#desiderium part 2

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

*

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

*

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

*

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

*

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note: everything i write is wlw, mostly video game characters and yellowjackets, all works are posted to ao3! i'm constantly getting ideas, but when i actually write these things is a whole different matter...

TRUTH OR DARE..

kaitlyn ka x female reader, the quarry, no werewolves, 2.8k words, oneshot

GLADIATOR

johanna mason x female reader, the hunger games, longer series, slowburn, ongoing, 7.5k total words so far

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4,

CLIMBING OUT OF HELL

rachel king x female reader, house of ashes, work in progress :(

AFTER THE STORM

samantha giddings x female reader, until dawn, work in progress :(

DESIDERIUM: AN INTENSE LONGING

laura kearney x female reader, the quarry, work in progress :(

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, oneshot, best friends to lovers, lottie gets possessed, 5.6k words

LOCKER ROOM

lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, work in progress :(

POSSESSED / POSSESSIVE

lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, work in progress :(

CLEANING YOUR BLOODY WOUNDS

lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, oneshot, s2 ep7 spoilers, looking after lottie, 1.3k words

A HITCH-HIKER'S GUIDE TO LOVE

older lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, based on a submission, work in progress :(

THE NUMBER FIVE

lottie matthews x female reader, yellowjackets, work in progress :(

requests are open <3 (i think?)

[sp00kymulderr]

San Valentín - a Javier Peña x f!reader mini-series

Find my main masterlist here

Rating: 18+ (warnings in each part)

Series summary: A secret tryst on Valentine’s Day with your colleague and occasional lover Javier unveils feelings you know you shouldn’t have. Romance isn’t what you both wanted, right?

Part 1 - San Valentín

Part 2 - Desiderium

Part 3 - Saudade

Notes: this was my 2nd work for the ppcu fandom some years ago, and I think it shows in some of the writing and overall concept. I’d like to revisit this one day, maybe a little rewrite when I get the time. But that said, this little series is close to my heart.

Moodboard by @\spoopyredacted

[rekaning]

Reka's Masterlist

Elijah Mikaelson

One-shots:

Desiderium

Domestic Bliss

Series:

The Housekeeper

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The Originals

One-shots:

Mute!Child!reader

Not A Peep | Painful Silence

[yaksha-lover]

Masterlist

✦ = most popular, ♥︎ = my fav

AUs

Twisted Wonderland Vampire AU

Twst Medieval AU

Multi

After Ghost Bride, Leona and Vil compete to see who can charm MC (Multi x Reader) Part 2 ✦

Someone New (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Idia, Malleus x reader)

Twst guys + baby fever ✦

Unrequited Love in Twst

Hozier Drabble Masterlist

Heartslabyul

Riddle:

Riddle x Short!Reader ♥︎

Trey:

Cater:

Ace:

Deuce:

Savanaclaw

Leona:

Sentimental

First Love/Late Spring

Waking up with Malleus and Leona ♥︎

Malleus-Leona love triangle ✦ ♥︎

Wishes of Love ♥︎

Ruggie:

Jack:

Octavinelle

Multi:

Touch (Yan!Octavinelle)

Toxic Jade and Floyd HCs

Azul:

Sunlight

Jade:

Floyd:

Scarabia

Jamil:

Friends

Kalim:

Pomefiore

Vil:

Desiderium ✦

Cupiditas ♥︎

Daydreams (+background Rook)

Depraved

Rook:

All Good Things

Worship

Epel:

Ignihyde

Idia:

Idia with a crush on Yuu

Diasomnia

Multi:

Cold (Yan!Diasomnia)

Silver:

A tale as Old as Time (+Malleus)

Sebek:

Shrike

Lilia:

Thus Always To Tyrants (+Meleanor) Fic art!

Malleus:

Friendship Bracelet ✦

Love at first sight ✦ ♥︎

Flirty!Yuu

Possessive!Yuu ✦

Fate ♥︎

Fae and Human Aging ✦

Random Malleus HCs ✦

‘Just Malleus’

Last of his family ✦

Birthdays

Tulips

Dinner with the Queen

Name

Insatiable (+ Rollo)

A Tale as Old as Time (+Silver)

Malleus missing Yuu after they’ve gone home

Pink in the Night ✦ ♥︎

It Will Come Back (Kitsune!Malleus x Reader)

Other

Rollo:

Angel ✦ ♥︎

Vile

Insatiable (+ Malleus)

Pity

MC confessed to Rollo

Meleanor:

Thus Always to Tyrants (+Lilia)

Character Analysis / Theories

Malleus ♥︎

Malleyuu Theory

Twst and Madoka Magica

[persieee-yoohoo]

Desiderium Part 3

Pair: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1574

Warnings: spoilers for CC HoSaB (let me know about anything else)

Note: I should have a plan for this but I don’t 

also available: ao3

Part 1 Part 2

It was a battle to evade sleep in the days following your first encounter with the shadow figure, but you determined to hold out. Your bed called to you constantly, goading you with sweet promises. However, even as the shadows under your eyes grew darker, you avoided its siren song. There was work to be done, and you had enough on your plate already without another side-dish of mystery.

While you avoided your own room in the Comitium, only returning to the complex when your duties to Celestina called you to, you welcomed the familiarity of the house Ruhn had shared with his friends. It was hard to ignore the missing presence of the Fae Prince, but you, Declan, Flynn, and Ethan kept busy on whatever tasked you all promised each other would get you closer to the group becoming whole again.

You'd seen what happened that day with your own eyes, silently watching over the footage Declan managed to hack over and over. Guilt tore at you, ripping through your heart and soul, as you watched the feedback on repeat, and Flynn had to physically shut his friend's laptop to pull you away from whatever spiral you were leading yourself towards. Your thoughts probably mimicked their own, about how you all should have been there to possible stop such a terrible fate from occuring, and you knew that you weren't the only one who wished that it could've been you in their place while they were kept in the horrid dungeons.

Hunt had suffered enough torture for a lifetime three times over, and you were sure that Ruhn probably had too given who his father was. You didn't even need to imagine what was happening to them, you only had to remember years ago to the agonizing black hole of time after you had been branded a slave in the wake of your first legion's failure.

You didn't have a mate like Hunt or some fated reason for being alive like Ruhn. You'd been a puppet for different archangels for years, for centuries, with no end in sight unless someone eventually wished to grant you that mercy. They had unfulfilled purposes in this world, and you wouldn't hesitate to take their place and face their punishment if it meant that they could continue their fight.

That was part of the reason you avoided meeting with Celestina at the Comitium. It was more than just simply avoiding your empty room and the shadows of whatever waited to haunt you in your sleep. It was the knowledge that you'd drop to your knees and beg Celestina to let your friends go and allow you to be punished in their place if you were in her presence long enough. You knew you would grovel at her feet and plead with her until your heart gave out, so you avoided the complex altogether. Perhaps you could face her one day, but only until you had everything else taken care.

“Y/N, did you hear us?” Flynn's grip on your shoulder was hesitant as he shook you awake. You'd dozed off only momentarily, barely in the throws of sleep when you'd been jostled. “We think we should call it a day. Dec's getting frustrated with his computer and Ethan's about to wolf out or something. You should get some rest, too. You look like shit.”

You ignored Ethan's warning growl at the red-head's jest about his worsening mood and leaned away from Flynn as you rubbed at your eyes. One of the books that Bryce had left behind in the house about different languages laid abandoned in your lap, the page you were on dog-marked to save your place. Moving the book to closest flat surface next to you, you stood and stretched out your tired limbs. No amount of coffee or strong-will would keep you up any longer, so you had to agree with your friend.

“What a heartfelt compliment, thank you so much. Things are tense at h—” You paused, not knowing if the Comitium could even be considered your home. It had been your residence for years, but it had never been the welcome comfort of a home. “At the Comitium, I mean. Everyone is on edge, and we all know to avoid Pollux when he's itching to have a pissing contest with whatever Malakh stares at him the wrong way.”

The three males sitting around you shared some glances that weren't lost on you, but you were too exhausted to get into it with them.

“Don't bother, I know what you're going to offer. There are enough people here without a set of wings to crowd your space. I'll be fine, I just need to be careful.” You tried to sound strong, for their sakes and your own, but your voice still wobbled just a bit.

You stood, shaking out your wings slightly before making your way to the front door. Flynn called out to you right as you unlocked the door, and you turned around just in time to hear a quick “Heads up!” before a dark object came projecting towards you from his outstretched hand. The smooth stone warmed against your palm as you caught it and you held it close, protecting it from the curious eyes of the others.

“You're carrying crystals around, now?” Flynn teased, but there was a mixed emotion laying somewhere deep in his eyes that you didn't want to figure out.

“It was from Bryce,” You shrugged, squeezing the stone even more, “before, you know. I don't know why she gave it to me. She said it was a worry stone, but I don't think it's helping.”

The stone was doing the opposite, actually. It was bringing you more worries than taking any away, and you only held onto it to be closer to your lost friend. Bryce saw something in you that no one else did, not even Hunt. It made you feel even more helpless knowing that you hadn't gotten a single lead on how to get her back.

You just got a realistic nightmare of a shadowy enigma and a permanent headache.

“I'll be in touch. Stay safe, okay?” With that, you left the house and immediately went airborne.

It wasn't hard to get to your room without being singled out. The floors were crowded with malakim, and you kept moving amongst the sea of wings and stares. Your paranoia got the better of you on several occasions, causing you to look over your shoulder or down different hallways, but there was never anyone that met your stare or lingered outside of your peripheral.

As soon as you made it to your room, you put Bryce's gift in the top drawer of your issued dresser. The comforting warmth of the stone had turned blistering in your palm on your flight over, and you needed to be disconnected from it before it got worse.

Out of sight, out of mind, or so you thought.

Stripping out of your outfit, you threw yourself on the bed. Even as you practically smothered yourself in your pillow and pulled your blanket over you, you felt the stone call back to you. It wanted to be back in your grasp, close to you rather than apart.

Hold me.

Touch me.

Keep me close.

Don't let me go.

The quiet beckoning made you feel crazy. It was just a stone, some foolish gimmick that a shop vendor had sweet-talked Bryce into buying on a whim. Maybe she had been embarrassed by giving in so she regifted it to you to make it seem better. Like that was the plan all along, give a friend a gift meant to steal some of their stress and replace negative emotion with something positive.

But still, the stone called to you, pulsing in the drawer you had abandoned it in like it was truly alive. A sentient tether to somewhere else, to someone else. The intensity of its call only gradually increased, and there was no ignoring it as it captured your mind in its siren song.

Please.

Kicking the blanket off of you and sitting up on the bed, your knees digging into the firm mattress beneath you, you stared at the closed dresser. Whatever strength you had left forfeited under the pull of the stone. You got down from the bed and blindly reached for the stone in the darkness of your room, the evening night finally dying as it ceased to stream into your bedroom window.

The moment your hand connected with the stone, its heat back to a comfortable simmer, you exhaled deeply. A feeling of something flowed from the stone and into your palm, traveling up your arm towards your heart, like it was in your blood. It felt right. It felt good.

As you flopped back on the bed, you chose to lay on your back with your wings splayed out beneath you. With the stone now resting right in the middle of your chest with a hand covering it, you took a few deep breaths before urging sleep to take you over.

“Finally,” a harsh voice rasped at you from deep within those shadows, “I've been waiting for you.”

[kazemi-archive]

DESIDERIUM - MASTERLIST

PRONOUNCED: des·​i·​de·​ri·​um | \desəˈdirēəm\

DEFINITION: an ardent desire or longing. especially: a feeling of loss or grief for something lost

PAIRING: Oikawa Tōru x Reader

GENRE: Angst

SYNOPSIS: You never did want to be pulled into the cycle of loving Tooru. You told him when you admitted to knowing that he liked you, you weren’t ready for a relationship. He didn’t listen. Wormed his way into your heart with his stupid moves that shouldn’t have worked. You dreamed of futures together, then one day... “Is this even worth trying to fix?”

STATUS: FINISHED

A/N: This is a therapy piece for me. I would like you all to know this will be very angst heavy. I love Oikawa, I really really do, he was one of my first Haikyuu crushes and I kin him very hard. This is my free therapy, however, because just recently my boyfriend of two and a half years left me with no warning the day before we were supposed to put in an apartment application together. This is how I’m coping. This piece will be very important to me so please be kind and if you’re interested in being tagged in it while it comes out, leave a comment or an ask.

PREQUEL

PARTS: order subject to change as they’re written

1. When vs If

2. Survivor’s Guilt

3. That Much

4. Abbreviate

5. Dirty Laundry

6. Life Lately

7. iCloud Storage

8. Strangers

9. 20s

10. Almost You

11. Out of the House

12. Better and Worse

13. I Always Knew

14. Phantom Pain

15. Two Week Notice

16. Closure

17. 7 Stages of Grief

[randomfoggytiger]

Hi! Thanks so much for all your fic recommendations and analysis posts! They are fantastic! 

I was wondering if in your travels you had come across any fics that rewrite season 9, so that Mulder didn't leave, BUT also keep going with something that looks like the plot of season 9. Not necessarily the exact plot (since it’s bonkers), but something where Mulder and Scully have to deal with the larger Mytharc while being parents. Falling In And In by Aloysia_Virgata is the closest I’ve come to what I’m looking for. 

And just to be clear, I love fics like Terra Firma by Malibusunset and Hurricane Season by Beduini and Rah, but they aren’t quite what I’m looking for in this case. 

Thanks!!!

YES I HAVE! (Thanks for the compliments~.) I did my best sticking to this very, VERY specific niche. Some of these include Mulder left but Scully joined him later:

Mulder Doesn't Leave But the Mytharc Continues

Lapsed_Scholar's MASTERFUL fill-in series: Mulder is a stay-at-home dad during the entire events of S9 (including the cat autopsy scene.) Love this to death; and it further cemented my hatred of canonical S9, so there's that: Season 9 Rewrites and Musings - Lapsed_Scholar - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

ML/ML_is_me’s (Ao3, Gossamer, DW, Invidiosa)  

Mulder is a stay-at-home dad battling the Conspiracy. Scully and their new partner get a call and drop-in from Phoebe, who is relatives with a higher-up:

1/ Project:TruthSeekers Alt Season Nine: Home Fires, Part One - ML_is_me, spookyawards_archivist - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] Goss Gossamer | Story: "The New Truth, A Project 09x04 - Home Fires 01" by ML  

2/ Project:TruthSeekers Alt Season Nine: Home Fires, Part Two - ML_is_me, spookyawards_archivist - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] Goss Gossamer | Story: "The New Truth, A Project 09x04 - Home Fires 02" by ML AU/INTP marvels that ISTJ tracked him down w/ Will-- Gossamer | Story: "155 Words - Thankful" by ML

@baronessblixen's short AU covers a S9 nightmare Mulder had: (53) Hate is always foolish and love is always wise on Tumblr Ao3 Just A Dream - Baroness_Blixen - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

@o6666666's (Ao3) 20. As we huddle together, the storm raging outside--  Untitled — 20 (tumblr.com)-- is an invasion story where Mulder and fam bunk out to escape the aliens.

jeri's (MC) fic focuses on a case Monica and Doggett bust in connection to Marita. Mulder is in the background being a stay-at-home, mentioned occasionally by Scully: Ahonis (mulderscreek.com) Goss Gossamer | Story: "Ahonis" by jeri 

@aloysiavirgata has a long series about Mulder and Scully parenting a specially-abled Will, ending with mytharc Colonization:

By Falling In and In

LiveJournal 2

LiveJournal 3

LiveJournal 4

LiveJournal 5

Other assorted S9 fics w/ dashes of By Falling In and In are:

A Heart of Star-- Mulder has bonding moments with his growing son

Elysium-- Scully has bonding moments with her son growing up

Mulder Left, Scully Joined-- Mytharc Flavored

touchstona's epic that diverges from your idea only slightly-- Mulder is on the run; but Scully hauls Will out to him with her. The series is long and beautiful, touching on their entire relationship but mostly the wounds of S8 he has yet to address. She also reforms the entire mytharc while only using tools the show's writers gave us. Stunning work:

Part 1/ Amor Fati: Destinata (The Fated Love), Act One: Desiderium (The Longing) - touchstoneaf - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Part 2/ Amor Fati: Destinata (The Fated Love), Act Two: Et Perierat et Inventus Est (The Lost and the Found) - touchstoneaf - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Part 3/ Amor Fati: The Fated Love, Act Three: Tres Discendens (The Leaving of the Three) - touchstoneaf - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Tess (Ao3) and Jacquie LaVa's fic covers Byers escorting Scully and Will to Mulder to Christmas. Mulder convinces her to stay: xfms.xffics.com/stillstillstill.txt Goss Gossamer | Story: "Still, Still, Still" by Tess & LaVa, Jacquie 

Tess also writes about Scully being shoved back to the FBI for resources since Mulder is on the outs. The conspiracy rages on: Gossamer | Story: "The New Truth, A Project 09x00 - Prologue, A New Beginning" by Tess

ML/ML_is_me’s (Ao3, Gossamer, DW, Invidiosa) Slightly off topic-- Scully tracks Mulder down with Will in tow: Gossamer | Story: "155 Words - Thankful" by ML

Does this count? Gillian Leigh's (MC) AU diverts from canon midway? when Mulder gets a vision from his future daughter warning against the adoption. He goes back, packs up Scully, his fam, and hers, and hides out in a civilization bunker. Samantha's there, too: Visitor in the Desert (mulderscreek.com) Goss Gossamer | Story: "Visitor in the Desert" by Leigh, Gillian 

I have more; but this is long enough as it is! XDDDD

Hope these all do somethin' fer ye~!

[prowlingthunder]

desiderium by ProwlingThunder (That's me!)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types Relationship: Original Clone Character(s) & Original Clone Character(s) Characters: Original Clone Character(s), Original Clone Character (CT-3540 | Chrys | Chrysanthemum), Original Clone Character (Alpha-76 | Badger) Additional Tags: Star Wars: the Clone Wars - Freeform, Star Wars Clone Culture, Alternate Universe, AU - Former Jedi Padawan Shmi Skywalker, Trainer Skywalker, Force Sensitive Clones, Clone Trooper Decommissioning (Star Wars) Language: English Series:← Part 2 of children children burning bright, ← Part 3 of Jango Was His Name-O, ← Part 2 of Stars Above, Why Would You Do This Collections: Clone Fandom Original Character Bingo, Bounty Hunters Star Wars Halloween Challenge 2023, Bad Things Happen Bingo

Summary: Orders to head to Sector 8-- the labs-- to 'complete processing,' and no one knew what that was.

Star Wars OC Bingo: Jedi AU (thwarted), School AU (Kamino counts), Re/Decom (narrowly escaped), PTSD, Batchmates, Force Sensitivity, Comfort from a Nightmare (all of Kamino) (@clonefandomevents) Bounty Hunter's Bingo Board: Nightmares Bad Things Happen Bingo: Big Brother Instinct (@badthingshappenbingo)

[mikaharuka]

My Revamped Masterpost!

Heyo y'all! I finally got around to creating this master list!

I'm on AO3 as Mizuka, and am the author of the Winter Light Verse.

Long story short, I had a worldbuilding concept, ended up with the Twilight/Life and Death fandom combo, threw out 98% of canon, and started a rewrite from scratch with totally different lore, history, vampire biology/society, and plot altogether. All while going full gay.

I've also written for other fandoms - most notably, Fire Emblem Three Houses and Ace Attorney. I even started my 'Fandom Odyssey', where I write the occasional fic in other fandoms - fandoms I like, fandoms my friends like, random fandoms, or even, all of the above!

---

Twilight/Life and Death - The Winter Light Verse

Apricity - Twilight Rewrite (M, ~81k words, 14/? chapters)

Mahabhuta - Apricity Interlude (E, ~7.7k words, 1/18 chapters)

Semper Felidae - Apricity Prelude (M, 3k words, 2/2 chapters)

Febris Amatoria - Apricity Kinktober (E, 1.2k words, 2/31 chapters)

Moonglade - Seattle, Beau POV (M, 750 words, 1/4 chapters)

A Series in Hands - Carlisle/Beau-centric fics, 900 words

A Study in Hands (M); An Indulgence in Hands (E);

A Lace in Hands (E); A Flirt in Hands (T); A Delight in Hands (T);

A Question in Series - Edward/Mike-centric fics, 900 words

A Question in Hands (T);

Elegance in the Series - Alice/Mina-centric fics, 900 words

Elegance in the Moonlight (M);

June Colors - Carlisle/Beau-centric color prompt fics

Amber Honey (E); Burgundy Affinity (E);

Winter Light Divergences, Derivatives & AUs

A Mosaic of Parallels - ficlet anthology (varied, index in chapter 1)

Flora Fati - fantasy/isekai, Harlequin (E, ~1.6k words, 1/6 chapters)

Ktêma es Aieí - Apricity time travel AU (T, 7.6k words, 4 chapters)

Danza de las Flores - FF Beaulisle AU, Carine/Bella (M, 1.5k words)

---

Non-Winter Light Twilight/Life and Death

The Sun, Moon, and Stars - Carine/Edythe (M, 900 words)

---

Fire Emblem Three Houses

The Tape - Modern AU Ferdibert smut (E, ~12.3k words)

The Forsaken Throne - BatB Prologue (T, 1.7k words)

Alluvium H - NSFW Ferdibert Zine Fic (E, 1.2k words)

Fusillade Z - NSFW Ferdibert Zine Fic (E, 1.2k words)

In Draconic Harmony - Edelthea, Post-Canon (M, 900 words)

Another Future - Ferdibert and Edelthea Reincarnation, 900 words

Desiderium - Canon-Compliant MCD (M, Ferdibert Part 1 of 3)

Translations of JP FE3H Supports

Hubert/Ferdinand - C-A+, Dining Hall, Group Tasks, Ending Card

Edelgard/Dorothea - C-A, Ending Card

---

Ace Attorney / Gyakuten Saiban (逆転裁判)

Summer Night Verse (Vampire AU)

Relentless Seduction - Narumitsu, mystery/Harlequin (T, 4.1k words)

Ruthless Seduction - Mitsunaru, future world smut (E, 1.5k words)

---

Other Fandoms - Mizuka's Fandom Odyssey

Dracula

A Touch Through Time - Dracula/Jonathan Harker (M, 1k words)

Fire Emblem Awakening

Melle et Felle - Chrom/Robin (E, 1k words)

The Sword and The Flame - Frederick/Robin (M, 1k words)

Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika (PMMM)

The Die is Cast - Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka (M, 900 words)

Persona 3

The Space Between - Arisato Minato/Sanada Akihiko (M, 1k words)

Star Wars / The Mandalorian

Metamorphosis - Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker (M, ~2.2k words, WIP)

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Island of Illusion - Elim Garak/Julian Bashir (M, ~2k words, WIP)

Wednesday

Verdant Victory - Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair (T, 900 words)

---

(see this post for one-word prompt asks for the Winter Light Series!)

(see this post for my multi-fandom, chaotic collection of fics that wonderful authors and friends of mine wrote, based off my prompts!)

Also, I GOT THESE GIFTS! Some are set in the Winter Light Verse!

Anyways... glad to be here and don't be shy!

~Mizuka (or Mika, either is fine by me)

[eddiessluttywaist]

BABES! BABY BABY BABY!!!

Diserdium (I feel like I misspelled that) YOU KNOW I LOVE IT!!

I had an idea, since the reader is kinda eccentric and hippy, SHE HAS TO DO SMALL BRAIDS WITH BEADS IN EDDIES HAIR!! Or like one, with a bunch of crystals for luck and prosperity. And he’s like wtf u doing with that burning stick, and she just goes, because, loogie, we need to cleanse this motor oil smelling birds nest before I let any of my precious crystals mere you.

Omg | need it to survive, like just imagine him coming into the auto shop, Lin and Thatcher just being petty queens and making those lil is she your giiiirlfriend comments, OH MY GOD!

i’m so glad you’re loving the series! (sorry i haven’t updated in forever)

this sounds so cute! i definitely want more moments where she’s just doing her thing and eddie’s like ??? but ofc he’ll go along with it because he’s a fool <3

this is literally eddie:

[sp00kymulderr]

Desiderium

San Valentín part 2

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, Angst angst angst, possessive sex, jealousy, light choking, Javi is a menace and also can’t handle his feelings, dirty talk, love but it’s all kinda fucked up

Word Count: 3k

For months you had convinced yourself the only feelings you had for Javier were carnal; fuelled by those hot Colombian nights and the constant frustration of your job, that it was nothing more than a casual fling for the both of you. But since Valentine’s Day, and the jumble of emotion brought to the forefront in your mind, it has become clear to you that you’re already in way too deep and want far more from this than you ever thought you would.

Even knowing that, things go on the same way for weeks longer; you and Javier, Javier and seemingly every other woman in Bogotá. And each time you swear it’s the last, but then he gives you that look and tells you how much he needs you and before you know it you’re giving yourself over to him once more. Begging him for it again and again, even as you feel how much it blackens your heart to do so. After all, you had known from the beginning that Javier does anything he can for the job, and you promised him you’d wouldn’t let it get to you.

But when you’ve memorised every pattern of the damp-stained ceiling of his bedroom, and what feels like the schedule of half the women in the city you have to do something to get him off your mind. Find a way to stop your heart racing every time he says your name in that quiet, seductive drawl you’ve come to know all too well.

You’re not proud of how you deal with the situation, how you try to get him off your mind. Desperately attempting to shove those feelings back in to the deep, dark Pandora’s box that they were locked in by finding another man who might be able to make you feel as good – specifically Jason, a CIA lackey you’d had drinks with once or twice outside of work before.

Jason isn’t unattractive, and you knew he liked you, he’d made it pretty clear before. You’d always been curious so it’s not exactly a hardship for you to make a move that ends up with him back at your place on a stuffy Thursday night fuelled by too much drink. Sure he isn’t like Javier, but few men are and you’d already known that. When he fucks you it isn’t so desperately passionate, but it’s nice and you’d like that to be enough. 

You hate yourself for wishing it was Javier, every single moment.

Nothing feels right when it isn’t Javier. And unfortunately that’s how you know you love him, and if anything is going to land you in a pit of distress it’s figuring out that you’re in love with your co-worker and the man who’s known in every local brothel.

You’re a fucking idiot. What do you do? What can you do? Javier has always been caring towards you, he gives you attention and affection and makes you feel more wanted than any man ever has. It wouldn’t be impossible that he feels the same way, that he wants more but is too uncertain to ask for it.

If your choices are to be unfulfilled for the rest of your life, or be the first one to confess your feelings you know what you need to do. You have to tell him.

--- The next evening, you find yourself with shaking hands at his door. You have this whole admission memorised, knowing every word you want to tell him. When he opens the door to you and he’s in that black shirt you have to force yourself to concentrate so you don’t forget the entire speech.

Javier looks you up and down with a smirk before letting you in to the apartment, stubbing out his cigarette before he offers you a drink. Your throat feels so dry you gladly accept.

“Heard you had a good time last night” he states matter-of-factly, with what you might consider a hint of jealously in his voice. The walls are thin, but neither of you had exactly been loud so it takes you by surprise that he’d open with that.

“Uh, yeah. I went out for a drink with some of the CIA guys. It was fine” you shrug, not giving anything away. It’s odd, that you feel so guilty about it and you wonder if that’s how Javi feels after his various rendezvous.

“I think Jason might have enjoyed it more than that, saw him leaving this morning looking pretty pleased with himself” he notes in a low voice and bitter, making you shiver despite the heat.

“Oh. Well...yeah, we slept together. It-it was nice” you babble sheepishly, unconvincing.

“But you’re here tonight” Javier reminds you, giving you that look - the one that always gets you in to all kinds trouble. He’s drawing you to him until he’s leaning over you and his lips are almost on yours.

“I’m here” you agree dumbly, goosebumps raising on your skin where his fingers are tracing up your back.

When he kisses you it’s so easy and nice and you melt in to him, letting him deepen it as his hands hold you firm to him. You know straight away tonight isn’t going to go the way you had planned, but you follow his lead unable to stop yourself once he brings out your desire.

He has you immediately, it shouldn’t be a surprise by now. Every time he touches you, you turn to jelly and he can shape you and move you however he wants. He holds so much sway over you when you’re alone together and he knows it. Already removing your clothes, his hands roaming your body and he discards your t-shirt then helps you step out of your pants with your lips only parting for a matter of seconds. You let him guide you and give yourself over to him with no hesitation, desperate for the affection.

The tight grip of his hands on your hips is devastating, he’s so demanding as he pulls you with him on to the ugly old couch that you’ve always hated. Everything is too hot, his touch scorching against your skin until you feel almost dizzy with it. The climate of the small, familiar room is heady, stifling – your breath catching even before he’s got you straddling him and is pushing the flimsy lace fabric of your underwear to one side.

“Did you get this wet for him too?” he murmurs darkly as his fingers begin to explore you, one digit slipping inside you with ease already. You can’t fathom how to answer, the question takes you by surprise and you can’t tell what kind of game he’s trying to play. Thankfully he doesn’t demand a response, instead enjoying the beautiful gasps he’s eliciting from you as he withdraws and finds your clit – circling it so slowly it’s almost frustrating.

It’s difficult to remember how you felt just half an hour ago, when you had been so sure how tonight would go. Your big speech—the whole stupid plan—expelled from your memory as he presses two fingers in this time and curls them inside of you until you’re squirming with delicious pleasure. Javier always manages this so easily it’s embarrassing; turning you in to a speechless wreck with his talented fingers and some well placed kisses against your neck and collarbone, his thumb circling your clit with so little pressure it barely counts at all.

Grinding down against his hand you will him to give you more, letting your eyes do the begging until he obliges you. You tighten your grasp on the back of his neck, arching your back as his thumb presses harsher against your clit and sends tightening shocks to your core. It’s so sinful how this feels, you naked save the forgotten lace and him fully clothed and holding you close as he fucks you with his fingers. His teeth then tongue dragging along your skin, free hand following to pull and pinch at your nipples.

He’s built up a punishing rhythm with his fingers and his thumb, working you until he feels you tense and tighten. He knows you’re close, has seen it enough times by now, and for a moment some cruelty crosses his features that makes you think he’s going to stop. Perhaps if his cock wasn’t so painfully straining in his pants he would, but instead he increases his tempo until you’re arching and moaning his name in to the heavy air.

“That’ right, that’s it” he moans against your skin, lips ghosting across your too-hot flesh “I want you to cum all over my fingers and then clean them up for me while I fuck you. Do you want that? Taste yourself while I fill you up? You’re so beautiful when you come for me - let me see, show me baby”

If you weren’t so close to breaking point you might be taken aback by the filth coming from his mouth, he’s not usually so much of a talker and certainly not like this. But you’d be lying if you said his words didn’t spur you on more and you kiss him hard in some attempt to etch the obscene words in to your memory. You pull back when the orgasm hits, knocking the breath out of you until you’re quivering.

Javi’s fingers work you through it but he doesn’t stop when you do, still rubbing over the now sensitive nub with unabashed determination as his fingers continue to hit against that perfect spot. It’s too much but, christ, it could never be enough.

“Fuck, Javi” you gasp, not even finished with the first when another wave of pleasure submerges you and leaves you crying out for him – eyes squeezed shut so tight you feel a tear slide down your cheek. The second orgasm lands quicker than the first but leaves you dazed and motionless against him save your heaving chest and thumping heart so loud to you it could wake the dead.

Wet fingers trail your thighs as he manhandles you on to your knees, pulling your underwear off of you and letting you collapse against the arm of the couch for a moment as he positions himself behind you. You don’t have to tell him how much you need it, pushing back against him with a whimper when he rubs himself against you, coating his cock in your slick.

“Ple-” your voice is hoarse, more a moan than an actual word coming out of you. “Please, Javi. I need you, I fucking need you inside me right now. Please” you whine, and oh it spurs him on.

You don’t get to finish whatever string of supplications you were about to start, instead whimpering quietly as he pushes easily in to you and slowly, achingly fills you with his thick length to the hilt. He’s taking his time and you can’t decide if it’s to torture you or just so he can take as much pleasure from you as possible. Damned if you care at this point.

When he stills to let you both get reacquainted with the feel of him filling you so well, he brings an arm around you and guides you up until your back hits his chest. His breath lands hot on your neck, placing a rough kiss against your salty skin and letting his lips trail up and over the back of your ear as he starts to move his hips tortuously languidly – making you feel every inch of him pressing in to you. You’re already seeing stars when he taps his fingers against your mouth until you take them in, letting you taste yourself on him. The whole act is so lascivious and indecent, but it feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Does anyone else make you feel like this, fuck you like this? Did he make you beg the way you do for me?” He questions, speaking right against your ear and pulling you harder against his chest, locking you there with a strong arm as his thrusts up in to you with increasing fervour.

God, you can barely think but that pulls you in to some more lucid state for a moment. Is he serious? Asking you that. You think he’s getting off on it, thinking of you with another man and then asking you to confess your sins to him. You don’t entirely want to give in to his game, but you’d never be able to deny it doesn’t turn you on a little too much. If the unfathomable roll of his hips wasn’t making you feel so delirious, maybe you’d have more sense than to answer him the way you do.

“Javi, no one else comes close to you-” you gasp out as he roughly gropes your breasts and his other hand presses against your stomach, making a slow trail downwards “You make me feel- feel so so good.” You moan out as he thrusts so hard in to you now that your legs are beginning to shake.

When Javier brings his fingers back to your overstimulated clit, you lose yourself entirely. He could make you recount every single moment of last nights tryst and you would willingly do so and then you’d beg him for forgiveness. Any self control you might’ve had to take back the power that is so obviously in his hands perishes the moment he moans your name against your ear and you beg him never to stop.

“You make me lose my mind” you whisper, not even sure if he can hear it. It’s the most simple truth, you’re not in control of yourself any more.

He doesn’t respond, lost in his own pleasure as he grunts and groans behind you when you tighten around him as he continues to do his best to divert you from reality completely. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, that’s the thing that finishes you off and whatever you were going to cry out in that moment merely comes out as a serious of incoherent whines and whimpers.

“fuck that’s it, come for me just like that. Just for me” he groans as you come down from the heavens.

For a minute your vision goes blurry at the edges as he changes his tempo again, and his fingers are still on your clit just pressing there. You wonder if he’s actually trying to destroy you for a minute, but then he’s tensing up and pushing completely in to you. He finishes inside of you, holding you so tight you can’t feel anything other than him until he’s emptied every last drop in you, and then finally you’re both collapsing together on to the pillows beneath you.

Even if you could find your voice, you wouldn’t know what to say. Javier mutters some obscenity in Spanish as he pulls out of you but nothing more, and you’re glad that he doesn’t let you go – instead draping his arm over you and kissing your shoulder softly. It’s so peaceful, lying there in his arms, that you almost forget the turmoil still ongoing in your mind for the 15 minutes that it takes for you both to get your breathing back to normal and regain some feeling in your body.

He’s gently pushing aside the hair stuck to your forehead when you finally bring yourself to speak.

“Javi that was.... I don’t think I can move”

“Don’t, stay here” he murmurs, voice so soft you’re taken aback by it. How can he go from being so demanding of you to so gentle in just a moment?

You turn to face him and he looks calm, relaxed, happy to have you with him.

This has to be your moment, right? The way he looks at you right now seems to mirror the way he makes you feel, like you’ve got something to live for. You run your fingers over his cheek and along his jaw, taking in his handsome face and for-once untroubled demeanour – this is how you always want to see him.

You have to say it, this is the right time.

“I think I love you, Javi” you whisper your admission shyly, eyes meeting his and a soft smile on your lips “I think we should try...to make a go of things”

Javier’s expression changes in an instant. He sighs, breaking your eye contact and then he’s sitting up away from you.

“I just- I hated myself last night, it didn’t feel right” you scramble, “Like it should have been you not him and I always want it to be you...” you follow suit, sitting and immediately feeling so horribly exposed as he does everything he can to not meet your eyes. 

“Javi?”

He hangs his head, murmuring your name with such disappointment that anger bubbles up and you feel a rush of heat to your face - you stand to find and pull on your clothes, whole body vibrating with embarrassment. How could you have read the situation so absurdly wrong?

“Don’t do this, we’ve got a good thing going and you know it can’t be more than that” he tells you with so little emotion in his voice that you feel tears start to sting in your eyes,

Snatching your t shirt that had been flung to the other side of the couch, you try to keep some semblance of balance in your voice when you speak again.

“But we were so- I thought you cared about me. You were so...so- I thought you cared? And what? You don’t want me?”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.

He shakes his head and whether you imagine the pained look in his eyes is unclear, but when he answers you know everything is screwed and as selfish as it makes you, you wish you’d kept your stupid mouth shut

“No. I’m sorry”

So that’s how Javier Peña breaks your heart.

[too-lit-for-fanfic]

Desiderium, Masterlist

Desiderium - an ardent longing, as for something lost.

*Follow tag Desiderium for story updates*

Prologue

Part 1 - Callosity

Part 2 - Magoa

Part 3 - Lacuna

Part 4 - coming soon

*temporarily on hiatus due to exam season and another developing fic*

[unknownspecies]

Does it make it worse or better to know that Desiderium is based off a true story 🧍‍♀️ lol

I’m glad you like it though <3

It doesnt (?) make it worse or better tbh?… or maybe both? Its worse in the sense that it happened and that she grieves so badly but at the same time the fact that it has so many parts, im assuming, that it means it gets better for both parties? Even if its ongoing, it gets better iver time. Maybe im thinking about this wrong but 🤷‍♀️. I hope ur doing okay tho 😭😭

I do enjoy this storyline though. Your writing makes everythign amazing. I liked the body/word analysis in part one for “when vs if” how something so trivial as a word can determine the duture of a relationship.

How in pt 2, even tho she tries to move on by keeping busy, she still hurts. And that even tho she tries to convice oikawas friends that she’s tired, its really the truth. Only that she isnt tired in the sense that she’s trying to lie to them (physically) but rather emotionally (iygwim).

Then part three we see opposites. How in this case, the opposite of something is not its inverse, but rather its absence (in this case love)

😭 i hope ur doing ok keep it up kaze

[airic-fenn]

Hello hello! I figured a master post would be a good idea, so here we go!

I’m the author of The Dreamer and the Marked, the first book in The Arai Chronicles, a dark portal fantasy series. I’m currently working on book 2, The Curse of Orias.

Buy it Here

In TDATM we meet Krystal as she follows the stranger, Draqa, to the realm of Arai after he tells her she’s part fae. Only after arriving does she realize that this isn't quite the adventure she expected and she must travel with her unwilling companion to find her remaining family. Meanwhile, unrest is growing within the realm between the fae and the humans who live there.

Be prepared for desiderium, shades of grey and lots of regret and pining.

You can find my list of content warnings here. If you have a concern about encountering any specific content or triggers, feel free to hit up my ask box or the contact page on my website.

Apart from The Arai Chronicles, I have various other projects in the works:

One is a gay, folk horror novella.

A priest discovers that the pagan woodsman at the edge of his village might not be human. *cue squidward “oh no he’s hot” meme*

Silver in the Wood x Apostle

One is a YA horror fantasy.

After the unnatural murder of their friend, a teen discovers there is more hiding in their dad’s hometown than just secrets.

WTNV but in the mountains and scarier

A couple fantasy comic and book related things in collab with a friend & fellow artist.

An (almost) guaranteed way to keep up to date on any of my projects is to sign up for my newsletter. I wont pester you much, I dont have the time or energy for the monthly newsletter thing.

Im also an illustrator and do some occasional commissions. For more info on those you can check out my commissions page on my ko-fi.

(Divider by @mmadeinheavenn )

[persieee-yoohoo]

Desiderium Part 2

Pair: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 977

Warnings: spoilers for CC HoSaB (let me know about anything else)

Note: no thoughts, just azriel

also available: ao3

Read Part 1: Here

Azriel

Azriel thought he had been blinded by how fast he was abandoned inside the dreamscape. One moment there was the harsh and beautiful sight of a starlit figure, and the next there was nothing. No trace of light remained in the wake of your disappearance, and Azriel had to take a calming breath while his eyes adjusted to the stark contrast.

Wherever he was, it wasn’t a physical place. There weren’t any barriers either, no expansive fortresses of his mind’s shield or anyone else’s to suggest a mental invasion. Nothing. There was just an infinite void and a lonely armchair.

The chair was a twin to some piece of furniture from the Townhouse, something familiar that Azriel unconsciously pleaded for in the moments following the bright figure’s release from his shadowy grip. He hadn’t expected himself to think twice about letting someone who very well may have been an enemy drop to the ground, but there had been the briefest tug in the back of his chest to avoid that.

Azriel regretted it, of course, since only moments after his kind effort between opposing figures, the flashing beacon attempted an attack towards him. He barely even had the time to react before the light blinked out, vanishing alongside the mysterious figure. It left him alone, and Azriel couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not.

When Azriel lurched awake, any hope for peace to find clarity from his mind was ruined at the frenzied chitter of his shadows. They swarmed him, blocking out the moonlight from outside his window, and trapped him in a bubble of their own making.

“Go back.”

“Find them.”

“Don’t tell.”

The demands of his shadows were deafening, leading the shadowsinger to swat them away. As they repeated their countless demands in a mantra of varied pitches, Azriel found his way off the plush bed so he could reach towards the door. Despite whatever his shadows thought he could physically do about the summons that pulled him from a dreamless sleep towards you, his family could help. His brothers could help. Rhys could help. But still, he hesitated with his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

His brother was already overwhelmed with their other guest, tending to the strange redhead with his mate at the House of Wind, trying to learn more of her archaic language to communicate. Azriel didn’t want to burden his high lord with yet another mystery, especially one that could’ve just been his imagination.

“Don’t tell.”

His shadows hissed towards him again and Azriel gave in. His shoulders hunched over and he rested his forehead against the solid material of the wooden door. Azriel was tired, but his body urged him into action rather than back to his bed. He knew that even if he tried, sleep wouldn’t find him again that night.

Instead of falling back into the inviting silk sheets of his bed that were already starting to cool from his absence, he walked to where he kept his leathers and pulled on a pair.

Azriel had every intention of skipping out on family dinner that night, armed with enough excuses if he was questioned, but he'd been strong-armed by Feyre's attempt at mimicking Elaine’s doe-eyed look. She’d left no room his excuses when her talons scraped against his mental shield and her plea for his attendance that night was voiced past the antechamber he allowed her into. For good measure, she even pushed through an image of puppy dog eyes.

The high lady knew that the shadowsinger would forfeit his defense and answer her summoning, but he grumbled to himself anyways as he landed on the terrace. Tucking his membranous wings behind him as he walked towards his awaiting family, already drinking and talking amongst themselves inside.

It was going to be a long night.

“I don’t know.”

The accented drawl of their guest pulled Azriel away from his own mental stewing, his head snapping right to where she sat across the table beside Feyre. To Bryces’s (idk word), she didn't even flinch as the brooding male’s attention latched right onto her and the words that she spoke, words that before had only been understood by Amren and Rhysand.

“What did she say? Just now.” Azriel tried not to stumble over his words, but they were the exact ones he heard the mass of light speak.

Rhysand stilled with his cup nearly to his lips and carefully looked between their guest and his brother. While he hadn’t heard much from Az in days, he chalked it up to any mission he was working on. Rhys didn’t think to question the shadowsinger on his withdrawal from the family, especially since he was prone to bouts of quietness time to time. “Why?”

“Just— humor me. Please.”

“She said that she doesn’t know. ‘I don’t know.’ That’s what she said.” At that point, all eyes were on Az. Mor even placed a hand on his shoulder, but Azriel just shrugged it off and stood up from the table.

Azriel knew he should say something, anything that would ease the worried looks aimed his way, but he couldn’t. He just let his shadows circle around him and winnowed floors below to the library. There had to be something amongst the ancient stacks that would help in the language barrier between himself and you. Whoever you were, Azriel didn’t think that it was a coincidence your native tongue was the same of Bryce’s, but he wasn’t ready yet to share the knowledge of you. There were too many unknowns and he needed to figure out how to communicate effectively if there was a chance you’d come face to face again.

Next Part