#i do not have whooping cough for the record
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She Bordetella on my pertussis till I whoop
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✧˚. ❃ ↷ Call it what you want to, part three
[I'm having way too much fun with these, but i'm gonna try and make the next part the final. i'm so glad you guys are as obssessed as me. and all i can say is i'm sorry to the tom blyth girlies, believe me, i am one of you and i promise i'll make it up to you!]
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You are texting ... Timothee Chalamet
Timothee Chalamet is calling... My Daisy <3 [declined]
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liked by ... tchalamet, lola.tung, emmalouisecorrin, florenceough, louispartridge_ & others
yourusername: dreams do come true, can't wait to see you later graham norton!!
705k likes 304k comments
user: omg she's such a star
user: my bby moving up in the world
user: no omg cause this is a dream for her
user: ur so pretty
user: I LOVE U
tchalamet: let's go!!! can't wait
yourusername: wait for me at least
tchalamet: waiting...
user: they're so cute!!1
user: i BET he dumped kylie to be with her and she's dating tom
user: my two fave's
user: she looks so good
user: y does timmy only follow one person and it's her
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the graham norton show has been a dream since you started acting, you'd hoped to one day make it on and know that if you did, you'd have officially made it.
not only were you on the show with timmy, but cher, julia roberts and tom hanks. to say you were shaking in your boots was an understatement. back stage you were jumping around after spending some time with the guests. that time had been spent mainly at timothee's side and laughing when appropriate, because you just couldn't believe you were there with them. timothee just laughed, trying to ease your nerves even if he to was scared. in the end, he bounced with you.
you sat on the end of the sofa, next to timothee as the guests ran down the other end.
'and some stars we have on the sofa, look at them at the end. world premier of wonka!' celebrated graham.
you and timmy nodded, thanking the applauses.
'but it wasn't just the world premier, you filmed it over here?' he asked.
'yea we made it in leavesden, very close to here, we shot it almost entirely in london and er- as i always say- i feel like an honorary brit now,' said timmy, glancing at you as he called himself a brit.
you bite back something between a grimace and a smile.
'it was about six of seven months,' he continued, 'it was absolutely joyous as an ignorant yankee.'
'you guys drive on the other side of the road,' joked tom hanks.
'and welcome, at the end there being very quiet,' said graham gesturing to you.
'yea, hi!' you grin, taking a sip of your drink as the audience laugh.
'you're from here, aren't you?'
'yes, british. but it was still really nice to film in london and bath for a lot of it.'
'i can imagine and because, is it right, you were filming for the hunger games whilst you were filming wonka?' he asked. a picture of your poster for the hunger games flashed on the screen and timmy led the applause, whooping.
his attention was only focused on you. his eyes watching every movement, his lips curling up, arm around the back of the sofa.
'thank you, thank you. immediately after filming wonka i got a plane to poland to start filming for the hunger games, yea. literally still in costume for wonka on the plane, i-i got some looks.'
the crowd laugh.
'let's talk about that, hunger games, number one movie!' graham celebrated as everyone clapped.
'thank you, thank you- there we are,' you smile at the picture of tom and you in your characters in the zoo scene. you chose not to notice of timothee shifted around and coughed at the picture.
'and, is it true you did your own singing in that?'
'yes, well i do in wonka too, but for the hunger games it was live. you know, i play this character lucy-grey who's part of this covey band and they all sing so i did it all live on set. then recorded it for the soundtrack separately. this is boring to explain, but-' you said, laughing and fiddling with your rings nervously.
'she's fantastic in the movie,' said timothee, putting his attention on graham and his hand on yours to stop the fiddling. 'i remember working with her in wonka, it was just so much fun, she brings a sort of ... breath of fresh air into it, even though it's a light-hearted comedy, she still makes that difference. and i saw the hunger games, its so cool to be able to see her in an element that i'm not familiar with. but i can still see how she plays the role and how she plays it in such her own and charismatic way.'
you turn your head down, blushing as the crowd clap and as timothee rubs your back. he made it impossible to keep it cool, and on live tv.
'and she sang the songs so good in wonka!' he continued. you tried to get him to stop, but he went on. 'on our table read, she was singing the songs there with our music producer, james taylor, and even then she was singing her parts, our co-stars parts, my parts.'
'ok, shush, shush,' you put your hand over timothees mouth.
'you know what, i saw the new hunger games movie,' said tom hanks, breaking in between you. 'and i have to say, you were the best part of the movie.'
your jaw almost dropped. 'oh woah, thank you, thank you mr tom hanks,' you clasp your hands together, thanking him. 'woah, woody just complimented me, that means so much to me.'
the rest of the interview went on, talking about cher's music, pretty women and listen to tom hanks talk about space and science. sometimes, when timmy would take a drink, he'd bring you yours, offering it to you in a sweet move.
it went on to talk about timothee going to play the iconic bob dylan in a movie, so it was your turn to watch in admiration, eyes sparkling with it.
'no i haven't met him, i'd love to meet him but you know, i don't want to put any pressure on him in any way. but er- we just saw him live,' he said, gesturing to you as you nod, holding onto your drink, 'three weeks ago, in new york. sold out, kings theatre. it was brilliant, it was magical. they bag your phone on the way in, obliges you to be present, as hard as that may be,' he said again, glancing to you. because how could he ever be present when standing next to you?
a picture showed of bob dylan with sonny and cher.
'i can see it, there is a passing resemblance,' says graham.
'thank you, that is the biggest compliment. my god, i'm blown away,' he leant back on the sofa, arm brushing yours. 'this whole talk show has been like a trip.'
everyone laughed at that, tom hanks playing along.
'but cher, you're going to be played by someone soon,' prompted graham.
'please say it's me,' said julia roberts.
'well-' graham gestured down to you.
you laugh and sheepishly hold up your hand. 'i'll do it, i'm currently un-employed.
cher looked down at you, 'we've cast nobody, babe.'
'you have now,' you shrug. the audience laugh.
finally, you guys talked about wonka, leading timothee- the leading man- to talk about it.
'you sing and dance in it, don't forget that,' you nudge him.
timothee blushes, nodding. somehow the two of you had snuggled up on the sofa, pushed to the end and bodies pressed close together. 'it's blasphemy to say that on a sofa with cher!'
'no, i saw you on saturday night live, you were great. and you danced and you did that hot-guys, or cool-guys or something like that,' said cher.
the audience clap and you laugh loudly, remembering his saturday night live. you'd been in the audience, having done press for the hunger games. it was the best night.
'baby face!' you cheer.
'i can't believe you watched that,' said timmy to cher.
'do you want to re-fresh us?' invited julia.
the crowd whoop and laugh as you clap along.
'you sing it with me?' asked timmy, looking over at you.
'absolutely not, this is all you babe,' you pat him on the back as he leans forward and re-counts the song. you nod your head along with, mouthing the words and clapping, pretending to bow when he was finished. timmy laughed and held onto you.
'you two do seem very close down there,' said graham.
for a moment, you two pause and there's quiet. before you guys realise he's talking about the fact everyone on the sofa had shuffled down so that you were on the edge.
'timmy's magnetic field,' you say, rubbing his shoulders.
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instagram story... tchalamet posted!
caption: graham norton, let's go!!
tagged: yourusername
caption: she's calling
tagged: yourusername
Instagram story … yourusername posted
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user: guys, tom was out partying with friends and his ex-gf while yourusername was doing her graham norton interview
user: as he should after yourusername spends all her time with timothee
user: they’re friends
user: img party boy
user: why is this news? do we care
user: noooooo my parents
user: what if there relationship is just all pr for the film 😔😔
user: I love tom, let him do what he wants
user: she’s better with timmy anyway
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liked by… tchalamet, sadiesink_, rachelzegler, tomblyth, vanityfair & others
yourusername: thank you so much vanity fair for featuring me and coming to my home town (p.s I’m so sorry about all the sheep poo x)
771k likes 401k comments
user: love!
user: ONG the only one to ever exsist ever!
user: I can’t wait to see what she says about tom and timothee
user: she is her own person
user: OMG TAYLOR SWOFT
user: collab when???
user: I love u!!!!
user: I can’t wait to read and stare at you
tchalamet: let’s go!!!!
yourusername liked tchalamet’s comment
user: parents are interacting
user: anyone notice her and tom been really quiet? they went from making out in streets to barley being seen together
user: reputation era!!!
user: is this a reputation easter egg??
tomblyth: very proud, my dear !
yourusername: thanks bro ;)
user: what!!!!!
user: WHAT HAS HAPPENED
user: he got bro zoned
user: they went from quoting notting hill to calling each other bro 😭😭
yourusername in conversation with VANITY FAIR.
user: so she dating tom or what?
user: did you just not read the article?
user: tomblyth do me a favour and tell her to make up her mind
tomblyth: user do me a favour and get a life
user: HE DID THAT
user: tom so fr
user: tom a real bf
user: i love them!!!!
user: I love her!!!
user: she said what she said and left no crumbs
user: queen shit
user: MOTHER!!
user: the way she talks suggests they are only friends and my heart breaks
user: i'll miss them
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:) taglist: @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!)
#timothee x reader#timothee imagine#wonka#tom blyth#timothee x you#timothée chalamet#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth imagine#coryo#fame dr#timothee x y/n
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Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 16
All right my lovelies we have a proper count for how long this going to be. 17 parts with a epilogue. So by Tuesday this story will be done. I am so grateful for everyone who has commented and reblogged this story every time a new part has come out. You know who you are. I love each of you!!
This is it, the part everyone has been waiting for. The boys finally get their heads out of their asses. Yay!!! (Insert Kermit the frog arm waving gif here). A little Buckingham, too. ;) The next part is a little spicy (no actual sex is shown but Steve and Eddie do get naked). And then a super soft epilogue.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
*
Gareth was on the phone with their agent when Eddie arrived for practice. Jeff was pacing and Brian was in the corner with his head in his hands.
Eddie skidded to a stop and opened his mouth to ask when Gareth said, “Yeah, yeah, they’re all here. Yeah one second.” And he hit a button on his phone.
“Can everybody here me?” the agent asked.
All of them chorused the affirmative.
“Great,” the agent said, his voice dripping on the edge of too excited. “I got a call from Upside Down Records, they’re based out of Chicago. And they want you come and record a full album with them in August.”
“I’m going to need you to repeat that,” Jeff said.
“Upside Down Records wants Corroded Coffin to record an album in August.”
“Holy shit!” Gareth breathed. “That’s so awesome.”
Brian coughed, trying to clear his throat. “Did they say why August?”
The agent chuckled. “It’s when their studio will be available. They have a band in there right now. But they have to present their album by the end of June. So August was the earliest they could get you in. But they’re super happy to have you.”
“Thanks, Murray,” Eddie breathed.
“I’ll get started trying to find you guys a place to stay while you’re recording,” Murray said. “It will most likely to be a loft where you all would be staying together.”
“That’s fine...” Jeff stuttered. “That’s fine.”
“Yeah,” Gareth said. “Absolutely.”
“Thanks again,” Eddie said.
“Of course, boys,” Murray said. “Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”
Brian let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, yeah you did.”
“Congrats, I mean it,” Murray said. “I couldn’t believe those asshats at the Queen’s Crown both passed on you. And when you guys go platinum I intend to send them black roses.”
That got them laughing.
“There we are,” Murray said. “Now I’ve gotta go. I’ll keep in contact with everyone to let you know how the living arrangement search is going, okay?”
Everyone voiced their agreement and then the call ended.
There was silence for about a minute and then they were jumping and running to give each other hugs.
“We did it!” Eddie screamed.
“I’ve got to call my girlfriend,” Jeff said.
“Yeah,” Gareth said. “I’ve got my own phone calls to make. I think we all do.”
Brian giggled. “I think it’s safe to say that we’re not practicing tonight.”
“No,” Eddie agreed. “But after we make our calls, we are going out to celebrate.”
The other three whooped and cheered.
Eddie called Wayne and Chrissy. If he wiped away a tear after his conversation with his uncle, no he didn’t. He wiped away several. Chrissy on the other hand screamed so loud that the other members stopped and stared at him.
“I love you too,” Eddie said. “But I’m already destined to lose my hearing as a metal artist, can you not, you know, speed up the process?”
She laughed.
After he was done with her he stared at the phone.
Gareth noticed and ended the call he was on with. He walked over to Eddie and put his hand on his shoulder.
“He’ll be happy for you and you know it,” he told Eddie fiercely. “He’s been your biggest cheerleader since the two of you got your heads out of each other’s asses.”
“I know,” Eddie whispered. “I just wish there was a way he could come with us.”
Gareth gave his shoulder a squeeze and went back to the others.
Jeff cleared his throat. “All right, it’s time to party.”
*
Eddie knew he didn’t have to wear something nice to the gala, but he wanted to anyway. He dressed in a nice black button up with a red vest, the shirt only buttoned from the start of the vest, down. He paired it with tight black jeans and his white sneakers. His hair was pulled back with a black, skull-themed bandanna.
He checked in the mirror again, fiddling with his hair for the billionth time. Chrissy had to drag him from his apartment to get him to stop.
Chrissy herself had dressed up, wearing a pink sheath dress with a white cardigan.
When they got the gallery, they were pleased to see that most of the people had dressed up as well and that set Eddie at ease.
He wandered around the gallery drinking punch and eating the refreshments. In the crowd he spotted Chrissy and Robin with their heads together, giggling at something written in the little program they had passed out. Eddie paused for a moment.
Chrissy threw her head back and Robin looked at her with stars in her eyes.
Well that was certainly interesting. He only hoped that Diamond wasn’t against inter-employee relations, because both of those girls were well on their way to being completely smitten with each other.
He spotted the Karen before he spotted the 18+ area. She was screaming that her little crouch goblin had slipped into the adult area and seen the most awful licentious things imaginable. The guard was pointing out that if she hadn’t let him run around unsupervised he wouldn’t have seen those things. The area was clearly marked and behind a purple satin curtain.
And that’s when Eddie spotted it. Yup. Great, big, fucking purple curtain. With banners stating adults only, 18+, enter at your own risk. He slipped in and was pleased to note that inside they also had partitions up separating, nudity, violence, and social commentary (things that didn’t quite fit in the other two, but were sensitive nonetheless. Scenes after an earthquake, children starving, that sort of thing.)
Eddie started there. Most of these were photos from the photography majors. There were a few paintings and one very notable charcoal drawing. He stopped in front of that one for a while. It was of the 1969 Stonewall Riot. It had a ribbon next to it for best depiction of a historical event.
He moved on to the violence section. The pictures of war. The murder of Caesar. And one particularly hilarious scene of the Bible story of Judith slitting the throat of Holofernes with Eddie as the dude getting murdered. He laughed. He supposed the pose could be interpreted that way. Even if it was a bit over the top. He looked closer at the name and then he really started laughing. Michelle Gardener. The bitch that tried to make Steve move from his spot.
His very first rescue of Steve. Before they talked, before they became friends, before they became essential to each other.
And then finally he got to the nudity section. This is where most of Joyce’s classes were located.
Here was Eddie as Morpheus, as Lucifer, as Lysander. But then he got the center piece. It had won best in show. And it was magnificent. The come hither stare, the sheer white drapes opened to reveal his prone form, the gracefulness of the lines. He was enraptured. None of the other artists had painted him like this. This was a declaration of love if there ever was one.
“What do you think?” Steve asked, appearing suddenly at his elbow.
Eddie’s head whipped around to face him. “Holy shit, Steve, it’s beautiful.”
Steve smiled. “I had to keep taking it home so you wouldn’t see it before now. I wanted it to be surprise. I was so tempted to keep it to myself to only let a handful of people to see it. Mrs Byers. Robin. You. But Robin was right, art is meant to be seen. So here it is for everyone to see.”
“She’s always right,” Eddie said with a soft smile.
“I know,” Steve said with a grin. “It’s so annoying.”
They stared at the painting for awhile just admiring Steve’s work, when he spoke.
“Most of these will be auctioned off at a silent auction later tonight, the proceeds will go toward helping disadvantaged youth to get into art,” he murmured.
Eddie looked up at him panicked, point up at their painting. “Is–”
Steve shook his head. “I couldn’t bare the thought of it going to some random stranger. So I dug into my savings at bought it outright. It’s yours, actually. I’m giving it to you.”
Eddie closed his eyes. “Steve...”
Steve took his hand. “Robin kept begging me to tell you. But I was enjoying our time together so much. But I’m not staying in Indiana. I’m leaving for Chicago at the end of July. I’ll be doing my student teaching and getting my teaching certificate for the state of Illinois. So it’s yours. To have something to remember me by. I just hope you’ll come visit me sometime.”
“Oh.” Eddie opened his eyes to see that Steve was on the verge of tears. “Sweetheart, I think it will go nicely in our apartment in Chicago. Unless you already have a place?”
Steve stared at him in shock. “No, no. You can’t follow me to Chicago. You’ve got a life ahead of you here. You guys are on the verge of making it big. I refuse to be the reason you gave up on your dreams.”
Eddie gently took Steve’s face in his hands. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you for about a week now, but I couldn’t because I didn’t want to face the fact that I would be leaving you here in Indy.”
Steve blinked, unable to cock his head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Our manager, Murray Bauman,” he said softly, “called last week. There’s a record label in Chicago that wants us to come and record an album for them in August.”
“You’re moving to Chicago for a record deal?” Steve asked, needing to be sure.
“That’s right, beautiful,” Eddie murmured. “We’re moving on to the same place.”
“Eddie I love you so much,” Steve cried, tears starting to roll down his face.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Steve’s. They both melted into the kiss and Steve clung to the back of Eddie’s vest.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered when he pulled away from Steve’s lips.
“Are you sure you want to move in with me?” Steve asked, breathless. “I–”
Eddie cooed gently. “I know it’s fast. I know we had a rough start. But baby, there is no one else I would rather be with then you.”
Steve let out a watery chuckle. “Okay. Yeah.” He looked up into Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah.”
“We have plenty of time,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “We have two and half months to find something that fits both our needs.”
Steve kissed him again. Hard and deep. Like he was trying to let Eddie know every thought and feeling that he kept inside.
When they pulled apart Eddie whispered, “Do you have to stay?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m not participating in the auction so I can leave at any time.”
“Great!” Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist and hauled him through the gallery as he looked for Chrissy and Robin.
When he spotted them, he made a beeline straight for them, Steve struggling to keep up.
“Hello, ladies!” Eddie greeted with a wide grin on his face. He dropped his keys into Chrissy’s hand. “I’m taking my boyfriend home and locking ourselves in my apartment.”
“Eddie!” Steve admonished, but couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face.
“About damn time!” Robin crowed. She gave Steve a big kiss on the cheek.
“Would you make sure to grab my painting before the auction starts?” he asked as he wiped his cheek.
“Absolutely!” she said and then pushed the two of them. “Now shoo!”
Eddie and Steve laughed.
“Don’t forget to use protection!” Chrissy called.
“Back at you, bitch!” Eddie said over his shoulder.
Robin turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Now why would you need to use protection?”
Chrissy batted her eyelashes prettily at her. “Because it’s cleaner, and more fun with a ribbed action.”
Robin’s eyes went wide. “Oh. So is that on offer then?”
Chrissy pulled her in for a gut searing kiss.
“That would be a yes,” Robin said dumbly and then kissed her again.
Part 17 Epilogue
@artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi
#My writing#stranger things#steddie#art school au#gay steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#ladykailtiha writes
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we could be more | dean winchester | 3
Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.
SERIES MASTERLIST
BLOODLUST
NOW PLAYING: REVENGE - TANFEELZ
I walked down the stairs, and when he saw me, Dean choked on his morning coffee while Sam sipped it, amused.
“Morning, boys.” I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring one of my own, adding creamer.
“Morning.” Sam smirked.
“Is that what you’re wearing on the case?” Dean asked, putting his hand over his chest. I looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should start teasing him or not. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, high-waisted slim jeans and was wearing a baseball cap.
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “What, can’t call me Beanie now?”
“I still will and you know it.”
“Course you will, but what about my outfit is distracting, Dean?”
“Yeah, Dean?” Sam chuckled.
“Nothing.” He coughed. “Let’s just get in the Impala as quickly as we can. I can’t wait to drive her again.”
We were now in the Impala, driving to Red Lodge cause we’d gotten another case. Dean was happily singing along to the music, while Sam and I watched him, amused.
“Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?” He whooped, grooving along to the music.
”If you two ever wanna get a room, let Sam and I know.” I quipped, making Sam laugh.
”Oh, don't listen to them, baby. They don’t understand us.” He cooed.
”You’re in a good mood.” Sam smirked.
”Why shouldn't I be?”
“No reason.”
”Got my car, got my case, things are looking up…”
”Wow, Dean, give you a couple of severed heads and mutilated cows and you’re Mr Sunshine.” I chuckled, making Sam cackle, and Dean laughed too, to my surprise.
”How far to Red Lodge?” He asked.
”300 miles.” Sam replied.
Dean’s eyes glanced back to where my bandage used to be, thinking. ”Beanie, are you good for me to-“
”Dean, I’m not fragile, just floor it.” I rolled my eyes, and he pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding up.
We walked up to the sheriff in his office, who admittedly had an impressive moustache.
“Hello sir, we’re with World Weekly News.” I introduced. “My name’s Lily Carter, and these are my partners Fred Logan,” I pointed at Sam, “and Jensen Barnes.” I gestured to Dean. “Is it alright if we ask a few questions?” I asked, and Dean and Sam looked at me in masked surprise, wondering how I lied so naturally.
“The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time.” He replied coldly.
“Sure, sure, we understand that,” Sam nodded, “but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?”
“Mhmm.”
“And the other, a, uh, Christina Flanagan.”
“That was two days ago. Is there-“ A lady knocked at the door, pointing at her watch. The sheriff turned back to us, frowning. “Alright, you three, time’s up.”
“One last question-“
“Yeah, what about the cattle?” Dean interrupted, stopping the sheriff.
“Excuse me?” He asked, eye twitching.
“You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained... over a dozen cases.”
“What about them?”
“Is there no connection at all, Sherriff?” I persisted, writing down my notes in a notebook.
“Connection… with..?”
”First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff.” Sam insinuated casually.
“Satanic ritual stuff.” Dean added.
“You’re not kidding…” The sheriff trailed off.
”No.”
”Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?”
“How?” I asked.
“Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat'll split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?”
“Weekly World News.” Dean said confidently.
“World Weekly News.” Sam corrected.
“Weekly World-“
”World Weekly-“
”Weekly-“
”World-“
“World Weekly News.” I finished, closing my notebook. “They’re new. We’ll be leaving you to it, officer.” I walked out, prompting the two to follow after.
“How are you so good at lying?” Sam asked.
“You get good once you become a freak of nature.” I replied. “Hide your name or people will be after your blood and secrets.”
“What next?” Dean asked.
“Examine the bodies. I’ve got a couple of doctor’s coats in the car.”
“You touched my baby without telling me?”
“I cleaned the fingerprints off, Dean, you’re fine.”
We walked over to the front desk of the morgue wearing our doctor’s coats. There was an intern at the desk, and when we walked up to the desk, Dean took a look at the tag, which read ‘J. Manners’.
“John.” Dean guessed.
“Jeff.” Jeff grimaced.
“Jeff.” He repeated. “I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”
“But Dr Dworkin’s on vacation.”
“But he’s back and he’s screaming for you right now, so if I were you, I would…” Dean whistled, and Jeff ran away.
“Real smooth, Dean.” I sighed, taking a lock-picking tool and opening the door, letting us into the room with the heads.
“Yeah, I know. Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?“
“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead.” Sam confirmed.
“Yeah. So much f'd up stuff happens in Florida.” We got three pairs of latex gloves and put them on, wheeling out a tray of a corpse with a box between it’s legs. “All right, open it.”
“No, you open it.”
“No, you-“
”You-“
“Both of you are wusses.” I rolled my eyes, carrying the box to a table and opening it. They both approached, wincing at the sight of the decapitated girl’s head. “So, decapitated head, which is nasty, but the forehead is clean.”
“Wow. Poor girl.” Sam tutted.
“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat.” Dean suggested. “You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”
“Yeah, here, go ahead.”
“No, you go ahead.”
“You thought of it.”
“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Not a quote from Silence of the Lambs.
“Again, you’re wusses.” I searched in the mouth, checking the teeth and airways.
”Beanie, do you need me to catch you if you-“
”I’m not going to faint, Dean, but you might.”
“Just checking.”
”Dean, get me a bucket.” Sam asked from behind me.
“Did she find something?”
“No, I’m gonna puke.”
“Hey, guys.” I beckoned them over and lifted up the lip again, and both of them retched. “Oh, grow up. Look at the gum. This hole here?” I pressed a hole in the gum, and two pointed teeth sprang out.
“It's a tooth.”
“Sam, that’s a fang.” Dean corrected. “Retractable set of vampire fangs. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Well, that changes things.” Sam grinned.
“Ya think?”
We entered a bar, where there was a man smoking at the counter. We were moving to sit down when Dean pulled out my chair for me and tucked it in when I moved to sat down. Sam and I gave him a weird look, but let it go.
“How's it going?” Dean nodded, sitting down.
“Living the dream.” The bartender replied coolly. “What can I get for you?”
“Three beers, please.”
“So, we're looking for some people.” Sam started nervously.
“Sure. Hard to be lonely.”
“Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant.” He dropped a 50 dollar bill on the table, and the bartender took it. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink...”
“Sleep all day, party all night, kind of thing.” I added.
“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.” The bartender informed, cleaning a glass.
“Right, thanks.” We got up, leaving our half-finished beers on the table. The man who was at the bar was gone, but his cigarette was left. We walked out, and I took my gun out of my pocket, holding it inconspicuously.
“Do you also see the guy behind us?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, we do.” Dean hissed. “Let’s lose him then question him.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I whispered, and we quickly went to the right, and heard the footsteps behind us stop.
“Beanie, stay back, cause if this guy’s a vamp, he’s dangerous.”
“The hell I will. Why are you being so protective?”
“He’s here.” Sam muttered.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Dean grumbled before he sprang out, taking out a knife and throwing the guy against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. “Smile.”
“What?”
“Show us those pearly whites.”
“Oh, for the love of -- you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire.” He looked at Sam’s stunned face and nodded the best he could. “Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.”
“What do you know about vampires?” Sam interrogated.
“How to kill ‘em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.“ He started to pull away, but Sam reached in and pinned him harder to the wall. “Easy there, Chachi. We’re trying to keep me conscious here, aren’t we-“ I pulled Dean’s hand away from the guy’s neck and hook punched him, making him groan.
“You’re not in charge here, we are.” I growled, cocking my gun and holding it up. “So you better give us something before you find this at your temple.”
“Alright, alright!” He pulled up his lip, showing us his gum. “No fangs, happy? Gorgeous form, by the way.” Sam let him go, all of us relaxing.
“Damn, Ivy.” Sam breathed.
“Damn it is.” Dean chuckled.
“I like her.” The man chuckled, gesturing to me. “She one o’ your girlfriends, or somethin’?”
“They’d be honoured if I was.” I smirked.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Ivonne Rainer.”
He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Rainer? You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”
“Mick Rainer?” Dean repeated.
“Yeah, I’m his daughter.” I breathed. “What of it?”
“I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “I’m Gordon. Come with me.” We started walking to the car park. “And you boys?”
“Sam Winchester.” Sam introduced. “And, uh, my brother Dean.”
“I’ll be damned again. John Winchester’s boys? It’s like I’ve hit a jackpot.” We reached his car, and he opened it, revealing an arsenal of weapons. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot. Then there’s Michael Rainer.” He turned to me, whistling. “I ain’t ever met a man who can wrangle a spirit, demon, ‘geist, you name it- faster than he can. Shame he passed away as well.”
“Your dad’s dead?” Sam asked me, looking concerned.
“Again, story for another time.” I groaned, folding my arms.
“You seem to know a lot about our families.” Dean frowned.
“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.”
“I don’t think they do.” I scoffed.
“There’s a lot your dads didn’t tell you, then.”
“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam asked.
“Yep, been here two weeks.” I looked at his arsenal until I saw the hook, which had bloodstains on it. They were fresh. I looked back at Gordon, biting my lip.
“You ok?” Dean whispered in my ear. “Anything hurting?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I snapped back.
“Just checkin’, Beanie.” He turned back to Gordon. “Did you check out that Barker farm?”
“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” Gordon shook his head.
“Where's the nest, then?”
“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”
“We can help.”
”Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”
“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.”
“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon got in his car, looking out. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off, leaving us to stew in the events. I slipped the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pocket, storming over to the car.
“Bea- Ivonne!” Dean called, walking behind me. “What the hell?!”
Sam’s footsteps joined Dean’s. ”Dean, let me handle this-“
“No!”
I got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Dean and Sam got in, Dean in the seat beside me. I groaned in frustration, thankful that I didn’t have my powers. “Stupid Gordon revealing stupid everything-“
”Revealing what- Ivonne, talk to me! What the hell’s going on-“
”Dean!” Sam silenced Dean, leaning forward. “Can we talk about this once we’ve actually gotten a place to stay? Cause I personally don’t wanna die in a car crash and the last thing I hear is you two yelling it out!”
Dean sat back in his seat, groaning. “Fine.”
I didn’t say anything, I just started driving.
When we got a motel, the first thing Dean did was round on me.
“Is that the person who died, Ivonne?” He interrogated. “Cause you seem a whole lot angrier since Gordon mentioned Mick Rainer’s death.”
”What happened to my dad is none of your business-“
“A lot of things about you is none of our business!” Dean burst out. “Hell, the most I know about you is your name and what kind of coffee you like! You said your dad wasn’t around a lot and now both Sam and I know why, but you’re not telling us anything!”
“What about you, Dean, huh?” I countered, stepping forward and sizing him up. I was shorter, but oh well. “You’re not tellin’ me a lotta things either. You’re acting like I’m gonna collapse and die any minute, asking me if I’m doin’ ok, pullin’ out my chair, so what’s the deal about that, eh?” Dean seemed at a loss for words.
“We get that the subject is sensitive, but our dad died too.” Sam calmly explained. “We’d know how you feel.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“It’s hard to believe, but we do, and we want to help. We’re here to protect you. Tell us what happened.”
I stayed silent.
“Then we’ll wait.” Sam assured, then hugged me. Dean stood there awkwardly, looking guilty. But not for this, I don’t think. When we stepped back, Sam smiled. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner.” He left, and Dean went into the bathroom. I opened my satchel, taking out some spare pyjamas and changing into them, laying joggers out for the boys. I changed into shorts, but the moment I pulled my top over my head, Dean walked in. He looked me up and down for a moment, at a loss for words again.
“Damn.” He coughed, then seemed to realise. “Not damn, bad Dean-”
”You’re good.” I smiled briefly, pulling my pyjama top on. “We’re gonna be in this kind of situation a lot. I, uh, packed some joggers for you.”
”Thanks.” He picked them up, looked at them, paused, then put them down. “Look, Ivonne, I’m sorry.”
”For what?” I chuckled. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me.”
”But what happened to your dad is your business. I’m not gonna pry, just tell me when you’re ready.”
”I can work with that.”
“And about the protecting you and all that jazz, it’s cause I blame myself for that knife in you.” I immediately turned to him, folding my arms.
“Hey, no, it wasn’t.”
”It’s just… it was my job to locate that guy and if I’d done it a little faster, your life wouldn’t be on the line.”
”You’d only find me dead with a knife in my jugular.”
”That’s specific.” He joked until he quietened down. “That’s how your dad died.”
”Close.” I smiled.
“And you’re attached to the name Lily Carter too.” He deduced. “She close?”
”They.” I paused, sitting on my bed. “Lily and Carter Rainer. My brother and sister.” Dean sat beside me, clasping his hands. Sam walked back in, and, sensing the situation, pulled up a chair. “I think I should tell you what happened. You guys told me the deal with your mom, so it’s fair play.”
”When you’re ready.” Sam nodded.
“I was meant to be the eldest sibling of five. It was me, then Carter, fifteen, then Quinn, Carter’s twin, then Lily, thirteen, then my mom’s unborn child, just 18 weeks in. I was 19. Quinn had been diagnosed with cancer just before mom got pregnant, and died soon after. It broke everyone, and even the gender reveal of my baby brother didn’t cheer anyone up. It was like we were soulless, and I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, especially not Carter, who started acting up.” I paused, breathing out shakily.
“You need to cut that attitude, young man.” I growled, facing Carter. “Quinn and dad are both dead, I know-“
”You don’t know!” He shouted.
”The hell I do! I’m trying my hardest to-“
”That’s where you’re wrong, Ivonne, cause you’re not trying at all.” Carter seethed. “Lily was taken out of school cause she kept crying and where are you during the day when I get into a fight?”
”Taking care of our mother.” I frowned. “Y’know, cause she’s pregnant with our brother and dad isn’t even alive to help so that means that I have to step in. Heck, he wasn’t even here in the first place. Just… go to your room!” I pointed to his room, and he stalked off, giving me a nasty look.
“Take your time.” Dean murmured.
”Nah, I need to… I need to get this out.” I gulped, trying to stop my voice from breaking. “If I don’t, I’ll explode. One day, we get the news that dad was found dead, but his heart was carved out of his body, almost so perfectly it was surgical. I completely bricked out Carter by then, cause I thought he didn’t need me and I had my own problems. Seems like a dreamwalking demon found his emotions good enough to feed on. In the night, I hear a scream, and then silence.” Tears started to fill my eyes as my voice broke. “I run to investigate and I find Lily dead with a knife stuck right through her jugular.”
I was reading a book, flipping the pages absent-mindedly. I frowned, looking at the introduction of the main character’s younger brother-
“IVY!” I heard Lily scream. “IVY, HE-“
Silence.
“Lily!” I called, leaping out of bed and rushing up the stairs. “LILY!” I burst into her room and almost collapsed, and she was lying in her bed, eyes open and a terrorised face.
But there was a knife stuck straight through her throat.
“Lily!” I cried, running over. “Lily…” I felt tears run down my face as I kissed her forehead, smoothing back her hair. I cradled her, sobbing as I tried to ignore the gaping hole that had appeared in me where Lily once was. “I’m so sorry, Lil. I’m so sorry…”
“God.” Dean breathed.
”Then I hear mom scream, then silence. I go up to her bedroom and there she is, a knife through her jugular and another in her belly, where my unborn brother was. We were going to name him Nathan. He wasn’t even alive yet and he was murdered…” I wiped a tear that went down my face. “Carter was there, smirking as if he did me a favour. Then another knife appeared in his hand, and he was about to do the same to me when he stopped and he…” I let out a loud sob, burying my face into my hands. Sam instantly moved to side hug me, while Dean gripped my hand. “He stabbed the knife… straight through his own throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. He wasn’t even awake in the first place.”
I’d barely finished mourning over Lily when a second scream pierced the house, which was my mom’s.
”PLEASE, SPARE ME! IVY, HELP ME-“
Silence.
I left Lily reluctantly, sprinting up the stairs two at a time to try and get there before the killer left. “MOM!” I kicked down her door, and I screamed at the sight. Blood stained her sheets, and there were two knives in her, one in her jugular and the other in her belly, where my now dead unborn brother is. I looked at the perpetrator and almost screamed.
It was Carter.
He was standing there, eyes glazed but a wicked grin on his face as he held another knife, preparing to throw it at me. However, in the nick of time, I felt my hand close around something. I didn’t even think about how I could use whatever was given to me, I just raised it, my finger pulled something and two loud bangs emitted from it, two holes appearing in my brother’s chest, and just after a black smoke flew up and out of the window. I stared at what was given to me with shaking hands, gasping in horror. It was a gun.
I’d shot my brother.
I ran over to Carter, taking the nape of his neck in my hand as I looked into his eyes. They were still glazed, as if he was sleeping.
He was sleeping.
“A dreawalker got to you, Carter.” I whispered, my quiet sobs turning to racking ones. I checked the gun wounds, which were black and like a crater, almost. The gun was still in my hand as the front door was knocked down, policemen filing in.
”After that, I completely broke down. My family was gone and murdered. So I got out of the police case innocent, fled Jersey and I’ve been moving ever since.”
“That…” Sam paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”
”My mom made my middle name Hazel cause it’s what she originally wanted to name me.” I whispered. “Her death, little Nate’s death, haunts me everyday. Even dad’s. I tried to buffer it by making the excuse that dad wasn’t there for anything and that mom cheated on him when she got the chance to, but it still hurts like hell. I can’t help but think if the dreamwalker will come back to finish the job with me.”
“Daniel Elkins?” I called out, venturing in. An old man turned around, frowning.
“Who’s askin’?” He rumbled, standing up.
”Ivonne Rainer, Michael Rainer’s daughter.”
”You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”
”That’s right.” He took a look at my face, nodding.
”You look just like him. Got a little bit of Audrey too.”
”I’ve been told.”
“I’m sorry for your losses.”
”Thank you.” I nodded, then held out the gun. “I developed a sorceress’s powers the night I got this gun, my powers gave it to me, but it’s not an ordinary one. I talked to hunters who knew my dad and they pointed me to you.” I gave him the gun, which he examined.
”Your powers are a blessin’, girl.” He said gruffly. “This is called the Colt. Can kill anyone an’ anything and all you have to do is pull the trigger and have good aim.”
“Can you handle it?”
”Course I can. Who d’you shoot with this?”
”My brother, just after a dreamwalker left his body.”
He clapped my shoulder, looking solemn. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”
”Ivonne, I am so sorry.” Dean pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. “I don’t have words either. But what happened isn’t your fault.”
“And we won’t let that dreamwalker hurt you.” Sam assured.
”We’ll kill it before it does.”
I felt kind of grateful for having Dean and Sam with me, but I also felt guilty.
”Do you need one of us to stay with you tonight?” Sam asked softly.
”Most likely.” I smiled awkwardly, then Dean raised his hand.
“I’ll do it. Sammy’s gonna take up the bed, him and his giant DNA.” Dean volunteered, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Whatcha thinking about?”
”I wanna track this Gordon guy.” I told them. “If he’s hunting vampires, he’s gonna do it tomorrow night and one may kill him. We don’t need another dead hunter.”
“She’s right.” Sam nodded. “We can track him down in the morning.”
”In the meantime, I packed joggers for you guys.” I gestured to the joggers. “I figured that we’d need a change of clothes if we happened to stay the night anywhere.”
“So that’s where that pair went.” Sam chuckled. “Nice one.”
“Now we don’t have to sleep in jeans.” Dean grinned, picking his up.
Dean emerged from the bathroom with just his joggers on, making Sam groan.
“Dean, it’s not you and I anymore.” He sighed.
“You’re acting like I haven’t seen a guy shirtless.” I smirked, making them double take. “Yeah. I have flings too.”
“Is Alex Wilde one of them, Beanie?” Dean smirked.
“No.”
“Well, there’s always time for it.”
“Ivy, are you comfortable with it?” Sam asked.
“Course. I practically raised Carter, so I can handle you both.
“That’s settled, then.” Dean grinned, shoving himself under the blanket. I quickly did my hair into a rope braid, and Dean’s eyes seemed to be… somewhere… on me.
“Dean…?” I raised an eyebrow, turning.
“Yeah, Beanie?”
“What are you staring at?”
“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smirked.
”I-I was staring at your necklace.” Dean stammered. “Wasn’t there before.”
“Ellen gave it. It was my mom’s.” I grinned, ruffling his hair. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered.” I got into bed, laying down next to Dean, both of us facing the ceiling. Sam turned off the light and laid down, falling asleep soon after. I heard a shift next to me.
“Beanie?” He muttered.
“Yeah?” I softly replied, turning my head to face his.
“What was Carter like?”
“He was like Sam, really. Smart, loyal, brave. Stubborn as hell. There’s not anything I wouldn’t have done for him. But he became a wreck after Quinn died, and it was so hard to recognise him. I guess that’s why I went so hard on him. I think I was trying to restore him in the worst way possible when I couldn’t deal myself.”
”I get that.” He whispered. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Sammy.”
”I can tell.” I smiled. “Even though you two fight like raccoons sometimes, you protect him. I just wished that I could have had the same thing with Carter.”
“You did what you had to do.” He assured. “Poor kid could’ve suffered worse had he woken up and been arrested for the murder of his family.”
”I suppose.” I shrugged. “Then again, I would’ve put my prints on the knives and said that I did it.” We stayed silent, just staring at the ceiling.
I shivered; it was cold. And, as if he had a radar, Dean sat up on his elbow, looking over. “You’re cold.”
“Excellent spot, Dean.”
“Sammy once said that staying close can preserve body heat.”
“Dean Winchester, are you trying to hit on me?”
“No, no! I do not. It’s that… I’m really warm, and I don’t want you to be cold cause then you’ll be uncomfortable-“
”I get it.” I grinned. “Sure.”
“Alright, uh…” He chuckled. “How are we gonna do this?” I scooted up to him, laying my head in the crook of his neck while my hand rested on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arms.
“You weren’t kidding.” I laughed. “This is like a radiator.”
“And you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He kissed my hair, sighing afterwards. “It’s only been a few, Beanie, and it doesn’t always seem like it, but I care about you. You take care of Sammy when I can’t. Heck, you’ve even saved my life-“
”Don’t say it.” I whispered, looking up. “Cause I know.”
I opened my eyes, yawning softly. Dean’s eyes were shut and Sam was cocooned in his blanket, so I pried myself out of Dean’s arms and quickly changed into a Led Zeppelin band shirt and jeans, pulling a black beanie over my head. Carter’s beanie. I got out a map, sat at the table and started triangulating the two murders and finding out the third location.
”Thanks, dad.” I whispered as I circled the third. I left a note for Sam and Dean, walking out and coincidentally running into Gordon.
“Morning, Ivonne.” He nodded.
“Gordon.” I replied with a small smile. “I thought I was the only early bird today.”
”I like to get a head start.” He grinned, and I felt unsettled a bit.
“Understandable.”
”Hey, uh, the gun you pointed at me, was that your dad’s gun?”
”It was.” I took it out of the inside of my jacket, holding it up.
“Mick Rainer’s gun.” Gordon chuckled. “Stuff of legend among hunters. There’s talk that it dated back farther than the Colt, and every owner, before passing it on, heats the metal and remoulds it, making the pattern-“
”-in the image of the next chosen holder, complete with their name.” I stored the gun back, smirking. “I know that story off by heart, thanks. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get breakfast for the boys.”
”BEANIE-“ Dean rushed out then stopped, still pulling on his shirt. “Oh.”
”Dean, I left a note.” I sighed.
”But I had to check!” He slumped. “Fine. Sam is cranky.”
”We better get that breakfast then.” I grinned. “Nice running into you, Gordon.” We walked off, and Dean turned to me, leaning in.
“Got a beer in your satchel?”
”I have a breath mint.”
”Ouch.”
That night, we were driving up to the farm which I’d said was Gordon’s next hit location. We went over, and there Gordon was, close to getting decapitated. Sam sprang into action, pulling Gordon out, while I punched the vampire, Dean rushing in to deliver another hit while I kicked him. The vampire was shoved against the belt, and Dean reached up, bringing the saw down on his head.
I watched while a vampire got brutally killed. And as he stared down on the body, with blood splattered on his face, Dean didn’t look guilty. Not in the slightest.
He looked like he enjoyed it.
I frowned, looking down as Gordon laughed, looking up. “I guess I owe you that drink.” We headed to the bar, where Gordon paid for the drinks. “I insist. Thank you, sweetie.“ He raised a glass, and Dean did too. “And another one bites the dust.”
”That’s right.” Dean smirked, both of them clinking glasses.
”Dean.” Gordon cackled. “You gave that big fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”
“Thank you.”
”Beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful.”
”Beautiful?” I cut in. Sam just stayed silent, laid back in his seat.
”You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked.
”Yeah.” Sam nodded.
”Well, lighten up, Sammy!” Gordon encouraged.
”Only Dean and Ivy get to call me that.”
“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”
”Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess.”
”Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job.”
“See? That's what I've been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.” Dean gestured to Gordon, but I tilted my head. Really? This dude?”
”Yeah, I could.” Sam grimaced, then stood up. “I’m not gonna put a downer on your parade. I’m going back to the motel.”
”I’ll go with him.” I stood up as well, smiling falsely as I walked behind Sam. “You boys enjoy yourselves.”
“Hey, Sam?” Dean called, making Sam and I turn around. “Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.” He threw the keys to Sam, who caught them. We walked out in silence, until Sam looked up.
Sam coughed. “Is it just me, or-“
“Is Dean being a douche?” I smirked. “Yeah. Big time.”
“This Gordon guy seems really off.”
“He does.” I nodded. “So I’ve got a way to find out who this guy is.”
We hung the keys in our room, and I dialled a number, putting it on speaker.
‘Harvelle's Roadhouse.’
“Ellen?” I grinned. “It’s Ivvy. Sam’s with me, and you’re on speaker.”
‘Ivvy, Sam! So good to hear from you.’
“Same here, Ellen.” Sam laughed.
‘You three are ok, aren’t you?’
“Yeah, we just had something to run by you.” I looked at Sam, patting him on the shoulder.
‘Yeah, shoot.’
“Has a guy called Gordon Walker ever stopped by your bar?” Sam asked.
‘Yeah, I know Gordon.’
“And?”
‘Well, he's a real good hunter. Why are you asking, sweetie?’
“We ran into him on a job and we’ll, we’re kind of working with him-“
‘Don’t do that, Sam.’ She warned.
“I thought you said he was a good hunter.” I frowned.
‘Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job you boys just let him handle it and you move on.’
Sam looked concerned, so he spoke up. “But Ellen-“
‘No, Sam- you just… listen to what I’m telling you, ok?’
”Alright, Ellen.” I nodded then said bye and cut the call. “Do we trust her information?”
“Rather her than Gordon.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, he sounded spooked.”
“We need to warn Dean.” I sighed. “Before it’s too late and he’s a copy of Gordon.” We went out, Sam putting coins in a machine and taking out two Cokes. He gave one to me, and I cracked it open and drank some out of it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I ignored it.
“Do you need my to get some food from the other one?” I asked.
“Two packets of crisps, maybe.” He nodded so I went to the other one-
Oh, god.
Noises of fighting rang out behind me, in which Sam was knocked out by two people, one holding a telephone that was used to knock him out. I pulled out my gun, aiming it at the woman who was holding it,
“Bad move.” I growled. “You never attack someone when their back is turned.” One of them bared their fangs at me, but the woman stopped him. “Take one step, I dare you.”
“She’s holding Michael Rainer’s gun.” The woman whispered to her companion. “She’s his daughter.”
“What of it?” I frowned.
“Can we trust her?” The man asked her.
“We can try.” She whispered, then spoke up. “My name’s Lenore. I knew your father.”
“Many people did.” I scoffed. “You’re just another Joe and Jane.”
“He helped us.” She smiled. “And you can too. We need your help, Ivonne. He told us you could, if you ever found us.”
I lowered my gun a little, then stiffened up. “How can I trust you?”
“‘One bullet can make one family and break another as well, so be careful where you use it.’.” She cited. “He told us a lot about you. About the scar cutting across your eyebrow and where you got it from, which was your first hunt.” She gestured to her own eyebrow, and I started to get the thought that she wasn’t lying. “How you stole his old leather jacket and love wearing beanies. How he would’ve given anything to see you more. We need your help, so please, don’t shoot.”
I took a deep breath before lowering my gun. “Fine. But I go anywhere Sam goes.”
“Ok, but you have to promise not to tell anyone where the nest is.” She begged, and I nodded.
I was waiting for Sam to wake up, when I heard a familiar voice call my name.
“Ivy?” I turned, seeing a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes who was making his way up to me. I laughed, standing up.
“Will?” I hugged him, grinning. “No way!”
“It’s so good to see you.” We stepped back, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me after we broke up.”
“It’s not the principle that you were a vampire.” I sighed. “It was the principle that I move around a lot for my work.”
He stared at me for a moment, a charged air in between us. “You like your work a lot, huh?”
“I’ve minimised vampire killings.” I smiled. “Only the evil ones.”
“That’s good.” He nodded. “I’m glad Lenore listened to my pitch.”
“I’m really proud of you, Will.” I paused, “Even if animal blood is the broccoli of your world.”
“I just wanted to protect you.”
“And I owe you my life for that. Honestly, I thought you’d have gotten over me by now.”
“You’ve probably heard this a million times, Ivy, but you’re impossible to get over.” He looked down, rumpling his hair with his hand. “I was just beginning to come to terms with our breakup and… now you’re here.”
“Should I be happy or sad about that?” I chuckled.
“I’d rather you be happy.”
“Will.” Eli came in, rounding the corner. “We need the girl.”
“I’m coming.” I walked with Eli, and the moment Sam saw me, he started struggling.
“Did you turn her?!” He growled, trying to break free.
“I’m ok, Sammy.” I assured, kneeling down in front of him. “These guys are clean, trust me. They do drink animal blood.”
“We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated.” Eli hissed.
“That’s enough, Eli.” Lenore warned.
”Yeah, Eli, that’s enough.” Sam teased.
“What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight.”
“Then why bring us here?” I asked.
“Believe me, I'd rather not. But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us.”
“So you’re asking us not to follow you.” Sam realised.
“We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone.”
“Give me one reason why I should believe you.”
“You know what I’m gonna do?” She got closer. “I’m gonna let you go.” She turned to Will, gesturing to us both. “Take them back. Not a mark on either of them.”
“We need to stop Dean.” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, we do.” I nodded.
We got back, and I leaned in the window to the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Will.”
“It’s nothing.” He smiled, leaning closer.
“Trust me, I owe you a lot for what you’ve done.” I grinned, tilting my head. Resisting drinking my blood, making the switch to animal blood, tackling members of your own family just to keep me safe, it’s a lot-“ I was silenced by his lips on mine, and I cupped his cheek, grinning stupidly when I pulled away. “I owe you for that too.“
“Pay me back later.” He smirked. “Your friend there looks like he’s gonna burst out into laughter.” I heard a snort, and I turned to Sam, who was looking up to the sky.
“Don’t mind me.” Sam giggled. “I’m just looking at this really interesting pitch black sky while you two are smooching.”
“Shut up.” I pulled a newspaper out of my satchel, thwacking Sam across the head before stuffing it back in. “You’re such a child.”
“I never knew that you were a romantic.”
“I was.” I smiled. “Will was a boyfriend.”
“Looks like the boyfriend. You met him in the nest and now you’re both kissing. Will and Ivy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“
”Scratch that, you’re a baby.” I opened the door to the motel room, and our smiles were wiped off our faces to see Gordon with Dean. I hung up my jacket, and my arm holster, which contained my gun, was left exposed.
”Where you been?” Dean asked.
“Can we talk to you alone?” Sam asked, and Dean seemed to agree.
“Mind chillin’ out for a couple minutes?” He followed us outside, and I shut the door.
“Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”
“What are you talking about? Where were you?”
”The nest.”
”You found it?”
“They found us, man.”
“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?”
“None.”
“Well, they didn’t just let you go-”
“That’s exactly what they did, Dean.” I frowned.
“All right, well, where is it?” Dean asked.
“We were blindfolded, so no, we don’t know.” I lied.
“Well, you've got to know something.”
“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”
“Why not?”
“We don't think they're like other vampires. We don't think they're killing people.” Sam urged.
“You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.” Dean asked, looking angry and confused.
”The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”
“And you believed them?”
“Look at us, Dean.” Sam gestured to him and I. “They let us go without a scratch.”
“Wait, so you're saying... no, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care.” He started walking, and we didn’t have much time to convince him. “We find 'em, we waste 'em.”
“Why?”
“What part of vampire do you not understand?” Dean growled. “If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”
“So you would kill me if I still had my powers?” I asked, silencing him for a moment. “We kill ‘evil’, Dean, not just any supernatural force. They’re not killing people, so we don’t kill them.”
“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”
“No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time.”
“Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man, he knows.”
“Gordon.“ I scoffed.
“Yes.” He nodded defiantly.
“You’re taking his word for it?” Sam asked cynically.
“That’s right.”
“Ellen says he’s bad news, Dean.” I persisted.
“You called Ellen?” Dean raised his eyebrows. We nodded. “And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. You may know her, Ivonne, but no thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”
“Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend.” Sam seethed, fists clenching. “You don't think I can see what this is?”
“What are you talking about?”
“He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one.”
“Shut up, Sam.” Dean’s teeth gritted, and I could practically feel the tension rising.
“He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.”
“You know what?” He chuckled, backing away. “I'm not even going to talk about this-“
“You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it.” Sam growled. “Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”
“Okay.” Dean nodded, then punched Sam. I didn’t think; I just felt red hot rage boil up and my hand swung round, slapping some silence into Dean. He just stared at me, holding his jaw.
“Go.” I ordered, furious. “Go to your new best friend Gordon and when you’ve realised that we’ve been telling the truth, you’re come back and say sorry. And you better beg.”
He seemed to regain his pride, gritting his teeth. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.” He left, and I turned to Sam, turning his face.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s bruising.” He nodded. “Are you okay, though? You seemed to blow up.”
“Yeah, I just thought of Carter.” I nodded. “If anyone touched him, they’d be on the floor in seconds, I don’t care who they are.”
”I didn’t wanna hurt Dean. He’s just blindsided.”
“Luckily I’m here to slap some sense into him, then.”
“But we really do need to convince him.”
“Fine.” We went back into the motel room, where Dean was gathering his stuff.
“Gordon?” Dean called, but there was no Gordon.
“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.
“Most likely.”
“Dean, we have to stop him.” I urged.
“Really, Ivonne?” He scoffed, hand moving to his cheek, which was red. Good. “Cause I say we lend a hand.”
“Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe us that.” I paused. “You owe me, Dean.”
“Real good negotiator you are, Ivonne.”
“Careful, or your cheek might turn purple instead of red.” I shot back. “Think about it, Dean.”
“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.” We looked to where the keys were supposed to be, but they were gone.
“He snaked the keys.” Sam whispered. We ran to the car, getting inside through picking the lock.
“I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too.” Dean groaned while hot-wiring his car. ”So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?”
“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.” I informed, looking at my own map.
“How do you know?”
“I counted.”
“They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.” Sam mapped out, tracing the path.
“You two are good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Dean grimaced.
We reached the house and went in, and I found both Lenore and Will tied to a chair, weak.
“Sam, Ivonne, Dean. Come on in.” Gordon grinned, holding a small bloody knife.
“Hey, Gordon. What's going on?” Dean asked, looking around.
”Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”
“Look, man-“
“Just grab a knife. I was about to start in on the fingers.” He made a cut down Lenore’s arm, and she wheezed weakly in pain. He did the same to Will, who groaned a bit louder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the pain.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?”
“I am chill.” Gordon replied coolly.
“Gordon, just put the knife down.” Sam ordered, starting forward, but was stopped by Dean.
“Looks like Sam here needs to chill.”
“Just step away from her, all right?”
“You’re right, I’m wasting my time. These two will never talk. Might as well put them out of their misery.” He pulled out a knife. “Don’t worry, I sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”
”Gordon, I'm letting her go.” Sam frowned, stepping in Gordon’s way.
“You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon seethed, pointing the knife at Sam’s chest.
“Hey, Gordon, let’s talk about this.” Dean protested feebly.
“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”
“The hell there is.” I took out my gun from my arm holster, pulling the trigger and hitting Gordon’s knife. It broke in half, the metal clattering to the ground.
Dean stepped in. “That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one...”
“Killed my sister?” Gordon cackled. “That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”
“You did what?” I seethed.
”It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you, Dean.”
“So you knew all along, then?” Sam scoffed. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”
“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” He slit Sam’s arm with the jagged knife, and Lenore’s teeth emerged, and she started to hiss and snarl. He pressed it to Sam’s throat, dragging him closer to Lenore.
“Let him go! Now!” Dean ordered, taking out his gun and aiming at Gordon.
”Relax. If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.” The blood from Sam’s cut hit Lenore’s face, making her eyes turn red. “You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.” A tear ran down Will’s face at the sight of Lenore, and my jaw clenched.
“No, no…” Lenore sobbed, regaining control of herself.
“You see that, Gordon?” I snapped, taking the knife away from him and using it to cut Lenore and Will free. He collapsed into my arms, trying to stay upright. I cupped his cheek, his forehead leaning against mine. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“We’re done here.” Sam fumed.
“Sam, Beanie, get ‘em outta here.” I helped Will outside while Sam did Lenore, taking out a cloth and cleaning both of them. I was still holding my gun, and I changed the cartridge, chucking it away.
“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” He asked.
”I have to.” I nodded. “Dean’s good, but Gordon knows more tricks.”
“Wait.” Will coughed, and then he kissed me gently. “Don’t get hurt. Please.”
“I won’t.” I assured before running inside. Dean flew through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing with a groan. I raised my gun, shooting Gordon in the shoulder, making his body fall back with the shock. His head hit the wall, and he slumped, unconscious.
“Good talk.” I smirked, training it on him.
”You came back?” Dean coughed, getting up.
”Yeah, I’m not leaving you with this sadist.” I picked Gordon up, slamming his head against a doorframe on my way to the chair that Will was previously tied up in. “Oops.” I drawled, dropping him in the chair. Dean tied him up, looking sick with himself.
”All that talk about black and white, but you’re the one who’s tied up.”
We were back at the motel, when we got out, I faced a now recovered Will with a smile.
”Thanks for saving my life.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t owe me one anymore. Kind of wanted an excuse to see you anytime.”
”I want to give you that excuse, really.”
He realised, nodding sadly, but masked it with his winning smile. “You’re leaving.”
”Sadly.” I bit my lip. “I wish we had more time.”
”Yeah, now I have to start another cycle of getting over you.” He joked, but still looked heartbroken.
“Well, I’m gonna make it harder, cause I still have to pay you back.” I grinned.
”Pay me back-“ I grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss that he melted into instantly. His arms wrapped around my waist while mine went around his neck, my head tilting. His hands threaded in my hair-
“HAUN HAUN!” I heard Dean yell. “Mademoiselle et monsieur s’embrassent ! Que puis-je dire, c’est la vie !
“Ivonne et Will, assis dans un arbre!” Sam called. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
We pulled back, laughing. I turned to the boys, kissing my teeth. “You just HAD to say it in French!”
“Yeah!” Dean grinned.
“That was the WORST French I’ve ever heard!”
“Thanks!” Sam snickered.
It was a week since the Gordon incident, and we had returned to my house. I was reading a book on my bed, engrossed in a scene from it simply because the main character was dying and I don’t see that, like, ever.
“IVONNE!” I heard from outside. “HER LADYSHIP IVONNE RAINER OF THE KINGDOM OF NEW JERSEY, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HER CHAMBER WINDOW!” I rolled my eyes, putting down my book.
”What the hell?” I muttered. “What is this person playing at-“ I swept the curtain aside, and almost broke down laughing at who was heckling at my window. “Dean?!”
”Tis I!” He yelled, gesturing dramatically to himself.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Apologising!” He called back, a goofy grin on his face. “You said I needed to beg!”
”I never meant literally!”
“Too late!”
”Dean-“
”I HEREBY PROCLAIM THAT I, SIR DEAN WHO HAILS FROM THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, WAS A DOUCHEBAG.”
”AND?!”
”AN IDIOT.”
”AND?!”
”A SPINELESS, CORRUPT, HORRIBLE PIECE OF WORK. ANYTHING ELSE?”
”No, sounds like enough slander.” I smirked, gesturing for him to continue. He then got down on one knee, making Sam, who was watching from the other window and recording everything, lose his cool, cackling loudly.
“I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY AB-ABHORRENT BLASSsss…” He turned to Sam. “How d’you say it?”
”Blasphemy.” Sam repeated.
“RIGHT, UH, BLAS-PEMY. I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY ABHORRENT BLAS-PEMY AND I IMPLORE YOU TO COME THITHER AND ACCEPT MY DEAREST APOLOGY.”
“Should I?” I asked Sam, who was losing it.
“I don’t know, this is fun.”
“If I give you a kiss, Dean, will you stop?” I sighed, and he contemplated the situation before nodding. I went downstairs, swiping something from my drawer before meeting him outside.
“Where’s my kiss, milady?” He smirked, standing up. I took his hand and placed something in it: a Hershey’s kiss. He grimaced at me while Sam almost fell out of the window in his mirth. “Ha ha, very funny.”
“Needed to have an excuse to get rid of the last one.” I laughed. “But yeah, I forgive you. Now you need to repeat the act for Sam.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder.
”SAMUEL! SIR SAMUEL WINCHESTER OF THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HIS CHAMBER WINDOW-“
PREVIOUS | NEXT
#Spotify#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#sam and dean#supernatural#spn masterlist#spn#sam winchester#ivonne rainer#dean winchester x oc#SoundCloud
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1st Class Vlogging Shenanigans
[There's a blur of motion before the camera points down to someone's lap, criss-crossed legs clad in the telling purpurine of a SOLDIER 2nd. Hushed voices and a cough are heard in the background]
"Ah, shoot. How do I get this thing to record?"
[The camera tilts before whirling around to meet a face. Zack goes from bitterly confused to grinning immediately]
"Ha! I got it!" He fist-pumped, immediately fixing his unkempt bangs in the recording. His eyes flicker from the screen to something beyond it.
"Hey guys, check it out!"
[The camera rotates violently before the shaky recording settles. Genesis, mid-yawn, immediately clamps his mouth shut, eyes widening in horror before his hands move to preen himself. Sephiroth is hunched over his desk working through a mountain of paperwork. He looks up briefly, meeting the camera with a roll of his eyes]
"What are you doing, Zackary?"
[The camera points to Angeal, rocking himself on a swivel chair adjacent to the desk. He pulls a face before his fingers curl in an unenthusiastic wave]
"I'm vlogging, duh!" Zack scoffs from behind the camera. "Say hi, Angeal!"
"Hi, Angeal," the man in question mutters, eyes moving in motion with Genesis's scoff off-frame.
[The camera pans to Genesis, who has his feet shooed off of the desk by the disgruntled Silver General]
"What for?" The redhead asks, then winks at the camera.
"I saw some people on the Silver Elite's forums wishing for a day-in-the-life of first class type video, sooo…."
[The camera rotates back to meet Zack's vibrant grin as he flexes his arm for the camera]
"I'm giving 'em one!"
[A hesitant "uhh…" from Angeal dims Zack's glow. He pans the camera to his mentor, who's looking uncomfortably at Sephiroth]
"I don't think Seph would be all too comfortable with that, puppy." He looks back at Zack over the camera. "Do you mind?"
[A pensive hum from Sephiroth himself makes the camera violently jerk towards the General. Genesis slyly tilts his body to keep himself in frame. Sephiroth puts his pen down and leans back, crossing his arms]
"I suppose I don't see a visceral problem with it."
[Genesis's quiet voice begins to fade into the background—"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess…"]
Sephiroth shrugs. "So long as you're diligent to not film anything that breaches company policies and keep to yourself, I'm fine with it."
[There's a whoop of joy from behind the camera. The video blurs as Zack bounces excitedly]
"Great! 'Cos I collected a ton of questions from the forums. I think your fans would really appreciate you answering them!"
[A snap of red-gloved fingers urges the camera to pan back to Genesis, now bearing a picture perfect smile]
"I just want to make it clear that I have no qualms about being filmed. By all means, I'm an open book."
[Zack pans to Angeal looking directly into the camera]
"No, you're a poem that won't shut up, Gen."
[The camera falls to Zack's lap, obscuring the scene. Laughter fills the room, along with Zack's choked cries and Genesis's angered screeches]
"If you don't end that video right now, I swear by the goddess I'm going to shove a Firaga right up—!"
[The camera is torn from Zack's hands, the video quickly ended by Angeal before Genesis could finish his threat]
#crisis core#crisis core headcanons#final fantasy 7#agszc#ffvii crisis core#sephiroth#zack fair#genesis rhapsodos#angeal hewley#fic#ffvii#if i end up continuing this it's gonna be pure chaos hahahHA#soldier vlog
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matthew murdock x musiciangirlfriend! headcanon:
warnings: this contains so much fluff & cuteness, but also might have bad writing if you really squint
he would definitely love watching you play instruments in his free time. you would usually sit in the love seat across from the couch in his apartment, perched with your instrument of choice, which was usually your ukulele or guitar since they were matthew’s favourite. he would lay on the couch on his side, body turned to your direction with a happy smile on his face as he heard the tunes you’d strum, along with your mumbling of lyrics.
“you sound really good, honey” “you say that every time, matty” “it’s the truth!”. you’d be a hot mess afterwards.
hearing you sing in the shower was one of matthew’s favourite things to hear. the running water mixed with your voice always sounded so relaxing. you had a habit of bringing a speaker into the bathroom when you’d shower, playing music from your carefully assorted spotify playlists & singing your heart out as you washed your hair & body. being in the shower with you was a whole other slice of heaven, hearing you sing melodies as you pressed yourself close to matthew so intimately—it gave him goosebumps every time.
you would often taste like buckley’s cough syrup, hot chocolate & honey from all the remedies you’d use to soothe your voice after a tiring gig. He didn’t mind it at all, at least the hot chocolate & honey— buckley’s was just straight up gross. so, matthew would often buy you your favourite cough drops (which happened to be berry flavoured ricola & the assorted minty pack of halls) instead since the taste of buckleys began to make his nose hurt.
he’d pepper kisses on the fingers on your left hand since they’d grow tired/stiff from holding down the strings so often & they’d get little scars/mini callouses from all the constant playing.
“matt, you don’t have to do that” “but I want to baby, you work them so much”
he’d definitely attend as many of your gigs as he could, sometimes he’d even just listen from nearby rooftops when his patrolling clashed with one of your performances. the man would be committed!!! he’d also take foggy & karen with him quite often & they’d all treat you afterwards at josie’s with a few rounds of shots.
matthew would call you his superstar & it is the CUTEST THING.
“hey, superstar” “my little superstar” BRO???!!!!!
he’d definitely shorten it down sometimes to “star”, like how logan from gilmore girls would call Rory “ace”.
“star, i love you" THAT SOUNDS SO ODD BUT CUTE.
he’d constantly get a little sad about not being able to see you shine on stage with all the lights & people around, but you’d constantly remind him that he didn’t need to see you in order to connect to you or your music… there’d be other ways.
matthew would for sure love to have a piece of your merch, even if you didn’t have your big break yet. you’d take him to a clothing printing shop & get a design you’d make of you printed on a hoodie & t-shirt for the both of you. he’d probably never take it off when he’d be home & get you to take a photo on your film camera with him in it too. he’d smile proudly & point to you on the hoodie, you writing on the back of the photo with “first merch sale, 2022” & draw a heart around matthew’s name.
he’d give you a good luck kiss before every show you’d do & have a secret handshake (why wouldn’t you???).
he’d definitely whoop & scream the loudest for you at big gigs & at the smaller ones, he’d clap the loudest & cheer with a lot of enthusiasm. you’d often smile too much on stage because of it or just look directly at him when singing, shaking your head at your #1 fan.
matthew would FOR SURE cry or at least tear up if you wrote him a song (let’s be honest, you’d write him multiple). he’d kiss you so passionately after hearing the recording from your computer or after hearing you sing it to him live from his apartment.
“you wrote a song about me?” “you’re my muse, of course, i—“ “god, i love you” *cuts you off with a kiss* (classic).
#matt murdock imagines#mcu fanfiction#celebrities#charlie cox fanfiction#mcu daredevil#charlie cox#charlie cox imagines#daredevil#matthew murdock fluff#matthew murdock angst#matthew murdock imagines#matthew murdock x reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock
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All I Want
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Word Count: 6.5k
18+, minors DNI
You’re the drummer of corroded coffin and you can't get your best friend who's in the band out of your head.
—————————————
The nervousness came first, bubbling in the pit of your stomach before washing over your entire body as the band was introduced – Corroded Coffin’s first house show. When Gareth’s parents decided it was time for them to move out of Hawkins, whisking away the former drummer down to sunny Florida, the band was left with a gaping hole that, for some reason, you were persuaded into filling.
You hadn’t played since you were younger, your parents selling the kit they had bought you for a mortgage payment that needed to be made. Without it, you simply felt lost – until you ran into Eddie Munson at the record store. A quick conversation about the vinyl you were holding, a copy of Slayer’s first album, and the next day, you were in the Hideout watching the boys practice. While all of them were good musicians, you couldn’t help that your eyes tended to focus on Eddie as he strummed his Warlock NJ, his hardened voice opening the door for your thoughts to go a place they probably shouldn’t. There was nothing like it.
As soon you sat down in front of your drum kit, sticks in hand – nothing else mattered. The nervous feeling dissipated, adrenaline beginning to course through your veins as Eddie turned towards you slightly, catching your gaze and awarding you a wink before counting you down to kick off Corroded Coffin’s part of the show.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Holy shit, that was fucking amazing!” you yelled, running out of the house and into the summer air. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire goddamn life!” The other boys whooped and hollered, high-fiving one another while Eddie couldn’t help but grin in your direction, pulling a joint from his pocket.
“There’s nothing quite like it, is there, y/n?” he asked, lighting the joint. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your own face, feeling as though you were floating.
“I mean, I thought beforehand, it would go okay and hopefully we wouldn’t get our asses booed off the stage, but holy shit, they actually wanted us to keep going.” You breathed heavily, still needing to catch your breath after all of the excitement. “For the record – I wasn’t sure if playing Paranoid was the best idea, I thought Children of the Grave all the way. You were right, Eddie.”
“Of course I was right, baby,” he shook his head at you. “I give the people what they want.”
‘Baby’ made you bite your lip softly, a satisfied sigh leaving you louder than you’d realized.
“You alright?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, inhaling the joint and passing it over to you. You nodded at him, taking the weed and sucking in a good amount – you wanted to ride this high from the show as long as you could, and you coughed, Eddie chuckling at you. He moved to sit on the grass, patting the spot next to him and you accepted the invitation, spreading out slightly and hanging your head back, looking up at the night sky littered with stars.
“I could get used to this,” you commented. Eddie hummed in response, the two of you passing the blunt back and forth in silence – reveling in the feelings that accompanied the show. You supposed you had Eddie to thank for this. Turning to face Eddie, you crossed your legs and picked at the grass. “I wanted to let you know how much this all means to me – you know, trusting me enough to take Gareth’s spot, it couldn’t have been easy for any of you. Especially, you.” You sighed. “I know that I’m probably the best you could get on such short notice and it won’t hurt my feelings when you actually put an ad out for a new drummer. I just… thank you, Eddie.” You finally looked up, met with a face full of confusion. “What?” you laughed, intrigued.
“Do you really think that low of yourself?” he wondered, not even waiting for you to reply. “You were my first and only choice for this spot, y/n. Gareth’s one of my closest friends and all, but I’m not sure he would have been able to keep the crowd’s attention going like that. And I know, a part of it has to do with me being lead and all,” you looked at him wryly, of course he couldn’t help but give himself a compliment, “but you were fucking connecting with them in there.”
Eddie reached out, taking one of your hands in his, the blunt in his other. His thumb stroked the back of your hand softly and you found comfort in the action, enjoying the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers upon your skin. “Don’t sell yourself short, yeah?”
“I won’t,” you stated quietly, surprised by what he’d said. You had no idea that he had thought so much of your abilities. You weren’t as confident as you once used to be when it came to playing music, and you weren’t sure you could ever feel that way again. However, when Eddie talked about you like this, it made you feel as though one day you could see yourself in a stadium.
Eddie didn’t release your hand, opting to keep possession, while your other continued to just feel the grass, soft and cool. The one thing on your mind was how much you wanted to kiss the man in front of you. To feel his lips on yours. You wondered what they would taste like, what they would feel like. Chapped? Eddie was always carrying chapstick around in his jeans, strawberry flavored. You wouldn’t mind. His lips would then move to your neck, feeling your pulse as it raced, eager for him to keep moving, to feel him everywhere and to feel his mouth on your –
It wasn’t until then you realized Eddie was saying your name repeatedly and you were staring at his lips, his tongue wetting the flesh. Your cheeks burned with heat and you ducked your head.
“Oh God, Eddie, I’m sorry – I zoned out for a minute and I’m really high –”
“What were you thinking?” His voice was low – you couldn’t get a read on the situation.
“Nothing, I wasn’t – “
“Tell me what it was you were thinking.” Eddie commanded. The authority in his voice sent a shiver through you.
“Promise you won’t be upset or anything?” You were still apprehensive, but a voice within you told you that telling the truth was the best thing you could do.
“I promise, y/n.”
You sighed, making eye contact with Eddie. “I was thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”
“And? Is that all?”
“Yes.” You averted your eyes, and he caught on to your lie.
“Don’t lie to me.”
You removed your hand from his grasp, moving to pick at the small space of grass between the two of you. “Fine, but don’t make fun of me either. Like I said, you can’t be upset and now you can’t laugh.” He nodded in agreement. “Okay. A thought passed through my mind of you doing more than kissing me, but it was only momentarily.”
When you met his eyes again, they were a darker shade – filled with a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You’d never seen it before. “What was I doing?”
You gulped, nervous to continue, but you were already too far in to go back now. “You were moving your lips down my neck, finding my sweet spot easily. As if you already knew.”
Eddie looked like he might respond, lips parting slightly, when a voice boomed from your left. “Guys, come on! The next set is starting.” Disappointment hit you like a train, wanting to know if there was any tiny possibility of your closest friend feeling the same way about you. But whatever moment had very there – it was gone as quick as it had arrived. Eddie stood up with his arm outstretched, hand out, to help pull you up and you grabbed it, standing upright. The four of you headed back into the house.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eddie’s words about your musical abilities ignited something within you, your confidence growing over the next few weeks; so much that even your other band mates noticed and it showed in the performances. Corroded Coffin’s schedule was getting busier as you were invited to even more house shows. It finally hit you that the band’s popularity was spreading, Corroded Coffin booking a show in a city half an hour away and considerably bigger than Hawkins . While nothing could make you happier, you couldn't shove aside the anxiety you felt towards Eddie. There had been nothing said about that night of the first show. It was as though he'd never asked you what you thought about, as if you never answered him. You sat at your drum kit, twirling the stick in your hand and bopping your head to the cassette tape playing Dead or Alive’s You Spin Me Right Round (Like a Record) as Jeff and Eddie worked through an argument about which song to play tomorrow.
“We’re playing Run to the Hills,” you heard Eddie say, and your eyes found him, as he tuned his guitar. “And I swear to god, y/n, if you play this song one more time, I’m banning you from Corroded Coffin.” You knew the threat was harmless, but you leaned over, turning the volume down to a low hum.
“Jump is better suited for this one, Eddie,” Jeff argued. “We need to play to the crowd, not just a few people who might like a band that you have a hard on for.” You winced at that, knowing that was the wrong thing to say as soon as you saw the flash of offense cross Eddie’s features. And you were right as Eddie started back with, “You think I don't know what -”
“Stop it!” you yelled, putting your drum stick down, standing up indignantly. “The both of you just shut up. Arguing isn't going to fucking do anything.” They looked at you, seemingly surprised at your outburst. You had no idea what you were even going to say, walking over to your friends slowly and thinking quickly for a resolution. “Since Dan is over 15 minutes late for practice, we’re just going to cut his cover this time around and do both Run to the Hills and Jump. Deal?”
They stared at you for another moment longer before looking at each other and nodding. “Alright, fine,” Eddie agreed, reaching out to shake Jeff’s hand. “At least you have another use today instead of replaying that song into the ground.” You put your hand over your heart, as if he said something meaningful. Eddie chuckled, shaking his head at you.
It was another five minutes before you saw Dan crossing the street, heading for the garage. The sun was layers of burnt orange, purplish sky against the horizon at this point and you stared him down as he finally made it in. You weren't the only one.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Last practice before the show and you're late,” Eddie told him. “Get here on time or I’m going to kick your ass.” Both you and Jeff made “Oooo” sounds, as if he was being sent to the principal’s office.
Daniel rolled his eyes, grabbing his bass from the stand. “Come on, let’s start playing before Eddie murders me and you're all stuck here trying to hide a body.” That was enough for Eddie as he looked at you, counting for you to come in and start the practice with Run for the Hills.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You weren’t running behind, but you couldn’t help feeling as though you needed to rush while you were getting ready – Charlotte Sometimes by The Cure playing quietly on the record player in the background. You sat on your bed, preparing to put on your Docs when there was a knock on your door. Glancing at the clock, Eddie was 15 minutes early, which you found slightly irritating. Answering the door, you put your hand on your hip as Eddie came into view. “What gives, Munson? You’re early and I’m not done. You must be really eager to see me,” you joked, turning away and heading back to your bedroom to finish getting ready for the show. Eddie didn’t immediately follow you, probably heading to the kitchen for a quick drink before you left. The band came over all of the time and knew they were welcome to anything in the kitchen, as long as they didn’t eat the entirety of it.
When he came around the corner, you saw that you were right – Coke in hand. You turned back towards the mirror, saying, “I’ll be done in a minute… I have to finish putting this liner on and then my shoes.” You saw him nod in the mirror’s reflection, sitting down on the edge of your bed and sipping on the Coke. You could feel him watching you. It didn’t make you nervous. You drew heavy lines on your top lids, taking the pencil lightly against the bottom of your eye, nearly poking yourself when he said, “I don’t know how you do that shit, honestly,” he observed.
You turned fully away from the mirror, pencil in hand, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “Want to find out?” You bit your lip, the image of Eddie wearing eyeliner making you warm.
“Oh, hell no, you’re not getting near me with that thing.”
“Come on, I promise I won’t maim you. If I do… You can have my kit and teach yourself to play something that’s actually hard.”
His eyes widened at your jab, a whistle leaving his mouth. “Fine. But hurry, we gotta get going.”
“Lay back, then,” you stated, motioning him to scoot up on the bed. He sat the drink on the table next to your bed, doing as you told him. You didn’t even think about the fact that your shoes would be on your bed, which normally would gross you out, as you got on top of Eddie, somewhat straddling him with your pencil at the ready. You were very aware of everything going on right now, including the slight arousal rushing to your core at the reality of the situation. You noticed his eyes flit towards your breasts, feeling your cheeks get warm.
“Okay, now close your eyes,” you instructed. You started with this left eye, putting the black liner to his skin. You were sure he could feel your breath on him, your nervous breathing at that. “This is quite cozy, isn’t it?” he smirked, opening the eye that you weren’t applying makeup to yet. You paused, leaning back to look indignantly at him. “Edward Munson, you really will be without an eye if you don’t keep your mouth shut while I do this.” He put his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ motion and you couldn’t help but smile, moving back to your previous position as his hands came to rest lightly on your thighs. Focus. You needed to focus on the task at hand and not become distracted by the way his fingers felt against your thigh, his fingertips moving in slow circles against the fishnets. God, it was distracting.
“Have you put makeup on anyone else before?” he wondered, keeping at the circles.
Your breath was shaky as you moved to the other eye, noticing how pretty his eyelashes were.
“Just for a friend – for a dance at school.”
“Like this?”
You chuckled. “No, not like this. It just seemed easier to do it this way this time around.” It was partially true. You leaned away from him once you were done, surveying your work. His eyelashes were longer, more luscious than you’d ever realized. He was beautiful. He opened his eyes, meeting your own. There was a long moment – his mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something exactly like the night of the first show, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever get a taste of the man in front of you.
It was you who broke the eye contact, getting up off of him and straightening your outfit. “Go look in the bathroom mirror and tell me what you think.”
“If I look like I just left bed, I want a goddamn refund,” he threatened, pointing his finger at you. You placed the eyeliner back with the rest of your makeup, fixing your hair at your desk. “I look fucking good,” he yelled, running back into your bedroom. You couldn’t argue with him – Eddie in eyeliner was something different, but entirely tempting. The arousal that was still present within you multiplied. God, you wanted him to fucking devour you, wearing that liner. You nearly moaned as your eyes raked over him one last time before you gathered your things and left, not caring if he noticed your behavior.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The crowd yelled as the emcee announced Corroded Coffin, the energy from the floor making its way to you. You weren’t nervous this time. The mixture of smells – of beer, B.O, burgers and fries, didn’t bother you. While Eddie talked to the crowd, introducing each of you, your focus was on the sixteenth notes of Run to the Hills that you were about to play. Your raised your drumstick in the air when he got to you, getting a few hoots and hollers as you looked out with a grin on your face – you were ready. You moved to hit the hi-hat double handed, – right then left, right then left, hitting the floor tom and the medium tom together, then moving back to the hi hat, Eddie coming in on the lead guitar and microphone.
"White man across the sea,
He brought us pain and misery,
He killed our tribes, he killed our creed,
He took our game for his own need
We fought him hard, we fought him well
Out on the plains we gave him hell
But many came, too much for Cree
Oh, will we ever be set free?"
The song picked up immediately, and you were glad you’d decided to take your leather jacket off before the song started.
"Riding through dust clouds and barren wastes
Galloping hard on the plains
Chasing the redskins back to their holes
Fighting them at their own game
Murder for freedom the stab in the back
Women and children are cowards, attack
Run to the hills
Run for your lives
Run to the hills
Run for your lives"
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You all decided to close out on a song that you and Eddie had written together months ago, Stars for a Lifetime. Your first time playing it live in front of a crowd and you couldn’t believe the reception it had. It wasn’t exactly metal, caught between that and rock, a mixture of both of your personalities. Hours of time together at your apartment, crumpled pieces of paper thrown at each other, long naps on the couch and plenty of takeout. They were memories you held onto. As you finished out the song with a crash of the cymbals, Eddie looked over at you with the most adoring gaze you’d ever seen – you could see the pride in his eyes and the satisfaction you felt at knowing how proud he was of you was unmatched. Heading off of side stage, you put up the standard rock n roll salute towards the crowd. You felt alive and you could tell Eddie did too as he highfived Jeff and Dan, running over to you and picking you up, spinning you around in excitement over the events of the night. “Can you believe that just fucking happened?” he asked, and you knew it was rhetorical but you answered anyway. “I know, I know. You did so amazing up there, Eddie. The crowd loved you.” You weren’t just saying it to flatter him. He knew exactly how to work them when he was up on the stage. He placed you back down and he took a deep breath. “The crowd loved us, y/n. All of the hours paid off.” You nodded, unable to wipe the smile off of your face even if you wanted to. You were close enough to him that you could see the streaks of eyeliner beginning to run down his face and you wanted to reach out, wanted to wipe away the black. You couldn’t. As you walked back towards the small room where the four of you had gotten ready, you didn’t notice the fact that Eddie couldn’t find it within him to take his eyes off of you.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day, you woke up to a loud knock at your door and cursed whoever the fuck it was that they were dragging you out of the best sleep you’d had in weeks. “I swear to god, if this isn’t important, you might find your most precious valuables thrown in a fire,” you announced, threatening whoever was at the door. You opened it, surprised to find Eddie there.
“And a good morning to you, too, y/n,” Eddie greeted, shaking his head as he pushed past a startled you.
You closed the door behind him, turning around. “Why the hell are you here? I thought we weren’t meeting up until day after tomorrow, to give us all a small break.”
“We aren’t, but I… I needed to see you?” he phrased it as a question.
“What about? Is something going on?” you quickly turned worried that something had gone wrong, that something had happened between last night and now. “Are you in trouble? Did you do something?”
Eddie licked his lips, beginning to laugh. “That’s your first thought? That I might be in trouble with the cops?”
You rolled your eyes. “I know how rebellious you are so who knows what you do when I’m not around to watch you.”
Eddie sat down on the couch, looking strained. His eyebrows were furrowed and you could see that there was something bothering him, although you couldn’t be sure what it was. You walked around the coffee table, taking a seat next to him and placing a hand on his arm.
“You can talk to me, Eds. Please tell me what’s going on.”
He sighed, standing back up again and beginning to pace. “You. You are what’s going on. You’re everywhere. You’re at band practice, you’re always hanging out, you’re –”
“Well,” you interjected, “that’s what happens when you invite someone to join a band.”
He stopped pacing, looking at you, brushing his hair out of his face. “And that mouth – you always have something to say, doesn’t matter who’s talking, and sometimes I want to just shut you up – and then yesterday, you put that goddamned eyeliner on me and you’re on top of me in those fishnets and it took every ounce of self control I have not to fuck you right then and there or we would’ve been late to the show.” He paused. “Do you see what you do to me? You drive me insane and I can’t get enough of you even when I haven’t even had any of you.”
You were sure the look you were giving him showcased absolute shock as he chuckled. “Eddie, I…” God, he was perfect even now. Even as you could see how nervous he was under the cool exterior he portrayed to the public, to you sometimes. “ I told you what I thought about so long ago, after that first show and you did nothing. Why didn’t you? Instead, you let me go on as though nothing happened and I started to believe it never actually happened, that I was crazy.”
Your eyes met, his filled with apology. “I wanted you and I wanted to tell you that, y/n. And Jeff came over and I thought what was best to forget about it. And I tried. But god, I can’t ignore it. And you drive me up a wall when you play that damn Spin Me Right Round song because what even is that song doing even playing at a practice because now you’ve got me liking some pop song that I wouldn’t have been caught dead listening to.”
You stood up, indignant. “Hey, that is a good fucking song and I won’t let you shit talk my eclectic music taste.”
He hung his head, a booming laugh escaping him. “You are something else, you know that?”
“I know.” You bit your lip hard, your next words surprising you both. “But will you please just kiss me?”
Eddie took a step toward you, no apprehension in his stance as his hands grabbed your face, lips crashing against yours with a sense of urgency. The force of it caused you to ache with want. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, tongue sweeping past your lips – you could taste the breath you shared. Your hands found his biceps, squeezing the flesh and you moaned into his mouth as your tongues tangled together. Eddie’s hands left your face as he pulled away, foreheads touching momentarily before he lifted his index finger to your mouth – you sucked on it slowly, drawing a groan out of Eddie, the sound going straight to your pussy. You wanted to hear more.
“Regret not saying anything to me until now?” you smiled, your voice filled with arrogance but also sickly sweet.
“As much as I hate to feed that growing ego of yours – yeah, I do.” You yelped surprisingly as he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist instinctually, already feeling his erection through his jeans and you moaned at the feeling of him against you, already wanting him inside you. But you knew you had to wait. You’d waited for so long already, what could a little while longer hurt?
Your mouths found each other once again, your hands in his hair now as he walked the both of you to your bedroom – Eddie had you on the unmade bed immediately and god, you’re already bucking your hips up towards him to feel something, to feel anything. He chuckles darkly, and you know that he knows how eager you are to get a piece of him.
“Slow down, baby, I’ll give you what you want soon,” he whispered against your lips and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped you. Your pussy was throbbing now and you were ravenous for him, after all this time. Eddie thrived on how desperate you were.
With one leg wrapped around him, you pull him in closer and the kiss was deep, hungry. You felt as though you barely had enough air left in your lungs but you didn’t care – Eddie’s mouth moved down to your neck, peppering light kisses against your throat before it turned to sucking and biting, the noises obscene and it felt so good, all of it continuing to grow the raging fire within you. You felt one of his hands began to dance down the side of your body, reaching your underwear and he pulled away from your neck. “Is that okay?” he asked for permission and you nearly melted right then and there.
“More than okay,” you breathed heavily. “Please keep going.”
His hand continued to move south, feeling your already soaked underwear and you couldn’t find it to care about how your body reacted to him. Eddie swore. “God, you’re so wet for me already, baby,” he said, licking his lips. Eddie teased you, rubbing two fingers along thefabric and your hips started to move, needing more, legs clamping around him.
“Please,” you whimpered, face feeling hot. “I kind of hate that I’m in the position of needing to beg, but I need you to do something before I lose my shit.”
Eddie laughed and he paused, switching into a different position where he was completely between your legs now.
“Can you do me a favor, babe?” and you nodded quickly. You would do whatever as long as it meant Eddie would be touching in mere second. “I need you,” Eddie began removing his multitude of rings from his fingers, “to keep these safe for me.” You put your hand out, collecting the jewelry and quickly putting them on the table next to you. If there was a next time, you wanted him to fuck you with the rings on.
“Now get a move on, Munson or –” you gasped deeply as you felt his fingers trace along your slit, one finger delving into your folds painstakingly slow and you nearly screamed at the contact. Your hands grasped at the bed sheets, Eddie pushing his finger deeper into you.
He watched your features contort as the pleasure started making its way through your body. It was then you watched as he removed his finger from your pussy, placing it in his mouth and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head. Fuck, that was hot.
“How do I taste?” you chuckled weakly.
“So fucking good,” he replied, voice deep with arousal. His hands pushed your legs apart even further as he moved to press light kisses to your thighs. He was teasing you and you were sure he was getting off on it, marking you with his teeth and sucking large purple brusies onto your tender flesh.
“Get on with it,” you pleaded, hoping your intrusion didn’t get you in any sort of trouble.
His mouth was somewhat pressed against the skin as he replied, muffled. “But I love hearing your voice when you beg for me, it’s hot.”
“We’ll have plenty of time in the future for you to get more out of me,” you sighed, wetting your lips with your tongue. It was then that two hands made quick work of completely removing your underwear, your pussy hitting the cold air and you shivered slightly.
“You’re beautiful like this, on display for me,” he said, voice thick as he kept his eyes on your core. “Hand me a pillow.” Not even looking anywhere but down at Eddie, your hand reached for one and presented it to him, prompting him to ask you to lift your hips up to place the pillow underneath.
You weren’t sure you understood, but it made you more comfortable which you didn’t mind at all.
Eddie looked up at you through his lashes, eyes dark, as two of his fingers delved back inside you and you threw your head back, a moan passing through your lips. You stopped yourself from moving your hips as his fingers started pounding you, his other hands atop your abdomen, pressing down. You couldn’t contain your noises once his mouth was on you, licking from his fingers to the top of pussy, mouth closing around your clit and you swear nothing could ever feel like this, nothing ever had.
“R-right there,” you choked out, having to remind yourself to breath as his fingers found the perfect spot to hit inside you and with his mouth on you, it was all so much. “Eddie, please, it feels so good.”
He groaned against you and the vibrations caused you to spasm slightly, your body not your own anymore. The pace of his fingers picked up, and you were nearly crying now, a tear slowly rolling down your pleasured face.
“Come on, baby, give me what you’ve got,” Eddie demanded, lips finding your clit once again and nothing ever felt like this. No one had made you feel this bliss, this ecstasy – not even yourself. Sure, you knew the right moves to get you across the finish life, but fuck, this was something different.
“Eddie, I’m so close,” you gasped.
“I know, sweet girl, come for me,” he said, his assault on your pussy quickening and becoming stronger. Another press on your abdomen and you were unraveling for him, giving him what he had been chasing. You couldn’t control your moans, your cries – you were floating, seeing stars. You heard Eddie’s voice and it slowly brought you back to reality, eyes focusing on the handsome face in front of you.
“Hi,” you whispered.
He smiled at you. “Hi. You alright?”
You nodded, feeling more like yourself now and the care he was showing you now was unfamiliar to you – no one had ever treated you like this. For some reason, this caused a whole new wave of arousal to crash into you. You were still hungry for Eddie.
“Need you inside me now,” you said, reaching for him and pulling him into another deep kiss. You could taste the remnants of your orgasm on his lips but it didn’t bother you – you just wanted him as close as possible. Eddie lifted your shirt off you first before removing his own clothes and you caught yourself staring at it all and while you would’ve been embarrassed a week ago for him to see you look at him hungrily – he’d just eaten you out. There was nothing to hide from.
“You’re prettier than me,” you pouted and he laughed, crawling back onto the bed and on top of you, your hands moving to weave into his long hair but he stopped you, gripping your wrists above your head and you whimpered.
“This is a bit different from yesterday, isn’t it?” he asked, his cockiness making you bite your lip. Why did he get to be in charge this entire time, have you underneath him?
You broke free from his grasp, rolling the both of you so you were on top of him.
“Maybe you should be more aware of who you’re up against,” you smirked, placing a hand upon his chest while your other hand found his cock, lining yourself up and slowly sinking onto him. You both moaned loudly at the same time and it was a melody – Eddie’s cock stretched you out as your pussy grew accustomed to the intrusion. “Fucking shit,” he rasped, and you started moving your hips, the hand that was on his chest, now lightly wrapped around his throat as you found your rhythm. “So much better than all of the times I imagined –” he groaned, trying to continue, “all the times I imagined you on my dick.” If it was possible, his admission of thinking of you like this before made you even wetter.
“Y-You’re not the only o-one, fuck this feels amazing” you breathed out, your work and pleasure taking most of your breath out of you. You slowed down the gyration of your hips so you would be able to speak clearly. “Before I went to sleep last night, I thought of you fucking me while wearing the eyeliner and shit, it was the strongest orgasm I’d had before now.”
Your words seemed to have turned a switch on in Eddie as he quickly moved your arm out of the way, hands gripping your hips roughly as he started pounding into you and you were unable to say anything more – only moans mixed with cries of “Eddie” leaving your mouth.
“Say my name again,” he ordered you and you complied, his name almost like a prayer to you now, asking for him to give you everything and anything.
“Fuck, I’m close again, I can’t,” you struggled for breath. His pace was carnal and brutal and he was fucking you like a doll at this point, you were letting him do whatever he wanted to you. Your hands moved to grab at your breasts, squeezing your nipples and he watched.
“You can come, pretty girl, come for me a second time,” he encouraged and Eddie calling you a pretty girl was all you needed as your walls squeezed him, your orgasm rolling over you, Eddie spilling into you only seconds later with a growl as you milked every last drop from his cock. You fell straight onto his chest, absolutely exhausted and still breathing heavily. “Still okay?” he asked and you nodded, kissing his collarbone. “Gotta get cleaned up,” he said, slipping out of you and you winced at the emptiness as you moved off of him, Eddie standing up. “I’ll be right back.”
You watched him throw on his jeans, walk out of the bedroom and it was then that the gravity of the situation hit you.
The band. Your friendship. Could your friendship survive this if something went wrong? Would Jeff and Dan be able to handle a relationship that was in the midst of their band? Would Eddie even be worried about any of that?
You stood up, heading over to your drawers and locating a new pair of underwear but throwing on the same shirt you had on before. When he came back, you were sitting cross legged on the bed facing him. It was reminiscent of the night after the first show. Eddie sat across from you, putting a finger under you chin so you would look up at him.
“Don’t go getting weird on me now, babe. That was some of my best work.”
Eddie’s goal was achieved as you chuckled, smiling at him. You pulled at your fingers – a nervous tic that he knew about you all too well. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?” he wondered.
You took a moment to respond, hoping to get your point across. “I don’t want to ruin anything between the band or us. You’re my best friend and my bandmate – both that matter to me very much. We work together well when it comes to the band, especially when writing music together. I mean, Stars for a Lifetime is a fucking masterpiece. And I don’t want to lose that because we decided to tear one off this morning.”
You hated that this was even an issue. It had all happened so quickly, but there wasn’t a trace of regret in your features as you looked at him. It was the complete opposite.
Eddie lifted a finger to his lips, in thought, and you raised your eyebrows at him after a few seconds indicating that you very much needed a response.
He sighed. “I care about you – more than anyone else, yeah? Those nights writing were some of the best I’ve ever had and we created something I don’t think I could with anyone else. Me coming over here wasn’t to get you in bed, although it was a nice addition, don’t get me wrong.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “We won’t mess up the band. Jeff and Dan won’t give a shit unless we no longer know how to play our instruments. Trust me on that.”
There was a lengthy pause before he spoke again. “If I’m going to be over here more than usual, does that mean I’ll have to hear that Dead or Alive song all the time?”
You nodded, a grin working its way onto your face. “And you don’t get to complain about it or I’ll kick you out on your ass.”
“Like I said earlier, I’m starting to like it.”
You shook your head, telling Eddie you were going to grab some juice when he called your name as you were at the bedroom door. You turned around.
“And don’t think I forgot about the eyeliner scenario you mentioned.”
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Chapter Seven: Hell is Forever
“Okay, so, Charlie and Quasi are dealing with something very important, so while they’re gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents the hotels vision and what we're doing here. So, we need a camera…Alastor?” Vaggie said glaring at the radio demon. Alastor snapped his finger conjuring up a camera for Vaggie; however, the camera was an old fashioned folding-camera from the 1930s.
“A video camera?” Vaggie said annoyed. “Hmmm.” Alastor snaps his finger and conjures
up a video camera that's poorly made with pieces of tape keeping it together. “Alright! Let's do this!”
Vaggie switched on the camera pointing it towards the bar as she hit record. Husk sat behind the counter reading a script in his claws with Angel Dust at the opposite counter. “And…Action!”
Husk carefully read the lines on his script, bringing the script closer to his face. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Can I help with anything?" He read
Angel hopped up on the bar top. "I've been a bad boy, and I need a big, strong daddy to put me in my place…on the path to redemption!" Husk groaned with annoyed and read the script again. "Well, you come— Oh, yes!" Angel Dust fake moaned.
Board Husk finished his line. - "to the right place."
Vaggie stopped recording. Annoyed. “Cut! Okay, Angel, I need you to be less horny if possible, and Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face.”
“I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit!” Husk said annoyed. “Well, we could improv this shit, baby cakes.” Angel said getting closer to Husk's face.
“Rrawwr.” Said Angel purring seductively. Husk irritated shoves Angel off of the counter hard. “Whoops.”
”Husk, come on.” Vaggie said annoyed.
Meanwhile back in the heaven embassy both quasi and Charlie sat listening to the Angel leader talk… and boy did he talk. “So, I was playin' this gig, and for some fuckin' reason, this virtue chick was diggin' on the drummer, and it's like, "do you know who I am? I'm fuckin' Adam. I'm the original dick! All dicks descend from me. You think you want drummer dick?”
“ No way! I'm the Dick-fuckin' master!” The angel paused eating more of his ribs “So, anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?”
“Wait, your name is Adam? Like the first man Adam, that means you…Oh….That explains so much.” Charlie said cringing. “Yeah I’ll say quasi muttered quiet enough so that Adam wouldn’t hear him. He hadn’t expected “The” Adam to be an angel much less a disgusting person.
It was no wonder his stepmother Lilith left him. He was condescending, vulgar and just plain annoying. And yet it made sense. “Perhaps angels aren’t what I thought they were after all.”
“I know. I Know. I fucking rock. “
Adam said.
Charlie brushed off the awkwardness from Adam and gets to subject at hand.
“Well, Adam, sir. Mr. Adam, sir.
“Call me, Dickmaster.”
“How about no.” Quasi coughed. Adam glanced in his direction quasi sat in the corner tapping his feet whistling as if he’d never spoken the entire time in this meeting. Charlie looked at her brother pleading for him to be patient. “You seem like a smart …well, stand up guy.”
“Uh-huh.” Adam said picking at his teeth. “And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a big thinker, a revolutionary. A— A genius!” Charlie said clearly stroking Adam’s ego in order to get through to him.
“I mean, your words, babe.”
“Who would really love to put his name on something.”
“Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!”
“It's a solution to our biggest problem!” Charlie said.
“Oh, Herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.” Charlie sighed. “No!”
“Our... other biggest problem.” Charlie said. “Oh…uh..ugly people?”
“Uh hello? I’m right here.” Quasi said annoyed as Adam Ranted on.
“Math? Global Warming? Nah, wait, that's Earth's problem Ummm”...Charlie and quasi exchanged glances realizing that this might be a long meeting.
Back at the hotel Vaggie was still trying to get everyone to focus on their scenes for the new commercial. However not everyone was paying attention or cared. “Stab! Stab! Stab!”
Nifty shouted gleefully as she tried to kill a roach with a sewing needle. However before she could land the killing blow Vaggi interrupted her. “Alright Niffty, Niffty. Niffty! Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms", okay?”
“Got it. I'm ready.” Nifty said smiling a sharp toothed smile.
Vaggie turned the camera to Niffty. “Action!”
However instead of saying her line, Niffty freezes and stares blankly into the camera without blinking. Vaggie turns of the camera looking puzzled. Angel peers in backing away clearly creeped out.
“Uhh, cut.” Vaggie says.
Whatever trance Nifty had been in seemed to disappear as she snaps out of it back to her cheerful self. “How was that?” Nifty said giggling. “Well, Niffty you actually have to say the line, so let's roll again.”
“Ok!”
“Action!”
However the same thing happens again and Niffty freezes, leaving Vaggie irritated.
“You're doing great, Vagina.” Angel said mocking her.
“Cut! Alright, uhh maybe we can try to fix it in post.” Vaggie said frustrated. “Do you even know what that means?”
“I'll figure it out!” Vaggie snapped as she stormed off.
Vaggie groaned aggravated as she looked through the footage. This shit was terrible! There was no way she could salvage any of this before Charlie got home. She was beginning to think it was all hopeless. “Seems like you're having a bit of a trouble there, hmm?”
Alastor said appearing out of thin air. “Ugh, este pendejo ( Spanish for this asshole)... Why are you even here?” Vaggie cursed. Alastor took a seat on the couch across from her.
“Why for the entertainment.”
Alastor’s shadow appeared behind him on the wall laughing at vaggi. “I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly, like you are doing now. Good job!” Vaggie stood up. She was getting tired of Alastor’s crap. She turns her camera toward him.
“-And here is Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that”— however as Vaggie panned the camera up to Alastor's face, the video camera glitched violently from green to red causing Vaggie to freak out and drop the camera on the floor.
“I wouldn't try that, my dear.”Alastor Said pointing at his face. “This face was made for radio.”
Alastor said menacingly as his pupils turned into the shape of radio dials, and the world around them seemed to warp before returning to normal.
That’s it! She’d had it with Alastor's insults.
“That's it. I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you're going to make this work, because it won't be so "entertaining” to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?” Vaggie swore as she returned to her chair.
“Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.” Vaggie scoffed. “Pfft, you think I'm that stupid making a deal with a demon like you?” Alistor laughed.
“Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.” Vaggie had second thoughts about letting Alastor do the work for her… but what choice did she have.
“Or…Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing. Your choice.”
Vaggie glances away for a brief moment before making her decision. “Fine.”
Vaggie picks up the camera and gives it to Alastor, which he evaporates it with a clap of his hand.
“Now then!” Alastor snaps his finger and transforms the hotel into a film set and the hotel staff into a 50s style film crew. Ink demons are conjured up as additional background characters.
“Alright everyone, let's make a fucking commercial.”
-“When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check but you're like, Hey, I thought you wanted equality." Adam says in a high pitched voice. “NO! our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!” Charlie shouted exhausted.
Adam frowned then laughed. “Ohh, well that's not a problem! We got that covered!” Adam said turning to the angel in black and white armor. “Lute, how many demons did you kill this year?”
“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”
“275? Woah! Badass! Awesome job, danger tits! Pound it.”
Quasi glared at Adam eyes glowing red. “Wow this guy is a sexist piece of trash how’d this guy even get into heaven.” Quasi thought to himself. “Can I please beat him up now. He’s starting to get on my nerves, the prince said annoyed.”
“Keep it together.” Charlie whispered. Quasi huffed. “Fine.” Charlie turned her attention to Adam and Lute.
“Uh no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that right?” Adam frowned. “Oh yeah… that must suck for you!” Adam said bursting into laughter.
Quasi glared at furiously nails turning into sharp black claws as they tore into the metal table with ease. “But these are souls...Humans souls just the same as the ones you have up in heaven.” Charlie pleaded.“They're not the same.” Lute said rather coldly.
“They had their chance and they earned damnation.”
Charlie shook her head. “You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”
“Angels don't make mistakes.” Lute said glaring at her. Quasi stepped in front of his sister.
“You really think that.” Lute glared at him.
“I know that. Lute said. “Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life.” Adam said. “I doubt that.”
Quasi said laughing.
“The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?” Quasi glared at her. “Except I’m not hell born I’m an Angel.” He said unfurling his wings.
“I know what you are, Halfbreed that doesn’t change the what you are. You’re abomination, a bastard! You’re nothing more than a mistake! And your father… he’s no longer one of us.”Quasi growled. Fallen or not my father will always be a better angel than any of you!”
Adam yawned board by the scene and just wanting to get the meeting over with. “Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it.” Quasi was about to loose his temper and yell at Adam that they were done but Charlie disrupted the awkward tension.
“Oh fuck!” Charlie summoned a stack of papers. “Oh no.” Quasi thought with dread. “Charlie don’t. Please don’t.” He prayed silently however his wishes went unheard.
“Okay I've got a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't hearing me before so here it goes.”
Charlie: ♫ I know Hell’s population is out of control. ♫
♫ It's a bad situation. ♫
♫ It's taking a toll. ♫
♫ If we rehab these sinners . ♫
A
♫ And cleanse all their souls. ♫
♫ At my Hazbin Hotel—♫
[Charlie sang as she shifted through the stacks of paper to get something.
Charlie: “Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself!”
♫ Right! Extermination ! ♫
♫ I know you guys fly down. ♫
♫ Just to kill once a year. ♫
“Charlie”
♫ And it must be annoying. ♫
♫ To schlep all the way here. ♫
♫ If they join you in Heaven. ♫
♫ That trip disappears! ♫
♫ You can wave that chore farewell. ♫ Charlie sang taking a deep breath as she held up a drawing of angels and demons holding hands.
♫ It'll be a happy day in— Let me stop you right there. ♫ Adam sang. Charlie: Oh—Okay.
Adam: ♫ Save us all precious time. ♫
Adam: ♫ If what you're suggesting. ♫
♫ Is letting them climb. ♫
♫ Up the ladder. ♫
♫ Oh, they'd rather cross the Pearly Gate? ♫
Charlie: “Well, uh—♫ Sorry, sweetie. But there's no defyin' their fates! ♫
♫ 'Cause Hell is forever. ♫
♫ Whether you like it or not. ♫
♫ Had their chance to behave better. ♫
♫ Now they boil in the pot. ♫
♫ 'Cause the rules are black and white. ♫
♫ There's no use in tryin' to fight it. ♫
♫ They're burnin' for their lives. ♫
♫ Until we kill 'em again! ♫
Charlie: Okay, but—
Adam: ♫ Just try to chillax, babe. ♫
♫ You're wasting your breath. ♫
Charlie: Hehe...
Adam: ♫ Did I hear you imply. ♫
♫ That they don't deserve death?
♫ Are they Winners? ♫
♫ Are they Sinners? ♫
♫ 'Cause it's cut and dry. ♫
Charlie: “Well, actually, if you take a look—♫ Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! ♫ Adam said flying up to the ceiling.
♫ And when all's said and done (Said and done) ♫
♫ There's the question of fun (Fun) ♫
♫ And for those of us with Divine Ordainment. ♫ “please tell me he’s not going to say what I think he’s going to say?”
♫ Extermination is entertainment! ♫
“And… he said it.” Quasi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This guy didn’t care about anyone but himself. He enjoyed the suffering of others. Not all sinners were bad… Angel was nice to him… sometimes.
♫ Bow-now-now-nownow ♫
♫ Guitar solo, fuck yeah! ♫ Adam sang. “And now he’s playing air guitar course he is god this guys annoying.”
Adam finished his guitar solo as he started to sing again.
♫ Hell is forever. ♫
♫ Whether you like it or not. ♫
♫ Had their chance to behave better. ♫
[Four golden mirages of Exorcists appeared from the walls surrounding him and Charlie from all sides.
Charlie: “Where the hell did you people come from?!” Charlie shouted. Quasi jumped in front of her knocking the golden Angels back with a sweep of his wings.
♫ -Now they boil in the pot. ♫
♫ 'Cause the rules are black and white. ♫
♫ There's no use in tryin' to fight it. ♫
♫ They're burnin' for their lives. ♫
♫ Until we kill 'em again! ♫ Adam sang summoning an actual guitar this time.
♫ Fuckin' Hell's forever. ♫
♫ And it's meant to suck a lot. ♫
♫ So give up your dumb endeavor. ♫
♫ 'Cause you don't have a shot♫
Quasi growled barring sharp pointed teeth, wings spread blood red eyes filled with hatred. However he wasn’t the only one who got angry. Charlie transformed into her demonic form as well glaring at Adam.
♫ Long as I've got your attention.♫
♫ I guess I should probably mention. ♫
♫ That we made the determination. ♫ Adam said holding up a gold scroll in front of Quasi’s face that read “Fuck you I do what a want.”
♫ To move up the next Extermination! ♫ “w-what but you can’t- What?!” Charlie said shocked.
♫ Can't wait a whole year. ♫
♫ To slaughter those little cunts.♫
♫ I know it's just been a week. ♫
♫ But we'll be back in six months! ♫
Despite being a hologram, Adam grabs Charlie and Quasi’s wrist and throws them right out of the door. “Um, wait, you-you… Adam slams the door in her face. -Ugh, SHIT!”
Charlie rested her head against the door tears in her eyes. “Don’t worry sis I’ll take it from here. I’m going to have a little talk with Adam.” He growled as he pushed the door open and shut it behind him.
“What the fuck!” Adam said startled when the door flew open. “Listen here you pompous ass my sisters worked really hard on this and I’m not about to let someone like you destroy everything she’s worked for.”
“Oh really what are you going to do about it… freak.” Quasi glared at him. “You forget who you’re talking to… I’m the prince of hell.” Adam scoffed. “Oh please, no one in hell actually takes your family seriously.”
“They might not now… but they will… when I stop you.” Adam laughed. “Heh, sure you will. Tell me… do you really want a war with heaven?” Quasi hesitated.
“He’s right. Your people will just suffer more if you try to fight back. Do you really want to put your people through that?” Lute said. “N-no I… Quasi felt suddenly felt small and helpless like when he was a child. The angels eyes felt like daggers.
“Give up. It’s better this way- No!” Quasi shouted shoving the exorcist angel away. “I’m not going to give up on my people I’ll show you you’re wrong!” Quasi stormed out of the room.
Charlie looked up at him shocked and confused. “Come on Charlie… let’s go home.” As They walked back in Silence to the hotel quasi thought about his conversation with Adam. What had he been thinking challenging a powerful angel like Adam. “You didn’t challenge him. You just… lost your fucking temper.” A small voice said In the back of his mind.
Technically this was the first time he’d ever sworn today considering how he’d yelled at that flasher demon or how he’d talked to Adam. He never would have cursed back home. He’d only been here two days and it already felt like hell was changing him. His powers seemed far more demonic than angelic…”I guess that’s what happens when your father’s a fallen angel and the king of hell.” Said the small voice again.
“When angel falls to hell their power changes your a nephilim, half angel half human. Your father is fallen and your fallen and there's nothing you can do to change that.” The voice almost sounded like… like “him.” Quasi shuddered. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Quasi sighed. “I hope I know what I’m doing.” ******************************************
When They got back to the hotel Vaggie was waiting for them. “How did it go, did they listen?” Charlie smiled nervously. “Oh, they sure did… hear it But-Oh come here, we have something exciting to show you.” Vaggie said pulling them both over to the couch.
“Alastor pulled some strings and it's about to air.” Vaggie said excitedly. “I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!” Alastor laughed. “Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?”
Quasi smiled happy for his sister. “Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself.” Angle bragged. Charlie smiled tears in her eyes. “That's... that's amazing.”
“Sshh, it's starting.” Angel said excited. Vaggie stood in the center of the group in a dress while Alastor hid in the corner of the screen. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel… suddenly the tv cuts to the news. Everyone except Alastor and Niffty get annoyed and complain. “Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before.” The news woman said. “Do you know what that means, Tom?” “No, what does that mean, Katie?” “It means we're all royally fucked!” She says her eye twitching. The screen switches showing the clock as the time on the Clock Tower reduces to 176 days till the next Extermination. “Wait, what? Why?!” Angel says confused. “Shit… this is bad.” Quasi thinks to himself. Far away from the hotel a drone scours the area until it finds a dead Exorcist corpse with its head missing. The drone scans the corpse. Sending images back to Adam and Lute at the heaven embassy. “We found the body, sir. They've never managed to kill one of us before.” “We should just go down there now and destroy them!” Lute snapped. “No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But, don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this again!”
#quasimodo#the-hunchback-of-notre-dame#charlie morningstar#vaggie hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#angel dust#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin hotel husk#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#Magic#heaven and hell#demons and angels#serious topics such as sa and abuse#ptsd#redemption#explict language#lgbtq#gay character#friends to lovers#gay romance#polyamarous relationship#fear of intimacy#fluff and angst#hurt/comfort
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The Rainbow connection chapter 6 . Wrap me up in chains.
part of the @steddiebang
“Why is it on me?” Dustin questioned as he potted his second to last ball. “Why not platinum-selling records one and two? ” He nodded towards Eddie and then Steve. Steve couldn’t deny him that. The kid wasn’t exactly rolling in the big bucks just yet.
“Oh they get the next one, you however owe me.” Erica was never one to back down, especially when Dustin was involved. Pointedly inspected her nails.
“What for now?”
“Nothing in particular. But you’re always better off being in my debt.”
“She got you there, Henderson.” Eddie rounded the pool table and took Steve’s cue straight out of his hand. In one swift move, he turned and potted the last of Steve’s stripes. He reached out a hand for Dustin to shake, but Steve could see the fifty-dollar bill that Eddie had tucked in his palm. “Loser buys the drinks. Nothing alcoholic for Applejack though, not until her birthday next week.”
Erica fixed him with a vicious stare, but she didn’t argue. Eddie might have his vices but he also had to think about what would happen if he was found supplying alcohol to an underage girl in a bar. Didn’t matter that Erica was more responsible than anyone else in the room at any given time. Behind closed doors, they would smoke weed and burp the alphabet. But in public, it was non-negotiable.
“Steve, help me grab these will you?” Dustin nodded to the bar as Eddie and Max set up the pool table again. “Do you guys want anything else while I'm up?”
Max’s face lit up.
“Wings, and the cheese nachos, extra jalapenos, Lucas is away so it doesn’t matter if I smell bad.”
“And that’s true love right there.” Eddie high-fived her across the table. “You-" He turned an accusatory finger in Steve’s direction. "-eat jalapenos then burp in my face like a monster.”
“And you eat things out of the trash because you're a trash gremlin. Don’t be taking the moral high ground here, Munson.” He gnashed his teeth towards Eddie's outstretched digit.
“You should keep your pet Barbie doll on a leash.” Max grinned like a maniac. “He gets feisty when he’s had a drink. Wayne was right, money can’t hold its liquor.”
“I see you have studied the Munson Doctrine, that’s my girl.” Eddie messed up Max’s hair and she elbowed him in retaliation.
“I didn't learn shit from you. This is all Wayne. You go off and play at being a guitar nerd and I get my feet under the table. Between Wayne's mac and cheese and Claudia's pot roast, I eat like royalty. I'm undoubtedly the best Munson son. You two numbskulls pail in comparison."
“And I let you use my family name like this, no respect. None whatsoever.” Eddie nudged her out of the way, pulling off his cap and letting his hair fall around his face as he grabbed the cue and leaned over the pool table.
As he took his first shot his shirt rode up and exposed the top of his cheque boxers and the worst of the scars on his side. Eddie wiggled his hips to the music coming over the speakers, and Max and Erica whooped as Eddie potted three balls of the break before practically crawling on the table to do a trick shot, his ass inches away from Steve’s face.
To his right, Dustin fake coughed and Steve dragged his eyes away from the sight in front of him.
"Oh fuck off," Steve sighed as he followed Dustin towards the bar.
Yeah, maybe crush wasn't the word he should be using at nearly thirty, but it summed it up surprisingly well.
Read chapter 6 on ao3 Here
#steddie#stranger things#steddiebang23#eddie/steve#steddie fic#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie big bang#the rainbow connection
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Kung Fu went for my throat this ep.
I've only recently started posting commentary on the series--until recently I tweeted about it. So I want to say here that every ep of Kung Fu successfully balances a large cast of characters, multiple arcs (some that intersect, and some don't), and has a lot of rich fodder for discussion.
A couple of thoughts about 3.06:
Mei-Li refusing to give up Sebastian and willing to risk Harmony Dumplings for Sebastian, and Sebastian refusing to let Mei-Li put Harmony Dumplings on the line for his sake so he QUITS. Not only is Sebastian the love of Ryan's life, so he's kinda like Mei-Li's son-in-law, he's become family because Mei-Li and Sebastian's friendship and partnership and the deep respect they have for each other and both of them willing to sacrifice for the sake of the other. And then Mei-Li finding Sebastian's chef whites on her desk and SEBASTIAN SOBBING IN RYAN'S ARMS.
Having thoughts on what Harmony Dumplings represents. It's not just a restaurant. It's Mei-Li and Jin's heart, it's provided for their family, the family gathers there often for dinners, and after Jin stepped back from the restaurant, it's Mei-Li's and she is sharing it with Sebastian. Ryan pulled Sebastian into the Shen family circle initially, but the reason Ryan met Sebastian was Mei-Li placed Sebastian into its tangible, physical heartspace, Harmony Dumpings, when she first hired him as chef.
Jin running for office!!!! Heheheh. I suspect that's where this arc was going for him. GO JIN!! VOTE JIN!!!
Henry scared to lose Nicky if he's not strong enough as the compass to pull her back from the afterlife place, Nicky telling Henry the trust between them is still strong and she trusts him with her life. Then Henry trying to be intellectual about it all and Pei-Ling having to tell him he's not going to be able to pull Nicky back from the that afterlife space unless he leads with his heart and his feelings still being in love with her and it works. Just something about couples who are broken up but still have such a strong bond and after breaking up, trusting each other heading into messing with dangerous magic and crossing into other dimensions and one of them scared to lose the other one in Purg-- I mean some kind of afterlife space. *coughing fit*
Zhilan and Nicky reunited and being co-warriors in the afterlife!! Just something about duos who fight monsters together in Purg-- I mean some kind of afterlife space. *coughing fit* *gasp* *reaches for water*
Zhilan and Pei-Ling reunited!!!!!!! This ep is giving me eleven nervous breakdowns. Hey I'm sure they can work things out despite Zhilan having murdered Pei-Ling.
Okay so when I said "there's nothing wrong with Bo except he's not Henry" WHOOPS. But I think Bo does really care about Nicky and he's not evil but he made some bad decisions or whatever got him into that situation and he's lying and that's not good. He's into something not good. But...it's going to be complicated.
And thing is this series works so much with gray area villains, and with good guys who make bad choices and lie. Right in the episode, we find out Dennis has been lying to Althea about the sitch with his family. Mei-Ling lied to a corporation about Sebastian's record. Zhilan killed two people she loved, and look at the development she's gone through since.
There are some outright villains who won't budge on the series, then there's a scale for everyone else. One of Kung Fu's themes is you don't stop trying to do better, to become a better version of yourself.
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Don’t Let Me Get Me
AO3
At long last Sasha Waybright, ex-child star, has complete control of her brand and free to do what she really wants, becoming a rock star.
To bad the media, her mother, and every record company in existence thinks she's insane and investing in her economic suicide.
She'll just have to pull off her first album herself or die trying.
---
Sasha throws open the doors of the green room, hurries past a group of interns munching on stale donuts and old coffee, and rushes to the door that had the glowing On Air sign above it.
“There you are!” cries a woman in shoulder pads and too much makeup, the brains and brawn behind the incredibly popular, if not bland, morning talk show, Morning with Melody.
“We go live in two!” the show director hisses clutching her clipboard with two-inch acrylic nails.
“So, talk about your sponsors some more,” Sasha says tugging down her scarf so a lady could apply makeup to her face. “There was ice, no one here knows how to drive.”
The show director mutters something about how Mrs. Waybright was always punctual but barks orders into her headset giving Sasha time to pull off her scarf, gloves, and puffer coat. Out on the stage, Melody prattles on about their sponsor, a water filter that extends your lifespan.
After the appropriate amount of product placement and intro music Melody gestures to stage right and says, “Please welcome our special guest, Sasha Waybright, better known for her role as Skye on Staying Popular!”
This is followed by a round of applause from the live audience as Sasha strides on stage.
Sasha shakes hands with Melody, a generic white lady in her early 30s who already had a bit of unnatural stiffness in the corner of her eyes due to Botox, a huge genuine smile on her own face.
“Oh, your hat,” Melody says gesturing to her own head.
“Whoops, right, thanks,” Sasha says leaning into the fake causal small talk viewers seemed to love, “the weather made me late. You know how it is.”
“I know, all snow and ice ugh.”
“Terrifying,” Sasha says.
“Dreadful,” Melody agrees.
Sasha pulls her beanie off revealing a very much not girl-next-door pixie cut dyed a bright hot pink and half a dozen new ear piercings. Melody simply stares at her for half a second. Someone in the audience coughs.
Cutting and dying your hair doesn’t quite have the same shock value it did twenty years ago but being Gisney’s live action golden child of ten years with no public meltdowns, no drugs scandals, and no international fiascos every little bit of rebellion stood out in stark contrast.
“I see you’ve cut your hair,” Melody ventures.
“Oh, yes!” Sasha says as if she had just remembered what her own head looked like, “It was just so much work styling it every day. Such a pain. I love my new style! Don’t you?”
“It’s very bold,” Melody says noncommittally before taking back control of the interview. “Now you said you had a big announcement regarding the direction you plan on taking your career! We’ve hardly seen you after the final season of Staying Popular. Your fans are dying to know when Skye will be back on screen.”
The audience cheers, some of them wave signs that read Bring Back Skye.
“Aww,” Sasha cooes at the audience, “Thank you guys so much for your support. Staying Popular would have never made it past day one if it wasn't for all of you.”
Another round of cheers mixed in with screams. Damn, Sasha was going to miss the raw support if nothing else from show biz. Melody waits for the crowd to quiet down before continuing.
“Rumors have been circulating about your mother lining you up to move onto Hollywood. If only we all could be that lucky. While others say you’ve been pushing for your music career. That’s got to be stressful, has that played into your hiatus at all?”
“Well Melody, I’ve got to be honest. You see the reason I’ve been out of the limelight is because I’ve been working out the legal details with my ex-manager.”
“You mean your mother, Kristina Waybright?” Melody asks, leaning forward, smelling blood in the water.
“Yes,” Sasha puts a hand on her chest, “I greatly appreciate everything she’s done for me over these past ten years, but I need to spread my wings and fly, sing my own song, you know?” While she talked Sasha casually unzips her jacket. “I’m sorry to say that the chapter of my life that involved Skye and Staying Popular is over.”
There was a round of sympathetic and disappointed sounds from the audience but after two years with no signs of the show returning, they should have gotten the memo. Sasha pulls flaps of her jacket apart exposing her T-shirt underneath.
“In fact, I’m now officially an independent artist. My time working with Gisney is over. So, I can finally say this.”
Sasha stops holding back her smile and stands showing off her shirt. It’s a custom T made specifically for this interview. The whole thing is colored like a gay pride flag with two same-sex pairing stick figures on the bottom making out, and in case that wasn’t obvious enough above them white letters read The World Has Bigger Problems Than Girls That Kiss Girls and Boys That Kiss Boys. You know, just to piss off the good Christian demographic.
“The industry can eat my entire ass.”
Sasha double flips off the cameras right as the show director scream Go to commercial! and sprints off the set.
Sasha cackles, straight up cackles, in the car as they drive away from the studio.
“And then, and then, you could feel when Melody saw the shirt!” she dissolves into a fit of giggles, “God, I can’t wait to see their faces on social! Whooo!” Sasha pumps her fist, “Oh my god that was amazing! Where is the champagne? I need to celebrate.”
She rummages around in the jeep’s icebox looking for something alcoholic.
“Not here,” Grime, her driver, a five-foot-six ex-navy seal built like a brick house, rumbles from the front seat.
“What! Rude, Grimesy, just rude,” Sasha says leaning back in her seat. “I’m twenty-one you know, I can have alcohol now, legally. And it’s not like I haven’t before.”
“You are barely twenty-one and it’s not even ten,” Grime replies, “No drinking before five.”
Sasha slumps down further. “Buzzkill.”
“It’s literally why you pay me.”
Sasha grunts and then sits up looking out the windows.
“Wait, where are we going?”
Grime pulls into the drive-through line of one of those cheap fast-food chains she’d never been allowed to go to.
“Want some ice cream?” Grime barely gets the words out.
“Yes!”
Sasha gets a shake with as many pieces of candy in it she can order.
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I totally forgot i was going to have the Young Master have an affinity for the sea and jumped to recording/printing equipment. Whoops.
Also possible that the cravings for fish during Pages' pregnancy was a literal red herring because Partner just really likes fish and Pages was ACTUALLY just craving food they'd make it. The one place in the Neath without any difficulty in getting ingredients is, after all, the spires of the Bazaar.
Even if it meant Pages lurking in the background while Partner brokered an actual agreement with Apples over vegetables they hadn't seen since the Fall. Because its worried the other master might screw them on a deal. Yes, that, and not because it considers Partner part of its collection of things it owns [cough, cares about, cough] and worries they might be swept away by another master. AKA the pregnancy paranoia of 'what if they decide a mate with control over food is more valuable than one with knowledge-- oh stars, oh no--' took hold and it Looms. Afterward Partner gets shuffled into its study and wrapped up in wings, all protectively. It insists this is due to the baby needing closeness.
Literally none of the other Masters take Pages looming seriously. Largely because they know its just hormones, and partially because they know it'd have been worse if it had managed to make Partner pregnant somehow. Because while a pregnant Curator is a bit moody, they tend to fall back into very specific habits around their nesting sites and just guard that while their mate looks for food. They'll still fight etc if they have to, but on the whole aren't going to be the ones showing up at gatherings and starting shit. Curators currently overseeing a pregnant mate, however, are more likely to be territorial because they already committed resources and time to this other being. While the child is being grown and then raised, they're aggressively protective. It doesn't help that they likely move their collections of things they buy and sell with TO the location of their mate during this time. So resource protection on top of it.
With Pages at the Bazaar, though, at most they have to worry about is it getting defensive. Which is manageable, because it won't do anything drastic while pregnant. And once the Young Master is born, Pages is too wiped out health wise--because hybrids are.. difficult, from what i understand--to do anything but very slowly move about because it doesn't want to look weak by staying in bed.
Not pictured is Griz running the Department of Accounting and Recounting alone for like a solid week on either side of the birth because Pages has no choice but to be laid up in bed. This results in her glaring at Partner the next time they visit Chapmans and flatly informing them that she hasn't slept properly in three days. They deflect this by showing her sketches of the newborn Young Master. She admits its cute, in a very beleaguered tone before the actual congratulations come out. This is helped by the fact Partner brought food with them for everyone. Archie is personally still hung up on what in the devil the Masters even are and the baby sketches do not help.
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But yes I have thoughts about Albedo having a sort of mommy complex... Different from the others, though, not quite an Oedipal thing, but more of a hyper-attachment to a very maternal, affectionate darling.
See, he never had a motherly figure. Like yes he had Rhinedottir but... She's described as cold and calloused... it even says in his story "He had always believed wholeheartedly that his teacher would make good on her threat to leave him, should he fail." So basically he was brought up to be afraid of failure most likely, and threatened with abandonment. He's never had a figure that was very motherly in the traditional sense. Like, super sweet, doting, coddling and nurturing, forgiving.
So when a darling like that comes along... Soft and sweet girl... Ray of sunshine... He gets attached like glue.
He knew Rhinedottir would leave him if he didn't meet expectations... So he's a perfectionist. Has always been very afraid of failure. He can't mess anything up. So it's very very rare that he does.
Unfortunately, one of those extremely rare cases happens to be... All over darling. He was distracted by darlings choice of particularly tight clothing that day, accidentally put two wrong things together and whoops... Something of a chemical explosion. Gets all over your clothes, staining them. He's unusually apologetic, it's rare to hear his voice actually non-monotone, actually has a slight panic to it. You're an employee, after all, you can leave at any time, and you certainly will now...
But... You... Smile...? Laugh a bit. It's ok. Don't worry about it.
Which feels... So foreign. You're not mad? Not disappointed? You're not threatening to quit or leave him behind? Even though he messed up? It's a very new experience. It makes him feel strange. You tell him to be more careful, but before he can apologize, you add, you could have gotten hurt! And that line throws him off. Be more careful... for his own sake? Not yours? He's still silent when you walk off to change, but stands there in a confused daze, staring off into space, unable to understand.
And then, you... Care about him? He falls asleep at his desk, slumped over. When he wakes up, there's a blanket over his shoulders, all the papers he was working on have been pushed to the side and stacked in a neat pile so he didn't smudge the ink or drool on them or anything. So strange, he doesn't remember doing that... Unless you did it? It's just the two of you in here, so that means you had to do it. But... Why?
Then, a few weeks later, he gets sick. Not that it means anything, his master always taught him that sickness and injury isn't an excuse to stop working, so he's still working on his things as he's sniffling and coughing.
And you fret over it. Get in that... Oddly... Maternal sort of fussing, tell him no, no, go lay down, you poor thing. You more or less force him to rest, not only that, but you bring him food for the rest of the day. Tell him not to worry, you'll take care of everything, you'll clean up the work station and get everything resolved for the day.
He thinks through it logically and decides you must be worried he'll get other people sick, right? That's why. Nothing else would explain this strange course of actions you've taken. His brain can't understand why you would do all that... just because you want to.
Yet, it persists when he's injured. He's used to that too. Glass breaks pretty easily, cuts his hands and fingers, but he just bandages it up and goes back to work as he was taught he's supposed to. You won't have that though. He didn't even take care of it right! It'll get infected, you say, as you force him to sit down, undo the poorly done bandages, get everything you need. Rubbing alcohol, for the infection potential. It'll hurt, you say, here, squeeze my hand. And he does - it does sting like a bitch after all. But the pain isn't really in the forefront of his mind. He's too lost in the strangeness of it all. Isn't this technically wasting time? He could easily work through the pain. He's just silent as your soft hands wrap up his fingers, you're back to that odd fussing where you say things like poor thing and it's ok and to top it off, you pull his hand up to your mouth and kiss his fingers, to make them better faster!, you say. Very strange -- scientifically speaking, the kissing should not have any actual effect, yet somehow it actually does make him feel better... must be some chemical effect he’s unaware of...?
But the strangest occurrence of all occurs when he does do well. He's used to people thinking he's smart by now, people always admire him. That alone was a startling change when he first arrived in Mondstadt, he was so used to doing things right being... expected. The bare minimum. Rhinedottir would look at what he made and often just nod in acknowledgement, it was expected, but other people think it's nice... but, he tells himself, what he does isn't really impressive. People just think it is because they've never seen alchemy at work before, that's all. It's not actually good.
He always tells himself to get ahold of himself whenever he feels happy with success -- he shouldn't feel happy or proud, no, it's not good enough, he has to push himself more, do better... but you can't help but notice the smile that initially crosses his face at the success, the way his eyes light up before they go dull again as he chastises himself for allowing himself to feel too proud... you're more perceptive than he thinks, you've picked up on how he pushes himself too hard for perfection. So you try to make him feel better... you say you're proud of him. You say it's good. Not just adequate, not the bare minimum... you look actually impressed... it makes him feel proud, and for once he can't get that prideful feeling to go away. It feels like a high, a buzz, it lasts the rest of the day, he keeps remembering that you said you were proud! You said it was good! It repeats over and over in his head like a record.
It actually takes a time when Alice comes back to understand it. He's happy to see her again, but as he watches her go about her interactions with her daughter, it strikes him as familiar. Poor Klee never gets hurt by her bombs, but she trips and scrapes her knee, goes crying to her mother... who does something that mirrors what you did. Tells her it's ok, tells her to squeeze her hand if it hurts, she'll take care of it... she has that same baby-talk-ish fussing tone to her voice, calls her poor thing just like you did him... when Klee falls asleep on the floor, Alice just smiles and wraps her up and puts her things away, carries her to bed... and when she accidentally blows something up (again), Alice just runs fingers through her hair and tells her it's ok, she didn't mean to do it right? Just be more careful from now on, she could have gotten hurt -- the exact same thing you told him -- but... she's still proud, her bombs are made so well!
He makes the connection. So this is what maternal affection and care feels like? He starts to think it would have been nice to have that, even if he was technically never a "child" in the physical sense, it would have been a nice thing to have in the early stages of his life... Or at any time. Or now. It feels nice... foreign, strange, unfamiliar, but so so nice and warm and comforting. He feels like it's ok if he messes up, if it's you. You forgive him. You always do. And if he gets hurt or sick, you'll help... It feels so nice. It's the only real comfort he's ever known. He feels safe and secure and like he doesn't have to be perfect all the time.
But he doesn't like the way that extends to others.
You're nice to everyone, he soon finds out. You help everyone when they get hurt. You forgive everyone when they mess up. It makes him feel some cold, twisting feeling in his gut and chest, he finds himself slamming things, clenching his teeth when he hears you talking in that same sweet voice to other people.
It's really not fair, when you think about it. He never had that, but most people do, right? Most people have a mother or a mother figure in their lives they can go to, he never had that, that's what you're supposed to be. Everyone else's mother or maternal figure is theirs, not everyone's. Why does his have to be there for everyone? Why not just him? Doesn't he deserve what everyone else gets to have?
It's that line of thinking that leads him to isolate you. When he initially sets off to go set up camp in the mountains, he decides you should be the one that comes to work up there, rather than the other assistants. They can stay in Mondstadt... you're too nice to them anyway. As long as you're up here, you won't be able to be nice to anyone else, and all that sweet, maternal affection can be just for him... like it should be.
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Traffic Jam Session
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader
Word Count: +1.5K
Warnings: Nat being ridiculously confident and flirtatious? I think that deserves a warning. This is just pure self-indulgent fluff.
Summary: Stuck in a traffic jam, another commuter requests that you turn your music up
Inspired by this meet-cute prompt:
We are caught in an extreme traffic jam and have been sitting next to each other, parked, for the last five minutes. Your radio is playing my absolute favorite song so I ask you to turn it up. We spend the rest of the slow traffic aggressively singing along to the music at each other.
Prompt list found here
A/N: I tweaked the prompt just a little, hope it's still enjoyable. This was so much fun to write!
Thank you to @river-soul for her incredible beta skills and endless patience 😭❤️ and @whisperlullaby for workshopping with me 💗
Disclaimer: gif not mine
It's a decently warm day, sunny and clear, and the azure blue sky is dotted sparsely with clouds. A breeze blows through the car windows, playing with the feathers on your dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror while you're stuck in traffic. You had been creeping along for the better part of 20 minutes, but you've been at a standstill now for almost five.
Typically one to drive home in silence to decompress, today the stillness and lack of road noise makes you want to turn on some music instead. Since nothing playing on the local stations feels right, you sync your car Bluetooth with your phone and scroll through your music streaming apps. A playlist you made simply entitled "Happy" seems to fit your mood and the gorgeous weather so you press Shuffle All and settle back in your seat.
The soothing, light-hearted Put Your Records On filters through the speakers and you can't help the smile that curves your lips as you close your eyes. Propping your arm on the window, head on your hand, you bask in the sun's warmth. You periodically crack open an eye to check on the car in front of you but there's no change. Everyone on the road has parked and resigned themselves to the long wait.
Your playlist contains a wide variety of genres, cherry-picked songs that unfailingly lift your mood. They're radio hits, usually well-known songs, and easy to sing along with. You happily bop your way through your playlist, getting a little more energetic, singing along to each song.
Walking on Sunshine just finishes and the next song is cueing when you hear a sweet voice ask lowly, "Do you mind turning it up a little?" You grin and twist the volume knob so I'm Gonna Be (500 miles) plays louder before looking to the eavesdropper that's enjoying your tunes.
Holy shit. How did you not notice the car next to you? There is no way they were there the whole time. They're all beautiful. Two men, two women - blondie is driving, two brunettes are in the back seat, and a redhead is in the passenger seat. She was the one that spoke and she grins gratefully, leaning closer, head tilted out the window. You turn it up a little more as she starts singing along.
You grin widely and start singing with her. Her companions in the car laugh and join in good naturedly, cheering as the two of you belt the call-and-answer part of the song.
When the song ends, you're both breathlessly laughing, smiles wide. You turn your stereo volume down even as the next song starts to play and stretch out for a high five. She gives your hand a satisfying slap as she laughs joyfully.
"That was so fun! Thank you so much, I love that song."
"I do too! You're a great partner! And the back-ups were awesome!" You playfully finger-gun point at the driver and backseat passengers. They cheerfully laugh and thank you. You don't remember the last time you smiled this hard.
"I'm glad you didn't mind - I could barely hear it. I had Steve try to get closer but that didn't really help much, so I just decided to ask you." She gives you a sheepish but pleased smile and you return it.
"Oh no I don't mind! I haven't had this much fun in ages!" You can't seem to stop smiling but maybe it's okay because she's smiling at you, too.
"I'm Nat," she says suddenly, and you don't hesitate to tell her your name. She repeats it quietly, still smiling softly at you.
There's a stretch of silence, you're both just looking at each other and one of her friends clear their throat, causing you both to blink. You think maybe you should be embarrassed but she doesn't appear fazed in the slightest.
"In the spirit of introductions, hello beautiful. I'm Sam." The male brunette sitting behind Nat says smoothly after his light cough. "This is Wanda, up there is Steve." He gestures to the woman beside him and to the driver, respectively.
Your gaze never leaves Nat. You can't tear your eyes from her even as Sam speaks, catching the quick tightness around the edges of her mouth before it relaxes again as you smile and respond to her rather than Sam.
"It's nice to meet you," you say sincerely to Nat. Her answering pleased expression as she returns the sentiment warms you. A pleasant tightness fills your chest as her lips quirk at something Sam mutters under his breath. The woman next to him, Wanda, laughs quietly.
"So, you know, we're gonna be here for a while. Let's see what else you got to listen to." Nat grins expectantly at you with a raised brow and you mirror her expression as you turn the knob.
You're pretty sure you've found your soulmate when her eyes spark in delight and she belts along effortlessly to Sweet Caroline, arms spreading dramatically as she almost nails the driver, Steve, in his face with the back of her hand. Sam and Wanda cackle as he shoves her arm away in mock affront and she sticks her tongue out at him.
You can't help but laugh at their antics, watching her perform, directing her friends' involvement ("bah, bah, bahh") before she turns to you ("so good, so good, so good!"). This is quickly becoming one of the best times you've ever had.
The song continues, both of you sharing the lead, absolutely ridiculous and uncaring of the scene you're making. If anyone in the surrounding cars felt disgruntled at the impromptu concert, you'd never know it. The girl in the car next to you has your undivided attention.
You're not sure how long it's been, how many songs you've played and sang along to, but after a while, traffic slowly creeps to life. Steve taps Nat on the arm during a lull between songs and you lower the volume as she turns to him. He gestures at the line of cars ahead, the ones directly in front still unmoving but in the distance you see brake lights releasing, vehicles rolling forward.
She turns back to you, chewing the inside of her lip as she looks at you thoughtfully. She seems to make a decision and reaches her hand out to you.
"Here, let me see your phone real quick." She makes a single gimme motion, fingers flicking closed then open as you hand the device over. Your lips spread into a wide smile at the triumphant look that crosses her face.
She beams at you before dropping her gaze to the phone, fingers moving quickly across the screen. You hear an unfamiliar notification tone and she pulls a phone from her lap, holding it up to show you.
"I text myself from your phone. Now we have each other's numbers. I wanna be able to call you later." She's unabashedly smug as she hands your phone back and you wonder if your face shows just how pleased you are.
You look down at the message thread she left open for you, the unsaved number displayed at the top.
"Traffic Jam Hottie 😍"
The single line of text and emoji sent from your phone to the number makes you bite your lip and shyly cover your smile with your fingertips. You look at her with raised eyebrows and she correctly interprets your unasked question and shrugs.
"That's your contact name. I'll probably never change it, not even after we get married."
It's sly and nonchalant, how she slips that in there, smooth as you please. Your jaw drops and her friends all seem to choke on air but her gaze, locked on you, is unwavering. The flirtatious expression on her face is simultaneously sincere and mischievous as she watches for your reaction.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach, your chest feels tight and pleasantly warm. Your smile stretches so wide your cheeks hurt as she winks and you're so giddy, you don't care how eager you look in this moment.
You quickly save her contact information and smirk, wiggling your phone at her.
"I'd hope not. I think having matching contact info is pretty cute and kinda romantic. A fun story for the wedding toasts." You grin cheekily.
Her expression shifts, full of mischief, a quirk of her eyebrow that makes your breath hitch and sets your heart racing as her friends whoop with glee at your banter. Her lips spread in a sly smile and you can't help but return it. You're positive you've never smiled this much in your life.
Too soon, the gridlock lets up and you both start moving with traffic. The cars in front of you begin to roll, the lane speeds varying enough to cause you to separate. She's still grinning at you as they get further ahead. You can faintly hear their teasing and you catch a glimpse of her profile, smiling and laughing, before she's no longer visible.
They take an exit as you continue on and you barely have a moment to mourn that they're out of view before your phone vibrates in your lap. Picking it up, you grin madly at the screen, the contact "Traffic Jam Hottie 😍" scrolling across the top.
Accepting the call, you hear it connect through you car speakers, her friends still audible in the background. Your heart stutters when she purrs her greeting.
"Hey hottie."
-----------------------
Tagging some of my amazing discord family: @buckyownsmylife @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog
#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female!reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#black widow#black widow imagine#black widow fanfiction#black widow fluff#black widow x you#black widow x y/n#black widow x reader#black widow x female!reader#black widow x fem!reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel fluff#steve rogers#sam wilson#wanda maximoff#velvetcardiganbucky
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if you wrote obikin for #4 with anakin as a single parent and obi-wan as luke and leia's teacher i would simply die happy!!
here it is!!! thank you so much!
4. Teacher/Single Parent AU (modern!AU)(DinLuke shows up as little kids)(2.4k)(whoops)
Anakin stares across the table at Luke, who gnaws on a slice of grilled cheese, carefully leaving the crusts behind. Oh god, he’d forgotten to cut them off of Luke’s sandwich, had cut them off of Leia’s instead, even though she didn’t mind them. And of course they hadn’t told him either. He can’t tell if he’s been forgiven for his error or if it will come back to haunt him later tonight when he tries to put the twins to bed at eight.
“Luke,” he says carefully. “I think I’m just a little confused.”
Leia looks up. She loves when her father is a little confused because it means Luke is probably a bit in trouble and she gets to be the one to set the record straight for him.
Which isn’t to say Leia is a tattle-tale. Anakin’s seen her watch Luke hit another child upside the head with a toy train and then say absolutely nothing when questioned by the daycare instructor.
Daddy’s interrogations are just a special case where she can become a guilt-free turncoat.
“How did you get a Unicorn sticker in art class?” he asks.
The Unicorn stickers, of course, mean unsatisfactory.
He pays extra money for his children to be coddled and kept away from words like Fail and Unsatisfactory, even though that’s what all the parents know the stickers mean. As long as the children don't yet.
“And I don’t understand the rainbow sticker at all,” he continues helplessly, regarding the piece of artwork in front of him, where a handful of dried macaroni noodles are lacklusterly glued to the page.
“The Unicorn sticker means it was bad, but the rainbow sticker means that Mr. Kenobi forgives him,” Leia pipes up, leaning across the table to take the icky crusts from her brother’s plate and dipping them into her tomato soup.
“But it was dry macaroni,” Anakin says incredulously. Luke’s eyes start getting misty as he stares resolutely down at his plate. That’s the last thing Anakin wants. But he just doesn’t understand. Luke’s the most creative of both of his children, has seemed to take after Anakin in that way. Last Christmas, Anakin had given him a model train set that he’d put together inside of a week. If he can do that, he can do a self-portrait in dry macaroni.
“He gave Din all of his noodles,” Leia reports.
“Didn’t Din have any?” Anakin asks, feeling completely out of his element and also sort of like a detective trying to solve a cold case.
“He wanted to save them for his puppy,” Luke mumbles. “They just got him and they can’t figure out what he eats, so Din thought he could try macaroni because I told him I like macaroni and cheese a lot.”
Anakin is on the cliff of despair, but he can’t exactly ask whether or not this Din knows there’s a difference between the dried macaroni from art class and boxed macaroni and cheese from Kraft. He’s not sure he even wants to know the answer.
“And then Luke didn’t have a lot left for his picture,” Leia finishes the story and her soup in one fell swoop.
“Couldn’t you have asked Mr. Kenobi for more?” Anakin asks Luke who shakes his head but doesn’t seem to want to elaborate. Anakin turns only slightly pleading eyes to Leia, who is the expert on anything her brother doesn’t want to say.
“Mr. Kenobi sits at the front, and Luke sat at the back today so it was really far.”
“But you always sit at the front!” Anakin says, appalled. Sure, he hadn’t managed to make it to the most recent round of parent-teacher conferences due to an unfortunately timed shift at the garage, but he knows where his kids sit in a classroom.
Luke mumbles something into his bowl.
“What was that?” Anakin asks.
Leia translates. “Din doesn’t sit at the front,” she says.
Anakin sits back in his chair and runs a hand over his mouth. Luke has a crush. His son, Luke, has his very first crush on a boy and he’s already doing stupid things in order to see the boy. Oh no. Oh god. Of all the things to take after Anakin on, it’s this one.
“Okay,” he says, mostly to himself. “It’s okay. Unicorns aren’t so bad.”
“Way better than giraffes,” Leia tells her brother bracingly, seeming to know instinctively that the gossiping part of this conversation is over. “And you got a rainbow, which means Mr. Kenobi isn’t mad.”
Anakin wonders, with the context, if that’s actually what the rainbow means, or if Mr. Kenobi isn’t just incredibly observant.
“TV time, kids,” he says, only feeling sort of bad about the screentime or whatever, as Luke perks up and runs with Leia into the living room.
After five minutes to make sure they’ve successfully turned on and found a child-appropriate show, Anakin gathers the dishes and loads the washer. Then he sighs as loud as he can without disrupting the kids.
Then he pulls out his phone and the school directory and finds the email for one Mr. Obi-Wan Kenobi, art teacher.
It takes him twenty minutes to figure out an email that doesn’t sound too judgemental, harsh, worried, skeptical, or angry. It takes another five minutes to figure out how to sign off on it. Kind regards? Best? Thanks? Sincerely? What is the etiquette for emailing your son’s art teacher to arrange a meeting because you’re worried your son will fail the class simply because he’s inherited terrible genes from his father?
It takes ten minutes, in the end, for Mr. Kenobi to email back, and he does so with a very straightforward message. He’s available to chat after school hours tomorrow, if it works for Anakin.
Anakin pulls up his work schedule. He’s supposed to work until five in the evening tomorrow, has already booked a slot at the after-care program for the twins. But.
He texts Ahsoka to ask if she could cover the last few hours of his shift. She texts back a string of rather offensive emojis, but settles down when he tells her it’s for his kids. Technically, he isn’t even lying. He’s just being overbearing.
He spends another fifteen minutes trying to compose a response email in between making sure the kids brush their teeth, wash behind their ears, and have their bags packed for the morning. He’s so stressed out by it that he’s not even sure he includes a signature at all before he hits send. God. Meeting Mr. Kenobi had better be worth all of this stress.
---
Finding Mr. Kenobi’s classroom is almost more stress than the correspondence from the night before had been. The only reason Anakin doesn’t sit down and cry against the garishly yellow brick lining the hallways is that he keeps telling himself that if his two seven-year-olds can do this, Anakin surely can.
The art classroom is tucked away in a forgotten corner of the school and it takes three wrong turns and one accidental entrance into a thankfully deserted first grade room for Anakin to find it. He knocks on the open door and then decides he should call as well to announce his presence. “Uh, Mr. Kenobi? I’m Anakin. Skywalker. We talked last night?” He takes a couple of steps into the room, which is lined in children’s art and paint-stained tables.
A man emerges from a backroom, dressed in a very loose and paint-flecked denim shirt over a white tank top and a pair of slacks. He’s wearing a pair of thick glasses that he takes off as soon as he sees Anakin. His beard is neatly trimmed and his hair, a sort of bronzed auburn, neatly combed.
He’s holding a paintbrush in one hand, and still, of course, Anakin’s dumb brain overrides the part of him that’s saying, This is clearly Mr. Kenobi in favor saying, quite politely, “Oh! I’m sorry. Is Mr. Kenobi back there?”
The man who could not possibly be more obviously the art teacher raises an amused eyebrow.
Look. No one told Anakin that elementary school art teachers could be so attractive. He’d not done anything to prepare for this.
“You must be Luke’s father,” Mr. Kenobi says, waving him forward.
“What makes you say that?” Anakin asks, a tad too defensively, thinking of his own self-deprecating thoughts last night about Luke taking after him when it comes to being sort of stupid around people they liked. He’s just being paranoid.
“The...last...name,” now Mr. Kenobi is definitely trying to hide his smile and Anakin wants to die. “Would you like to sit?”
Anakin does so rather graciously, given the circumstances. He even makes sure he keeps their chairs very far apart. Mostly in order to preserve his own dignity, but he thinks he should get credit for his self-control at this spur of the moment single-parent-hot-teacher conference.
“I’m sorry for my appearance,” Mr. Kenobi says, pulling the oversized button up closed over his tank top. “I must admit, I mostly forgot you were coming by. I was working on one of my own projects.”
“You paint?” Anakin asks.
Mr. Kenobi tilts his head slightly and flicks his eyes around the room as if in answer.
Anakin flushes but digs his heels in. “Well, I don’t know,” he mumbles mulishly. “Do math teachers do math in their spare time?”
This startles a laugh out of the teacher, which makes some long forgotten part of Anakin’s psyche sit up and preen. “I’m sure some of them do,” he says. “No, I do art mostly for the town right now. I’m working on a series of pieces for the public library at the moment.”
Anakin tries his hardest not to obviously melt, but Mr. Kenobi has not looked away from his face much so surely he can see it in his eyes.
“That’s quite. Nice,” Anakin says, coughing into his fist.
“And what do you do?” Mr. Kenobi asks in a way that’s just on the other side of polite. Anakin has the strange thought that if they had cups of coffee between them, he’d feel like he was on a very casual first date.
He has to shake his head to rid himself of that idea. “I’m a mechanic,” he says.
Mr. Kenobi looks interested, of all things. Most people don’t. Most people make some sort of assumption about him, about his life, his ability to parent his children, as if they’re not the ones rolling into his shop at 5:54 pm because their car is “making a funny noise”.
But Mr. Kenobi just looks interested.
“Oh?” He says. “That makes sense. Leia is always talking about how her father can fix anything.”
“Well,” Anakin blushes and looks away. “You know kids. Turn it off and turn it back on usually blows their minds.”
Mr. Kenobi smiles indulgently before clearing his throat. “You wanted to talk about Luke?”
“Oh! Yes!” He had come here with the express desire to talk about Luke with Mr. Kenobi. Not secure a date with Mr. Kenobi. “I saw that Luke got a... unicorn...and a rainbow on his last project, and it made me worry.”
It sounds very, very overbearing coming out of his mouth. This is an elementary school art class. Why did he think that he should come in and talk to a teacher over his son’s bad grade? Especially when it was pretty clear Luke deserved it.
Mr. Kenobi tilts his head in confusion. “Well, yes, I suppose I usually give Luke two suns on his work, so I understand if the change was upsetting to you.”
“And we’re saying that two suns are good?” Anakin checks, feeling very out of his element here.
“Oh, yes, very good,” Mr. Kenobi assures him. “But his last project wasn’t. Well.”
“He says he got distracted,” Anakin mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. “Over a boy.”
“Haven’t we all been there,” Mr. Kenobi murmurs, sounding very amused. Anakin peeks over his fingers at this declaration.
“Yeah,” he says roughly. “That’s sort of exactly what I thought.”
Mr. Kenobi clears his throat again. “Well. That’s why I gave him the unicorn then. It was a bit of bad work, but a very rare showing of it. And the rainbow, to signify that I know he’ll be back to normal again next time. You shouldn’t worry about this one project either, Mr. Skywalker. I do give final grades holistically, not weighted by any one assignment. This is, after all, a children’s art class.”
Anakin wants to thunk his head on the table in front of him. “You do know that all the parents think unicorn means unsatisfactory, right?”
“Why?” Mr. Kenobi has the nerve to look shocked.
“They both start with U, I don’t know,” Anakin says, waving an agitated hand through the air.
“Well, sometimes parents can be quite stupid,” Mr. Kenobi says primly and then looks horrified at himself. “Please don’t tell them I said that.”
Anakin laughs and gets to his feet reluctantly. His worries over Luke have been dealt with, but he finds himself very reluctant to leave.
“Well,” he says slowly, eyes firmly looking only at Mr. Kenobi’s face, “Thank you for meeting with me. I guess you don’t get many frantic parent-teacher conferences over a unicorn sticker.” He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck with his hand in embarrassment. He can admit now that perhaps he had overreacted.
Mr. Kenobi places his hand delicately over the hand Anakin still has on the table, just for a second, squeezing it with enough pressure that Anakin has to look up at him again. “Only the best parents,” he says with a half-smile.
Anakin finds himself grinning back, unwilling to move his hand now that Kenobi’s touching it. “And, um. If you ever take the kids on an art museum tour or something, and you need chaperones….give me a call.”
“Would I have to wait that long?” Kenobi asks innocently.
Anakin’s never shaken his head no so quickly before. “Any time,” he tells the man very seriously, already backing out of the room. “Before you think too much about it and decide not to would probably be preferable.”
Mr. Kenobi laughs. “I’m sure I’ll think about it a lot,” he says as he turns to go back to his art studio. He calls over his shoulder. “In bed, tonight.”
Anakin trips over a child-sized easel with a loud clatter and an even louder curse, and he can’t decide which of the two should be more thankful school is out for the day. Probably Mr. Kenobi. Yeah. Probably definitely Mr. Kenobi.
#asks#my fics#obikin#just fluff#also omg re: my last tagged fic prompt and my gyoza#i was so excited about my gyoza i forgot to add a keep reading cut#so it looks SO long#and i went back and i added it but im also very sorry#i also had three gyoza which was a bit too much for 12:45am#and now it's 3:15 but i finished another prompt bless#prompt fill#art teacher obi-wan au
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I don't see how Rickon will die ? The Shaggydog foreshadowing is there but I just can't wrap my head around the circumstances in which he would die. Unlike SweetRobin (I bet he is surviving the series) who is ill, Rickon is a healthy kid. He won't suffer a mortal wound in the battle considering he won't be fighting in one . So, the only way by which GRRM offs him is employing some situational scenario where he is just unlucky and dies a death which could have otherwise been prevented easily.
Hi anon!
Barring the optimal scenario of Rickon's survival --
(*Septon Rickon Prayer Circle*)
(*Rickon Heir to King Bran Prayer Circle*)
(*Wildling Envoy Rickon On Skagos Prayer Circle*)
-- I think illness or murder are the most likely culprits.
Illness would be so out of left field, in a setting where it should be everywhere but isn't. Yet. The King in the North has passed away from whooping cough. Whoopsie daisy. Succession crisis no longer averted!
Murder - or a suspicious death - would most likely be related to Littlefinger's scheming. He has a track record to match and Rickon would be the biggest obstacle to gaining power through Sansa.
His death would absolutely shatter any sense of reprieve granted to the Starks after reuniting and retaking Winterfell. It might also provide the impetus for the dark tone of a book version of the Winterhell plot. Basically, if he dies, it would play into the conflict between Arya and Sansa, and give a more immediate sense of wrathful fury to the sisters than "simply" Ned's death, once they find out Littlefinger's culpability.
If he lives, he could take on the role of Edmure to Sansa and Arya's Tully Sister mirror. Maybe give Littlefinger a sweet nickname before his head decorates the walls.
That said, I have a suspicion that Shaggydog's existence as a pretty wild and uncontrolled magical direwolf implies that Shaggy will need to die, at the very least. Maybe he will be the mirror to Lady, even. The suspicious death of a protector wolf that would serve as a warning for things to come - like Catelyn sensed the warning in the dead direwolf mother - but this time the sisters recognize the writing on the Wall and band together to protect the baby.
But don't ask me how the mechanics of Northern succession would work with a "Rickon lives" AU, unless the Nothern lords themselves decide to elevate Sansa to the throne by popular proclamation rather than based on inheritance, or they decide to spontaneously do away with male preference. Neither of which seems incredibly likely. But then, if Jon is the one to reject the Northern crown (or his parentage prevents it) they might do their version of a Great Council and truly just pick the next best candidate. Depending on how "wild" baby Rickon truly is, they might just go for the girl who is almost a decade older and close to the age of legal majority.
I would actually love other people's thoughts on this.
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