#I FELT LIKE I WAS IN A FEVER DREAM. WHAT THE FUCK. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN
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. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
#little novels.#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo angst
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Dom Steve Fic Recs
Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices.
Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)
Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude
While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.
Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes
It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving.
It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home.
The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.
(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual
“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk.
He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch.
“Want me to show you how?”
Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3
Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate
It happens like a fever dream.
The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that.
But then, it happens again.
Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.
You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him.
Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.
Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection
“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?”
Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline.
“I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.
Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd
Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.
Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate
“This okay?”
“Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.”
“… you’re crying, Eds.”
Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob.
“No one’s ever done this to me before.”
He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really.
Eddie's never had a Steve before.
Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.
Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning
After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.
You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price.
And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this:
Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.
closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl
“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.”
“You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees.
“There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down.
or
the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.
Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs
Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst
Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps
“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.”
When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”
Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check
“Do you need to go down, baby?”
Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this.
Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.
Edification (sadist steve) by aristal
“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?”
A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know.
Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”
In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow
"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"
Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3
When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.
Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3
Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.
Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore
It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.
* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:
Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute
steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.
Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning
while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.
My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow
In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.
Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive
Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.
#for the baddies that get it#i'm sure i missed some great ones please feel free to add on <3#steddie#steddie fic rec#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#dom steve harrington#sub eddie munson
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it doesn't change anything | steve harrington
synopsis - a baby really does change everything doesn't it? right...?
pairing - steve harrington x reader
warning/s - cursing, mentions of miscarriage, reader being insecure, child birth and i think that's it. feel free to correct me if i'm wrong though.
author's note - thank you all so much for all the likes and reblogs that you have given my story !! i literally did not expect for it to blow up. you guys literally have no idea how thankful i am right now. i really really appreciate it. i love y'all so much !! here's the long awaited pt. 2 to "it changes everything"
part one
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photos are not mine !!
To say Steve was mad would be an understatement. He was so furious at you for keeping your pregnancy from him, he was also furious at you for refusing to go to the doctor to check on your baby, but most importantly, he was furious at himself for being so oblivious. That’s why you were constantly eating, he thought that maybe you were just stress eating. Every pregnancy symptom you showed, he thought that you were just stressed from all of the things happening around you. The thought of you being pregnant didn’t even cross his mind, not even once.
As soon as Steve got home to his apartment, his telephone was bombarded with calls. “Jesus, just fucking wait” he muttered as he made his way to the kitchen. “Hello?”
“STEVE! Come to the hospital as soon as you can, (Y/N) fainted!” Robin frantically explained. For Steve, it felt like deja vu all over again. It felt as if that time you bled on the bathroom floor and not long after, he was greeted with bad news. Once again, he sped through the door, and stepped on the pedal as hard as he could. Even though he was mad at you for keeping something like this from him, he still cared for you seeing as you were carrying his child.
When he got to the hospital, he sprinted towards the front desk wanting to get a response as soon as possible. Again, he fought with the nurse, just like old times. “Relation to the patient?” The nurse asked.
“Husband, I mean ex-husband. I’m the father of the baby she’s carrying” Steve blurted out. The nurse gave him a look of judgment. “I see, she’s in room number 505”
“Husband, I mean ex-husband. I’m the father of the baby she’s carrying” Steve blurted out. The nurse gave him a look of judgment. “I see, she’s in room number 505”
Steve did not waste a second and quickly ran to the elevator. Finally, after what felt like forever, The brunette boy had finally reached the fifth floor where his ex-wife was lying on the bed with an IV connected to her. He also noticed that the kids, Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin were surrounding her.
As soon as he opened the door, Nancy noticed his presence and went to hug him to try and comfort him. “Did they find out why she fainted?” Steve mumbled into Nancy’s neck as they pulled away from the hug.
Before Nancy could even answer, Robin beat her to it. “They said it was cause of stress and fatigue”
Steve glanced at his best friend which was then followed with a nod. He was still in a state of shock. Everything that's happening right now didn’t make sense to him at all, it felt like a fever dream.
“How long have you guys been here?” He asked the three adults in front of him seeing as the teenagers were already sleeping on the couch and on the extra chairs.
“Well after you left, that’s when she fainted. So if you add the time it got you to your house plus the time it took to get you to this hospital. Then that would be how long we were in here” Robin started to blabber. Steve knew that Robin too, was nervous for her best friend.
“It’s fine you guys can go home, I can go look after her” Steve had plastered on a fake smile as his friends all looked at each other in concern. “Are you sure, Steve? I mean we can handle it” Nancy said as Jonathan looked at her then nodded.
“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, the kids need to sleep anyways” The brown-eyed boy laughed humorlessly.
“Okay. You can call us if you need anything. Anything, okay?” Robin stated as Jonathan and Nancy started waking up the sleeping teenagers surrounding them.
They all bid their farewells to Steve as he led them out. As Dustin was heading out the door, he suddenly stopped in front of the adult in front of him. “Hey Steve?”
Steve hummed in reply. “Don’t mess up” Dustin said as he put his hands on the brown-eyed boy’s shoulder. “Gee, thanks for the advice man” He replied as he pressed his lips together.
Dustin gave the boy one last hug as he followed the others. Finally alone in the room with (Y/N), Steve had nothing to do but overthink.
It has been 13 hours since you had fainted and Steve never left your side. The only times he ever did was for bathroom breaks and to get food. However, he never had the appetite to finish them. So they just sat there on the bedside table left untouched.
Steve was pacing the room back and forth, he couldn’t stay still. Just as he was about to call a doctor for the third time, your eyes started to flutter open.
It was bright. That was the first thing you had observed. It took a while before your eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the light bulbs, but when you were fully conscious, you saw Steve’s face in front of you. He had a smile plastered on his face.
“What happened?” You managed to croak out. “Well you fainted last night, and you know, you’re pregnant so we obviously had to bring you to the hospital”
Everything started to finally come back to you. Robin telling Steve that you were pregnant. You and him getting into a fight right after, and the darkness engulfing you later on.
“So you know now, huh?” You laughed without any humor laced into it. “Yes” He replied as you felt him stiffen.
“Why would you keep this from me? This isn’t only your baby, it’s OUR baby”
You stared at him as your face fell. “Well, you didn’t want to stay with me anymore. And I know that if I told you about the baby, you would’ve changed your decision about the divorce”
“Damn right, I would’ve. Being apart from each other won’t be the best for the baby” Steve spat.
“But being with each other won’t be the best for us” You fought back as his eyebrows furrowed in anger. “If Robin didn’t tell me about this, would you have told me at all?” He queried.
You took a deep breath before answering, “Of course I would’ve. You’re the father, Steve.” you held both of his hands. “You have a right to know” you added.
The brown-eyed boy’s face had softened after he was reassured with what you said. He then put a big smile on his face after having a realization.
“So we have a little nugget on the way now, don’t we?” He chuckled.
five months gone
It had been a few months after the incident happened and you were now five months into your pregnancy. Of course, Steve had managed to find a way to convince you to start going to your doctor’s appointments. He had accompanied you to the first ultrasound of your pregnancy, and when he saw the baby’s silhouette on the screen, he couldn’t help but shed a tear.
Today was the day you were supposed to find out what the baby’s gender is. However, even though Steve was practically on his knees begging for the doctor to tell the two of you what the gender was, you wanted it to be a surprise for the both of you. Steve just sighed in defeat knowing that you were stubborn enough to not let yourself lose.
When you got home, Steve stayed with you. He was an amazing co-parent to have with you. Even though you two were divorced, he still showed you that he cared for you. Although, half of you think that it’s only because of the baby you were carrying.
You got too lost in your thoughts to even notice that there was somebody ringing the doorbell. “Hey, (Y/N)! There’s somebody at the door! I would go get it but I can’t because I’m cooking!” Steve yelled from your kitchen.
Pulling away from your thoughts, you got up and went to the door. “Hey sorry for taking long–”
Robin was standing in front of you with your favorite foods in her hand. “Hi” She smiled at you as your face dropped from seeing her. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I figured you and the baby might be hungry so I decided to stop by” She chuckled.
This would be the first time you talked to Robin after the incident that happened. The game nights still happened every Friday. However, even after her many attempts, you still had refused to talk to her. You couldn’t fathom how she was the one person you had trusted, yet she had spilled your secret to the very person you didn’t want to find out about it.
“We’re fine, Steve is making us food from the kitchen”
“(Y/N), how long are you gonna keep on ignoring me? I learned from my mistakes and I only wanted what was best for you–” “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT’S BEST FOR ME!”
“I trusted you, Robin. I trusted you with a big secret that I had and you have the audacity to make yourself a victim right now?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“I didn’t need you to do that for me. So no, I can’t forgive you right now no matter how many times you apologize. Now, get out of my face before I kill you” You yelled.
“(Y/N)–” “GET OUT!”
Robin put her head down in defeat, she messed up and she knew it.
Just as soon as you closed the door, Steve came running to the front door after hearing you yell. “Hey, is everything okay?” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just about something” You forced a smile onto your face.
Steve smiled back before pulling you in for a tight embrace. “Not too tight. Baby bump” you giggled. “Oop, sorry”
The two of you stayed like that for a while. It was rare moments like this that made you happy. Just the two of you together, against the world.
“By the way food is ready”
three months gone
It was now the eighth month of your pregnancy. You had a baby bag packed and ready to go anytime the baby wanted to pop out of you. Steve was also checking in on you everyday, making sure you weren’t dead yet.
You were in the middle of making yourself pickles with peanut butter on them when you heard a knock on your door. “Just a second” you chuckled as you licked the remaining peanut butter that was on your spoon.
When you opened the door, Steve was standing on your doorway with a serious look on his face. “Oh hi” your face dropped at the expression his face had. “Can we talk? This is really important and I think it’s about time we discuss this” He said with a serious tone laced on his voice. “Oh uhm sure” You said as you led him inside your house.
As the two of you sat on your table, you offered him something to eat, in which he declined and tried to converse with you to address the elephant in the room.
“So how have you been?” He awkwardly asked. “Steve, you’re on the phone with me 24/7. Just skip the small talk and just get straight to the point”
Steve was baffled at her response, yet he complied and got straight to the reason as to why he went to her place in the first place.
“I think it’s about time we talk about our schedule with the baby” He started as you made eye contact with him letting him know that he has your full attention.
“I was thinking we could switch every 2 weeks? We'll live close to each other so he or she won't have to adjust to a new place every time we have her.”
You nodded at his suggestion before opening your mouth to state a query that you had in mind.
“Uhm, what holidays do you want to have the baby?”
Steve thought for a second before replying to your question. “You can have the baby for their first Christmas. I know how important Christmas is for you”
You shook your head at his response. Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“No. We can spend the baby’s first Christmas all together. The baby deserves to have two happy parents on Christmas” you suggested.
The brunette boy sat in his seat with his mouth agape. However, you were getting the wrong idea from his current position. “Only if you want” you added nervously.
Steve shook his head “No, no. Of course I want to. Thank you” He gave you a genuine smile.
Steve couldn't help but smile at what his ex-lover had stated. It was thoughtful of her to say that, and knowing that she still cares for him made his heart skip a beat.
“So do you have any baby names in mind?” You asked your ex-husband to hopefully get your mind off of the conversation you had just a few seconds ago. Steve nodded, “Yeah, I have a few actually”
“Let’s hear it then” you warmly smiled at him. “Well do you remember the flowers I gave you on our first date?” He asked as you raised your eyebrows at him. “Pink lilies of the valley?”
“Yeah! I was playing around with names and I really liked the name ‘Lilliana’. We can call her Lily for short.”
He looked into your eyes, waiting for a sign of approval from you. “It’s really pretty and it has a sentimental meaning attached to it” Steve added.
“Lilliana it is then. How about a boy's name?” You asked him. Steve awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before replying “Well, I kinda forgot about that part”
“What made you so sure that this baby isn't a boy?”
“Well what made you so sure that it’s not a girl?” He asked back at you. “Cause I have motherly instincts, Steve” You scoffed.
“Maybe you should decide then.” Steve offered, which you gladly accepted. “How about Luke? From Star Wars you know? The first movie we watched together”
Steve had a flashback of the night you two went out for a date. It was raining and the theatres were closed, both of you were completely drenched in the backseat of his car before finally deciding to just rent out the movie “Star Wars”. It was also the first time you two shared your first kiss together.
“I like that, very sentimental too” He chuckled as you hid your face to prevent him from seeing the blush that was creeping up on your face. “Luke it is then” you smiled.
“Well since we have shared custody of the baby, I would like for you to meet my girlfriend. Since you know, she’ll be helping me take care of the baby”
Girlfriend. Steve had a girlfriend.
You had completely forgotten about the time you were at the mall when you saw him practically snogging the girl in public. You felt your heart drop at the topic, yet you sucked it up so Steve wouldn’t notice it.
“Yeah, for sure. When though?” You asked, forcing a smile onto your face.
“Anytime, really. We don’t mind.”
“Would Thursday be a good day?” You asked, trying to seem interested in the said topic. “Yeah of course! I’m so excited for you to meet her” Steve smiled in response.
“Yeah me too!”
Nope, definitely not excited
—
Steve was right about her, the girl was a complete sweetheart. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. I mean how could anyone?
She didn’t mind that you were having a baby with him, she supported him with all of her heart. Not only that but she was also really beautiful. Like a goddess type of beautiful.
You couldn’t help but feel insecure. In this moment, you knew that you had lost. If it wasn’t for your baby, Steve wouldn’t have stayed in contact with you. I mean who would get back to you if they saw this beauty?
The girl could even be a better mother than you. Just then, a thousand insecure thoughts started to fill your head. In times like this, you could only turn to one person, and one person only.
You dialed the phone number onto your telephone, it was ringing for a few moments until a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hey Robin, Can you come over?”
Not even a few minutes went by, Robin was already at your house. You had ranted about Steve’s new perfect girlfriend to her.
Robin was in disbelief, “(Y/N), calm down”
“I can’t just calm down, Robin. I look like a huge potato right now because of this belly” You sobbed into the tissue she gave you.
“That’s because you’re pregnant. P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T. Have you seen yourself before you were pregnant? I would’ve totally hit on you if you were single” She said as you laughed at her statement.
You couldn’t stay mad at Robin for that long, of course you wanted to, but you just couldn’t.
“You know what, Robin? I missed this” You smiled genuinely at her. “Me too”
“I’m so sorry for what I did to you. It was unacceptable! I couldn’t believe myself. I only said that because I was worried of you cause if you ever—“ “Robin, breathe”
She exhaled as you giggled at her behavior. “It’s all forgiven now, Robin. Don’t worry about it”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Of course.” You said as you pulled her in for a tight embrace.
“Although, I do prefer you apologizing to me with snacks.” You smiled innocently at her.
“You are such a jerk”
one month gone
Your water had just broke and you had notified Steve about it. He was now going to the hospital as fast as he could.
When he got to your room, he saw you walking around, hands pressed against your waist with your face scrunching up in pain.
“Hi” He smiled nervously at you. “Why are you nervous, Steve Harrington? Are you the one pushing a baby out of your vagina?” You snapped back at him.
“Geez, no need to be aggressive”
“Shut up before I kill you” You gritted your teeth together as another contraction hit you.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked as he was panicking. “I need this baby out of me right now. Can you do that, Harrington? It’s freaking Christmas Eve later yet I’m spending it at the hospital in pain” you took a deep breath before laying down on the bed again.
“Hey, I’m here okay?” Steve kissed your forehead as you smiled at him. “I know, thanks for coming.”
“Well I mean, do I have any other choice?” he joked as you playfully punched his chest at the remark he made. “I’m kidding. Just try to rest ok?” he kissed your forehead again before he got to rest himself as well.
He woke up 8 hours later and spent the last 2 hours watching TV. The time was now 11:35. Steve decided that you also needed food to at least make your Christmas Eve happy. He saw that you were still sleeping, so he quietly made his way to the door and bought some food.
Steve was gone for 20 minutes. 20 minutes tops. Yet when he came back, you were surrounded by doctors as you were pushing this baby out.
He dropped the food he brought to the table and rushed towards you to hold your hand.
“Push, (Y/N), push!” The doctor was encouraging you to do so. Even though it was painful, you complied with them. “I can see the head now. You’re doing so good (Y/N)! Just one more. One more!”
Steve’s hand was sweating, he was nervous at the situation happening in front of him. As he was about to say something encouraging to you, he was abruptly stopped by the sound of a baby’s cry.
“It’s a girl!”
And just like that Steve’s life flashed before his eyes.
six months gone
Your daughter, Lilliana, had just started teething. She would bite anything her teeth would grab a hold on.
One of her newest victims was her father.
“Ow! You hurt daddy, Lily.” Steve pouted as he played with your daughter. Lilliana started laughing at his gesture. “Oh, so you like it when daddy gets hurt?” He put his hands on his chest as your daughter started laughing more.
“Honey, I’m home” you shouted as you heard laughing from upstairs. As you climbed up the stairs, the laughing started getting louder and louder. “What is going on here?” you chuckled as you watched your husband fake crying. “Well, Miss Lily here thinks that daddy getting hurt is funny”
You laughed at what Steve had said. “Is that true, sweets?”
“Is that true?” You bopped her nose as she laughed harder. “She's been biting an awful lot lately” Steve said as he grabbed her from the crib and held her in his arms. Lilliana took this as an opportunity to bite him again. “OW!” He flinched as the little devil in his arms started biting him again. She laughed once again, as you stared at your little family lovingly.
nine months gone
Lilliana had just started crawling, and she was not normal. She was crawling backwards, which was weird.
“No Lily, you crawl like this. Forward, not backward” you showed her how but she disregarded it and just continued to crawl backwards again. “You never listen to mommy, don’t you?”
“Steve!” You called out from the living room. “Yes?’ He stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Why is my baby crawling backwards?”
“Wait what?”
“She is! Like look at her!” You exclaimed as Steve sprinted towards the living room. He looked at her then started laughing like a maniac.
“Oh my god. I live with two babies” You rolled your eyes as Steve started cheering Lilliana on. “You’re supposed to be teaching her how to crawl properly, not encouraging her”
“This is how I crawled as a baby. Beeboop beeboop” He started laughing again as he watched your baby crawl backwards again.
You sighed at the sight of them. “Like father, like daughter”
five years gone
It was now Lilliana’s first day of kindergarten. She made sure to prepare everything she needed the night before. You were proud of your daughter for being independent and very mature for her age.
“You sure you got everything, love?” You asked again as she sighed at you. “Yes, mom”
“Was that a sigh I heard?” Steve pointed his eyebrows at her. (Y/N) laughed at the scene that was unveiling in front of her. “Okay honey, you need to go now. Promise me you won’t cry?” Lilliana just nodded in reply as her parents kissed her forehead goodbye.
“I need to go now bye mommy, bye daddy!” She said as she gave a kiss to the both of you on your cheeks once again.
You and Steve stood there in surprise. Lilliana didn’t even cry
“What just happened?” Steve was perplexed. “Well that was anticlimactic.” Your eyes widened at the little girl’s gesture. “I expected her to beg us not to go.” You added as you turned to look at Steve who was standing beside you bewildered.
His little girl was all grown up.
seven years gone
“No! Lily favors me!” you heard shouting from Nancy and Jonathan’s living room. “No! She said that I’m her favorite!” you heard another one fight back.
You made your way to their kitchen and saw the kids, who were now young adults fighting over your daughter.
“The last time I saw Lily, I asked her if I was her favorite and she said yes!” Lucas raised his voice. “Because you were the only person there, dipshit!” Dustin snapped back.
“Hey! Hey! Language! My daughter's right in front of you guys.” Steve interfered with the argument.
“But Lilliana is always excited to see me” El said softly. “You’re lying!”
“She loves me cause I’m the only one that has unique and beautiful hair” Max rolled her eyes as if she was pointing out the obvious.
“Shut up, Max. Nobody likes redheads!” Mike said to her. Max gasps at the statement that he made. “Well clearly Lily does!”
The young adults were fighting over who your daughter favored. You mentally slapped your forehead at this pointless argument.
The yelling was starting to get louder and everyone was basically using this as an excuse to judge each other and before you decided to start to intervene in the argument unfolding in front of you, Steve had beaten you to it.
“Guys, it’s obvious she favors me” He rolled his eyes.
thirteen years gone
Lily had just arrived home from school, sulking. You noticed the change in her behavior after she slammed the door to her room. “Hey! No slamming the doors young lady!”
Wiping the excess water off of your hands, you went up the stairs and made your way to your daughter’s bedroom. You heard sniffling from inside but before you could even open your mouth to speak, you heard your husband’s voice coming from inside.
“Hey, he’s just a stupid boy okay?” Steve said as he pulled your daughter in for a tight hug. “He doesn’t deserve you and you certainly don’t deserve someone who acts like that” He added as Lilliana started sobbing into his neck.
He rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down Lily’s back as she was letting out soft sobs. Steve was the perfect dad.
fourteen years gone
“First day of High School! You made it honey!” You and Steve were ecstatic for your daughter. Even though she acted as if she didn’t care, you knew deep down she did.
“Do you have everything packed?” Steve, once again asked for the ninth time. “Yes, dad” Lilliana rolled her eyes.
You chuckled at the father and daughter. “Hey don’t you dare roll your eyes at me” Steve pointed at her.
“One more picture!”
“What? Mom? No!” Lilliana protested. “Pretty please?” you pouted at her which was then followed by Steve doing the same thing.
“Please Lily, this’ll be your mom and I’s remembrance that our little girl is growing up–”
–
“Mr. Harrington, are you there?”
Steve was abruptly awakened from his daydreaming. “What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “We said, what do you want to name your daughter?” The nurse in front of him replied.
(Y/N) looked at Steve for reassurance that he can name their baby. As Steve caught a glimpse of his daughter, tears started forming in his eyes.
“Do you want to hold her, Mr. Harrington” The nurse asked as Steve can only do so much but nod. He was stunned in place, no words were able to come out of his mouth as his only focus right now was on his daughter.
(Y/N) smiled at the two, it was her little family.
“Merry Christmas, Steve”
And Lilliana did have two happy parents on her first christmas, because at exactly 12:00 am of December 25, 1990, a baby girl was born to Steve Harrington and Y/n Y/l/n.
three years gone
“Are you excited to be the flower girl, Lily?” Steve enthusiastically asked his daughter who was in front of him. She nodded shyly as Steve tickled her. Her laughter was music to his ears, he could never get enough of her.
“Ooh, it’s time. Are you excited to see mommy in a dress?”
“Yes!” Lilliana jumped up to show her excitement. Steve then grabbed her and twirled her around in the air. “I better go inside now. You go wait out here okay?”
Lilliana nodded as Steve went inside the chapel to wait for a special someone.
“You may now kiss the bride”
Everyone around them whooped and cheered at the newlyweds, and Steve was one of them.
No matter how bright and cheerful the aura around him was, he was fighting the urge to break down inside of the chapel. No amount of happiness could replace the misery he was feeling inside of him. And he hated it.
However, in his mind, the only thing keeping him intact was that you were happy. Lily was happy. And he prioritized your happiness over his, even though it pained him to do so.
As the newlyweds made their way through the aisle, he made eye contact with you who was now hand in hand with your new husband. You gave him a nod to let him know that you acknowledge his presence in your wedding. He did the same thing as well.
It should’ve been him standing there with you. Yet, that was not the case.
In the end, (Y/N) and Steve never lived happily ever after. Just because a baby is born doesn’t mean people automatically get back together. Although, they did spend a happy life with their daughter, Lilliana, just not altogether.
Steve was wrong, a baby doesn’t change everything. Because if it did, there would be a happy ending to this story. The two of you would be together. And Steve Harrington wouldn’t have to watch the love of his life say “I do” to Eddie Munson.
But, there’s no fairytale in this story, and that’s just how life is.
jk i’m not that cruel there’s an alternate ending to this story. i feel like my love for angst is too much right now. I NEED TO MAKE SOME FLUFFY IMAGINES
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#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x y/n#joe keery#joe keery x reader#joe keery fanfic#joe keery imagine#joe keery x you#stranger things#stranger things angst#stranger things imagine#stranger things 4#steve harirngton fic
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Dainsleif's dick being infused with abyss energy(?) like his arm-
Like yea Tartaglia's last form's dick, yeah Ito's oni dick, yeah zhongli's dragoon dick,but what of Dain???? That shit must be magical 😩
⦿ 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ eyes up here princess with dainsleif
CW. NSFW (MDNI), big dick! dain, fem! reader, use of words (princess), established relationship, teasing, first-time sex, implied oral, sex w/out penetration (thigh job and dick job? is that even a thing? idk, just read it to find out), dirty talk, magical dick (i am NOT sorry), mention of abyss princess lumine
AN. the new archon quest 🧍🏻♀️ it felt like a fever dream and it's a whole ass year again before we get to see this man so i am making it my mission to let him and his abyss-energy-fused dick live in my mind rent-free. also, if the anon that sent me this is still here to witness me posting this, hello :D this took me by surprise bcs i planned it to be short but here we are ig
it wasn't every day that you get dain's attention all to yourself.
you would often see him somewhere, busy, as always. sometimes, you would find yourself conversing with a few locals when dain tries to do things on his own as he would reason out that it's for your own safety. or you'd be up and about some part of the region searching for the abyss princess as to what he currently puts as his top priority.
these repeating turn of events would, most of the time, make you question whether you really matter to him seeing as he's always invested in things unrelated to you or what interests you. you don't ask too much from him but sometimes, a little attention would be nice, or have him answer all the questions that run inside your head.
yet, when dain would see that familiar expression painting your face as you make your bed for the night, he would put everything on hold and indulge more in what you'd request. he does make up for you, well, you have no complaints when he does because he'd always be there in a heartbeat for every beck and call.
hence why you're laid out on your bed, legs spread out with him toying with your already sore clit.
the idea of having sex had never once danced in between each conversation you'd have with dain. you'd rather spend the time to catch up on each other's day and sort out a route to where you both want to go next. it never fazed you when some people asked how your relationship with dain is going, not even bothered when some old women from liyue dramatically gasped as you've never been that intimate with your lover.
as the tension builds up throughout the months of overhearing people gossiping about their partners or be the victim of a drunk local telling you the tale of their sexual escapades, it draws out some images in your head. would dain be like the same as those oni's you've heard about? or have an impressive length similar to this one tale about a dragon lord? heck, would he have a dick that grows unrealistically big just like with the harbinger that you've heard about?
but who fucking cares anyway? you're about to get the real deal right now.
"what a curious mind you have there, princess." dain mindlessly mused as he press soft kisses along your thighs, leaving you breathless as he presses himself closer to your aching core. you can feel the heat from the big hard tent on his pants as he rubs himself to the dampness of your cunt. "i thought that eating you out could already satiate your pretty little head but you still want... what? what is it that you want from me again?"
he taunts, amused when he hears a cry from your disheveled form. "ah, didn't i say to tell me if you want something?"
"but it's embarrassing to say it!" you can't even fully reason out how humiliating it is for you to casually ask him that you want to see his dick as you let out another moan when he lightly thrusts his clothed cock on your core. he doesn't even let up, continuing his cruel pace in rubbing his aching dick on your already sensitive clit.
"p-please! i just, a-ah, want to see your d-dick!"
"say what again, princess?"
having enough of his teasing, you went to give your best in bending your body just to reach the big tent on his pants. "i want to see your dick dain and... i want you to fuck me, please."
you can feel a rush of heat all over your skin, your eyes quickly darting to the side to avoid dain's amused pair. a chuckle was all you heard before you felt his hands gently laying you down back to bed. in response to his pleased titter, you scoffed and gave him a quick glare.
"i'm sorry but you're just irresistible when you're so honest with me." he paused as he takes a sharp intake of air when he pulls out his leaking cock from the confines of his pants.
your eyes widen at the sight. no, it's not because he's as big as what you heard like the one of an oni or he has that delicious curve like that of the dragon cock but it's because the hue is unlike any other, the dark blue pulses as beads of white litters on the tip. fuck, when dain gave his dick a quick stroke, you can see how it grew a bit larger in his palm.
you drool just by imagining how it would feel inside of you.
"eyes up here, princess." he gave your thighs a light smack, pulling your attention back up before you felt the cockhead rubbing so gingerly on your little nub, smearing your cum on your lower lips.
"you're so eager for me, huh?" he can feel you trembling the more he pays attention to your aching core, gliding the head back and forth your lower lips, enough to push the head inside your hole but easy for him to just pull right back out. he's testing out the waters, waiting for more of your reactions and he could only see you enjoying yourself being please with the tip of his dick.
"just look at you, so wet and ready for me." and you are, feeling your arousal pool and spill right out of your needy hole while dain keeps making a mess out of it. your hips desperately buck right up, chasing for the head but he kept you pinned down on the soft mattress as he continues teasing you.
"dain, please, want to feel more of you." your hand went to grab his arms, giving it a light squeeze that you knew would get him to listen to you.
but it did the complete opposite.
"didn't you say that you want to see my dick?"
before you could argue back, dain had gently straightened both your legs upward, his strong arms locking you in place before pushing the dark blue cockhead in between your thighs. "been wanting to do this for so long," he uttered with a low groan, his body shivering when he thrusts his cock in the middle of your soft flesh, the rushed and hasty movements of the head prods at your clit. "you look so pretty like this, just letting me use you."
you gasped for air when he purposely prods at your puckering hole, angling his abyss-energy-fused cock to dive in and out of your thighs. your eyes caught a glimpse of how each streak of white glow, the nerves pulsing as he ruts himself so needily on you.
"so keep your pretty eyes on me and maybe, if you managed to do so, i might just give you what you want."
and you did, you desperately tried your best to keep looking at dain and just watching how he use your thighs to get off. it was a rare sight to see dain lose himself, tottering over the warmth and softness that covers his dick.
at first, he was scared that he might scare you off, thinking how unusual his cock looks. compared to what he thought you'd prefer to see in between your legs, about to rail the innocence out of you, his was far off the scales.
but when he saw your eyes almost sparkled when he pulled out his dick, hands so damn eager to touch him, and both your lips spilling out how much you want more of him just sends him over the edge. his pace quickened the more he stares at your needy form, enjoying the way your eyes fluttered close whenever he brushed against your hole before proceeding in sliding his cock back on your thighs.
"i'm so close, fuck, you feel so good 'round me like this, princess." and fuck, yes, you can feel more of his pre-cum ooze around the head and coats more of your already slick skin. it felt so dirty, so filthy to watch him fuck himself with your thighs and you felt dirtier when you were enjoying how his large dick, fused with the same abyss energy as his arm, slides back and forth your thighs.
"cum for me please," you whispered, urging your lover to release his load on your skin. within seconds, dain stopped his thrusts as he buried his cock between your legs, pressing it tighter as he shoots his load on your flesh, slowly having the thick globs of his cum drip down on your core.
while dain goes to steady his breathing, you went to open up your legs to see how much cum had covered your body, the scent of sex causing your head to fizzle out that you had nothing in your mind but the need to see his dick filling you up.
dainsleif was shocked when you went to reach out for his cock, the keenness in your eyes captivating as you focused on his dick.
"wanna see how it looks as you fuck me." your request came like a cry, a whimper of desperation. and you can feel the way dain's dick twitched on your hand.
you're going to be the death of him.
⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content
#⇲ full-streams#nsfw.txt#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#dainsleif smut#dainsleif x reader smut#the archon quest PLEASE#i am 🧍🏻♀️#man pls stay still for once 😤
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❄︎ all characters are 19+ y/n being 20, second female character being 19, and male character being 21, contains swearing and mentions of violence ❄︎
•unedited•
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑…
Three weeks passed since the event with your “sister” and you didnt know how to feel. Life felt like a fever dream and as you sat down sadly in your college dorm, you received a dm, from Connie.. ?
You two had chemistry, well chemistry wasn’t the word, maybe advanced biology.. he was the type to make you think that he was all about you in private during your late high-school years, and then act like you were nothing more than friends in public. Considering that you two were friends, you couldn’t tell whether you were really trippin bout the way he acted or if you just caught feelings while he didnt. So for your own peace, you un-added him and went no contact. This went on for three years until tonight.You opened your inbox and the message read:
“long time no talk..heard niggas spreading shit bout you that aint sit right.. tell me wassup my heart.”
Your heart dropped.. the fuck was he talking about you like that for? HE CHEATED! WITH YOUR SISTER AT THAT!!
“Fuck it” you thought and began typing your paragraph..
𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤
You remembered the footsteps that entered your household, and it was her.. Your sister, Nataly and your newly EX BOYFRIEND entering your home, your safe haven. She was greeted with stares from her father, brother and yourself. “How could you do that to your sister?” Your father asked? His tone was low, and he seemed hurt for you, but this was no regular empathy, this was trauma.His face seemed as if he had seen one thousand years worth of pain and heartbreak, and it broke him to know that his daughter, his baby was just like the person who had hurt him. History repeats itself no?
“Y/n I’m not here to ask for your forgiveness but I did come here to apologize-“ before he could finish his sentence, his face was met with your fathers fist, his blood flew through the kitchen, spreading along the kitchen floor like wet fresh paint. The crunch of Ony’s nose filled the room which was followed by a gut wrenching scream.. He had no time to talk or explain himself. You would have never expected your father to move so quickly considering his size and weight but it seemed as if he took his anger out on the boy. The boy who looked too much like the one who betrayed him and slept with his gold digging…wife, his cousin. After your brother pried your father and ex apart, Ony was unconscious, and your father’s once dark blue polo almost looked the same shade as midnight, and was soaked..
You watched your sister to see how she would react, would she try to help him? Ask daddy “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” in the voice she uses when she doesn’t get what she wants? But to your surprise, she tried to hug you, grabbing your hands and repeating “It was only twice.. it only happened twice.” Your brother must have seen the glint in your eye which caused him to act faster than you could, separating you and your sister before she got a matching broken nose.. “OH SO IM PEACE-MAKER TODAY HUH?” he repeated, pacing up and down the kitchen. “AWWWEEE SHITTTT IM GOING TO JAIL I GOT FINGER PRINTS ALL ON THIS BITCH- YO POP YOU MURDERED HIM- NIGGAS NOT EVEN BREATHING-“ his tattooed hands touched his waves, rubbing his face and fanning himself dramatically.
“You’re dead to me” you said to Nataly. And it was the last thing you remembered before leaving your home in a frenzy. “why does this shit happen to me god?” you pleaded in your car, eyes too swollen to drive causing you to pull over and take a break. After that, your memory was foggy, you did make it home though and skipped school for a week after..
𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭
You found that your conversation with Connie lasted for hours, then led to an instagram facetime, then let to an actual facetime, to talking every day for the next month, being shady to Ony together, throwing subs on social media about him, and having study sessions. Over this month, your time in the empty lecture halls with him were the best, being alone in a big room with someone who you “weren’t supposed to be with” always turned you on.. or maybe you were just a little perv, but Connie noticed this. He noticed this as he sat next to you instead of across from you one day, how you looked at his lips and not his eyes when he got the correct answer. You purposely told him that you would reward him if he passed his exam which he did, knowing exactly what you had in mind. He noticed how your soft plush lips eased into his as if they craved the intimate privacy that they once despised, craving the secrecy that caused your situationship to fail. Your slick coated your dark brown g-string under your long skirt that was now hiked up, as you sat on his lap, the way he played with your nipple piercing remembering how everyone said it was dumb to get just one but it fit you so well. This was his first time touching you this way in years, and he would make this a moment to remember. Although he wanted to continue, he stopped to wash his hands at the lab sink before he began, and then came back to finish your lewd scene. You sat patiently waiting for him to finish and this gave you time to think about your actions. Were you doing this because of Ony? No, so why do you feel so nervous?
He turned around and returned to his seat, kissing your skin which sent tingles up your spine, calming you down, but you still had something on your mind and it made your balls blue. Your high came down and as usual, he noticed. Knowing Connie for as long as you did, his maturity was now visible and in that moment he promised that you’d be his number 1. It was hard to trust niggas now-a-days but what did you have to lose? If all hell breaks loose just wait until it freezes over and go about your life as you did before him. So being you, it was easy to agree but even harder to believe him, but you ignored it. You knew yourself well and if he didn’t treat you how you were supposed to, then he’d be gone. The heat between you went back to its intensity as he deepened the kiss, leaving hickies around the open skin on your chest above your tube top. Your legs fluttered open at his touch and you felt his erection almost burning into the fat of your ass, he slowly put his fingers back inside of you, thrusting while curving his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot. You could feel yourself coming to your high, gripping onto his shoulders riding his fingers, begging for his touch and affection. You pulled at his studded earlobe with your teeth as his erection stimulated your clit. You found yourself tugging on his sweats, begging to be touched by him… You slid your hand into his ethikas, pulling out his cock, it twitched while you rubbed his pink tip that was already lubricated with his pre cum. You played with the plump of his pink lips while you grounded yourself onto his dick, sinking your way onto him. You both were on the edge and near to cum, so you weren’t surprised when he bucked his hips into you before you could gain your senses. You lost control of your body as it bucked in return, matching his pace and his sloppy rythm. “Fuckkkkkk con- shit” you rubbed his shoulders as you felt your high approaching.
“You take this dick good huh ma-“ he grunted, his rhythm now inconsistent as he slowed down, edging the both of you. You felt as if you were on cloud nine, the way he caressed your skin, touching you in the places that were left cold by your ex… rubbing his favorite spots on your body. His tongue grazed against your own, swirling in the pool of your saliva, he bit your lip causing you to jump slightly. He laughed while kissing the both of your cheeks, his thumb re-located to your clit, rubbing faster and harder, pressing down against your sweet spot as you whined against his hips.
“Connie! I’m cumminggggg, oh my-“ You grabbed his body for support as you felt him release inside of you, he gripped your hips, holding you still as you jerked against him, still in the after shock of your orgasm.
“Hold on y/n- shittt” he whispered as he felt his seed leak out of you. He slightly moved his hips, pushing the other half of his girth that couldn’t fit inside of you. As it kissed your cervix, you felt your eyes roll back…but there was another pair watching you.You both heard shushed voices outside of the door, forgetting the time and how the night classes started at 8pm… it was currently 9:30 and by the grace of God no one entered the lecture hall whilst you and connie had your randevu.
“shit the time-“ you mumbled, quickly hopping off of him, loosing balance instantly as he held you up. You grabbed some wipes that sat in the inner pocket of your telfar, and cleaned you both up to the best of your ability. You couldn’t control the giggles that left your mouth as you fled the crime scene, but that night liberated you.
𝟏𝟐:𝟎𝟎𝐚𝐦
Connies head rested on your chest as it rose and fell,he slept as you were left alone with your thoughts. You didn’t regret what happened and were looking forward to a future with him..but who’s eyes were it that you felt?…..
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐟𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝.
hope yall liked this as much as i DREADED MAKING THIS jkjk..mwahh!~𝓵𝓮𝓵𝓮
#black reader#black coded reader#attack on titan#iwanty0uu#fem reader#aot x y/n#aot fanfiction#aot x black reader#connie x black reader#aot connie#onyankopon smut#onyankopon x black y/n#ony x black reader#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#onyankapon#aot x you#aot smut#aot x reader#aot#aot headcanons#connie x black y/n#connie smut#connie springer#connie attack on titan
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Hey, may I request some headcanons for tf 141 and los vaqueros where reader is M. I. A (missing in action) and then came back?
Sorry if this is bad and thank you!
Nah, It's great :) Also I hope you don't mind if I do it in two parts
Ghost
One month.
To Ghost time felt like a fever dream. It felt like forever since he lost sight of you during the mission. It felt like forever since you two exchnaged glances and checked up on each other.
He felt stupid for thinking you were okay when you didn't answer your walkie-talkie.
They found your rifle, but no body, which gave him some hope.
You were a strong fighter and you’ve survived worse than just some kidnapping.
At least he hoped it was just some kidnapping.
He gathered a team for a rescue mission but nothing turned up, it was like you just vanished into thin air.
Time went by and still no contact.
M.I.A. does not mean dead, of course, but it's often as good as.
He went back to work, as much as he didn’t want to, accepting that you were dead somewhere.
You were doing horrible on your end.
You were separated from your squad and knocked unconsious.
You woke up in some basement, tied to a chair with people surrounding you.
They people that kidnapped you wanted information, but you didn't break no matter how long they tortured and interrogated you for.
They moved you from one building to another as to not be caught and during the third time when you were being lead by one of the guys who was not exactly paying attention to you and talking with his friend over the comms. You took that as an opportunity and got out of his grasp, killing him in the process.
That didn't end well as you were knocked out in the end by another guy who snuck up on you.
When Simon was told one month later that they might've found where you were he flipped.
You were found and brought back to the base.
Some of your ribs were broken along with your nose, you had bruises all over and they noticed that two of your teeth have been pulled out.
You could withstand any pain but knowing that your team missed you. That Simon missed you is what hurt you the most.
Simon has never run to treatment facility as fast as he did that day, all he knew was that one moment he just stood over your sleeping body.
He was too scared to hold your hand, so he just sat there watching you til you woke up.
After that he was scared to let you stay alone during missions.
Soap
There was no reason to be worried Soap told himself over and over
You didn't answer your comms, yes, you disppeared during a mission, yes, and no one had heard of you in the last few days, also yes. But that in and of itself didn’t mean anything.
Still, he couldn’t help but worry.
It wouldn’t be the first time soldiers vanished without a trace, especially among those who were fighting, and he suspected some might never be found, not even after the end of the mission.
It's been two weeks and you were considered M.I.A.
It didn't make it better that it was Christmas eve and you were fucking M.I.A.
You were supposed to be with him, curled up in a blanket, watching sappy movies and throwing pop corn at each other.
Instead he was alone, sitting in one of your hoodies and hugging your pillow that still smelled of your shower gel.
He cried not being able to handle this shit and soon enough, he fell asleep defeated.
Meanwhile what he didn't know, was a silhouette that hissed while getting out of a car.
You were kidnapped, god nows how you got out. On your own at that.
As you got out, taking down the people that kidnapped you with a rifle and some knives, you passed out due to blood loss.
You were found by some civillian couple who had no idea who you were, but took you to the nearest hospital.
You spend a good week in there until you just couldn't take it anymore. You had to get out of there and tell your team that you were alive. Why didn't you just call them?
You didn't escape, but you kind of escaped before the doctors gave you the permission to leave because you were still very injured.
As you got out of the cab, you thanked the driver one more time and made your way towards the house.
It was dark, no lights or Christmas tree were seen through the windows and you felt guilty, clenching your jaw.
As you walked inside, took your boots off and dropped your bag you quietly made your way over to the kitchen, seeing as there was a light on.
There he was, your Johnny, asleep while hugging one of your pillows.
You took a chair next to him and played with his growing mohawk.
After a few seconds, he slowly opened his eyes, brushing your hand away.
You softly greeted him, smiling at how his eyes suddenly wided as he straighteend his back.
His breathing increased rapidly and he wondered if he was still dreaming.
Before you knew it, you were lying on the cold floor with Johnny hardly hugging you.
You winced in pain as you were still very much injured, but you didn't care as long as he was in your arms.
He did apologize later so it's fine.
You spent the next few days celebrating holidays while huddled up together on the couch. He didn't let go of you no matter what.
#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod x gn reader#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#gn reader#male reader#cod x male reader
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STARTERS [ SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY ]
cw: none, strangers to lovers, first meeting, not beta read, might be military inaccuracies because im not in the military, medic! fem!reader.
notes: i've worked so hard [exaggeration] to make this look cute but ik its gonna devolve in 0.5 seconds. this is part one of a series.
words: 1,065.
"This won't be easy."
A fair warning, a meager one too, from your new, technically, superior, Kate Laswell. You had accepted her offer as a combat medic, seeing as their next mission was supposed to take months. But those months weren't even this year, they were the next.
This year, it was your mission to become familiar with your crew, have a starter and a taste.
Considering you've dealt with plenty of irritable, ill-mannered patients in the E.D. before, it shouldn't feel so stuffy when you enter the base. You I.D. card was scanned, and you were permitted entry past the intimidating security guard who's eyes nailed you like you were his prey. You might've been.
Heels clacking, you rushed to your new office,
MEDICAL WING
A sign read, in red, right above your head. You wanted to feel like you were walking into a new life, but the stares and exhausted attempts at a smile the veteran nurses tossed you made a breath you didn't realize you were holding leave.
Luckily, offices were assigned, and yours was on the first floor.
Empty and quite sad, you tossed your backpack and purse onto your desk, which didn't even have a chair, and put your hands on your hips. Laswell had told you that they wouldn't be back until evening, it was morning.
It felt like walking into your first job, gingerly taking your steps to the staff lounge where you introduced yourself to the nurses who were lounging. They returned the gesture graciously, luckily understanding of your nerves.
Soon enough, your actual superior came to greet you, smiling and laughing with the rest of the staff as she raved about you. As soon as basic information was given, you were tossed out of your nest, bidding you a good flight. The ED never waits for anyone after all.
⚬
As your first day ended and your night began, you sat in your office, which you finally got a chair for, to sift through paperwork. Boring things never really last for long, and as much as you'd like to one-go your work, it definitely wasn't happening. Especially when your sweet nurses and the other doctors bombarded into your office, playfully asking, more like dragging, you to come with them to the mess hall.
It's impolite to say no, isn't it?
It was fun. It was like being in high school again, smiling and giggling before everyone leans into to whisper, bursting back out into laughter. Oh, and it was juicy. Real juicy, juicier when they mentioned him.
"Ghost?"
You ask, tilting your head as you raise a brow, "What kinda' callsign's that?" There was a strange inkling of familiarity of the name, just right under your nose. The nurse who was telling the story went wide-eyed, grinning at you,
"Oh, honey, he's the one with the skull mask."
The mask. The fucking mask.
Everyone could see it, how you face paled like snow, your head dropping as you gawked at them. They all laughed at your reaction, it was quite comical, though they found it funnier for reasons different than yours, teasing, "I haven't even said the story yet!"
Well, Laswell did. God, were you stupid? He was from Task Force 141! They all, allegedly, saw him in the gym, allegedly lifting double his weight, and allegedly you were blushing at the idea of the number, allegedly. And that was essentially the whole story. The nurse beside you poked as he cooed at you,
"Aw, does the doctor have a crush on her first day?" Laughing as you smacked his arm playfully, a stupid grin on all of your faces. The conversation moves on, talking about the soldiers that got into a fight, and how funny it was when one got a rhinoplasty. It felt like you were half-present, like a fever dream as your thoughts swirled together. Maybe your shift was a little too long.
But you couldn't stop thinking about him, your fork spinning the lukewarm pasta as you blandly laughed with your caffeine-high colleagues. Was he really that fascinating?
You couldn't stop thinking about him, your fork spinning the lukewarm pasta as you blandly laughed with your caffeine-high colleagues. Was he really that fascinating? Your mind ran with every though, you hadn’t even seen him today, and yet here you were imagining him, strong, tall, muscular. And of high status? he sure seemed like the pear most imaginative women would like.
But you can't expect him to be a perfect romance lead, especially the more you listened, seeing as he was quite the topic.
Everyone else seemed to just know him, know him in the sense that he was a figure of admiration. The strongest, the fastest, the most intricate, coolest man on one of the greatest task forces affiliated. They knew every little intricate detail of his service. But you didn’t. You don’t even know what they mean by a ‘skull mask’, was it a full skul? does he do face paint like a 3-year-old? You've never seen him, not that you were reluctant to the chance to.
Maybe you were insane, especially since there was the entire rest of the task force for you to get familiar with too. Well, he was one of them so you should go one by one, right—
"Ya' like to talk, dinnea ya?"
You twitched at the voice, "Scottish," You thought to yourself, "John 'Soap' MacTacvish." Laswell had some comments about him, mostly about his inability to speak understandable English, and his refusal to get a military standard haircut, aka he has a mohawk. But it wasn't just the Scot, the devil answered when his name was called.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley.
It was almost as if he knew who you were the moment your eyes met, like a fuse set off between you. Brown eyes, deep like dark chocolate, and cold like the tundra, and more magnetic than any other man you've ever seen, he stared at you, speaking to his friend,
"Seems like they do, Johnny."
Gravelly and low, almost inaudible if it weren't for your fixated ear, his voice whispered to Soap, his eyes never leaving yours. Soap, or Johnny as Ghost had so endearingly called him, grinned, plopping beside you,
"Aye, yer that new medic Laswell's been talkin' 'bout?"
You blink a couple times before you smile, nodding as you introduce yourself. Soap smiles back, polite yet inked with a bit of his eccentric personality, taking your hand into a firm shake. You smile up at the masked figure,
"You must be Ghost, right?"
He gave a bland grunt, not that you expected much more from a quiet man. Soap grinned, ignoring Ghosts lack of proper manners to introduce himself. With small conversation, they left, almost.
Although he walked away, he never left your mind, and you never left his.
⚬ ☠︎︎ ⚬
i think i'm just gonna set the reader to female bc ik i'm eventually gonna do suggestive bits so it'll be easier in the long run. lmk if you have any ideas for simon. [or the others i wrote about!!]
also lmk if i should make a taglist.
[part two]
EYES THAT HOLD SECRETS
directory
#drabble#ao3#ao3 author#cod#fluff#cod x reader#cod mw2#ghosts#cod ghosts#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost headcanons#cod mwii#cod fanfic#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#call of duty#modern warfare 2#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty
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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (4/3)
More Top Gun fic recs:)) Different pairings ahead.
Winner Categories:
1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)
2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)
3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)
4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)
REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!
Honorary Mentions
gold rush by gamerring @asimmutableasgravity
All his life, Jake Seresin has wanted to live his life as loud as possible.
So that when he dies, people can place flowers on his casket.
When the light hits him, sunbaked and smiling and grinning. He's whole and happy and everything he could ever want. He bites down on his teeth.
Later, he hunches over the porcelain, petals falling out of his mouth, and is already one step in his grave.
-
Flowers, fighter pilots and the true fatality of your feelings spilling out.
Jake angst:)) And here’s another one from gamerring:
it's nice to have a friend by gamerring
"Will you marry me?" Ice is on his knees. His posture screams military, but his face is genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed in worry and a hesitant smile plays at his lips. The ring sits in a green velvet box. The band is gold and shiny, with a diamond inlaid in the middle. The rock seems to glow under the sunset, and Maverick's heart starts beating against his chest. This- it's spectacular. It's breathtaking.
It's not for him.
He bites his cheek for a microsecond, and then forces a smile."That's great. She can't say no to that."
And a traitorous part of his soul hopes she does.
-
Three times Maverick should have said something, and the one time he did.
Just read the summary:) (This is canon.)
Lessons in pushing boundaries by will_thewisp
Maverick never needed lessons in pushing boundaries. Not if those boundaries are about going faster, further or screwing up on an ever increasing scale, because he'd run off the edge of the world before he'd let a thought that scared him shitless take root in his mind. It was enough that it was already in his heart.
Or Maverick crashes the Darkstar and needs a very long time to learn that there's things that can and should be fixed. And that he's always had the tools to do it.
Don’t forget a tissue when reading this!
Amen by demiclar @demiclar
"What do you want done with your body when you die?"
Pete Mitchell grieves his best friend.
Can you tell I love Mav angst?:)
Vanilla Milk by Specter_Ross
After the mission, Rooster is struggling to sleep so Maverick pulls some old methods out from when Bradley was a kid, in hopes of helping him.
I never get tired of reading MavDad and Bradley:)
A Perch Built for Two by chase_acow @cowsalot
Rooster is well known for keeping his own company, but between Maverick's reemergence and the suicide mission, Hangman manages to weasel his way into Bradley's attention. He's never let an alpha so close to him before, but Hangman might be the best choice - experienced and unlikely to ask for more than Bradley was willing to give. Unfortunately for him, it's Bradley who wants more, and he has no idea how to ask for it.
Another win for Hangster!
A Little Unconventional by McDanno50
Maverick didn’t know how he ended up here a month after the mission – on his back with his legs spread for not one, but two, hungry alphas. These alphas wanted Maverick so much that they no longer fought but worked together all in the name of mutual pleasure. It felt too good to be true, like a fevered dream conjured up by a broken mind. But even if he couldn’t believe his eyes, he had four other senses to rely on.
A self-indulgent fic in which Omega!Maverick gets fucked by Alpha!Bradley and Alpha!Jake. That's literally it.
Mav/Bradley/Jake:)))))
Not Clamorous For Pardon by Arsenic @arsenicjade33
Okay, but what if the Navy didn't outlaw flogging as a punishment in 1896? Asking for a friend.
Another one of my favorite tropes: Mav being bullied by the Navy:(
still dangerous by cygnettine
Where was he?
Jake was to his right, Bradley in front of him, the girls between their dads.
Someone was missing.
He was missing.
Why was he missing? He was supposed to be there; that was a family dinner and he was family, he was his whole soul, why wasn’t he there?
***
Maverick loses himself and wanders helplessly in his own mind until someone finally comes to his rescue.
Mav has Alzheimer's Disease:(
take a chance on the edge of life by Lacerta
It was a suicide mission. Of course they didn't succeed on their first try.
-
When Maverick dies, he loops back to the morning before.
An Edge of Tomorrow AU. Love this one.
you've got the win in your bag by discosleaze @paulmezcal
“I’m going to go in and get something pierced, and if you’re a good boy, it’ll be my nipple. If you’re not, it’ll be my tongue.”
Speaking of tongues, Bradley just about swallows his. “Why would that be a bad thing?” he croaks out, not enjoying how amused Jake is, mocking, even.
“Well, Bradshaw, because I wouldn’t be able to blow you for weeks afterwards.”
Jake contemplates a second piercing, Bradley contemplates nothing.
asdfghfghjkjhgfdsadfg. This one’s too hot for me.
How Big? by thenofutureshoe
"Most people would have had to give themselves a pep-talk, most people would have been nervous or unsure of the whole thing, Maverick Mitchell was not most people. He was a fucking power bottom and proud of it. This was not his first rodeo, pun intended. And he always got his man."
Once Maverick hears the story behind Slider's callsign, it sounds more like a challenge than anything else.
This one… I never thought their difference in size could be this hot…
a dream of crashing by thefireplanet
Maverick buys a plane.
Somehow, this becomes Iceman’s problem.
THIS ONE’S NOT COMPLETED! But it’s still so fun to read and the characterization is spot on!
and the bunny goes 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅 by Meadow_Wanderer
Contrary to expectation, he rarely measures time by the number of years he's lived without his father.
Instead, he appraises in happenings.
Every birthday, school graduation, and precious firsts; every milestone passing as the memory of his father becomes fainter and fainter until finally he reaches the last occasion where the end and the beginning meet, the son and the sire a breath's width apart, like reaching to touch one's reflection in the mirror.
The very same one he'll face in just shy of a few hours.
Weird and fun!
you are not alone (i watch over you) by redwithlove
“Bradley, do you remember the time when you were eight and you wouldn't let me near your Pops for two days?”
“What, really? Why?”
“Yeah, for two whole days, can you believe it? And it all started over a can of Pringles.”
Or—Bradley with Ice and Maverick over the years.
Mav and Ice and Bradley being family:) My favorite genre of topgun fics:))
PHEW! That's all the fics I've got! Thanks for reading until the end! Don't forget to leave a comment on these fics if you enjoyed them!
Here's my google doc for all four categories! >> God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions: A Masterlist
#as always if you know these authors' tumblrs feel free to tag them!#and tell me if i tagged the wrong person or put the wrong link:')#this was a fun journey and i was reminded of how much fun i had reading all of these!#i hope y'all enjoyed my yapping:)#icemav#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#iceman x maverick#top gun 1986#top gun maverick#top gun#hangster#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#fanfic rec#top gun fic recs#fanfiction recommendation
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a good omens grieving update because if I'm crying at 5 am you better be too.
Good morning, maggoty loves of mine. Despite all attempts to distract myself and you all with wedding cakes and dresses and textposts, it is five in the fucking morning, and I've been crying for half an hour already.
I'm listening to the Pentatonix cover of Hallelujah on loop and I will never be normal about anything ever again and there is nothing you, I, God, Satan or even Neil can do about it.
@mirrorleaf was kind enough to hijack my stupid royal family post with this fucking gorgeous edit of season 1 set to Hallelujah. Thank you, I'm now fucking sobbing and I found another edit again of season 1 and then I read fics and now I'm NOT FUCKING OKAY.
All the times Aziraphale looks up to Heaven and prays, how hopeful and desperate he is, and then the way he looks at Crowley while he's pinned against the wall, entirely calm and sure and safe.
And the song playing with Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah over Crowley crying over alcohol when he thought Aziraphale had died. I'm not okay.
I need to watch season 1 again. When I watched it first, it was in two installments with you maggots on livestream, and the first installment was like two days after I was kidnapped as Mascot of Good Omens. Needless to say, it was all a fever dream.
Then I watched this edit now and there's so much. There's so much fucking layers and emotion and nuance that I didn't notice. And it's absolutely going to wreck me and then I'll have to rewatch season 2 and by then I'll have no self-preservation and I'll have read the book and I'll never ever be okay again and I'll have to live with it.
You all really just found a guy on the internet and fucking wrecked him, huh. This fandom really just did that. Now salt and pepper shakers made me think about Crowley's Fall and the inherent transience of human nature and The angel you knew is not me.
It hurts. I thought I was ridiculous about Drarry. No I was entirely fucking reasonable about Drarry. This is a gut punch except to the throat. Repeatedly.
I remember when I made a post a day or two after finishing season 2 and someone, @thescholarlystrumpet it was probably you, told me that grief isn't a linear process and to take care. To anyone outside this broken fandom, that would seem like a disproportional response to a show's season 2 finale when we know that it will end happily. Everyone in this fandom knows how much that reminder is needed, though.
Besides, though we know that the show ends happily, we know that Aziraphale and Crowley will be together and it is inevitable, how does it still fucking hurt so much? I knew all the spoilers, technically, of the show before I started, and it still surprised me with the emotions.
I had to stop writing this post for a few minutes because an image came to my mind and I had to sketch it. Of how I'd felt when I came here, lonely and frightened, and how the fandom grabbed me and forced me to watch the show and how much it hurts and how beautiful it is and how it feels like a mirror. A shattered mirror, one that's soaked with all our blood and tears, but it showed me I wasn't alone. So here, have this brief sketch and do NOT come at with about pretentiousness my beloved maggots because for one, I have always aspired to be pretentious and for another, THE SUN HASN'T FUCKING RISEN AND I'VE BEEN IN TEARS WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
Congratulations, the next time anyone asks you if you've ever killed anyone, every one of you can confidently say that yes, you are indeed directly responsible for murder. My blood is on your hands, motherfuckers, you adopted a Mascot and then killed him.
#good omens mascot#good omens#weirdly specific but ok#asmi#good omens fandom#maggots#crowley#lgbtqia#aziraphale#neil gaiman#good omens 1#good omens season 1#ineffable divorce#crowley x aziraphale#aziracrow#final fifteen#ineffable fandom#good omens brainrot#ineffable brainrot#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#ineffable lovers#good omens edit#good omens 2#hallelujah
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Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 01
Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf
(let me know if you wish to be tagged)
Mike sat in the passenger seat of Leff's 1970 Chrysler Newport which he treated like the child he always wanted. He was pissed to have been dragged out of bed so early to sit in the Train station parking lot. He had no idea who they were picking up or why he had to be with him but he was annoyed and tired.
"You're gonna need to get in the backseat." Leff said without looking at him.
"The fuck for?" Mike looked over at Leff who narrowed his eyes at him.
"Because I'd rather not watch Y/n embarrass you this early in the morning." He explained. Mike knew very little about this person they were picking up. He knew that they worked for Leff and just returned from doing an import run.
"He can sit in the backseat just fine." Mike laughed but when he felt Leff's gaze on him, he looked over at him.
"Are you fucking serious? I'm already comfortable, why do I have to move just because of them?" Mike whined.
"You sound like a fucking child." Leff groaned.
"You treat me like a fucking child." Mike argued. Leff rolled his eyes and continued to puff on a cigarette watching for this person to make their appearance.
"What's so special about this guy? I mean you made me take a fucking Uber from the airport when I got here but we're picking this guy up at the train station?" Mike asked curiously.
"Y/n works harder than you ever thought about working." Leff kept his eyes on the platform and Mike rolled his eyes.
"Y/n isn't a guy either so be respectful. Did your mother teach you any fucking manners?" Leff asked with frustration. Mike let out a laugh.
"So what? You fucking her?" Mike asked with his eyebrow up. Leff gave him a death glare before Mike put his hands up and got in the back seat mumbling about never getting any respect.
"Okay so this chick...what does she do exactly? I mean is she like Sicky? Is she like me, a runner?" Leff snorted.
"A runner? That's what you call yourself? She's not like either of you because she doesn't need a fucking job title to earn money." Leff explained.
"She's also off limits so don't even think about being cute with her, she'll cut your dick off before I even get a chance to slap you around for being an idiot." Leff pointed at him in the rearview with a warning.
"So you are fucking her?" Mike pressed and Leff swatted at him but he put his hands up.
"Jesus Christ! I'm just curious. What's her deal? Why am I not allowed to even ask about her?" Mike was getting irritated with how uptight Leff was being.
"She used to work for a nightclub that one of my competition works out of. I was fucking a few of her coworkers but she had reached out to me about your mom once." Mike's attention was piqued.
"What do you mean?" Mike pressed.
"When your mom was trying to get her fix, she would go to places like that and try and score. Y/n kept an eye on her for me but her boss wasn't too happy about it...tried to have her dealt with." Leff explained.
"But she works for you now? How did that pan out?" Mike was confused.
"Technically I paid a fee to take her out of the night club. The club boss didn't care, my competition still tries to make moves to bring her back into the fold over there." Leff shook his head.
"How can you trust someone who worked for the competition?" Mike asked and caught Leff's gaze in the mirror again.
"She got her ass nearly cut into pieces for getting your mom out of a deal gone wrong. I saved her life, got her out of that assholes crew. She doesn't have to suck dick or get her ass beat over here. She's worked her ass off and has never said no to a tough task. She's the best worker I got." Leff wanted Mike to know the situation with Y/n and how important she was to his team. She was a trustworthy person and had even known his mom. Mike really wanted to ask her about his mom but he knew Leff would probably shut that down.
It was still something that was too hard to talk about.
"There she is. Keep your dumbass comments to yourself or I'll kick your ass." Leff popped the trunk as she approached and she tossed two large duffels into the trunk before climbing into the car. Mike was surprised she was so attractive. He knew she once worked at a nightclub but she had naturally beautiful features.
"Who's Brokeback Mountain?" Y/n tossed her thumb to the backseat.
"Oh fuck off." Mike groaned in annoyance.
"That's my nephew, Mike. He's apart of the team now." Leff started to drive and Y/n turned back to look at him.
"Is this a permanent look or are you going through a phase of sorts where you like to suck dick?" Y/n asked with a smirk.
"You're one to talk with lips like that. Are you going for New York homeless or DC prostitute?" Mike fought back.
"Mike!" Leff growled but Y/n laughed.
"Oh he's going to be fun. I like him already." She turned in the seat and extended her hand.
"Y/n, I will absolutely be ripping you to shreds verbally on the daily." She smiled brightly and Mike felt a little part of him melt a little before taking her hand and shaking it.
"Mike and I look forward to going toe to toe with you any day sweetheart." He shook her hand and she flicked his cowboy hat.
"So does the hat get you any pussy?" Y/n asked curiously and Mike smirked.
"Why? You want to get in line?" He teased making Y/n laugh.
"This one is going to be trouble, you know that right?" She looked over at Leff who glared at her.
"Don't encourage is dumbass behavior. It will get him killed." Leff gritted.
"He'll be okay. You know Sicky and I will take good care of him." She tried to reassure and Mike was curious as to the touch she gave Leff's shoulder. Maybe she was into Leff? He needed to talk to her and get her story before he let himself get too interested in her.
"So you knew my mom?" Mike asked abruptly and the care grew silent. She looked over her shoulder and nodded at him.
"I did. She talked about you a lot....I'm sorry how things ended." Y/n looked at him with remorse and he wasn't expecting her to look so effected by the mention of her. He made a note to ask her about what she knew when Leff wasn't around.
"Are we done making friendship bracelets and braiding each others hair" Leff asked breaking up the silence.
"Don't' be jealous Leff. We can get you a cowboy hat if you want." She openly teased Leff and her glared at her. There was so much about her Mike wanted to know.
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All the stars are shining bloody red
Next chapter
a/n a fever dream of an idea but when it hits you it does. This is a song I suggest you play for reference. So enjoy this little something something. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
summary: just what happens when an innocent night at the pleasure house leads to something much bigger, making two lost soles collide.
warning: suggestive content, pleasure house, mention of sexual interactions, nudity, alcohol.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"You bunch are no fun", Mor huffed over her fifth glass of wine. She's been trying to drag the whole family to the pleasure house at the side of Velaris ever since her wild night out with Emerie. And don't get me wrong, it was something they used to do. Some nights at Rita's were even wilder than what any pleasure house could provide, and yet the hesitation lingered.
"I have a set of breasts to look at already", Cassian slurred, his hand reaching for Nesta's chest, but she swiftly slapped his fingers away, glaring at him. "You are not getting the point", Mor sighed. "I'm not dragging you there for a gang bang or to look for someone to drag into your bed", she was perfectly aware that everyone in the family had settled. Solid relationships all around. Well, except for Azriel. Yet that was a whole different story. So Azriel, for that matter, might take full advantage of the place while at it.
"Quite frankly, I doubt anyone who goes there on a Tuesday night is there for a fuck", Mor swirls the red substance in her glass, earning a nod from Emerie, "It's like nothing I've seen before", the female breathed. "We've been trying to figure out what and how they do it, but...", and they had returned with big eyes, disbelief, and satisfaction lingering all over. Did it fuel others' curiosity? Yes. Just to be honest, no one believed it could be anything that could beat one of the sultry numbers in Rita's.
"Fine", Rhys states after silence falls, "Let's go, get this done and over with". Both Nesta and Feyre jump up, going straight for Mor, squealing in excitement. "Darling, if you were that desperate, you should have said", the high lord crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk, but Feyre only shrugged, "We would have gone with or without you boys, sorry". Cassian lets out a grumble as he too gets up from the comfy sofa, "If my head and nuts ain't blown away by the end of this...", Everyone chuckles, even Nesta has a smirk on her face. It's Azriel who has a tight frown on his, however. "Prepare for disappointment, brother", the shadow singer says, downing his glass of whiskey swiftly. "If you'll be a grumpy ass, don't bother going, Azriel", Mor stated firmly. Azriel knew that no one could come between her and her night. That was a well tested fact. He felt Elain reaching for his hand, and a part of him wanted to drop it because it just didn't feel right tonight. But he didn't, because being the only one without someone to return home to was painful enough.
When they finally got there the place was jam-packed. Azriel unleashed his shadows. Doing a quick safety check never hurts. After all, the whole family was here. So he had to make sure there was no harm around the corner. To his surprise, his shadows recognized a lot of noble members of Velaris. Scratch that there were day court and autumn males here. The back table was occupied by Helion. "Rhys", Azriel said directly through his high lord's mental shields. Azriel could tell that Rhys too had clocked on to the fact that this was attracting too much attention. Attention they didn't know was brewing here. "Listen around; count the names", The order was clear enough, so Azriel did just that. How long did Mor knew about all of this and said nothing? Fucking Mor, Azriel grumbled in his head.
Just before Azriel could unleash yet another set of his shadows, the place fell into complete darkness. Some squeals of surprise echoed around the room, followed by laughter and murmuring. The cool mist started streaming from the platform right in front of the tables. The first sounds of the music silenced everyone. A huge moon light up the place, dashing the yellow gleam all over, and the silhouettes of what Azriel assumed were the females who performed here come into view.
"You are so beautiful to me", the most velvet voice sang out, and Azriel's heart stopped for a second. His whole attention was now on the stage. The black fabrics fall from the ceiling, and bodies dressed in deep satin lingerie twist around them. Ahs and ohs fall from the people watching, but Azriel's eyes are not leaving the figure in the middle. "You are so beautiful to me. Can't you see?", it lulls. The anticipation of seeing the face behind the voice was so intense that it nearly drove Azriel out of his seat. He's so lost in it that voice he doesn't even notice that the female is the one twirling her hands and sending ripples of mist to swirl around almost everyone in the room. The gleam caresses people's faces, twirling their hair.
"You're everything I hoped for", nor does Azriel feel the same mist crawling up his arms. Slowly. Soothingly. "You're everything I need". His breath hitches in his throat as he feels the softest fingers touching his jaw. "You are so beautiful timo me" Because the smallest of stars start falling across the room, and it's enough to cast a spell of light over your face. The deep blue eyes looking straight at him. The deepest blue he had ever seen, and what a blue it was. And your hair is so wavy and long. Ocean green dances there. Hints of the deep purple of the waves But are you looking at him? Is that your finger touching him? There's no one else in the room. Azriel sees no one all of a sudden. It's just you and him. And you're singing. Singing so beautifully that he's ready to rip his heart out of his chest and serve it on a platter for you.
And then it all ends with the booming sound of music. His eyes follow your twirling body, dancing among the other females. One minute you're there, and then you're gone. Azriel jumps up from his chair before his vision becomes clear again, and he's back in the room full of people. The fact that he had just jumped up like that made a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He turns his head to the side, where Elain is pressing tissues to her dress, and sees a fallen glass right by the edge of the table. He must have knocked it over.
"Yep, I came internally", Cassian states and that's when Azriel's eyes fall over his family. Everyone's eyes are hazy. As if all they had done all night was smoke hallucinogenic herbs. It's Rhys, though, whose eyes are sharp as he catches Azriel's gaze. "Fucking told you", Mor is leaning against her hand, looking at the stage longingly. "Fucking told you".
Get them out and back to the house. Meet me here in twenty. Back door. No weapons. Rhysand's voice pierces Azriel's mind, and all he can do is nod before his high lord turns to his mate. Brushing a strand of hair from her face. He leans in to kiss her, and Azriel quickly lowers his eyes. And then Rhys is up. His darkness wrapped tightly around him as he moved through the crowd.
Azriel winnows back to the pleasure house after what feels like a good long while. Making sure everyone was safe and sound was harder than he had imagined. Rhys is not by the backside. But his shadows quickly informed him of the path to the basement steps. Basement. A shiver ripples down his back, but he still steps forward until he can hear Rhy's voice loud and clear.
"We paid our taxes", a female voice rings out. Azriel can't see her yet, but from her tone, he's sure that she's smiling. "You and I both know it's not about the money", Rhys says calmly as Azriel slips through the shadows on the back wall.
"I'm glad to see you here finally, though", the lady purrs, her long gray hair twisted into a big braid, resting neatly against her chest. "I thought you were too ashamed". Azriel can feel a wave of tension rising in the room. "Myriam, don't push my buttons", Rhys warns her, but she only smirks. "Or what? You'll get me close?" Azriel is about to step into the room, but Rhys mentally tells him off. "Where's the girl?", he pushes, but Myriam continues as if she hadn't even heard him, "You do know that any other court will welcome me and my girls with open arms?".
Azriel lets his shadows swirl through the cracks in the room. Trying to scan through the rooms behind the lady's back. But he doesn't get far. Most of them are so deeply drenched in magic that Azriel doesn't recognize. The shadow singer frowns, watching his shadows struggle. Leaping away from the door as if whatever that was there hurt them.
Rhys lets out a deep sigh, "You're right," and Azriel's head jerks to his high lord instantly. What the hell was Rhys agreeing to all of a sudden? "I apologize, but you have to understand that I wasn't informed that we had such beauty in my city", Rhys steps closer to the table. Reaching for the bottle placed there. "I'm a jealous man; what can I say", he states, refilling Myriam's glass before taking a swing straight from the bottle himself. "Rhys, you know I'm willing to share. But it was you who dismissed me the first time", the woman says, and now Azriel's head is turning once again. First time? Dismissed her? What in the love of a mother was going on here?
"It's late now, but let's set a date for a meeting. I want to revisit this", Rhys says, smiling at Myriam, and she instantly returns the smirk. Hand reaching to play with the collar of Rhysand's shirt, "I knew that you would come to your senses", lifting her glass closer to her lips she settles on watched Rhys for a moment, "Just remember that I'm the one who has the wining card here".
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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel imagien#shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you
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Hello! Drabble event request: number 2, Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth with Jason Todd please :)
Drabble Event: "Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth." x Jason Todd
Warnings: Angst. Mentions of past non con. Dub con. Character death kind of. smut. Dark Jason. 18+
WC: 600
In the back of your head you had felt glad that he was gone, finally at peace without Jason Todd breaking into your room as he took you as he pleased, whether you were willing or not. But the other side of you was devastated, still mourning the Jason you once knew, the best friend that you would now definitely never be able to see again.
Because he was dead.
But the memory of him was haunting your days and nights like some sort of fever dream you couldn't escape. Even when you moved out of the manor, you felt his presence still looming over you, tormenting your very being. The ghost of his fingers pressing against your skin and those lingering kisses that you pretended with every ounce of your body you hated.
After a whole year, you realised you couldn't escape him, even if he was dead, his memory still carried on. At least that's what you believed as you stumbled into your apartment after a long shift at the station. Until you noticed the figure in your room dressed in a familiar black and red suit, one you had told about at work, the infamous red hood attire.
But as the man turned around, a large grin on his face, your fear turned into pure shock.
"Miss me?" Jason asked, teeth smiling at you like some sort of predator.
Within minutes you were pressed face down on the mattress, your ass sticking up for Jason's perverse nature as his hands groped at your bare skin. You were trembling, goose bumps littering your skin whenever his finger tips grazed it.
"I knew you would of missed me but I didn't realise how much," Jason chuckled darkly, fingers poking at your drenched folds.
"You're insane," you barked at him, feeling a mix of emotions.
The slap against your cunt is harsh, full of the rage of not being able to see you for so long like it was your fault. It makes you grip onto the sheets in front of you, squealing at the impact as he does it again.
"Fuck," you hissed, biting on your bottom lip to keep your noises in. "I hate you." There's a edge of sadness to your tone, tears buried deep from your time apart and you knew he could sense it.
"You miss me. I mean you're already coating my fingers." He's all smugness behind you, relishing the way his touch makes you crumble so easy before him.
"No, I don't." Your words are choked in your throat and you find yourself pushing back tears to hide your overwhelming emotions.
"Lie to yourself all you want but your body always tells the truth," Jason said, fingers sliding in to your walls. You clench around him, sucking him in greedily and holding him there in hopes he wouldn't leave. "See."
"You left me here," the tears have escaped, sliding down your face. There's no fighting the truth now.
In one swift motion he has you flipped onto your back, caging your body with his as hovers over you.
You try to hide your face, lip quivering as you look to the side. But Jason pinched your chin, turning your face to him as he looks down at you with a knowing smirk.
"Is my pretty girl crying over me," he taunted, thumb gliding over your cheek to wipe your tears in what should be a loving motion.
"Fuck you," you let out in a sob, biting your tongue as his cock slid against your pussy.
"I missed you too," he told you, eyes softening at your face. He slid himself into your walls, making you wince slightly at the pleasurable stretch.
Your hands reached out to cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist wishing to keep him there forever.
"I won't ever leave you again," he whispers against your lips, rolling his hips into yours as he eases you into. "I promise."
You eat up his words with your lips, closing the distance between you as you become malleable in his hold.
He would never leave you again because you wouldn't let him.
#squirmsdrabbleevent#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd smut#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood smut#jason todd x female reader#yandere red hood
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billy butcher and addiction--
felt there's a need for a good and proper analysis for this fucker (as well as i can manage, maybe throw in a bit of a rant on poor fandom etiquette, 'three laws of fandom' are an oldie but a goodie lol) so here we go i guess--
i wanna start by saying this is a full scope character deep dive (sortaish?? best i can do take it or leave it--lol i might go further in depth on specific scenes or whatnot later, i'm longwinded but i'm tryin' to condense as best i can for this, aaaaaaaaaaand long long post ahead--) that def includes elements solidly confirmed in dear becky and probably leans more on comics billy overall, but def does intertwine and interlock with show billy (as they are essentially the same, garth ennis' own words went something like 'he's a perfect billy butcher' lol)
i'll try to avoid spoilers (??) for the most part like dear becky, but there are some things that may need more context (there is quite a bit of in the show that works well enough to represent anyway but i guess we'll see how this goes, i may end up talking more about the show elements and how they parallel with comics billy anyway)
i also think it's worth mentioning that there's a lot to billy (especially in the comic) i feel fandom either ignores, dismisses or doesn't want to acknowledge, or just doesn't notice.
whether from personal bias/prejudice, desire (fitting billy into that 'alpha's alpha' toxic masculinity 'dom top' fever dream 'mold' so to speak, probably--no, definitely the *worst* way to interpret and easiest way bungle up his character, it completely misses the fact that billy has built *that* 'daddy approved' version of himself as a *facade* to *hide* his own shame and insecurity, and he is *so* much more complex than that nonsense (and genuinely uncomfortable and unhappy being that way-beyond the subtle guilt of a constant high). can we talk about the ways in which fandoms promote and perpetuate toxic masculinity--what, no time we'll be here all week?? oh, okay. jesus fucking christ that is exactly as bad if not worse than the maga chud interpretation and unironic worship of homelander--), lack of personal experience/familiarity, understanding--fuck it, even lack of education in media analysis or reading comprehension (if not both), and *especially* being pro-censorship/americentric/*stuck* with purity culture blinders (or even some part of them lingering)
all of those can def make media (and characters like billy) that isn't 'cookie cutter america-approved' fairly difficult to understand or accept (i guess??)
i've seen so much listed to hell and back in attempts to describe comics billy. 'he's a piece of shit' *YES*. 'he's just wish fulfillment for the author's hatred of superheroes' *no*??? let me not get into the complete hypocrisy of someone who writes or enjoys fanfic--the epitome of *wish fulfilment*--unironically complaining about other authors doing this and thinking it's a legit complaint. how does *anyone* read the entire story and come to *that* conclusion???
did you even bother reading the comic? no, i don't mean glossing over it with a completely closed mind while actively ignoring and dismissing everything important put in front of you and designed to make you think because the blood and guts or other is too distracting apparently, i mean *actually* reading it thoroughly and making an effort to think about what's being presented and why, waiting for the drop *instead* of jumping to judge (as is the american way)
and to some degree, i get it. i wouldn't say this comic is the easiest to digest (especially if completely unfamiliar with many of the themes presented, even the show has sparked some ass takes and interpretations) there's also plenty of common misconceptions, one in particular about garth ennis 'hating' superheroes. this is actually not true, what he hates is how the superhero *genre* has bottlenecked the comics industry and what is more likely to see success in it (and as a fellow creative, i completely understand how frustrating that would be, his main interest is actually war stories)
it's def one thing to say, 'nah, i don't vibe with the style' or 'it's not really for me/my taste but it's fine if others like it', i get that, satire and horror aren't for everyone. honest critique is fair even.
but it is a whole 'nother thing entirely to pretend your own personal tastes are *the only 'correct' creative law* and then *vehemently* oppose or hate something an artist created and denounce, harass, or fuck--dehumanize the people who enjoy it, if not the artists who work(ed) on it.
i'm sorry, this is a tangent cause it's def not limited to the hate the boys comics or ennis gets *at all*, it's especially prevalent in *literal* kids media like teen titans go where the thing in question is simply put--*NOT MADE FOR THE SHITHEADS NONSTOP COMPLAINING ABOUT IT* when they can literally, *LITERALLY* just *accept* that they weren't the *target audience* and move the fuck on with their day, happy as can be. *instead* of shitting on something *or the people who like it* to make literal *children* or other people feel bad about liking it.
it's one thing to try and educate people or have discourse and discussion, it is another entirely to *bully* them over something so *stupid* as *fiction*.
i especially have a problem with this shit when i have *several* artists tell me that they don't feel *safe* or *welcome* being themselves, liking or creating what *they* want to make in a fandom *because* of the fandom attitude and normalization of *hate* within that fandom.
i *thought* fandoms were supposed to be about *love* so what the fuck is this human tribalist false dichotomy bullshit??
and of course, that's not always the case. there is also an unbelievable level of respect that is given to fanartists and fanfiction writers, and that is *beautiful*. 'don't like, don't read'. *PERFECT*. curate your own content, complain or rant in your own spaces--you're entitled to an opinion, but *accept* that it still has a right to exist and other people still have a right to love it (and aren't wrong for that, opinions cannot be objective), *even if you don't like it*. just don't engage then, it's that simple.
now extend that level of courtesy to the people, artists and writers in the industry.
no, i'm not trying to shut down criticism of media, proper critique is how we learn and grow and understand better and in turn *create* better. yes, they can fumble the fucking bag too, especially when adapting something from a source material and--like *some* fanfic writers out there--think they can do it 'way better'.
but the people in the industry? who bend over backwards, going on strike in some cases, breaking their necks to work on and create the things that we *love* and latch onto?
they're people too. and whether the thing they make goes *exactly* how we want or not, however you feel about the money in the entertainment industry (which they see barely a dime of if those fucking strikes and constant mistreatment are any indication), they don't deserve to be treated like scabs.
that mentality of 'not my personal taste = universally bad' and 'anyone who disagrees with my opinion is wrong' is fucking gross and *extremely elitist*, just straight up announcing how pretentious, obtuse, willfully arrogant and ignorant, and *lacking in self awareness*--the number one easiest way to be the *shittiest* kind of artist/writer/critic--you are. it is *exactly* like cishet white men complaining about something being 'bad' because it's 'woke' or has anything *besides* a cishet white man for the protagonist.
*god forbid something isn't tailor made specifically for them.*
swear to gawd, i got a list of different bullshit and circle jerking i've seen all across different fandoms for different reasons. no i'm not mad at any one person in particular, just a little salty from recurring problems and gatekeeping (ghoulfucking-GHOULFUCKING OF ALL THINGS I--I CANNOT) if not straight up bullying (does it really make a bitch feel *so* much better to try and hurt other people for liking what they, and let's be honest, are not willing to give the time of day?) in fandoms. (the complete audacity of people to complain about a media being 'childish' or 'bad' because 'insert nonsensical trivial bullshit here that holds no weight because it's personal taste if not flat out wrong and not actual critique' and then turn around and throw the biggest fucking tantrums about it--let me not get into the whole sharon carter debacle jesus christ--)
same shit. different pile.
also, fuck me. i keep *forgetting* that genuinely valid critique (*not* personal taste/opinion, proper critique pertains to things like techniques used, composition, narrative consistency and plot holes, goals of the artist/writer, accomplishments of those goals, etc.) is something that needs proper education and understanding all on its own which not a whole ton of people get or even know, which just goes to show--i'm a dumbass too. (but i won't deny that plenty of 'critics' are full of shit and *know* this but use their 'personal taste' as 'critique' *anyway* because... they enjoy being complete assholes and discouraging other artists i guess.)
y'all, take a class or two in art critique and literature analysis. you'll learn all the cool lingo (to later forget if you're like me~), and maybe (hopefully) walk out with a bit more of an open mind wanting to encourage more art in the world, even if you don't personally like it. take a moment to *listen* to differing opinions in their *entirety* and you might even gain a new perspective.
*no one* should be ashamed to ask questions or admit they don't know or understand something and fuck the people that would make you feel that way. *we can and should help each other.*
but stagnant or hostile fandoms with no self awareness and perpetuated elitism circle jerks? *really* fucking shameful, regardless of the form or where they are.
ANYWHO--
ugh, fuck. okay. i think i'm done with that tangent, back on topic--
BILLY BEAN~<3
and i want to reiterate that *again*, dear becky *does* confirm pretty much everything i'm going to discuss here tho technically speaking, nothing is spoiled here as it's just reiterating what is implicit (if not stated outright) throughout the series.
as far as dear becky goes, it's a good final gut-wrenching piece to the series and i loved it, but it definitely leaned on more of 'tell' instead of 'show, don't tell' (no duh in context, but probably because the rest of the comic did the 'show'--very well imo but it still flew over peoples' heads and made them misplace their brains--i'm sorry, i've just lost so much patience for the lack of reading comprehension and media literacy, but honestly? ennis is genuinely too good at knowing how to spark a strong emotional reaction in readers. and can we talk about the dense mofos that *make* authors have to 'tell' just to confirm something that is heavily implied--what, no time? oh, fuck, fine.)
OKAY--
addiction.
what about it, and why am i mentioning it. well. because if it's not clear by now, william butcher is an addict.
and it is one of, if not the core element that drives him to do what he does.
not becky or becca. not justice.
addiction.
and i don't mean traditional substance abuse (though he admits there has been as much in his life, especially with alcohol, his drug of choice is a bit more complex and maybe not so easy to spot on the surface for those unfamiliar with addiction).
in the show, we even see him mention that he's 'done 'em all' and there's *nothing* like temp v--and it's because temp v *amplifies* his *addiction* to the highest level it could exist on.
something else to note, there's a ton of stigma and widespread (ableist) misconception surrounding addiction still (which may be part of why people may not want to recognize it in billy), but it is absolutely a clinical mental disorder and people who suffer from it should be treated as *medical patients*, not reduced to violent criminals and scumbags. (fuck you drug war and prohibition, you are the root of organized crime and you're racist as shit.) it's also possible to become addicted to *anything*. and i mean *anything*.
if you can repeat a behavior and your brain no longer cares whether or not that behavior is causing you harm because there is a *compulsive* urge for that *repetition* or a specific result from it? that is addiction. money, anger, pain, violence, self harm, attention, love...
you'd think the last one might be okay, but it's not. it's an easy way to get caught in the infinite loop of an abusive relationship, just with promise of it. no delivery necessary.
but it doesn't have to be drugs that cause addiction. hell, gambling addiction is a thing all it's own that can get *incredibly* severe.
and listen, too much of *anything* can be horrible for you. fucking coconut will give you the runs if you eat too much that shit is *not* fun pun intended--
i digress.
in billy's case? he's actually addicted to two i just listed.
violence. and self harm.
i mentioned before that what drives billy has next to nothing to do with what happened to becky or becca.
there's a common misconception that, at the end of the day, billy does have some level of good intent behind his actions, and to a degree this is true in the *complete reverse* of what people often assume, and this is proven repeatedly in both the show (with just what we have seen) and comic (where its laid out too heavily to ignore).
setting aside the fact that there's *never* a good 'rEaSoN' to commit or even attempt *genocide* (EVER. i have ZERO patience for the constant apologism of this bullshit, SWEAR TO GAWD FANDUMB--) and billy's genocidal tendencies on their own, the idea that 'he goes after homelander for becca' or 'justice' has been completely debunked.
'justice is not vengeance'
something to always keep in mind.
but... in the first season? hughie called him out on this.
butcher calls him a 'disgrace to robin's memory', and hughie--bless his little heart, responds with 'i think i'm doing this *for* her.'
it's an interesting response, because hughie is essentially saying--
'you'll *die* for this woman, but that's not what she would have wanted. i'm going to *live* for robin, and for *annie*, because *that's* what she would have wanted.'
and he's absolutely right. billy loved becca, would have died for her. but he refuses to listen and *live* for her.
the group therapist too even before hughie. she literally laid it all out, front and center in the clearest way possible, 'it's a defense mechanism', and then butcher had his little meltdown just before telling hughie about becca, everything he can, including *using* other peoples tragedies and his own *specifically* to manipulate hughie and try and make sure *starlight* can't *save* him from what butcher is trying to turn him into.
*so that hughie stays stuck on his reason to die, instead of finding one to live.*
in the second season, *becca* herself calls him out on this, multiple times.
'you put me on this pedestal but i never knew how to save you'.
'--i didn't come to you, i went to vought--.'
and that's just it, becca (and becky in the comic) is *intimately* familiar with billy's *addiction* and the underlying mental health issues he *wouldn't address*. she didn't tell him what happened even after the shock of it because she *knew* that it would just become a reason for billy to *give in* and be his worst self to a degree where she would *lose him* regardless of what she felt or asked for from him.
she felt she had to *suffer in silence* to *protect him* from *himself*, something that ends up *destroying* her.
becca wanted to *save* billy, but more importantly, she wanted *him* to *save himself* because she *believed in him*, *so much*.
'i never wanted that for you.'
she doesn't want billy to drown and suffer or cause harm in his own hatred and addictions. she *loved* him so much so, that she was willing to *drown herself* if it meant she could save *him*. she loved him *too much*.
billy's mum too, even tries to help in her own way. (she is much less aware of billy's activity in the comic, but we'll come back to her. for the show, this was likely in response to seeing the news about *stillwell*, something his dad fucking *praised* him for)
'--that he wouldn't have this hold on you--'
billy's actions are almost entirely driven by the *addiction* his father forced on him. on doing the things that would make his 'daddy' *proud*. and the thing is, he's *fully aware* of this.
he constantly *says* that *becca* is his 'reason', that she was his *cure*, but she's the *excuse*. his *new addiction* and *self medication* (also billy, you fucking cunt you *know* what you do and have no leg to stand on when it comes to self medicating--)
both in the worst of what he does and his rejection of addressing his own traumas, and she is *unwilling* in this endeavor. she never wanted this hate to consume him, she never wanted all of this death with her name as the signature, *she never wanted billy to be his father*, much less be something much worse.
he even admits as much in the third season when he hallucinates lenny who tells him his actions would 'break becca's heart'
billy responds something along the lines of 'becca's dead, it doesn't matter what she thinks'. (a line presented in the comic even more harshly, but it drives the point home perfectly.)
when he sees lenny again in his nightmare--
'i'm not that bastard--.'
'come off it billy, you always have been. cause anyone who's ever loved you, you end up gettin' 'em killed, don't ya--.'
'--the last person on god's green earth tryin' to stop you from bein' a monster, and what do you do? drag him down to your level... when he dies... and he will... then no can stop you.'
OOF OUCH OWIE--. the lenny stuff hits so damn hard but it represents *perfectly* what butcher's own *internalized beliefs* are.
mallory calls him out on it literally every season.
'--but billy! not the others!'
'it's like asking a cockroach to not be a cockroach--'
'--because it wouldn't stop with just homelander--'
'this was never about ryan or becca, it was always selfish. the hate inside that you want to let loose on the world.'
'--i was wrong... you are your father, always have been...'
and then there's billy's subsequent impulsive reaction to push ryan away, and *be his father*.
but hell, even in gen v when mallory is speaking to shetty.
and truthfully, billy was even showing *withdrawal* symptoms at the beginning of the third season.
billy himself, even *self punishes*, picking fights he knows he *won't* win as a way to counterbalance *and* satisfy his own addiction, infinite loop. vicious cycle.. (ooh i will def be coming back to the big one here--), and we see this in one *HUGE* way, and in many many smaller ways, but even in the more literal sense of going to bars, starting trouble, and laughing or smiling when he's getting beat the fuck up or *losing*.
it's even highlighted in the show, billy *seeking out violence* and conflict whether he should or not, *especially* when unnecessary. getting his own face busted up and smiling because of it is something that happens multiple times in the comic (even on accident in one instance), and is def given a place in the show. it's easy to pass off as billy simply being a masochist (which is def true lmao he does admit as much), but there's also more to it than that and it goes hand in hand with his *addiction* and--
what he thinks he deserves.
billy *hates himself* so *severely* that he actually *does not believe* that he is capable of the *good* that others, such as lenny, becca, his mum, and hughie are willing to *see* in him. he *completely* believes it when others say that 'he is his father' (internalizes it, struggles with it, and frequently acts on it).
he puts on a show. bravado, posture, and 'confidence'. and he's so good at putting on that front, that he can fool himself, even for a moment. and those that believe it will even *enable* him. and the people he feels *nothing* for? again, he maintains the front. he lives his life *masking*, *faking it*--so fucking hard. homelander could never--
and it's not even necessarily the result of toxic masculinity. don't get me wrong, he def has some issues with that lingering (y'all, if you have *say* you're an 'alpha' and posture out your sweet little ass off 24/7, you're def *not* an 'alpha' lmfao), but it's more so his own *trauma* that forces him to *cling* to that.
but when he *loves*, and he loves *deeply*, he completely rolls over and shows his belly like a kitten<3... when he was with becky, he was happy and comfortable, and all of that *ridiculousness* just melted away completely... he didn't feel any need for it because he felt *safe*, because this constant *insecurity* and feeling of being *threatened* all the damn time looming overhead had suddenly cleared up with becky there.
it's not even so much that billy doesn't feel fear. he might not traditionally (at all if his amygdala is damaged), but considering the fight or flight response, billy's *default* setting literally *is* that *fight* response. he's the way he is because he is *always* afraid and he's been conditioned for it to manifest itself as *rage*.
we see bits of his love come through in a few moments he has with people he has genuine care for. (the way he loves his mum and she instantly calms him down is genuinely so sweet.)
but it's always gonna come back down to 'daddy dearest'.
because of him, *billy is afraid of living*.
and--
his father. *is proud of him*.
billy is *just like him* or *everything he wanted to be* as a *man*, or at least is compelled to *project* this on the surface. and everything in *billy* that *is* his father, *just like him*, is *everything* that billy *hates*. so it manifests into an *intense* self loathing and spiraled addiction that magnifies the worst of what his father *forced* on him.
he *doesn't want* to be *his father*, but he feels, and fully believes that *he already is*. his self hatred is another form of *hating his father*, because *he is that man's legacy*.
so *billy* doesn't *believe* that he deserves love or goodness or care from other people (a parallel we see in homelander, presented a bit differently.) so he 'doesn't care'. makes excuses to not care (about people in general, if not just the very *prominent* antisocial tendencies), or leave, or push them away, lashing out to give *them* the excuse to leave him, because he is *afraid* and in his own mind, *unworthy*.
he's *afraid* of being loved, of *losing* that love, of *hurting* those he loves. he is *afraid* of being his own father.
but it's all he's ever known, all he's ever been *conditioned* to be. intoxicated, ever present, it's this terrible thing that destroys him but he *can't* stop. *addiction*.
and what better way to protect those he loves than to keep himself as *far* away from them as possible? than to *make* them hate him. than to do the *wrong* thing, to *disappoint* them. self sabotage. self punishment.
he can't stop himself. he deserves it.
lather, rinse, repeat.
so what does that mean for homelander, or even the reason he goes after homelander? the *real* reason.
'there must be *some* good in him because homelander 'must be' this 'ultimate evil that *must* be stopped', right?
not really. he's a symptom of a much greater evil, but he was never the root of it. if billy really wanted to solve the problems at hand and get *justice*, he'd go after *vought*, NOT homelander.
homelander is not even the real villain in *billy's* mind, in all actuality.
what homelander *is*?
temptation.
he is... the *ultimate* final high for billy. in terms of addiction to both *violence* and *self punishment*.
he doesn't actually go after homelander because he wants to 'stop him' or even kill him. not really. there are times billy starts a fight *expecting* to *lose*, *wanting* it. homelander *is* one of those times to the most intense degree that billy could find. and he even senses this when they first meet--unnecessarily, privately insulting the man because why?
because he feels *threatened*. because he feels *insecure*. because if homelander is *truly good*, even with *all that power*--
then billy has no fucking excuse--
it is, in essence, the same exact reaction that lex luthor has to superman. forcing himself to *challenge* him because of a *constant* sense of *fear*. (except lex *is* afraid of dying, so 1000% a huge coward lmao--)
but~, when he finds out homelander is *bad*?
homelander is billy's *failsafe*
to stop the person he feels is the most terrible evil of all *and* to set the world on fire in the process. a way for billy to kill two birds with one stone. compelled by his addiction to *chase* this ideation relentlessly.
homelander is to billy--his ultimate end, self punishment, a death wish, a *suicide attempt*.
and a way to *unleash his hatred onto the rest of the world*, *to make it burn*, even after his death. (this would be why despite many many MANY warnings to *not* push homelander *because of the catastrophe this will ultimately instigate and the loss of life this is bound to result in*--billy does not give a shit about the potential consequences. he welcomes them--)
if homelander were a *nuke*, billy would want to *launch* him. right now, homie is more like the *demon core*, incredibly dangerous and in some instances lethal, but not *yet* explosive.
billy *wants* the *warhead*.
it was why he got *so excited* at the *chance* of homelander offering him 'scorched earth'.
the man read billy like an open fucking book, and set the bait--
y'all, in other words, homie straight up went to billy's house and offered *crack* to the *crack addict*--fuck yeah he's gonna take that offer!
homelander never actually perceives billy as a real threat *at all* (safe to say, this is the main reason he doesn't kill him. there's a bit of personal complex combined with the deals/blackmail/request involved, but this would also be why he doesn't *hesitate* to 'kill' billy at herogasm. he genuinely gives no fucks about this poor man or his many anal complexes and daddy issues beyond the mild entertainment he gets from him and just how *easy* it is to read billy or rile him up. maybe a *dash* of novelty being found in billy's obsession with him. i'll go into the homie side of things in depth maybe someday soon lol but for now--)
and here's the thing, homelander isn't the *only* failsafe. he is simply the *ultimate failsafe*
included in all the possible bad habits billy has is pawning off his *responsibility* and personal accountability, even his *will to do good* onto others.
i mentioned before that becca (becky) was like a new addiction for him. and she was. in a sense, billy was using her to self medicate. she loved him, gave him love and made him feel good, no pain, no shame--but also no pause to think about that pain, self hatred and self doubt and actively address it. she was a way to not worry about his own *goodness* because she was an *easy* reason for him to *want* to be good.
and something important to note?
billy feels that he has *cheated* on becca/becky *since* the day she left/died. (there's a whole ass deliciously intricate story there but i'm trying to avoid the spoilers lmao. kind of a freebie hint i guess.)
lenny and hughie similarly make an effort to *hold butcher back* and reach out to him. (everyone does honestly, but not everyone is so successful with it). and butcher lets them, but *also* removes the agency of his own choice in the matter.
he doesn't just *let them* make him *good*, he doesn't believe he's capable of stopping himself on his own--but he believes in *them* because they *are* good, *truly good*.
hughie all on his own is *another kind of failsafe* and lo and behold, even calls butcher out on this by the end of the third season (theme is prevalent in the comic a lil different but again spoilers lol):
'i don't think you want to do this. i think you want me to stop you.'
*ding*ding*ding*!
nail on the head, hughie... butcher does not believe he can stop himself. so he sets up *failsafes* to do as much.
and let me just say, it is *unbelievably* shitty of him to do that, to pawn off the responsibility of his own behavior, whether good or pure evil onto other people. but i get it. and it fucking breaks my heart for him.
because *that* is addiction. it feels like mind control. aggressive compulsion. you feel ashamed, and hate yourself, and don't care if you hurt yourself or even others. but you keep *hoping*, *wishing*, *leaving a breadcrumb trail* so that *someone*, *anyone*, will come along and--
*save you. from you.*
and when you stop believing in yourself, in your own willpower to fight against this *thing* that just completely *destroys* you from the inside out... without *anyone* on your side, what else is left to do but to numb the pain?
i was able to recognize billy's addiction right off the bat because i've *been* to a lot of the places he has been. including the addiction. and he makes me so *fucking* mad because it's like seeing a version of myself *still stuck*, *still lost*, *still trapped* by my own issues and self loathing, and all of the abuse i've gone through--
and the biggest fuck up, the biggest *abuser* is me.
i can't *escape* me. *no one* can escape *themself*.
that fucker breaks my heart to pieces because *i have been there*, and i know just how fucking hard it is to *be* there, just how much harder it is to *get out* and start to *learn*--*who is it you really wanna be? who are you without this drug?*
and something he even says in the comics on a few occasions is--
'i'm not really here, i'm somewhere else watching this happen'
asserting that he *truly* believes that he has *no control* over *what* he is. (in contrast with homelander, who feels the weight of something similar but more literally in some regard, and in relation to so many other aspects in his life with the world around him.)
billy butcher *is* the *true villain* of *his own story*
of his own making.
he's not after homelander or even vought. he doesn't blame society or even his father at this point. he blames himself. and he's *given up* entirely on fighting himself. he's looking for his *overdose*.
*that's homelander*
ain't that a kick in the head...
it's part of what makes their relationship and dynamic so incredibly electric and titillating. it's got nothing to do with becca or becky.
butcher sees homelander as an easy way out. as a way to control the narrative, *maintain his own*, and *stop the bad guy* without bringing someone *good*, like *hughie*, down to his level.
he *sees* the parallels, a kindred spirit. he *knows* the potential. and he wants to be the *spark* to light all that *gasoline*.
because then it won't be his fault anymore. his *guilt*. he'll have passed on his *curse*.
likewise, he actually goes after supes in general for a similar enough reason, and it ties in with why he *doesn't* go after vought directly.
billy actually *likes* the status quo. to a degree, *needs* it, *needs vought*
because *vought* is the *creator* of his *supply*, feeding this addiction. and we hear billy say this in both the comic and show--
'with great power comes the absolute certainty that you'll turn into a right cunt.'
and billy actually believes this--about himself.
when he says it about other supes and even his intense hatred of them, it is a *projection* of his own issues and what he believes to be true for himself (that he would do the absolute worst thing imaginable given the opportunity). and in a way, going after them is in some ways a metaphor for stopping and destroying himself, hating himself, as much as it is a way to maintain his addiction.
and--
maintain the narrative he has built--that he is the true villain.
and if that's the case, well... it takes a *hero* to stop a *villain*, right?
but also--y'all remember that scene in the suicide squad where polkadot man imagines everyone as his mum? how he imagines starro as his mum?
yeah, that.
that's basically billy. every fucking supe, including starlight, and kimiko, and let's *really* not talk about what this means about him sleeping with maeve in context with his 'supe=daddy' issues, but even the person he sees in the mirror. *all of them* are *his father*.
listen, i'm not kidding. billy's daddy issues are seriously severe, so fucking bad, i--
his actions aren't for becca or becky or ryan or justice. even he *knows* that's bullshit and admits as much (which just makes fandom denying it that much more fucked). but they're not even *just because* or because he's genocidal, antisocial, or anything else. he *does* want someone to stop him. he's sane enough to recognize his actions for what they truly are *behind* the mask.
billy's actions are a volatile and violent *cry for help*, because he never learned how to *ask*, or even how to *believe in himself*.
he never truly learned that *he never had to be his father*, and he didn't *need* becky or becca, lenny or hughie to *be good*.
i actually think billy's greatest magic trick is convincing even the audience and readers that he is a *total*, complete piece of shit. and don't get me wrong, he is *def* a huge, massive, incredibly rank and ripe piece of shit--.
and y'all, i'm sorry if you believed him and got played like a damn fiddle, him and homie def throwin' in some hard balls--
but he's also still human. he also still needs just as much if, honestly? maybe even more, fucking *help* than homelander. which kind of draws back into their parallels. the tomfoolery of fandom might have you believe that billy is less complex or more put together than homelander, but their situations go hand in hand and the evidence suggests (if not confirms) something quite different.
billy's plight and even goal in some sense is *convincing the rest of his world that he is a monster*. driven by the addiction his father gave him. enabled by the world around him.
homelander's? it's actually the complete opposite. his struggle is with *his world convincing him that he is a monster*, and in turn, against his own instincts, *growing* into that role. when in reality, he never got the chance to decide for himself, it was decided *for* him a long long time ago.
'i think, therefore i am.'
'i can, therefore i must.'
however, *our actions cannot define who we are, because we can choose our actions*. good or bad are not something you inherently *are*, they are something you *choose to do*.
it paints what in turn becomes quite the brutal and tragic picture when these two forces meet. homelander and billy are both of the mindset that they *don't have a choice*.
and this bit is a bit more of a personal thought, but regarding billy's mum, she was *becky*. she was sweet, and kind, and cared for her family more than anything. *it didn't matter what she suffered, she was willing to drown if it meant saving the people she loved*.
as much as i adore how cute becca and billy were, i don't think she would have saved him.
i think the implication is that she would have either 'drowned' trying and become his mum, history repeating itself in a vicious cycle as billy spread his disease to any child they could have.
or that she would have lost her mind. and in turn *become* the person billy spread his disease to, if not another enabler for him. if not billy's choice of drug, maybe she would have taken up something else and eventually overdosed. i would even say the show implies this outcome with both becca and hughie, as the more butcher pushes--the more worn down they get.
if you put enough pressure on someone--they break.
becca was *good* for him. but billy was so, so fucking *bad* for her.
it begs the question of whether or not billy *is* right, if he really is this monster, *fated* to become his father in the worse of ways. of whether or not it's too late for him.
he's certainly not 'normal' or 'right' or 'good' or even an 'anti-hero'. at best, you could maybe call him an 'anti-villain', he is meant to be the deuterantagonist.
it def doesn't help that every time he has the *chance* to do the right thing, *someone* goes and enables him, gives him a reason to do the *wrong* thing.
fucking maeve in that last episode of the third season. but she's def not the only one, and def not the only time. (and yes, if it wasn't clear enough, being completely fucking indifferent to killing *thousands* of people to go after *one* fucking guy is in fact, the *wrong* thing to do.)
butt.
rewatching the scenes with lenny and billy's reaction, and even the final fight, showed something of a *possible* silver lining.
billy *enjoys* rejecting his father. actually pretty fucking greatly if we're being honest. generally speaking, it's when he *rejects* his father and everything that man represents that billy is at his *happiest* (lmao the epitome of an unfulfilled submissive sweetheart and bratty bossy bottom~<3<3<3)
there's a moment, where soldier boy says something along the lines of--
'--fuck you. you're weaker than he is.'
in regards to homelander. it's sort of glossed over, but this is billy's reaction to essentially being called a 'disgrace' so to speak by a toxic 'alpha male'.
y'all see that? it's a smile. lmao a smirk.
this is a moment where billy is protecting *ryan* and keeping his promise to becca. it's a moment where billy is *doing the right thing*, all on *his own* (mostly lol i'm sure there's a roundabout way to justify it in his head). and i think that's key.
it's not just a moment he's proud of himself and has a legitimate fucking reason to be proud of himself, (oh btw, we shoulda *all* been proud of billy in this moment), it's a moment he's *breaking through what his father made him* and his own *addiction*.
and he's doing it *selflessly* and--*without setting that responsibility on another person*.
so we *know* he has it in him, he always has. even becky *in the comic* kept trying to convince billy that *he is capable of good without her*. and again, we actually saw this in the second season when becca and ryan were reunited and billy *changed* his plans, *for becca*, instead of doing the selfish thing and selling ryan back to vought.
but if billy doesn't believe it himself...
i don't think billy is right about himself. but it is very *very* difficult for someone to *correct course* so to speak, once they have their *core beliefs*, lay out their own destiny and start along a *self fulfilling prophecy*, something him and homelander *both* do.
enter ryan.
and suddenly (lol probably in part due to reading dear becky lol), there was a bit of... not so much new, as *confirmed* perspective in play after that rewatch, something to *look* for and ponder in regards to *why* ryan may have been added for this story, a question in mind--
'would it be wrong of *ryan* to want to save his father?'
was it wrong of becca or becky, hughie or lenny, even his mum, to want to save billy?
how would *billy* even begin to answer such questions?
a different answer for the two would be a clear hypocritical bias (which lol i would not put past billy, but i also wouldn't be surprised if he maintained consistent thinking by answering *yes* to both)
. . .
y'all...
i still can't say i'm particularly optimistic about things turning out alright for either gent or ryan, butt~<3
garth ennis literally made the saddest, most pathetic, deliciously sweet, perfectly precious, extra emo tsun tsun baby boi ever, and put him right under our noses.
some a y'all fucking sneezing all over him, straight up sleepin' on all his *best* bits. how are we not utilizing billy butcher *properly~<3<3<3*????
;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
#billy butcher#billy butcher meta#the boys#the boys comics#the boys tv#the boys amazon#butchlander#homelander#ryan butcher#the boys meta#media literacy#reading comprehension#fandom wank#fandom entitlement#garth ennis#tw addiction#tw abuse#psa#long post#fiction is not reality#fiction is fiction#please#never harass or bully people over your own personal preferences in fiction#sad precious emo baby boi
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Blind Faith
Chapter 4: My Accomplice
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Chapter Summary: The Devil of Hell's Kitchen makes you his accomplice. He doesn't like when you joke about danger.
A/N: No warnings for this chapter, unless you count Matt Murdock getting mad a warning.
Again, the POV shifts towards the end. You know it's Matt's POV if he describes his senses and his name is used. If it's Mike, it's the Reader's POV.
Enjoy! <3
Chapter 3 here
Hell’s Kitchen
11:00 PM
The next few nights after your private self-defense class with Mike felt like you were in an endless fever dream.
Like routine, you met him up on the roof. Whether it was before you went out, or before he did, you made the time. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but you liked the thrill of it all. The secret meetings, the whispers in each other’s ears, promises of seeing each other you didn’t even know were going to be fulfilled… until the next night when they were. He showed up like clockwork.
Last Night
“And here I was thinkin’ you just love ‘em and leave ‘em,” you whispered against his lips. Mike interrupted you and chased your lips with a kiss. He held onto your waist firmly and held you in place.
“I don’t love and I don’t leave,” Mike had said in a breathless whisper. He pulled you tighter against him when he spoke. “I do what I want.”
You laughed against his chest. “I know that. You act outside of the law every night. If I had that attitude, I’d do what I want, too.”
“Why do you always bring that up?” Mike smirked. You wiped it off with another kiss.
“What were you thinking, getting involved with a future lawyer?”
He chuckled and kissed you again. He spun you around.
“Technically,” he began, “you know about my illegal activities and haven’t reported me. That makes you my accomplice,” Mike said in a low voice, directly in your ear. You shivered. You didn’t know it was possible, but he held you even tighter.
“Well, fuck,” you said with a smile, “I guess it does, doesn’t it?”
Suddenly, Mike paused. You noticed he did that sometimes, followed by a statement of fact. His attention turned somewhere to the left of you.
“Your friends are looking for you,” he said, “it’s time to go.”
“How do you know? They’re probably drunk already,” you kissed him again. His lips remained on yours, and then he pulled back slowly.
“They are,” he confirmed. “Join them, but don’t drink too much.”
“No promises,” you chuckled.
“Please be safe,” Mike said as he pulled back. You hated how cold you felt whenever he let go of you.
“I will,” you promised, “though why should I be careful when I know you’re out there?”
“Don’t think like that,” he demanded, tightening his mask. You shook your head in amusement before you watched as he climbed over the roof, and into the night.
Present Time
11:30 PM
With Mike in your life now, you couldn’t concentrate on anything.
He was still on your mind even in a loud, dingy bar, like you were now. You were infatuated, for sure. Not everyone could say they were having an affair with a masked vigilante, and absolutely no one could parade that fact aloud. But you liked keeping it a secret. It made it all the more special.
You just wished you could have him here with you, now. But that would never happen. You didn’t even know what he looked like, let alone his real name. Who knew who the real man was behind the mask? Did you even want to know who he was? He certainly knew who you were. He knew your face. You knew he was older than you.
And yet, with all these thoughts floating in your mind and with three vodka-Diet Coke’s in your system, you still danced on the dance floor like nothing was occupying your mind. Emily grabbed your arms to dance with her and you raised your cup in the air, shouting.
“That guy over there is checking you out,” she yelled in your ear. You really couldn’t be less interested, but you looked over to appease her anyway.
There was someone looking at you for sure. He was tall, very handsome with a boyish look. Like boy-next-door vibes, with his light blonde hair and white tee shirt on. Blue jeans. Completely the opposite of your newly discovered type of man-in-black-mask-vigilante-who-won’t-reveal-his-name. You were fully committed to the latter, even though you knew there was no established relationship. Which truthfully, made your heart feel the tiniest heavier.
“Go talk to him,” Emily encouraged.
“I don’t know—“
And before you knew it, you were being pushed through the crowd. It felt wrong to go over to talk to him. You felt guilty.
You stumbled into him, and Emily scurried off. I’ll get her for this.
You stumbled into him so badly, you got a huge whiff of his overpriced cologne. It clogged your nose as you coughed. You drank more of your vodka-Diet Coke to suppress the coughing. He laughed, and without asking placed his hand on your back.
“You okay?” He asked with a chuckle.
You nodded awkwardly, raising your cup again—why do I always do this when I’m drunk?! You placed your cup down and held it with your hands, swishing it around.
“Yeah,” you said, “perfectly A-OK.”
“You wanna dance?”
“Not really,” you answered a little too fast.
He flinched, but then he made a face like he knew what you meant.
“Ohh,” he said, realizing something you were unaware of. “You wanna go outside?”
“Hell no,” you frowned. “I gotta go.”
“But—“
Before he could finish, you ran off to find your friends. You laughed through the crowd and spotted Bella talking to a guy.
“Hey!” She said, “This is Andre.” She gestured to the guy who stood next to her. He had tan skin, and black hair, with a strong jawline. He definitely was easy on the eyes, and definitely right up Bella’s alley.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand. You shook it and introduced yourself.
You weren’t very trusting of any of the guys your friends introduced you to at first, but once you got a feel for their character, you let them in graciously. Andre, throughout the night, proved himself to be a good guy and someone who is good for Bella.
Emily and Hannah found you by the bar, ordering your last vodka-Diet Coke of the night. Emily nudged your elbow and fixed your hair. You smiled at your friends, knowing that your night out was soon coming to an end.
“How’d it go with that guy? Did he ask for your number?” She asked. Hannah also listened intently.
“No,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want it anyway.”
Emily looked a little surprised, “Really? I thought you’d be into him.”
“You thought wrong,” you laughed. It was her turn to shrug.
“Just trying to help,” she said. “We’re ready to go. Our Uber’s almost here.”
Walking outside the bar, you knew there was no way you were getting inside that Uber. For some reason, you felt something in your heart, telling you to stay. It was like you had vigilante senses—you’d bet Mike was here somewhere. You just had a feeling, you couldn’t explain it. Or the alcohol was making you feel dramatic about everything.
All your friends piled in the car, except you.
“What are you doing? Oh God, do you need to throw up?” Emily asked with worry. You shook your head.
“No, I think I’m going to stay,” you told her.
She looked confused, and then she realized something.
“That guy,” she said knowingly, “blonde with blue jeans. I knew he was your type!”
You shrugged. That’ll work. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.”
“Text us if you need us,” Bella shouted. Andre placed a hand on her knee from the passenger seat to quiet her down. Hannah was already knocked out.
“I will,” you answered. You shut the Uber car door and spun around. The music from the club was muffled and people began to shuffle out. You saw the guy Emily tried to set you up with again, but you moved past him quickly. Sorry dude, but you are not who I am looking for.
Taking a wild guess, you turned into the first alley you saw.
And there he was, in all his glory.
~~~
“How the hell did I know you’d be here, somewhere?” You exclaimed loudly, a bit too loudly. Matt tensed as he waited for you to approach him. He heard you drop off your friends at your Uber, and he heard your conversation with them. Behind his mask, he squinted his eyes. He tilted his head, taking you in.
Vodka-Diet Coke, one too many. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She’s wearing a mini skirt…and sandals. And a revealing top. Her hair is down. Her fragrance…cologne—overpriced. Did a man touch you?
“And what if I weren’t here?” Matt asked with no humor in his voice. You came to an awkward stop in front of him, crossing your arms.
“I would’ve walked home alone and expected you to find me anyway,” You slurred, though you were trying not to sound drunk. It wasn’t working.
“You can’t expect that I’ll always be there all the time,” Matt argued. “You need to be able to keep yourself safe when I’m not around.”
“And when you are around?”
“You’re safe with me,” he said simply.
“And that’s exactly why I wait for you,” you answered. The smell of the cologne was overpowering to Matt’s senses—he couldn’t stand the smell of someone else on you.
“Who’s cologne is that?” Matt asked.
You shrugged. “Some random guy Emily tried to set me up with. He wasn’t my type.” You laughed. “I’ve got someone else on my mind.”
Ignoring the last part, Matt pried more.
“Did—did he touch you?” The scent was so strong and terrible it was like you were doused in it. You shook your head.
“I drunkenly stumbled into him and he uninvitingly placed his hand on my back,” you said, then asked, “are you—first of all, I am way too drunk to know how you know there’s cologne on me, and second, are you jealous?” You asked suspiciously, and Matt didn’t need to be able to see to know you were smiling when you asked your last question.
Perhaps he was.
“What if I was?” Matt asked.
You laughed, but it wasn’t lighthearted. There was something else in your voice, almost like resentment. “What, you would’ve walked right into the bar and stopped him from talking to me?”
“No—“
“No,” you cut him off. “Because then I’d know who you are. And you have no right to be jealous.”
Matt was silent. You were argumentative in nature, and he liked that, but tonight, it felt more personal. He was already starting to hurt you. He didn’t like that.
“I’ll leave you alone from now on,” Matt stated. He turned on his heel and began to walk away, but he felt you take his hand.
“I’d walk myself into danger to get you to come and find me if you leave right now,” you said tauntingly. Matt turned around so fast, he knew it startled you. He took your wrist and held it tightly.
“Don’t. Don’t joke like that,” his voice was low, guttural even. The thought of you in danger made him furious. The thought of you purposefully putting yourself in danger was downright seething.
“I’d walk into the depths of this city alone and in nothing but a sundress and wait for you to come to find me,” you sneered in a drunken whisper.
“Stop,” Matt’s jaw clenched as he spoke, “Stop it.” He held onto your wrist tighter. You yanked it out of his grasp. He taught you how to do that.
“Why haven’t you left yet anyway? Why are you so triggered now, all of a sudden?” You argued more. Matt shook his head before he answered. It’s what I’ve been asking myself all week.
“Because I can’t get enough,” He said in a low growl as he took your chin in his hands and kissed you so hard, you had to hold on to his shirt. You held his black shirt in between your knuckles, pulling him desperately closer to you. Matt held onto your waist like he always does and moved you against the wall of the alley.
He kissed you more, in the alley, knowing no one was around. It was just you and him in the alley, kissing desperately and holding onto each other. He pinned your hands above your head but held your wrists firm.
“Touch me,” you demanded as you pulled back, gasping for air. You spread your legs so he stood between them.
“No,” he whispered and shook his head. “Not when you’re intoxicated.”
“Oh, so you’ll easily break the law every night, but when it comes to a girl allowing you to touch her, that's where you draw the line?” You laughed. He shushed you with another kiss.
“You’re not just any girl to me,” Matt’s voice softened.
“You say that to all the girls you save,” you joked. He shook his head again, holding that same serious demeanor.
“You’re the only one,” he told you truthfully. “There’s only you.”
“Your accomplice?” You asked with a smile.
He couldn’t help but smile in return.
“My accomplice.” He kissed you again.
Hell’s Kitchen
1:00 AM
Mike walked you home. And now, you laid in bed, about to dream of him all over again.
The way he told you that you were the only girl in his life… no amount of water could’ve sobered you up quicker, and no amount of lecturing could make you take the situation more seriously, the way he spoke to you just an hour ago. And there was still the lingering question in your mind of, well then, who are you?
You had bit your lip. You didn’t ask him.
Another night, you told yourself.
Tonight, you wrapped yourself in your sheets, wishing it was him instead.
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#charlie cox#charlie cox x reader#daredevil#daredevil x reader#marvel imagine#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#the defenders#charlie cox fan fiction#matt murdock fan fiction#daredevil born again#blind faith
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The Hat Theory
...so it seems y'all wanted this more than I thought you did 💃alright, here we go.
Do you see the difference between these two scenes?
If you said, "The damage on Rhett's hat is different," then you'd be correct.
From episode one, we can see that Rhett's hat has some damage to the brim of it. A small portion of it has been chipped off. And for the majority of the season, the damage in his hat consistently looks like this.
Jump to episode eight. When Royal interrupts Rhett before his ride and tries to talk to him about his past, among various other things. Remember how Rhett's hat used to look. The chip out of the edge of it.
After Royal confronts Rhett and is escorted away, Rhett looks down and suddenly
The damage is different.
This isn't the same tear in the brim we've been seeing. In this scene, Rhett's hat has had part of the felt torn away, leaving a big patch.
But it is only for this scene. When Rhett climbs on the bull for his ride, it's back to normal. No patch of missing felt. We never see that missing damage again.
Damage doesn't just change. And I find it hard to believe that Rhett's hat was mistakenly changed for an identical one, with a different kind of damage.
So why does this happen?
I have two theories.
Theory one: Outer Range may be a combination of multiple timelines.
This isn't the first time there has been a slight inconsistency within the same scene. Take Rhett's bull ride in episode one, for example. For a few fleeting scenes, Rhett's shirt changes. Briefly going from white with green stripes to blue with white/blue stripes.
I'm not the only one to be theorizing this. There are a lot of posts that can be found in the Outer Range subreddit, with many similar inconsistencies that occur in the same scene.
Theory two: Changes are being made in the past that are affecting things in the present.
We've seen that time travel is possible through Royal jumping into the hole in 1886 and coming out in 1968. And through Royal falling into the hole, landing a few years into the future, only to jump back in and go back to our "present" timeline.
Potential changes occurring in the past might be causing little things in the future to become inconsistent.
These changes may be happening because of the BY9 company.
When Autumn pushes Royal into the hole, he goes a few years into the future, where he sees that the land now belongs to a company called BY9. They're mining the land, presumably seeking the time-ore that allows users to have visions of the future and, in mass quantities, makes time travel possible.
If this ore is being mined, then we can assume someone is using it. You don't just mine for something you're not planning to use. If this ore is being used to go back in time to change the past, then it could be causing these inconsistencies in our "present" day in Outer Range.
Regardless of why it's happening, the change in Rhett's hat is a deliberate indication that something has changed. Something we can't see. Whether it be a simple difference in timelines. Someone fucking around in the past. Or a secret third option that involves the Rhett Abbott fanbase trying to bring Rhett to the real world.
This may be why Outer Range feels like such a fever dream at times. The show isn't meant to be consistent. It's intentionally created to confuse you. And what's so fun about this is that the cause of these inconsistencies can truly be anything.
The only thing we know for sure is that something is happening. Something tied to the unknown. This inconsistency is deliberate. Not accidental. And we know that because the damage on a cowboy hat doesn't suddenly change, just for the hell of it.
The question is.
Why is this happening, and who's causing it?
#ask and you shall receive#outer range#outer range amazon#rhett abbott#rhett abbott outer range#the hat theory#del's tin hat thoughts#delgato's gifs
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work song. | joel miller
Abstract: He wishes he could reach over as he does in darkness, wrap his arms around her and pull her to him, making her gasp and giggle and fall into him, finding her place in the bent of his arms, head tucked under his chin so that they’re locked together like puzzle pieces.
But he can’t move, and the gasp that falls from her lips is not the one he wants to hear.
Words: 1.8k
Content: f!reader; MAJOR tlou2 spoilers, character’s death, mentions of child’s death, blood and wounds, angst, mentions of explicit scenes but nothing graphic, mentions of alcohol
A/N: heavily inspired by hozier’s work song. i don’t know where this came from and i’m sorry. writing is a little experimental
also on AO3 - masterlist
reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too
Joel, get up.
It echoes distantly, the words in a voice so familiar it almost pulls him back from the dull pain all across his body - Ellie, his Ellie.
Joel, fucking get up.
One breath, two. There’s a coppery taste in his mouth, and he can’t see her, but she’s there, his Ellie. Angry and pleading, she sounds like she’s just out of reach, and his hand twitches. Maybe he can get to her, crawl across the floor to where she’s breathing hard and please stop! Please don’t do this… Joel, please get up!
It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s oddly quiet, and then the ringing starts - there’s no more blood coating his tongue, or his teeth, but it’s still awfully dark, and where’s Ellie?
A scream, a sob, the low-lit room spins around him and there she is, pinned to the ground as her shoulders shake with her sobs as the ringing goes on and on and on and -
I’ll fucking kill you…
No, he wants to say, don’t do that, don’t go down that road, sweet girl, it’s alright, it was going to be this way sooner or later. There’s no point in being angry, it was bound to happen - he knew that, he still does, it’s alright. Besides, he should add, you know she doesn’t like to see you angry. Either of us, really.
He wonders where she is. When the room is empty but for him and Ellie, he wonders where she is - she’s never too far from either of them, she’s always looking out for them, looking after them, caring for them, even when they drift apart. Sweet as the cherries that grow as a miracle in their backyard.
He wonders where she is.
When she first found him, Jackson still felt like a fever dream, too good to be true.
The alcohol didn’t taste as cheap as the one from the QZ, and he drank and drank and drank and yet it was her he got drunk on - her laughter (how could someone laugh so brightly after all that happened?) and her smile (how long had those lines etched themselves into her skin?) and her jokes (how drunk are you, really, to find this funny? whispered with her shoulder pressed to his).
He knew Tommy and Maria had set them up, his brother had said it loud and clear - and so did she, Maria fixing her hair at the door when she first got there making her laugh.
“I don’t mind,” they were alone when she said it, the glass in her hand almost empty as she leaned into him. “It’s a bit like old times, is it not? Meddling younger brothers and friends.”
Christ, he could lose himself in her smile.
He went home with her that night, his jacket resting over her shoulders and a kiss at the front door - like old times. He would’ve lingered there, before. He would’ve whispered goodnight in the doorway, letting the word echo in the house before walking away. He would’ve looked over his shoulder, would’ve seen his jacket still on her and grinned - a promise of returning, a thread keeping them together.
But it was not just like old times, because time was not something he thought he had just yet. Every day could be the last, could it not? That’s what he had gotten used to outside.
And so the kiss turned into two and three and more and the door closed behind them both, with his jacket falling to the floor where it’d stay the night, while he’d spend it trapped in the space between her thighs, a warm embrace more dizzying than any alcohol had ever been - before, in the QZ, in Jackson.
In the morning he’d notice an empty room across the corridor from hers, the door open to show a single bed and some old toys - that thread he thought could belong only to the past wrapped itself around him. It kept them together, day after night after day, with whispers in the crook of his neck of what once was, what would never be again.
But they had one another.
“Don’t you ever worry I might’ve done something awful to get here?”
“To get to me?” sometimes she touched his face as if to make sure he was real. He’d kiss her hands then, hardened by time, by the fight. “We’ve all done awful things. You can’t survive out there if you’re a nice person.”
“You’re a good person.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t nice,” he had forgotten what cherries tasted like - he remembered each time she kissed him that summer. “You did what you had to to survive. To help Ellie survive. You’re a good person, too.”
He could die knowing she believed him good, but he did not want to anymore.
She still believed him good, even after Ellie told her what he’d done.
He should’ve known Ellie was going to - the kid loved her as much as he did. Why would she want her to be with a selfish liar? With someone who’d taken away the possibility of salvation? With the man who was the reason her kid had turned?
“Nothing could’ve saved my son, Joel,” a bitter whisper, a knowledge she lived with daily and still hurt in the middle of the night. “But you saved Ellie. That girl is alive because of you.”
“At what cost?”
“Her life - she was just a kid. She still is. The weight of the world should’ve never rested on her shoulders,” it was such a drastic difference, her soft voice in the lowlights of their porch (he had not dared getting inside the house to confess, because he feared having to walk out) compared to Ellie’s anger thrown in screams at his face. “You’re not a bad person for caring about her - you’re just still human. She’ll come around.”
“She won’t. She’s right. And she’s stubborn.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” soft and sweet she took his hand and led him towards the door, a home he did not expect to have ever again and that she still offered to him, in spite of everything. “Anger doesn’t suit either of you.”
Was that the forgiveness he deserved? Still having a house, a bed, still having her?
Her steps echo around him like they do at night when she gets up to go drink, because she always forgets to bring a glass to her nightstand.
He wishes he could reach over as he does in darkness, wrap his arms around her and pull her to him, making her gasp and giggle and fall into him, finding her place in the bent of his arms, head tucked under his chin so that they’re locked together like puzzle pieces.
But he can’t move, and the gasp that falls from her lips is not the one he wants to hear.
It gets stuck in the back of her throat and he feels her gaze on him with Ellie’s, and the tears in their eyes make his still heart ache.
“Shit,” it’s Dina holding her up for a moment - he likes Dina. They both do. She’s good, a good person, good for Ellie.
“Go to Ellie,” her voice sounds so different. Leveled and cold and foreign - it lacks her joy. It almost isn’t her voice at all. “That’s alright - go to Ellie. I’m alright.”
Her lips twitch when she lies - it’s an almost imperceptible movement, the corner of her mouth going up and down once the lie gets past her lips. It’s funny, he thinks, how he got to know her so deeply - he spent over 20 years believing he would never get close enough to anybody else to do that, but now he can tell by the quirk of her lips that she’s lying.
That she’s not alright.
That when she kneels by Ellie and brushes her tears away, her hair back, the thread is about to snap. That when she rests her forehead to Ellie’s and calls her baby girl, the crack in her voice is the reason she says nothing else - she can’t, not without falling apart.
He hates it. He hates to see Ellie cry, he hates to see her hands tremble as she and Dina help her up. He hates that she has to be strong, put on a brave face. He’s the one who’s supposed to do that.
Perhaps he can still crawl to them. Hold them both. Carry them home.
“You got her?” Dina nods to her, her arms holding Ellie’s almost limp body. “I’m staying with him, I - just leave me a moment.”
She makes her way across the floor slowly, without even getting up, and her shoulders are shaking as she reaches his side. The door closes behind Dina and Ellie, and she lets out a broken sob as their steps get more distant.
He wants to tell her to not get any closer, that she’ll get blood on her clothes and that’s impossible to take out nowadays, but she’s lowering her head to his and now tears are dwelling in her eyes and her jeans are getting soaked at the knees as she brushes her lips to his forehead. He can almost feel it.
She should say something, she thinks, but words tangle and twist in her chest, making it ache as she cradles his broken face, trying and trying and trying to get the blood off but the wounds are still open, still bleeding, and he’s still warm, and her sleeves can only get so much away.
She keeps trying, even when tears blur her vision and she almost can’t recognise him anymore, her touch so soft and gentle as if she’s afraid of hurting him, her Joel, her love.
She’ll stay there until the others will find Tommy, and then, even if he’s as broken as she is, he’ll pull her away from his brother’s body - it becomes a chain, one trying to be strong for the other.
Eventually, all will fail.
It’ll be Tommy finding her again, days later, kneeling on the cold dark earth by Joel’s headstone - the tears will have long dried, but her hands will still tremble.
For a while, Joel is grateful for his brother, same way as he’s grateful for Dina - they care for his girls the way he was supposed to, and they try and take care of each other, because it’s each other they need the most in his absence.
Eventually, that’ll fail too - for a while.
“Revenge will not bring him back, Ellie,” she’s still gentle in the face of Ellie’s fury - yet it’s all for nothing. For a while.
Months later, she’ll still be there to wait for her and pick up Joel’s guitar. She’ll still be there to welcome her home and hold her through the night on a single bed, surrounded by old toys, and a broken watch on her wrist.
#redahlia#work song#tlou fanfiction#tlou2 spoilers#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#tlou fanfic#tlou fic#pedro pascal characters
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