#she foams BEAUTIFULLY

[queer-crusader]

Coconut barista milk superior 🥳🥳

[amabeeze3al]

Y'ALL why the FUCK are the Mappa animators showing of the CORPSE of a DEAD FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL like teenage boys show off their Bugattis on tiktok. They got her ass at EVERY angle. They even added an INTERNAL SHOT from inside her popped fuckin' eyesocket PLEASE.

Mappa really dropped this at our feet like a cat brings dead fucking birds. That's the energy this emits. They're so proud of themselves.

If you REALLY want to dig in they even added "that one random item that's here for some reason that has literally nothing to do with cars but why not". Like people will just. Set their cat or a bottle of some expensive fancy brand of alcohol on top of their car and have a shot of it for. . . I don't know? An attention grab or something, EXEPT THE RANDOM ITEM IS JUST HER EYEBALL AFTER IT GOT SUPER SOAKERED OUT OF HER HEAD?? That's VILE man. This shit requires a life sentence MINIMUM. DAMN.

And then they have the AUDACITY to tease us that she might come back. I'VE SEEN THE NEW MANGA CHAPTERS they are NOT bringing her ass back (unless they pull a SIKE at the very end or something but come ON) but he looks so HOPEFUL I'm SICK.

GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU-

[storiesoflilies]

poseidon!suguru was a breathtaking vision of the boundless beauty and splendor of the seas he ruled over.

she was staring at him now, beached upon the shoreline; leaning back lazily in the sun with his ink-black hair carelessly cascading down his bare back. his skin was beautifully bronzed, with water droplets tracing the chiseled ridges of his body as they dripped down onto the sand. his lower half was hidden beneath the teal waves, a strong mauve tail occasionally flicking above the surface.

the god was perfectly serene, like the soft lap of waves gently breaking against an anchored ship. how could this be the very same being whose wrath was known to mercilessly drown hundreds of sailors and ravage seaside towns?

with his eyes closed, he tilted his head in her direction, a long strand of wet hair brushing against the sand. “i sense you, mortal. do not be shy, you may approach me.”

she hesitated, then tepidly tiptoed towards the god of the seas. as she approached, he cracked open an eyelid, a lilac eye peeking out like a glimpse of a pearl in an oyster, taking her in. perhaps it was foolish to have been spying on him, but she couldn’t help it. it wasn’t often that he was known to reveal himself, being an elusive and slippery god at the best of times.

“what are you hiding behind your back there, sweet little thing?” he asked so very sweetly, as soft as sea foam, a beautiful, easy smile gracing his features.

with her lip bitten, and reconsidering all her life choices that led her to this very moment, she kneeled before him and presented her gift as an offering, holding it in outstretched palms. it was a necklace made of seaglass, a mosaic of blues and purples, with white shells dotted between them like gems.

he reached out to touch the necklace, humming happily, his still-wet fingers brushing hers, sending a sensation as if she were incredibly warm and then suddenly doused with a bucket of cold seawater. she was even more surprised when the god placed the necklace over his head and slid it onto his graceful neck.

“what a wonderful gift,” he complimented smoothly, his eyes of purple coral gazing at her with an almost detached sort of adoration. “and what, pray tell, would a loyal follower of the sea wish to ask of me?”

she gulped. “n-nothing at all. only the honor of being in your company, great ruler of the seas.”

the god’s eyes widened playfully, and the waves beat a touch faster against the shore as a mischievous glint sparked deep within his irises. the deep purple fins of his tail broke the surface of the sea as the whole appendage slowly rose out of the water, curling backwards towards his face, his toned abdomen flexing deliciously.

“you seem quite interesting,” he mused, the corner of his lip curling upwards, as the tip of his tail fin touched the edge of her mouth somewhat affectionately. “i think i will visit you more often.”

she didn’t know whether to be scared, exhilarated, or both.

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[cvnt4him]

i would request monoma x reader bc I'm literally going crazy about him but idk-- OMG NVM MONOMA X KIND/SOFT READER

BITCH ME TOO WHEN I TELL YOU HE FR GOT ME FOAMING OUT THE MOUTH LIKE IM A RABID ASS DOGGGG.

You know you wrong as hell for that picture tho.. bc why he look so goofy, bones js doing my man wrong this season😞

...........................................

*˖°My heart.°˖*

...........................................

"I don't get what you even see in him, my love."

Mina scolds as she finishes crocheting your last butterfly loc into your hair.

It was 4 AM, you both had school in a couple hours and she had been doing your hair since 12 o'clock. Your head was pounding and was going to be throbbing for the next week. You can only imagine how bad it'll be once you put your hair into a ponytail...

You sigh from relief knowing that was the last braid you had to endure. She puts muse all over your hair, the soft yet cold air like foam covering your hair as she gently slides her hands down each braid costing it in the pleasant and calming scented hair applicator.

You stand and stretch deciding to just put your bonnet on without putting your hair up so you can just head straight to bed, not that you'd get much sleep since school started in like what less than an hour and a half? What's the point in even trying to sleep.

"he makes me laugh. he's a gentleman, he--"

"gentleman my ass."

She cuts you off with a scoff straightening up all of the things she used to do your hair, putting them away and washing the icky foam texture off of her hands.

"okay first of all, don't you ever in your life; he's a sweetheart, really he is. and I don't need you questioning my choices, you're like a sister to me so please for the love of God just fucking trust my choices for once, yeah?"

She hums and rolls her eyes putting her bonnet on and getting under her leopard printed covers. She sighs and wishes you a good night as you leave and head back to your dorm.

All you could think about while getting ready for school was how rude mina was. Sure he was quite unpleasant to your classmates but he's a sweet guy to you!! Well no.. he's just less of an asshole. You noticed that Everytime he would say some smartsss remark to your peers he wouldn't say anything even remotely bad to you. He wouldn't even look at you. It's like there was something about you that just made him go silent.

The way you looked at him however, that was a game changer. He would get all stuttery over his words and just get flustered to the point he'd live without kendo needing to assist. (Knocking his hardheaded ass out)

You figured he had a crush on you which you were completely alright with due to you reciprocating his feelings! He was so beautiful and rather charming in his own way. He was distinguished and quite dashing!!!

You had no idea how people could just say such mean things to him!!

You finish off your look with a silver necklace that makes everything pop so beautifully. Your many rings matching indefinitely. You wore a white turtle neck and a pastel pink plaid skirt with white opaque tights on underneath. Baby pink Mary Jane's accompanying your soft aesthetic.

Being in college was fun for you, the party's the sleepovers the random socks on other people's dorm handles. It was an interesting experience, one of the greatest parts about it was how you could wear whatever you wanted! No dress code, no uniforms just your own unique style!

You walked with a sway to your hips as you made it to your class, to your surprise seeing how there were different students there than normal.

You look around and see groans and laughter coming from somewhere, you turn your head out the classroom door to see some of your friend and peers angry and uncomfortable whilst a manically laughing monoma boasts about something.

Mina sees you and lights up nodding her head in monomas direction telling you in girl talk or whatever the fuck to "get your fucking man before I have kirishima walk him like a damn dog."Her eyes saying more than enough.

You chuckle which catches others attention, including monomas. He turns with a raised brow to see you, his eyes widening and a pinky tint slightly becoming visible on his features.

"hello, neito."

He clears his throat and turns to you dusting off his outfit and giving you a small grin looking to the ground, unable to hold eye contact.

"hi y/- ahem. Y/n."

His voice cracked whilst he tried saying your name instantly making him get flustered and asking a loud and entertained kirishima have a belly laugh.

Monomas turns to them and instantly shouts at them calling them "Imbeciles" and "incompetent losers" and such, the way he spoke with such sophisticated mannerisms was just amusing to you, even while arguing and being angry with people he disliked he still manages to not use foul language and be somewhat civilized. It's quite neat.

You giggle catching his attention again, he turns to you and bows his head lightly with a smile as an apology.

"what are you up to, neito?"

You ask with a tilt to your head.

"who me?! I- uhm-- y'know the usual, classes are just taking over my brain at the moment, haha!"

He jokes, making you giggle again. God you were so cute to him, the way you innocently giggled or laughed at anything, the way you dressed to adorably like an innocent little girl was oddly compelling to him.

"i see you've gotten your hair done. It looks very nice, y/n."

He says to you nodding his head to your hair, the way you had little sparkles raying off of it and how you had little star shaped clips in your locs just completes your outfit.

"awh thank you neito!! You're so sweet!"

You jump into his arms with a hug, snuggling your nose into his shirt. He blushed intensively, getting stiff and tense underneath your touch. You did such foul things to him, making him flustered and blushy like this. He never felt this way for anyone, he always wanted to be a hero and show everyone that he was just as capable of doing things his former class rivals could.

He slowly wrapped his arms around your shorter figure leaning his head down and resting it on your head, his nose burying itself into your locs and smelling the sweet smell radiating off of them.

It was an unfamiliar smell to him, yet it was so intoxicatingly sweet. Like he'd smelled it before, or like it was just something he couldn't resist. A smell he was sure he wanted to take over his senses all the time. For the rest of his life even.

The hug lasted quite some time, an angry kirishima faux clearing his throat to end the long hug. Mina rolled her eyes and nudged him, she didn't like monoma really, but if you had then she'd just have to thug that shit out. For your sake.

You pulled away first, having monoma realize where he was, which was not in a perfect mansion with a beautiful rose garden, white picket fence, and a golden retriever running around with happy and cheerful barks.

He looks down at you ass you peer up at him with beautiful eyes, the way they shine so brightly even without sunlight raying into them, the way you bat your eyelashes at him and smile innocently.

He blushed while staring deep into your eyes. Fuck he'd just imagined a whole entire life with you, making you his wife and you have his kids.

You were evil and putting him under your spell. Your evil, wicked, enchanting, perfect, beautiful, absolutely breathtaking spell. Wait what?!

He got flushed and hid his face with his hand as he looked away, his other hand still on your waist.

You put one of your hands on his neck causing him to snap his neck to look right back to your face. You look down at his chest and rub your other hand up and down it and slowly look back up to him. You smile and move your hand that was once in his neck to his flushed cheek.

He wss going to kiss you. Fuck he was actually going to kiss you, finally, after having a huge crush on you for all these years you were going to kiss him. He'd finally make you his!

"AHEM. So yeah uh, we have to get to class, right y/n? Wouldn't want kids to catch you guys Frenching in the middle of the hallway while classes are in right? Right?"

Kirishima interrupts, making up an excuse to get you away from him.

Mina face palms herself while pulling kirishima away from the two of you. Monoma watching while he gives kirishima an evil, shit eating grin. Kirishima was practically foaming out of the mouth like a raccoon with rabies.

You simply giggle before letting him go. No no no, that's not what was supposed to happen! Why'd you let him go?!

"he's right, we should get to class."

You say quietly, never taking a step back still being rather close to him, peering up at him with wide eyes and offering him a smile.

He sighs and looks away. He was extremely disappointed. Why'd that shitty shark toothed fucker have to get in his way? You were finally going to kiss him.

"but, we can hang out later, if you'd like."

"yes!-- I uhm.. yes, I would like that, if you would."

He answers quickly, before stumbling on his words and saving himself from eternal embarrassment, not that toud ever make fun of him. He was cute, and flushy. Most people didn't get to see him like that not even kendo. You were honored and wnsted to spend more time with him. So you agreed. The two do you made plans and agreed to meet and have lunch, he'd take you to see a movie and you'd go out on dinner dates.

He had so many plans for the two of you. And once you start dating you better believe you're not allowed to be around anyone without him, not that he's jealous.. he's jealous. He's so jealous, he hates anyone that's not him being in your presence. He loves you! More than anything and anyone.

He holds you with grace, being so gentle with you throughout everything. Making sure you don't have tod I anything, not lift a single finger. He holds you tight at night making you feel safe and warm. He loves matching with you, and eating with you, and doing anything to ensure everyone knows you're his. He isn't insecure or anything but he's not oblivious to the rather hot people that swarm your school. He has a hard time reassuring himself that you only have eyes for him!

You're so kind and nice to everyone it's hard to believe you're his girlfriend. Seriously, no one believes you two, but you are. You're his and he's yours. No doubt about it, he'd choose you over the world.

He loves showing you off, boasting and bragging about how cute you are, how you're his girlfriend and how no one can ever even compare to you. How your skin glows in the sunlight without any help. How you're so strong and are better than anyone who ever existed. You can be a bit of an airhead at times, he even teases you about it, but let someone dare say some shit about you, he's ready to throw words. Something tells me hes not the best at hand to hand combat..

Anyways, he loves you dearly, he makes sure to tell you constantly. He doesn't want you feeling like you're less than perfect. He has standard, rather high ones too, and you meet them to a tee.

...........................................

AN: this is x black!reader bc I js got my hair done and I've become kinda obsessed w him so. Yeah!!! I'm definitely making more monoma and tenya content bc they've recently been clouding my head. Anyways love laugh love monoma!!!

This is kind of all over the place so come back later for more and much better content including him.

[saturnville]

the man in the suit.

pairing: miguel galindo x afro latina fem oc (eliana)

prompt: miguel becomes infatuated with eliana, the owner of a popular coffee shop in town.

an: I was asked to bring back the Miguel Galindo fics by an anon. it's been over two years since I've written anything Mayans, but I'm always willing to revisit old fandoms, so, here we go, I hope you enjoy.

Her coffee shop was a staple in the town. Known for the rich Colombian coffee beans ground with intentionality, brewed with love, and served in mugs crafted by her own hands. The aura was always calm. Busy, but never so much that guests couldn't enjoy their time. They, just like she often, would get lost in the melodies of indie music that played from the speakers and drunk off caffeine and oat milk. The Tranquil Lounge was a blessing to Santo Padre.

Saturdays were the busiest days in the Lounge. College students stopped by to grind out assignments due the following day at midnight, entrepreneurs chugged coffee like water to finalize funding proposals, and others snuggled by the window with a good book. They were lively and invigorating; her favorite days in the shop.

She danced around her employees, humming a Marc Anthony tune as she topped off a cup with cold foam. Vivir mi vida, la, la, la, la, she hummed to herself.

"I'm very impressed. Most people don't know the lyrics passed the chorus," said an unfamiliar voice. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled softly. Her head still down, she placed a lid on the cup and slid it to the other side of the counter.

"I consider myself determined when it comes to learning song lyrics," she replied. "What can I get you?" Finally, she lifted her head, and she struggled to fight the instinct to gasp. How had he found her little coffee shop in town?

Miguel Galindo was notorious in Santo Padre. A businessman with illegal practices. The government hated him, men envied him, and women wanted him. Everyone in Santo Padre knew who he was and they knew better than to cross him. Their families could end up missing within hours if they upset him. It should have struck fear in her heart, but his presence did the opposite.

Her eyes scanned his attire. Bold of him to wear a white suit to drink coffee. But, it looked beautiful against his olive complexion. It was perfectly tailored to hug his broad shoulders. Her eyes followed its outline.

His brown eyes scanned the beautifully curated menu behind her. Bright colors against the blackboard. Sunflowers, rainbows, and bees decorated the menu. Creative, he noted. "I'll do a hot caramel macchiato. Medium, please." He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She halted. The drink was $4.

Miguel looked unamused when she parted her lips to object, so she simply took the bill from his hand and thanked him with a smile. "Enjoy, hope to see you back soon."

He nodded. His eyes dropped to her nametag. Eliana, Founder. "Thank you, Eliana. You have a good day, quierda."

She smiled bashfully, "Gracias. You too."

-

Miguel Galindo was enamored by her. He saw the silhouette of her figure when he closed his eyes to rest at night. He heard the southern twang of her accent as he listened to music on the radio, and he saw the richness of her eyes in the mounds of chocolate chips scattered in Christopher's pancakes.

He made frequent appearances at the shop after that. Catching her friendly grin and gentle hands as she passed his cup to him was one of the few highlights of his day. He cherished it, craved it, and adored it.

He felt lucky when he waltzed into the shop one Saturday morning to find it empty. He thought it was a slow day, but she'd closed it for cleaning. And rather than turning him away, she welcomed him in.

"Your usual?" Eliana questioned. She propped her broom against a stable surface and turned to move behind the counter. "On the house."

"Oh no," Miguel waved. "You're not even open, I see." It was Eliana's turn to force an object into his hands. His usual--hot caramel macchiato; medium with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cup.

"You keep me in business, Mr. Galindo," Eliana replied teasingly with a smile. She was so pretty to him. The woman with a mahogany complexion and soft eyes with an unexplainably gentle aura.

Miguel's eyes dropped to the floor as he chuckled bashfully. He had a tendency to pay more than was due, but he credited it as paying in advance for future visits. "I just like to support where I can." Eliana picked up her broom and hummed, instructing him to get comfortable in the cushioned chairs near the window.

His eyes scanned the marvelous artwork that decorated the dark walls. Murals of people parading in fields of palm trees with drums, colorful skirts, and baskets of fruits, vegetables, and grains. They were all of deep complexion. His eyebrow rose.

"Where are you from?" He found himself asking.

"Costa Chica of Guerrero. Mexico." The area where Black Mexicans were the most populated.

"Tu familia?" Your family?

Eliana shrugged a shoulder and bent over to sweep the dirt unto the dustpan. "En México. Conseguí una beca para estudiar aquí. Se graduó con un título en negocios y decidió quedarse. It's a long story." In Mexico. I got a scholarship to study here. I graduated with my business degree and decided to stay.

Miguel mimicked her actions and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I've got the time if you do."

-

They were polar opposites. She was an extrovert, he was introverted. She loved the fall, yet he found it one of the sadder seasons. Tea was her favorite, though she owned a coffee shop, but coffee was his holy grail. He grew up without his father present, but hers was her rock. So many new discoveries that he basked in like warm comforters on a winter day.

“I enjoyed today,” Miguel said as he walked her to her car. Hours had passed, the sun had set, and their day had come to a close. “I’d like to see you again.”

Eliana hummed as she tapped her key fob. Her vehicle chirped excitedly. She reached for the door handle, but Miguel beat her to it. She thanked him gently and slid into the seat. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Miguel.”

He chuckled and nodded. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but. he liked that. Effort was required. He liked a challenge.

“I do,” he replied. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Be safe tonight, Eliana.”

Her brown eyes are twinkled with curiosity. She stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Wear a white suit.” And with that, she started her car and sped off into the night, leaving Miguel to bask in the eagerness of seeing her again.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Avatar of Ruin" - BurningCheese Short #3

Got inspired while playing through Beast Raid and watching the little story cutscenes. There's an implication that Burning Spice is keeping tabs on Golden Cheese as she traverses Beast-Yeast, so I figured that, with this in mind, it stands to reason that he would've witnessed this particular event as well.

Also, fuck Expert Mode. Expert Mode can go suck rotten eggs. Give me the goddamn axe accessory already

'So that's what it looks like...'

Staring back at Burning Spice from within the misty reflection of his mirror was... something. Some great and terrible creature. Some snarling, spitting, red-faced, hulking monstrosity. A bizarre amalgamation of body parts that had no business being anywhere near each other. Tiger teeth, tiger paws, bird and pig feet. Golden armor plating on those far-too-big arms haphazardly stitched to its sides. A plume of scarlet feathers sprouting from its neck and pouring down its golden breastplate. Three heads: a boar on its right, a bird on its left, a tiger in the center - all wild-eyed and practically foaming at every mouth. And a long, tough pangolin tail protruding from its backside, as a final hideous touch.

The Wild Spices of old created this thing in Burning Spice's image, eh? He had no choice but to commend such unique artistry - and the spice-fueled madness he knew drove them to sculpt it in the first place. Fear, dread, aimless fury; he could sense all of these and more rolling off of the creature in waves, even through his mirror. Even on his throne, within his palace, so many miles away. He cared nothing for gestures of worship anymore; all empty and meaningless, as all life was without a touch of destruction and chaos to alleviate its monotony. But he could grant his approval towards this one, however... inaccurate it was, with regards to his appearance (he was much more handsome, for one). It was entertaining to watch. Very entertaining, indeed.

More entertaining still were the reactions of the spice warriors in its path. One ear-splitting bellow (or he had to assume; the mirror offered no sound) from the mouth of the tiger and the warriors cowered and flinched. One stomp of its feet and they all scattered, scrambling for refuge behind the surrounding rocks, desperate to put as much distance between them and what would likely go on to haunt their dreams forever as possible. One of the saffron buffalo scouts tripped while he fled and fell face first into the dirt - and Burning Spice laughed at him, harder than he's laughed at anything in a long time. He ought to command the Wild Spices to create more of these living tributes to his greatness, just so he can wake them up and watch them terrorize them all some more.

But his eyes eventually drifted away from the fool squirming in the dirt and back towards the monster. To the person standing just before it. The cruel, mocking grin he wore softened, melting into a dreamy smile.

Most entertaining of all was the beautiful little bird standing her ground against the creature, raising her spear towards it in stone-faced defiance.

On one side of her was the elder kulfi, his eyes wide and dark with worry; on the other, her hooded subordinate, an eerie purple flame crackling within the eye of his staff. He seemed apprehensive, confused... but resolute nevertheless. Ready and willing to follow his queen's lead.

Burning Spice's smile faltered for a moment, but quickly returned when he saw Golden Cheese take a strong step forward and adopt a fighting stance. None of those fools mattered. They weren't worth a single blink of his eye. His true entertainment would come from this monster, this demon, this affront to creation itself, and its battle against the little bird who dared to challenge its power.

She fought beautifully. Gracefully. With such elegance and poise, and such precise brutality in perfect contrast, that it dazzled him. Her subordinate fought alongside her, casting spells and landing a hit or two of his own - but Burning Spice didn't care about that. Magic was a coward's tool. No, he cared about the way Golden Cheese flew all around the monster's head and body, weaving through the gaps and flapping her wings in such a way as to try to disorient it. Every hard swing of the flaming swords it brandished was met with either swift evasion or an expert parry. Stabs and thrusts would follow each and every time. Carving into its flesh. Tearing holes in its armor, dismantling it little by little. Blood and smoke gushed from each and every wound, its movements growing more erratic and easy to counter as it slowly succumbed to its injuries.

Eventually, it collapsed, crumpling to the ground with a thud that sent a light shockwave through the earth. The hooded man knelt a ways away, panting, using his staff to maintain his balance - and Golden Cheese stood atop the monster's corpse, digging her foot straight into a gash in its temple and raising her spear triumphantly.

Burning Spice chuckled. 'Woman after my own heart...'

The spice warriors - the ones that stuck around - slowly came out of hiding and gazed upon the mutilated remains of that dreaded beast in shock and awe. A cloud of smoke suddenly enveloped its body, shrouding both it and Golden Cheese; a moment later, it dissipated releasing her back into the world... and with her, in her hand, a single red pepper. And nothing else at all.

Had it been fashioned entirely from this one pepper? Was that all that lay waiting within the depths of its fractured soul? Disappointing.

Golden Cheese stood tall and proud, beaming at all those who now surrounded her. She raised the pepper high for them to see; what she said to them, he couldn't tell, but even so, he could sense her overwhelming confidence. She must be giving them a heroic speech of some sort, if the relaxing of their postures and the looks of cautious relief - and joy, if anyone of them dared to admit it - told him anything.

Was Burning Spice upset that this monument to his power had been destroyed so easily? Absolutely.

Was Burning Spice furious at the spice warriors, both those who threw down their weapons and fled, and those who stayed and cowered while their enemy dealt with their problems for them? Beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Was he still deeply impressed with Golden Cheese's effort? Did he still enjoy himself watching her smite this abomination? Did his heart skip a beat when she thrust her spear into its throat, strong and determined, dealing the killing blow?

Was Burning Spice still completely, utterly smitten with her? Even more so now, after bearing witness to the great battle prowess he'd always known she possessed?

Fuck yes.

He reached over and touched the mirror, lovingly tracing the outline of Golden Cheese's face with his finger. He kept lingering on her lips, on her smile. That gorgeous, radiant smile.

To the victor go the spoils... And a single little pepper simply wouldn't do, now would it? Burning Spice will happily rectify this, and soon. Very, very soon.

He'll give her a real showdown. Put her skills to a much more difficult test. Make her wish this little avatar had struck her down while the chance still existed.

And then he'll take her into his arms and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her, as another grand prize for her previous victory, and to finally satisfy his eons-old craving that only seized him harder as he watched her go.

[chelseeebe]

crush.

a/n: hmm i wonder if you can guess what this is about? i have listened to this song an ungodly amount of times while writing this and i am literally obsessed. i rlly wanted to make this angsty n sad but eddie never gets a happy ending when i write him so decided against it hehe

no use of y/n! smut (18+) eddie is a bit of a douche but very much makes up for it in the end <3

eddie munson was trouble. but you knew that.

he was quite oddly proud of the fact his dad was in jail, facing the chair no less. having been shipped off to his uncle’s in hawkins when he first got sent down.

it was too much for his mom to juggle both him and his brother. especially as eddie was such a handful. she’d call him occasionally and they’d visit every christmas. she mostly called to tell him of his brother’s achievements. disappointed that he wasn’t academic like his big brother.

when he’d eventually graduated high school, third time lucky, he’d picked up a job at the local mechanic shop. learning from the older guys as he went.

your uncle owned the place so you’d be a regular visitor, it meant lots of fussing from his workers, something you basked in. they’d give you sneaky cigarettes and threaten to knock the head off of any guy that dared bother you. and in the summer you’d sit atop the low wall and share cold beers.

when eddie started, he’d seemed like he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in knowing anything about you. you’d assumed that he probably had a girlfriend.

not noticing how his eyes sneakily leered at your legs when you’d been turned away or how he’d try to hide his disappointment when you wouldn’t turn up.

but you watched from afar, noting his habits. when he’d go for a cigarette, long hair tied back with a green scrunchy, an artefact probably stolen from said girlfriend.

and when the summer came around and his sleeves got shorter, showcasing the jumble of tattoos on his defined arms, you were practically foaming at the mouth to get to know him.

you would never ever let him know. not unless he made the first move. and you stood by that.

then one day as summer drew to a close, bare legs swinging as you sat on the wall outside, he’d come up and stood next to you, holding out the box of marlboro reds.

‘y’want one?’ his own cigarette perched between his pink lips, one eyebrow cocked.

you silently take a cigarette, placing it in between your lips and holding your hand out for the lighter. he does one better, taking the lighter from his pocket, flickering the flame and lighting it for you.

it takes every bone in your body to stay upright and not collapse into a pile of mush. your stomach fluttering at the intimacy, his callous hands only inches from your mouth.

you’d thought about his thumbs and how perfect they’d feel running along your lips.

he leans back against the brick, cleaning his oil stained hands on some old rag, taking a long drag, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

‘you doing anything tonight?’ he asks, squinting as the setting sun glares into his eyes, the orange glow beautifully cascading on his features.

‘hmm.. no,’ trying hard to act as casual as possible, though your heart was practically bursting from your chest.

‘my band’s playing the hideaway tonight, you should come,’ he smirks, grey smoke blowing out of his mouth with every word.

‘your band?’

‘yeah.. i play the guitar, sing a little.. we’re good i promise,’ flicking the cigarette to the pile of other butts at the entrance.

the mention of the guitar is enough to convince you, not that you needed much. filthy thoughts crowding your mind, watching as he pushes himself from the wall, standing in front of you.

‘i might come down, what time are you on?’ you ask, throwing your cigarette into the pile next to his.

‘we’re on at nine,’ he nods, beginning to walk back into the warehouse, ‘i’ll see you tonight.’

his assertiveness makes your cheeks flush, dipping your head and grinning at your lap hoping your uncle hadn’t noticed your conversation.

you do go. obviously.

making sure your skirt is appropriately rolled up, ripped fishnets adorning your legs and enough eyeliner to resemble a raccoon.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by eddie, or anyone really. the grubby old drunks sleazing around you, questionable touches and frankly inappropriate comments. eddie’s eyes stay firmly planted on you throughout, darkening as you stare back at him.

it’s no shock when you find yourself pressed against the rough back wall of the hideout, one of eddie’s hands beside your head, the other creeping underneath your skirt, mouths colliding in a sloppy kiss.

hungry for more as you cling onto his neck, his fingers skirting eerily close to your already wet cunt. you can feel him smirking against your mouth when you buck your hips in response.

‘you coming back to mine?’ he mumbles between kisses, the hand on the wall moving to caress your cheek, rough palms holding the heated skin.

you nod enthusiastically, pressing your body against his, still trapped between him and the wall. he pulls back, eyes glinting with the street lamp. pupils dilated with utter lust, thumb tracing along your swollen lips just like you’d once pictured.

the drive back to his trailer is torture, both of you too frustrated to make conversation. the aching feeling between your legs worsening when his hand reaches over, resting on your thigh. the worst part is that he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing.

soft squeezes as you press your thighs together, willing for the road to somehow shorten.

you practically jump on him the second you walk through the door, pressing him against whatever solid surface you crash into first. hands desperate to touch him, pulling the holey band shirt up and over his mop of hair.

calloused hands nipping at your thighs as they travelled beneath your skirt. leading you backwards into what you assumed was his room, his tongue making lazy contact with yours when he misjudges the placement of the door, smacking straight into the wall.

he takes this as an opportunity to swap your positions, pushing you backwards into the small room. hands gripping your ass when you stumble into the corner of the bed, tumbling backwards and bringing him down on top of you.

you’re not even properly kissing at this point, breathing heavily as he’s poised above. he pulls back, moving you up the bed with ease, arms slung around his neck.

‘you’re insane,’ he breathes, mattress dipping on either side of your head as he holds himself up, eyes wandering from yours down to your exposed chest, tits peeking out of the tiny top you’d chosen.

‘you gonna do anything? or you just gonna stare?’

he goes from incredibly stoic and admiring to an large grin, no hesitation in lifting the shirt over your head. throwing it somewhere on the cluttered floor as his lips find yours again, spare hand finding the warmth between your legs.

your fingers fiddle with his large belt buckle, rutting your hips upwards, trying to get his hand to something. anything other than just sit there. frustrated with the speed in which he was moving, he grins into your mouth, finding your desperation amusing.

‘christ you’re needy,’ ever-so-slowly hooking his fingers into the waistband of the lacy underwear you’d work just in case, pulling them down with a harsh tug.

‘i’m going home if you don’t hurry up,’ you threaten, though it was empty.

his hand taking place of yours and unhooking his own belt, ‘no you’re not,’ he laughs and you can feel the tent in his jeans rub against your now bare cunt.

the anticipation in your stomach bubbling, eager to have him inside of you. the movement of your own hips doing nothing to help as they move upwards against him, legs wrapped tight around his back.

he pulls his jeans off antagonising and slow, relishing in watching you squirm beneath him, trying to find any relief in the little he was giving you. kicking off the black skinny jeans onto the floor, peering down between your bodies.

his fingers had found their way back between your legs, teasing your sopping hole with his index finger. dipping in but never enough.

a groan rumbles from your throat, ‘please.. just- fuck,’ panting when his middle finger joins the tormenting of your cunt, absolute putty in his hands.

‘ask me nicely,’ he demands, a wide smirk already plastered on his face when you look up at him, pupils blown out and wild.

you can tell he was just as desperate as you were, but taking extra pleasure in getting you begging for him.

‘please.. please fuck me,’ you swallow, eyes closing as you feel his leaking tip circle around your slick entrance.

‘that’s better,’ he quips before pushing himself in, breath hitching in his throat as your legs clamp around him, pulling him in.

‘h-holy shit,’ he murmurs, slowly moving his hips, willing himself not to fucking come already, your whines doing him absolutely no favours.

you slide your hands from his neck to his shoulders, nails digging into the moist skin when his pace quickens. eyes drooping shut when his thumb meets your clit, drawing small circles around the sensitive nub.

the undeniable sounds of your body meeting his full the room, soft cusses flooding out of his mouth when your hips move against him, urging him to move faster.

‘jesus.. you’re so.. uh, fuck you’re so perfect,’ stammering through deep breaths, even the feel of your soft thighs around his waist were fucking him up.

he braved looking down, the vision of your cock drunk face and soft moans, pushing him towards his orgasm. your eyes fluttering when he hits the soft, spongy spot inside, thumb unforgiving around your clit.

‘right there,’ you mewl, hurtling towards your own orgasm, stomach tightening and your legs trembling with every erratic thrust, his own attempt to get you there before him.

‘oh my god,’ you whine as the coil snaps, white-hot pleasure exploding behind your eyes, clawing onto the skin of his shoulders.

his thrusts stutter as your walls clench around him, thick ropes of come painting your insides as he collapses on top of you, mouth open as he rides out his high still inside.

you finally open your eyes, running soothing hands along his back, catching your own breath. cheeks warm and painted a sweet shade of red.

eventually coming back to earth, he rolls over onto the spare side of the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. pushing the long black hair back and out of his face.

he stays like that for a few moments, basking in his euphoria. you sit up, and reach down for your discarded shirt, holding it to your bare chest.

he peeks over, ‘you’re going?’ sounding almost disappointed.

you look back over your shoulder at him and shrug, wasn’t that what he wanted? most men would. in fact, they’d dress you themselves if it would get you out of there quicker.

‘you can stay y’know.. was kinda hoping we’d do that again like, at least twice,’ smirking as his fingers toy with the hem of your skirt.

‘okay,’ lips twitching into a smile, falling back onto the bed when his hand tugs on your hip, pulling you into his warm chest.

-

thus started whatever the hell it was you had going on now. not quite a relationship but enough to be spending half of your time with him. both at the shop and not. many nights spent watching corroded coffin, an unholy amount of black sabbath covers.

you come to learn that eddie regards ozzy osbourne as a hero. someone he tries to style his entire life around. it pisses you off no end when he jumps off the tiny stage at the hideout and onto a crowd of old drunks.

scalding him afterwards for being so stupid because one day they won’t catch him.

‘darling, one day the crowd’ll be so big, you won’t have to worry about it,’ he laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

it’s not long before everyone in the garage figures out exactly what’s going on. your uncle expressing his clear disdain for the new relationship. threatening a passive eddie with a dull screwdriver the second he clocks on.

‘i’m telling you now, that i will kill you if i have to.’

the sight alone makes you collapse into a fit of laughter, eddie’s eyes wide with his hands up in defeat. chuckling himself when your uncle walks away.

one night, you’re sat waiting for eddie to finish fucking about with some motorcycle. your uncle tapping his foot impatiently.

‘i can lock up if you wanna go home,’ you offer, leaning against the uncomfortable metal desk.

‘yeah i do,’ throwing the heavy keys at you, glaring over to eddie, ‘no funny business, and i mean it.’

you smile, placing the keys on the desk next to you and watching as eddie emerges from beneath the bike, hiding his mischievous grin by biting down onto his bottom lip.

‘don’t you fucking dare,’ he warns, pointing at eddie as he walks towards his own car, shaking his head.

‘yessir,’ eddie calls after him, receiving an annoyed honk in response as he hightails out of there.

so when you’re sat atop the old, dusty cadillac just mere minutes later with your legs wrapped around his waist, you giggle into eddie’s mouth.

‘what’s funny?’ he mumbles, hand travelling down your waist, awfully close to the waistband of your jeans.

‘he’s serious, y’know?’ placing your hand on top of his, stopping it from going any further.

‘good,’ his lips sloppily connecting your yours, quickly swapping the position of your hands so his is perched on top, moving both of them down and past your waistband.

‘you’ll get us both killed,’ gasping as he makes your hand brush against your already soaked hole, feeling his grin in the crook of your neck.

‘he’s not gonna find out,’ he utters, softly sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

you go to protest but you’re taken into shock when one of his fingers enters the slick hole, your hand flying out from beneath his to clutch onto the back of his neck.

‘you want me to stop?’ he teases, moving his finger antagonisingly slow, thumb tapping on your clit.

you shake your head no, leaning back and shifting your hips forward along the hood of the dusty car, the metal creaking beneath you.

instinctively throwing your head back when he slides in another finger, the other hand digging into your waist, sure enough to leave a bruise in the morning.

‘holy shit,’ you breathe, feeling his growing erection brush against your thigh, ‘fuck me,’ you beg, immediately going against everything you’d said earlier.

‘huh? what was that?’

your hips writhe against his fingers, ‘fuck me,’ pleading for more than he was currently giving.

he pulls his hand from your jeans, smirking when he goes back in to kiss you, yanking your jeans and panties down around your thighs in one fell swoop.

‘now who’s the one begging for it?’ he groans, struggling with his own jeans, eager to disgrace the poor rusty old car.

the bonnet makes a loud clunking sound from underneath and you seemingly sink into the metal. you and eddie stare at each other, wide-eyed and frankly terrified. neither of you brave enough to look at the inevitable dent your ass had just made.

collapsing into a fit of giggles when eddie lifts your body, mumbling a chorus of shits and fucks, preparing to lose his life to the hands of your pissed off uncle.

-

‘why the fuck do you have a gun?’ you screech, holding onto the metal door of the locker for stability.

you’d only gone in there in search of his cigarettes, not expecting to find a fucking glock chilling in his tattered old rucksack.

he rushes over, dropping the spanner with a loud clatter, ‘hey hey.. shh, why are you going through my bag?’ his face screwed up as you turn to face him, stern faced.

‘i’ll ask you again, why do you have a fucking gun, eddie?’ wildly throwing your hands about, trying to amplify your point.

his large hand grabs wraps around your wrists, pulling them down out of his face, ‘it’s not mine.. i’m just.. holding it for a friend,’ he peeks around the door, making sure nobody had heard your screaming.

after meeting his friends, you’re sure it’s true. a group of dope slingers who had no regard for their lives, or anyone else’s for that matter.

‘so you thought bringing it to work was a good idea?’ you fume, trying to wriggle your arms free from his grasp.

‘i forgot it was in there, look, it’s not mine, alright? it’s going back tomorrow,’ he looks angry, brows knitted together, jaw tense.

you already worried about him enough. sometimes he’d go m.i.a. for a few hours and you just knew he was somewhere chasing after that group of pricks. he’d sworn to you that he’d never touched that shit, sticking to strictly weed and occasional ketamine.

‘he’ll fucking kill you if you bring that shit here,’ referencing your uncle who was only in the other part of the garage. your hands still trapped in his grip.

‘i forgot,’ he huffs, anger easing as you soften your gaze, realising that your frustration wasn’t so much with him, ‘i’m sorry, alright? it’s not mine- i don’t think it’s even been used.’

you jut out your bottom lip, exhaling sharply from your nose, ‘i don’t care.. just, just don’t bring all that in here.. my uncle’s a good man- i don’t want him involved in your shit.’

‘i know,’ he nods, ‘i know, i’m sorry.. yeah? i promise it’s gone tomorrow,’ eyes searching your face for any sign of forgiveness.

‘okay.. whatever,’ you blink up at him, ‘you can let go of me now.’

‘kiss me and i’ll think about it,’ his frown quickly turning into a smirk.

‘get away from me, you stink,’ faking disgust as you turn your head to the side, trying to conceal your own smile creeping onto your face.

‘shut up,’ he mutters, attacking your exposed neck with a million kisses, eliciting a loud shriek as he pushes you back into the lockers, the metal banging as your back collides with it.

‘not in the fucking garage,’ your uncle rounds the corner, pissed that he’d been subjecting to such a sight.

eddie lets go immediately, wiping his sweaty forehead, unknowingly smearing black shit all over the skin. you lean back against the locker, apologising to your uncle with your eyes.

he aggressively tosses his rag at eddie, ‘clean yourself up, you look like a fuckin’ idiot,’ before getting back to tinkering with some car.

-

eddie had somewhat always regarded himself as a hero. needing to constantly save people, throw his weight around when necessary. or completely unnecessarily, as you’d see it.

you usually rolled your eyes and pulled him away. but tonight it hadn’t worked.

and he’d got his ass absolutely handed to him by a group of men in some new bar you were trying. one of them had come up to you, a little drunk and far too handsy. nothing you couldn’t handle on your own.

but eddie had had to get involved, shoving the drunk backwards into the bar, crashing into the rest of his pals gathered around.

so one of them threw a punch, connecting with his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. he’d tried to hold his own, pushing you away in the middle of the chaos.

you’d had to step in the middle when the men had circled around him on the floor, all leather jackets and raging testosterone levels. rather pathetic.

you stayed silent for the entire walk back to his trailer. eddie trailing along, clutching his already bruised cheek.

‘i’m sorry,’ he calls from a few paces behind, groaning as he walked. you ignored it, pressing on until you reached the trailer park.

you stand behind as he unlocks the door, sulking because of his impulsive actions. well deserved, you thought.

as soon as you’re inside, he turns to face you, ‘can you just speak to me?’ pouting, putting on his sickening puppy dog eyes.

you just want to rip his head from his shoulders, it wasn’t like he used his brain much anyway. you shove his chest, ‘sit down.’

he complies, perching on the sofa and still feeling sorry for himself as you grabbed the antiseptic and the cotton pads from the bathroom. walking back into the room with a worthy scowl on your lips.

you sit next to him, slightly too harsh as you turn his face towards you. dousing the cotton wool in the smelly liquid, pressing it to his cheek.

sucking the air in between his teeth and gripping onto the soft sofa, ‘jesus fuck,’ he curses, but stays sat still, too scared of what you’d do if he dared move.

‘serves you right,’ you hiss, dabbing the cotton on the wound, ‘i owe you a fucking black eye for that shit.. i’ve told you, i don’t need you to start throwing fists for me.’

he places his hand on your arm, eyes sad as they gaze up at you, ‘i know.. but he was fuckin-,’ stopping whatever he was about to say when your eyes meet his, glaring at him.

‘yeah, he was a creep.. but i can handle it, eddie,’ running your finger over his split lip, garnering a wince from eddie.

‘yeah,’ admitting defeat with a soft squeeze of your arm, ‘i’m sorry,’ eyes glimmering with hope when your face softens, not able to stay mad at him for very long.

‘mhm,’ tossing the now-red cotton ball onto the small coffee table, ‘does it hurt?’ locking eyes with him once more.

‘only a little.’

you pause briefly, ‘thank you.. for protecting my honour or whatever, but i can handle that shit without you.’

he doesn’t reply verbally, but his eyes glint, lips curling into a small smile. he doesn’t need to say it. you know exactly what that look means. unspoken but you can feel it so deeply.

it’s exactly why you felt so sick watching him essentially get jumped. why your heart stang when he hadn’t got back up.

‘i know you can,’ breaking the silence, fingers still curled around your arm.

you exhale, giving in completely, ‘well, at least you look super tough now.,’

‘y’think so?’

‘mhm, sexy too,’ once again tracing over the small cut on his lip, pulling his lip down with your thumb.

his eyes glisten with infatuation, the simple action already driving him crazy. gazing at you through long eyelashes and praying to god you’d always be here to clean his wounds.

-

you hadn’t realised you’d dozed off to sleep until the creaking of the trailer door jolts you awake. you’d got tired of waiting for eddie, who had promised to be back before eleven. telling you it’d be fine to just go straight to his, wayne wouldn’t mind.

the dusty alarm clock flashed 3:30, hours after he’d told you he’d be there.

the floorboards creak and there’s hushed whispers from the living room that you can just about vaguely make out as something along the lines of, ‘shit, sorry.’

‘what the hell are you doin’? she’s been in there waiting for you all fuckin’ night.’

‘i know.. sorry for waking you uncle wayne, night.’

you close your eyes again before eddie’s bedroom door opens and he creeps into the room. you brace, waiting to see if he’ll acknowledge your presence.

‘you awake?’ he calls out quietly, shimmying out of his denim jacket.

‘yep.’

‘i’m sorry i’m late.. i got caught up,’ you can hear him rustling about, stepping around the shit on his floor to get to the bed.

he sits on the few inches of mattress between you and the edge, reaching his arm out to find your body resting his hand on your exposed arm.

‘where the fuck have you been?’ you glower at him, his shitty plastic blinds letting in just enough of the bright moon to illuminate his face.

‘i was with rick.. i didn’t realise what time it was,’ kicking his shoes off onto the old carpet.

‘don’t lie to me eddie.’

he sighs and you can see his eyes drop, knowing he’d already been caught out, anything he tried to say now was futile.

‘alright,’ thumb stroking your goosebump filled arm, trying to keep you docile enough to tell you the full story, ‘promise you won’t get mad?’

you brace, waiting for the horrible truth of how he’d been with some girl, that this was pointless and you should get the fuck out of his bed. you nod, perhaps not really meaning it.

‘right..’ he bites down on his bottom lip, shuffling to face you, ‘rick uh, got into some shit, needed some cash to get out of it.. you really can’t get mad, alright?’

‘i won’t, just tell me,’ reaching out to latch your finger into the silver chain hanging from his belt loop, now knowing that at least this had fuck all to do with you.

he swallows, finding your eyes in the darkness, ‘we robbed that corner store down on seventh.. it was a one time thing, yeah? these people he was fucking with are bad news, we had to,’ he scrabbles to justify himself to you.

‘what?’

‘i said you can’t get mad.’

‘i’m not mad.. is that what that fucking gun was for?’

‘no- well, i dunno.. he had it on him but he didn’t use it, promise,’ hand sliding up your arm to caress your cheek.

‘how much did he need? jesus christ eds, i wish you’d just told me,’ you pout, picturing him in some crazy western-style shootout in the tiny corner store.

‘i know, i’m sorry.. i didn’t want you getting involved, it’s done now, no more,’ thumb pressed against your temple drawing small lines on your skin.

‘okay,’ you nod, not quite believing him but having to suffice with what he was giving. you didn’t like to think about the shit he got up to with rick, better left in the dark for the sake of your sanity.

‘y’gonna let me in? s’fucking freezing out here.’

you oblige, shuffling across the bed and lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. he quickly gets out of his jeans, throwing his t-shirt somewhere on the ground before getting under the blanket.

his cold arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you shiver under his touch, sighing when your head touches his skin.

‘m’sorry,’ he mumbles into the top of your hair, ‘i’m all yours tomorrow.’

you mutter a small, ‘good,’ nestling into his hold, slowly dropping off to sleep, comforted by his warm arms.

-

eddie was absolutely furious. you hadn’t even meant to say it, at least not in the way it had came out.

he was being a dick again, showing off at the bar after you’d already told him you wanted to go home. but he wasn’t listening. and ended up with the swollen cheek to show for it.

‘how many times do i have to tell you that you can’t just fucking fight people because they were rude to you once?’ you huff, gripping onto the steering wheel.

‘i’m sorry, okay? you could’ve gone home.. i would’ve been fine on my own,’ he counters, rubbing his sore cheek, slumped down in the passenger seat.

you scoff, ‘yeah, looked like it,’ rolling your eyes as you’d had to pull him off of the floor once more.

‘jesus christ, it’s not that deep, i’m alive.. you’re alive, just leave it,’ fed up, with his ego slightly bruised, he didn’t mean to snap but tonight had pissed him off too.

‘you’re gonna end up dead.. or just like your dad, is that what you want?’ you’d immediately regretted it, the words sounded foreign leaving your mouth.

‘is that what you think i am? see, you think you know me, know my dad.. but you haven’t got the slightest idea what it’s like,’ he spits back, face screwed up in frustration.

‘i didn’t- i didn’t mean it like that,’ you plead, sneaking brief looks at his aggravated face.

‘d’ya know what? let me out here, i’ll walk.’

‘eddie.. i’m sorry please ju-,’

‘let me out of this fucking car,’ he hisses, already pushed past his limit.

you oblige, pulling over on the dark road. you weren’t far from the trailer park but it’d be at least a twenty minute walk and it was pitch black.

‘it’s dark, will you be okay?’ but you’re cut off with a slam of the door, he’s already stormed off into the woods before you can even think about locking the doors and trapping him inside.

you’d honestly thought he wasn’t being serious. an empty threat. biting down onto your bottom lip, internally debating whether to go out into the woods and drag him back.

the thing is, eddie knew the woods, had used them as a shortcut to get home for years, whereas you’d merely driven past on the way to his. there was no use in going out there with no flashlight and ending up lost.

so you turn the car around, driving towards your own house for once. you’d see him at the garage tomorrow. he’d have calmed down and you can weasel your way back into his good books.

except, he doesn’t turn up for work the next day.

your stomach flips when your uncle comes banging around the corner expecting eddie to be trailing behind.

‘where is he?’

‘what? he’s not here? i don’t- i don’t know, we uh,’ you stop yourself, ‘i stayed at home last night.. i thought he’d be here,’ mind racing, already thinking of what terrible things could’ve happened in those creepy woods.

‘he hasn’t turned up, y’wanna tell him that if he’s sick i need a phone call, something.. he doesn’t get off just because you two are messin’ about,’ he points his blackened finger at you, walking back into the garage shaking his head.

you don’t even make it fully into the warehouse, turning on your heel back to your old car and speeding out of there. you’d check the trailer first and then make the treacherous journey through the woods.

when you drive up the gravel, you can see his van isn’t parked outside in it’s usual spot. okay, maybe he went out. or was just late to work. at least you know he’d made it back and wasn’t still in the woods somewhere.

you still knock on the grimy door, knowing that wayne would probably just be waking up.

the door swings open and he looks positively fuming until he sees it’s you, ‘oh, y’alright doll? early isn’t it?’

‘hey wayne, is eddie home? he didn’t turn up for work so i’m just.. wondering if he’s okay..’ you swallow loudly, knowing damn well he wasn’t in there.

‘no.. no he went out last night, seemed pretty pissed off so i didn’t bother to ask- you okay? y’look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ he looks genuinely concerned, holding onto the plastic rim of the door.

‘we had an argument and he stormed off,’ tears welling in your eyes.

‘yeah i figured, i’m sure he’s alright.. sometimes he just needs to calm down for a while, don’t let it worry you,’ he adds, the sentiment was nice but your heart was thudding.

you weren’t even officially together for fuck sake. but you at least knew how you felt about him and had a small inclination that he felt similarly. maybe you’d fucked it for good. he had no real loyalties to you, what was stopping him from running off and never speaking to you again.

‘okay,’ you nod, blinking rapidly so to hide your tears, ‘can you please tell him to call me if, or when he gets back?’

‘sure thing sweets, i’ll see you later,’ he waves before closing the door.

you traipse off back to your car, thinking of a list of places he could possibly be. a handful of them being immediately crossed off as it was the middle of the morning.

-

it’s almost evening before you think to check rick’s house. having driven around all day looking at his usual spots for him, asking everyone if he’d been there or if they knew where he could be.

it was only at the hideout where one of the girls behind the bar suggests rick’s with a chuckle.

eddie had stopped by rick’s before, you’d stayed in the van though and he’d disappear inside before emerging with a ton of weed and a shit eating grin on his face.

you can spot his van the second you round the corner. feeling the relief wash over you the second you know he’s actually still alive and in hawkins. then the feeling of guilt is replaced by rage. annoyed that you’d driven the entirety of this shithole town and he’d just been here getting high the entire time.

there’s a small second in which you debate if going up and banging on the door was actually a good idea or if it’d just cause more problems.

you do it anyway, parking next to his van and walking up the wooden steps to the massive house. a muffled thumping of music gets louder as you approach. they probably wouldn’t even hear you.

but you knock, waiting patiently for someone, hopefully eddie, to answer.

the door opens, revealing a skinny, tousled man who you’d never seen before, he stares at you, mouth open for what feels like minutes.

‘is eddie in there?’ you ask, staring back at the strange man.

‘yeah, two seconds,’ he mumbles before closing the door, hopefully going to get the man. you couldn’t be sure he even knew what you said.

the door opens again a few moments later, looking rather disheveled, eyes wild and still in the same clothes he’d skulked off in last night. he stinks of a mixture between booze and weed, hair hanging limp around his face.

‘woah hey, what are you doing here?’ sounding genuinely confused, not the reaction you’d imagined.

‘well, you didn’t show up for work.. i wanted to know if you were alright,’ you shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for even stalking him this badly.

‘shit, yeah.. i was s’posed to call, i forgot,’ he steps out onto the porch, closing the door round behind him, ‘you came all the way out here to find me?’

‘yeah,’ you say quietly, just realising how much of a crazy bitch you must seem.

‘eddie!’ a female voice calls from inside the house. you look between him and the door as she peers round the door, a pretty girl, someone else you’d never seen before.

your heart sinks.

‘oh shit.. sorry,’ she grimaces, ‘i just wanted to know if you were coming back in?’

‘just give me two minutes, alright?’ he glares at her as she holds her hand up in apology before going back into the house.

that blind rage you’d felt pulling up the house reappears and you’d love to reach across and slap his now-very purple cheek.

‘that’s not- that wasn’t what you think it was,’ he pleads, noticing your clenched jaw and balled up fist.

‘yeah i’m sure it wasn’t,’ you add sarcastically, ‘i can see that you’re perfectly fine so i’m gonna go ahead and leave, you have fun,’ heart beating out of your chest as you turn around and walk down the wooden steps.

he’s already hot on your tail, ‘can you just- baby listen to me,’ calling out from a few paces behind.

‘get fucked,’ you spit, trying to get into your car before he could reach you.

he’s grabbing at your arm the second the cars unlocked, ‘listen to me,’ you’re spun around to face him before you can even register what’s going on.

‘what? what are you gonna say? you don’t owe me anything, eddie.. you can do whatever you want,’ your throat burning from the untruthful words.

‘i haven’t-,’ he sighs, collecting himself before continuing, ‘i wanted to piss you off a little, so i came here and then me and rick got into some shit and i lost track of time, i’m sorry,’ fingers beginning to dig into your arm, afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d run away.

‘so who’s your little girlfriend?’ sounding far more jealous than you’d perhaps liked.

‘that’s fucking rick’s girlfriend, i don’t even know her name,’ he pleads, his bottom lip jutted out in his best puppy dog impression.

you swallow, hardly believing him, ‘right, even if that was true, it wouldn’t matter.. you’re single, i’m single, you can do whatever you want,’ shaking your arm as a last ditch attempt to get him off of you and get away.

his face falls, he’d fucked up before, sure. but not to the extent where you wouldn’t be kissing all over him moments after he apologised. or where you’d outwardly expressed your lack of an official title.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware that you weren’t exactly official. he just always assumed that there was an understanding that you two were together, but not really.

‘you’re not serious? i fucked up, i know. but i haven’t fucked her- or, or anyone else for that matter.’

his fingers loosen and you take that as your opportunity to yank your arm away, opening the car door and getting halfway in when his hand slams onto the metal, stopping you from closing the it.

‘get off of my car,’ you glare, your hand gripping the handle as you argue with him.

‘i’m trying to talk to you, you won’t even give me that?’ he begs, knuckles white as he’s losing the battle against the door.

‘i have nothing to say to you,’ you spit, using your other hand to gain leverage, he relents and you slam the door shut. shoving the key into the ignition before speeding off out of the long driveway.

eddie stands there gormless for a minute. staring as your car disappears into the distance. he kicks his boot into a pile of leaves, cursing as the front door opens and rick peers round having heard the entire argument from his front room.

he argues against getting into his van and chasing after you but he’s still well over the limit and you’d only be more pissed off if you knew.

-

you must’ve passed out at some point, exhausted from the rage and pain of it all. not even bothering to crawl under your blanket, just in a heap on one side of your bed.

the window slides open, forcing you out of your slumber. a string of curses come from the other side of your room and then a small thud as whichever crazy psychopath makes their way into your room.

you bolt upright, eyes adjusting to the dark room. just about making out the silhouette of the man. the undeniable curly hair making it rather easy to decipher who it is.

‘shit,’ he mumbles, feeling his way through the room towards your bed, tripping on something on the floor, he hadn’t noticed you sit up.

you switch the lamp on, squinting as the light fills the room. looking like a deer in headlights as he pauses, frozen as you glare over at him.

‘what the fuck are you doing?’ you hush, knowing your dad was definitely fast asleep just down the hall.

‘i didn’t wanna wake your dad up,’ he looks down at the floor to see what was caught around his foot and then back at you, ‘i need to-,’ he looks down again, realising exactly what he’d tripped over, ‘is that my fucking shirt?’ he picks the torn up piece of fabric off of his boot.

you’d hacked at the metallica shirt with a pair of rusty scissors, now in multiple pieces strewn across your floor. the scissors dumped somewhere next to your bed.

‘you cut up my shirt?’ he asks, bewildered, the black cotton just dangling from his fingers as he walks over to the bed.

‘no,’ a blatant lie, ‘the dog ate it,’ shrugging innocently.

he’s in disbelief but his lips twitch, turning into a smirk, dropping what was left of his shirt back onto the floor, ‘you’re fucking crazy, you know that?’ now towering over you beside the bed.

‘you’re a fucking asshole, you know that?’ you refute, still so infuriated with him.

‘yeah, i do,’ he sits on the empty half of your bed, ‘that’s why i’m here,’ eyes full of hope, the exact opposite to how you’d left him just hours prior.

‘you’re here to tell me that you’re an asshole? could’ve saved yourself a trip, i’m already well aware of that.’

‘are you gonna shut up and listen to me?’

you scowl at him but keep your mouth shut, nodding to get him to carry on.

‘i’m here because i- hm,’ he tenses, moving up the bed, his hands cupping both of your cheeks, needing your full attention, ‘because i fucking love you, yeah?’

his brown eyes search your face for a response when you don’t answer, hands slowly releasing their grip on your skin. maybe it was too little too late, had he fucked any chance at making things right?

you take a minute to read his face, trying to determine if he was just trying to weasel his way back into the comfortable position he was in with you.

when his face rightly falls due to your lack of an answer, you finally croak out a small, ‘you do?’

his hands squeeze the fat on your cheeks, relieved to hear something come out of your mouth, ‘of course i do,’ he looks slightly offended that you’d even question the legitimacy of what he’d said.

so you lunge forward, crashing your lips to his, grinning against his cheek as your lips connect in a chaotic kiss. his body falling backwards onto the mattress as your torso collides with his, holding himself up with one hand.

‘holy fuck,’ he mutters into your mouth, clinging onto your jaw for some stability.

you pull away, eyes glimmering as you gaze up at him, ‘i love you too,’ twisting your face into a satisfied smile.

uncaring if your dad could hear, forcing him backwards onto your mattress, clambering atop, your lips hazily connecting with his again.

[arliedraws]

In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.

So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better

It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)

Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.

To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:

1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)

2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).

Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.

I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…

Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.

When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.

So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.

My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!

TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!

Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.

Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!

Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…

Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.

Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!

[ja3hwa]

Pretty Pirate | Seonghwa

「Synopsis」 : Pretty Pirate goes messing with things she shouldn't.

「Word count」 : 1.26k

-> Genre: Suggestive, Angst. 

Paring: Siren!Seonghwa x Pirate!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Pirate talk. Making out. Nudity (non-sexual and sexual). Neck kissing. Mommy!Seonghwa. Mommy kink. Plot twist. Manipulation. Triggering scenes. Let me know If I missed anything.

Note: This is for @whatudowhennooneseesyou Event! Called Mommy!May. Make sure to check out the other fics from other amazing writers ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Mommy!May Event

Being on the sea was freeing, like time stops when you take your first inhale of the salty air. The damp wood under your palms and the light chirps of seagulls. The leather clutches your figure and the faint smell of liquor on your breath. People told you, yelled that wouldn’t survive on the open water.―it’s no life for a person like you―they would repeat that to you over and over. You never like your family anyway.

“Hey Peach! We are docking soon. Tell cap we hit ground in five.” One of your crew mates, Yunho, called out, making you shake away your blurred and rambled thoughts. You nodded to the taller male, skipping over to the heavy oak door, before banging on it, hard.

“Cap’n we are about to hit ground.” You hear a loud grunt from beyond the door, you roll your eyes before walking away to look out to the island ahead. Your heart skips a beat thinking, remembering the touch from a special secret someone. The night you met him felt like magic, like a dream you never wanted to wake from. But sadly when sun rose and your crew members' voices echoed through the dim cave system. You knew the myth, the man that stole your heart, was gone.

-

“Yeah I hear ya, I do but at the same time I don’t care.” you shrugged your shoulders jumping from the deck onto one of the small boats that are hooked on the side of the ship before you hopped over the side, onto the soft sand below. Wooyoung's shocked expression made you laugh waving him goodbye before you heard him screaming on the top of his lungs;

“You are going to get in trouble. Cap doesn’t like us running off without his knowin’.” He slammed his fist on the dark railing shaking his head as he watched your figure slowly disappear from his view. You were going to be the death of him, literally.

Entering a sizeable open-face cave you stare in awe house the setting sun hits the wet structure's wall's so beautifully, watching the light reflect and dance on the calm water pools. You hoped, prayed you might see your lover, curious if he got word from the birds that you were travelling over his home. And as you crossed passed a large rock formation and spotted a lilac blue tail with a white blend. his hair was as white as sea foam and his skin was pale, soft, and porcelain. He was the definition of perfection.

“Hwa!!” You called getting the merman's attention. He gazed in your direction and his smile grew wide. You could see him whispering before a soft glow danced around his body, transforming his tail into two long, elegant legs.

“Hello, my love.” He spoke softly, taking a wobbly step so he could take up next to you. Even though he was not born with a tail, his legs are surprisingly long, meaning he towers over you, making you feel so small, but in the best way.

“I missed you.” your eyes never left his, almost ignoring the fact that the man before you was naked. His hand cupped your cheek, wiping his thumb against your skin. His heart was racing, wanting nothing more than to ravish you with desire. You were a perfect little plaything in his eyes, a toy for his own pleasure, and your obedience was also a plus. In a way, he was deeply infatuated with you.

“I missed you to Peaches.” His words made butterflies dance in your tummy. You had spent hours, days with this man and he still made you feel like it was the first time being with him. You couldn’t explain the pure dizziness and happiness you felt when he was around. But it’s always as if you were floating on a cloud and Seonghwa's voice lifted you higher and higher. “Let me show you how much I missed you…”

His breath tickled your ear, feeling his wet tongue lick the shell of your ear before he bit down lightly. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his damp skin. His lisp travelled from your ear to your jaw, neck, and collarbone, leaving bite marks―not hickeys―but actual bite marks from his sharp teeth. He needed to taste you, taste the pleasure and excitement spilling out of you.

“Remember what I taught you last time Peach?” His voice became deep, hypnotizing. You nodded with a whimper, silently begging he would continue what he started. His eyes faded into a darker colouring, looking at you with complete lust and curiosity. “Say it…”

“Please take me, Mommy.”

Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back slightly, while he took a breath in. His hand, still against your cheek, moved down to your hip where the other sat. Pulling your body closer so you could feel his erection against your tummy. “God, you are so good... Such a great listener for Mommy.”

You were under his complete control, wanting to do whatever he pleased and he was living for it. His lips formed a smirk, staring down with sadistic, yet soft eyes. Hands clawed at your clothing, his long nails dug and ripped the fabric, letting the tattered pieces fall onto the sand that tangled between your feet. You watched him closely, as his snaked pupils dilated, tongue darting out of his mouth breathy almost looking at you like his prey.

“Pretty pirate getting soaked right in front of me.” His hushful voice danced in your ears making you feel like you were floating. He wasted no more seconds, latching his lips against your jugular, sucking a harsh, bright, and dark mark. Lapping over the mark, his tongue racked down your bare body. His hands grope your breast, pulling your body closer. You whine, raising your hands to rake them through his damp hair. “My pretty pirate.” He tugs you closer, making you almost step on your own feet.

“M-Mommy…” You begged for it, for his touch, his love. Fingers dancing over one another’s bodies, feeling hot flesh under your tips. His sharp shark-like teeth graze over your skin, creating goosebumps in their path. He could smell your arousal mixing with the salty sea air. It’s intoxicating.

“Don’t worry. Let me take care of you.” And with that he sealed his promise with a kiss, one filled with lust, hiding a small amount of passion underneath. Teeth clashed and moans were swallowed. A chuckle grew in his chest, slowly walking you towards him. Your eyes were closed, taking in his scent, the texture of his skin, the sound of his heartbeat. You were swimming. Swimming?

“H-Hwa?” You pulled away noticing your body from your waist was underwater. When did you walk into the water? Looking up at your lover you take in his gaze. It was cold, but your head felt like it was spinning, so the coldness didn’t alert you. The softness of his hands, the faint smile. He was pulling you more profoundly, but you felt no fear. His faint praises guided you, feeling your body begin to relax.

“Pretty, pretty pirate. You did so well. My perfect little pirate.” His words melted your heart, feeling the cold water surround you. His eyes weakened for a moment, feeling guilty. But as he watched you slowly submerge fully under the salt ocean, taking your last breath. He knew this was the only way. Cause, in the end, he was a siren and he can’t go against his nature.

- ♡

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐮𝐧

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

note: just a little jealous fic with ms weems <3

warning/s: light smut

The day started out with a little bit of fun that was quite predictable from your eyes when Larissa emerged from the en-suit bathroom of your shared bedroom. You were already looking at her when she found you sitting on the love seat couch in front of the tall victorian windows with a neglected newspaper in hand.

From the typical robe, you noticed her only wrapped in a white cotton towel. Its length barely reaching her mid-thighs, and you gawked, pretty fucking bad.

Her hair was damp, appearing more blonde than silvery white, you knew her hair smelt sweet with a tinge of lavender and then your eyes descended, inch by inch. The piece of cloth flaunted her skin beautifully, bringing some justice to those legs she was so eager to hide through her choice of dress and skirts. It was criminal to conceal them.

She was so pale that her cheeks down to her chest, elbows and knees were always flushed after taking steaming showers and damn it never ceased to make you drool over her. Actually, you were foaming in the mouth right now. Kidding.

“I’m flattered to know you’d rather stare at me than read those boring newspapers.” She had a whimsical grin on her pink lips while gazing at you from the vanity mirror. She then collected her expensive smelling lotion, the one that had you so addicted and began with her legs.

There was a faint blush creeping on your cheeks, by the time she was finished, “You know it’s so rude of you to shower without me.” You put the newspaper down and sauntered toward the woman’s direction.

“Oh, honey. You slept like a log. I tried waking you up.” When you reached her, her body jolted at the surprised touch when you groped her firm ass. Your arms then automatically crawl around her waist, pulling her flushed against your body.

“Mmm, you should’ve tried harder.” On the last part your tone dropped, your lips pressed on her shoulder igniting a small whimper from her own lips.

Her skin was soft and cool, contrasting your slightly calloused fingers from teaching archery but she didn’t mind. She inexplicably adored them especially when they were doing a certain task that produced the most lustful sounds from her mouth.

Larissa watched your reflection in the mirror, the way your fingers danced to unwrap the towel to your lips as they moved from her shoulder to nape, placing hot and open-mouthed kisses to her other shoulder.

Whatever products she lathered herself with, you swore there was something magical in them, something that had you going nuts about, almost obsessed. “We’re going to be late. You still have to shower and get ready.” Her head was already swimming in guilt but her body kept encouraging your touch.

Your lips never left the smooth and flushed surface of her skin, “Don’t worry, pretty. I will be quick.” You said in between kisses.

And then the towel dropped on the floor, Larissa observed the way your eyes feasted on her nude form with your lips gaping, absolutely engrossed. Her body grew hotter, she didn’t know if it was the close proximity of your bodies or the way your breath seemed to caress over her shoulder, either way, it had her squirming.

You shamelessly marvelled each slope and curve, took in the delicious sight of her protruded clavicles, the shallow bend of her waist, those breasts, those hips…You planted a sweet kiss on her neck before you turned her around and brutally kissed her lips, your hands roaming up and down her body.

Consequently, you were an hour late to this gathering that was organized in Jericho. You were compelled to go by Larissa, not leaving you with so much choice, because she claimed she would get bored out of her mind without you and honestly it made your heart flutter.

Upon entering, everyone was quick to gather around Larissa and she embarrassingly had to make up a whole excuse and constantly apologizing for tardiness. You stood behind her while holding her hands the whole time, enjoying the lies and the apparent guilt on her face with a smirk on your face.

From the corners of your eyes you caught a sight of this man, tall and broad with dark hair and cleanly shaven face, stalking around for quite some time now. You didn’t think much of it, not until Larissa excused herself to go to the restroom and found him trudging her way. He stopped her and later they hugged.

You knew it was awkward. Unpleasant as it was to the blonde, she kept a sweet charming smile on her lips and before you knew it they were walking back to your direction.

“I thought you were going to the restroom?” you whispered, eyes scanning him up and down.

Discreetly she leaned to your ear, “Well, not anymore.” While she eyed him. You nodded.

Then she stood in her full height to introduce him. “Honey, this is Victor. We were in a fencing team together and our host for today.”

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” He offered a hand, you looked down, it seemed cleaned enough.

“Victor Brush, delighted to meet you.”

“That’s quite a handsome name for a gentleman.” You said fighting the snort from coming out. A soft jab on your side made you eye the woman, “Behave.” She reprimanded.

Thank God, he was too self-absorbed to notice the little interaction. He smiled, shying his eyes away, tint of red shading his cheeks. He thought it was a compliment. Idiot, you thought.

“This might come out as rude but do you mind if I steal Larissa for a while?”

“No, no, not at all, please.” you responded through gritted teeth, again, he didn’t think of it as anything.

And he was already pulling her away from you, “I’ll be right by the bar, darling!”

For about half an hour, you walked around, hid behind people’s backs, and kept a safe distance from your woman, happy to just observe how people swoon over her and smirking as you sip your cocktail knowing they stood zero chance against you, that you knew with your whole heart, hence jealousy was a rare thing in your relationship.

But this, this Victor was testing you, getting into your nerves and it was befit to say jealousy was the root of your impending tantrum.

When Larissa turned, what she saw was exactly what she had expected to see. Larissa could differ even from a great distance if the red on your cheeks was a harmless blush or from grave annoyance, unfortunately she knew it was the latter. The frown sitting on your face merely strengthened her belief.

Bored and vexed, you unclasped your bracelet, a minimal jewelry that diminish your gifts and ability when worn. The scales from your skin glistened like glitters and you felt relief rush through your body. You hastily pocketed the precious amulet, eyes too focused on the events unfolding before you to notice it slipped from your pocket.

With a tilt of your head, the water in his hand started to swirl and then with a brief whisper to the wind, the liquid in his glass spilled to his dress shirt. It all seemed like a little mishap. But then when your eyes averted from his damp chest to find those fiery blues, they were already looking at you. You bit the grin on your lip and mouthed an apology.

When he excused himself, Larissa could only sigh, the tight smile that made her cheeks hurt finally relaxed. With a few long strides, she crossed the room, bending down quickly and stood in front of you but you didn’t notice until she spoke, “Hey, darling.” Her voice was gentle, so sweet that if you could taste it, it would be just like honey.

She offered the two of you to move by the bar, by no means to oppose her, you took her hand in yours and walked side by side. You scooted closer to her, and cautiously placed a hand on her bare thigh a little too possessively but she made no effort to remove it. As a matter of fact, she welcomed it by uncrossing her legs and spreading them apart. Thank God for the skirts.

Then you started to talk as if your hand wasn’t wandering dangerously up her thigh, “He’s a normie.” It wasn’t a question, nor an accusation. It was the truth.

“Excellent observation.”

“But how? How did he get into nevermore? Daddy’s money?” Because it was written on the invite that this gathering was exclusive only for outcasts.

“Yes, his family was well recognized and considered as the most influential at that time,” she paused, licking her plump lower lips and your gaze were quick to follow.

“His father was the mayor and he threatened the school to shut down unless the school took his son. He believed it would be good for the school’s image. That his son was in fact helping the school to gain people’s trust. Truth was, little Victor badly wanted to be an outcast, he thought by attending nevermore he would harness some sort of ability.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. He had changed to another fine cotton dress shirt, tucked neatly into his trousers and sauntering toward your wife’s direction. Oh fuck me. Quick, you saw the fish tank and well, the unimaginable happened. The water leaped from the edge of the tank, partially soaking the left side of his body, he groaned and ran his hand down his face.

“Oops.” You murmured, giggling behind your hand. The commotion earned collective gasps followed by a series of “Are you okay?” in which he only responded with a glare and stomped away, furious and embarrassed.

You had enough of your fun, concerned that if you kept doing it you might actually unleash some real troubles. When you palmed your pocket to feel the bracelet and felt it empty, panic paled your face, and your heart instantly leapt to your throat.

Larissa was amused, watched you hop off the stool and searched the floor without leaving your spot. The game would have prolonged but Larissa didn't exactly have the heart to watch your panic increase. But then she thought it might teach you a thing or two about misplacing valuable items.

Alas, she pulled the jewelry out of her purse, "Looking for this?" your head whipped to her and found the pearls in your partner's hand. Relief kicked the panic in your chest.

Your lips curved to a coy smile, mirth glistening in your eyes. "It must have slipped or something." you deadpanned, wedging yourself between her legs, "Help me put it back on, pretty?" and her cheeks were dusted off with pink blush, still ever so shy when you call her names.

Once it was secured again around your wrist, you framed her face with your hands, “Thank you." and you kissed her full red lips.

Seeing the charm return to your eyes Larissa couldn’t help but make a comment, “Done with your tantrum?”

“Honey, it was barely an outburst. I only had a little bit of fun.” You justified yourself and nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders.

When your wife’s eyes shifted down your lips, and her breath kissed your reddening ears, it tempted you to moan, “I have another idea of fun but I don’t think this is the proper place for it.” The ending of this day was already decided with the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Wife, are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”

“Yes.” And so, you grabbed her hand, eagerly dragged her across with a silly grin patched on your face before she could change her mind. Behind you, Larissa couldn’t contain the giggles as you led her out of the crowd.

This was going to be so much fun.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hi! I read SEM on Ao3 and I'm foaming at the mouth over how good it is!! I saw the Author's note at the end and immediately searched you up on this app. Might have binged read all the asks about SEM so my initial questions have been quenched by the answers you lovely individual provided :))

All I can say is SEM is exactly what I want in the Yan!Gojo fics I read; Beautifully written, poetic analogy, baby trapping , and a Yan!Gojo who doesn't hurt and torture reader physically (despite his bullying, his lackeys didn't really beat her up), and is more of an obsessive, love-drunk monster who resorts to more intimate ways to make reader stay.

God I never felt this way for a fic in so long, massive brain rot! Also, the way he reserves "Toru" just for reader is so adorable in a morbid way. When I read that when a booty call tried calling him "Toru" and he got mad I was like giggling kicking my legs like mans still subconsciously thinking about his TOTGA and that got me acting up! Looking forward for the Geto fic, you amazing human! 🫶🫶🫶

Omg the smile on my face when I saw this in my inbox???? yall are way too sweet stopppppp. Gojo gatekeeping 'toru' is just everything for me. His one-night stands can call him everything but that.

He never calls any of his booty calls 'pretty girl' but you didn't hear that from me sjdkjfkjfkldsjflkds-

If you liked my fic then I urge you to read Falling by Vanasha. Please please please go check it out if you liked Sun eats moon!!!! It’s the only reason my fic was ever created. I get so sad whenever ppl are like “omg your fics amazing” like no (well Ty:)) the only reason I ever got the inspiration was cuz of Vanasha. Go give her all the love you can plsplspls

You know what…yall don’t get the Geto fic until you give Vanasha the attention she deserves. I'm keeping SEM pt 2 hostage until you Make sure you go and leave a 2k comment or something.

[astra-dark]

Trigun fanfic recommendations!

I made a list of Trigun fic recommendations over on Twitter so I thought I’d share them here too! Some of these are spicy so mind the ratings and tags!

Echoes between stars by @faindri | Vashmeryl | Rated M

This fic is so amazing! You’ve got cat boy Vash, Meryl being a badass, action, plot twists that already have my jaw on the floor. Go read this immediately!

Sea foam by @noaafishfieldguide | Vashmeryl, Millywood | Rated T

Absolutely love this fic! If you like mermaids, small towns with big secrets, and the occasional spooky vibe, this fic is for you!

Thirty pieces of silver by @hashtagcaneven | Mashwood | Rated M

One thing y’all need to know about me is that I’m an absolute sucker for fantasy AUs and this one ticks all my boxes! It’s romantic, action packed, and beautifully written, GO READ IT!

Through the deep dark forest long by @dingusttmax | Mashwood | Rated M

Princess mononoke AU! This fic is absolutely fantastic and I love it so much that I’m currently working on binding it into a physical book

Reporter’s notes by @museqmeg | Vashmeryl | Rated M

Reporter’s notes was the first Trigun I ever read and I still love it to pieces! It’s sequels, Sheets and Snapshots, are also fantastic! Definitely a must read 💕

Separate the head and heart by Inkpot_gods | Mashwood | rated T

Did I mention I love fantasy AUs yet? this fic is absolutely fantastic and hits the fairytale vibes just right, I reread it at least once a week

Sometimes it’s heaven sent by @dingusttmax | Mashwood | Rated E

Have I ever watched pushing up daisies before? No, but I read this AU anyway and I’m so glad I did because it’s incredible and I think about this fic all the time

Fire on the mountain by Yuka_laylee | Mashwood | Rated M

This fic is SO good! I’ve never seen a Jurassic park themed AU before but it work so well and I can’t wait to see where the plot goes!

Get your hopes up by Shinzouing |Stryfewood / Mashwood | Rated E

I love me some post July Mashwood flavored Stryfewood and this is definitely my favorite one! I’ve reread this fic 4 or 5 times now and still find new things to love about it!

Heart on ripped sleeves by inkpot_gods | Mashwood | Rated E

This fic y’all, this FIC! It’s made me laugh at points and it also made sobbed so hard I had to take walk because of it, it’s so good. I haven’t got to read it’s sequels yet but I can’t wait to!

Runaway roots by starcrxssed | Mashwood | Rated E

This fic a bit heavier than my other recs so please mind the tags if you decide to read it but it’s still fantastic! I’m not usually one for strangers to lovers but this one is just 👌

The Lighthouse by EloFromMars | Vashwood | Rated E

I love me some spooky creature/ crypid Vash and this fic delivers just that and then some! I love all the Millywood friendship moments we get in here, it’s so nice to see how much they care about each other!

Hold me like a grudge by Lenipez | Mashwood | Rated T

I absolutely love fairies in fiction so this fic was already right up my alley! I love the how each side of the relationship has a different dynamic so far, I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds. My favorite part of the fic tho? Meryl calls Wolfwood kitten

Till forever falls apart by @chaoticbuka | Vashwood | Rated E

Or the alternate title “Buka hits me specifically right in the heartstrings” the fic lol but seriously I love this fic, the way that Wolfwood’s Vash haunts the narrative like the ghost that Nick originally should be is so good! As a side note, Vash has freckles here and I need more of that in my life 💕

A multitude of sins by DespiteWhatShouldBeOtherwise | Vashwood | Rated M

I’m only half way through this fic rn but it’s already so amazing! The romance might be slow burn but the plot is so engaging that you’re never bored and wondering when the romance will pick up. As a Meryl lover, I absolutely love that she’s so important to not only both Vash and Wolfwood but also the story itself.

[ddarker-dreams]

THAT GOJO FIC THOUGH??? an absolute masterpiece and soooo beautifully written. definitely felt super in character for him - equal parts eerie, entitled, and light-hearted? loved loved loved it.

i’m curious (not necessarily a request…unless?) just want to pick your brain about what that relationship between gojo and reader might look like as adults or a few years in the future. does his yandede tendency worsen? does reader ever try to leave or just accept how things are? what, if anything, would anger your interpretation of yan!gojo? how does he keep reader under his thumb for so many years? do others understand what he’s doing and what their relationship truly is? what even is their relationship? haha i’m so sorry i just loved your gojo so much and am foaming at the mouth for any more scraps you may have to offer

THANK YOU VERY MUUUUUUUUUCH there's something about questionable men that turns my pupils into hearts each and every time.

as for your questions, let's see... first and foremost, i've decided that the fic i discussed writing is like the 'baseline' universe with 'it's graduation, isn't it?' being a branching yandere narrative (or AU i guess)?? i came up with a backstory for the darling in IGII and thought it had enough potential to be explored further. so, all this to say that i'm working on the main story right now which will flesh out reader's relationship with shoko, geto, and gojo in particular. this'll give additional context to the relationship gojo and reader have in the yandere fic! for their time in high school, i've decided to split the story into three main arcs, each one taking place during reader's time as a first year, second year, and third year. (i have ideas for post high school-to the present day in when the main events of JJK pick up, but i'll focus on that later).

here's a general overview of the start of the fic. presently, its working title is 'golden girl.'

2005 — reader's first year arc.

takes place primarily from reader's perspective with the occasional shift to omniscient perspective. reader's from another country, so she's unfamiliar with all the politics/bureaucracy in japan's jujutsu scene. in-depth look at her first day at jujutsu tech, her initial impressions of shoko, gojo, and geto. gojo does something that reader views as irresponsible, kickstarting their decades long relationship with reader disliking him 😭

exploring the quintet's dynamic with one another. reader still thinks gojo is annoying, is okay with geto but finds something about him mildly unnerving, gets along best with shoko. gojo has intense 'kindergarden boy pulling the hair of the girl he has a crush on' energy. reader sloooooooowly warms up to him.

reader at this point has a rose-tinted view of jujutsu society. while she isn't ignorant to the reality sorcerers face when going about their jobs, she assumes everyone at the top must get along so everyone can best preserve the public's safety. can't fathom why it'd be any different. as such, the story's tone up until this point has a slice of life-esque vibe.

the first real conflict in this arc comes in the form of an assignment gojo, geto, and reader receive. a zenin sorcerer got whooped on what should've been an easy job, dirtying the family's image. to rectify this, the zenins pester jujutsu tech to send in the heavy artillery (aka gojo and geto) so it looks like the job was so difficult, some of the best sorcerers had to handle it. reader is also requested to join them for reasons that'll be revealed later.

(more under the cut because whewie this got long)

gojo and geto can pretty much see through the petty politics going on. they explain the machinations to reader, who decides to take the assignment serious regardless. gojo in particular is very blasé about the entire thing because one, that big ass ego and two, he's a teen. bad combo.

the assignment itself takes place in an abandoned nursery on the outskirts of nagoya. here, the three encounter the curse 'the caretaker' and its 'little ones.' now it's psychological horror time. gojo's arrogance exacerbated by reader's insistence on following protocol clash bad. the fight ends up not being so simple after all due to the curse's abilities. they eventually realize reader's cursed technique is Suspiciously best suited to work as a counter, but at grave risk and damage to herself. thanks zenins. ultimately, reader pulls it off, but receives heavy injuries in the process. gojo and geto are pissed about this entire thing. character development for the squad that'll play into their themes into adulthood (gojo's wish to upend the higher-ups, geto's disillusionment with jujutsu society, and a secret third thing for reader).

in what will serve as a parallel for post star plasma arc, the three are able to 'overcome' the event enough and grow closer for it. everyone's coping mechanisms kinda sucks but not to the degree it'll suck after the events of post star plasma arc.

reader's like oh boy, that was an eventful first year haha! i sure hope my second year isn't anywhere near as chaotic haha! :)

as for where the narrative would branch into a yandere AU, that'd take place mostly in reader's third year. personally, i think gojo would be a bit of an unhealthy weirdo no matter what in a romantic relationship, but just not to the Full yandere extent. so you'll see him up to some questionable shenanigans even in the main fic.

i apologize, i ended up laser focusing on gojo's relationship with reader so much that i didn't really answer your other questions GJSDKLFS i just feel like the events of the main story will go on to shape yandere and non yandere gojo's behavior with reader enough that without context, it won't make as much sense.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

The High Lord and the Selkie

"Lord long have I loved you, as a selkie on the foam, I would gladly go and wed thee and be lady of your home, but to stay on land past midnight, it would surely be my death."

Tarquin Bonus chapter, can stand alone. Influenced heavily by The Maiden and the Selkie by Heather Dale.

I've been in my Tarquin feels recently, he needs some love. Bonus chapter for A Court Reborn. Also this is Pro Tamlin, he doesn't have a large part, but does show up towards the end.

Word Count: 3085

Tarquin art // Ocean Art // Selkie Art

One cool Summer morning, before the Sun rose fully to heat the land, Tarquin sat out on the private fishing pier at the edge of his estate, pants rolled up to his knees, legs dangling above the clean Sea water. This was his favorite place, he would come here every chance he could get to just sit and watch the Sea. More than half of his life was spent trapped under the mountain, facing disgusting cruelties daily, never able to feel the Sun on his skin, he would not take the sight of the waves rolling in and the smells of the salty air for granted.

As a small child, his mother would take him to this very spot and teach him how to swim. He would run full speed into the water forcing his mother to dive in after him. His heart ached, now all he had left of her were his memories. Her sweet smile, the way her voice always softened when speaking to him, how he never had any doubt that she would protect him, and she did. Until her dying breath. Until Amarantha waved that ugly wrist of hers and stole her from him. Such a small gesture, movement, and his entire world was ripped out from under him.

No. He had to stop himself. The dark thoughts of those days always found a way to creep back in. “Remember your mother as she lived, don't let Amarantha continue to steal your light.” he would tell himself in times like this. He wanted nothing more than to forget that horrid witch.

He continued watching the waves crash into the pier, it was high tide so every now and then the Sea water would splash and kiss his feet gently. He liked to believe that was his mother, reaching out to him to remind him that she will always be with him. As the sun rose above the horizon, the sky was painted in the most beautiful shades of oranges and yellows. Sometimes, he felt like the sea was staring back at him. He felt a strong pull towards the sea, he considered it a side effect of his High Lord powers.

Just below the surface of the water, a selkie watched him longingly. Her seal eyes allowed her to see through the waves, and for months now she would leave the safety of her underwater town and travel close to the surface, just to get a glimpse of the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

Her name was Maive and she was the daughter of a decently well off Seal Lord. Well, would be well off if she wasn’t one of eight girls. She was the fourth born, middle child that no one paid too much attention to. She had grown to cherish the freedom that came with it. She could shed her seal coat and join her friends at parties in Adriata without anyone noticing she was gone. But, if she ever allowed herself to think too hard about it, she would long for someone who would care. Someone to notice when she's had a rough day, or even remember that her favorite color was teal, not pink.

She watched the male intensely, hoping that one day he would shed his clothes and jump in the water, or that she would be able to muster the courage to crawl on land and say something to him, anything. His white loc’d hair hung down to his mid chest and contrasted his dark brown skin beautifully. She dreamed of his gorgeous face, his light blue eyes, wide nose and could only imagine what a smile would look like on those lovely full lips. It was obvious he was a “High Fae” as they called themselves, and she was a “lesser fae.” Lesser. That’s what his people thought of her. Lesser. Even if she ever did get a chance to hear his voice, he would never think of her as more than just a subject. That's what her sisters told her. That's why we stay in the ocean and rarely go ashore.

She had heard different sentiments though. When the Red haired witch's curse was broken, a new High Lord of Summer returned, one who dreamed of bridging the divide between High and Lesser fae. The rumors were spotty and she picked up what she could during her trips, but she was barely 70 years of age, most of her friends didn’t like discussing politics. She had heard enough to scrounge up a little bit of childish hope. Even if that's all it ever became, she would allow herself this fantasy, happiness was happiness, even if it was fleeting.

Maive felt a twinge of sadness as Tarquin rose to leave. She knew he wouldn’t stay out here all day, and she cursed herself for, once again, not having the gall to speak to him. She knew her Fae form was beautiful to the people of Adriata. Her seal coat looked more or less like her sisters, black beady eyes that helped her see through the waves, soft gray skin and a cute belly that kept her warm in the ocean depths. But when she shed her coat and joined her friends on shore, the hair on her head was long, to the backs of her knees, a pale greenish color, her skin a darker shade of green with near black freckles lining her cheeks and nose. She doubted it was enough to win the heart of a High Fae male.

♥♥♥♥♥

A few days later, Maive had snuck off to visit her friend, Marielle, and plan their outfits for the upcoming ball at the Summer castle. High Lord Tarquin had sent out flyers inviting everyone in Adriata to the large party he was throwing at his seaside estate. A celebration for winning the war, and the breaking of the curse. The repairs in the city were finally coming to completion. Maive’s knowledge of Prythian current events was lacking considering she would die if she even tried to stay on land past midnight.

“We have to find the perfect dresses,” Marielle gushed excitedly to Maive, “this party will be High Fae and Lesser Fae, do you understand how big this is? We’ve never been welcome at the castle! Maybe this new High Lord is true to his word.” Marielle was a urisk and always kept Maive informed of everything happening on land. “Your mystery man could be there” She teased with a knowing smile.

“Will you stop it!” Maive giggled, “I’m already nervous enough as it is!” Marielle would tease Maive for her crushes and Maive would tease Marielle for her lack of crushes. Marielle, while she loved the parties and dancing, she had never shown much interest in romance for herself. She was content and happy, living in her little apartment in the city square, all her own. She could do as she pleased, stay up as late as she wanted, and invite over whoever she wanted. She had a healthy amount of platonic friends and that filled her heart.

♥♥♥♥♥

The day of the ball, the girls along with a few more friends, gathered back at Marielles apartment to get ready. Her house was the closest, so it required the least amount of walking to the castle. Maive had picked out a shimmery blue gown that made her dark green skin glow. It had skinny straps and a flowing neckline, just enough to showcase her favorite part of her body, her shoulders and neck, and flared out into a mermaid cut at the knees. Marielle curled her hair and added bright green shimmery eyeshadow to Maive’s eyelids. She felt like royalty.

As the girls entered the castle, excited and giggly, it took mere seconds for Maive to spot him. It's like she was pulled towards him. The entire world stopped and she froze as his eyes shifted towards, and caught on her. He was the High Lord Tarquin.

As Tarquin was entertaining the courtiers and citizens in the ballroom, his attention was abruptly pulled toward the door and whatever he was saying left his mind completely. He saw a beautiful young fae, with dark emerald skin and a cute round face. Her big black eyes shimmered in the lights of the ballroom. “Excuse me,” he said, barely looking back to the people he was just speaking to. He was in a trance, he had to talk to her.

Maive shifted her eyes to Marielle, the anticipation looked like fear at first thought, she expected she would have a bit more time, as the nerves grew she reached out for Marielles hand. “Do you see him?” Marielle knew what was going on, she had assumed Maive would be overwhelmed and chose to stay near. “Him? That's Tarquin.” Marielle exclaimed in an excited whisper, noticing Tarquin making his way toward her she added, “no backing out now, just be yourself, I will be close by. You got this.”

“Excuse me, Lady, may I have this dance?” Tarquin tried to hide his shaking, he felt just as nervous as Maive did. All she could manage was a nod as she carefully took his hand. A lump in her throat, led her to believe her voice would crack if she tried to speak. Their eyes had not left each other. She allowed him to lead her to the middle of the ballroom. All eyes fell to them, but neither noticed. As they began to dance, their nerves melted away.

Maive had never learned how to ballroom dance, but following Tarquins lead was easy. It came naturally to her. Chrisseada saw what was happening and took over Tarquins entertaining duties. Her cousin deserved this, and it made her heart happy seeing him happy.

As the music slowed, Tarquin pulled Maive into his chest, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. She smiled and rested her head on his chest.

They danced through the night, neither wanting to let go of the other, even for a moment. Until, that is, Marielle cut in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it is 11:30,” Marielle whispered to Maive, “you need to be heading out now if you are to make it to the sea in time.”

For the first time in her life, Maive resented her binds to the ocean. She looked at Tarquin with sadness in those big dark eyes, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” The words were hard to speak, but she trusted Marielle was looking out for her. Letting go of his hand was harder.

Tarquin pulled her in close, one last time and whispered in her ear “Do you trust me?” She shook her head ‘yes’ and he winnowed them to the shoreline.

Her head spun as she took in her surroundings and noted the feel of the sand seeping into her sandals. Tarquins arms felt like home to her, not her city underwater. She wanted nothing more than to stay. “I am sorry, I just needed a few more minutes with you.” His voice was like a beautiful melody in her ear, now that she could hear it clearly. “What is your name?” He needed to hear her voice again, too.

“Maive,” she whispered, looking up at him, trying to process the absolute perfection of this evening, not wanting it to end, ever.

“Maive,” He repeated, she had never loved her name more than hearing it on his lips. It dripped graciously from them like honey. He leaned in to kiss her, and her heart began to beat faster, until she had a thought that cut it off before it even happened.

“My coat!!” She cried. You would think she knew to keep better track of it, given it is her life on the line, but she can’t help being aloof at times. She began searching for it frantically, she usually left it under the pier by Marielles apartment, but Tarquin hadn’t winnowed them to the same spot she entered from. Tarquin understood and immediately began helping her look for it.

“Is this what you are looking for?” Tarquin asked innocently, holding up the soft, but heavy, gray coat.

“Put that down. You don’t know what this would mean.” Maive reluctantly cried. For another Fae to return her seal coat to her, they would be wed. It couldn’t happen this way. She wanted him to choose her, not be bound to her by tradition.

He listened and set it on the ground, and took a few steps back. She ran to slip it on, halfway, and Tarquin led her into the water.

Tarquin held her close to his chest, forehead pressed to hers as the moon rose directly above them. “I will find a way. I promise,” he breathed as a tear escaped, running down her cheek. She kissed him deeply, there were no fireworks, no butterflies, she felt safe, calm. It was better than she had ever fantasized.

“Goodbye, Tarquin,” she gave him a soft smile as she dipped under the waves and returned to her seal family.

♥♥♥♥♥

Tarquin had called to meet with the three people whom he trusted and would know the best. He winnowed to the front door of the Spring Court manor just as Sky had done a month prior upon their first meeting. The trellises scaled the building and were covered in red roses, Spring was healing. That sentiment made him happy. During the reign of Amarantha, Tamlin had taken Summer court citizens in, even celebrated the Solstice to provide them some form of comfort in the times Tarquin was trapped under the mountain. Tarquin always believed that Tamlin had a good heart under all of that stone.

“I have a meeting with the High Lord, Tamlin” Tarquin held his head high and spoke confidently, as Crisseada commanded him to. The guards led him through the halls of the manor and he noted how much repair has been done in such a short time. It was only a few months ago that Tarquin had seen the Manor in complete ruin following Hyberns attack. At the time he hadn’t fully understood why Tamlin chose to side with Hybern, but when Tarquin saw him show up to the battlefield, hand around Barons throat to turn the tide, and ultimately win the war for Prythia, he knew Tamlin was smarter than he was given credit for.

He entered the large meeting room with a circular table in the middle. Tamlin, Sky and Lucien were already there waiting on him. Sky gave him a big smile and a tight hug. “Welcome to Spring, High Lord Tarquin,”

Tamlin and Lucien shook his hand and Tarquin was nervous as he sat down. “You seem to be more.. cheerful than the last time we saw you, Tarquin, what’s going on?” Tamlin asked lightly, noticing Tarquins nerves.

Tarquin wasn’t sure how to begin. He suspected Maive to be his mate, but a High Lord mated to a – he stopped himself even in his thoughts, we won't use those terms anymore. She is a Selkie, nothing about her is Lesser. “I have a bit of a predicament, and I thought who better to ask than the three of you. With Skys otherworldly wisdom, Lucien’s knowledge of Prythia due to being a well traveled emissary, and Tamlins.. Shapeshifting, I was hoping the four of us could come up with a way for me… to wed my mate.” The last few words came out cautiously.

Sky gasped and smiled wide, “What is her name? Where did yall meet?? What's keeping you apart?” Her excitement steadily decreased.

“Her name is Maive and she is a Selkie.” Tarquin announced proudly. All three of them immediately understood the predicament, but Lucien flinched. Memories of Jesminda, of when he tried to wed a lower class fae, flooded in. Tarquin wasn't much older than Lucien was when he lost Jesminda. He reassured himself that Tarquins situation is different, for starters, Tarquin doesn’t have Baron breathing down his neck.

“I have never heard of a selkie remaining on land and living to dawning, have you, Sky?” Lucien thought aloud.

“Never,” Sky responded and Tarquin shrank in disappointment. “We could ask Helion? I’m sure there is something in his lib–”

“No.” Lucien snapped, but softened quickly. “If word gets out, the older High Lords will seek to kill her. They do not like those they view as lesser than them marrying into power.”

“I would never let anything happen to her.” Tarquin assumed Lucien was insinuating he was too weak to protect his own people. To protect her. He still held shame for allowing the Night Court to steal from him.

“You might not have the chance, if we erupt into civil war.” Lucien warned. Two completely different wounds clashing. Neither meant harm or disrespect.

“What if you resided in the sea? Instead of her leaving her home behind, you join her?” Tamlin diverted the subject back to the reason for the meeting, noticing the tension. Tamlin knew both Tarquin and Lucien's reasons, but that can be clarified at a different time.

“My powers revolve more around bringing the sea to land, I cannot breathe underwater if that's what you are asking. My beast form can. But I need rage to shift into beast form and when I am around her, all I feel is calm. I have tried all I can think of.” Tarquin clarified.

“What if you could shift without the rage?” Tarquin was confused at Tamlins question, he just told him he couldn’t. Tamlin stretched out his hand to Tarquin and in it, a kernel of his power. Lucien, Sky and Tarquins eyes all widened in shock. “When we revived Feyre, she was able to retain a small amount of each of our powers, who is to say you wouldn't? I’ve done this twice before, I doubt you would need to be dead to accept it. And you are far more deserving than the last prick I gave one to.” Tarquin accepted the kernel and took it in his hand. “You, hopefully, will be able to at least shift yourself some gills. I can help teach you, and I’m sure Sky and Lucien will continue searching for a way for her to stay on land.”

“Are you sure?” Tarquin whispered. Was it really that easy? Just one small kindness from the neighboring High Lord to ease the biggest burden plaguing Tarquin these days. Tarquin pressed the kernel into his chest.

Tag list for main fic: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover @julesvanslutta

@theegemini92 also expressed interest ❤️

[hyperblue]

The first thing Kon does for Marie as a mother of his children is to help her feed them. He would like to be there when the attempts were successful and their children appeared in the future at all, to be there and hold her hand when they when their children were born.

It didn't happen, but the most important thing is that he is here, alive and ready to literally move mountains for them. Marie is too surprised to see him alive, Kon smiles tenderly and gently almost imperceptibly touches her shoulder, he gently reminds them of their children who are hungry and miss their mother. Maris switches to this thought and a bitter and obvious guilt flashes in her eyes. She quietly, most likely just voicing her thoughts, says that maybe her milk was gone and the children forgot about her, so smalls and in need of their mother, and she just left them.

Kon says with a smile of empty cheerful chatter that this is not so, Marie's things were lying in the children's crib, unwashed and smelling brightly of her, the children slept peacefully only if they were covered with her T-shirt, and Kon still took a tank top for himself. They sit on the bed, Marie takes off her T-shirt, Kon involuntarily admired how beautifully her hair fell, he helps her pull down the strap of a layered bra shade of sea foam and their little girl clings to her mother with a quiet sob, it looks touching and beautiful.

Kon is holding their son, bright warmth flashes in his heart and spreads all over his body sweet and smooth as honey, he only now fully understands the picture of what is happening - Maris is a mother and she is absolutely gorgeous in this incarnation of femininity, she is the mother of his children and Kon loves her.

Maris snuggles against his chest, her back is sharp and thin with protruding bones, it feels so delicious to feel her next to them, their son is quite snuffling in his sleep, and the daughter, who has satisfied her hunger, snuggles up to her mother and Kon gently touches the top of her head. They are a family, new and sloppy, they have a lot to do in the future, there will be ups and downs, good days and bad, but most importantly they are together and they love each other.

Thanks for the day, thanks for the night,

Thanks for the son and for the daughter,

Thanks that among pain and evilYou managed to save our little world

"wish i was there," he tells her while children are sleeping, mindlessly braiding her hair with his ttk. it's soft, way thicker than he remembers from her robin days, ends brushing her shoulders instead of curling right under her chin, "to help you with them from the start."

something bitter finds its way to her smile.

"if you were there from the start, they wouldn't even exist."

"well, i mean. in that case we'd probably wait until at least 25, but..."

she leans forward to rest her forehead on her knees and half-laughs, half-cries, just like that.

"please. you didn't even know i was in love with you."

"to be fair, you didn't know i was in love with you, too. so no one of us gets to talk."

[marquisedegramont]

sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

SUMMARY: The day before Helen is expected to die. John grapples with grief and the torment of losing someone he cares.

grief/mourning, character study, handling grief

read on ao3 | inspired by sunlight | 456 wc

THE DAY BEFORE Helen is expected to die.

(God. Please don’t take her.)

Maybe John deserves nothing. Maybe he was put on this earth for the simple reason to suffer because why should he live perfectly? Why be given the pleasure of human life?

A day in the cold house, John is alone—so alone; he can feel each pulse of his heart thrum from within his rib cage. Helen is gone, but maybe, just maybe, she has a chance.

Helen has turned him optimistic. She is everything opposite to him, she is everything the Director condemned, she is sunlight, she is the sun, she is the soft breeze in the morning, she is the light bells of local cafe doors opening chiming, she is everything. She is brimming with life. She will be buried.

Sometimes, John silently prays.

(God, please don’t take her. Not her. Please. God, please, don’t take her from this earth, please, please, please just don’t take her. He wonders if his desperate pleas to God and heaven above are even taken into consideration. Or even heard. Or maybe God never really cared for him. Maybe God has abandoned him and he’s suffering because of it.)

How human it is to finally feel suffering. John sits at the edge of the bed, and there is already grief piling up in him. This is the world around him, so grey and unfortunate—dim and miserable. The sunlight outside doesn’t seem so bright anymore. The sun is gone.

What sin as he committed for God to take her but not him? John sits at the edge of the bed, wearing a mangled expression of grief and tragedy, and hope and wishing, and begging and pleading, and distraught and anger. Anger pointed to God. Anger pointed to himself.

His phone is in his hands, everything in life feels disgustingly hollow. There was a time in John’s life—Helen—where everything felt fulfilling. He watches the videos of her in his phone, journaling through pictures and videos because he never could quite write his conflicting thoughts into words. Helen could, she seemed to be so poetic, words so beautifully sounded and written it made her seem otherworldly.

“What are you doing, John?” Helen’s voice is soft with the sea gently running along the beach, sea foam touching the tips of both of their feet.

John wants to go back here.

“Looking at you.” John wants to look at her again, outside, not chained to a hospital bed. He had everything. He was close to it. He was so close to heaven and yet he fell, and he fell hard.

(God, do you hear me? God, please don’t take her so soon. What did I do for you to take her?)

Maybe this is why she taught pain so harshly.