan them. You kept your eyes low, avoiding looking at the hollow slits on his mask. He seemed to be doing the same, and didn’t face you directly. “You have a library card?”

”Hmm? Oh, no.” 

You nodded again. You very much couldn’t check books out to people without a card. But on the other hand, this was the golden guard. In a way, he was a little bit above the library law.

“Okay so, you do kind of need a library card,” you said, looking up at him. “But I’ll just put it on mine this time, okay? That means you have to bring them back or else I get fired.”

He perked up, and looked at you. “Oh- I didn’t realizzzeee….” He lost his voice as he stared at you, his finger tip curling around air. A chill went down your spine as the golden guard gazed at your face for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Your palms were sweaty. “Well, uh, it’s cool,” you said as you slid the books back. He didn’t take them, staying completely still at the counter. You wiped your sweaty hands on your leg and tried to avoid eye contact with the hollow man holes of his mask. “I, uh- didn’t expect the golden guard to be reading about wild magic,” you said, trying to make small talk.

What was this guy’s deal?

He flinched out of his trance, looking down at the books, then back at you. His body language changed dramatically, shifting from that of a confident guard to that of somebody much more awkward. “Well, uh- gotta learn it if I wanna stop it!” He babbled. He looked stiff.

You looked up at him, a confused look painting your face. “Well, good luck,” you said awkwardly.

Weird.

The golden guard scooped up his books and scurried back to the table. Which was strange, because he looked before like he was leaving. Why check out the books if you’re staying? 

As your shift continued, you caught him glancing up from his book in your direction from time to time. You pretended not to notice at first, but it grew more frequent, and you had to say something. 

You got up, and walked over to him. As you did, you could swear he clammed up under his mask. 

“Um- golden guard, my guy. Can I help you?” You asked, lacing your tone with sternness. 

“Uh, y-yeah. I was uh.. looking for a good book recommendation… could you help me out?” 

You squinted your eyes, and your lips curled into an involuntary smile. What a lying bitch. This man wasn’t looking for jack shit and you knew it.

”Well me personally, I’m a slut for [favourite genre]. Do want one of those?”

He nodded eagerly. 

You sighed, “Okay, do wanna come with me?” You looked over at the shelves where your genre was, and flocked your head in that direction. “Come on, over here, I’ll show you where they are.” 

He scrambled out of his chair to follow you. The golden guard walked timidly behind you, which was very strange. From what Amity spoke of this guy, you expected a vile person.

Titan, does the golden guard have a little crush on me?

You smirked at the thought. It would explain the behaviour, maybe this guy never saw somebody as hot as you, you thought. You snickered as you approached the book shelf.

“Here, this one is really good,” you say, pulling a book off the shelf. “It’s written in a really unique way, and really hits hard in some moments. And the deeper themes of-”

You cut yourself off and laughed a bit, “Sorry, I should let you read it for yourself.”

The golden guard nodded, and gently took the book from your hands. Then all of a sudden, there was no reason for you to be there, and you were alone with him in the aisle. Just you and him, standing awkwardly, making half eye contact through the holes in his mask.

”Anyway, ask if you need anything else? I’ve gotta get back to the desk.” 

You escaped.

                                               …

Much to Amity’s detest, the golden guard was a regular after that day. You never quite understood why, but he seemed to come in fairly often. Which was even stranger because he was the golden guard, famous for being busy. 

Today just happened to be a day he popped by, and Amity wasn’t there to tell him to leave.

”Hey Goldie, need anything?” He came up to the desk, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Or did you just come to see little ol’ me?” You asked with a condescending tone.

The golden guard jerked his head away from you, and looked at the ground. “You know I have better things to do then come visit a librarian…” he said, flustered. 

“Sureeeee.”

He sighed through the mask. “I’m returning this,” he held up a book. You grinned, it was one you made him read. 

“So how was it?” You asked eagerly, tapping your hands against the desk. 

“Surprisingly not terrible, I suppose.” 

High praise coming from him. You did good.

”Aww, glad you liked it,” you said with exaggerated splendour. “You want another? I just finished reading one and I thought of you, it seems like your style…” you said, reaching under the desk to find it. You held it up to him and showed off the cover, “I think you’d like it!”

The golden guard stared at you, and fiddled with his gloves. “Uh- sure!” 

You gave him the book happily, excited on his behalf. 

“Thanks Y/n!” He sputtered out. The golden guard turned around, and began to walk back to the door.

”Damn, leaving already?” You asked, slightly disappointed.

He seemed as startled as one could seem with a mask that hides one’s face completely. “Y-yeah, important emperors coven stuff… you know,” he said. 

You grumbled and sighed. There goes one of very few people who talks to you on your solo shifts. “Then can I walk with you a bit? I can take my break whenever.”

He perked up, “Sure!”

You nodded and grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair, putting up a small sign saying you’d be back in 15. “So where we off to, Goldie?” 

“I’m doing a supply run today, nothing special,” he said. It was only a little bit of a lie, he was getting a supply of things, those things just happened to be more palismen. After the incident with Luz, he and the scouts started targeting the forest for wild ones.

”That’s kind of lame, won’t lie.” The two of you walked out of the library, and the sun seemed particularly bright to your dark adjusted eyes. “Ugh,” you groan as you shield your face. “Too hot.”

The golden guard looked at you. You felt your face heat up under the seemingly cold gaze of his hollow eye holes. He watched as you grew accustomed to the light. 

What gave him away was a neck movement. What could normally be dismissed as looking at a friend morphed into something more obvious. You saw his eyes were pointed at your arms, which were littered with scars. 

“Whatcha lookin at?” You asked teasingly. You didn’t mind when people stared at your scars, you’d grown used to it. It wasn’t something you’d expect from the golden guard though.

”Oh, sorry…” he mumbled. “You’re, uh, arms have a lot of scars on them…”

You laughed, “Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with my soulmate.” You looked down at your arms and the oddly shaped scars that painted them. The strange thing was that you had no idea how your soulmate got them. They didn’t look like normal scars. It was a toss up between playing in the wrong patch of prickly woods… or something else. You chose to think it was the woods, and your soulmate was just clumsy.

The golden guard looked nervous as he fidgeted with his gloves. “Heh… yeah.”

                                              …

Kikimora had you cornered in an alleyway. The dark of night bathed her in an ominous shadow. Her small figure didn’t serve as threatening, but she held fire in her fists, waiting for you to move. “Wild witch! Bring me to the owl lady!” She screamed.

Your back was against the wall, but you had no intention of helping her. She had you though. Attacking her wasn’t an option, her being an emperors coven official. Going after her would be suicide. 

Did you have a choice though?

She waited for you to speak. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, and showed no hesitation. “Well?!”

You tried to edge backward, but couldn’t. The stone slab was cold on your back. You couldn’t help her, that wasn’t an option. 

You tried to make the movement of your fingers subtle, drawing a small glyph on the wall behind you. She didn’t seem to notice yet. “Uhhh, how do you know… that I know where she is?” You asked, stalling.

”WE’VE SEEN YOU COLLUDING!” She yelled, waving her hands in the air. She was growing impatient. 

You completed your glyph, and sent a tendril of abomination spiralling her way.

”AUGHHHH!” She screamed. It was a good thing this wasn’t a busy part of town.

You acted quickly, and drew another on the ground, shooting shards of ice up at her. She swatted aggressively, and melted them with her fire.

”ENOUGH!” She shouted, illuminating the entire alley with flames. She lunged at you, with fire on her fists. 

You pulled the abomination goo upwards into a shield, but she broke though. Her small body landed on top of you, and pushed you down to the ground. 

You slapped the floor, pushing out another blade of abomination toward her head. 

Kikimora ducked, and you missed by a hairs width. “HA! YOU’LL BE PETRIFIED FOR THAT!” She laughed manically. She stuck your wrists with abomination of her own, trapping you beneath her.

The heat of the flames began to sting your face, despite them not touching you yet. Kikimora laughed again as you tried to blindly draw a glyph with the tip of your finger. Your eyes closed in their own, bracing for an attack.  She plunged her burning hand towards you head.

You never felt it touch. 

“AUGH!” Kikimora screamed. She was knocked off you. 

You opened your eyes, but you vision was blurry. There was a figure above you, staff in hand. Their movement was a blur as they lunged at Kikimora again. 

The abomination on your wrists softened as she was knocked against the wall. You broke free, and stumbled to you feet. Everything was still a little blurry as you eyes recovered from the fire being so close. 

You could make out Kiki though, as your rescuer had her pinned. You laughed a spiteful laugh as you seized you opportunity. You drew a glyph and send a sharp abomination spear straight into her shoulder. 

This seemed to startle your rescuer, and they turned your way. They seemed to teleport toward you, grabbing your hand and running with you out of the alley. You looked back, and saw Kikimora was still pinned against the wall by your abomination. 

“What were you thinking?!?” They yelled at you. 

Wait a minute.

You recognized this voice. 

He was running in front of you and pulling you with him. You weren’t sure where he was leading you, but you didn’t question it. And you had your suspicions as to who your mysterious rescuer was. 

You ran to the outskirts of town, far away from anyone else. The area was lit by small streetlights.

“Why was she after you?!?” He yelled, slowing down. The two of you took a moment to catch your breath. You must have been running for a while, because your chest heaved as you panted. 

You finally were able to get a good look at this guy. Blond, red eyes, about your age, a little taller then you. He had a small bandana mask covering the lower half of his face. 

You didn’t speak, instead waiting to hear his voice again. You had a feeling you knew it.

”Well!?” He said, exaggerating his speech with his hands. “Why were you in a dark alley with her? How’d you even get in that situation!” He yelled.

Despite everything, you found yourself smirking. You’d recognize that exasperated bitch tone anywhere. You looked him up and down, trying to confirm it. You asked hesitantly, “Golden guard?” 

He sighed. “Ugh, I really hate you.”

It appears you were correct in your guess.

”Just… what happened.” He questioned. He seemed serious and tired. 

You sighed, and looked at the ground. “She pulled me aside on the street, and like… what am I gonna do, say no to an emperors coven official?” You said, recalling the events of the day. “She jumped me after though, and pulled me into the alley. She wanted me to take her to Eda…”

The golden guard held the bridge of his nose in his hand, and shook his head. “I really hope she didn’t see me…” 

“Yeah, uh… why did you do that?” You asked curiously. You eyed him, “And I’ve never seen you out of your uniform…”

You stared at his face. The bit you could see seemed to grow red at the ears. 

“Well, I was actually going to see you. I thought your shift would be over around this time.” He mumbled. He turned his head away from you, and stared at the streetlight. “And I wasn’t gonna just, what? Let her kill you? Horribly scar you?”

You looked into his eyes and saw worry and concern, rather then the usual sarcasm and exasperation. “Well, thanks. I, uh, really appreciate it.” You touched his shoulder gently, pulling his attention back to you.  Gazed at you with an unreadable expression. “I mean it, thanks Goldie.”

He nodded and looked away again, flustered. “You can call me Hunter, if you want.”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, is that your name?”

He looked at you confused, “Why else would I say that if it wasn’t my name, dumbass.”

You pulled away, and waved your hands in defence. “Hey, I don’t know. I thought you weren’t supposed to tell your name, so maybe it was a code name or something.”

He sighed, “No, you’re just stupid.” 

“Or your just soft on me,” you said, smirking. 

He scowled at you, and scoffed before turning away. “Can you be more careful next time? What would have happened if I wasn’t there, Y/n…” he said, voice low. 

You looked away. 

“I’m just glad I heard the screams,” he mumbled. His voice fell to a near whisper, “I don’t wanna be responsible for any more of your scars.”

As quiet as he was, you still heard him. Your eyes went wide. “Huh?” You babbled.

Hunter realized what he said. His face and ears flushed as he backed away from you, stumbling. “Well, uh, I-“ he stuttered, panicked. “I..”

You stared at him, your brain having turned off. There were no thoughts going through your head.

He sighed in defeat, and pulled down the mask on his face. What lied beneath were… scars. The most noticeably eye catching of which adorned his cheek. Instinctively, you reached your hand to your own scar. You stepped closer to him, and examined his face. 

They were the same.

”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…” his head was hung low, eyes fallen on the ground.

Your mouth hung slightly agape.

Hunter fiddled with his gloves and looked at you shyly, waiting for a response. You didn’t quite have one.

Shakily, you took a step closer to him. He gazed upon you curiously, holding his hands close to his chest. His stance was anxious.

You gave in, rushing forward to hug him. He flinched slightly at the impact, but quickly recovered. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder.

He seemed confused. ”Huh?”

Nobody must have taught him what a hug was.

You squeezed lightly, getting closer. Hunter hesitantly mirrored your actions and wrapped his arms around you, hands resting at your waist. 

“Goldie… are you alright?”

His grip weakened, “Y-yeah, of course.”

You turned your head away, still resting on his shoulder but looking onto the ground beside you.

”You have a lot of scars, dude.”

”By that logic, so do you.”

”You know what I mean.”

You felt him grimace. He laughed, “Child prodigy life, you know?” You didn’t move, instead pressing your forehead into his shoulder. Hunter sensed your anxiety, “Don’t worry to much, Y/n.”

You nodded into his shoulder and sighed. “Thanks for saving me, Goldie…” you paused. You laughed slightly, “I guess I should call you Hunter now, huh.”

You didn’t see, but you could sense a smile creep onto his lips. Hunter seemed to relax a little and rested his head on your shoulder as he hugged you tighter. You could hear it in his voice as he spoke, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You let go, stepping back to look him in the eyes. “Then thank you, Hunter.”

.

.

Hello! This has a part 2! i’ll post it sometime! 

#golden guard x reader #golden guard #the owl house #the owl house x reader #toh golden guard #toh

[blixtrandetorst]

{A bit of Dieter’s life that plagued my mind till I wrote something on it. Could be used as a starter for the right character(s)}

“I uh….I’ve never seen a vampire like this…” the soldier’s footsteps slowed approaching the giant body. Its bat face half covered in the dirt where it looked to have skidded into no man’s land. Laying on its side it resembled more a gargoyle than any incarnation of a vampire they were familiar with. Leather wrap around mimicking those officers wore were stroll strapped around its calves. Gigantic riding brechers were the only other article of clothing worn. The rest was weaponry and accessories to boot. Strewn about the long line it carved into the dirt upon landing.

Wings doubling its height were bend and broken in ever which way. A jumbled pile of leather. Bullet holes riddled the entire body. A machine gun spray looking to be the culprit. Silver bullets perhaps.

The fur that shielded its great neck and chest was laced with blood, long since ceasing its drip it dried in chunks. Mixing with the soil kicked up.

“One of ours…that’s all I know.” His buddy added.

“Ours?!”

“Yeah, our fliers I heard don’t need machines…never thought they were like this though…”

“How on earth did you think they fly then?”

“I don’t know! We got rocked by artillery fire before I could ask!”

Their eyes moved back to the motionless monster as if it stirred. One moved closer, ever so gently.

“Careful!” An urgent whisper.

“What Are you doing?”

“Finding out who it is.”

He rooted around in his overcoat, both pockets before a stack of small papers were found. Sanke cards.

“How? It doesn’t look very human.” They continued to hush their voices.

“There’s a scar.” Finally shushing his friend to focus. He moved closer, inching, to get in close to the humongous face. He wanted to brush the dirt away to get a good look without disturbing it. A tester brush revealed no new info but did give him confidence. The monster didn’t move. A few more vigorous brushes with a gloved hand. The scar revealing itself. Seemingly running through its right eye, down the length of its nose and across to his left bottom lip. It reminded him of lightning.

Back to the cards, shuffling them quickly. He had an idea who it could be. Though doubt crept in. Maybe not too notable. This is the most quiet sector on the front. Why would an ace crash over here? Had to be one of the less notable fliers.

He found the card. Holding it up, comparing against the inhuman face. He found a match. “No way…”

“What?”

“NO WAY.”

“Who is it?!”

He turned to show the card. A flier from Richthofen’s own squadron, and a 24 victory ace. “Dieter Bergström.”

“NO.”

“Yeeah…look.” He said in a nervous laugh. His friend rushing over as quickly as he felt prudent. They almost completely forgot that they were two feet away from it. Nevertheless he examined the scar with scrutiny then to the card he ripped from his comrade’s hand.

“Fuck, you’re right.”

“we have to report this!”

“Sshhhhhh!”

“We have to report this. They probably think he’s dead.”

He got a look. “He’s been dead…he’s a vampire dumbass.”

“Well, is he like…dead for a vampire? You know, done?”

“What am I a vampire expert?”

“You have all the Sanke cards! There’s not a flier from Germany that isn’t a leech!”

Their raising voices seemed to actually stir their discovery. A freezing air escaped its nostrils. They both jumped back. Scurrying to the relative safety of pile of dirt from previous mortar fire.

“Uh, you stay here huh? Make sure the tommies don’t find him.”

“How in the fuck am I gonna do That?! HES LIKE 20 FEET TALL!”

“Someone needs to keep an eye on him!”

“NO! Just mark where we are and let’s go!”

“Oh right, alright!” His fingers were messy, fishing a beat up map and a pencil from his bag. Quickly with shaking hands marking an x where they assumed they were. Then shoving it in a front breast pocket as a residual growl grumbled from monster. Giving them both the kick in the ass to get moving.

#exploits. #ooc.blix

[hellsxbellsx]

(starter for @wexarethewalkingxdead)

Anastasia had been traveling for what felt like months. She was lost, traveling with her brother when the outbreak started. She... She lost him. He had gotten bit, changed, and she had to put him down. she hated it. Her only family that was left was now dead. They were told to go to Atlanta, bad mistake. It was overrun, by geeks. Walkers. The dead people... dead came back. She never wouldve imagined that the dead... would walk again. She didn't really believe it till she was with the group she started out with and one of them just keeled over and he came back... Now, she was covered in blood. not her blood, Walker blood. She found out that dousing herself in their blood, she could possibly get through a small hoard. A small one. Not a large one. Thats how her brother got killed. Fucking Atlanta. They were told lies, told that the military was there, to help them. That worked real well, didn't it? She was holed up in a small, abandoned house. It was pretty secure, the people that lived here before seemed to be those prepper kinda people. They had ammo, dry rations, the whole nine. But it was running low. She needed to venture out. That was a few weeks ago, now? Now she heard a car alarm blaring as she walked out to the road, making sure no walkers were around as she walked. The hell was that? Some dude that was joyriding in an infested, run down city? Why not follow it? Nothing else to loose right? Other than her life. But what was to live for anymore? Hoping to find a group? she hadn't seen a live person for weeks. She decided, why not follow the sound? So now she was halfway up the quarry, still covered in blood. Was that a person? Holy shit it was a person. On an RV? That was a new one. Once she made her way up the long... Long road, she raised her hands in defense, making sure she didn't get shot. "Im human! Not bit!" She called out, her voice hoarse from not having anything to hydrate her in a while. "I just... I followed the car!" She said as she wiped some of the walker blood off of her face "I don't mean no harm, I promise." She said as she looked around at the people gathering now, most of them with guns. "Please... I need help."

[keysmashingfantasies]

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N:  i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad). 

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie! 

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

-

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and  it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

-

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”.  After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

-

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

 ‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

-

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

[johnsamericano]

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct doyoung

[disturbedbydesign]

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: This is canon-adjacent in that I just decided to pick and choose who I wanted to write for and what parts of canon I wanted to use. Best not to think too hard about where it falls on the timeline because the canon is a mess and we all kind of hate it anyway.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter One

You’ve been tracking him for days, not that it was hard. His patrol schedule is always the same, as is his after-hours routine: drinks at the Irish pub on Reade Street with the other boys in blue. It’s a cop bar but you waltz right in, looking lost even though you know the name, rank, and various misdeeds of every guy in the place. He looks at you, because of course he does—his wife assured you that he has a wandering eye, among his other sins.

You take a seat at the bar. “Double vodka rocks, please.”

The bartender pours you your drink and you take a deep pull, savoring the burn of it. Then you wait, but it doesn’t take long—it never does. Sergeant Thompson sidles up to the barstool next to you.

“Hey darlin,” he says, his breath reeking of cheap beer. “You lost?”

You turn to him with an innocent smile. “Evening, officer.”

“It’s Sergeant,” he says, tapping his badge, “but I won’t hold that against you. So, what’s a pretty young thing doing in a dive bar with a bunch of old men?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but she bailed on me. Figured I’d grab a drink before I head home.”

“And where is home?” he asks, not that it’s any of his business, but cops think they deserve answers to any questions they feel like asking.

“Williamsburg,” you lie.

“You’re pretty far from home, then,” he replies, even though you both know that you aren’t. He takes a sip of his beer and the foam leaves a trace like a mustache before he licks it clean. “It’s late. Why don’t you let me drive you? Wouldn’t want you on the subway this time of night.”

“It’s only 8:30,” you say. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this—open investigation and all that—but we’ve been on the lookout for a guy in the area, serial rapist, real nasty piece of work.”

That’s one thing the two of you have in common at least.

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you home, darlin.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you admit. “Can’t get much safer than the NYPD, right?”

He laughs and so do you, knowing that nothing is farther from the truth—especially when it comes to this guy.

Sergeant Thompson speeds across the Williamsburg Bridge with his flashers on, headed toward the address you gave him. Of course, that’s not actually your address—you don’t have a home anymore—it’s just one of many rundown warehouses in the neighborhood, variously used for impromptu raves and as drug dens and, in your case, a private place in which you can take care of business without fear of being interrupted.

“This is me,” you say, waiting for him to let you out of the back of the cruiser where he insisted you ride—caged in like a helpless animal, or so he thinks.

“This place?” he asks. “Looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“You’d be surprised what they can do to these places on the inside—gentrification and what have you. My rent is astronomical.”

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to walk you up. Looks a bit unsavory.”

“If you insist, Sergeant.”

The second you get up the stairs to the top floor, you inject him with the etorphine, straight into the jugular, and down he goes. It never gets old—how easy it is, when they think that they are the predator and you are the prey. You drag him into the loft where you’re already set up for a long night’s work.

When he comes to, he’s fixed to the chair with (among other things) his own handcuffs, mouth taped shut and a rag shoved in for good measure. You don’t want to hear him talk; it’s time for him to listen. His day of reckoning has come. He starts to squirm but between the cuffs and the duct tape and the sedative still coursing through his veins, he’s not going anywhere. Even if he did get free, you could take him down easy. It’s what you were trained for. It’s what you were born for.

“Welcome back, Sergeant,” you say, and he screams something unintelligible through the rag which, if you had to guess, would be some combination of “cunt” or “bitch” or any of the other choice words he likes to use on his women.

The tarps are laid meticulously around the room, placed strategically to catch any and all evidence of what you’re about to do. When he notices them, he goes still, because he knows. Part of him knows.

“So,” you say, pulling out the Thompson file, “this is quite the impressive resume you’ve got here, Sarge. Lots of civilian brutality complaints, including a few choice allegations from female prisoners. Oh, and then there’s the domestic violence and marital rape. You’re a real charmer, huh?”

There’s more muffled screaming but you ignore it—the last gasps of a dying man.

“Here’s the thing, Sarge. I know you think that you’re above the law, because you are the law, but you aren’t. Your wife is real tired of your shit, and me? Well, let’s just say that my motto is protect and serve.” You lean in close enough to smell the salty sweat on his brow. “And unlike you, I actually mean it.”

You pull your favorite knife from your thigh holster and slit him from ear to ear. “See you in hell, Sergeant.”

You sit on the edge of the table, swinging your legs and watching him bleed out. It doesn’t take long. The actual disposal is the real work. You set about chopping him into manageable pieces and you find yourself missing the days when you didn’t have to cover your tracks alone, when there was a clean-up team to take care of it for you.

But you’re freelance now. You’re not a Widow anymore. She made sure of that.

Sometimes—like right now, when you’re dripping sweat and every muscle in your body is screaming its exertion as you saw through bone after bone—you hate Natasha Romanoff. You know why she did what she did; you understand that, objectively, it was the right thing to do. But did she ever stop to consider the repercussions of her actions? She got out early and found a new family and became one of the Good Guys. But you? You entered the Red Room with nothing and you left with nothing.

They always said you were born to be a killer. It’s all you’ve ever known. So what exactly did she expect you to do? You may be free of the mind control, but you never had the chance to develop a mind of your own. Killing is all you know. At least now you get to pick your own targets.

Once you’ve got Sergeant Thompson all squared away, you pack him up in the trunk of his cruiser and drive upstate, listening to the 80s station you like. It occurs to you that most people have heard these songs a thousand times—so many times that they know the lyrics instinctively, can sing them without even having to think about it. It’s all new to you, though. You can’t decide whether it makes you sad to think about all you’ve missed or whether you’re lucky that you get to experience for the first time what everyone else is already tired of.

When you get to the farm, you dump Thompson in the holes you’ve already backhoed, then you hop on the Cat and fill them all in. You shoot a text to Mrs. Thompson from your burner—just a thumbs-up emoji—and she replies with a smiley face. It was only so long before he would have killed her; she knows it as well as you do. The only people that will grieve the dearly departed Sergeant Thompson are a bunch of assholes who are one false move from ending up in your web.

You didn’t charge Mrs. Thompson your usual rate—just what she could afford without drawing the attention and ire of the Mister. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, you even work pro bono. After all, you only kill people for money who you would happily kill for free. You consider it a service, something for the greater good of society. You’ll take money, sure—you need it to live and to continue your work—but not from people who can’t easily spare it.

You have standards. You have a code. That’s the difference between the you that served as a mindless weapon wielded by others and the you that decides for yourself how to use the gifts you’ve been given. No women. No children. No collateral damage. Only Very Bad Men who’ve done Very Bad Things. You don’t see the harm in it, not really, and as you settle into bed you come back to the thought you often have before a fitful night of sleep: who’s the real avenger, Natasha?

*****

Natasha wipes her brow and throws the rag down on the mat, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Bucky has barely broken a sweat from their morning sparring session, and he doesn’t even try to fake it. He’s in an especially grumpy mood.

“This is a bad idea, Natasha.”

“To some people, maybe,” she says, “but I want to bring her in anyway. I don’t understand how you of all people are against me on this, Bucky.”

“Uh, for starters, she’s a serial killer.”

“That’s a bit of a harsh assessment, considering the circumstances. And do I really need to remind you that the same could be said about the two of us? That a lot of people still say that about us?”

Bucky sighs, because he knows she’s right, but this is different—you are different. “It’s not the same,” he grumbles, but he’s not entirely sure it isn’t, and that’s what’s really bothering him.

“Look,” Nat says, taking a step toward Bucky, “I need to try, ok? I know what she’s going through because I went through it, except she’s completely alone out there with nothing and no one. You and I… we had people behind us, helping us.”

“And what if she says no?” Bucky asks. “Are you just gonna let her go on doing what she’s doing? She’s killed… how many is it now?”

Natasha mutters something under her breath and Bucky looks at her expectantly. “What was that, Tasha?”

“25 people in the last 6 months,” she states, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Exactly,” he says.

“I would like to point out that they were all very bad people. So...”

“Tasha,” he says, and he puts his hand up to silence her. “I can’t help you on this. I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “You know what, Barnes? You’re real high and mighty for a guy who–”

Natasha stops herself when she sees the ice-cold look in Bucky’s eyes. “Go on. For a guy who what?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on my own.”

“Well, good luck to you. Hope you don’t get your throat slit.”

Bucky stomps off and Natasha is left wondering if she’s about to make a huge mistake. She knows you’re volatile, that a part of you must resent her, but she needs to make it right. At the very least, she needs to try.

Natasha grabs her tablet and scrolls through the latest intel on your whereabouts. She’s just missed you in New York, but she thinks she’s got a jump on your next target: some coke dealer down in Miami with a predilection for underage girls. Just a brief glance at this guy’s file is enough to make Natasha’s blood run cold. She knows why you do what you do. If she’s honest, it doesn’t bother her one bit that you’re doing it. It’s the thought of you out there on your own, filled with hate and anger and thirsty for bloody vengeance, that frightens her. Because maybe one day—left to your own devices, lost in the chaos of your troubled mind—getting the Bad Guys won’t be enough for you. Maybe you’ll decide that some of the Good Guys aren’t so good after all. Maybe you’ll even be right.

She contemplates being honest with Steve and telling him where she’s headed but decides against it. Steve isn’t on board with her plan. Natasha doesn’t fault him for it—he doesn’t understand, he couldn’t. Bucky, though... that’s a disappointment, and it surprises her. If anyone knows what it feels like to spend your life as someone else’s weapon, it’s Bucky Barnes.

Natasha waits until nightfall to “borrow” the Quinjet, and she finds Bucky waiting for her when she gets to the hangar.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, “but only as back-up. She’s dangerous, Natasha.”

“Maybe so,” Natasha replies, “but only because she’s afraid.”

*****

You knew that she’d be coming for you sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. Your little stilt cabin on the outskirts of the Everglades isn’t quite set up for company but at least it’s tucked away and difficult to access. You’re surprised she brought him, though—that was a mistake. You and she could have a nice long conversation, but you have nothing to say to the Soldat.

You climb up the tree to your lookout platform and hoist your sniper rifle onto your shoulder, following their slow but steady progress through the knee-deep swamp water, trying to line up a decent shot as they weave in between the bald cypress trees. When you see your chance, you take it, and you put one about an inch from where the Soldat’s metal arm meets the flesh of his shoulder. It ricochets off, as intended, and he jumps forward to shield Natasha. You hear her laugh through your earpiece.

“Relax, Barnes. It was a warning shot. If she wanted to hit you, she would have.”

“She did hit me,” he snaps.

You smile as you descend from the tree to meet them.

“Well well well,” you say. “If it isn’t the Murder Twins. To what do I owe this unwanted visit?”

“You know why I’m here,” Natasha says.

“Yes,” you reply, “but why is he here?”

The man she calls Barnes looks at you with disdain and you give it right back to him. You can tell that shot in the arm really pissed him off and it pleases you to no end.

“He’s just watching my back,” she says. “That’s what happens when you’re on a team.”

“Right, The Avengers. How adorable.”

“Listen,” Natasha begins, but you stop her.

“Let me save you the trouble of whatever little speech you have prepared. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Widow rehab and joining your ragtag group of misfits. And I’m not going to stop doing my work just because you come here and bat your eyes and smile pretty at me.”

“Your work?” spits the Soldat. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Bucky, don’t-”

“Let him talk, Romanoff,” you say. “He obviously has some… opinions. Now that he’s got the mask off, he can finally speak for himself.” You take a step towards him, your rifle in hand but not pointed at him. “So speak, Soldat.”

He looks flustered and not a little bit angry. You can tell he doesn’t like to be called by that name. “Killing people isn’t work,” he says.

You huff out a laugh. “And what is it that the two of you do, exactly? Run a coffee shop?”

“We are not the same,” he says, and you smile because you know that he doesn’t actually believe that—how could he after everything he’s done?

“I think we are exactly the same, Soldat, with one huge exception: you’re still letting other people tell you what to do, and I’m done with all that.”

“This is pointless,” he says.

“Now that is something you and I actually agree on.” You turn to Natasha. “You should go while you still can. I have work to do.”

But Natasha just won’t let it go. “I should never have left you alone,” she says. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” you snap, and you raise your rifle and point it directly at her head. “Leave, Natasha. And take your little pet with you.”

The Soldat grabs her arm gently. “Let’s go, Tasha. She’s hopeless.”

You feel a pang of something then—some indescribable form of melancholy. You try to keep it off your face but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he sees it. A minute tremble of your lip, the quick double blink—it gives you away, and now you’re really pissed off.

“Leave. Now,” you yell, and it pierces through the sweltering darkness. “I’ll make you sorry if you don’t.”

You watch Natasha and the bionic man make their way out of the swamp. You don’t turn your back on them, not that you think they’ll try to take you by force. That would be unwise and Natasha knows it. Once you’re satisfied that they’re gone, you return to the cabin. The bloodied man in the linen suit lays strapped to the bed where you left him, squirming and shouting around the gag in his mouth.

You have to stop yourself from making this a messy affair, but the anger you feel—at her, at him, at everything—is making it difficult to temper your darker urges. You’re not one for torture, even though this man absolutely deserves it for the horrible things he’s done. You almost give in, but you remind yourself that this is a job—it is work, despite what the Soldat may think—and you have to remain professional.

You grab the man’s file off the desk and pull a chair up next to the bed. “So, Mr. Garcia, where were we?”

CHAPTER TWO >>>

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dark!fic #dark!reader #the widow and the wolf

[harrywritingsbyme]

Bored

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: He’s back bitchessss🤪…and he’s filthy as fuck! And I’m sorry this one is extra extra late with a crappy ending lol...Enjoy🙃

You were finally finally getting your weekend alone with Harry. After almost two weeks of him being away for business, you were finally getting to spend some quality time with him. And it was going to be without any interruption. Since your best friend was was spending a long weekend with her boyfriend, you were going to be able to spend a long weekend with yours. You were so excited to see Harry that you had everything planned out. For starters, you had your bag packed the night before he was due home. It had all of the essentials: a couple outfits for when you two weren’t in bed having sex, two of your skimpiest sets of lingerie that you weren’t going to miss given the fact that Harry had a habit of ripping your lingerie off of you, and some toys. He had few at his house but had the funner ones that you both could play with. Now along with getting your bag packed, you also made a visit to the waxing salon you went to from time to time. Even though Harry could literally care less about whether or not you had any hair down there, you still liked to give him a little treat from time to time. So as a little welcome home present, you endured thirty minuets of someone ripping those coarse hairs away so that you could be nice and smooth upon his arrival. And to make sure that you were ready to spread your legs for him as soon as he landed, you got this done a little over two days before so that you could let your pussy rest a bit because once you were with Harry, you were going to be begging for a break. You also made sure to be right at the airport to pick him up so that you two could get your weekend together started.

Now since his flight landed in the evening and you were positive that he’d be exhausted, you weren’t expecting to do much that night. Once you two arrived home, Harry wasted no time getting himself and his bag upstairs before ridding himself of his clothes and taking a nice hot shower. Again, you knew for a fact that he was exhausted from his flight and the trip itself so you decided to let him unwind and take his shower while you unpacked his bag and got everything nice and ready for him to have a good nights sleep. After spending a good half an hour in the steamy cabin, Harry finally exited the shower and came into the bedroom where you were waiting for him.

“I take it you had a good shower.” You point out, taking in his more relaxed disposition.

“It was so good.” He hums, striding over to where you were sitting on the bed. Once in front of you, his hands go straight to your shoulders and up your neck to the sides of your face where he tilts your head back a bit so that you’re looking up at him. He then lowers his head before bringing his lips to yours. Besides the pecks you gave him in the car when you picked him up from the airport, this was the first real kiss the two of you shared in almost two weeks. You missed the feeling of his warm pillow soft lips moving against yours. Even though you missed the sex, you missed being close to Harry. You knew that you could call him whenever you needed him and he’d always answer, but you weren’t close to him the way you were in this moment.

“I love you baby.” He mumbles lowly against your lips after slightly pulling away from you.

“I love you too.” You mumble back to him before lifting your head up a bit to reconnect your lips with his for one final kiss. “Now get in bed with me!” You whine, pulling him down towards the bed. 

“Have t’get dressed.” He laughs at your eagerness. 

“Who said you needed to wear clothes to bed?” You quickly reply, leaving him no other choice but to dry himself off and hop into bed with you. “Now it’s time for your goodnight kiss.” And with that, you moved your body so that you were between his legs and you used your mouth in the best way possible to send him right to sleep. Just because you weren’t expecting to do much didn’t mean you were expecting to do nothing at all. How could you not take up the opportunity to not only pleasure him but to also help him unwind?! Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t touched him in almost two weeks.

Now even though this was supposed to be a relaxing weekend for you and Harry to spend some quality time together, Harry still managed to get holed up in his office. And even though you were fully aware and understanding of the fact that his job could be demanding at times, you still couldn’t understand why they couldn’t let him have a little bit of an extended weekend since they did have him for a straight week and a half. The one thing you did know in this entire situation is that you had to get him away from the work and into you instead. And you knew just how to do it. You checked in on him the first time right after you woke up and realized that he wasn’t in bed with you. When you did, you gave him a ton of kisses and an incentives for stepping away from the desk but he wouldn’t budge. All you got out of that was a kiss to your lips, a promise to give it to you real good later on, and the task of getting him another cup of coffee. At this point, you realized that you were going to have to make him step away from the work.

 So after you deliver his cup of coffee, you make your way upstairs to put yourself together. After you get out of the shower, you throw on the perfect outfit (or lack there of to be completely honest) to get Harry to focus on you. Pulling from the bag you packed, you went for a cute little pastel thong that barely covered anything and was just there for the appeal, along with a tight fitting crop top that had “Daddy’s Girl” written across the chest. It was prefect. If this didn’t get Harry’s attention, you don’t know what what could. After doing a little once over and twirl in the mirror, you head back downstairs to try your hand once more at getting Harry to put the work to the side. Hopefully he got something done in the hour and a half you spent upstairs because you weren’t going anywhere without getting something from him. When you walk down the hallway leading to his office, you could hear him talking to someone on the phone but that doesn’t stop you from walking right into the doorway of his office. When you first walked in he could see you out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned around to fully face you, Harry was completely dumbfounded at your appearance. There was so much to take in! 

“Daddy I’m bored.” You huff loudly, causing Harry to scramble around behind his desk, hoping that his colleague didn’t hear you through the phone. 

“M‘ gonna have to call you back.” He says abruptly before hanging up the phone, keeping his eyes right on you the entire time. He then slides his phone onto the desk and pushes his chair out a little from the desk before wagging his finger in your direction, beckoning you to come over to him. 

In an instant, you’re following his nonverbal instruction and your making your way over to him. As you’re walking over, Harry takes you in. Aside from the lack of clothing, Harry couldn’t get enough of your body. He couldn’t get enough of your figure. Your hips were perfectly rounded and full and your chest was absolutely abundant with your breasts.  When you round the desk and step in front of him, you don’t even bother to stop and wait for a direction. You just go right in and you straddle Harry before sitting yourself right in his lap. Instead of saying anything right away, you decide to wait until you’re spoken to. That’s the least you could do since you already broke two of his rules. 

“You’re so lucky I could use a good fuck right now.” He sighs, finally breaking the silence while  continuing to look your body over your body. Now that you were sitting down, he could see the string like waistband of your panties digging into you fleshy hips, and he could see your pert nipples pushing right up against the thin material of your t-shirt. 

“What would happen if you weren’t daddy?” You “innocently” inquire, lifting yourself up a bit just to move yourself but higher up on his lap before plopping yourself back down onto him. 

“Well luckily for you, I’m always in need of a good fuck from this beautiful body of yours.” He begins, removing one of his hands from your fleshy hips up to your chest to latch onto one of your ample breast’s through the thin shirt you had on. “But when I do punish you, because all brats deserve punishments, I’m gonna make sure you learn your lesson.” He says simply, continuing to fondle your breast.

“What are you gonna do to me daddy?” You press on, beginning to move yourself back and forth right against his cock. 

“Now what’s the fun in me telling you my plans? All I’m gonna say is that unless our safe word falls from that pretty mouth of yours, m’gonna use you any way I want, and m’gonna do anything I want to you.” He explains. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds amazing.” You moan, continuing to push yourself back and forth against his now completely hard cock.

“I figured you’d like the idea of being my personal fuck toy.” He chuckles smartly as you bring your face down to kiss at his neck. “But I do have to say, even though you’re such a little brat, you definitely make up for it in being the perfect little slut f’me.” 

“Mhm, just for daddy.” You hum, keeping your mouth against his skin. As you continue kissing at his neck, you continue moving your hips against him as well. You also pull his hand that was squeezing at your hip down between your legs. 

“Does my little girl want daddy’s cock?” He asks “surprisedly” when he feels you pull his hand down to touch the puffy mound between your legs.

“Yes daddy.” You moan against him when you feel his fingers poking at you through your panties. 

“I guess I can let you have your way since I’ll be spending the better part of the day teaching you a lesson.” He rations, removing his hand from your breast and using it to grip onto your throat and pull your face from his neck before lifting you up and onto the desk in front of him. He then pushes his seat back some more so that he can stand up and tower above you. He quickly clears the space on the desk behind you before swiftly removing the tight shirt from your body and returning his hand to your throat, pushing you to lay back. Instead of wasting anymore time, Harry brings a hand down to your panties that were extremely close to just snapping and just rips them off your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him. His eyes travel all the way down, from your breasts to the area between your legs, each time taking a moment to touch and feel your soft body in his hands. When he makes it to the area between your legs though, Harry immediately crouches down to be at eye level with your cunt. “Oh sweetheart” He begins, taking in your bare cunt. “Look at you.” He admires, bringing his hand back there to feel how smooth and bare you were. The area was a sticky mess since there were not curly hairs for your arousal to cling onto. Even though he loved when you had your hair down there, he couldn’t get enough of how messy it got and how good it was to really feel the plump lips of your pussy in his mouth. He also liked to lick your arousal from your thighs. After staring and petting the smooth area, Harry finally brings his mouth to your cunt and goes straight into licking up and down your folds.

“Daddy! Feels so good!” You moan incoherently, feeling him eat into you like his life depended on it. Not only would he lick into you, he’d also suck on your swollen and oh so sensitive bud, and slightly sink his teeth into your thick pussy lips.

“Oh my- you are so delicious.” Harry moans from between your legs, savoring how amazing you taste. No matter how many times he licked into you, Harry would never get over how good you tasted on his tongue. “I could eat this pussy of yours for the rest of my life!” He exclaims, continuing to eat and marvel at your cunt. “You even look perfect too.” He says, pulling his head back to stare at your mound. “It just swallows up everything it touches. Your panties, my fingers, my tongue, my cock…” He continues on, taking in how pretty and puffy your pussy was for him. He always knew how meaty and utterly delicious your cunt was, but seeing it bare and as a result being able to get a better view of you made it even better. 

After a bit more oogling at your mound a bit longer, Harry finally goes back to eating you out. He uses his fingers and mouth to drive you wild, fucking you with two fingers while he either bites into your fleshy lips, sucks on your swollen little button, or licks into you. As he continues, you are gripping onto your supple breasts and letting out the biggest moans as Harry pushes you to a release. The way he was raving about your pussy and ravenously eating you was absolutely insane and it pushed you right into your release. Your moans echoed through the room as you let go all over Harry’s tongue to which he made sure to lick up every last drop before standing back up.

“Oh my goodness doll!” He coos, looking down at your now limp body below him. “You look like you’re even more of proper little slut for daddy now.” He admires, properly taking in how loopy you were now and your heaving naked body that was spread across his desk. “Wish there was a dildo in here for you to choke on but your panties will do I guess. I’ll just fuck your mouth myself later on.” He sighs, reaching  for the ripped panties he sat on the desk moments prior before pushing them past your parted lips and stuffing them into your mouth. He then pushes his pants down his legs to reveal his rock hard cock. Without wasting anymore time simply staring at you, Harry gives his shaft a couple tugs before guiding himself into you. “Fuck princess!” He loudly groans, finally feeling your walls engulfing his cock again. “Y’cunt always swallows m’cock perfectly.” He grunts as he watches himself disappear into you. 

While Harry was losing his mind from how good your cunt was, you were a whimpering and quivering mess. He’d made you cum less than five minuets ago and he was already pushing his cock inside to fuck you. Even though you loved feeling his big cock stretch your tight walls to fit, your pussy was incredibly sensitive from his mouth. So you could already knew that you’d not only be sensitive, you’d also be sore. Which was exactly what Harry wanted. Once he was balls deep inside of you, Harry immediately began pounding into you. His eyes were trained on your breasts that were bouncing freely on your chest with every thrust of his cock down into your quivering cunt. He could feel your walls squeezing him with every thrust and he could feel himself hitting the deepest part of you over and over again, slamming himself into the pit of your stomach with every thrust.

“That’s it babydoll.” He growls, releasing one of your hips from his hand to wrap it around your throat. “Take daddy’s cock all the way up into that little tummy of yours.” He continues, keeping his eyes locked on your glassy ones. “M’gonna cum in there too. Want you t’be completely filled up by daddy.” He pants, feeling his already bubbling release begin to intensify. “Feel you squeezin’ m’cock, wanna cum again for daddy?” He questions through a pant. Since he was practically pinning your head to the desk by means of his grip on your throat, you could only give him a faint nod yes and a whimper. “C’mon then baby, cum with daddy.” He grunts, continuing to send more sharp yet staggered thrusts into you as he starts to feel wave of his release begging to overtake him. From the way he was gripping onto your body and shoving his cock deep inside of you, you weren’t able to stop yourself from squirting all over his cock and going numb from the waist down. Your seismic release from earlier doubled in size and just crashed down onto you. The same with Harry, his release crashed down onto him, resulting in rope after rope of his cum pouring into you just like he promised. 

Even though it took a little while for you guys’ weekend to get started, neither of you would have it any other way. Just based off of this round alone, you and Harry immediately knew it was going to be a very long and pleasure filled weekend.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #my harry writing #best friends dad!h #older!harry #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

[jean-kayak]

As a Greek mythology nerd, can I request hc’s of Dabi, Mirio, Kirishima, and Todoroki reacting to their black crush having a Gorgon quirk? She has locs that can turn into snakes, her quirk works when she glares at someone to turn em to stone but if she glares too long; she temporarily blinds herself so her snakes help with her senses, and she has slit eyes and a snake tongue that she jokingly hisses with at times. Sis is a bit self conscious of her quirk since people fear/discriminate mutant quirk types so she’s worried about being an embarrassment to her partner

A/N: Here you go anon, I hope you like it! Also, I made Todoroki's so long lmfao

🔵He doesn't even care about how you look

🔵And I mean like, your appearance literally doesn't bother him at all

🔵When you first met, it was late at night, and he scared you

🔵Your back was to him, so your first instinct was to activate your quirk, the snakes looking his way as you froze

🔵"Holy shit, that's pretty cool."

🔵"Who are you?" you ask defensively, keeping your back towards him

🔵"Someone who's not gonna hurt you."

🔵You scoff. "Yeah, right. One look at you and I can turn you to stone," you declare, your threat responded with a chuckle

🔵"No shit." You debate in your head if you should turn around, but if you run it could be worse for you

🔵But from his words and his demeanor, it doesn't really seem like his goal is to cause you harm

🔵You slowly turn around, your snakes turning back into hair, your eyes finally landing on him. "What do you want?"

🔵"For starters? Your number."

🔵And that's how your relationship started, mostly Dabi convincing you that there's nothing wrong with your quirk

🔵And there's nothing wrong with you, and that he will be the last person to ever judge anything about you

🔵His crush on you is pretty obvious considering the fact that he keeps popping out of nowhere, asking you different questions about your quirk and what you can do

🔵One day, he makes a joke wondering if you could make only his dick turn to stone

🔵And you give him a crazy look as you shake your head before you hiss at him softly

🔵"Did you just hiss at me?" You didn't even realize it, quickly recoiling into yourself, and he scoffs at you fondly, grabbing your hand loosely to turn your attention back towards him

🔵"Babe, I told you. I don't care, and it doesn't bother me. I like you, okay? And your quirk is awesome. I mean that."

☀️He was on patrol one day when he first met you, seeing you surrounded by a group of people cornering you towards the wall

☀️"What's going on over here?"

☀️Everyone freezes, all of them slowly turning around, and his eyebrows raise when he sees someone standing in the middle

☀️Your back is against the wall, your head down. "Well?"

☀️They don't say anything, and within the next few seconds they're quickly walking away

☀️The whole interaction confuses him, but he's more focused on you, turning his attention towards you

☀️"Are you okay?" he asks gently, and you nod quickly, glancing up at him for a split second

☀️"Yes, yeah, I am. Thanks," you tell him, finally looking up at him

☀️He freezes for a second when your eyes finally meet his, and he's captivated immediately

☀️You blink at him, and it jumps him out of his temporary trance, realizing he was just staring at you and wasn't saying anything

☀️And he clears his throat. "Um, do you need me to walk you anywhere?"

☀️You give him a soft smile as you shake your head, pointing towards your left. "No, it's okay. The building I need to get to is right there. Thank you though."

☀️He's nodding his head, telling you to have a good day before you echo him and walk away

☀️For about the next few days, he purposefully patrols the area where he met you, hoping he can run into you again

☀️When he does spot you miraculously one day, he's quickly making his way over to you, calling out before he reaches you to not scare you

☀️A small smile forms on your face as he gets to you. "I just wanted to check--oh." Your face drops when he suddenly stops, and he cringes internally when he realizes he said that out loud

☀️"I'm sorry, it's just your eyes...are different." They don't look the same as when he first ran into you, and they look like average eyes

☀️You instantly curl into yourself as you huff softly. "They're contacts. My eyes kinda freaking people out cause they're weird-"

☀️"Unique." He cuts you off instantly, and you meet his gaze again. "I really like your eyes. They're beautiful."

☀️You can't help but smile as you feel your face grow warm. "And I would really like to take you out on a date if that's okay."

🔴Thinks your quirk is the coolest thing in the world

🔴He always saw that you would shy away slightly, and he asked you why

🔴Your response was that most people think you're a freak, explaining that you've been called worse names that you wouldn't like to repeat

🔴He's taken aback, anger stirring slightly in his chest at the thought of people being mean to you, and he makes it his mission to never make you feel that way again

🔴He's always asking you questions about your quirk, nearly gushing about what you can do and how awesome it is

🔴To the point where he doesn't even realize that he's got a massive crush on you

🔴He realizes when he compliments for probably the hundredth time that day, and you give him a fond look, your eyes making his heart flutter in his chest

🔴He suddenly starts to get really nervous around you and becomes very cautious about what questions he asked because he doesn't want to weird you out

🔴You notice this like immediately because you're so used to him throwing questions at you

🔴When you ask him about it, he chuckles softly as he rubs the back of his neck

🔴"Can, uh," he trails off, his face going warm, feeling dumb now, but he's already started so he might as well finish. "I touch your hair?"

🔴You raise your eyebrows in surprise, and he starts talking before you can answer

🔴"I know it's weird, and I probably just made you really uncomfortable. But I just think it's cool that you can just make it come alive, and now it's really awkward--"

🔴You cut off his rambling with a chuckle as you step closer to him. "It's okay, Eijirou."

🔴You hold out one of your locs, and he carefully runs his fingers over it, and he jumps slightly when it slowly turns into a snake, coming to life in front of his eyes

🔴"God, you are so amazing," he breathes in awe not even realizing what he said

🔴"It's crazy how much I like you." Now that is what makes both of you freeze, and his eyes widen his mouth falling open slightly as he wishes a hole would come in and swallow him

🔴"You what?" you chuckle slightly, turning your head to face him, the snake turning back into your hair

🔴His face is crazy red, but then he thinks, what does he have to lose? "I really, really like you."

🔴And he's practically through the roof when you confess the same thing, and when you agree to go on a date with him

❄You were a barista at the cafe he always went to before he went to work, and he was immediately drawn to your eyes, and he always caught himself staring for just a beat too long whenever you would hand him his drink

❄One day he happens to catch you sitting at one of the tables, so he decided to take a chance and sit with you, starting up a conversation, and he had checked the time on his phone, realizing he was going to be late for work, but for whatever reason, he couldn't find himself to care

❄The only reason why he left was because you had to get to work, but he started making it a priority to get there early so that he could talk to you for as long as he could, and Sero actually calls him out on it, tired of having to cover for him, and that's when Todoroki tells him about you

❄He nearly rambles on for thirty minutes, telling him about how cute it was whenever you would accidentally hiss when you talked really fast or if you were talking about something that was exciting to you

❄They're halfway through patrol when Sero cuts off his list with a chuckle, making Todoroki look at him in confusion. "What's so funny?" he genuinely asks, and Sero raises an eyebrow at him

❄"Because you have a crush, Shouto. It's like clear as day." He stops for a second before noticing that he was basically a broken dam the moment Sero asked him why he had been late for the past couple of weeks

❄He feels his ears go hot as he asks, "Well, what should I do?"

❄"Other than the obvious answer, which is ask her out?" Sero tells him, and he throws out multiple questions, still overwhelmed by the conclusion as he thinks about all of the things that he likes about you

❄Sero laughs softly before giving him some advice to help boost his confidence, and Shouto finds himself outside of the cafe right at closed, knowing that you're the one who closes

❄"Oh, Todoroki. What're you doing here?" He rubs his hands on his pants as before he answers

❄"I was just wondering if I could walk you home? If that's okay with you?"

❄You smile softly as you nod, locking the door before walking down the sidewalk. The walk isn't as awkward as he thought, the conversation flowing between the two of you easily before he notices something

❄"If you don't mind me asking, why're you wearing a sweatshirt?" Even though the sun is starting to set, the humid air is still lingering, and you have to be hot

❄The question immediately changes your demeanor, and he stops walking at your reaction. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if--"

❄"It's my quirk," you start. "It scares people so I cover my hair to prevent that," you admit, feeling at ease with telling him

❄You start to take off the hood, and you stop his protests, telling him that it's okay. He watches as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, and he's in a trance when he watches your locs transform into snakes right in front of his eyes

❄He doesn't respond, and you start to get worried, but then he blurts out, "Can I touch them?"

❄You almost open your eyes in surprise before you chuckle softly as you raise your hand

❄You take his hand and bring it up to the snakes, and he scoffs in amazement as one of them darts its tongue across his finger

❄"This doesn't scare you?" you ask hesitantly

❄"I wanted to ask you out," he responds bluntly, and you deactivate your quirk, opening your eyes to look at him in surprise

❄"Really?" And a soft smile appears on his face as he nods

❄"Yes," he states firmly.

❄And you smile widely. "I'd love to."

#dabi headcanons #mirio togata headcanons #kirishima eijiro headcanons #todoroki shouto headcanons #dabi x black!reader #mirio togata x black reader #kirishima eijirou x black reader #todoroki shouto x black reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader

[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 2.3K 

--

The day had started just like any other day. He woke up early and worked out before making himself a small breakfast of tea and an English muffin with some jam. Then he got dressed for work in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His routine was flawless, perfected over many years to allow him to seamlessly slip from one task into the next. He arrived one full hour before work actually began so that he could organize his desk and get a jump on the day’s cleaning. He liked working in a clean environment, if this step was missed (or really any of them for that matter), his entire day was thrown off. 

And today was one of those days. About four minutes before the office officially opened, Levi got a phone call. He had the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he finished wiping down his desk with a clorox wipe. 

“We regretfully inform you that your cousin and his wife were involved in an armed robbery.” 

He froze at this, his eyes narrowing as the woman waited for his response. 

“What was stolen?” He asked before continuing to wipe down the surface. 

“Sir…” The woman spoke slowly and Levi began to lose his patience. 

“Listen, I appreciate the phone call but quite honestly I don’t have time for this.” He said bitterly as he disposed of the wipe. 

“This is very important sir, your cousin, and his wife were both murdered in the process.” The woman informed him and his blood ran cold. Although he had never been close with his extended family, the news was still tragic. 

“I see,” Levi grumbled as a boulder seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m calling regarding their daughter, Mikasa. Seeing that Mr. Ackerman was an only child, as was Mrs. Ackerman, and their parents have passed, you and your uncle are her next of kin.” The woman continued as Levi sank into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do we need to do?” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for her response. 

“You have a few options, either of you could gain full parental rights to her, or she will become a ward of the state.” Some shuffling could be heard on her end of the line and Levi felt his heart rate spike. For a time in his own life, he had been thrown into the system, that was until his own uncle had gained custody after sobering up. 

“I understand,” Levi grumbled, watching as his coworkers set about their daily business as he was dealing with this unforeseen issue. 

“The decision doesn’t need to be made immediately of course. I strongly encourage that the two of you discuss this at length. The funeral is this Thursday, Mikasa and myself will be there and we can talk in greater depth then.” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled the short silence as he considered what an appropriate response would be. 

“I’ll...get back to you.” He leaned forward in his seat and clicked on his calendar, crossing out the lengthy list of tasks and replacing it with, FUNERAL. 

“Thank you, and sorry for your loss.” He hung up the phone and reclined back into his seat. This was quite possibly the biggest disruption he would ever face in his life. He hated that his cousin and his shitty wife had left this burden to rest on his shoulders. But upon further thought, his own mother had done the same thing to his uncle. You know what they say: history repeats itself. 

It seemed that as soon as he had set the phone down, it rang. His uncle’s contact lit up his screen and he let it ring three times before picking it up. 

“Did ya hear?” Kenny’s deep voice crackled over his speaker and Levi grunted. 

“Yeah, just got off of the phone with the social worker,” Levi informed him and Kenny hummed deeply. 

“What do you think?” He pressed and Levi felt his annoyance increase by tenfold. 

“I think that it’s a load of shit. And you?” Levi asked as he crossed his legs under his desk. 

“Same here.” Kenny agreed. 

“It’s not ideal, but we can’t let her go into foster care,” Kenny grumbled and Levi hummed his agreement. Kenny was right, even if she was distantly related, Mikasa was still a part of their family. 

“So are you going to take custody then?” Levi scoffed, knowing damn well that Kenny was pushing fifty and had a chronic case of bad arthritis. 

“Hell no, I’ve done my part by raising you.” Kenny laughed bitterly and Levi’s expression soured. 

“It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.” Levi countered and Kenny let out another bark of laughter. 

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Kenny chuckled mirthfully as Levi shifted in his seat. He knew that Kenny was right, and he knew from the moment that the social worker had said that Mikasa needed someone, that it would be him taking her. 

“I’ll need to get a bigger place then.” Levi sighed his fingers rubbing tight circles over his temple as he thought of his bachelor-sized apartment. 

“Damn straight.” Kenny chuckled as Levi shot a look at the clock, it was nearly twenty minutes into the workday already. 

“Look, I’m at work. I’ll talk to you on Thursday at the funeral.” 

“See you then.” Kenny hung up and Levi let out a long exhale. His week was off to a terrible start. 

--

In movies, funerals are usually held in dreary weather. But today was almost too beautiful for a funeral. It was late January and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of sparkling snow. As the coffins were lowered into the two holes the social worker held Mikasa on her hip. She was only four, and there was no way that she could fully grasp what had happened. Levi stood with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. 

Kenny stood off to his left, a large distance between the two of them. There couldn’t have been more than seven people here, Levi assumed that they were friends of the family. The other attendees came up to him before and gave their condolences to Levi and Kenny, who both said nothing in return. The service was quick, Levi and Kenny had opted out of paying more than what the state offered. In Kenny’s own words, “Dead is dead, no fancy funeral is going to help them now.” 

To some, it may seem heartless, but it was the way that the family coped with death. Once the funeral was over, Kenny and Levi joined the service worker to get a cup of coffee in a nearby cafe. She had passed Mikasa off to a brunette woman before leaving the cemetery. Levi assumed that she was the foster woman that they had placed her with, or possibly a family friend. 

“So, I understand that you wish to gain custody?” Michelle was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. As she flipped through files that were spread across the table Levi nodded as he sipped his tea. 

“That’s correct,” Levi affirmed and she nodded before spinning the paperwork so that he could read the form. 

“I’m sure that you understand that this is no small commitment.” She spoke as she passed him a pen. He scoffed and began initialing and signing where necessary. 

“Of course,” Levi grunted before flipping the page. 

“Before you can gain full custody, the state will need to see some changes in your lifestyle, for starters, you’ll need to move within her current school district and continue to hold a steady job.” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi mumbled, pausing to read the paper before signing. 

“Excellent, once these needs are met, she can be placed under your care,” Michelle informed as Levi skimmed over the page. 

“Anything else?” Levi asked as he signed the last form presented to him. 

“Not at this time, I’m sure that you’re well versed in most of our policies, seeing that the two of you went through a similar process.” Michelle continued as she neatly returned the papers to their folder. 

“Yes.” Levi agreed as he brought his cup back to his lips. Kenny had been silent for most of the exchange. If Levi was being honest, he was relieved to have him there, even if he wasn’t contributing. 

“Great, we’ll be in touch then.” Michelle smiled tensely before excusing herself, leaving Kenny and Levi alone at the table. Kenny finished his coffee and stood up, stretching with a loud groan. 

“Well, I’m off to the office,” Kenny said with a short wave behind his shoulder. Levi watched him go, feeling a strange sense of dread settle into his gut. It all felt so surreal, even if he was thirty and most of his peers were already parents themselves, he still felt unprepared. It was just like Kenny had said, nothing could prepare him to take on this role. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t his to take, and he would be damned if he let Mikasa get thrown into the foster care system. 

Levi set to work on finding a house in the district that the social worker had given him. He had never been a fan of suburbs, but at this time it was all that he could afford. So he found a decent house with four bedrooms, one for himself, one for Mikasa one for guests, and a final for a study. He was lucky enough to have a decent job, and a respectable grasp on his finances, it took him a week to finalize the buy, but in the end, he was glad that he did. 

He had been meaning to get out of his stuffy apartment anyway, (or so he reasoned with himself), he moved his belongings out of his downtown apartment in less than a week. Once the house was effectively moved into, he then began the tedious process of preparing Mikasa’s things. He started by doing research on what four-year-olds needed and then set about buying the necessities. He felt out of place as he shopped through Target in the little girl’s section, buying bedding and such. But he got the job done, he knew that she had to have some clothes, and decided that he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

It was the night before Michelle was scheduled to visit, and Levi had invited Hange over for a drink. Hange had nosed around for about an hour, acquainting herself with Levi’s new space and gushing when she saw the modest room that he had prepared for Mikasa. 

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going through with this!” Hange cooed as she sat on the small bed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively as he propped himself on the doorframe. Honestly, he had been avoiding this room, it felt that if he acknowledged the space, the heavier the weight of the situation crushed his chest. 

“I just...never thought that you liked kids. But I’m really proud of you.” Hange beamed as she smoothed out the pink comforter as she stood. 

“What made you think that I didn’t like kids?” He scoffed as the pair left the room, he closed the door quietly behind them as they made their way into the kitchen. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I just made the assumption based on your obsession with cleanliness.” Hange waved her hand dismissively and Levi clicked his tongue as he poured two glasses of wine. 

“They are filthy.” Levi agreed as he brought the glass of red wine to his lips. 

“What’s she like?” Hange asked, wrapping her own fingers around her glass as she eagerly awaited his response. 

“....I haven’t met her.” Levi felt a wave of panic crash over his chest as Hange’s eyes widened. 

“Never?” Hange couldn’t hide her astonishment. 

“Never,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’re serious?” Hange pressed and Levi glared at her. 

“Do I ever joke about these things?” Levi snapped and she held her hands up in defeat. 

“I’m just surprised is all,” Hange mumbled before taking a long sip of her wine. 

“I wasn’t close with her parents,” Levi explained as he put the cork back on the bottle. 

“Well...maybe you should take some extra time off of work,” Hange suggested and Levi sighed deeply. 

“I can’t, I’ve already taken off more than I planned.” Levi sat on the barstool next to Hange and she swiveled to face him, their knees knocking against each other. 

“But this is not something that you take lightly Levi. She’s a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents. She’s going to need a lot of attention.” Hange looked concerned and Levi’s expression soured. 

“I understand that, but my job is-” 

“Is not your priority anymore. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for childcare yet? She’s too young for school. Or at least not full days.” Hange interrupted. 

“So I’ll put her in daycare, or preschool.” Levi shrugged and Hange pursed her lips. 

“That could work, but don’t you usually stay late at the office?” Hange pressed and Levi chewed on the inside of his cheek guiltily. 

“Maybe you should consider getting a nanny. Plenty of my student’s nanny, I could give you some good recommendations.” She offered before lifting her glass to her lips. 

“Maybe…” Levi suddenly felt way in over his head, if all went well in the morning, then Mikasa would be sent his way in nearly a week. 

“I’ll ask around on Monday,” Hange said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away. 

#Levi fanfiction #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi is a dad #reader insert #levi x y/n #levi x reader insert #Levi x You #levi x reader #levi x nanny!reader #modern au #nanny au #aot fandom #aot x you #Mikasa Ackerman #Eren Mikasa Armin #eren jeager #armin arlert #Annie Leonhardt #reiner braun #connie springer #sasha braus #jean kirstein #Erwin Smith #hange zoe #hange zoe is a teacher #aot fanfiction #aot

[jockpoetry]

supernatural sees women as a tool for development and strengthening of narratives/motivation and dean sees his body as a tool. is that anything?

When I saw this ask I really made the 🥴in real life. So, yeah anon, I do think there’s something to this.

Quick Disclaimer before I actually launch into my thoughts™: A lot of my read of Dean stems from my experience as both an oldest daughter and a transman. Being the oldest daughter was an experience I lived for many years, but I am also a man. I wasn’t raised as a man, I wasn’t socialized as a man, and even though once I came out upon reflection my masculinity was obviously there. Like I was a man™ before I knew I was a man. Even when I actively tied my identity to femininity for a long time! A lot of my prideful moments were based around statements like: “I was the only girl who (fill in the blank).” 

So I am just putting that out there before I launch into my spiel about Dean/Gender/Tool because they all interlock for me. 

I am also going to apologize in advance because I know this has fully gone off the rails and I’m not even done writing it yet. If this is incomprehensible ! Well, happens to the best of us.

First off, most importantly I guess before we discuss womanhood and Dean and the way both are utilized on the show I need to say that I personally don’t subscribe the whole Dean is female coded thing. 

It’s a read I can absolutely understand. But for me..he’s not. 

He’s a hypermasculine man to the point that when (and because he is written as a punchline, as the stupid™ brother, as the whore™, as the mother/father™, as daddy’s blunt instrument™, etc) Dean deviates from the pre-accepted definition of hypermasculine it’s Wrong. 

It’s Instantly Feminine. 

I think the internet has made the world very black and white, or blue and pink maybe. This point, I think, colors a lot of these discussions. Dean cooks, he cleans and so therefor he’s female coded. When that really just feeds back into the whole toxic masculinity loop. You can’t be masculine and cook and clean and cry. That’s for feminine people only. 

I get the argument! I do, I just think that Dean’s actions are not inherently feminine, it’s just in the vacuum of Female and in the Absence of Traditional Masculinity it makes sense to assign him female coded and move on.

IN FACT the way that Dean is the action hero of the show, the Masculine™ one on the show - but he cries, and he rages, and he cooks (Again and Again) and cleans (Again and Again). The fact he’s macho and confident but he has so little self esteem. Is frankly insane to me. You have this blaze of glory character who is so depressed that they have him kill himself. Twice. In explicitly “I hate myself, I hate hearing all the things I hate about myself, I want to destroy myself” ways. 

On just a regular ol’ network show that is just ungodly bad at times. They let their Male Hero cry - all the time (if I linked every example of this the essay would be...longer than it already is, but just take my word for it). Dean tears up and grieves and shows more than just Angry Horny Violent™ (he shows plenty of that, don’t get me wrong) but he’s Emotional (Again and Again and Again). In many different ways!

I mean, beyond even just tearing up, they make their Male Hero™ face sexual violence in pretty, uniquely horrifying - and queer! - ways.

Let’s make it clear, they did a lot of this unintentionally. 

Or they do it as a joke. 

Off of dean for a moment to say women are plot devices in this show. I could probably count on one hand female characters who have sincere depth to them that have roles outside of progressing plot, filling a filler episode, and who are still alive. Like even characters such as Charlie who are wholly developed, and interesting, are only remembered/mentioned/utilized to progress plots or fill an episode out - and then she dies. For pain™ for plot™ for no other reason than to traumatize a character. 

Which let’s also make it clear Dean’s trauma is also only used as a plot device (as is Sam’s but in a different way, and Cas’ trauma is a whole other barrel of fish we’re not gonna dive into right now). Like wholesale full stop they don’t actually care about what happened to him. Unless it’s relevant in an episode. 

Oh that boys home he was left at when he was 16 for months? Sure we’ll sprinkle that in in the back half of the series. Oh he was covered in bruises and said it was from a hunt (when it’s clear contextually they were from his father but saying the fantastical but true is easier than saying the uncomfortable but true). As Dean says though the story became the story, he was sixteen. He just went along with what John said.

We only see Dean ever truly rage at John, by the way, when either Dean is dead (when he’s between life and death and he rages at John, right before John “apologizes” for traumatizing him, for putting too much on Dean’s shoulders, and fucking dying) or John is dead (the Djinn episode where Dean is straight™ and John is dead™ and he goes to his grave and just yells and rages like he should have to his father in the real world).

Dean’s trauma from being both tortured and torturer in hell? Yeah, we don’t talk about that after it’s Relevant™. Even though it’s clear - especially in the demon!dean, mark of cain era, all those years later - Alastair still has his hooks inside of Dean. I stopped watching originally after s8 ended. I was fed up with the show, and with this whole renaissance I’ve been doing a rewatch and I’m into season twelve now and it really has never come up again. 

Even when he had the mark of cain and he was tasked with questioning and accused of torturing it was “the mark has changed you” and not “you were victim and victimizer in hell for forty years, which is longer than you’ve been alive on earth” (and, was about as long as he wound up living. Which is desperately sad.

Because we talk about Sam’s desire for a “normal” life but, Dean wanted out too. He was tired in the first few seasons of this show, he never had a chance to taste freedom (we don’t count the boys home, because that was a different kind of regimented life, and it was a false freedom) the way that Sam did in Flagstaff with Bones or at Stanford with Jessica. Love for Dean is sacrificing, it’s putting himself/his happiness/his well-being last.

Because Dean only knows love in the context of violence (like all of these fun examples, for starters) is a phrase that I’ve said a lot both in private chats and on here, and I absolutely think it goes to him being a tool (a blunt instrument, a plot device, so both textually and metatextually) instead of a person. Which Cas sees Dean’s shame/guilt and sees that side of Dean because he touched his soul, and saw more than just the Righteous™ man, more than just the tool, he saw A good man, not a machine. 

On the other side though you have how “bad guys” view Dean: Desperate, Sloppy, Needy, Dean’s hole (Again), which is again so wildly counterintuitive to the story of a Macho Man Hero™. You’re using vocabulary that is both queering him and feminizing (and I know this a meme format, but sincerely it is done in a derogatory way it is feminizing. It’s breaking him down to bare parts, to a sloppy hole). 

My whole rewatch I have been absolutely fascinated by how identity and free will is utilized/conceptualized on this show. Castiel has been my main focus, but Dean and how he is framed by himself and others is...fascinating - and frustrating. The writers inconsistency lends itself not only to this unintentionally queer character, but also one that again is incredibly easily read as a non-traditionally masculine character.

As a feminine character.

This show has so few female characters that of course it had to foist the roles/behaviors/plots that a female character might have onto a male character. Which I think is part of why reading Dean as trans (either transmasc, or transfemme) is so easily done like.   

Half of these are shit posts, but you can find trans allegories/textual evidence in this show again, again, again, again, and again. And this is unintentional, they don’t want you to look at Dean and see woman, former future or present. Like a lot of these I’m sure are punchlines for them, because women/queer folk are punchlines to them. 

Sometimes the only women in an episode are random witnesses who get two sentences of dialogue, and then the main guest character is a man. Who flirts with Dean, and Dean is receptive to it. 

They paint themselves into a corner, there are female Rabbi. So easily could Aaron have been a woman instead of a man, but they made the choice to play up the HaHa Dean & Men card. 

Because, again, Dean has filled the slot of Woman™ of Female Lead™ and the flirting would’ve been straight if Dean was a woman. It’s a plot device, they needed to have the guest character be disarming, be cute, make the main character flustered. 

It’s just the main character is a man, because they’re allergic to women. But they still need those female plots, tools of femininity, to move their show forward. I mean I am a big subscriber to transmasc Jo (no idea if anyone else is with me on this one, but let me explain). Jo is in love with Dean (concept) not Dean (actuality). Which, we’ve all had our eggs cracked by someone like that. We were in love with them until we realized we just wanted to be them.

He loved her like a little sister, she loved him like a lost idol. He’s a golden calf and she dies for him, because she believed in him, she was the original character dashed at the altar of the Winchesters. 

I fully believe if she had lived and if this show had a crumb of actual good writing Jo could have been a deeply compelling transmasc character. But I also think she’s a fascinating inversion of Dean. Dean is a Masculine Character who subverts Toxic Masculinity, Jo is a Tomboy™ she’s not your (if you take it straight, literally and metaphorically) average female love interest. She’s angry, she’s not soft at all, all edges and corners and thorns. She isn’t helpless, she’s stubborn but not in a “you’re going to get punished for this” way. She’s right when she’s stubborn. She’s helpful, she’s a martyr. 

I could do a whole other essay just on Jo (and Ellen, and Ash, what a fucking trio!) but needless to say Jo was one of the first...plot device feminine tools sacrificed to this show. She was a regular, she was unique, she was an engaging character, and she still died (to progress the plot? no. for man pain? yeah, for like three episodes maybe, and then it’s forgotten just like the rest of Dean’s trauma, as we mentioned above). 

Dean and Women and Love is a very interesting tool used too because. Boy they sure try to make Dean love women and it fails in small ways, and in big, meaningless, failed het domesticity (again) ways. Not to mention whatever Lust (in the form of a woman) having no effect upon him, when they could have used that moment to assert his Masculinity and Heterosexuality. He behaved normally? And...also...whatever the fuck the Adios thing was!

Like they have these opportunities to make him Traditionally (toxically) Masculine, but make the choice to...not? To soften him. Because it’s a tool. He’s their female lead, textually he had to take on the role of mother(/father) to Sam, but...I mean this is a million miles long already. I know, but we absolutely can’t not talk about his Paternal/Maternal behaviors. (Which appear again and again again and again, outside of his relationship with Sam even/especially). He’s the mother hen, sage, safety net, beacon, home to so many side characters they meet.

I mean in many ways Jody is also a Dean comparison. Lost her family. Found a new family. She is non-traditionally feminine, but easily flustered and Silly™ (let’s just drop the entire sex talk over family dinner scene with Alex and the boys and looking to them for help, even though she was already a mother, and she’s a cop, and a hunter and this confident no nonsense individual.... She’s not). We are meant to see her as this hard ass, but she makes extra food for the boys to take back to the bunker. She’s deadly in a fight, but also still easily overwhelmed and put into damsel mode, and she cares so much even in the face of adversity.

It’s also fun to see how Jo | Jody are reflections of Dean at different points of his life. Younger, cocky | Older, settled.

Even when the text tries to tell us that he’s not.

When it reminds us that he’s violent. That he is his father, even if he says that Sam is more like John (which was reflexive, which was angry because of Adam and how Sam was behaving like Dean in that episode, and yes there are parallels to be drawn between Sam and John, the show barely dives into them). Instead we’re told that Dean is John (Again and  Again and Again and Again). 

So intensely that a fanfictionalized version of the Winchester Gospels makes it an entire fucking musical number. 

And yet, despite the texts insistence to make Dean Macho Man Father Reborn™ We get this Dean who is silly (and directly compared/contrasted to the female character in this scene), soft, in heels, nagging, and... Sully (you know Sam’s imaginary friend who has the same Haircut Dean has, who is a softer, shorter, friendlier, campier, version of Dean who was a replacement For Dean until the real one let Sam back in? That? Sully?) it’s hard to take them seriously. 

Hell, even when he was A DEMON? What did they do? They had him sing off-key drunken karaoke, they had him doing this ! Like that’s your hero, unhinged, free to be as bad as he could be, and you put him in a cowboy hat in a romance with the king of hell. 

The Female Lead, everyone. Who’s biggest betrayal(s) comes at the hands of his love interest (again, a man even though it was an angel who could’ve taken any vessel! who could’ve been recast, who canonically dies admitting his love to Dean - that one), who he tries so hard to be loyal to. 

The contradictions of his character are laughable. He is so emotional, but if he is engaged about his emotions? He shuts down, or he’s exasperated about being asked about them. It really is Female Lead/Only Here For The Plot disease, because everything is more important than him. How’s he doing? Doesn’t matter outside of the context of how x character is doing or that y character is dead. Or his emotions only matter if they’re done in penance. 

They also really do frame him as Pretty Boy™ in a violent way, or in a derogatory manner. They’ll give us homoerotic shots like this or these and never really acknowledge how these are gay shots. Sorry the gun scene is a a straight up sex scene, the beer sip spilling out over his mouth is oral, the scene where Cas fills up Dean’s glass with whisky is also a sex scene, they do this shit on purpose but accidentally queer it up. If Dean was a woman these scenes wouldn’t even matter. They’d be passing moments, but because he is not just a man but A Man™ they’re insane to see.

Not to mention all of these scenes and all the ones I haven’t linked where Dean dresses up. He performs masculinity, but he performs femininity too. He’s a plot device that is slotted in to whatever role they need. He’s Super Straight Butch Man™ but coaches the lesbian on how to successfully flirt with a man. He’s Action Hero™ who sits through a montage with the same lesbian and yays and nays her outfits, and enjoys himself.

Fuck he loves dressing up, he feels better in these costumes because performing a character is easier than being himself. Because who is Dean? He’s a tool, both textually and metatextually. It is exactly how the women and because of the women on the show that Dean is the way that he is. If there was a more steady female presence Dean would not be half as much of a plot device or half as camp/gay/feminine/non-traditionally masculine/queer coded as he is. 

In conclusion....

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn meta #spn #gender #anon #replies #messages #my writing #ANYWAYS PHEW okay anon i don't know if i even fully got to your point but i woke up at like 3:30 to this ask and i've been fixated on it #HOPE THIS IS EVEN JUST a little bit coherent #the way i meant for this to talk so much more about transness and eldest daughter syndrome and just FORGOT #oops #oh well

[backtothefanfiction]

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 5

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: One good night out turns into a two month affair.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Drug use, relationship abuse, mental manipulation, drinking, cheating, angst, language, smut, praise, fingering, slightly rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex (you know the phrase kids...).

Word Count: 6335

A/N- This is a heavy chapter so I have done a longer authors note here. Please read before continuing if you haven’t already read it. Events in this chapter take place 11 months before Italy and a couple weeks after Will’s chapter.

PART FIVE| 11 MONTHS AGO

'Hey Will said you were back. Want to go grab a drink tonight?'

'Yea, sure. Who else is gonna be there?'

'No one else, unless you want to invite others. I kinda just wanted to spend some time with you and catch up.'

'Okay, sounds good to me.'

Frankie had run into Will as he was coming out of a bar earlier that afternoon. He was grateful that Will hadn't notice him coming out through the doors of the establishment, allowing him the chance to pretend like he was just in the neighbourhood; and the fact they had run into each other outside a bar was just coincidence. When Will had casually dropped into conversation that you were home and that he had seen you, that had triggered something in Frankie. Whether it was just his slightly drugged up and alcohol riddled mind or something else, Frankie couldn't tell, but he knew he couldn't get you out of his head.

Frankie had always had a thing for you, ever since Benny first brought you home with him after your last tour together and introduced you to everyone. You were gorgeous, deadly and had a wicked sense of humour, you were everything he wanted in a woman and that's why he had been absolutely terrified to make a move. As time went on and you found your place amongst the group, Frankie came to appreciate how lucky he was just to have you in his life and as a friend and as time moved on further still, it became clear to him that he'd completely missed his chance.

He had started dating Laura just over a year ago now. She was nice, pretty, sassy. She reminded him of a slightly watered down version of you and believing he had fully missed his chance with you and would never get the real you, he figured he could do a lot worse than settling for Laura.

Around month nine of the relationship Frankie started to recognise he wasn't happy. He soon found himself relapsing into old habits he'd fallen into after he'd first come home for good and the PTSD had settled in. It started off as sneaking a bump off someone in the bathroom of a bar one night when they had gone out for drinks with some of Laura's friends. Just a little something to get him through the rest of the evening. A couple of days later it had happened again. It was only when Frankie had dug out his old burner phone from a lock box in the garage and contacted his old dealer, did he realise he was no longer in control anymore, but he didn't care. That's how he had ended up drunk texting you at half past three on a Tuesday afternoon asking you to go out with him for the evening so he didn't have to be at home with 'her'.

---------------------------

“Hey.” you said getting up from the booth you had commandeered as you waited for him to arrive.

“Hey.” he grinned as he wrapped you up into his arms, his head burying into your hair. It was so soft and smelt amazing, like coming home. “You been waiting here long?” he asked as he reluctantly pulled away from you, both of you sitting yourselves back in the booth. Frankie had taken a moment longer than he should have to get out of his truck when he had first arrived, prioritising snorting another line of coke up his nose off his dashboard, instead of coming straight in to you. A slight panic fogged his brain as he feared he'd taken longer than he had and made you wait ages for him.

“Nah, I only got here like 5 minutes ago or something like that.” You confessed and Frankie relaxed a bit. “Do you want me to go get the first round?” you asked, pointing towards the bar.

“No, its alright, I'll get it.” Frankie said hopping up from the seat. “What do you want?”

“I'll just take a beer.” you replied. You really were a girl after his own heart.

Frankie came back with two bottles of beer a few minutes later, handing one over to you as he tried to manoeuvre himself back into the booth without using his hands. “So when did you get back?” he asked casually, a typical conversation starter.

“Nearly two weeks ago.” you said, taking a sip of your beer.

“Where did you go again?” Frankie asked, his memory of where you'd been the last 6 months hazy.

“Colombia.” you said.

“Ahh, te dio la oportunidad de trabajar en tu español.” Ahh, gave you an opportunity to work on your Spanish.

“Cállate, mi español es muy bueno. Después de todo, aprendí de los mejores.” Shut up, my Spanish is great. I did learn from the best after all, you said stroking his ego and making him blush slightly.

“So what were you doing down there?”

You looked down at your bottle, unable to meet his eyes. “A whole load of stuff that, probably wasn't very legal.” you said, giving him as vague an answer as you possibly could. You looked up, expecting him to have a judgemental look on his face, but instead you were met with one of sympathy. You'd all landed yourselves in some form of shit or another since leaving active service and Frankie was the last person who could pass judgement.

You sat there for almost an hour just talking, drinking your first beers slowly. “You want another one?” Frankie asked, motioning to the empty bottle in your hands that you were now peeling the label off of.

“Yeah, sure.” you said with a smile. You looked to your left to find the pool table had also just become free. “Do you want a game?” you said motioning to the table where the last occupants were throwing the cues on top of it.

“Yeah sure. I'll go get the beers, you go rack ‘em up.” he said, hopping out of the booth with a smile.

You made your way over to the pool table, reaching your hand into the pocket of your jeans, searching for loose change. You took the quarters out, slotting them into the machine. The balls dropped like thunder as they were released, rolling towards the end of the table so you could pull them out the hole in the side. You rolled the discarded pool cues to the side of the table as you reached for the triangle, placing it on the top near you. You bent down to pull out the balls, dropping them blindly inside the triangle above your head. When you had pulled out the last one you stood and was met with Frankie's still smiling face making his way back over to you.

He handed you the beer and you took a sip before placing it on the edge of the table so you could use both your hands to pick out the balls, moving them into their correct spots within the triangle, then sliding them all into place. “Who's going first?” you asked Frankie who had put the pool cues that had been on the table, back into the rack on the wall, choosing his own to play with in the process.

“Well that depends, you get any better at breaking.” you screwed up your mouth at the cheap shot he'd just taken. You were a decent pool player but you were awful at getting the game started.

“Fine Morales, looks like you're going first.”

“Thank you.” he said, jokingly tipping his head at you as he put himself in position at the end of the table.

There was a loud crack as Frankie hit the triangle, the balls bouncing off each other in different directions. You winced in disbelief as he managed to pot two balls with just one shot. He flashed his eyebrows at you, showing off. “You know I think that was one of each.” you taunted him, bringing him back to earth. “You can only chose one, what's it gonna be?”

“Just because I know how much you love playing stripes...” he said leaving the sentence open with a shrug before moving himself around the table to pot one of the solid coloured balls. For a moment, both of you watched eagerly expecting it to go in, but it leaned to the right at the last second and bounced back, away from the hole.

You took a quick sip of your beer before placing it back on the side. “Ready to see how it's done.” you teased, dancing around the table sizing up your first shot. You started out with an easy shot, potting it with not much trouble. Frankie gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before you began circling the table again, working out your next move. You saw it near the corner. You lined up your shot and... clunk, you sank another ball into the hole.

You stood back from the table grinning as you looked over to him, ready to taunt. “That's two.” you said, a faint giggle at the end of the sentence. You danced around the table again looking for the next one. You decided to try your luck but ultimately missed.

“Hey, you can’t get them all in one go.” he said, pushing himself off the wall where he had been leaning. He handed you his beer to hold as he took his go. He fumbled his shot and you were soon handing his drink back to him to take your next go.

It had ended up being a quick game. You had won, easily potting ball after ball, much to Frankie's amazement. “Okay, you had to have been cheating. I want a rematch.” Frankie said, playfully challenging you.

“I mean, I am more than happy to give you one... then beat your ass again and then again and again.” you laughed.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just rack 'em up again. I gotta go to the restroom.” he said backing away towards the door to the toilets.

When Frankie came back from the toilet he carried himself differently. He seemed both a little bit shinier but also spacey. It was a look you had recognised in people around you many times and had even, on occasion, experienced yourself. You had experimented with drugs a few times over the years, sometimes to keep your cover when trying to get intelligence out of a contact, other times just because it was a night out and you wanted to let your hair down. You never made a habit of it though. You never would have pegged Frankie of making a habit of it either, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to you, as you thought back on his behaviour at the start of the night, that it was.

“Hey, you ready?” he said as he picked his pool cue back up, snapping you away from your internal monologue. 'He's a grown man, he knows what he's doing' you berated yourself, shrugging off his actions. “You wanna break this time?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

You pulled a face of discomfort. “Uhh.”

“Come on, I'll help you. You'll never get better if you don't practice.”

“Fine.” you said rolling your eyes, your footsteps falling heavier, stomping, mocking a stroppy teenager. He laughed.

“Come here.” He said ushering you to the table and taking a stance behind you. “You're problem is you doubt yourself and then get shaky on your follow through.” He said as you leant forward and lined your cue up with the ball. He leaned over with you, one hand on your left arm, helping hold it steady, the other finding a home over your hand on the cue.

He helped guide it back and you relaxed into his touch as you let him manipulate the shot. It was a gentle, yet forceful, nudge of the cue that sent the white ball careening quickly towards the waiting triangle of balls at the other end of the table. You turned back to him, smiling in triumph at the clack of balls as they scattered across the table. That's when you realised how close the two of you were. You couldn't help but look directly into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, somehow they were both bright and glassy at the same time.

You weren't sure why you were doing it, but you found your fingers reaching for the front pocket of his jeans, hooking just the tips of them in slightly, nudging the bag of blow. His eyes grew panicked as you began to pull the small baggy from his pocket, curling it into your fingers. You bit your lower lip, trying to search his eyes for how he was going to react, if he was going to react. He didn't move. A part of you thought about just getting rid of it, just tossing it out, but you were having a good time with Frankie, he was having a good time with you. You felt safe and it had been so long since you'd had a good night out you thought 'fuck it'.

Neither of you said anything as you began to creep away, bag still firmly scrunched into your fingers. Frankie tried to act casual, attempting to go back to focusing on the game as you snuck off to the toilet. He assumed you had gone to get rid of the coke, he never imagined you'd have some yourself.

You rushed into one of the stalls, quickly assessing how best to go about this. You decided that none of the surfaces were sanitary enough to do this properly. You sighed, half excited, half still berating yourself for stooping to this, as you took a seat on top of the toilet lid. You tucked your hair out of the way before opening up the baggy and tapping only a small amount of the white powder onto the back of your hand. You listened a second, making sure there was no one else in the bathroom with you. Silence. You quickly lifted the back of your hand to your nose, closing off one of the nasal passages and then sucking in all of the powder, with your intake of air, with the other.

You'd forgotten how awful it felt in that first moment, your nose burning. You coughed and continued sniffing as you attempted to clear the passage, waiting for the initial pain and discomfort to subside. It only took a moment for the rush of euphoria to set in. You resealed the bag, then wiped off any remaining remnants on your hands, before tucking the baggy back into your clutched fingers, hiding it, as you left the stall. You quickly checked yourself over in the mirror, self consciously wiping underneath your nose, then fixing any stray hairs.

As you went back out into the bar, the effects of the drug really started to settle in. Everything seemed shinier and brighter, happier. You made your way back over to Frankie who was stood leaning against his pool cue, awaiting your return.

He stared at you intensely, trying to work out what it was that you had done with the drugs. It was only when you came to a stop directly in front of him and he got a look at your eyes did he realised what you'd truly done. He found himself breaking out into a small smile of adoration, impressed by your courageousness, but it carried with it this underlining guilt in the pit of his stomach. That feeling of guilt though was quickly quashed altogether by another feeling as you pressed yourself close to him once again so you could discreetly put the little bag back in his pocket. You gave him a sly smile and that was it. That was the moment Frankie knew he was completely in love with you. You gave him a coy grin before reaching for your pool cue and continuing the game.

Watching the coloured balls dance across the table top when you hit them, felt so much more satisfying now. You didn't even care if you were losing as long as you got to keep watching the balls of colour roll back and forth across the table. You enjoyed your beer and your company, you and Frankie nudging each other and taking any chance possible to touch one another now you were both happy and relaxed. “Come on Morales.” you said as you placed your hands over his shoulders, giving them an over exaggerated massage like he was about to go into a fight. He tried to shrug you off so he could concentrate and sink his last ball. You stopped your movements but didn't take your hands away and both of you froze watching the ball intently as he took the shot. Clunk.

He stood up straight and whirled around, wrapping you in his arms, a big grin on his face. “You know I let you win right?” you teased him.

“Sure you did.” he said placing a kiss on top of your head before leaning back slightly so he could get a better look at your smile, his arm still firmly around your shoulder. He leaned back against the table, his legs spread apart slightly so you could rest between them. You were both smiling content in the embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away.

Frankie moved his hands to rest against your hips as he began to wrestle with the idea that had just popped into his head. He looked longingly to your lips, wanting to kiss them. Your smile faded as you scanned his face, realising what he was thinking. It was probably only 3 or 4 seconds but it felt so much longer due to the pace at which your next thoughts flooded your head. 'Oh my gosh, are we gonna kiss? What about Laura? Maybe they broke up? Oh I really want to kiss him.' then his lips were on yours and it was like someone had just set off a bunch of fireworks in your brain. Your head felt like it was fizzing and tingling, you couldn't help but smile as you melted into the kiss.

Frankie felt your lips pull tight against his as your smile burst from your lips and it only encouraged his own. He pulled away only briefly so you could both acknowledge how happy you were right then in that moment, but you quickly closed the gap again, practically throwing yourself into him, desperate to feel that tingling feeling in your brain again. At your enthusiasm, Frankie wasted no time deepening the kiss, his hands snaking down to your ass and pulling you tighter to him. This was everything he ever wanted, what he'd dreamed about for years now and it was finally happening. It felt better than he could have ever imagined it to be. Your kisses were powerful and hungry and for a moment you both almost forgot where you were.

Frankie quickly broke the kiss. You were about to protest when he took hold of your hand and started leading you to the door.

Neither of you said anything as he lead you to his truck. He gave you one more quick passionate kiss before opening the passenger side door to you and encouraging you to get in. You happily hopped in before turning back to give him another kiss as he closed the door.

He drove you both back to your place, using his spare key to let you both into the apartment. You had given each of the boys a spare key to your place just in case of emergencies but this was the first time you'd ever seen Frankie use his and it made you happy. The image of it felt so natural to you, like you were both coming home together after a long day.

You didn't have time to revel in the domesticity of it though as Frankie pulled you inside, rapidly closing the door before latching his lips back onto yours. You felt him lift you up into his arms and he carried you to your bedroom.

Your feet dropped back to the floor as you both made it through the doorway, Frankie wasting no time to start undressing you and himself between hungry kisses, both of your tongues fighting to pull each other back together after every break.

When you were both completely naked Frankie wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, lifting you slightly, walking you both towards the bed which you collapsed onto together, Frankie coming to lay on top of you. You reached your hands up into his hair as he covered your naked body with his own. It was only in that moment that you fully realised he hadn't been wearing his trademark hat this evening. You made a mental note of the actions significance and happily kept smiling and giggling into his kisses.

A sudden feeling took over in the pit of your stomach as you watched Frankie's gaze darken, his lust for you taking over at your joyful sounds and the way your naked body moved underneath him. You felt his hands move to your hips and he suddenly flipped you over onto your stomach before guiding your hips up so you were resting on your knees, your ass and pussy on full display for him. “Oh god.” Frankie groaned at the sight. “Hold it there baby, there's something I wanna do.”

You felt him get off the bed and heard him shuffle around on the floor for something. It took you a moment for your brain to realise what he was doing. He was rooting back into his pocket for the cocaine. You thought about saying something but decided not to for fear it would ruin the moment and this would all stop. This was Frankie. You had wanted this for so long and you were willing to put up with anything just to have his love and attention all to yourself.

You felt his hand smooth over your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, giving it a squeeze before he let go. You shifted your head slightly so you could look back and watch him as he opened the little baggy and began gently patting the powder out of it, leaving a line of it across your right cheek. The dark look in his eyes as he stared at the sight made your knees want to go weak. He could sense the slight tremble within you, “Hold still for me baby.” he said as he took hold of you again, his hands firmly placed either side of your ass, holding you still. You closed your eyes, thinking if you didn't see what was about to happen, maybe you could act like it never did.

It all happened so quickly you didn't even have time to really take it in. Frankie quickly leant down, taking the powder up his nose, his tongue coming out to lick up any remaining powder before he thrust his face between your folds. You let out a startled squeal of pleasure as you felt Frankie's tongue dive straight in, catching you completely off guard. His patchy facial hair tickled your skin and you jerked back further towards his face, Frankie moaning in pleasure at the feeling.

He quickly pulled his mouth away, thrusting two fingers inside you instead, stretching you out and making sure you were ready. His fingers took a moment to explore your heat and you moaned as this thick fingers stroked your inner walls. You let out a groan when he took his fingers out and you were about to lift your head to turn and whine pathetically about it when he suddenly thrust his cock inside you.

“Oh fuck.” you cried out as you attempted to adjust to his size. He leant over you, his arm wrapping around your upper chest, pulling you to your hands. His head nuzzled into your neck, trying to get you to turn your head so he could kiss you. As you began to turn it towards him, his hand that had been holding your chest moved up to grasp your jaw, forcing your lips to his. He felt you clench around him as you reacted to the power move and he gently rolled his hips into you, your back arching, trying to encourage him even deeper.

He began pounding into you rapidly as he straightened himself up again. His grip on your hips was firm, holding you steady, pulling you back into him with every thrust. The feeling was overwhelming and the lingering effects of the cocaine only heightened everything more. “Oh my god baby, you feel so fucking good.” he praised you as your moans of pleasure rang out through the room.

You felt him lean forward again and you turned your head, seeking out his lips once more. “I've wanted this for so fucking long.” he grunted out between kisses. He almost melted when you moaned back into his lips in response to his words. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your back into his chest again, making his rapid thrusts even deeper. He was hitting a certain spot inside you and it was devastating, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head as you relaxed it against his shoulder.

A feeling began to rise inside you. It felt so overwhelming and rapid you weren't even sure what was happening until it had already happened. Frankie felt your walls pushing back against him and when he thrust back he was forced out of you completely, your release gushing all over his cock and the bed. “Jesus fucking Christ did you just-” he couldn't even say the word. He was so fucking happy and impressed, but he saw the look of surprise on your face. He quickly crashed his lips into yours as he tried to reassure you that what had happened was a good thing. No a great thing. “Fucking do it again for me baby.” he said as he lined himself back up with your entrance and thrusted himself inside you once more.

You couldn't help but cry out, your mouth falling open against his. You felt so sensitive between your legs it didn't take much time at all before Frankie had you squirting again. “That's it, that's my girl. You're so fucking beautiful when you do that baby.” he said as he turned you around to face him. He could tell your eyes were unfocussed, completely blissed out from each devastating orgasm he was pulling from you.

He placed his hands either side of your head, smoothing your hair out of your face as he kissed it. He sat himself back on the bed, trying to avoid the wet patch on the sheets, pulling you to sit on top of him. He held you close as he pulled you back down onto his erection and you relaxed your head against his shoulder as he continued to smooth your hair. He began rocking you gently on top of him, letting you have a small break, both of you enjoying the moment of being close.

When you felt your strength coming back to you, you lifted your head from his shoulder, fixing your lips to his again. He lifted you in his arms, laying you back on the bed. He lifted your legs back, allowing him to push himself deeper inside you as his thrust began to pick up again.

You placed your hands either side of his head, forcing your eyes to focus on one another. “Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.” he said, his forehead pressing into yours. You're mouth hung open again, your breaths coming out fast inbetween his thrusts, your moans stuttering wordlessly from your lips. He could tell your eyes were starting to become unfocussed again as your next orgasm built inside you.

He placed his hands under your hips, lifting them slightly allowing his thrusts to reach deeper still. The feeling inside you was devastating and your hand reached to rub circles over your clit, encouraging your release to come even faster. Once again Frankie felt himself being forced out from inside you as you once again gushed all over him and the bed, only this time he had a much better view. He was getting so close to his own climax and this only spurred him on even more. He barely gave you a moment to recover before he was thrusting himself back deep inside you.

His thrust were rapid as he chased his own finish and your fingers clawed at his back as you tried to ground yourself. Frankie let out a deep growl as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. His thrusts became sporadic, stuttering as he lifted his head to capture your lips in his own as he finished inside you. He stilled inside you and you relaxed into his arms as you felt every pulse of his cock inside you. It was a feeling that made you feel proud.

You looked up into his eyes. They were ones of complete bliss and adoration. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words caught in your mouth so you settled for kissing him once more. This time the kiss was tender and not just because you were both exhausted. It said everything you both didn't feel like you could say. A silent acknowledgment of love.

------------------

“Hey where are you going?” you asked him as he climbed from the bed an hour later and began pulling on his clothes.

“I gotta go.” he said as he shrugged on his t-shirt, unable to meet your eyes,

“Oh, okay.” you said, sitting up and curling your knees up to your chest. You watched him silently as your racing thoughts from the bar slowly started coming back to you. They were more prominent now in this post sex quiet. “Frankie.” your voice said tentatively. It was half broken as the reality of the situation set in and an ache began to form in your chest, along with a churning feeling in your stomach. He looked back at you, eyes sorrowful.

Frankie felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He could see the hurt behind your eyes and it killed him. He knew his love for you was so great and he hated that he was hurting you in this moment. He made his way across the room to you, his arms leaning on the bed either side of you as he leant down to kiss you. “I'm gonna make this right, I promise.” he said as you dipped your head away from him. He gave you a tender kiss on your fore head. “I'll text you in the morning.” he said before placing a hand under your chin, encouraging you to lift your head once more so he could give you a final kiss goodbye. You could only watch silently and helplessly from your bed as he turned and walked away. You practically flinched as you heard the front door close behind him, the sound echoing around your quiet apartment, the reality of your actions setting in. What the fuck had you done.

---------------------

True to his word, Frankie had indeed messaged you the following morning. There was no mention of Laura just an 'I really want to see you. Can I come over later.' You had of course said yes and you had both had a repeat of the night before, just this time with pizza and TV. You had wanted him to stay, but you also understood why he couldn't. He promised you he would soon though.

You had both carried on that way, the days turning into weeks. Wild nights turning into wild afternoons, always with the promise that at some point Frankie would break up with Laura and you would be together properly soon.

One week turned into two months and with every passing day your feelings for Frankie were growing stronger and stronger. You didn't care if he hadn't left Laura yet. You didn't care about the drugs, mostly because you could see he was using less and less when he was around you. You could see he was getting better. He was happier and shinier and you knew when he was ready he would end things with her and move in with you.

It was a Saturday evening when he turned up on your doorstep drunk and high and unable to get his key into the lock to let himself in. When you finally opened the door to him there were tears in his eyes. “Frankie?” his name fell from your lips as a question as he stumbled through the door. He made a beeline for your kitchen, searching the cupboards for more alcohol to drink.

You rushed over to him as you saw him pull a half full bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He didn't even bother to get himself a glass, just started sipping it straight from the bottle. “Frankie, what the fuck is going on?” you asked as you snatched the bottle from his grasp.

“She's pregnant.” he choked out. Your face dropped, complete shock taking over.

“What?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Laura, she's pregnant.” he said again. His gaze wouldn't lift from a spot on the floor. There was silence between you as you both let the information settle in.

“What are you going to do?” you asked him tentatively.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you.” he said again, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

“No-”

“I don't want to be with her-”

“Frankie she's carrying your kid.”

“I don't want to be with her, I want to be with you.” he said again stepping towards you, his hands outstretched reaching for you. You remained frozen to the spot as his hands rested either side of your face. “I love you. I don't love her, I want to be with you.”

“How long have you know?” you asked him, your voice cold. He was silent. “How long have you known?” you asked him again, your voice rising, becoming desperate.

“About a week.” he finally admitted. You stepped backwards, away from his touch, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Please baby, please-” he began to beg, trying to step forward and close the distance between you again but you kept stepping away, shaking your head in disbelief. “Please, you make me better. I'm better when I'm with you.” You turned away from him, leaving the room in an attempt to get away, panic rising up inside you.

“I'll tell her everything, I'll get help, I promise just please-”

“FRANKIE STOP!” you shouted, rounding on him. He finally fell silent, allowing you a moment to breathe, to think. “I can't do this anymore.” your voice said broken. “If you really loved me, if you were actually going to leave her you would have done it weeks ago when you said you would. If you didn't want to be with her, why were you still sleeping with her, why did you get her pregnant-”

“I don't even remember it.” his voice came back broken and his knees gave way, his back leaning against the open kitchen door. He was sobbing now.

“Frankie, you need help.” you said to him tenderly as you made your way towards him. You sat on the floor beside him, your head leaning on his shoulder. His head slumped against yours in defeat.

“How did I fuck this up so bad?” he asked you. You didn't answer. You didn't need to. “I wish I had a time machine, like that car in that movie, back to the future,,, or that hot tub in that stupid movie Benny made me watch.” he started, his voice calming. “I wish I could go back to when I first met you and tell you how I felt about you. I wish I had told you I loved you the moment I saw you. I wish I'd never let Will or Santiago have the chance to fuck you before I did. Maybe then you would be the one carrying my child right now and not her.”

You let his words hang in the air. You wished more than anything that things could be different right now but they weren't. Frankie had a drug addiction. He had cheated on his girlfriend with you. He had promised you he would leave her but he didn't. Instead he had gotten her pregnant. You had been willing to over look so much for Frankie but for your own sake you couldn't do it anymore. There was a child involved now and there was no way you were gonna hang around and make this situation more difficult for everyone. “I'm gonna go to Italy.” you told him. He looked at you lost.

You had gotten the call that morning. You had been wondering all day whether or not you should take the job but now you saw it as the only option you had. You both needed space. Frankie needed to be there for Laura, for his kid and you couldn't be here as a temptation for him. “My supervisor called this morning about a job in Italy. I think I'm gonna go. I think we both just need some space away from each other to clear our heads.”

“How long?”

“I don't know. Could be a couple of months, could be longer.”

“I love you.” he said again after a moments silence, hoping it would change your mind, hoping it would make you stay.

“Promise me you'll get help Frankie.” was all you said. You were on the next flight to Italy the following morning.

                                    ------------------------------------------

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @peterhollandkait @a-bang-for-your-bucky @asta-lily @codenamewife @lazyunknownwerewolf @emmy626 @natura1phenomenon @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @fangirl-316 @thisisthewaytofiction @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @aficwhore @slayerx147 @alberta-sunrise @itspdameronthings @nano-pax @bunnypascal @niki-xie @eowynshairflip @mamacitapascal​ @dobbyjen​ @t3rradactyl

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #what benny doesn’t know #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller

[itstimetotheorize]

The bizarre mystery of the Little Nightmares 2  episode 2 comic

For those of you who are unaware, a few weeks before the little nightmares 2 game was released, the developers had announced that they would be releasing a new 6 part digital comic series. From what we were told, this comic series would update two “episodes”  every two weeks until the games eventual release.

of the many episodes that were seen, the most popular of the six  were the first and last, episode 1 and 6. Naturally, these two episodes gained an enormous amount of popularity due to our main protagonists mono and six being the main focus. However, aside from these two episodes, the other four presented an entirely different character. The four kids seen in these episodes were, the spoon girl, lollipop kid, ghost child and The toddler. 

At first, many fans had assumed the digital comics were created in order to help explain events that had occurred before mono met six in the little nightmares 2 game, in other words, many of us had believed that these comics were classified as prequel material for the events of the game....or at least....that's what we thought....

A few months after the games release, theorist such as myself began to work day and night trying to figure out every little detail  within the game in order to make sense of what the heck was actually going on in the little nightmares world, especially after “that” ending. In the midst of writing my own theories as well as reading and analyzing everyone elses, I began to notice that not many people had gone back to the little nightmares 2 digital comics in order to try and analyze details we might have missed.

Now, out of all of the things we saw and analyzed within the digital comics, there was always two little details that made many of us question the events of the comics, but for the longest time we never really bothered to think about it to much, because at that time...it seemed as though the answer was obvious, what am I talking about exactly? well, I’m talking about something that happened in the little nightmares 2 episode 2 comic. 

In episode 2, we once again watch another new child called “the toddler”  trying to survive within the little nightmares world. Near the end of the episode, the toddler wakes up from a horrific dream where he is killed in the very hole he is resting in. Frightened, he takes no chances and immediately leaves. As the boy marches on, he suddenly hears the terrifying screams of another child nearby. 

Curious, the boy follows the direction of the scream and comes across an old outhouse with a tv next to it, the tv suddenly turns on and the boy immediately becomes entranced by the televisions light.  Sadly, as he continues to stare at the tv, the thin man reaches out from the other side and all that is heard of the child are his frightened screams. 

As the panel draws away from the tv its revealed to us that the thin man had kidnaped the toddler and dragged him into the television.

When first seeing this episode, many believed it was the developers way of telling us that the thin man had spent much of his time kidnapping various kids around the world. Because of this belief, many of us had theorized that despite being locked up in the tower, within the pale city, the thin man was still fully capable of leaving, after all, we theorized that its was his main goal to search for mono and six. HOWEVER, upon reading episode 2, I couldn't help but feel that something was off and I’m sure there were a few others who felt the same. What exactly felt so off about this episode? well, for starters, this may sound strange but...something about that scream the toddler heard in the forest... didn't make sense.

And I know what you are thinking, “ well that was obviously just a kid screaming in horror as he/she was being taken by the thin man”, yes, I understand that.... but......as  I heard that scream over and over again, I couldn't help but feel it sounded like it was almost....”non human”

when the toddler was kidnapped by the thin man and he lets out his own screams of terror, I, as well as other, did not question it, because it genuinely did sound like a child screaming out in horror....so then... why didn't the other scream sound just the same to us?....unless....what if there was something else going on with that other child?...but what? the comics were short and did not present much information to the audience. In hopes of coming up with a breakthrough I decided to once again go back to the little nightmares 2 game and wait to see if some of the events within the game would help.

 As I watched the tower chapter of the game, for what feels like an infinite amount of times, I began to realize something....something so horrific that it could possibly once again topple every theory I had about the little nightmare's world and lead me and many other back to the theory board in order to make sense of EVERYTHING all over again!.... what exactly was so shocking? well.....the screams heard by the toddler in chapter 2....the very screams we believed at the time were just the cries of another terrified child within the little nightmares world....were NEVER the screams of someone we didn’t know!....whos were they exactly?...well.... they were the screams of MONSTER SIX!!!

But what on earth could this possibly mean???!!! Monster six was the final fight within the game, when mono faced her, he had already killed the thin man after being relentlessly chased by him....but if this is true then why was the thin man shown to be alive within episode two of the comics?!....unless.... What if episode two didn't take place before the events of the game...what if...it took place after mono freed the thin man in the game!! 

Perhaps this could explain why the toddler never encountered the hunter in the forest or near the outhouse, the hunter could very well have been already shot by the time the toddler was traveling through!.....but even if this is true, it still doesn't explain why we heard monster sixes scream in the episode or why thin man made an appearance in the forest rather than stay in the pale city were mono was located ...unless... what if something else was going on?

In the game, after the thin man captures six, six is later seen crying out for mono to help her escape the television.

unfortunately, once mono does free her from the tv, the thin man reaches his hand out and kidnaps six once again!

 As many of you may already know... this is the last time we see normal six.  As the thin man once again begins to pursue mono, mono manages to outrun the thin man on the trains by separating the railcars, 

after this moment however, we don't see the thin man again until after mono exits the manhole cover. The thing that doesn't make sense about this whole situation is... why didn't the thin man just reappear in the same area mono crashed the train?

 The thin man clearly has the ability to teleport to different parts of the pale city without the need of the tvs, after all, we even saw him appear in front of mono after he exited the manhole cover near the end of the game.

 So then, why didn't he do the same thing back when mono crashed the train? what was he really doing in that time? and most importantly...where did he go?!...perhaps we were already given an answer to his whereabouts, long before the game was ever released...

What if after realizing he couldn't catch up to mono on the train, the thin man made the decision to search elsewhere. In the midst of his search, did the thin man decide to go back into the television? expecting mono to walk past another screen so he could better find him? just like how he did every other time in the game?

What if the thin man did sense the presence of a child coming near another television...if he did, then what if the child he found on the other end of that television screen.... was never mono...it was the toddler! 

But if this is what happened to thin man during his brief absence, then what exactly happened to six during all of this?....perhaps we were also given an answer to that  as well.

Many of us had theorized that after thin man captured six, six had begun to feel the effects of the towers hypnotic  transmission as she was dragged through the television screen. After she was taken by thin man a second time and thrown back into the towers hypnotic light, the tower could have very well begun the process of turning her into monster six! and judging by how twisted her limbs are near the end of the game, its possible that the process of being distorted caused six to scream out in horrible pain! in the midst of her transformation, her screams could have echoed throughout the tower (just like her music box did ) and was heard by all those that were near a television, including the toddler!

Mono may not have heard her painful screams because he was already to far away from any tv at the time. The only thing he did find of six, after she became lost in the towers transmission during her time in the tower, was the one piece of her that was still desperately trying to cling onto the cruel reality it was fading from, shadow six!

Regardless of what is actually going on, this does beg the question, if episode 2 of the little nightmares 2 digital comics were to really take place in the middle of monos confrontation with the thin man and not before the events of the game, then what about the rest of the episodes of the comics? do they really all take place before the events of the game or is the timeline of the comics just as scattered as our speculations towards how the loop of the game and the little nightmares world is occurring?...honestly....whos to say....until we get some more information towards the lore of this world, everything’s still just a theory, a little nightmares 2 theory!

#litte nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares mono #little nightmares 2 mono #Little Nightmares II #little nightmares six #little nightmares 2 six #ln six #ln mono #little nightmares 2 the thin man #little nightmares 2 the tower #little nightmares II six #little nightmares II mono #little nightmares 2 the signal tower #little nightmares the thin man #ln2 the thin man #little nightmares 2 the pale city #little nightmares theory #little nightmares 2 theory #little nightmares 2 theories #little nightmares II theory #little nightmares II theories #little nightmares theories #ln 2 mono #tarsier studios #mono #shadow six #little nightmares 2 shadow six #mono and six #ln2 theory

[dontloseyourpants]

Stripped on Stage

A commission I received from @gaystripstories! You can also find him on Twitter here. And you can support him by buying his stories on Amazon here.

I'll out the actual story below the cut. It's about a cocky young Broadway bound hunk who has an embarrassing incident on stage during his big debut. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Before the Show: 

Hey, just wanted to stop by and wish everyone a great show! 

A sea of blank faces stared up at him, but he kept plodding on to get the reaction that he  desired. Walking further into the crowded dressing room, he finally stopped right behind me. 

I miss the camaraderie of being packed down here with everyone… it’s so lonely having  that dressing room upstairs all to myself. I usually just spend time before shows lying on my  couch until first call. 

Looking up, I saw his face forcing itself into what he thought was a genuine smile. For  someone who was apparently a much better actor than our poor little show deserved, he really  had such a hard time hiding his true emotions. 

Roger Stilton had quickly made a name for himself on Broadway. A Julliard grad just  like his rich father, he headed straight to Broadway and began booking any role he wanted. With  leading man good looks, his slicked back dark hair, and a jawline that could cut steel, Roger  actually could have earned his roles without daddy’s donations. 

As I continued looking up at him, I realized two things. First, his blush was much too  heavy for a theater as small as this one. 

Roger, sit down- let me help you out a bit. Quickly standing up in my boxers and  undershirt, I let him plop into my chair before wiping a makeup wipe across that beautiful face.  Here’s a tip when you’re not sure how strong to make your blush- you have to see what it should  be naturally and then add two swipes. 

Quickly taking hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, I ripped it over his head to expose that  chest to the whole room. His perky pecs and six pack abs were to die over, but for some reason,  even with all of that narcissism, he didn’t like showing off his body. 

See- that’s the color you want. 

I saw his eyes connect with his reflection to see the blush covering his cheeks, and I  added a bit of my powder onto his face to match. Grabbing his shirt, he just awkwardly held it in  front of him before walking back out of the room with his parting words flung over his shoulder. 

Well, let me let you get back to getting ready… I just love having a great ensemble behind  me on stage. 

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. At least not for another week. He’d joined our show  after workshops, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, he was the reason we’d gotten our residency at  our off-Broadway theater. He was already booked for his next role in a few weeks in one of the  larger theaters, but if I had anything to do with it, I wanted to put his name in the news for  another reason. It was time to confirm the second thing that I realized once Roger walked in  here. 

Listen up. Every head turned back towards me this time, but unlike Roger, I could tell  that they wanted to hear what I had to say. I had a couple of decades on all of the younger actors 

around me, and they looked up to me since I’d give them actual advice. We’re a go for tonight.  Raise a hand if you’re in. 

Smiling to myself as I saw every hand quickly raise into the air, I knew that this would be  one show that Roger or the critics in the audience would never forget. I don’t know if Roger  knew that we’d picked up on it, but there was a lot of info that he gave away. He was using us as  a launch pad for some serious acting cred, and we were using him just as much. And for weeks  of workshops and performances, we existed together, but the last month had been different. He’d  starters treating us as disposable ensemble members even if the small cast all had named roles.  So, tonight, on the most important night of his run, we decided to get back at him. Looking up at  the timer on the ceiling above us, I realized that it was almost time for our first phase of the plan. 

Act 1: 

Look at him- if he wasn’t such a huge ass, he could really be the next big thing. Sorry- all I heard you say was huge ass, and I got distracted. 

Playfully slapping Sam on the arm, I kept watching Roger act as we waited for our cue.  Our show was a new take on the classic murder mystery, and each night, Roger dramatically died  on stage. The twist, the reason that we’d made it out of workshops, was that a new killer was  chosen each show. The audience could return night after night and still get a new experience  since we improved a lot and only kept core scenes consistent.  

This was one scene that was always the same, so Roger felt confident enough to ham it up as he looked at the two women in Row 2: The New Yorker and New York Times. They of  course had names, but Roger only knew them as the critics that he needed to impress. And he  truly was acting his ass off… and that was quite a challenge. Those dark gray slacks were barely  

stretched over that ample peach of a bottom, and I was reminded again that I was happy with the  game plan. And as he placed his glass of water back on the table, it was time for round 1.  

Natasha and Joslyn entered from stage left as Sam and I appeared from stage right, and in  a flurry of motion, we began bombarding him with questions.  

Sir, would you like the dinner menu? 

Please. 

Sir, would you like a wine list? 

That’d be delightful. 

Sir, would you like your water glass to be topped off? 

Certainly. 

Bending down, I poured the contents of my pitcher into his glass and across his chest. Oh monsieur, I am so sorry- let’s get you out of those wet clothes immediately. 

Patting him down with the hand towel, Sam walked behind him and began unbuttoning  Roger’s shirt. In utter shock, Roger just sat there staring at the pitcher that I’d laid down in front  of him- the one that looked completely normal. In every other show, a special prop had been  used that only held half a cup of water, but tonight, it looked like I’d grabbed the wrong pitcher  from the props table accidentally.  

There we go- we’ll have this dried and steamed before you even get the dessert menu…  not that it looks like you eat dessert often.  

He tried to cover his exposed chest as we left stage, but the tiny menu couldn’t cover  much. If he pulled it down, he exposed his perky pecs with his dark brown nipples shining under  the harsh lights, and if he pulled it up, you could see the happy trail disappearing into his pants.  As we all stood offstage in one giggling group, we watched the switch flip over in his head. He 

had just made the choice- he could either be embarrassed about being half naked on stage, or he  could continue acting so that the critics would write about how he powered through adverse  conditions. And he chose the second option… at least for now.

Act 2: 

After improving some line about remembering that he had a spare suit in his car, he  quickly walked off stage with his muscular back facing the audience. Once he disappeared into  the curtain, he began quietly yelling for the prop master, but he was nowhere to be found. Also  gone was the random rack of clothes that had been hiding in the wings for decades, so as he  rushed around, Roger only had time to grab someone’s suit coat and walk back on stage. 

Darling! Is it my birthday already? I thought I wouldn’t get my present until tomorrow. 

With her quick change successfully completed unlike her costar, Natasha was in a skin  tight dress and now playing Roger’s girlfriend. Walking circles around him, she began to  massage his tense body, and it seemed to be having an undesired effect on his lower half.  

Can I unwrap my present early?  

I’m so sorry love, but the weirdest thing happened at dinner earlier. I had time to grab a  spot of food before coming here, and then…  

As he began to sit down, the small blazer completely ripped down the middle, and the  ruined fabric fell in two pieces down each arm. Natasha was really hamming it up now as she  jumped up from the prop bed to kneel in front of her blushing boyfriend.  

I was joking before, but what else is about to come off? Did you somehow trade outfits  with a stripper? 

That time in the gym must have really filled out my shoulders.  

Then flex for me, Romeo. Let me see that body that’s all mine.  

Doing as told, Roger stood up and began to flex his muscles as he faced the audience. His  tanned chest seemed to glow under the lights, and I heard the audience getting into it more now.  If there were any repeat customers here, then they knew what normally happened here. Natasha  would have her birthday party, and in the commotion, Roger would meet his demise. But that  always happened fully clothed. 

Roger’s biceps were glistening in sweat, and his trimmed chest hair was as well. He was  breathtakingly gorgeous, and if only he wasn’t so cocky, we would have all adored him. As I saw  that blush spread further across those beautiful cheekbones, I wondered if there was something  more human under there. Just maybe… 

Oh, I just can’t resist anymore- come ravish me!  

With strength that I didn’t know she had, Natasha pulled Roger towards her as they fell  into the throes of passion on top of that bed. The audience was losing it as Natasha’s legs  comically kicked into the air before wrapping around Roger’s ample ass. She was kissing him all  over as Roger tried to break free for his cue. 

Oh honey, that special suit jacket wasn’t the only birthday surprise that I had planned. In  fact…

And this is where everything went so, so right. Roger lunged into a standing position  without even feeling Natasha’s fingers hook into the two small holes that had come undone on  each side of his tearaway pants. I don’t know how he hadn’t noticed earlier that we’d swapped them out before the show, but they’d stayed together right until they were needed.  

In comical slow motion, the back half of his pants fell to the floor as the front stayed  gripped in her hands.  

You got me exactly what I wanted! 

As Natasha jumped to meet him, we all started streaming on stage, holding balloons and  shooting party streamers into the air. The only one that was still was Roger who was somehow so  very, very visible in the middle of all of this chaos. With his pants gone, he was now standing  there in only his shoes, his nylon socks held up with leather garters on those strong calves, and  an impossibly tiny pair of baby blue bikini briefs that were trying their hardest to stretch over his  large frame.  

We all took a cue from the audience and focused on Roger as he stood petrified on stage.  His hands hung limply at his side, too embarrassed to even move them to cover up his impressive  bulge and thick pubes that were showing over the stretched waistband. You could have heard a  pin drop in the eerie quiet before one camera flash went off from the audience followed by  several more. I saw our one underpaid usher try to stop the cameras, but it was too late.  

Finally urged into action as he saw how many photos of him would soon end up online,  Roger finally spun around to try to find his pants, his jacket- just anything to cover himself up  with. Seeing the bed sheet that had been flung into the floor, he reached to grab it, but I was too  quick and stepped onto it to keep him from getting it.  

Standing back up, he had rage in his eyes as he looked at me, and he had no idea that  even more photos were taken now of him. From the back, his tiny briefs had been wedged  between those glorious cheeks, and he was exposing almost every inch of skin that he could.  

It was you- you’re the one that did it! 

He was about five minutes early with that line, but Roger’s embarrassment had finally  taken over his need to impress the critics. That was usually what he said when he discovered who  the killer was right before falling to the ground, but now, he was saying it to me even though  Joslyn was the one who’d dropped the ‘poison’ into his pasta in the previous scene.  

What are you talking about? It’s me- your best friend! 

A best friend wouldn’t do this on the most important night of their life! 

Reaching forward, he grabbed onto my shirt and yanked it apart. Buttons went flying as  my own chest was exposed to the crowd. My mouth was trying to hard not to break into a smirk  behind my trimmed salt and pepper beard as I backed away from Roger. Following me back  under the lights, he just kept going. 

You’ve always been jealous of me- my career, my body, everything! Do you know how  hard I’ve fought for this? Do you?  

He truly believed the words that he was saying even though he’d never had to go to an  open casting call in a crowded building downtown. He’d never had to squeeze into a borrowed  pair of LaDucas and dance for hours just to be told that they’d gone in a different direction. Oh  no, Roger had never felt rejection like that which is what would make what happened next even  sweeter.  

He lunged at me, and we fell in a heap on the floor. The audience, even the return  viewers, probably had no idea that anything had gone wrong. Everything we’d done had been in  character, and only one thing would be able to prove to them that this show had gone off the  rails.  

Roger’s body was gyrating around on top of me, but he never landed a punch. He wasn’t  angry enough for that, but he was too flustered to even know what to do. He couldn’t handle this  humiliation, and he was just lashing out. And then, it all stopped. As we tussled, we both heard  the pop and froze. It could have been anything, but we both knew exactly what it was. 

The Final Bow: 

And the award goes to Roger Stilton! 

The cameras all swung towards him as he tried to duck down into his seat. This is not  how he wanted awards season to go. He had just lost the Best Actor award for his starring role in  Thoroughly Modern Millie, and he was about to go to the bar until he heard his name called  again. Looking up at the big screen, he saw the category that he didn’t even know that he was  nominated for- Best Quick Change.  

With the DramaDesk award in hand, the late-night talk show host who had no business  being here walked on stage. I was sitting on the side in the cheap seats, but I could still see  everything. The last time that I’d seen Roger was when I’d been lying shirtless beneath him. I  watched as he sat motionless in his chair, and he only got up once the screen started playing a  video from that night.  

He was kneeling on top of me, and as we wrestled, the tiny strap on the right side of his bikini briefs popped right off. With his ass aimed right towards the camera, his pendulous cock  fell into view between his legs, and he tried to cover himself unsuccessfully with his hands. As  he moved, the rest of his underwear fell apart and landed on my chest leaving him completely  

naked.  

Standing up, he kept spinning around, turning one way and then the other to hide his  embarrassment. His hands were clasped over his manhood which left that ass completely  exposed. His tight waist made his bubble butt even more impressive, and the untanned skin acted  as a beacon for everyone’s eyes and cameras. I’d watched this scene dozens of times from the  comfort of my own apartment, but as Roger walked on stage to confront the host, I realized that  he probably had tried to forget this ever happened.  

When Audra Macdonald won earlier, she serenaded us with a few bars. Roger, what do  you plan on showing off to this crowd? 

The crowd was going wild, but unlike that fateful night, the crowd was over five times  bigger and full of people that Roger wanted to impress. He tried to put on a fake laugh and grab  the award, but even from this far away, I could see how strong that blush was as the host kept  going.  

No seriously, I think we need you to show it off! What does everyone here think?  

I let my cheer join the crowd as we egged him on, but he still wasn’t budging. And then,  the host looked right at me, and I pinched myself to see if this was all a dream.  

Do we need your old costar to come help out? He knows his way around this stage since  he’s performed here a few times. Come on up! 

The spotlight hit me, and now it was my time to feel a little shy. I’d been a background  dancer here in a few awards show opening numbers, but I’d never been up there individually.  Would my big break come decades later than it should have? 

Stepping on stage, I saw Roger’s heart drop, and my nerves suddenly vanished. He let the  host turn him around, and I realized that he was petrified again.  

Make me change my mind, Roger. Why shouldn’t I expose you again for how you treated  us on that show? 

Tommy, please, don’t do it.  

I could have been nice and joked around with him as we walked offstage to pretend like  this was a planned bit. But, he messed up.  

Roger, you didn’t even learn the names of your costars. My name is David- Tommy  worked the sound board.  

And before he could react, I grabbed onto those tuxedo pants and yanked them to the  ground. The button ripped off easily, and they gave me no resistance before sliding down to his  ankles. He’d learned his lesson from earlier and was wearing a pair of black trunks, but I still had  a little bit of humiliation left to give him. I could and should have stopped there, but I didn’t.  Grabbing onto his waistband, I pulled his undies to the floor and stepped back to let him have the  spotlight all to himself like he desperately wanted.  

His half-naked body was projected onto the big screen again but in real time now. His  ample, untanned ass still jutted out from his athletic body, and as he tried to bend down and grab  his pants, it jiggled with every movement.  

Looking down into the audience, I somehow made eye contact with Jan, the critic that  Roger always referred to as The New Yorker sitting not too far from where I’d been seated. As  she began typing onto her phone, I realized that Roger would get that big headline after all.

#story