#his body is my coffin series

[fakesaintess]

His Body Is My Coffin

Chap Summary: "Why, yes! He did go here!" Lilia's smile is bright, contrasting to the news he's about to share, "Haven't you heard the ghost story about the boy who was killed here? That's him! You can even see some nicks in his ribs from the stab wounds!"

Chapter 2

With speed that could make track members envious, Epel's vice housewarden is up close and personal to Deuce. Looking at Deuce the way a scientist would observe a slide under a microscope, he circles around Deuce. "Très bien! You are a sight to be seen! Rook Hunt here to make your humble acquaintance."

Deuce tries to sidestep away from Rook but it does nothing as Rook moves with him. "Deuce Spade. Here to be called names by everybody apparently." He replies as he steps.

It does make sense that in Deuce's eyes he is being subjected to name calling, that Epel can see. Epel can also see that to everyone else this is the first time someone has appeared as a zombie instead of a ghost so their reactions have no basis of what's considered rude or not. He thinks he feels bad for Deuce, he can only imagine what it feels like to wake up from sleep to find out you're now a shadow of a human in a world that's moved on. He doesn't find himself wanting to imagine what that's like quickly. Epel doesn't think he'd take this as calmly as Deuce takes it.

Yuu tugs Deuce to a darker corner of the room as leading members of the dorms begin to trickle into the room. They take their normal positions in the room, no one mentioning the boy in the corner.

"Do they not notice him? There's no way everyone doesn't see him. They gotta be keeping quiet." Epel thinks, casting glances from where Deuce and Yuu are gathered to the important dorm members.

Leona, the leader of Savanaclaw, arrives last. Without even looking around, he becomes the first new entry to say something about that situation. "What smells like flowers left in a graveyard?" He asks.

"Is that what I smell like?" Deuce asks Yuu specifically.

His voice catches the attention of those new in the room.

"What is that?" Riddle asks alarmed.

Deuce points at himself as if asking "Me?"

"He says his name is Deuce. Is he not a form of beauty unseen before now?" Rook replies to Riddle.

"It's certainly new." The vice housewarden of the same dorm Riddle leads and that Deuce formally belonged to, Trey, says. It's noticeable that he's trying to respond with no clear side chosen even though he does not feel anything like how Rook feels about what's happening.

"What a situation we've found ourselves in. I think this is a treat. I'm Jade Leech of Octavinelle, let our meeting be remembered." Jade is the first of the people who have recently spoken to introduce himself. Though, his introduction sounds more like a warning.

"Deuce Spade." Deuce responds, beginning to get tired of introducing himself over and over.

Jade looks Deuce over before looking at Riddle from the corner of his eyes with a sinister grin. "Say, that uniform of your's, are you a member of Heartslabyul?"

"Yeah. Does no one here know me?" Deuce asks before dejectedly adding, "That's kind of sad. I thought I was popular."

"What?! I stake no claim to that!" Riddle snaps, the mentioning of Deuce in his dorm tempting his temper.

"Who the hell are you to say if I belong to my dorm or not?!" Deuce seems to be able to match Riddle's anger.

"The housewarden! That dorm falls under my leadership and I will not have you there!" Riddle's face flushes red as he outdoes Deuce in the anger category.

"But you will!" Crowley tugs Deuce from the corner to where mostly everyone is gathered. "I'm reenrolling him. It'd certainly be a plus for the school to have someone so unique here." The word unique is carefully picked so Deuce won't be agitated any further.

Riddle's face pales in an instant.

With a smirk on his face Azul comments, "Aren't you lucky to have such a unique student in your dorm?" He's really rubbing salt in the wound.

Having someone like Deuce in the dorm will throw a wrench into the normal life Trey wants to lead. He changes the topic to allow some time to come up with a reason Deuce should be assigned to a different dorm. "Reenrolling? Was he a student here in the past? He's not anyone I've seen before." If only Trey had learned from Ace that distractions only make things worse.

"Why, yes! He did go here!" Lilia's smile is bright, contrasting to the news he's about to share, "Haven't you heard the ghost story about the boy who was killed here? That's him! You can even see some nicks in his ribs from the stab wounds!"

"Someone actually got killed here? There's no warnings about that anywhere on the web!" A voice echoes from a tablet Epel knows belongs to Idia from Ignihyde.

Deuce doesn't know that. He doesn't even know what a tablet is. "What's that?" He asks, pointing at the tablet.

Idia makes several fearful noises that Epel didn't know humans could make before saying, "That thing spoke to me!"

"So, that childish ghost story about a student here being killed by an admirer is true, but that doesn't explain why he's here now." Vil says, ignoring Idia. Vil would like to move the conversation along and leave the premises, and the zombie boy, behind. Vil needn't ruffle any feathers over Heartslabyul's burden. Until the time comes where he does need to but he's aware it's not yet that time so, for now, zero feathers are ruffled.

"That's the real question! It can't be a grudge because it's been too long since he got killed to take revenge. And there's nothing special happening anytime soon that'd create him. What has brought you back here to us?" Lilia makes direct eye contact with Deuce.

For a brief moment, Epel swears he can see horror in Deuce's eyes, like he's finally acknowledged what happened to him. Then, it all fades to a confused look. "If I was dead, how would I be here?" Deuce says.

"What do you think we're trying to figure out?!" Riddle snaps. He he's not fond of how his new dorm member is both undead and stupid.

"Do you remember anything before showing up here? Some sorta dream or the like?" Leona asks. He's not too particularly interested in what's happening but he's also not disinterested in finding out what's happening.

"Going to bed." Deuce answers straightforwardly.

"Epel, he say anything to you? Before you answer, make sure it's relevant to what's happening." Ace is the first of the first year group to say something.

"All he said was wakin' up in his room and being unable to get out." Epel replies.

"Not every story is interesting and whatever lead him here is one of those uninteresting stories." Ace says. "Back to an earlier topic, I don't want to share a dorm with him." Straight to the point and blunt, leaving no room to be misunderstood.

"Let's not reject Deuce so quickly." Trey says, also not wanting Deuce in the dorm but refraining from showing it. He's been unable to think of a convincing way to say Deuce belongs elsewhere.

"Are you all even somewhat capable of pretending you're not scared of him? He's dead, not unable to understand you guys don't like him." Leona doesn't say anyone in specific's name but they're each aware that they're the ones being addressed.

"I'm surprised he's able to understand anything seeing how clueless he is about everything." Idia mutters.

"No, seriously, what is that?" Deuce restates his earlier question, once again pointing at Idia's tablet.

"Yeah, he doesn't know anything beyond pay phones. He's only been recently defrosted into modern times." Ace informs the group about Deuce's lack of technology knowledge.

"Pay phones?" Idia is aghast. And a little bit disgusted.

"Listen, you understand magic. Just think about it as a magic slab that lets people far away talk to you." Ace may actively protest Deuce joining his dorm but that doesn't stop him from being one of the most helpful in the conversation.

"Sounds cool." Deuce responds.

"Surprised he doesn't say groovy." Idia is not over Deuce being behind in technology and may never be.

"I don't intend to be cruel. But I do intend to make it clear that Deuce Spade should not be in my dorm!" Riddle slams his hands down on the table.

"Thank you for remembering my full name. But I'm not leaving the dorm I was assigned to. You can't make me." Deuce says firmly.

"Standing his ground on this. Just like the ground he should be in." Ace takes his opportunity to make a joke.

"Come now Riddle, I thought your Heartslabyul would never lose a student yet here you are forcing a student out. Are you going to let your reputation take a hit over this?" Azul chimes in, not bothering to hide the pleasure he's taking in the situation.

Riddle grits his teeth, absolutely fuming at Azul's words that he's taken to heart. He refuses to let any of his dorm members drop out and, even if he doesn't accept Deuce, having him leave would be a blemish on Riddle's reputation. Face flushed red with anger he walks over to Deuce and offers his hand out for a handshake, "Welcome back to Heartslabyul."

With a smile on his face Deuce purposely lays his skeletal hand over Riddle's who noticeably shivers. "Thank you for welcoming me. I look forward to seeing how you run my dorm." He does genuinely look forward to seeing how Riddle runs Heartslabyul even though it looks like he's spiting Riddle with his current choices.

Riddle puts his other hand over Deuce's in attempt to prove his dominance. His unease over death incarnates' touch is nothing compared to his want to assert his superiority over his newest card solider. "I assure you to the fullest you'll be impressed with how well I run this dorm. It's the essence of the Queen of Hearts."

"I'm going to hang up now." Idia says broken up between pauses and then the tablet screen goes dark.

"Say bye-bye to the magic box. It's gone forever now." Ace answers the question Deuce hasn't asked yet but Ace knows he will.

"Bye-bye." Deuce says that without questioning Ace.

"Don't lie to him." Jack elbows Ace.

"I take it this meeting's over now. Unless you have there is something else to add?" Vil looks over at Crowley.

Seeing as things were solved with Crowley having to do little to nothing he's more than willing to end this meeting before new issues can sprout up. "Yes! I think it's been a long day for Deuce. Heartslabyul team, why don't you show him around the dorm? The rest of you can head out."

"There's still class to attend! I won't miss a class when I have no reason to! I've got dignity as a star student." Riddle raises his voice to show his . Class is very serious business to him.

"You do have a reason. It's your duty as housewarden to help new students." Crowley responds.

"I wish you two luck on introducing your new friend to your dorm. Deuce, I hope we meet again." Jade falsely wishes Trey and Riddle luck as he leaves the room with a majority of the other students gathered there.

"If you want I'm more than willing to show Deuce over there around the dorm. I'm part of the team, ain't I?" Ace slings an arm around Deuce's shoulders.

"Get to class." Riddle narrows his eyes at Ace.

"Damn. Worth a shot. C'mon Yuu, let's blow this popsicle stand." Ace heads out the door with the last gathering of people, leaving only Deuce, Riddle, Trey, and Epel behind.

Epel isn't exactly sure why he didn't leave with the rest of them. Maybe he wanted to see what Deuce would get up to next as he's seen out Deuce's journey this far. Maybe he wanted to apologize to Riddle for letting Deuce out into the world.

Maybe the reason he stayed was to hear Deuce ask Riddle, with the faintest hint of a dark blue blush on his cheeks, "How long are we going to hold hands for? It's kind of embarrassing."

Riddle yanks his hands away from Deuce and stumbles backwards. "I was distracted which caused me to linger in our earlier position. It won't happen again, I assure you.."

Deuce opens and closes his hand as if gripping the air in mourning of lost contact. Epel thinks he may feel sympathy for Deuce. Or, more likely, pity. For the past who-knows-how-long the meeting went on for Deuce had witnessed the people around him look at him with disdain or fear. He must be lonely, that loneliness increased by the fact no one he knew is at the school anymore.

"I guess we should show you around now while other members are in class." Trey says to Deuce. He thinks Deuce should slowly be introduced to the dorm members so hysteria doesn't break out. "It'll be challenging to show you around the dorm later in the day since people will want to get a good look at you."

"He's using excuses instead of saying what'll really happen. People will react real badly like they did here. Ain't no reason to tell excuses no more. He's caught on by now." Epel thinks to himself. He doesn't fear Deuce as much as he did when they first met. He's like a stray cat caught in the rain, you feel bad for his situation but you know not to get too close.

"Sounds good. Lead the way….Riddle and Riddle's vice housewarden…. Can you please tell me your name?" There's several pauses as Deuce grapples with his lack of knowledge on Trey's name and trying to make up for that. He gives a flustered smile like he's apologizing for it.

"Right, we haven't given our proper introductions. I'm Trey Clover, the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul. With me is Riddle Rosehearts, the housewarden, as you know." Trey fills Deuce in.

"Urk." Riddle is ashamed of his repeated failure to live up to his social rules. The current situation has worked him up in ways he's never been before causing him to forget his usual cues. He clears his throat, "Once again, I welcome you to my dorm."

"Thank you! Again!" Deuce cheerfully answers. "Oh, Epel, are you coming with us?" Deuce says without turning to face Epel.

"Just making sure everything's under control before we separate." Epel replies. That's close enough to a reason why he stayed.

"See you another time then!" Deuce says, the fact he's eagerly awaiting another meeting obvious in his expression.

A storm would be the typical metaphor for someone who causes a fuss and then leaves, but the same storm never blows through the same place twice. In Epel's mind Deuce is more like a nightingale, leaving for now but bound to return with a song that'll keep the neighborhood awake.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (cont.)

Solomon: Don't you think you're at a disadvantage right now?

MC: Why? Because I took a nap?

Solomon: Hm.

MC: Don't worry about it. I used Zagan's talisman to secure my body.

Solomon: Ooh, smart. So, how can I help you this time?

MC: Which king will try to kidnap me?

Solomon: No doubt, it'll be Leviathan.

MC: ...

MC: Great, my least favorite.

Solomon: Leviathan isn't that bad.

MC: The only good thing about him is his pet monster.

Solomon: Good point. But still, try to be nice to him.

MC: No.

Solomon: *chuckles*

MC: *woke up* *yawns*

MC: ...

MC: Hey, how long are you going to hide yourself, huh?

MC: I know you're there, Foras.

Foras: !!!

Foras: How did you-

MC: You here to pick me up?

Foras: ...

Foras: Yes. Are you willing to come with me?

MC: Depends. If it doesn't require me to walk a long distance-

Foras: I brought my coffin with me. We will use that.

MC: So we'll be there in an instant?

Foras: In a way, yes.

MC: ...

MC: In that case, I'm gonna eat first. Catch. *throws their gun at him*

Foras: Huh?

MC: Hunt some marshmallow angels for me, and those muscleheads if you spot them too.

Foras: ...

Foras: Please wait here. *then disappears*

MC: ...

MC: Huh. I didn't expect he would just listen to me like that.

Foras: *watching them eat*

MC: *eats everything down to the bone*

Foras: ...

MC: What?

Foras: ...

Foras: *finds them cute* It's nothing. How long till you finish?

MC: 15 minutes? I'll wash my hands, brush my teeth, change into my combat clothes- that'll take me half an hour.

Foras: I will patiently wait for you then.

Leviathan: *watching MC and Foras from his crystal globe*

Leviathan: What is he doing?

Glasyalabolas: I think he's taken a liking to them.

Barbatos: Who wouldn't? The descendant of Solomon is surprisingly cute!

Glasyalabolas: Yeah, munching those angels like it's nothing.

Leviathan: ...

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 

“M-me.” 

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Reader's origin story

When I started this new Batman obsession, I soooo needed to get this out of my system, so I wrote and wrote and wrote. I figured I could share this with you.

I start with reader's origin story because some stuff will be hinted througout the series (10 parts so far) and because it explains some of her reactions.

Just so you know, it's afab!reader, but there is absolutely NO description of her, and nothing in her backstory says she is white. But as a white girl myself, if I missed something, PLEASE LET ME KNOW and send me a DM. I really want you all to enjoy some Bruce Wayne x reader, no matter who you are or what you look like!!

That being said, enjoy <3

Warnings: no proof reading, awful childhood with toxic parents, mentions of death and violence, reader has a negative image of Batman

You were coming from the poorest neighbourhood of Gotham. The most dangerous one as well: the Narrows.

You had been lucky to climb the social ladder thanks to your grandma who loved you more than anything and absolutely wanted you to study abroad. She wanted better for you. She wanted you to meet your true potential. She always said that if she - as well as your mother - had been a little more educated, they would have been women of power. And more importantly, they would have been women of freedom. By now, it was too late for her and for her daughter, but it was not too late for you. She decided to sacrifice everything she had to give you what the women of the family never had before.

By allowing you to get an education, she also saved you from a very dark family. She saved you from your father, who used to be a gangster closely working with Don Falcone and to be friends with Victor Zsasz. Your father ended in jail before dying there. 

It was what people said at least. 

Your mother didn’t know if he had been killed there or if he killed himself. Either way, she was relieved this monster was now gone from her existence. But you knew the truth: you were 16 when this happened, and you had known your father very well. You had followed him for all those years, like his shadow. He used you as a right hand because you were his favourite kid. It meant you knew Don Falcone personally. So when your father “died”, you knew better than to believe it. You went to the Roman, and you asked him to open the coffin after the funeral, just to make sure if all of this was true or not. You weren’t too surprised when you found rocks instead of a body. Don Falcone offered to work for him because you had potential indeed.

But you declined when your grandmother insisted for you to get an education. You had been at a crossroad: you could have started the life of a gangster or you could have been something else. Still now, you wondered what gave you the strength to be something else.

About your father, you never heard about him so far, and you were grateful about it. You had realised as you grew up that he was using you because you were a smart and silent kid. You knew how to behave with dangerous people: you never let anyone or anything intimidate you. When you weren’t with your father, you were reading books, so you quickly learnt to have a way with words and to read people as well. 

You guessed it was still useful now, and you hated it that it was all thanks to your father. At least, your grandma offered you another life, and you would forever be grateful for that. You couldn’t blame your own mother who never loved you - you looked way too much like your father. She was a mess who ran away when your father disappeared, so you really only had your grandma left to take care of you.

You went aboard. You went to England and you studied. You studied hard to the point of becoming a top student in college and then in university.

You understood what it was to be free indeed. You enjoyed your life away from Gotham, and you weren’t too sure if you would ever go back there.

However, after your graduation, your grandma’s health started to go down. Your mother didn’t want to go back to Gotham to take care of her, and your grandma didn’t want to leave Gotham because it had been her home her whole life. She also strongly believed that if people like Batman were fighting for the city, she couldn’t go away and seem ungrateful. You tried to convince her that Batman probably didn’t care, but she was stubborn.

At that time, Batman was so young and so fresh. People didn’t know if they should like him or not. You didn’t particularly like him. You weren’t too sure to understand why he was doing what he was doing. Most importantly, you felt like he was taking care of the big villains and letting most of the population of Gotham alone. The man clearly didn’t come from the Narrows and he couldn’t understand that if more than half of the neighbourhood population was working for the big villains as goons was because they didn’t have any other choice. You heard about his “gadgets” and you thought that all this money could have bought a school in the Narrows. Or a hospital. Or anything else useful.

Sometimes, you felt like you were being a little bit harsh on the Bat; at least someone fought against Don Falcone. You knew what the Roman was capable of, and yeah, maybe Batman was better than you wanted to admit it.

You ended up coming back to Gotham so you could take care of your grandma. She loved you even more for that, even if she didn’t want you to ruin your career for her. You easily found a job and slowly but surely went higher in society. You were good with words. You were good at getting people to do what you wanted, and more importantly, you were good at getting people to tell you their darkest secrets. You were doing well. You were happy to be back in Gotham, actually. It was your home too.

Years went by, and new vigilantes arrived, disappeared, and came back. Only Batman was always there. You still weren’t a big fan of him, even if you could admit he was clearly doing his best for the city. You preferred the new guy in town, though: Red Hood. He was taking care of things, and he also had the reputation to protect the kids and the civilians.

Your grandma was very excited when she learnt you were both living in his “territory”. You actually met him one night. He seemed to be looking around. When he spotted you, he walked to you.

“Hello, ma'am. Is everything alright? Do you need someone to get you home safely? This isn’t a very safe place right now. An asshole hid bombs everywhere around here.” he had told you, and you were a little bit surprised after everything you heard about him.

He was known to be a Crime Lord and to be some sort of enemy to Batman, but not really one either.

“I have lived here since forever. I’m all good, thank you” you replied with a smile “Thank you for being around” you said

“Oh well, you really shouldn’t thank me.” he hummed, clearly taken aback. 

He wasn’t used to people thanking him for anything

“On the contrary, finally, someone is doing something. Not like Batman. Hope you’ll stick around” you added

“Ok, let me bring you to your building, at least.” Red Hood insisted, and you agreed. 

You didn’t know why, but you felt you could trust him.

You weren’t an investigative journalist at that time, but later, you would write in favour of Red Hood… and quite in disfavour of Wayne Enterprises and his CEO.

When your grandma died, you took care of her funeral and of her flat, on your own. You gave the key back to find your own place. It was smaller, but at least you weren’t in the Narrows anymore. You stayed close to Red Hood’s territory, though. You never thought about leaving Gotham again, even if the Daily Planet offered you a job in Metropolis. You needed to stay in Gotham. She was your home, and you wanted to fight for her.

Another decade went by and even if you did good - everyone was reading your articles and knowing your name (without knowing your face) - you clearly had never thought you would go to one of those charity galas hosted by the popular Bruce Wayne.

You were currently writing for an independent and political newspaper of Gotham. Bruce Wayne was often criticised in it, which was one of the only media to do so. Bruce Wayne had offered someone to come over so they could see he had nothing to hide and that his charity galas had real purposes.

You had been chosen among the journalists because they knew you wouldn’t be naïve enough to believe everything the man would tell you.

You had no idea this gala would change your life.

And Bruce’s as well.

--

PART 1

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just You and Me: Part Two

On every part of this series, there will be a poll where you can vote whether you want reader to end up with Steve or Eddie or both! This has been so much fun to write and I hope y’all enjoy!

summary: you debut your “relationship at Corroded Coffin’s gig at The Hideout, unknowingly hurting the both of them.

cw: hurt/no comfort, angst, mention of alcohol

part one part three

Steve is sitting on the couch in your living room while you show him the entire time frame of your “relationship” that you’ve mapped out on a piece of poster board. You put it up on an easel and even got a collapsible metal pointer to really show him how serious you are about the whole thing.

Though, he seems more interested in the bag of potato chips he’s snacking on as opposed to the whole point of why he’s even at your apartment. He knows he’s supposed to be focusing, but how can he when you’re wearing that skirt that drives him crazy? Your legs just look so good and he’s so desperate to run his hands up and down your thighs as he lies on top of you, kissing you until you’re both-

“Steve, hello,” you’re waving your hand in front of his face and he’s quick to snap back into reality.

“Huh?” He asks, still partially in his daze and you snatch the chip bag from his hand and see them down on the coffee table that sits between you, making sure it’s just out of reach for him.

“Focus.“ You hit the pointer against the poster board to try to get his attention, but he’s still got that dreamy look in his eye. You wonder what’s so important that he’s not listening to you. It seems like he’s been in his own head for days.

“Sorry.” Now he feels like a jackass. You’re going through all of this effort and all he’s doing is staring at your body. He brings his focus back to the board and for the first time, he’s actually looking and holy shit, with how much thought you’ve put into this whole thing, it might just work.

“Where is your head today?” Up his ass, apparently. He can’t think about anything except how beautiful you look and it’s fucking with his head.

“I’m sorry. I was just up really late last night.” He’s actually not lying. He couldn’t sleep because of you. Because of this whole thing and how he isn’t exactly sure how it’s going to play out.

“Right, with your flavor of the week?” He hasn’t actually slept with anyone in a long time. He would just keep wishing it was you so he just stopped altogether because he didn’t want to lead anyone.

“Nope, just me and my hand, unfortunately.” He holds up said hand and wiggles his fingers which causes you to grimace.

“Gross.”

“So when does this whole thing start?” He asks, leaning against the couch with his arms sitting along the back.

“Tomorrow night. Corroded Coffin is performing at the Hideout so it’s a perfect opportunity.”

“So, no practice? We’re just going balls deep?” How the hell are you going to pull this off without practice? That makes no sense and no one’s even going to believe you if you can’t be convincing.

“First of all, don’t ever say that again. Second, we’re going to practice right now so just chill out, alright?” You head over to the couch and sit down next to Steve. Your thighs are touching and he can feel the heat from you through his jeans. If things were different, he’d have you straddling his lap, his hands resting on your back as he kisses you until you’re both breathless.

“Practice what?” He asks. Maybe if he actually read everything on your easel, he wouldn’t be so confused.

“Hold my hand,” you tell him and he hates that his cheeks are blushing. He’s held your hand so many times, but this is different. It’s supposed to be romantic, or implying that it is to other people.

His hand slides into yours, fingers intertwining and when he looks up at your face, you’re staring at him like he’s just hung the moon. God, you’re good. You’re acting, right? You have to be. Because if you weren’t and actually in love with him then you wouldn’t even be doing this whole stupid thing.

“You’re a natural,” you tell him with a smile.

“I’m just holding your hand, l/n. It’s not rocket science.”

“Still,” you shrug. “You know exactly what to do.” And he does. You’d never admit it, but his hand feels nice in yours. It’s soft and smooth and the way that his thumb is rubbing back and forth along yours. You almost don’t want to let go.

“Is this it?” Steve asks, still feeling his heart hammer in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his. He’d never tell you how right it feels to him. How he wants to hold your hand forever and never let go.

“No,” You shake your head, your hand reluctantly slipping out of his. You turn your body fully to face him and he mimics you, trying his best to not reach for your hand again. “I was wondering if you’d be comfortable practicing kissing.” Would he be comfortable? He’s only dreamed about kissing you every day for the majority of his life. He’s so ready and trying to not show just how eager he is.

“I’m open to it,” he nods and you bring your legs up onto the couch, crossing them over each other. And once again, Steve mimics you, doing the exact same thing. He watches as you take a deep breath. Could it be possible that you’re just as nervous? That would actually make him feel a whole lot better.

Your hands slowly reach up and grab hold of his face, cradling it gently. He hums at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Is this actually real? Or does this dream just seem so realistic? As soon as your lips touch his, he’s sure that it’s real. And it’s perfect, everything he ever dreamed it would be.

His mouth moves with yours as one hand rests at the back of your head, the other resting on your waist. And of fucking course you’re a good kisser. You’re good at everything. It’s only supposed to be short, but neither of you want to be the first to break away.

So you stay like that for just a little longer. You even go as far as licking into his mouth to deepen it, so close to climbing into his lap, but you refrain. It isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s just practice. But you’re enjoying it way more than you thought you would. So much so that you’re not even thinking about why you’re doing it or Eddie for that matter. All you’re thinking about is Steve and how much you want him inside you.

Steve lets out a moan and you’re quick to pull away, finally pulled back into reality. His pupils are blown wide and his lips are a pretty shade of pink from being kiss bitten. He runs his hands through his hair and god, he’s just so pretty. You’ve always thought that, but especially tonight. You have to pull yourself out of your thoughts, trying to think about Eddie. That’s your main focus.

You don’t like Steve. This was just you getting caught up in the moment. That’s all it is. You just have to make sure that you don’t go that far again so you don’t do something you know you shouldn’t. As long as all of your kisses are around other people, that shouldn’t be a problem.

“How was that?” You ask before rolling your lips into your mouth.

“That was-” Steve cuts himself off, his cheeks turning a bright pink. “That was-I mean, wow.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re unsure, but you’re hoping so. He wouldn’t have kissed you for that long if it was bad, right?

“Yes.”

“Well, good. I think we’re going to be convincing.” So you still want to go through with it. Eddie is still your goal. He doesn’t know why he thought that his kiss would make you want to call the whole thing off. Clearly all Steve will ever be to you is your best friend.

The rest of the night is spent role playing different scenarios and acting accordingly. Steve tries his best to play it off like he’s fine, but really, all he wants to do is throw in the towel. He wants to just quit and tell you that you’re on your own because it’s all just hurting too much.

But because he’s just such a great friend, he doesn’t. He can’t. You’ve already gotten this far and now you have to see it through. He also doesn’t want you asking Robin. Partly because he knows Robin can’t lie for shit and partly because he’d just be super jealous. So he’s going to do it and he’s going to do it with a big smile on his face because he doesn’t want to hurt you.

The Hideout is pretty empty when you and Steve show up. This is the usual turn out for a Tuesday night, but you and your friends are going to cheer for the band just like you always do. They’re setting up their equipment on the stage and you and Steve make a beeline for them, you trying to not seem so excited to see Eddie.

He looks so good in his leather jacket, cropped t-shirt, and jeans that hug his body in all the right places. He catches sight of you out of the corner of his eye and cuts his conversation with Gareth short as he hurries over to you.

He jumps off the stage and Steve’s quick to pull you back so you don’t get hurt, trying his hardest not to glare at the guy. That’s one of his best friends and is he really going to be the kind of guy who lets a girl get in between them? No way. Their friendship is way more important than that.

“You made it,” Eddie smiles, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“I always do,” you smile back and Steve doesn’t like the flirty looks you’re giving each other. “And I even brought Stevie to be another one of your cheerleaders.”

Eddie watches the way Steve wraps his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder. This doesn’t surprise him since you’re always touchy with each other, but this time, it seems different. And when Steve kisses your cheek, he knows it is.

“So, you two, huh?” He asks, pushing hands further into his pockets, balling his fists as he tries his best to hide how upset he is. He always knew this day would come. The two of you are meant for each other and everyone knows it. He just wished he would have had a chance before the two of you made it official. But he supposes that you were always bound to end up together. That’s how that kind of shit always goes for Eddie.

“Yeah,” you nod with a smile, looking up at Steve and Eddie feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest because it’s not him who you’re looking at like that. “For a couple weeks now, wouldn’t you say so, honey?”

“I’d say so,” Steve nods, not even having to try to look lovingly at you.

“Well, I’m happy for you. It was a long time coming.” He’s smiling through the pain, trying his best to pretend like he can’t hear his heart breaking.

There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite make out and you really wish you knew if he was telling the truth. But then again, Eddie is one who’s known for being honest, even brutally so. And you’ve been friends long enough that you expect him to tell you the truth when something is bothering him.

But Eddie would never tell you the truth, not about how he feels about you, anyway. He’s taking that shit to the grave now since you’re with Steve. He excuses himself to head back to the stage to make sure that everything is all set and you’re starting to think that went too well. He really wasn’t even a little jealous?

You and Steve head to the bar and he’s squeezing your shoulder to show you that he’s sympathetic to the situation. Because as badly as he wants to be with you, he really just wants you to be happy in the end even if it’s not with him.

The two of you sip on your drinks, standing even closer to each other than you normally would, feeling the need to touch each other in any way you can to make the whole thing believable. You have to admit that Steve is a much better actor than you had initially thought. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he was in love with you.

How devastating that would be if he was? You would have felt so horrible for asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend if you knew that was what he was wanting from you all along. That would really make you feel like a dick because how cruel would that have been to make him pretend to be something he’s wanted to be all for the purpose of trying to get the attention of someone else?

You reach up and brush some hair out of Steve’s face and he’s trying so hard to reel back his feelings. He’s been thinking about that kiss since it happened and if he had the balls, he would have asked you if you could price again. He’s desperate for more, so close to pulling you yo the bathroom to have his way with you, fucking you senseless until you completely forget Eddie’s name, Steve’s being the only one to fall from your lips.

You’re nudging him from his fantasy and he’s immediately snapped back to reality. How long was he out? His fantasies seem to be lasting way longer lately, much more real. He’s getting even more pathetic by the second and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

“It's about to start. Let’s go.” You grab him by the hand and he follows you to the front of the stage where you’re beaming up at Eddie who’s at the front of the stage, introducing the band into the mic before going into the first song.

He watches you the entire time, hating how Steve’s got his arms wrapped around you, his chin making a home on your shoulder. He’s filled with more anger than he knows what to do with. Seeing how you’re looking at each other makes him so jealous that he’s so close to diving off the stage and tackling Steve, which he knows is wrong.

Because truly, neither of you are doing anything wrong. You’re just a couple and Eddie was actually counting down the days, trying to slide in before you got together, but he’s too late. And he’s kicking himself for it.

He’s so focused on you and Steve that he’s not even paying attention to what he’s doing. He’s actually not even sure how he can keep up with his bandmates. He’s trying to focus on the lyrics he’s singing. The lyrics he wrote for you and how he feels about you.

You can’t believe how talented Eddie is. How this is what he’s really meant to do. You just know he’s going to make it and pretty soon, Corroded Coffin is going to sell out arenas, The Hideout being just the beginning.

He’s so into what he’s singing, his eyes closed. But you don’t know that he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to see you with Steve. The song is so romantic, unlike the band’s other songs. Eddie’s voice sounds so pained and you hope that he’s not speaking from personal experience. Even though it hurts thinking about him being with someone else, you’d hate for him to not be able to be with who he’s interested in.

He’s grabbed your attention as he goes into his guitar solo, the cords slower than what he’s used to. You’re hypnotized by the way his fingers slide across the strings, doing it so effortlessly that you can’t help but be impressed.

Steve sees the way you’re staring and pulls you closer to him to get your attention. How will it look if his girlfriend is looking at the lead singer like he’s hung the moon? He knows no one cares, but he does. He honestly only cares because of how badly he wants you to look at him like that. That’s all he’s ever wanted and he knows that he’s not going to get it. Because it’s just his luck that he'd be in love with someone who isn’t in love with him. He’s never anyone’s first choice.

The set ends and the two of you wait as Eddie and the band pack up their equipment. You’re supposed to go out to dinner with them afterwards and Steve is absolutely dreading it. He just wants to go home and drown himself in the bottle of tequila he bought the other night and listen to your favorite record on repeat.

You wait until Eddie is distracted and wrap your arms around Steve's neck, throwing your head back as a loud laugh escapes your lips. Steve somehow catches on and he laughs as well, his genuine because yours is just so damn contagious.

Eddie looks up from where he’s putting his guitar away and that feeling in his gut he’s been having since the two of you showed up gets even worse, to the point where it starts to hurt. Yeah, he’s not going out tonight. He’s going to curl up in his bed and write some of the most devastating lyrics.

And when he watches the two of you lean in for a kiss, well, you might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest. That would have hurt a lot less. Gareth follows Eddie’s line of sight and doesn’t even have to ask to know what Eddie is thinking.

He doesn’t see how no one else knows how Eddie feels. He’s so goddamn obvious that it’s become painful to watch. And he knows you like him too so seeing you show up with Steve really threw him off. He knows that Steve likes you too, so this whole thing is really just a mess. He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, especially not Eddie because he’s always getting the short end of the stick.

The rest of the members go out to dinner which you politely decline the invitation to since Eddie’s not going. You just have Steve drop you off at your apartment because being by yourself suddenly sounds so inviting. You just want to be by yourself because of how hurt you are that your plan is failing and it’s only started. How the hell are you going to continue when it’s not even effective?

So, the three of you wallow in your self pity in your respective rooms, hating how everything is turning out. It’s all so painful and unfair. Tears are shed and alcohol is drunk like water to numb the pain that you’re all feeling. Something that should be so simple has been complicated because you just had to go and pull Steve into your scheme instead of just being honest with him. And it seems like you’re going to pay for it, unknowingly hurting the both of them.

[eroticcaa]

tags: none!

I got the yellow eyed idea from the blog fhrlclln! Idk if she mind being tagged, but please check out her blog and some of her fics!

They say when the devils come, your flesh will burn and blister. Turning into ash. Wives will dance in gowns of fire. Laughing. Shrieking. As they burn, lewd and naked underneath the flames. You shall see children weeping, weeping. Till their eyes melt and slide down like jelly. Till their pink flesh falls back and crackling comes from their bones.

The strangers come, he comes, she comes. To scourge us for our sins. Tears can not quench the flames. Tears can not quench the thirst of a dragon. Only blood.

His blood. Her blood.

Fire and blood.

Blood and fire.

༯༯༯

He thought you were a sleeping beauty, with the way you laid, still, in the glass coffin shaped box. Hands neatly placed and folded over your mid-section, hair placed perfectly framing your face. A light baby blue hue shined down on you making your skin glow. You looked well groomed and dressed. He guessed the Jedi really do care for their own. Yet he snickered at the thought. Yeah, right. His fingers lightly traced over the top of the glass, directly over your body. His mask amplifies his breathing as it increases, as his fingers travel upwards, your breathing increases and becomes in sync with his, body twitching and jerking along with his fingers. As if you were one.

Your brows drew together in a wince of aggression.

Why? Why were they disturbing you? You just wanted to sleep.

No. You need to Wake. Up.

You gasped as your eyes snapped open, your harsh breathing making the glass fog up as you locked eyes with the masked intruder. Under the mask, his lips stretched into a smirk as he looked into your yellow eyes with blood red around the edges.

“You’re a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered.

You blinked and he was gone. Like he wasn’t even there to begin with. Your breathing got worse. No. No. Come back. Please. You ached to see the masked stranger again and you didn’t know why. Your breathing got worse and you blinked again hoping they would come back but a new face appeared in your field of vision. Her face.

can you only notice I’ve been watching HOTD? ‾̀◡‾́.

I’ve recently just finished the acolyte series and omg it was so good. I usually don’t watch Star Wars series or anything related to it cuz I always fall asleep or I’m confused lmao. BUT the acolyte… *mwah* chefs kiss.

pls like, comment and reblog [if ya want!]. might turn this into a little series. Nothing like fine men and dragons ˘ڡ˘.

© EROTICCAA 2024. DO NOT MODIFY, USE IN AI, COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN.

[spookysteddie]

Studio Sessions

18+ MINORS DNI

Modern!rockstar!Eddie x influencer!fem!reader

Series masterlist here

cw: voice recording during sex, reader gets insecure, studio times, fluff, flirting, pet names, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, dirty talk, reader gets what she wants.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: this got away from me... I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to send in requests for these two if you have them!! ALSO: this is the last post for them I'll have with a tag list... it's so much work and not that I dont love y'all ( I do) it's just hard. I hope y'all still love me and understand ❤️.

...

Is it normal to miss someone you just met? 

Is it normal to go on a few dates, sleep over their house like every night and still miss them immensely when they're gone? 

You and Eddie have spent every moment together since that first real date. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend yet? No. But you really don’t like to think too far into that one because then you’ll spiral, which is no good for anyone.

It didn’t matter too much. You knew it didn’t matter and you knew that he wasn’t fucking anyone else because he was either in your bed at night, or you were in his. I mean he could be fucking other people during the day, but you doubted it. 

Back to the missing him part. It feels weird to miss someone who is a few feet in front of you, who you can literally see. But here you are, Eddie standing on the other side of some glass gathering things, and you miss him. You can’t help your thoughts from wandering back to if he feels the same way. But also, why would he? Men don’t act like that, right?  

“Sweetheart, you ready?” Eddie's voice cuts through the fog of uncertainty. 

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. You were in the studio with Corroded Coffin, getting to watch their recording process. Eddie is right, there is something missing from a few of those songs, but you’re unsure if your voice is what is missing. You’re willing to try, though, still honored every agreed to this.

Eddie sets you up, putting headphones on you so you can hear the music. “Okay, sweet angel, don’t get too close to the mic because it can cause the sound to get a little weird. Got it?” 

“I got it.” You grin up at him. He kisses you sweetly, your body growing hot. 

He leaves, going to stand outside the booth with the rest of the band and his producer. He gives you a thumbs up, smile lighting up his face. He’s been more than excited that you agreed to do this. 

You hear a count before the music starts, you quickly look down at the lyrics sheet in front of you. When you get the cue you start, turning on the most bedroom voice you can manage, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you speak. “Mine, be mine. Love me. Never let me go.” 

You smirk at him as he squirms, his friends hitting his arm. You aren’t sure why it makes you happy to watch him squirm but it does. You let out a laugh, real and loud, instead of saying your next lines. 

The producer perks up, cutting off the music, “oh my god, that was amazing! I need more of those.” 

You feel your face get warm, a small and shy giggle leaving your chest. You don’t hear Eddie enter the room, but you can feel him. His energy calling to yours. You hum, not caring that they’re still recording you. 

He pulls your headphones off, “great job, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, baby.” You lean in kissing his lips. It’s quick, just enough to get a taste of him. “This is a lot of fun. I like this!” 

“You sounded very beautiful.” 

You giggle, looking up at him grinning, “I was just talking.” 

He kisses your forehead and whispers to you, “no. You were using that voice you use when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.” 

You freeze, looking up at him. He’s looking at you with that sexy smirk on his face, making your stomach flip and clit pulse. God, he’s so hot when he’s doing absolutely nothing, dressed in black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, dressing comfortably for the long day in the studio. You could kiss him, right now. 

No, scratch that, you could fuck him right now. You would if there weren’t six other people looking at you. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper, winking up at him. 

He kisses you quickly, leaving you wanting more as he pulls away. “Ready for the next one?” 

… 

You’ve been here for 8 hours. 

Between adding little snippets of your voice, the band recording the rest of their songs, adding background vocals and putting in instruments, it takes a while. And you are tired. So tired in fact that during their last two songs, you fell asleep on the little couch in the studio. 

You know this because you’re woken up by a soft voice and a hand brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Sweet angel? Hey, baby.” You know it’s Eddie's voice based on the softness and sweetness he reserves only for you. 

You stretch, groaning just a little as your joints crack, “m’sorry for falling asleep. Didn’t mean to.” Your voice sounds small and a little crocky with sleep. You cover your mouth as a small yawn slips out, “s’cuse me. I’m sorry.” 

He laughs, kissing your free hand, “don’t apologize. We had a long night and early morning. Could’ve gone back to my place and slept?”

You shake your head, “mm-mm. Gotta be supportive. It sounds great and your fans will love it.” 

His grins widens, lips meeting your knuckles. He looks tired too and you sort of regret keeping him up most of the night. Well, actually, it was a mutual thing. You’d tried getting him to go to bed but he just ‘couldn’t get enough’ and then when you tried again, while he was still inside you and growing soft, but the second he shifted, you were pushing him on his back and riding him. See, mutual. 

“I’m glad you think it’s great, sweet girl. But you won’t upset me if you go home.” 

Home. The word clangs through you and makes your head spin. It shouldn’t because he definitely didn’t mean anything behind it. It was his home so of course he’s called it just ‘home’ and you are for sure overthinking it. 

You shake your head, both to clear it and to answer him, “no. I can wait. How much longer?” 

“Like another fifteen minutes? I just need to listen to that last take and the boys need to add some background stuff. Then we can go.” His thumb is rubbing along your knuckles, his touch soft even if his hands are calloused. 

“I’ll wait.” 

And you do, this time staying awake. You post some instagram stories, making extra sure to mute it so you don’t spill a single note. Everyone loves the little insights to your time with Eddie, his fans enjoying seeing a different side to him. Of course, your parents still aren’t happy. 

You haven’t spoken to them since that phone call. You don’t need their opinions and Eddie has yet to be a bad person when it came to you. 

In fact, he’s good at planning dates and making sure no one follows. Blocking the paparazzi from getting unflattering photos of you. Sending you with security if needed. He cares. He cares more than anyone else ever has. 

It feels nice to date someone who doesn’t see you as a ticket to their fifteen minutes of fame. Who didn’t look at you as a way to further their own career. Sure, Eddie was more famous than you were, something the press loves to point out. But in some way you were on the same level. It was more than refreshing. 

“Ready?” 

You look up at his brown eyes and nod, letting him take your hand to help you up, your coat already in his hands. 

Once you both are ready to brave the slightly chilly weather, he takes your hand and leads you out. “There’s going to be people out here okay? Just so you're prepared.” 

You grin, looking over at him, “I am prepared, Eddie. I know the cost of dat- um, being seen with you.” 

If he catches your almost slip up, he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks, squeezing your hand as he opens the doors to the outside. Cameras flash and people scream, you’re practically blinded by the flashing bulbs. It doesn’t last long though, Eddie helping you into the car before getting in himself and closing the door, the sounds of screams muffled slightly.

“God, I love them but the screaming kills my ears,” he presses his finger to his ear, blocking it slightly before releasing it. 

You giggle, raising a brow, “aren’t you used to it? You hardly wear your ears on stage.” 

It was true. Eddie had this habit of taking out the ears he wears on stage, usually used to help keep beat as most artists can’t hear the music coming from the speakers. 

He shrugs, “ya aren’t wrong but I feel like I’m far enough away that the sound doesn’t hurt that bad? I really should keep my ears in so I don’t like lose my hearin’ before I’m 32.”

“Should hear it from the crowd,” you tilt your head slightly. “I had to get little ear plugs after the first time I saw you guys live. My ears rang for a few days after and I was yelling cause I couldn’t hear.” 

His eyes get wide, “that sounds awful. I should get ya some custom ears so you can hear what we’re doing on stage.” 

That makes your heart flutter a little, the fact that he wants you to hear all they do. “I don’t think I could deal with the metronome ticking.” He looks at you, “how do you know that happens?” 

You playfully roll your eyes, scrolling through your phone till you find a post you liked a little bit ago. “This. It’s a video of what Taylor Swift’s sound like inside. It was very interesting.” 

He watches it, three times actually. And then he giggles and scrolls, some familiar music starts to play and you already know what he’s looking at. Your face flames as you move to take your phone back. Unfortunately, he’s faster, moving so you can’t grab it from where you sit. 

He scrolls again, “you like these edits of me?” His tone is teasing and you feel like you’re going to die. He was never supposed to know you like thrist traps of him, most of them to his own songs. 

“E-Eddie give it back,” you plead with him. 

But he shakes his head, scrolling again and again and again. “These edits are actually really good. M’impressed. I also think it’s cute you like them.”  

You finally reach your phone, tugging it from his hands, “it’s rude to go through someone's phone, Eddie.” 

He fake pouts, “awww, are you embarrassed baby?” 

You don’t say anything as he coos at you because you are embarrassed that he saw those. But fuck, he looked so fucking hot in those edits. They make you feel things deep inside you, things you’ve used your vibrator to take care of. 

He leans forward, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I think it’s kind of hot you have those liked.” 

He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, soft kiss. That feeling comes back, the one with a voice that questions why he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. It’s been some time and you spend a lot of it together. You don’t want to push him, to make him look at you as needy or too much or annoying. That’s the last thing you want. You’ve heard it enough, from boyfriends, from your parents, from the people in your comment section. And the last thing you wanted was to hear it from Eddie. 

He breaks the kiss, his eyes scanning your face. Fuck he knows. 

“Are you okay?” He asks you with worry in his eyes. It kind of makes your chest hurt to worry him. 

“Oh yeah! I’m fine. Just… tired.” 

But, of course, he sees right through it, “no. You’re in your head. Come on… spill it.” 

You can’t. You want to express to him how you feel, to ask him to not waste your time. If he isn’t interested in you then you need him to tell you that so you can move on. But you know he is interested, you just sat and recorded bits for their album for fucks sake! He calls you sweet names and listens to what you have to say. He fucks you in a way you’ve never been before. He’s in tune to you and your needs, so the idea he doesn’t want you is absurd. 

But… “nothing. I just have that photo shoot coming up and I’m just nervous. It could make or break my career.” 

Half truth. You were nervous about the campaign. It could make or break your career if you didn’t do a good job or if people didn’t like it. 

He looks like he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push you further. You wish he would. 

… 

Eddie’s lips kiss along your chest, nipping a sucking sweet marks into the skin there. Marking you. Owning you. His hand moving up to tease your breast while his mouth sucks on the neglected one. 

His phone is set up beside you, the little red dot indicating he’s recording. It definitely catches the gasp you make as he works your chest, but he just feels so good you don’t think about it. 

He asked you six times before hitting record if you were okay with this, him voice recording. And you were, truly. He wanted your moans for his music but wanted some variety in there. So, he’s recording the entire round of sex. You’d be a dirty little liar if you said it didn’t turn you on. The idea that he’ll have this on his phone and in his music. Your moans immortalized on tape? It was hot as fuck. 

Eddie swaps sides, eyes meeting yours as he licks and sucks and bites. It hits you right at your center. He was hot as fuck, actually. Looking slightly feral as he kisses down your body. You can’t take your eyes off of his when he settles between your legs, putting them over his shoulders to give him more room. 

 “God you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he runs a finger through your slick, making you moan. “So pretty. Was so hot watchin’ you today.” 

“But I-” he licks up your slit, cutting you off what you were about to say. 

He sucks on your clit, making your back arch. It was insane to you how well he knew your body. He’s learned every dip, every curve of your skin. He’s learned exactly how to drag deep moans from you with his mouth, tongue and cock. Memorized them. He did it quickly too. 

“B-but I didn’t really do anything.” He slips two fingers inside you, stretching you out. “God! Fuck that feels good.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and curls his fingers. Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, turning your brain off with every thrust of his fingers.

“J-just like that, baby! Oh god, don’t stop.” You can feel the orgasm building deep in your belly, your whole body growing hot as you squeeze his fingers. “M-more. Eddie, I need more.” 

He adds a finger, the burn from the stretch feeling incredible. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just a babbling mess. This was typical when it came to the way Eddie worked your body. He’s the only one who’s worked you like this. 

Your orgasm hits you, mouth dropping open as your back arches on the bed, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!” 

You ride it out with Eddie’s help, his fingers slowing and his mouth coming off your clit with a soft pop. And when he finally removes his fingers, sucking them between his lips and moaning, you feel empty. You need him to fuck you, to feel him inside you. 

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just can’t get enough,” his voice drops a few octaves and you swear your heart stutters for a moment. 

“Please…” you whine. 

It hits you then that he is fully clothed and you are as naked as the day you were born. The dynamic is hotter than it should be, you might need to talk to your therapist about that. Or not. That’s an issue for another day. 

He pulls off his shirt, stomach flexing with the movement, “please what, angel?” 

His hands pull at his belt, tugging it through the loops before meeting the same fate as his shirt on the floor. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth and you forget the English language for a moment. He pops the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down as he waits for your answer. 

You manage to find it, “please fuck me. I-I need it.” 

He slides his jeans and boxers down his legs, his hard cock bobbing free. You squirm, licking your lips while your eyes rake over him. You need him, need him in many more ways than just sexually. You need him as yours, need him to love you. You can see the life you’d have if he called you his. Your babies would be beautiful thats for fucking sure. 

You don’t really have time to think further on it because Eddie slides inside you, his lips meeting yours and swallowing your moans. He tastes like you, cigarettes and weed. An odd mix but you love it anyway. 

“Shit, pretty girl. This pussy feels amazing. S’like you were fuckin’ made for me.” 

Your heart pounds and you know he can feel it, you can feel his. “I-I was. I was m-made for you, Eddie. Made for you” You kind of don’t mean for it to come out, but it can easily be brushed off as heat of the moment dirty talk. 

But there is something in the way he’s fucking you right now, something different. It’s slower than it has been, sweeter. Like he wants to take his time here, like he wants to feel every inch of you. His eyes shine with lust and something else, something he blinks away before you can decipher it. You have a feeling you already know what it is, because you feel the same way. 

“Yeah? You think so?” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Think we were supposed to end up here?” 

You’re going to die if he keeps talking like this. He’s actually going to kill you. More so because you do believe in the invisible string theory. Everyone can say you’re going too fast, but you think your string is attached to him. Everything about him screams it in confirmation.

“Y-yes. I do.” 

He kisses you soft and sweet, adjusting slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to his cheeks to hold him there while you kiss him. Again, it’s all slow and sweet and filled with emotion. 

“Glad we’re on the same page, baby.” 

He fucks you just a little faster, hitting all your sweet spots and making the coil in your belly twist tighter. “I- oh my god, Eddie.” 

He laughs, not straying from your lips, “I love when you pray to me.” 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a deep moan falling from your lips as your velvet walls squeeze him. It makes your head spin and you kind of feel like you’re going to pass out from how good it feels. You don’t, of course. 

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl coming for me. My pretty angel.” 

“Y-yours.” 

He nods, “mine.” 

Mine

Mine

Mine

Mine 

The word cycles through your head over and over, making you clench harder around him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck fuck FUCK!” 

He spills inside you as he moans your name. It’s angelic when he does it and you’re gonna make him send the recording to you immediately so you can hear it again and again. He collapses on you, being careful to not crush you with his weight. 

“I s-swear on my life, you’re the best I’ve ever had.” 

You giggle, shaking your head, “i bet you say that to every girl you fuck.” 

He lifts his head, his face serious, “no. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever said that to.” 

You just stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being made for each other?” He asks it quietly, like he’s afraid of anyone hearing him. Anyone but you. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. You can do this, tell him how you feel. Right? “I-I did. We fit together so well. Don't ya think?” 

Now it’s his turn to swallow, “I do… I meant it too.” 

You aren’t sure where this is going, but you hope to whoever the fuck is listening that it’ll go your way. 

“You did? You haven’t known me that long.” 

He shrugs, “so? You spend every night here, or me at your place. You get to know someone pretty quickly that way.” He laughs a little, pushing some of your hair out of your face.

Ask me 

Ask me 

Ask me

“I would agree,” you say as you run your fingertips up his arm.

“Would you agree to stay forever if I asked you to?” 

You hold your breath and nod. He gives you a look that makes you squeak out a small “yes.” 

A huge grin breaks out across his face, bright white teeth showing, “then stay. With me and be mine. And I’ll be yours. No more wandering around lookin’ for each other.” 

You blink away the burn behind your eyes, you cannot cry at someone asking you to date them, “n-no more wandering.”

[radiance1]

"You know what happened to Odin?"

"No, what happened to Odin?"

"Exactly, you cannot step foot in the mortal realm like you are now. Follow in Odin's footsteps."

"No, I don't want to follow in the Allfather's footsteps."

"Stop whining like a child and take a mortal form love."

"No, I will not."

[Deep inhale] "Do you know what happened to Loki?"

"Loki? The trickster? What happened to that one?"

"Well, he's currently still trapped inside of a cave, chained by his son's own entrails as a snake eternally drips poison onto him, but that is beside the point."

"No that is exactly the point."

"No, it is not. His fate has no relation to the main subject of our conversation."

"Yes, it does."

"No, it does not- No. Stop making that face. I am not doing this again."

"What face?"

"You know what you're doing. Stop it."

"I don't think I will."

[Exasperated exhale.]

"You should follow in the god of mischief's footsteps, even he- no especially he knew the point of a convincing disguise."

"Hmmm."

"No."

"Dearly beloved if you do not take on a mortal form while living out your farmer fantasy then so help me, I will place you back inside the coffin from which you came."

"..."

"That would be beautiful really, but no thank you I'll take that mortal form now."

"Good." Clockwork smiled

An hour later....

"Is this convincing enough for you, my love?" Pariah Dark adjusted the straw hat sitting upon his head, trying to shift it into a position better suited for his hair.

Clockwork hummed, floating around Pariah to take in his new form from every angle. "Well, it is certainly better than your first try."

"Then can I leave now?"

"No."

Pariah sighed. Feeling as hands were gently placed on his shoulders and slowly guided him down to rest on his own legs as he felt hands run through his hair and his straw hat gently taken from his head. He sighed with small indignation as crossed his arms. "I spent a while trying to fit that over my hair properly, you were the one who told me to fit in, so why take it off?" Pariah grumbled.

"Yes, yes. I know love." Clockwork's fingers gently worked themselves through his king's hair, a deep and long sigh leaving the man's body as he fully relaxed, causing Clockwork to smile.

As he worked, Clockwork hummed a small tune lost to the seas of time, causing Pariah to perk up slightly, before, a few minutes later, also joining his lover's humming.

"There we are." Clockwork removed his hands from the other's hair, and Pariah took that as a single to stand up. He turned his head, carefully pulling the braid over his shoulder, he then quirked a brow. "Where did you get the flowers from?"

"From here and there." Clockwork smirked, one that Pariah knew meant he was receiving no answer to his question from, so he shrugged, moving the braid off his shoulder. "So, where exactly are you going to send me?"

"Right, yes." Clockwork waved him over, pulling up a small mirror of time as he shifted through locations. "So, you'll be going to this world and..."

===

Pariah Dark stared down at the door, in one hand holding a basket as he brought the other up in preparation to knock before freezing.

How does one interact with a human outside of violence and threats again?

He shifted, not for the first time realizing that he had to crouch down to even fit to get to his new neighbors door.

Humans are intimated by height, right?

Should he shrink?

His beloved never walked him through how to talk with humans what does he do????

Should he leave?

But then his beloved would be disappointed...

Okay, first things first.

Knocking.

He gently brought his fist forward, and tapped his knuckles against the door frame, small thunks sounding out with each and every knock.

He tapped a bit harder, each series good louder than the last.

Okay, he thinks he's getting good at this! He's practically a natural!

Oh, the door opened.

The door opened.

"Hello?" An old mortal woman peered up at him, or tried to, at the very least, for his head was well above the door.

Pariah Cleared his throat, moving his hand back in a small wave. "Greetings, mortal-" Shoot. Normal mortals don't talk like that. "I am Pariah Dar- I mean Ark."

He coughed, moving his other hand forwards to present her with the basket. "I bring you an offering in hopes of creating an alliance-" Alliance, really Pariah? Really? "Between the two of us that will foster until the end of time!"

The human woman below hesitantly took the basket, probably shocked, and then just. Stood, there.

Ancients, did he accidentally kill her? He didn't even do anything! Were humans always so fragile?!

The woman cleared her throat, and stepped out of the doorway. "Thank you very much dearie, that's very kind of you!"

Why is she smiling.

Ancients she's smiling he wasn't prepared for this. His beloved never told him his neighbors would smile he wasn't ready-

Annnnd he already teleported away.

Pariah groaned, reaching up his hands to his hair before suddenly remembering who it was braided by, before lowering down to cover his face as he crouched besides his own house.

A nearby horse wandered over and nipped at his hair.

"I was supposed to get a name, Elizabeth." Pariah despaired. "A name!"

@pennerjones

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SEVEN: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which corroded coffin performs at the hideout (wc: 9.3k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF, jealousy, jealous!menace!eddie, the kiddos make an appearance!!!, uhmm kissing,,, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, uhm thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. SO VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. hopefully this makes up for it. as usual the song is by arctic monkeys, and the other song mentioned is lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. but we'll pretend like its all by corroded coffin so shshsh.

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

“Dude, I’m telling you it was not my fault.” Gareth exasperated desperately, hands up in the air in defeat.

But Eddie was quick to shake his head, “You drove her here, how is it not your fucking fault, Gareth?” He spat, bitter and angry. 

“She insisted! She wants to apologize to Pinky!”

“What?” Confusion etched across Eddie’s face. 

With an annoyed sigh, “Yeah, the whole fuckin’ world has to revolve around her,” Gareth muttered under his breath, knowing that saying anything about you would drive Eddie crazy. 

“Watch it,” Eddie warned, mouth downturned in disgust almost immediately. 

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Gareth, I’m not gonna tell you this a second fuckin’ time, okay? Don’t do that shit around me and never say one fucking word about her again, you got that?” He gritted through his teeth, his hand unintentionally clenching into a fist. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“I mean it,” Eddie spat.

“Fine, fine!” Gareth threw his hands up in defeat, both of them downing their drink before scurrying away. 

Shit.

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get a drink for the group, surfing through the sea of people—which was unusual for The Hideout. Still, you guessed the only celebrity from Hawkins was enough to have people swarming in, and Gareth and Eddie happened to be chatting right behind you. 

Even though it stung to hear Gareth talk of you like you were the fucking anti-christ, hearing Eddie defend you like that had that familiar warmth spread through your entire body. And you hated it, you hated the soft spot you’d always have for him, how it would take you back to five years ago when he would be there for you, every single time. 

Fucking great, you had so many people to avoid tonight; Chrissy, Gareth, and Eddie. 

With a sigh, you quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Plopping it on the booth with a slight sloosh. 

Everyone reached for it and you were quick to slap away Max, Lucas, and Dustin’s curious hands. “Oh, come on!” Max protested with a groan. 

“Not legal,” you hummed with a narrowed gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure you were legal when you were shotgunning beers and smoking joints like it was your lifeline during senior year,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quick to get settled into his seat with a huff. 

You gasped dramatically, “Lucas Sinclair!” Exclaiming as he gave you a simple shrug. 

“So what’s new with you and Mr. Rockstar, now?” He teased, and you narrowed your gaze at Max who snickered underneath her hand. 

“Nothing,” You mumbled, shying away from everyone’s gaze on you. 

“Good thing, we can always ask the other party, too,” Dustin chimed in with a smirk, head pointing toward behind you. 

There was a slow tap on your shoulder and you were quick to jerk your body around. 

Of course.

Eddie. 

His soft gaze was dumbly addicting, that boyish grin curled deliciously on his lips while amber eyes took you in wholly. 

His gaze wandered to your figure, the midnight blue dress embracing your figure, accentuating your curves, its hem grazed against your mid-thigh, allowing him to get a glimpse of your sun-kissed legs, simple but exuding how breathtakingly pretty you were. 

He couldn’t place why your brows were so tightly pinched together, or why your arms were crossed against your chest, plump lips downturned with a pout. Still, you looked so pretty, so alluring that he could barely form any sentence. 

Mind captured entirely by you, almost feeling paralyzed while he took you in. 

“H—hey!” He stammered, awkwardly putting his hands in the back pocket of his chained black jeans. He was just him, and oh, god, you were you. 

Plush lips that curled into the prettiest smile, the most captivating eyes, even when you seemingly looked upset, brows pinched together, those glossy lips downturned, you were perfect. 

You ignored Eddie’s greeting, your piercing glare was still not that noticeable to him, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked, and how he was glad that he saw you before his set. He wanted nothing more than to see you watching him perform the songs he wrote all about you. 

“Wow… Uhh—you look… amazing,” He mumbled, breath getting hitched on his throat when he saw your unreadable expression. 

And all you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile. Almost immediately wiping that glow off of his face, face going momentarily blank. 

But he should’ve expected this, he knew you wouldn’t jump into his arms at any opportunity, he deserved this. He needed to do more, he needed to win you back. 

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate, needing your approval, but you interrupted. “I—I’m going to get a drink,” you mumbled, face flushed with heat, you didn’t know how to act either. 

Eddie glanced over at the tray of drinks on the booth, with his head tilted, “there’s a bunch of drinks over there,” he mumbled, he didn’t want you to leave. 

“I can see that, but I still want my own,” you sassed with a narrowed gaze, not letting him talk back once you left to go to the bar. 

Eddie watched your figure leave with a deep sigh, turning to the booth to take one of the drinks. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Steve muttered with a nod, and Eddie was quick to give him a death glare. 

“So, will you finally enlighten us on what happened with you and Mrs. Grumpy over there?” Dustin huffed impatiently, grabbing three drinks from the tray now that you were gone, handing the other two to Max and Lucas with a grin.  

“She didn’t tell you guys?” 

“No! Which is a shame because she usually can’t say no to my adorable face.” Dustin blinked quickly, batting his eyelashes while Eddie shook his head at him with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, Eddie, just tell us!” Max let out an impatient huff, her captivating icy blue gaze was pleading in a way that he could never say no to.

These doofuses would always be his weakness. 

“Yeah, Eddie, pretty please?” Lucas added exaggeratedly, mocking Max as she hit him in the chest playfully. 

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, running his hand over his forehead in frustration.  

“But nothing really happened and I don’t think it’s—” When he felt everyone’s gaze piercing through him, he was quick to shut up.  “Okay, okay!” He huffed.  

“She came to my trailer guns ablaze and then just slammed the note against my chest, calling me a coward, and then I told her off—”

“Wait what?” Max was quick to interrupt him, brows pinching together. 

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t the one who left.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, didn’t you kiss Chrissy in front of her?” Max taunted.

“Yeah, and did you not bring her to Steve’s?” Dustin added. 

With a huff, he turned back to Steve. “Jesus, Harrington, did you gang up all of them against me?” He just gave Eddie a shrug. 

“That’s not even the point! Everything has just become too convoluted with us,” He spat, anger returning quicker than you intended to, while the rest of the gang sipped their drinks with an ‘oof’.

“It’s not convoluted, just tell her how you feel!” Max inquired, gently, almost like she was trying not to tip him off. 

“I—” He took a deep breath. I will. He wished to say, but saying it out loud felt too real. And you were right, he was a coward.

“I’m gonna properly apologize and make things right by her,” he muttered, taking a big sip from his drink. 

“You better hurry up, rockstar,” Steve taunted smugly, the weird face he pulled was making crinkles appear on Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie’s head cocked toward Steve, aggressively. “You better tell her how sorry you fucking are.”

With an all-knowing snort, Steve’s finger accusingly pointed towards something behind him. “Or someone else might swoop in.” 

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes before he turned around with a huff. 

Oh, shit. 

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Steve’s accusatory finger, a slight ‘shit’ escaping from Robin’s lips which Nancy elbowed gently to shut her up. 

Eddie could barely move, his entire face feeling hot and jaw clenching involuntarily, jealousy shooting through him faster than the alcohol swimming in his system. 

Because there you stood, in front of the bar, with your head tilted sideways, a pretty grin sitting on your lips, mellow gaze looking up at the guy in front of you—dirty blonde, hair cut shorter than Eddie’s but almost as long as Steve’s, wearing the most expensive and tidy outfit Eddie had ever seen—making him feel stupid for choosing to wear those black chained jeans. 

His scowl was anything but pretty, brows furrowing in a way that made him look like a complex puzzle, eyeing the way this stranger was touching you. 

“Oh, isn’t that—” Robin spoke up, and the entire table shushed her because they also realized exactly who that was. 

James.

Your ex, not Billy, of course, the other douchebag before Billy. 

He really wasn’t much of a douchebag, a genuine, nice guy, and to make matters worse he was a total gentleman; attributes Eddie would never call a typical high school Jock. 

The relationship only ended because he went to college one too many states away, the distance getting between the two of you, but Eddie always referred to him as ‘the douchebag’ The jealous feeling sunk into his chest even then. 

Rich kid, a jock in high school, older than both of you, someone who had his life together. Everything that Eddie never was. Everything Eddie always wished to be.

But now, seeing you with him made something almost click in Eddie’s head, like he was meant for you as he suited you much better than Eddie ever would. 

He could treat you much better than Eddie would, sure Eddie had his name now, the riches he never had back in high school. But he was still just Eddie.

And he was certain James never kissed Chrissy, he’d never fuck up like Eddie did.

He watched the way your eyes lit up when he was animatedly talking, his gentle touch on your arm, the smile that curled on your lips. 

What if he asked for your number? What if he wanted to reconnect? What if you said yes? Just because Eddie had been a total fucking idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him? 

He tried so hard to push the idea of the two of you together back into his mind. To make sure it never left, to make sure it never manifested. 

But the way his jaw clenched and the deadly glare burning through both of you showed that he couldn’t. 

He was jealous, a type of jealousy that quickly translated into anger, one he could almost feel on his skin, hot and prickling rage stabbing into his body, agonizingly slow, making it harder for him to stay glued there and not do anything the more he eyed the hold James had on you. He was standing too close for Eddie’s liking. 

Usually, he’d let this feeling sink back into his mind, take a breather, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and then act like nothing was wrong for the rest of the night while he spent it sulking. Keep that rage caged in his chest, so he could keep his feelings contained. 

But he couldn’t do that this time, no. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, not again. He was going to fight for you, he was going to show you that you belonged with him. 

No matter what Mr. Fancy Pants could offer to you, he needed to tell you how he really felt, he needed to make sure you knew. Because even if he could feel the insecurities jabbing into his brain, he always knew, deep down that there was something there between the two of you. Something always left undiscovered because both of you were cowards.

He couldn’t let that happen again, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Oh, I get the appeal now,” Max murmured, breaking the silence between everyone, and earning a hard glare from Eddie. 

“What? He seems nice, has pretty hair, much better than Steve’s, and that outfit probably cost more than your wedding,” Max spoke bluntly, now earning more than just the hard glare of Eddie, mouth hung open Steve looked offended, Nancy and Jonathan narrowed their gaze, but Robin snickered behind her hand, almost giving Max her approval. 

“Max!” Lucas reacted before them and Max furrowed her brows, a smirk earning her way to her lips. “You’re still my number one Lucas, don’t worry,” She hummed, pinching Lucas’ cheek and ignoring Dustin’s groan.

“Dude, why would you do that?” Dustin whispered, eyeing Eddie worriedly while nudging Steve by his jacket. 

With a dramatic huff, Steve pulled his collar back, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” 

Eddie’s fingertips absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in front of him, his eyes never leaving the two of you when he downed the drink, slamming it back on the booth, making everyone flinch. 

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie muttered, a forced chuckle escaping his lips. 

“What are you even going to do?” Robin inquired, almost mocking.

A smirk landed on Eddie’s face. “I’m not going down without a fight, Buckley.” 

“Not this fucking time,” he hissed, almost all the brows of the gang raising at his determination.

“I’m gonna tell her how I feel, and I’m not letting another douchebag ruin this,” Eddie mumbled, and a dumb smirk was placed on everyone’s face almost too quickly.

He was going for it, and the soap opera was continuing, the gang watched in excitement.

“Was he ever really a doucheba—” Dustin’s worries were quick to die down when he threw him a deadly glare.

Without another word, he stormed off to the side of the bar. Quick, too fucking quickly that it almost gave him a whiplash. He didn’t know what had taken over him, eyes burning the back of their figures as everyone else at the table watched him with a proud look. 

But the child-like jealousy he felt within his body was uncontainable, it felt like his face was almost too hot to touch, he was desperate, quite literally. 

The tap on James’ shoulder was anything but gentle, making him turn to Eddie with his pair of brows furrowed, and Eddie’s muscles were quick to tense. 

His dark gaze only softened when he looked back at you, muscles relaxing, and creased brows returning to their normal form. 

The jealousy eased inside of him, not dissipating quite enough, but slowing with one gaze from you.

Back in the booth, with another sip from his drink, Lucas huffed, “Five bucks says they’ll confess by tonight.” 

Robin was quick to snort at him, “You’re trusting them too much, kid, Steve’s ‘little push’ might help them,” She mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at her face, she’s going to go off at him. The most they’ll probably do is have another fight, get just a little bit close to talking about their feelings, and then do it all over again.”

Steve, ignoring Robin’s theories, exclaimed with a smirk. “Ten bucks that Pinky will sleep with Eddie tonight!”

“I second that,” Max said with a grin.

“Steve!” Nancy warned with a disapproving tut. 

“What?” He huffed. 

“They’re kids!”

“We’re nineteen!” Max groaned. 

“I turn twenty next month!” Dustin chimed in. 

“Still!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve sighed with a glare at Nancy, “Then ten bucks that they’ll kiss tonight!” 

“No fucking way.” Robin shook her head. 

“Nah, they’ll at least kiss tonight,” Jonathan said with crossed arms. 

“Are you guys seriously betting on our friends?” Nancy said with a furrowed brow. 

They all nodded vigorously, “Fine,” Nancy muttered. 

“Then I second Steve, ten bucks for them sle-kissing.” Nancy corrected herself, earning a wicked grin from Steve. 

“Come on!” Robin groaned, dissatisfied by Nancy’s answer. 

“I agree with Robin,” said Dustin with a shrug.

“Finally!” Robin exclaimed, hands rubbing together in victory. “Someone with common sense. There’s no way those idiots are going to do anything but fight, just watch her come back here, all fuming about how much she hates Eddie.”

They all shrugged, going back to continue watching the soap opera unravel in front of them. 

“James!” Eddie greeted with faux excitement, a grin playing on his lips, amber gaze remaining on you. With your brows creased, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ you mouthed behind their awkward hug.

He shrugged, and his hands clutched James’ shoulder harshly, making him chuckle awkwardly. “Munson, the man of the hour!” He greeted him with a beaming smile.

He really was too nice for his own good, wasn’t he?

“I’d ask what you were up to, but it seems you’ve been doing just fine, rockstar,” James exclaimed, returning a friendly slap to Eddie on his shoulder—in a much nicer way than Eddie intended with his.

You smiled uncomfortably, your gaze still throwing daggers at Eddie, who was actively avoiding it. “I have to say that last album? Fucking Christ, had it playing over and over again for days.” He beamed again, much to both of your dismay.

That all-knowing smirk on Eddie’s face disappeared, the unexpected compliment seemed to make him uncomfortable, conflicting with the defensive walls he had put up.

“Uhh—thanks man,” he chuckled awkwardly, casting a quick, scrutinizing glance at you, catching the small smirk on your lips.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, curiously, desperate to know what the two of you were talking about, nervous to see if the two of you would do anything more than this.

The confidence in the way James held himself, his slicked hair, his fancy outfits up close, Eddie’s insecurities washed him over once again. Now with that part of his brain convincing him that the two of you would somehow end up together again.

“Oh, you know, I was just in town, got a nice job here, thought I’d stop by to see Corroded Coffin play, been seeing the posters everywhere—great marketing by the way,” He hummed, flashing Eddie a smile. 

And Eddie returned a forced one, lips pursed together in annoyance. “and then I thought I’d get a drink, but then I heard this familiar voice next to me, yelling to the guy next to her to fuck off for attempting to steal her drink, and I thought oh that’s Pinky.” Eddie couldn’t help but not keep his gaze on you, studying your features, almost gauging your reaction, trying to nitpick something to fuel his jealousy. 

“Been a long time, but I’d never miss this one’s sassy voice and that pretty face,” He mumbled with a sly smirk, making Eddie’s face scrunch and almost making him scoff out loudly. 

“Oh, stop it!” You mumbled with a smile, all flattered, and Eddie’s gaze narrowed, jealousy overtaking him again. 

“So you two are… reconnecting for the old times' sake, huh?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Eddie—”

With a smile, James turned to you, “I mean I’d love to grab a drink, are you free tomorrow?”

“Ah! I wish I could, but I need to help Nancy out with some wedding stuff.”

“How about next wee—”

“She’s busy,” Eddie interjected quickly. 

“Eddie!” You warned with your brows raised, heat rising to your cheeks, what the fuck was he doing? 

“Can I just—steal you away for a minute?” Eddie turned to you with his jealous gaze, hand gently having a hold on your arm. 

“Oh, sure, man!” 

“No!” You and James exclaimed in unison. 

James stared at the two of you with his brows furrowed, both of you breathing heavily, an intense gaze connecting the two of you. With a sigh, you followed him out of the crowd, an apologetic smile thrown toward James. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

You scoffed, “Me? What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” You snapped, naze garrowing. 

“I’m not locking lips with James that’s for sure!”

“Jesus Christ I was not locking lips with—” You halted abruptly, the absurdity of the sentence hitting you like a wave. Taking a moment to breathe, “What are you a child?”

“Well, if pointing out the obvious means I’m a child then so fucking be it!” The words tumbled out of his mouth harshly, almost lost in the din of the bar. 

“The obvious? Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed Chrissy?” You accused sharply, your anger returning and cutting through Eddie’s jealousy like a knife. 

“Look, I—I’m genuinely sorry for that, Pinky, I am. I should’ve never done that, it was a mistake—” His voice strained, getting lost amidst the background clamor, their set was about to start and Eddie could careless. 

He took a step closer, but you didn’t budge. “You don’t kiss someone as a mistake, Eddie! You don’t invite them to brunch as a fucking mistake!” You snapped, tone a poignant mix of bitterness, jealousy, and an equal amount of hurt. Teary yet ablaze gaze bored into Eddie's, breaking his heart more and more. 

His shoulders sagged under the weight of your words, the realization of the irreparable damage sinking in. 

He took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap.“Will you just listen to me?” Eddie's plea hung in the air, the room seemingly shrinking as you and Eddie’s gaze connected. Your breaths mingled, heavy with unspoken words that pulsed between you. 

Only inches apart, and you couldn’t help it when your gaze drooped down to his lips, then back to his mellow eyes.

“Eddie, this is the fifth fucking time they’ve been calling you.” Gareth’s irritating voice snapped the conversation, loud enough to have you almost jump back, as you threw Gareth a daggering gaze. 

“Just fucking wait for a second,” Eddie spat, trying to dismiss him, but the moment was gone. 

And Gareth wasn’t having it. “No way, dude we go on in like five minutes,” He scoffed, momentarily dragging Eddie by his arm.  

“Fine, fine!” Eddie scowled, shaking off the hold.  

“You should uh— go.” 

“Let me explain,” He almost begged, desperate. 

But with another dismissal, you left. 

Eddie wanted to drop everything and run to you, apologize, tell you what he felt, but somehow, some way he was always managing to fuck up the things between the two of you, now. 

It was like he was fourteen again, his dad letting him know that he always managed to fuck up something good, that he was destined to the Munson name. Like he could never manage to do something right.

Wayne, Jonathan, Corroded Coffin, and Nancy all changed that belief. 

But, you? Oh, god, you made him believe that he was good, you pulled him out of that darkness, you were the first one to believe in him, you were the one who encouraged him. You made him feel like he was on the right path, always. 

And you were the one who mattered, if he didn’t have you believing that now, what else did he have? 

With a hand on his shoulder, Jeff was dragging him back, he stared at your figure leaving, and with a sigh, he headed backstage. 

-

Aurora was the fifth song they sang, and it should’ve gotten to you, the way his gaze didn’t leave yours, how vulnerable he sounded, the way he barely even made eye contact with the guitar he was supposed to be focusing on, that should’ve gotten to you. 

But it didn’t. 

Your glossy gaze and your crossed arms, as everyone else around you cheered for him, did nothing but upset you more and more. 

Everything was so confusing that you couldn’t even make sense of yourself anymore. Yes, you were mad about everything with Chrissy, but you also knew he didn’t know everything that transpired between you and her. 

Chrissy and Billy should’ve been enough for him to not want anything to do with her, yet you still believed him when he told you it was a mistake, that he would’ve never done it if he knew. And the pool… the things he said in the car. Hours ago when you went to his trailer.

Sure, he was sorry, and he said he’d prove himself to you. 

But none of you ever out loud said anything, it had always been a cowardice dance around your feelings, and you were afraid that if this dance ended, then it would be all too real. It would all be over.

A heave of breath exited your lips, attempting to drown away the worries, but they were spiked up the second the song ended and Eddie spoke up again. 

“This next song is for my friends over there, Nancy and Jonathan,” He exclaimed with a grin, finger excitedly pointing towards the two of them, it was the first time his gaze had left yours, involuntarily your head turned to your right. 

“They’re getting married this weekend, and were kind enough to let me and my dipshit friends play,” He said with a sheepish grin, and Nancy and Jonathan shyly smiled at him, waving him off in a dismissive way, 

“So this is for the soon-to-be newlywed couple, and for the special girl next to them, who’s mad at me for a lot of reasons, and she has every right to be, I was a total ass.” He earned chuckles and some cheering from the crowd, who unintentionally all faced you. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but hey, maybe this might help my case, huh?” He said with a grin, his gaze was dangerously addicting, full of promises, and you couldn’t help the way it made stupid butterflies appear in your stomach. 

It was so easy for him to get you like this, you were starting to feel pathetic. 

Speechless, and the heat quick to rise to your cheeks, you were trying to ignore the whispers and stares from the crowd, but it was basically impossible. 

The opening chords were enough to rattle your memory, the dreamy guitar riffs from Eddie sweeping in echoing the space as if it was just the two of you. 

You knew exactly which song he was playing. 

And the vocals, added with Eddie’s smooth, sultry voice were enough to have your heartbeat raising making you almost feel small, haziness overtaking your mind. 

And it only brought back one memory to your mind. 

FIVE YEARS AGO.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

Another job interview, another opportunity you feel like you have missed.

It hadn’t been long since the two of you had arrived in Los Angeles, yet every passing minute felt like you had been wasting away your time, you needed a job, and no one in stupid LA was hiring you. 

A groan escaped your lips when you plopped yourself onto the couch, right next to Eddie who was way too into scribbling something into a notebook. 

Wait… was he using the…? 

“Is that… the notebook?” Your eyes lit up happily. It was such a small, stupid thing. 

But for you, it was important. That notebook was important. And you never actually thought he’d care about it, but it looked like he was carrying it in his back pocket. 

“Is that a crime?” Eddie sassed.

With a scoff, you narrowed your gaze. “No, doofus! I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.” 

Almost taken aback Eddie sat up straight on the couch, knees brushing against yours now. “Are you kidding? Half of this bad boy is filled with lyrics.”

“What is the other half made of?” You asked with a dangerous grin. 

“You’d have to kill me to find out.” Eddie enunciated dramatically, tone drooping lower to mimic mystery. 

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, curiosity getting the best of you. Scooting closer to him, you pouted. “Can’t you at least give me something?” You asked, all doe-eyed, tone sticky sweet, in a way that always got to Eddie. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” He groaned, almost melting into you, “You know I’ll give you anything if you ask that sweetly.”

You grinned happily, clapping your hands together in victory once he ripped up a page and handed it to you. 

“That is the chorus of a song I’m working on,” He mumbled, eyes nervously following you, waiting to read your reaction.

She's thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She's thunderstorms

Your eyes blinked quickly to process everything. It had been not too long since the both of you had come to L.A., Eddie was desperately trying to send the band’s best material to any label who was willing to sign them. 

And you had just gotten out of a horrible relationship, things had not been steady enough for the two of you to ever discuss anything about your feelings, always tip-toeing around it, but too scared to ever actually delve into it. 

Yet, you could tell this was about you, something about being described as thunderstorms stuck to your mind, maybe he somehow meant it as good. But all it reminded you of was destruction. And he wasn’t wrong. 

It was like everywhere you went, something horrible followed, exactly like a dark cloud looming over, waiting to strike anyone daring to be near you. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, teeth grazing through your nails anxiously. “Who’s this thunderstorm girl?” You asked, masking your nervousness with a brittle smile. 

He snatched the notebook back, ignoring your little huff. “Someone I went to school with,” He answered cooly and then leaned further into your face with a grin. “I was drivin’ around one day, then saw this girl’s car on the side of the road, to be nice I helped fix her car but then she became totally obsessed with me.” He recalled the first time he met you, animatedly.

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah, didn’t leave me alone for years.”

With a narrowed gaze, “Asshole,” you bantered.

“That’s so weird,” He hummed with a smirk “That was her favorite nickname for me,” quipped Eddie and you stuck your tongue at him childishly. 

With a slight push on his elbow, he drew closer to you. “So… what did you think?” He coaxed nervously, you could tell it was important to him, yet being this close was making your mind spin. 

“I like it,” you muttered, unable to face his beautiful features when he was so close, and your mind spinning with the fact that Eddie thought of you as destructive, too.

“That’s it? You… just like it?”

“No that’s not it, it’s just—” With a sigh you snatched back the notebook from his hands. “It’s just… isn’t this bad?” 

“What?” His brows creased together in worry, “W-which one did you not like I can change it-” You shook your head, interrupting his anxious ramble.

“No! I love all of them! But describing… uh—this girl,” Tip-toeing around it, causing Eddie to smirk. “As thunderstorms? Isn’t that bad?” 

“No, not at all. It’s a metaphor.” He shook his head, explaining gently.

“She embodies the essence of thunderstorms—unpredictable and explosive. She has the power to create chaos and destruction, and on the surface that might sound bad, yet within that destruction she sparks a new life. You know, making it so much better,” He hummed, licking his lips.  

“And she also feels like a thunderstorm, intense and electrifying, shaking up your life, in the best way possible.”

“Oh. Wow,” You mumbled, gaze turning mellow with how well he explained everything, heart melting with how he saw you, not just from the surface, like he could peel the intricate layers of your existence, appreciating every part of it. 

“Uhh, then I love that actually,” you concluded with a smile, attempting to mask the fluttering in your stomach. Did he really see you in that way? 

Did he really see you as someone worth all of this? You tried to ignore the tears prickling in your eyes, begging to pour out, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment. 

You didn’t deserve him. In the slightest. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in your bullshit. You shouldn’t have dragged him here. You were being selfish, but, god, did it feel good. 

To finally feel safe, to finally have someone take care of you, to finally have someone you could rely on. After everything, didn’t you at least deserve to be a little selfish? 

But that feeling ate away at you, even though you shook it off for the moment, it was eventually going to return. And it did. 

“You do?” His brows raised in surprise, it made you want to fuck all and just grab his cheeks and kiss him, lips plush together until the two of you couldn’t breathe. 

But you couldn’t afford that, you couldn’t afford the feelings, nor could you afford the fallout. You couldn’t lose him. 

“Mhmm,” You answered with a broken smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always did.  

“She sounds special.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, eyeing you with a worried look. “Very, very special,” He repeated, he could tell something was off. 

But it was okay, because he was here for you now, and he wasn’t going to leave. 

NOW:

Suddenly the room felt suffocating. 

Eddie’s gaze on you felt mocking.

It was stupid, he had just dedicated the song to you, yet all your mind could focus on was everything bad that had happened. Ruining everything good that happened with him. 

How were you even going to be with him if you couldn’t even handle this?  

Fear, trust issues, being afraid of not knowing how things were going to go, if you would fuck this up too, then that was it for you. No one else could compare, and you knew that. 

Maybe if you just knew that the same went for Eddie, if you just could see that the five years you spent apart had been just as hell-ish for him if not more. The constant thoughts in his mind reminded him that he could never be over you, truly. Sure, it hurt less now, but the scar was still there, scabbing the second someone mentioned you. The realization of knowing no one could ever be you etched onto his skin. 

“Hey… you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts, Eddie’s voice served as a background noise while his gaze was still stuck on you. 

“Y-yeah, I just—” You faltered, face growing numb and anxiety increasing when you suddenly needed some air. 

Too much, all of it was too much. 

Eddie could almost sense it, he grew worried at your frowny brows and your tear-streaked gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, body jerking back scurrying out quickly when you ignored everyone calling out for your name. 

Eddie’s vocals almost halted, missing a few notes on the guitar before Gareth was quick to snap him back to it. 

His head cocked toward your direction, desperate, nearly begging to stop the show, but all of them shook their head quickly, and once Eddie turned back to see the look on Jonathan and Nancy’s face, he realized he couldn’t do this to them. 

This was his friends' wedding, and he owed this to them. When the song ended, he was quick to mouth to the others, “After the next song, we’re taking a break.” It wasn’t a request, it was final.

And frankly, the rest of them were too tired out to even argue with a hot-headed Eddie.

“So how is your plan working, dingus?” Robin jeered at Steve.

“Shut up.”

There were a couple more people outside, all leaning against the wall, chuckling while talking over each other loudly, the smoke of their lit cigarettes quick to take over your senses. 

With a cough, you leaned further away from them, mind still unraveling what had just happened. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore. 

You wanted to smoke, hand itched to reach for the pocket of your jacket and light one to take away your stress, but you could barely breathe as it was right now. 

A light tap on your shoulder snapped you away from your thoughts. 

Who was it now? 

You huffed loudly when your head cocked back.

Fucking great. 

Chrissy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, this just had to be your luck, your feet picked up quickly, hand quick to reach for the door and go back inside.

“Please, please don’t leave,” She pleaded.

Your hold on the door remained, barely glancing back at her, “Just leave me alone!” You snapped. 

“I just want to apologize, please, then I’ll leave you alone, forever.”

“Please, just five minutes.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. 

Your hold on the door faltered, and with a deep sigh, you turned to her. “Fine.”

“Five minutes,” You warned, your patience already wearing thin.  

Her face lit up, blinking a few times to make sure she heard you correctly. “O-oh, okay, good,” She cleared her throat.

“First of all, I’m sorry, for everything, for what I said five years ago, for what I did with Billy, for using what he did to you like a fucking joke. For w-what I said about your parents.” She stammered.

“It’s too late, I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done any of those things, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved a better friend, someone like you.” She almost looked at you like she was waiting for your approval, gauging your reaction, your expressionless face encouraged her to continue. 

“I was bitter, jealous. Which isn’t a fucking excuse, I know, I was just—” she took a deep breath. “You were everything I wanted to be, careless, had all the boys' attention, and you didn’t even have to try, you didn’t have to do anything, and they’d just fall at your feet. And I was stupid, bitter, and insecure enough to envy that.”

“That’s not my problem, Chrissy.” You spat out with your gaze narrowing, you couldn’t handle her pity party right now.

“And really, you wanted to be me? Chrissy I didn’t have parents, my boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole.I was broke.” You scoffed with an ironic chuckle, shaking your head in anger.

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve any of that.” Sincerity. Something you haven’t seen from her in years.

“I just wanted to tell you that none of it was your fault.” Now your gaze narrowed, a chuckle rolling on your lips. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest. “No, I know you’re going to say you didn’t think that but I know you do. Even though you hate me, which I don’t blame you, I know you like the back of my hand, you blame yourself, you always did it. And I’m telling you shouldn’t because it was all my fault. A-and I shouldn’t have done whatever I did with Eddie, I practically took advantage of him like he did to me and then got mad at him, oh god, I’m such a fucking bitch, aren’t I?”

Your eyes blinked quickly to process all of it. Her apology didn’t mean anything, her words didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you knew she was right, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Because you spent many nights blaming yourself, for even opening up to them in the first place. 

“First of all, breathe,” you mumbled with annoyance.  

“Second of all, yes you are,” you huffed. 

“And, taking advantage? What do you mean?” 

“Some fucked up part of me wanted him because I knew you wanted him back then, a-and he was right there and he was being nice to me and—” Chrissy took a deep sigh, big blue eyes staring into you knowing that you were not going to like what she was going to say.

“I should’ve known.”

With puckered brows, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Known what?” 

“That he was still hung up on you,” she muttered.

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Chrissy—”

“No, no just listen.” But she wasn’t going to let you spiral.

“Look you were dumb enough then—” You threw her a glare, so daggeringly cold that she stopped.  

“Sorry,” she muttered before continuing, “Look, the two of you wasted a lot of time. And I know it’s funny hearing this from me because I took part in it, but I’m only saying this because he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t particularly like him right now, he’s a nice guy, and you deserve someone like him.” She enunciated, azure hues embodying such sympathy that had you taken aback.

“You loved him back then, too. I could see it, and I could see it in him, too. That’s what I always wanted, and maybe that’s why he intrigued me so much. But I knew he never got over you.” 

You could feel your heart skip a beat, it wasn’t anything new, but hearing this from her, it meant something. 

You needed to take control of your feelings, and hearing Chrissy’s words was doing nothing but fuel them more. “Chrissy stop—”

“No, Pinky! He told me! He told me it was you! It had always been you!” She exclaimed, her face growing a nice pink color as you stood frozen.

Your brain felt mushy, rest of your body felt so warm, but still that anger lingered. Why couldn’t he just tell you this? Why couldn’t he just show you?

“What?” You mumbled, brows pinched together.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, sighing at your reaction.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you this, and tell you to get your head out of your ass. I know I’m the last person you wanted to hear this from, but I had to at least make one thing right for you because I know I fucked up every other thing.”

You wanted to tell her to stay the fuck out of it, you wanted to tell her it was all because of her. That she basically ruined your life. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t all her, it was Billy, too. It wasn’t all her, Eddie played a part in it, too. 

But you weren’t going to waste your breath, you didn’t need to blow up in her face for her to know she was wrong, she needed to let that feeling sink in. You weren’t going to forgive her, and you didn’t need to make a fuss about it to feel real. 

This was it. A closure. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. And I know that you won’t forgive me, but that’s okay. I’m sorry, but please listen to what I just said. Please don’t get in your head and try to ruin something this perfect, okay?”

A peaceful smile appeared on your lips, and you took a deep breath. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” You weren’t going to give her any satisfaction or approval, her words didn’t mean a thing. 

“Goodbye, Chrissy.” You mumbled. 

You could see her stammering, struggling to open her mouth, because she couldn’t say anything else, and this is what she promised, five minutes. It was over. 

You backed yourself against the wall, fingers fishing out the pack of cigarettes sitting in the pocket of your jacket. 

Without having anything else left to say, she left. And you heaved a sigh of breath, the tip of your cigarette smoldering when you lit it. 

You inhaled with eyes squeezed shut, head swirling with much to think about. But at least you were alone. Finally, some space for you to think, and to lay out a little bit of your stress with the most unhealthy outlet.  

And of course, that peace lasted for about a few minutes, just when you had finished your cigarette, squishing the remains on the nearest trashcan, Eddie appeared, lightly squeezing your arm to have your attention.

“What?” You snapped when you saw him, eyeing the way he looked taken aback. 

His hands held up in front of his chest in defeat, clearly not understanding your sudden rage. The laughter around you had died, people who were smoking outside the bar were clearly more entertained by your drama. 

With a huff, you dragged Eddie away from it all, still close to the bar but far away to not have any other distractions. 

He sighed, brows etched with worry. “Why did you leave?”

Your hand flew to your forehead, trying to calm your nerves, trying to clear your mind. “Eddie, are you kidding me?” You scoffed, arms wrapped across your chest defensively. “You can’t just drag me away from James, dedicate songs to me and—”

His forehead puckered. “Why not? They’re all about you anyway,” he said with a sly smirk. 

“Aurora, She’s Thunderstorms, Zero, Forget Her, Resolve, Fool, two fucking albums, all dedicated to you, you know that.”

“These notes? These stupid notes I’ve been carrying?” He huffed loudly, hand quick to fish inside of his back pocket, aggressively flipping through the pages. “Even if every nerve in my body were numb I’d still be able to feel her.” He turned the page toward you before flipping again. 

“I have tried to forget you but I can’t, you invade my dreams, my mind, my whole fucking life. You’re stuck in me and I don’t have the heart to get you out.” He shook his head, reciting it all like it was nothing, but you felt all of it. 

His notes making you dizzy. His words scrambling your mind like never before. 

“She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever. That one is uh—in a song, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing with how passionate he was getting, and you held your breath, it’s like you were staring into his soul. 

Stark naked. Laying bare, he really was doing this. And you didn’t want him to stop, even though your mouth suggested otherwise. 

“And so much more embarrassing stuff that I don’t want to include to not ruin my chances,” he muttered with a lazy smile, and you hated that you could feel it in your skin, the flutters, stomach flipping in the best possible way. 

“All fucking about you. Because it was you, from the moment we met.”

“S—stop,” your mouth betrayed you, it was the furthest thing from the truth, and you needed to hear more. You needed the reassurance, you needed him to convince you. More than anything in the world. 

But it was all so scary, and he was so close to you that you could feel his passion integrated into your veins. 

“Why, Pinky, why should I stop? Why do we have to tip-toe around each other, huh?” He was desperate, eyes flashing with a newfound of desire for you, he wasn’t going to let it go this time.

And it scared you, him being this determined, getting so close to what you actually felt was making your skin crawl, because the way you could feel your heart thumping against your ribcage wasn’t normal. What he was making you feel wasn’t normal. “Because w—we can’t!”

“We can’t what?” He complained, a deep sigh escaping his lips. 

“W—we can’t do this, you can’t—”

He shook his head with his brows puckered. “Who are you to decide that? I want to, I so badly want to,” He spat, taking a step closer to you, face merely inches away from you. 

His gaze was dangerously inviting, those alluring amber eyes melted into yours, making your pupils dilate, breath hitching as you struggled to keep him away. “Please, Eddie, d—don’t.”

You gulped, hand raising to put a space between the two of you, but it was impossible. He was in your veins now. “Too much has happened, you with Chrissy and—” You didn’t even know what you were blabbering about, just anything to stop your feelings from getting out. 

“Chrissy was a mistake!” He retorted with a hiss. He hated that you saw Chrissy as a problem between the two of you. Yes, he fucked up, but it really was a mistake, he’d take it all back in a heartbeat if he could. 

Your gaze narrowed, that pettiness returned when you scoffed. “Which time, when you kissed her or when you brought her to brunch?”

Eddie let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head when he looked at you with a dumbfounded look. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He took a breather. “I can’t believe you’re doing that again,” he mumbled, realizing that it wasn’t going to be easy to get you out of this mindset. 

It was going to be hard, to convince you of anything, and he understood that, he had trust issues himself, but he wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

You crossed your arms against your chest, gaze avoiding him momentarily. “Doing what?” You muttered.

“You just— you get scared when things get serious, running away when it gets just even a little bit too real,” He scoffed, angling closer to you, fingers ruffling through his curls in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You call me a coward and fucking look at you!” He snapped, hands gesturingly pointing to you.

“Scrambling just at the thought of us being together.” He argued, some part of him feeling a bit insecure, that maybe you didn’t want this. But, no, he saw that glint in your eyes, he knew the little angry twitch on your lips. You felt the same. And all you needed was a little push. 

You breathed, mind scrambled and trying so hard to convince yourself to leave. “T—that’s not it, you—uh you just don’t get it!” You complained with a huff. 

Another step closer. One more step and his lips would be on yours, Eddie knew this, you knew this. His gaze momentarily drooped down to your lips, then back to your dilated pupils. 

“Then make me understand, let me help you, don’t fucking run, not this time.” It was a little jab, but something needed to get you to spill, he was playing all the right cards and you were getting overwhelmed.

“J—just stop!”

“Why? Fucking why? Tell me one good fucking reason as to why we shouldn’t try it, we never even gave it a chance!” He ranted, veins in his forehead popping with how much he was trying to keep it all together. And you weren’t even trying. 

“We wouldn’t work, okay?” 

He shook his head. “Not good enough,” He argued. 

“W—we’re on two different paths now, Eddie.” You didn’t have any good excuses, he was right. 

“Not good enough.” Once again, that same arguing tone. 

You huffed. “Too much time passed and—”

“Not fucking good enough!” He cursed, hands landing on your shoulder to keep you in place, and your cheeks flushed immediately, while still trying to deny it. You were pathetic.

“Stop being a fucking coward!” He seethed, eyes fiery and red. 

Why were you insisting on being so fucking stubborn? You were driving him crazy, yet it wasn’t going to stop him. 

Coward is what had you scrambling. Because you knew he was right. “Fuck you,” You spat, body jerking quickly to leave, feet picking up quickly as Eddie groaned loudly.

So. Fucking. Stubborn. 

He was quick on his feet, letting curses slip past his lips before he yanked you to him, earning a small gasp from your lips before you finally faced him. 

Gaze mellow, but just as fiery, your furrowed brows and dilated pupils only encouraging him more and more. Flutters in your stomach had never left, your skin was burning, everywhere, but specifically on the hold he had on you. 

You didn’t manage to utter anything else, you couldn’t because he had you this time. There was no running away from it, your heart was hammering so hard inside of your chest that you were sure he could hear it. 

His hold on your arm was firm but somehow gentle, letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you go.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but he interrupted, his hands now firmly cupping your cheeks, squishing you with force, and you couldn’t help the contended sigh that left your parted lips. “I’m not letting you run away, not this time,” He mumbled, words sounding like silk falling from his lips, all you could do was gaze into him. He stood inches away from you, breath fanning against your face.

He licked his lips desperately, gaze drooping to your candy-glossed, needy lips. Face so close that you could feel the desperation radiating off of him. And you shared it. You managed to take a quick breath before his hand fisted your hair and his mouth crashed down to yours.

He pressed you harder against his chest, breathless, your lips molded together, a perfect fit. And he could taste the Cosmopolitan on your tongue, a tinge of alcohol mixed with your sweetness, making his head spin, a taste he realized he’d never have enough of. 

Those little thumps your heart did were now out of control, possibly pounding a million beats a second. His small stubble scratched against your chin, rough, it should’ve made you uncomfortable yet all it did was make you kiss him harder, shutting up your brain as your mouth replied to him, kissing him back with just as much force, you melted into him, melted into his hold, and you let him engulf you, fully, completely. 

Plushy lips slightly parted apart, his tongue slipped past between your teeth, your hand finding its way to his hair, feeling the curly strands between your fingers, it’s softer than you expected and your lips parted to let out a slight whine as you tugged at them.

All those years of wishing, all those years of wanting, yearning, and needing exploded into this. Kissing like your lives depended on it, chests pressed against each other, Eddie’s hand slipping to your waist, desperately tugging you closer to him as if that was even possible. 

Your heart exploded into your chest, his tongue not wavering the chance to explore yours, sucking on it, greedily, desperately. 

The background noises disappeared, the cackles of the girls, the booming music coming from inside of the bar, and the honks from the busy street. They ceased to exist and it was just you and him. Feeling each other, completely, fully. 

You knew at some point one of you had to pull away, but none of you dared to, it was just pure desire, a hunger that couldn’t be sated. 

All the years spent yearning and pining, acting like two fucking idiots. 

He wanted to breathe you, drink you in, and he wasn’t intent on letting you go. Ever.

You from five minutes ago who wanted to refuse him, refuse this was an absolute fucking idiot. Gone. You tasted like the sweetest honey and he tasted like everything you wanted and more. It’s even needier than the first kiss, more sure, it’s like a promise. 

This is it. Both of you can feel it. This finally changes everything. 

final authors note — uhhhh so yeah... if yall wanna talk about that my asks r open LMAO.

[holyadoptionpapersbatman]

Wendolyn "Wendy" Jane

Here's a fic idea that I'll never be able to flesh out because I'm super burned out, but here's my take on a TimKon Clonebaby AU!!

***

So, when Tim was kicked out of the window, he didn't bother to call Kon because he thought the whole encounter he had with him was a hallucination. But, he's calm. And an extra thought he had as he fell was that his and Kon's clone-baby is secured with Martha Kent.

"I can't wait to meet you, Wendy," he says as he falls.

No one catches Tim.

Dick was too late.

Another family member he wasn't fast enough to catch.

***

Kon, Bart, Cassie and the rest of YJ had been devastated when they heard the news. Tim's body was going to be cremated, so chances of him being brought back to life by enemies would be nonexistent.

To comfort himself, Kon walks into the room Wendy had been lightly snoring in.

When Kon came back with Bart, he was surprised to see this baby in Ma's arms, wondering if he actually landed himself in an alternate dimension. But when Ma explained the circumstances of her birth, that Tim tried creating clones of him and Bart to bring them back into his life, Kon gently took the baby into his arms and wept. Then, he went to find Tim.

He didn't think Tim was crazy, but the whole time he was with him, Tim was definitely not in his right mind.

Now, Wendy won't know who her other dad was. Because Tim's gone.

But not completely gone.

Unlike Kon and Bart who left only memories of themselves, Tim left this child. She's not Tim, but she's made with all of his desperation and love.

Kon, after a few hours of mourning, vows to take care of her the best he could.

***

"Pa, why I haf two fiwst names?" Wendy asks one night as she's tucked into bed, after her first day of school. "An' why's my nickname Wendy?"

Kon chuckled. "Your nickname is Wendy because it's the name of my favorite character from my and your daddy's favorite show," he explained, also tucking in her favorite stuffed animal since she was a baby - a chubby, red duck called Mr. Duck. She immediately hugs it close to her and snuggles into its head. Mr. Duck gave out a hearty 'QUACK!' that sounds a lot like Tim's voice.

Kon's heart doesn't ache anymore. Just bursts with love.

Then, picking up the book, 'How to be a Pirate', Kon opens it and flips it to the bookmarked page, a new chapter of when Hiccup and the rest of the Hooligan boys discovers a coffin. This is the 19th time they're reading this book. And it will take 20 more times until they move on to the next book of the How to Train Your Dragon series.

"Your name 'Jane' is from your daddy's mom's name. Her name was 'Janet', and your dad was downright a mama's boy," he continued, causing Wendy to giggle.

"An' Daddy's name's Tim, wight?" she asked.

"Timothy, actually," said Kon. "Timothy Jackson Drake. He has a long name like you. But he likes being called Tim. Just Tim. Not Timmy. Not TJ. And definitely not Timberlina."

Wendy cackles loudly, kicking her legs up and repeating with her lisps Tim's funny 'Timberlina' nickname over and over.

Then, once she's done laughing, Kon starts reading.

The chapter isn't even over and his little girl, his and Tim's little girl, is already asleep.

***

There was a skateboard in the attic. It was right beside this box full of envelopes and journals handwritten by her late Dad, and it had some kind of engine at its base. It also had a whole bunch of scratches on its underside.

It's also one of the most beautiful things 12 years old Wendy had ever seen.

"Pa!" she shouts, running down the stairs to the kitchen, finding Aunt Pru and Aunt Cassie burning down her Pa's stove, like usual. She turns to her Pa who had his head in his hands, most likely trying to calculate how much he needs to buy himself a new stove. "Pa, can we buy me a skateboard?"

Aunt Pru smirks. "Tryin' ta' get cool with the boys, are we?"

Wendy rolls her eyes. Her? Getting cool with the boys? Not a chance. She couldn't fit in with anyone if she tried.

She's heard stories of her dad being able to become friends with anyone, from jocks to nerds. He wasn't popular, but people of all kinds just seem to be able to hang out with him with no trouble.

Not to mention, both of her dads looked unfairly handsome in their teens. It really wasn't fair when the beauty gene doesn't get passed down or genetically inputted into her. Ugh.

But, scratch that!

"Pa! Can we?? Buy a skateboard?"

Pa glanced to his stove. Then to Wendy.

It really wasn't a choice to begin with.

"Sure, I also know someone who could teach you," he said.

***

"YOU ACCIDENTALLY SENT MY DAUGHTER BACK TO THE PAST?!"

Bart rolled his eyes. "It wasn't an accident. She was meant to go for a little time-travel adventure!"

"Of course you'd know that," muttered Kon.

Away from them, Lizzie laughed. "I remember my time-travel adventure!" she said, ignoring Jon's deadpan stare towards her and Damian's completely subtle wince. "I got an A+ on my essay!!"

Kon ignored Lizzie and started pacing the floor. "Our timeline could be changing and we wouldn't even know it!"

"Thank you!" Jon said, throwing his hands up finally feeling validated.

Damian rolled his eyes. "We're fine, aren't we? The universe isn't getting destroyed or fading from existence. Additionally, Allan did mention she was meant to travel back in time."

Bart wiped a fake tear away from his eye. "Thanks, Dames."

Damian scoffed.

On Wendy's side, she was standing right in front of an abandoned warehouse in Paris. Or, to be more specific, an abandoned Lex Corp Cloning Facility.

She clutched the letter in her hand and stepped inside.

'I guess I'm illegally a Parisian,' thought Wendy as she walked through the creepy halls, further down into where the cloning tech could be.

Then, finally, she reached it, the big, green 'ATTEMPT 100 SUCCESS' glaring back at her.

Looking before the railings, she finds a familiar figure. One she's only seen in pictures. But, instead of the strong, smart and confident hero, she sees the most broken and saddest teenager in existence.

"Dad..." she calls, heartbroken.

Her dad's head snap's up, but he slowly stands protectively, clutching the bundle in his arms closer to his chest.

He takes one look at Wendy, and--

He...

He relaxes. He relaxes his hold. His stance. His everything.

He goes up to Wendy, a hand reaching out to gently caress her face.

"You have my mom's eyes," he said.

Wendy smiled back at him. "Yeah," she says, her voice almost a whisper.

"You have Kon's stupid smile, too."

Wendy rolls her eyes. "Pa keeps telling me it's your stupid smile, Dad."

Her Dad laughs. He's almost in disbelief. But.

"How are you here?" he asked.

Wendy opened her mouth, then carefully chose her words. "You left a letter for me. For my sixteenth birthday. I'm not going to get into detail what you wrote in it but, you said it was okay to tell you that you encouraged me to head to the past and--- here I am."

Her dad's brows scrunched together, the same way she saw in stolen pics how her own brows does.

"And you're okay to be in the same... vicinity as... your past self?" he asked.

Wendy nodded her head. "Uncle Damian told me so!"

Her dad laughed, bewildered. "Uncle Damian!?"

Wendy nodded. "He's an ass, but his heart is made of gold." She reached a hand out for her Dad to take. "I have so much family growing up, Dad. I... I have so much to tell you."

Nobody told Wendy how her Dad died. Or when he died. Just that he did.

So, lets her Dad take her to this apartment he rented. It was barely touched, there wasn't even the mess he was known for making. She guesses the mess was down at the clone labs.

But, once the both of them settled down, her dad changed into more comfortable clothing. And. It was almost like looking at a mirror.

Wendy's heart burst with emotion.

From there, they both exchanged stories of their lives until it turned morning.

She watched as how tenderly her Dad held her baby-self with the same love her Pa gave her. She longed for it. But. She couldn't stay any longer. She felt the timer Uncle Bart gave her vibrate in her pocket.

"I have to go back," she said.

Her dad nodded, gently laying her baby self in the middle of the bed. Then, he turned to her with his arms open wide.

Wendy took it. She hugged him back just as tightly.

Then, after a heartfelt goodbye, she left the apartment.

And then, she disappeared home.

[fakesaintess]

His Body Is My Coffin

Summary: "Are you alright? That looked like a pretty bad fall." The voice says, now closer to Epel than ever. "Here, I'll help you up." Epel can hear the sound of someone kneeling. "Take my hand."

Epel looks up from the floor to take the hand offered. He refrains from shouting in shock when he sees the hand that has been extended towards him. It's entirely skeletal. "Ace! If this is yer idea of a joke you've gone too far!" Epel's voice echoes off the tattered walls.

Warnings: Brief Descriptions of Violence

Chapter 1

"You know," Ace slings an arm around Yuu's shoulder, "I'm really surprised you're fine living here."

"Why? It's shabby but it's not unlivable." Yuu says.

"Not because it's shabby. It is shabby, don't get me wrong, this place is a shack, but because of what happened here." Ace replies, scooting closer to Yuu.

"What do you mean?" Yuu asks. Crowley had offered this place as the only place for Yuu to stay so they never really dug into its history.

"You actually don't know?" Jack joins in the conversation. "You weren't ever told?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"I didn't hear nothin' either." Epel says.

"Jack, dim the lights, I'll tell them. I'm a great story teller." Ace turns his phone flashlight on as Jack dims the lights. Using the flashlight to illuminate his face Ace starts the story, "So, like forever ago this dorm was actually used. It was the place to be but getting in was real hard. They kept it for the star students. You know, top performers in class, star athletes, people like that would get the reward of not having to stay in their normal dorms and getting treated like the elite. There was this one guy, some track star of the pretty boy type. Super popular with other guys."

Ace looks at the people around him, adjusting his storytelling in order to keep everyone on the edge of their seats. "He'd get confessions often but always turned them down. So, one guy he turned down ended up getting super obsessed with him. No matter how many times he turned that guy down he'd always be there the next day, you know, a regular ole stalker type. One day that person didn't appear so everyone was like, 'Great! He finally gave up.' But the day after that the trackstar guy never came to breakfast. So his friends went to check on him."

Ace lowers his voice, adding flare to the finale. "He'd been murdered. The stalker had crept into his room while he was sleeping and stabbed him to death then offed themself curled up against his corpse. Had the idea in his head of, 'If I can't have him, no one can.' and that the two would be together in the afterlife if they died right next to him. The people who found the body described the scene as brutal, the trackstar had been stabbed so many times that his ribcage was so visible you could see to his muscles in his back. Despite trying to clean the room up the school couldn't manage to get the smell of death out so they just sealed it shut."

Ace lowers the light on his phone, making himself barely visible. "After the dorm was sealed people started saying they heard someone in his old room, scratching at the door and trying to open it. It all lead up to one night when some kid was walking around and they heard whispering so they pressed their ear against a wall to try and hear it better. A hand shot broke through the door and tried to drag the kid inside. Other students heard the kid screaming and managed to get him to safety. When he was pulled away through the hole in the wall people said they could see the animated corpse of the murdered student looking at them through it. Whole dorm was shut down, the door got covered up like it was never there, and everyone in it was returned to the dorms they shoulda have had to stay at. Sometimes when students come here in the middle of the night they say they can hear that guy beckoning them to come over to him."

"That's.." Yuu begins saying before Grim jumps in, "The dumbest thing I've ever heard. We woulda heard that guy by now if he was here. Sides, there's already a buncha ghosts here, people were probably just hearing them."

"Wouldn't the school have shut down if someone got killed here?" Epel asks. "Sounds like you're just pulling our legs here."

"Okay, well, first of all, you have too much faith in this place to think it'd shut down for a murder after all that's happened here. Second of all, I'm not making it up." Ace says.

"It's a good story though. You should submit it to a creative writing magazine." Yuu pats Ace's shoulder like how someone would praise a dog.

"Even you don't believe me, after all we've been through? We've put our lives on the line. Together." Ace whines to Yuu.

"Don't try and guilt Yuu into believing your story. What really happened was a kid got injured in a career ruining way so the place was condemned." Jack explains.

"That's just a cover up. Everyone knows that." Ace says back.

"There's urban rumors like that at every school. That doesn't mean they're true." Jack says. "It's getting late. Even if it's the weekend that doesn't mean we should stay up all night."

"Fine, mom. We'll head to bed." Ace snarks, sore over his story getting critiqued.

Even with Ace's snark, everyone does go to bed, crammed together in Yuu's bed.

It's the dead of night and Epel is unable to fall back asleep after waking from a dream. Holding back a sigh he decides he should get a drink of water. Maybe that'll help him fall back to sleep. He slips out of the bed and heads down the hall.

Creeping quietly through the hall Epel hears a hushed yet alluring voice. He heads towards it like it's a siren's song, ending up in one of of the many hallways that's out of use. As he gets closer he notices where the voice is coming from. Behind a wall. "Ace, yer not gonna scare me into believin your dumb story."

"Oh! Was I scaring you?" Epel hears a voice that's clearly not Ace. "The door's stuck so I was calling out for someone to help me with it. Guess I didn't think about how creepy that could come across."

Door? The voice is coming from behind a wall, isn't it?

Epel looks closer at the wall. He can vaguely see lines in the wallpaper where it must be covering the outline of the door.

"Hello? Are you still there?" The voice says to Epel.

"Sorry, I was just looking for how the door opens. It's hard to make out. Do ya know if it's an in or out going door?" Epel says, focusing back on the alluring voice and the person attached to it.

"It opens inwards. It should open if you give it a hard shove. I think it's stuck." The voice answers Epel.

It's better to try and help whatever unfortunate guy is in there than leaving them to rot. "Kay. Stand back, I'm going to try an' get you out." Epel hears footsteps moving away from the door. He moves back a couple steps to get a running start and then rams his shoulder into what he hopes is the center of the door which is surprisingly breakable. There's the sound of wall paper tearing as the door is pushed open. Epel falls to the remarkably dusty floor as the door swings into the room.

"Are you alright? That looked like a pretty bad fall." The voice says, now closer to Epel than ever. "Here, I'll help you up." Epel can hear the sound of someone kneeling. "Take my hand."

Epel looks up from the floor to take the hand offered. He refrains from shouting in shock when he sees the hand that has been extended towards him. It's entirely skeletal. "Ace! If this is yer idea of a joke you've gone too far!" Epel's voice echoes off the tattered walls.

"Who's Ace?" The voice gets closer as the person leans in towards Epel. "Are you alright?"

Epel forces himself into sitting position, shuffling backwards away from the person he had just freed. Epel can now see them in full view. A boy about Epel's age with black hair and eyes glistening like jewels, looking at him with concern. Epel tries to answer but only manages a noise.

"Was the fall that hard?" The boy says.

Of course, it wasn't the fall that has Epel alarmed. It's the fact the boy is clearly dead. Not only is his hand skeletal but his entire forearm is. Worse than a skeletal arm is the boy's torso as the flesh covering the area around his heart had been stripped away, leaving the battered heart inside visible between the gaps of his ribs. His skin is a pale blue with dark circles under his eyes. Epel is sure this boy is the corpse from the story Ace had told.

Epel takes a shallow breath, trying not to panic at the sight. He's going to be brave, he's going to be tough as hell. He's going to be a real man's man.

In his silence the boy has grabbed onto him, trying to hoist Epel to his feet. The feeling of his hand grasping Epel sends shivers down his spine and he tenses up.

Once again the boy asks, "Are you alright?"

"What are you?" Epel manages to say. He's both afraid and a bit peeved Ace was telling the truth.

"I'm Deuce Spade, a student here." He responds.

"No, you're not." Epel thinks.

"What were you doing here?" Epel asks. If there's an explanation to what's happening he'd like to know. He'd like to know now.

"This is my room. Guess I got locked in as a practical joke. Same reason my stuff is gone. No one came to get me out so I figured I should try getting someone's attention. Hasn't been working too well." Deuce explains the scenario that makes most sense to him, although it is entirely incorrect. "You're the first person to stop. So thanks for that." Deuce smiles wide.

"You don't need to thank me." Epel says, nudging Deuce's hand to get it off of him.

"I thought I'd be stuck here forever! Can I have your name?" Deuce asks. It's natural to want to know the name of your savior.

Epel has heard before that you're never supposed to give fae your name, but does this boy really count as fae? Is he some sort of monster? What were the rules surrounding re-animated humans?

"Epel. I'm Epel Felmier." Epel takes the risk of answering. Pleasing Deuce may help his survival chance if this boy is anything like zombies in movies.

"Epel…Epel." Deuce says like he's tasting the name on his tongue. "Are you new here? I haven't seen your face before."

"Sort of." That's not a complete lie. Epel has been here before. Just not when Deuce was alive.

"Would you like a tour? I can show you around." Deuce takes Epel's hands in his.

Epel's sure that Deuce leaving this room would be an awful idea. There's been strange happenings at NRC before but none as strange as finding someone who was murdered walking around campus. Deuce will probably end up leaving the room whether or not Epel agrees though and Epel can't seal the door shut on him. This leaves Epel with slim options on what to do.

"It's night right now so I really shouldn't go out." Epel tells Deuce. This excuse may bring him enough time to seal the door in the morning.

"Oh! That is too late to go out. I usually have track practice before school." Deuce looks around at the barren room. "Guess I'll be sleeping on the floor."

Epel figured there'd be no bed as that's where Deuce was killed, but he still would've liked if there was one since Deuce would probably stay asleep longer if he is comfortable.

"I'll see you in the morning." Epel begins backing towards the door.

"I'll see you in the lounge!" Deuce says before Epel is out of the room and closes the door.

He hurries back to where everyone is sleeping and climbs in bed. Safety in numbers is what they all say. Epel doesn't expect to get any sleep after what he just witnessed but eventually his tiredness takes over, letting him fall into a deep sleep.

Yuu shakes him awake in the morning. "We're going to have breakfast. Grim wants to get there before they run out of good stuff."

Epel yawns and rubs at his eyes. He vaguely remembers seeing something strange. Maybe it was only a dream. He'd like if it was just a strange dream.

"C'mon and get up. Ya snooze ya lose." Grim says before running out of the dorm in a hurry.

Epel gets up and starts stretching only to be startled by a loud scream.

"Grim!" Yuu says, running out of the room and towards the lounge.

"Did he get scared by the ghosts again? Aren't they on good terms with you two now?" Ace follows Yuu's tracks albeit slower, Epel and Jack then following him like a row of ducks.

They catch up to where Yuu is standing, frozen in fear.

"Did someone break in?" Jack asks, putting a hand on Yuu's shoulder in case he needs to get them out of danger.

"No! Can't ya see whatever that is?" Grim attempts to point his paw at something sitting on the couch.

Turning to where Grim is pointing, Epel remembers the startling experience of last night. It wasn't a dream like Epel had hoped. Deuce Spade is apparently an earlier riser as he's there on the couch likely waiting for Epel to give that tour. Just like they're all looking at him he's looking back at them.

"Good morning!" He says, rising from the couch and heading towards the group who shuffle backwards with each step Deuce takes.

"It talks?" Ace says in a low whisper.

Even though Ace spoke quietly Deuce must've heard him. "Why wouldn't I? Did we start some sort of quiet hour?" He extends his hand out in invitation, still as unnerving as last night. "Epel, would you like to go on that tour now? Your friends can come too."

"It knows you." Ace whispers even quieter this time.

Epel nods. He isn't quite sure how to explain everything or what details he should or shouldn't include. He can really only come up with an explanation of, "Found it like a dog finds a bone," which he can't use.

Yuu strolls past the group and heads to Deuce as Ace repeatedly whispers, "Don't, don't do it." Going against Ace's will, Yuu walks right up to Deuce and puts their hand out as if they're going to take Deuce's hand. Instead they reach past his hand placing their own on his exposed ribs.

"Is this some sort of costume?" They ask, running their hands against his ribs.

"No, why do you ask? Is it halloween already?" Deuce answers their question with more questions.

Huddled back where they were earlier the rest of them are unsure what to do upon seeing the undead in a form other than a ghost.

"Are those his ribs?" Ace mutters then nearly gasping, "Is that the kid who died here?"

"What do you mean by that, you said he was here!" Epel says.

"I made the part about him haunting this place up. It was just for the story. I lied." Ace continues to whisper but at a much quicker pace. "If he was here all time wouldn't've the ghosts have told us?"

That is true. Why wouldn't they inform Yuu if there was another person here? Was the locked room too secret? Epel doubts it could be that.

"Finding out where who he is isn't the leading issue right now." Jack gestures to Yuu leading Deuce outside.

"Henchman! Wait up!" Grim skitters towards Yuu as fast he can manage. Taking a clue from him the rest of them run after them.

Luckily when they rush outside Yuu hasn't gone far, only standing on the front lawn. They hadn't brought Deuce out into the world.

"Wow. This place looks way worse on the outside. What happened here? This used to be the best dorm on campus." Deuce is staring at the outside Ramshackle with a troubled look on his face. He is kind enough to not directly insult Yuu's living place.

Ace runs down the stairs and towards Yuu, grabbing them and pulling them a few inches away from Deuce. "What do you mean what happened? Look at yourself."

Deuce obliges. "My uniform is pretty dirty. I should ask housewarden for a new one. Let's go to them first." Upon closer inspection, Deuce is wearing a Heartslabyul uniform, although an outdated one.

"Are you some sort of moron? I'm talking about how you look like some sort of movie monster." Ace doesn't know how this guy couldn't realize what had happened to him. It should be pretty obvious when your ribs could be used a xylophone.

"My uniform's not that dirty. Just in slightly rough shape. And I said I'd get a new one." Deuce defends what he's wearing. Sure, it's not in the best condition being ripped and torn in the parts where stripped bones show, but it's still wearable. It's at least better than not wearing any clothes.

"It'll take more than a uniform change before we'll let ya out of this place." Grim stands by Yuu's feet, bristling his fur in an attempt to scare Deuce off.

"Nice cat. I didn't know the dorm allowed pets or I would've brought my own. Maybe I can get my mom to bring my cat. I should call her up. Is there a payphone around here?" Deuce asks, showing how dated he is.

"It's like you're from dinosaur times. You can't be anyone but that track kid." Ace comments. "Of all the lies to come true it had to this one."

Jack appears behind him, leaning in so he can observe Deuce's scent is better. "He smells human."

"I am in track and I am human. Tell 'em I'm human, Epel." Deuce says to the only person who isn't near him.

"How do you know Epel?" Jack asks.

"Epel got me out of the room I was stuck in." Deuce smiles, acting like he's delivering good news.

"Dude." Ace says, looking right at Epel.

"I didn't know he was inside! I just heard a voice asking to be let out!" Epel replies to Ace.

"You didn't wonder how someone got stuck in Ramshackle without any of us noticing?" Ace quirks an eyebrow.

"His voice sounded real nice." Epel tries to defend himself, although aware it won't work.

"Thank you." Deuce says, "Usually people compliment my physique."

Deuce does look like he'd be beautiful if not for the horror factor he has going on. Fallen beauties aren't too uncommon in the undead genre, but that label didn't fit him exactly. A better fitting title is oblivious fool considering how he's reacting to things.

"Listen. We can't keep you here. Find somewhere else to hide." Ace believes Yuu already has enough troubles and he's not ready to let Yuu have to defend why they're keeping whatever Deuce is in their dorm.

Deuce looks at Ace as if he'd just been told to leave school before relaxing. "Guess I'll go back to Heartslabyul." He says with a shrug, viewing himself as still too important to be sent away from school.

Ace has made the situation worse and most importantly, worse for himself. Exposing him to more people would only cause a commotion which he'd be one of the people called to fix like he usually is.

"Actually, before I go. What time is it? Should we be at class?" Deuce asks. "I need to boost my grades or I'll get in trouble."

"I think you've got bigger problems than that." Epel speaks up, having finally joined the rest of the group.

"Like what?" Deuce asks him.

"I don't think you can go to class but we can take you to the headmaster." Yuu says.

"What are you trying to do?" Ace whispers in Yuu's ear.

"I think the headmaster will be able to handle the situation better than we can." Yuu knows that probably isn't true but maybe Crowley would at least know of somewhere to send him. "Before we go, what's your name?" Yuu is attempting to familiarize themself with Deuce.

"Deuce Spade, nice to meet you, um." Deuce offers his hand for a handshake expecting Yuu to both take his hand and tell him their name.

"Yuu. Those two are Ace and Jack and the little guy is Grim. And you already know Epel." Yuu does take Deuce's hand as carefully as they can. He squeezes their hand in greeting, bone chilling in multiple ways.

"I ain't little!" Grim says.

"Him knowing my name better not put me under some fairy curse." Ace has the same concern Epel had last night.

Deuce must think that's a joke as he laughs in response. "We should get there before class or we'll be late." He looks over at Epel. "We'll reschedule that tour for later, okay?"

Deuce is set on giving that tour. Epel feels a bit bad. Deuce is trying to be friendly but that's not really something he can do if he shouldn't be out in public, let alone alive.

"That's fine." Epel agrees. He's sure Crowley will get rid of Deuce so Epel should at least leave him with some good memories.

Deuce starts to walk towards the school building, leading the way for the rest of the group to follow. Ace stands close to Yuu as they walk so he can whisper his question. "How do you expect our corpse bride to get into the building unnoticed?"

"I don't think he's a corpse bride. He hasn't asked anyone to marry him and we didn't bring him to life with a ring." Yuu answers the second question before the first. "Not many people in this school would show up early, even if they had something to do."

Ace can't argue with that point. But he'd really like to. "If someone spots him we're ditching him. We're ditching him and running."

While those two talk Jack goes to quiz Deuce on some things. "So, you're on the track team?" He phrases that like a question.

"Sure am. I'm the best one on the team." Deuce answers proudly.

"Do you think you can still run?" Jack can already outrun everyone else on the team. He needs a new challenge in order to better his skills. Deuce may be that challenge. If he can even run the way he is now.

"Course. I was going to go train this morning but that fell through for reasons you can see. If you want we can run together after school." Deuce says.

If Deuce is still around after school this would be a good opportunity. He doesn't believe Crowley will do anything about this situation except for pushing the responsibility onto someone else. "That's not a bad idea." He says. He's seen a lot of worse ideas than running with a somewhat dead kid. By comparison this isn't a terrible idea.

"Nice, I'm looking forward to it." Deuce replies as he enters the school.

He pauses a few feet inside and looks around. "Did this place get refurnished recently?" He asks.

"No, not recently. Like forever ago." Ace says to him.

"Really? I don't remember it looking like this." Deuce continues looking around. "Is the headmaster's office in the same place?"

"None of us would know what it looked like in your time. Now, c'mon, we gotta move." Ace walks past Deuce.

"Has this place really not been refurnished?" Deuce asks Yuu specifically this time.

"I'm not from the area so I wouldn't know. Sorry." Yuu doesn't think Deuce is ready for the another world conversation yet if he still won't acknowledge he's been dead for a while.

"Oh? I can take you to some hotspots if you'd like." Deuce offers. He's been offering a lot of things in the short time he's been around.

Yuu nods. "Places he used to go to are probably long gone." Yuu thinks, thankfully unaware of the actual life Deuce used to live.

Yuu knocks at the office door once and then opens it before being told they're allowed in. Crowley looks at Yuu with mock surprise. "What brings you to my office so early?" He may have asked that question but he really isn't too concerned.

"Are ya blind? Have you seen that guy behind us?" Grim says.

Crowley hadn't been looking too hard at the group. At Grim's prompting he looks past Yuu at the rest of the group, locking eyes with Deuce who waves.

"Heya Headmaster." He says.

"Oh my." Crowley gets up from his desk and heads over to Deuce, walking around him to observe him. "Marvelous! What a unique specimen. Did you all make him?"

"My mom made me." Deuce corrects him.

"Yeah, we whipped up a zombie in our weekly arts and crafts session. You would not believe how much glitter glue it took." Ace says sarcastically.

"Epel found him in a room in Ramshackle." Jack tells the truth on the situation.

Epel opens his mouth to to explain himself but, unfortunately, Deuce gives his opinion first. "Isn't that great? He deserves some sort of reward for helping me." People at this school really have an interrupting problem.

"Hm. I don't think we can budget in rewards for scientific discoveries." Crowley says, taking Deuce's arm and examining it. "Say, how would you feel about becoming a student here?"

"Just allowing anyone in here now." Ace mumbles before making eye contact with Yuu. "You're fine though." He adds.

"I am a student here. First year, Deuce Spade." Deuce side eyes Ace, taking offense to Ace implying he shouldn't be here. Which he shouldn't be in everyone else's eyes.

"I'm afraid you haven't been on the student register for quite a while." Crowley informs Deuce. "But I can get your name back before the end of the day. Say, Yuu, there's an extra seat in your class. Why don't you watch over him?"

"Dumping your responsibility on us again." Grim grumbles.

"What dorm would he stay in? He has magic, right? So you can't just dump him in Ramshackle with those two." Ace isn't planning to rope a corpse into their friend group. At least, not yet. He could come in handy at some point. For now, Ace will attempt to deflect the possibility of Deuce staying away.

"He's donning a Heartslabyul uniform. We'll put him back there." Crowley replies.

Things have escalated far more than Epel could've imagined when he heard that oh so sweet voice last night. Granted, it's escalated in the least deadly way unleashing a zombie could escalate, but it's not something Epel ever thought would happen. He stays silent during the current discussion, getting further into this would only get him in trouble at his dorm. Especially if Deuce follows him home.

"Shouldn't you run that by the dorm leaders?" Ace asks, thinking on his feet in an attempt to stop the chance that Deuce will be assigned to his dorm. It'd be real trouble if he is.

"I suppose." Crowley says, looking like he's thinking. He barely is. "We'll call them for a meeting."

"Should we stay here to give our accounts on him?" Jack is both making a good point while monitoring the rest of the group. If he allows them all to run off the current issue will only end up spiraling out of control.

"C'mon! They can handle it theirselves!" Grim says, waggling his paws.

"Jack has made a wonderful point. Informing dorm leaders of this incredible work of magic before it debuts could help them figure out how to assimilate it to our school." Crowley says which loosely translates to, "I can dump the work this would take onto someone else."

"All of us gotta stay?" Grim asks. He'd also like someone else to do this work in his place.

"Of course! Won't it delight you to play such an important rule in this?" Crowley continues to push problems away.

"No. Not at all, actually." Ace says. He wishes that the story he made up was actually fake, instead of dragging him on a some sort of mediocre horror game plot.

Regardless of the protest, every first year is stuck waiting around for the dorm leaders to arrive.

As if he's unaware of the troubles he's caused Deuce begins chatting to Yuu without apologizing for the predicament they'd all been roped in because of him.

"I gotta ask, why was it said Ramshackle is for people with no magic? It's a dorm for the special students last I checked." Deuce questions Yuu.

They had originally planned not tell Deuce about their current scenario, but it looks like they have no way to avoid it now. They decide to water down the story to something understandable. "It was changed to be a dorm for me and Grim. We count as one student." Yuu answers.

"I've got the coolest powers in the world! And Yuu over there is my henchman. They have no magic so I gotta make up for them." Grim gloats.

Deuce nods his head, acting like he understood the replies he had received. "Your cat's kinda fucked up." He says, completely changing the topic. He didn't get what was said.

"I ain't no cat! I'm a mage!" Grim snaps at Deuce.

"You should get a different one." Deuce is stuck on his current mindset.

"Grim and I are good friends." Yuu says.

Deuce nods again. Maybe this time he knows what's going on. "So what's this about no magic?"

It's unfortunate that Deuce has pulled the topic back to Yuu's lack of magic. They were hoping the topic had been dropped and everyone moved on. "I don't have any magic. I was enrolled for something else…"

"That sounds pretty cool." Deuce seems genuine when complimenting Yuu. He does seem to be the type who wears his heart on his sleeve Yuu believes, pinning Deuce pretty wrong.

Lost on how to carry on the conversation, Yuu looks around in the hopes someone will step in. No one does.

Epel does consider doing so. Deuce has taken to him so he'd probably respond well, even if it's only because Epel let him out. He ends up not doing so. He watches a silence form between Yuu and Deuce, both staring at the other.

"So. What club are you in?" Deuce tries bringing up a new conversation starter.

"I'm not really in one." Yuu does regret not being in one as the topic leads to silence again.

"You, uh, got any hobbies?" Deuce tries another topic.

Yuu shakes their head. This is another dead end topic.

Deuce stares blankly at Yuu for a minute before turning to Epel. "Do you have any hobbies?"

Epel regrets not jumping in for Yuu earlier as now no one will jump in for him. It won't be surprising that if he lists things he does for Deuce to say it doesn't fit his image since most people do. In the short time he's stalled it gave enough time for other people to arrive.

"Mon Dieu! What a specimen!" The vice housewarden of Epel's dorm announces his presence with.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Lazarus Rising | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader ( :0 ?? )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, allusion to a sexual assault, allusion to torture, mentions of kidnapping/missing persons

Word Count: 3831

A/N: Things are gettin' crazy. As a special treat, a chapter from (mostly) Dean's perspective!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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Dean’s first thought had been of you. When he woke up in that shoddily-fashioned coffin, he’d thought of you. Before he met you, he would’ve grimaced at how “pussy-whipped” he was. And now, the thought didn’t even cross his mind. 

His mind had become overrun in his walk to the gas station down the road from where he’d crawled out of the earth with thoughts of you, Sam, Bobby, and everything he’d endured in Hell. Dean was surprised to find the station abandoned— along with everything else in the town— but that was just another thing to add to the long list of “weird” things going on. 

Trying to clear his head, he splashed some cold water on his face. When he shook his hands dry, he remembered the wounds he’d sustained from the Hellhounds’ attack. He quickly brought his shirt up to inspect his stomach but was surprised to see no gashes.

And then, he noticed what appeared to be a burn mark poking out from under his sleeve. Dean pulled it up to reveal a bright red handprint. As if the situation couldn’t get any stranger, loud static filled the room and the windows shattered inward. 

Startled and scratched by the shards of glass, Dean got up from his curled-up position on the ground. 

****

Bobby was shocked by Dean’s return, to say the least. “But... how did you bust out?”

Dean shook his head. “I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box—” 

Suddenly, Bobby splashed water in Dean’s face. The man’s eyes closed to avoid the splash, and he spit out the water that invaded his mouth. “I'm not a demon either, you know.”

Bobby shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. Can't be too careful.” He handed a towel to the younger man and headed further into his home. “But... that don't make a lick of sense.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir.”

Bobby turned back to Dean. “Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit—” 

“I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject,” Dean nodded. “What do you remember?” 

Of course, Dean lied. “Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then, I come to six feet under, and that was it. Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not—” 

Bobby understood what Dean was getting at. “Oh, he's alive. As far as I know.”

“Good— wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?” The pitch in Dean’s voice rose in concern. 

“I haven't talked to him for months,” Bobby explained. 

Dean scoffed. “You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?” He began to approach Bobby angrily. 

“He was dead set on it,” the older man argued. 

“Bobby, you should've been looking after him!”

“I tried!” Bobby responded. “For both of ‘em! These last months haven't been exactly easy, y’know. We had to bury you.” 

Dean looked at the floor. “Why did you bury me, anyway?” 

“I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But (Y/N) and Sam wouldn’t stand for it,” Bobby answered. 

“Oh, god, (Y/N),” Dean breathed out. “Is she—?”

Bobby shook his head. “Haven’t heard from her, either.”

“Jesus.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Both of ‘em just… up and left?”

The older man nodded solemnly. “Last I heard from either of ‘em, Sam said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said.” He sighed. “He was quiet. Real quiet. And then, he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found.”

“And (Y/N)?” Dean asked, anxiety clawing at his throat. 

“You weren’t in the ground ten minutes before she was gone; long before Sam. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell us where she was going. She’s gone dark, too.”

“Oh, dammit,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. 

“What?” Bobby questioned, on the edge of his seat. 

“Oh, one of ‘em got me home, alright. But whatever they did, it’s bad mojo.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Dean explained what happened to Bobby and showed him the handprint on his arm. “It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out.” 

It was the first time Dean had seen Bobby truly rattled. “But why?”

The older Winchester brother searched for the words, shrugging, “To hold up their end of the bargain.”

“You think one of ‘em made a deal,” Bobby said as more of a statement than a question. 

“It’s what I would’ve done.”

****

Dean managed to track Sam down to a motel in Pontiac. The two brothers went through the same tearful reunion Dean had with Bobby, and the woman Sam was accompanied by stood awkwardly in the corner. She soon left, seeming dejected, leaving the Winchesters alone with Bobby.

 Dean glared at his younger brother, arms crossed. “So, tell me, what'd it cost?”

Sam grinned. “The girl? I don't pay, Dean.”

Dean remained stern. “That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?”

“You think I made a deal?” Sam scoffed.

Bobby chimed in harshly, “That's exactly what we think.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Dean’s gaze hardened further. “Don't lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

The older brother advanced on Sam. “So, what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this.”

Sam stood to face his brother. “Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?”

“There’s no other way this could’ve gone down,” Dean roared, grabbing Sam’s shirt. “Now tell the truth!”

Sam broke out of Dean’s grip. “I tried everything! That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, alright? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright? Dean, I'm sorry.”

Noticing Sam was growing quite emotional, Dean finally let off. “It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.”

“Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that Sam's soul remains intact,” Bobby said, “but it does raise a sticky question.”

“If he didn't pull me out, then what did?” A horrible realization crossed Dean’s mind. “It must’ve been (Y/N). Dammit! Where is she?!” He turned and ran a hand through his hair.

Dean looked to Bobby frantically, and Bobby shook his head. “Sorry, kid. I wish I knew where to tell ya to start lookin’. Nobody’s seen her.”

“So… So she could be dead for all we know,” Dean worried. 

Sam nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

****

But you weren’t dead, you were very much alive; physically, anyway. Dean figured that out a few days later when he was watching the news. 

“Authorities are searching for this woman—” a grainy image of you looking over your shoulder wearing a wig, a hood, and jeans appeared on screen, and he supposed it’d been caught on CCTV— “whose identity is unknown, but she has been potentially connected to at least seven missing persons cases over the past four months; all of well-respected, family-oriented men across multiple state lines. She is considered to be armed and dangerous, and if you have any information, please call—”

Dean’s mind ran a mile a minute. His anxiety raced at the idea that you may be possessed or possibly even turned while he was in Hell.

“Sammy!” Dean called from Bobby’s couch.

Sam appeared moments later and looked at the television in front of his brother. “Holy crap,” he breathed out. 

“Yeah, man, this is bad,” Dean stood and ran a hand through his hair while he paced. “Whatever’s wearin’ her face is gettin’ her in a ton of trouble. We gotta—”

“Wait, Dean, slow down,” Sam said. “She has the tattoo. There’s nothing gettin’ in her.”

“Yeah, well, maybe something scratched it off,” Dean continued. “Maybe a shapeshifter got a hold of her—”

“Or maybe that’s just (Y/N),” Bobby stated, causing the two boys to turn to him. 

“What?” they asked in unison. 

“A demon wouldn’t be concerned about hiding (Y/N)’s identity, and a shifter wouldn’t keep one meat suit for that long,” Bobby continued. 

“And her eyes didn’t flash,” Sam murmured. 

A heavy silence fell over the room before Bobby gathered the courage to speak again. “Boys, I think that’s just her.”

****

In between flashes of the terror he went through in Hell and trying to help Bobby and Sam discover what had pulled him out, Dean was trying not to go insane in search of you. But he was furious with himself. He couldn’t find you anywhere. It was almost like you were actively avoiding him. 

All three men couldn’t believe what you were accused of, or that you were even capable of doing so. None of them knew you to be that way. Then again, they hadn’t truly known you in months; a lot had changed. 

Bobby stared at the news for hours looking for any new sightings of you. He put his contacts on your trail, and Sam spent his free time scrolling through Facebook pages dedicated to finding the woman responsible for potentially taking the lives of the seven men. And Dean? Dean was such a mess of anxiety and wrath that he couldn’t focus on helping to find you properly for too long.

Bobby said there was a psychic Dean should see about his resurrection. Although hesitant to do anything aside from look for you, he agreed when Bobby suggested she could help find you, too.

Sam could tell Dean was incredibly thankful to be back with his car, his brother, and their surrogate father, but there was something missing: you. Even he was puzzled as to where you could be. 

“There's still one thing that's bothering me,” Dean broke the silence as he cruised behind Bobby down a darkened road. 

“Aside from (Y/N)?” Sam tried to jest. 

Dean just glared in response. “The night that I bit it— or, got bit— how’d you two make it out? I thought Lilith was gonna kill you.” Sam nodded. “Well, she tried. She couldn't.”

That caught Dean off-guard. “What do you mean, she couldn't?”

“She fired this, like, burning light at us,” Sam explained, “I put (Y/N) behind me, and Lilith just couldn’t leave a scratch. Like we were immune or something.”

“Immune?” Dean repeated.��

“Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me,” the brunet snorted. “She left pretty fast after that.”

“Huh.” Dean considered his next words carefully. “What about Ruby, where is she?”

Of course, Sam lied. “Dead, for now.” He lied again when his older brother asked about his use of his psychic powers. Sam sat brooding for a few more minutes before he dared to break the silence again. “What are we gonna do about (Y/N), man.”

Dean sighed. 

Sam didn’t give him a chance to answer before he continued. “I mean, she definitely doesn’t wanna be found. By anybody.” “Yeah, I know that, man,” Dean replied. 

“Shouldn’t she have been in Pontiac?” Sam suggested. “I mean, even if she wasn’t hunting Lilith, any other demon would’ve led her to it.”

Dean huffed. “I don’t know, Sammy. But maybe not if she’s off ganking random dudes.”

“All I’m sayin’ is,” Sam began, slowing his mind down, “it’s weird.”

“What isn’t weird right now, Sam?” Dean snorted. “I don’t think she’s purposefully hiding from us.”

“No, no,” Sam shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. Maybe, she just… quit hunting. Maybe she’s off doin’ hits for someone, or something.”

“What, like a bounty hunter?” Dean scoffed.

Sam nodded hesitantly. 

The older brother refused to believe that. “No. That’s not her.”

“How do you even know you know her, Dean?” Sam argued. “She’s clearly not who any of us thought she was.”

“Well, whatever she’s doing, she must’ve had a good reason for it!” Dean roared, clearly not enjoying what Sam was insinuating. 

Sam shook his head. “Dean, I talked to the victims’ families. None of them were monsters. None of them were possessed. She took out regular people.”

“How do you know for sure? You seen the bodies? ‘Cause nobody else has, either,” the older brother grunted. “She’s not like that, Sam.” Sam shrank in his seat, irritated. 

“Now, drop it,” Dean grumbled. 

****

Before you, Dean would’ve gone right for Pamela. She was attractive, alluring, and had a good sense of humor with a hint of eccentrism. Now, that didn’t even cross his mind. All he wanted her for was finding out what happened to you. 

“So, you hear anything?” Bobby asked. 

“Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why,” the psychic responded. “I think we’ll do a séance next. See if we can see who did the deed.”

“Any word on (Y/N)?” Dean asked. 

Pamela seemed hesitant to respond. 

“Tell me,” Dean pleaded. 

The psychic sighed. “She knows you’re alive. Someone saw her rummaging around that town you popped up in.”

Dean was completely floored. All he could do was breathe out, “What?”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Pamela said softly.

“Anything else?” Sam prompted. 

The psychic nodded, turning her focus to him. “She’s workin’ with something. Nobody really knows what. Or, at least, they won’t say.”

“Why not?” Bobby questioned. 

“It’s like they’re scared of it,” Pamela responded. “And her.”

Dean found his words again. “Has she— Has she killed anybody?” 

“One person,” the woman answered. “But it seems she did the world a bit of a favor.”

“What makes you say that?” he continued to press. He was both relieved and confused by the fact that you hadn’t killed most of the people you were suspected of killing. 

“The guy had a bit of a track record,” Pamela replied, seeming uncomfortable. “With women, specifically.”

Dean understood at that moment. “The guard,” he said.

Sam turned to his brother. 

“From Deacon’s case. The guy that—” Dean couldn’t push the words out. 

Sam and Bobby both nodded in grave understanding. 

“What about the other seven, though?” Bobby questioned. “What’d she do with them?” 

“Again, the spirits were too scared to say,” she said, shaking her head. 

Dean’s stomach had remained upset throughout this conversation, but he knew he had to figure out what had pulled him out of Hell, too. “So, séance?” he gulped, trying to steel his courage. 

Bobby was clearly still shaken from the last bit of the conversation. “You're not gonna... summon the damn thing here.”

Pamela shook her head. “No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal.”

Dean tried his best to smirk. “I’m game.”

****

The day was by no means going as anyone had planned. Pamela had summoned the creature, and her eyes consequently were burned out of their sockets. 

Sam and Dean stopped for some lunch while Bobby went with Pamela to the hospital. She was stable and out of the intensive care unit, thankfully, but the boys felt bad for the poor woman. While Dean thought of possible places you could be or what you could be doing, Sam was busy trying to remember where he’d heard the name “Castiel” before: that was the name of the creature Pamela had given to them. 

“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon,” Dean commented, shaking his brother out of his thoughts. “What’s up?”

“I’ve heard of ‘Castiel’ before,” Sam explained. “I’m just tryin’ to figure out where.”

“Well, maybe with the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him; bring him right to us,” Dean suggested. 

Sam scoffed. “Absolutely not. Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face to face?”

“You got a better idea?” Dean argued. 

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. I followed some demons to town, right?” Sam responded. “So, we go find them. Someone's gotta know something about something.”

The waitress reappeared with the two plates of pie Dean ordered and pulled up a chair to the end of the table. 

Dean looked at her, confused. “You angling for a tip?”

The waitress smirked. “I'm sorry. Thought you were looking for us.” She blinked to reveal her inky black eyes. Several other demons revealed themselves and locked the brothers in the diner with them. 

The waitress blinked again. “Dean. To Hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck?”

Dean smirked, tight-lipped. “That’s me.”

“So you get to just stroll out of the Pit, huh? Tell me, what makes you so special?”

Ever the cocky bastard, Dean hummed, “ I like to think it's because of my perky nipples. I don't know. Wasn't my doing; I don't know who pulled me out.”

The demon scoffed. “Right. You don’t. Lying's a sin, you know.”

“I'm not lying. But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo—” Dean trailed off, having read the name off her tag. 

She snarled, “Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to Hell myself.”

Sam tried to rush her, but Dean held a hand up for him to stop. “No, you won’t,” Dean asserted. 

The waitress laughed. “No?”

“No. Because if you were, you would’ve done it already.” His eyes bore daggers into the demon. “Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose, and you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers. Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit, or, uh, Godzilla, or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out, and they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose.”

“I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs.”

Dean leaned forward, almost daring her to do so. With a wicked smirk, he tossed a mean right hook at her face. She took it— albeit, angrily— but did not retaliate. He threw a second one. WIth his voice barely above a whisper, he growled, “That's what I thought. Let's go, Sam.”

Dean dropped a ten dollar bill on the table, almost like an insult. “For the pie.”

****

Once again, the creature caused a ringing in Dean’s ears and glass to come crashing down around him. If anything, it was becoming more of an annoyance than feeling like an actual threat. Sam, however, was nowhere to be found. Although irritated with his brother for taking his car, Dean went with Bobby to summon Castiel. 

Dean wiped the blood from his face given to him by the creature. 

“How you doin', kid?” Bobby asked. 

“Well, my girlfriend’s at large, and there’s church bells ringin’ in my head. So, peachy,” Dean deadpanned. 

After a brief conversation with Sam where he told him a story that Dean wasn’t quite sure he believed, he helped Bobby set up the warehouse they’d gone to to summon Castiel. 

Every wall was covered in protection sigils and traps while Dean laid out every weapon imaginable on folding tables. 

“This is still a bad idea,” Bobby sighed. 

“Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?” Dean smirked while the older man nodded reluctantly. Bobby followed the instructions for the ritual, and all they could do after that was wait. 

Suddenly, a loud rattling shook the tin roof. Dean grabbed a knife and a shotgun while Bobby grabbed a crow bar. 

“Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind,” Dean suggested. 

The door burst open at that moment to reveal a beautiful man in a business suit and trenchcoat. 

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did his best to maintain a brave face. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

Castiel’s eyes and smile were kind, contrary to what Dean assumed he would be. “I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah. Thanks for that.” He plunged the demon knife into Castiel’s chest that had absolutely zero effect on him. 

Castiel looked down, unfazed, and removed the knife. Bobby tried to charge him but was promptly put to sleep. The older man crumpled to the floor in a heap.

“We need to talk, Dean. Alone,” Castiel stated, his voice deep and rumbling. 

Dean checked Bobby’s pulse, glaring up at Castiel. 

“Your friend is alive,” the creature insisted. 

“Who are you?”

“Castiel.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I figured that much. I mean, what are you?”

“I’m an angel of the lord,” the man replied.

Dean’s heart dropped. “Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing.”

“This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith,” Castiel responded. He caused lightning to flash and allowed his massive wings to unfurl.

Dean finally started to believe, but that only made him angrier. “Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes.”

“I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that,” Castiel explained. 

“You mean the gas station and the motel,” Dean realized. “Buddy, next time, lower the volume.”

“That was my mistake. Certain people— special people— can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong,” the angel admitted. 

“And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?”

Castiel looked down at himself. “This? This is... a vessel.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. “You're possessing some poor bastard?”

“He's a devout man; he actually prayed for this.”

“Uh-huh. Y'know, it might've been easier to show up like this the first time instead of all the burning bush crap,” Dean scoffed. 

“Finding a human vessel durable enough to contain me; it's not easy,” the angel said. 

Dean smirked. “I have that same problem with women.”

Castiel’s expression remained unchanging. “Apparently, not anymore.” The hunter’s eyebrows furrowed again. “What do you mean?”

“I know about (Y/N), Dean,” Castiel explained.

“How?”

“I know everything about you,” he responded. “And I know everything about her.”

“What makes us so special?” Dean challenged. “Why would an angel rescue me from Hell? Why would you be so concerned with (Y/N)? Do you know where she is?”

“Good things do happen, Dean,” the angel insisted. 

Dean’s gaze remained hard despite his quieting voice. “Not in my experience.”

Castiel tilted his head. “What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?”

“Why'd you do it?” Dean questioned. 

“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworldd

[diejager]

hii!! just so you understand, I have real brainrot because of your “Only Human” series! I love it madly tenderly and with all my heart😭😭 anyway, I saw that you have requests open, but feel free to ignore if this is not the case or I indicated something incorrectly. how about our favorite monsters and hybrids 141 with a new member of the team who is a witch??

also, sorry for my english, I use google translate☠️

Hey, no worries, I understood your request!

Spell Cw: witchy stuff, death, murder, drowning, blood and injury, fluff, magic, inaccurate understanding of magic, tell me if I missed any.

He always found it mesmerising, the soothing coldness of your spell working its magic on him, gleaming like water embracing his bleeding wound, the skin ripped apart at the middle and flesh throbbing painfully. It wasn’t anything new, pain wasn’t a stranger to him, rather a friend, a brother to him. Pain was a repetitive thing in his life, wound after wound bleeding him, and scar after scar painting his skin, he’d gotten so used to it that the stripes on his face were now an integral part of his identity, pushing the facade of a tiger if he didn’t have his ears and tail out.

But with you, everything had smoothed over to a soft thrum, like the warm waves cradling his shifted body, your magic, attuned to their aches through your bond and being, worked to cure everything to ensure that the pack he grew to love and care for stayed safe. Your being was like a body of water - the ocean - a beauty of nature when calm, but a terror when enraged, storms crashing against land and causing devastation in moments of fury. You were as dangerous as you could be caring and loving —just like the sea.

“Why didn’t you come see me first?” You sighed, tone laced with amused disappointment, brows tensed but your pretty lips quipped up, “I thought I put you in control of this Horangi…”

You worked your magic on König, fingers weaving invisible threads over his bleeding forearm, pulling the strings of puppet of flesh and bone, controlling the sinuous fibre of his skin to sew itself back. Horangi watched his friend’s wound steadily close up, injury shrinking with every pull of your finger until all that was left was the lingering scent of your cool magic and the metallic odour of blood.

“König is stubborn, ” Horangi chuckled, flashing you a sly smirk despite your exasperated expression, “Big too. I can’t move him.”

“And I can?” You scoffed, finishing off your skin weaving with a soft pet on his arm, letting König admire your work like a child with a new toy even though you’d gone through the same process over and over in the past, König had a habit of collecting scars as often as he toppled his enemies.

Your magic wasn’t only used in healing, you were an adaptive soul, your comfort found itself in water, and water meant life, and life meant whatever violent fury came along with quiet calmness. And in the right situation, where Laswell sent the Task Force on a boat or by the shore, you could level the oceans at your will in anger or protection. You gave men and women a watery grave on land, drowning them in their water-made coffins to stop them from reaching your wounded comrades, glaring off at anyone who tried approaching your cover .

You had Gaz, Price and him, tending to their deeper injuries and letting them use their first aid while you kept the enemy at bay, lower lip pulled between your teeth, gnawing on the skin until it bled. Separating your attention for both healing and defence/offence demanded a lot of concentration, especially when you were sewing up Price’s deep gash on his leg, listening to his hiss and groans of pain.

“Fucking-” Horangi busied himself with wrapping the bandage and gauze over Gaz’s wound, his eyes occasionally peeking at your clenched fist that pushed out your anger through the waters you controlled, “Bastards keep coming.”

You were a puppet queen and the sea your mannequin.

“Almost done, Hunter,” Gaz hissed out when Horangi pulled too tightly on his bandage, sending you a reassuring look to calm down your raised hackle, teeth bared and eyes burning the enemies alive as much as you were depriving them of air.

This was another show of your prowess, your fingers puppeteering water, commanding it and coaxing the water’s will to follow your call, heeding your every whim. It was a majestically show, as tragic as it was beautiful, much like the cleansing of the world when the oceans flooded Earth, leaving but Noah and his wife, and couple of animals to remake the land. You were remaking the land you fought on in an imagine, to make it safer and protect them —it would tire you out for the day, Horangi will ready to help you with anything wile you doze on and off.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah

[fandomtrumpshate]

Unlisted Fandoms Challenge

While we pull together the post on the various types of fan labor being offered so far, here's a quick update on the *hundreds* of write-in fandoms we've received ...

At the top of the list we have Jeff Satur holding onto the lead with 7 entries, but Zhen Hun/Guardian is right on his heels with 6. And then there's a three-way tie for third place with 5 write-ins each for BBC Ghosts, Control (Remedy Game), and Dungeon Meshi / Delicious In Dungeon. Schitt's Creek claims fourth place with 4 entries, and in fifth there's a 14-way tie:

Alien Stage Cabin Pressure Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast) Fire Emblem Awakening Fire Emblem Fates Iron Widow Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint Roswell New Mexico Stand By Me/The Body by Stephen King The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison Transformers Voltron: Legendary Defender White Collar Zhen Hun / Guardian (drama) RPF

All it would take to upset the apple cart and reset the leader board is one signup. Manage two and it's a whole new ball game. Yes, we're mixing metaphors. And we're not done yet!

Below the cut are the 133 fandoms that have so far received only ONE signup. Want to really shake things up? Get two more signups for any of these and watch them leap into the fray on the leader board ...

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) Among Us Arctic Monkeys/The Last shadow Puppets Around the World in 80 Days (TV 2021) Baseball RPF BBC’s Musketeers Bendy and the Ink Machine Beyond Evil Black Doves Boygenius (Band)(RPF) Brokeback Mountain Bullet train Canji Baojun De Zhangxin Yu Chong (The disabled tyrant's pet palm fish) Cassette Beasts Castle Challengers Charmed (1998) Danger Force (TV) Dark Deception Dark Rise Dead by Daylight Descendants Destiny 2 Dimension 20 Downton Abbey Dr. Stone Dragonball Dragonlance Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey Due South Dune (Villeneuve) Emma - Jane Austen Etta Invincible Fangs of Fortune Farscape Fields of Mistria Finder no Hyouteki / Finder Series Flight Rising Formula 2/3 RPF Frieren Fruits Basket Gangsta (Anime & Manga) Giselle Grantchester (TV) Grimm Hatoful Boyfriend Haven (TV) Helluva Boss Henry Danger (TV) High School Musical (Movies) Hikaru no Go HLVRAI - Half-life VR But the AI is Self-Aware House MD In Other Lands In Stars And Time IndyCar RPF It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Jeeves and Wooster Jet Lag The Game RPF Jurassic Park (Extended Universe) Kamen Rider Gotchard Kane and Feels Kraven the Hunter Kuroko no Basuke / Kuroko's Basketball Law & Order Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Lays of the Hearth-Fire Series - Victoria Goddard Lies of P Live A Live Lord Seventh/Qi Ye Mass Effect 1, 2 or 3 Mononoke (2007 series and 2024 movie) MotoGP RPF My Time at Sandrock Mystic Messenger NBA RPF Nerdy Prudes Must Die Norah Grant Bruce's Billabong books Oh No! Here Comes Trouble Once Upon A Time Order of the Stick Outlast games Over the Garden Wall Pacific Rim Pathologic Peaky Blinders Persuasion - Jane Austen Phandom Pirates of the Caribbean Power Rangers (2017 movie) Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen Prodigal Son Puella Magi Madoka Magica Quantum Break Ranma 1/2 Resident Alien Resident Evil Rise of the Guardians S.C.I Mystery S.W.A.T. (2017 show) Saint Seiya Saw franchise Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated (2010) She-Ra Netflix Shipwrecked Comedy Sonic the Hedgehog (Games) South Park Spinning Silver (Novik) Spirited Squid Game Starkid Musicals (no hp) Stephen King's It Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical Super Sentai That 70s Show The A Team (either the 2010 movie or the 1980s series) The Coffin of Andy and Leyley The OC The Pairing - Casey McQuiston The Paradise of Thorns The Radiant Emperor The Silt Verses The Umbrella Academy the vampire diaries universe The Venture Maidens The Walking Dead The West Wing Thousand Autumns Tokusatsu Tron Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles Turning Universal Century Gundam video games by Arkane Studios Wander Over Yonder Warriors / Warrior Cats Watcher Entertainment/BuzzFeed Unsolved RPF Wind Breaker Wonka Word of Honor Yellowjackets Young Wizards (Diane Duane) บ้านหลอน ON SALE / Peaceful Property (TV)

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 8 of my Halloween mini series!

Dark! Frank Castle, Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest! Matt Murdock.

Warnings: Blasphemy, death, guilt, corruption, threesome, oral (f/m) smut.

A/N: It's only gonna get worse

Father Heath is found dead the next morning.

His body, in such a state of decomposition that the doctor had dissuaded you from viewing it.

You were glad for it, you didn’t think you could look upon another dead body, ever since you’d been forced to assist with the ones that perished in the mysterious plague, the very idea of a corpse made you ill.

Father Russo is kind enough to visit you, in your office after the body has been found. His arms are tight around your body, quiet whispers, promises, that everything would be well.

You’re distressed, crying into his shoulder, he looks pained to see you this way, but all you feel is the helplessness you experienced not too long ago.

It had apparently been an accident, in the pouring rain, Father Heath had slipped, and fell head first from one of the outlying granges, used to keep some of the grains safe and dry in the wet season.

It comforts you, that his death was most likely quick. Billy reassures you that he most likely felt absolutely no pain in his last moments.

You hold Vigil that evening in the church. It’s the first time in a while that the rain doesn’t fall, and in the morning, funeral mass is held.

You sit among your sisters, listening to them sniffle, watching as Matt delivers the final sermon.

His voice is calm, soothing, you close your eyes and simply listen to him. It helps a lot, and when he’s done, you follow behind as they take the coffin to its final resting place in the cemetery.

You sit in the bathing pool for hours after, examining the sprigs of floating lavender that pass you by, thinking about the inevitability of death, and the ways that your actions hold the shape of your afterlife.

.

.

.

“Bless me Father, for my sins.” You murmur, lifting your rosary, to kiss the crucifix.

“Speak your burdens, and they shall be heard.” A familiar voice responds, differently cadenced than Matt’s.

“It has been one week since my last confession, and though I have atoned for my sins, I still feel the weight of them.”

“It is normal to feel this way. Tell me what troubles you.”

Billy.

You swallow.

“I have allowed myself to sin carnally, and…I find that my body yearns for it.”

He makes a low hum of contemplation from the other side of the wall. You grip your skirts, trying to ignore the way he makes you feel.

“What do you yearn for?” He asks.

“Touch, Father, I yearn to be touched.”

You hear rustling from the other side of the wall.

“By yourself?”

“N-no- by… others.”

“Speak their names, give them power.”

You feel your heart kick in surprise at his debauched words.

“Father Murdock, Father Russo…” You swallow, “Mister Castle.”

“And what would you have them do to you?” Father Russo asks next.

“Is… discussing this appropriate?”

“Of course… How can I help you if I do not know the extent of your fantasies?”

You pause for a second, deep in thought.

“Their hands, their mouths, I can’t stop thinking about how they would feel on my skin, pressed against my body.”

“Good. Tell me where.”

“Where?” You stutter out.

“Don’t be shy, tell me what you think about.”

There are so many things, you don’t know where to begin.

“I want to kiss them, feel their lips on mine, move between them. I want bruising, punishing kisses, and soft, sweet kisses and hungry, devouring ones too.”

“All of them? At once?”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yes,” You almost moan, pulling your skirts up, desperate to relieve some of the ache in your body brought upon by speaking about this topic.

“I want them to lie with me, take care of me, touch each part of me.”

On the other side of the wooden wall, you hear a slow groan.

Did he like your words too? Did he agree with them? Did he want to see your fantasies fulfilled?

“I need you to touch yourself now,” Billy utters on a pained breath, “Reach down, and ease that feeling inside of you.”

You don’t need any more persuasion, reaching down, cupping your heated flesh, fingers delving right to your sticky center.

You let out a soft gasp, your head thuds against the wood as it falls back.

“That’s it, just like that.” Billy guides.

You bite down on your bottom lip, sighing, thinking about the things you might let them do if they pleased, anything to feel that release.

“Father Russo.” You gasp out, shaking your head, needing more than your fingers could give.

He groans.

You hear the distinct sound of hinges squeaking as a door opens, and then movement, before a little knock on your side of the confessional.

Your lips part in surprise, you right yourself hastily, leaning forward, you unlatch the door to find Billy looking down at you with hungry eyes.

He steps in, closing the door behind him, before moving to stand in front of you.

What if someone had seen him? You don't get the chance to say anything before he lowers himself to his knees in front of you.

“You make me, insatiable, little lamb, and I will not be denied any longer.”

His eyes on yours, he reaches under your skirts, warm hands gliding along your legs gently, working their way up… up… until his fingers curl on the edges of your undergarment. 

“I'll make you feel good.” He promises, when he notices your hesitation, and you swallow, finding the words to protest.

“We shouldn’t.” You try softly, wondering why you picked now to suddenly defy him.

The corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Don't you trust me?” Billy asks softly.

You swallow, nodding automatically. Despite being apart for years, you knew that he was always someone you could depend on. There had never been a moment where you wondered if he was capable of leading you astray, and you weren't about to start now.

He tugs your undergarment down your legs, and you stiffen when he pushes your legs apart to settle between them.

He makes a soft hum of appreciation, before leaning in to kiss your thighs.

The sensation is so soft, so careful, that you feel your own fragility, tipping your head back, letting out a little gasp as his mouth pays you careful attention.

Is this what Eve felt? When she sinned for the very first time? How euphoric, how worshipped her experience might have been and you think you understand her just a little bit more.

When his tongue presses between your thighs, you have that aching sensation of familiarity, mixed with the sweet burning of ecstasy in your head.

You gasp, saying his name as pleasure rolls over you, the filthy sound of his tongue exploring you reaching your ears.

When his movement increases, you feel your body fight to succumb, muscles going pliant, thighs shaking as they try to comprehend the pleasure.

The squeaking sound of the confessional door opening fills your ears, your eyes open in panic.

It's not your side- it must be the other, you hear dull shuffling, before someone softly clears their throat.

You glance down at Billy between your thighs for help but he seems absolutely unbothered by the new developments.

Through the crisscrossed slats in the wood, you catch sight of red rimmed spectacles.

“Speak when you are ready.” Matthew’s voice says calmly on the other side.

You feel Billy’s tongue glide over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Bless me… Father, f-for my sins.”

You hear him let out a deep chuckle.

“Speak your sins, little one.”

Speak? You were supposed to speak? 

“It's been a few days since my last confession, and I find myself-ah- plagued with desire.”

Billy huffs in amusement, his breath tickling your center.

“In what way has this desire manifested?”

“Ph- physically- my body aches for release like never before.” Your eyes roll back into your head for a moment as Billy’s lips close around your bud.

“You poor thing,” Matthew hums, his voice sweetly sympathetic, you could only wonder if he had any inclination that on the other side of the wall you had another priest feasting hungrily between your thighs.

“Have you tried to resist temptation? To pray for strength in overcoming these carnal urges?”

“Yes I’ve tried,” You whisper hoarsely, “But they won’t go away, they won’t accept defeat.”

“I understand, little one. These desires are persistent, aren’t they? And yet, perhaps there is a freedom to surrendering to one’s true nature, embracing the passions that burn within us, rather than denying them.”

You find yourself nodding along helplessly while Billy licks you eagerly.

“Perhaps it is time to confront these feelings head-on. To acknowledge the fire that rages inside you and seek a way to quench its thirst.”

“Please, Father Murdock,” You gasp, saying his name, feeling Billy’s hands tighten on your thighs, “Guide me.” You finish.

Matthew’s fingers push through the slats of wood, and with one great tug, the small crisscrossed panel comes free, leaving an open square gap in its place.

Billy pauses the movements of his tongue between your thighs to lift his head. You stare in amazement at the gap, knowing that it shouldn’t have been that easy to remove.

“F-Father Murdock?” You ask softly.

“Kneel, little one.” He answers without explanation.

You glance down at Billy in confusion, watching a devious and seductive grin grow on his face. He raises a hand, and presses a finger to his lips, an indication for you to not say anything to give away Billy’s presence.

Billy pulls away, and settles himself on the floor  facing upwards, gripping your leg and tugging you off the little wooden bench seat, tugging at you until your knees are on either side of his face, your body directly in front of the wooden gap, facing Matt.

You don’t have a moment to ponder on what exactly Billy hopes to achieve with you almost seated on his face- when Father Murdock’s straining member appears in front of you.

Your mouth drops open in surprise- never having seen one so… prominent. It’s large in every conceivable way, and you’re not entirely sure what he expects you to do with it.

The tip of it is a flushed pink, beaded with a clear substance, and you stiffen in fear, feeling Billy’s hands roam your thighs in an attempt to soothe you.

“Matthew?” You ask again, hoping for some guidance.

“Open wide, little one. Worship your priest as only a devoted acolyte can.”

You exhale a breath of anxiety, leaning in, your mouth wraps around the very tip of him.

He groans softly, leaning in till his hips are flushed to the open gap. You tilt backwards in response, lest you take a significant portion of his length into your mouth before you’re ready.

You’re unsure of how to move, but it’s as if your body knows, the instinct hidden deep within you, only coming forth when needed. Slowly, you begin to move your head back and forth, taking him into your mouth measuredly.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, “Don’t be afraid, embrace the pleasure.”

Your mouth wrapped around him, you moan in surprise when you feel Billy pull your hips onto his face, his tongue finding that aching spot inside of you once more.

It’s sin, it has to be. This was the pleasures of the flesh that you’d been warned about from an early age. The fear of enjoyment that the matrons had tried to beat into you, falling apart with just the touch of Billy’s tongue and a mouthful of Matthew’s swollen erection.

“You love this, don’t you, little one? You crave the taste of my divine body.”

You moan in agreement, taking him deeper, hearing him stutter out a breath in response.

Billy’s tongue is equally wicked, delving into your deepest parts, flicking rapidly along your swollen bundle of nerves, making you more desperate to please.

You choke on Matthew’s erection, taking it too deeply in an impassioned moment, hearing the man before you groan especially loud.

You can barely think, squeezing your eyes shut, rocking your hips onto Billy’s tongue as your body burns, begging for a release that promises incoherence.

You work your mouth to the pace of Billy’s tongue, your jaw aching at Matthew’s size, your body tingles, nipples pebbled and rubbing against your underclothing, desperate to be free.

You moan around his erection, body shaking, the pleasure Billy gives you is so much more than you've ever experienced.

You squeeze your eyes shut, whines muffled by Matthew, and you take him in deeply as you feel your body reach its peak.

You tremble, rubbing yourself desperately onto Billy’s tongue as rapture, unlike anything you've ever experienced, fills you. From your aching center, all the way up your spine, filling your head with hazy thoughts of submission and obedience.

In the midst of it, you hear Matthew groan, before he spills into your mouth. 

You swallow without thinking, some of it slipping from the corner of your mouth as he draws away with haste, concealing himself before replacing the wooden panel that he'd ripped off.

You pant, leaning back, pulling your body off of Billy’s mouth to settle on the floor beside him. He lets out a soft chuckle, sitting up, your lower halves pressed together in the tight space.

He licks at his lips, you watch, transfixed, wiping his mouth to rid himself of any evidence of debauchery.

His eyes filled with mirth as they study you. He reaches out, and uses a thumb to swipe at Matthew’s release on your face, guiding it into your mouth.

“What I wouldn't give to be able to take you right now.” He murmurs, deep in thought.

“What's stopping you?” You ask curiously, not totally sure if you were ready for that.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling you against him, cradling your body in the small space.

“It's not time.” He answers cryptically, holding you close in these moments as your bodies come to terms with the sins you've committed.

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