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jasmynmorning · 4 months
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"Grieving the loss of his mother, Micah's life takes an unexpected turn when he is gifted an ancient mirror and whisked away to Song Crye. In this enchanting forest, he crosses paths with a mysterious man, igniting an unexpected romance that challenges all of Micah's preconceived notions about his identity. But as their bond deepens, they face an ominous presence that threatens to change their destinies forever. With each step closer to the truth, Micah finds himself increasingly entangled in a maze of betrayal and forbidden desires, compelling him to grapple with the essence of loving without conditions. "The Shadowbearer's Curse" initiates a saga of self-discovery, deception, and the enduring shadows that reside within each of us. The first installment of "The Shadowbearer Trilogy" invites readers to join Micah on an epic journey to discover whether his liberation resides in yielding to the darkness, seeking out the light, or embracing the grey area in between." Book 1 of "The Shadowbearer Trilogy," 'The Shadowbearer's Curse,' will be published in 2024. More updates soon!
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ariellam-blog · 4 months
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Fated Mates, But Make them Platonic (amongst other things)
I’m naturally drawn to stories about soul mates. I wanted to write a story that shifted away from the idea that soul mates were romantic connections between two people and toward something that is better reflected in the vast majority of relationships.
I’m naturally drawn to stories about soul mates. I love the idea that there are people on this earth that are so well matched it’s like their souls are connected. It’s one that has stuck with me through my Catholic childhood and my secular adulthood.  Something I don’t love about the traditional concept of soul mates is that they’re inherently romantic. Sex and the City tried to turn this…
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luxshine · 2 years
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Today is my friend Melissa Gibbo's Birthday, and here's a fan cover I made for her amazing book Boredom Kills. You wanna give her a great gift? Get her book! Or, if you have already read it, Leave a review!
Trust me, you will love the story of a serial killer who falls in love with the cop investigating her crimes. Because Murder is Easy, Dating is Hard.
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thebibliosphere · 7 months
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Okay, well, I was planning to build up some hype, but
🦇🎃HAPPY HALLOWEEN🎃🦇
Lorehaven Bound: A Hunger Pangs Short is now available on Amazon.
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A train ride through the Nevrondian countryside should be a calming proposition, but for Ursula, it isn't. Her thoughts swirl, fixated on one thing... make that two things. Specifically Nathan Northland and Vlad Blutstein. It's not just because they are both breath-stealingly attractive—although to be fair, that doesn't hurt. It's because they surprised her, and Ursula is very rarely surprised.
Even more confounding is her reaction to them, particularly the vampire, Vlad. Just what is she supposed to do about these... feelings?
All Ursula knows is that she doesn't have time for emotions right now. Not when the fate of the world is at stake. She can deal with this later. First, she's got to figure out what story she's going to tell the sure-to-be-furious Alfbern. Then, she needs to catch up on all the sleep she missed before hitting the road again. Surely, she can do those things while being Lorehaven Bound.
*
This story is a 10,000-word character study/missing moment that takes place immediately after Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites. You will want to read that first if you don't want to be spoiled for the events in that book!
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💖 Available now on Amazon
💖 Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, and more... (links still populating.)
💖Payhip - my personal storefront 💖
Happy reading!
Okay, thanks, love you all, bye.
ID: A red book cover showing a feminine figure standing in front of a steam strain. The title reads Lorehaven Bound, A Hunger Pangs short by International Bestselling Author Joy Demorra. There is a glittery crystal next to the text, and gold decorative swirls adorn the corners.
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mcdynamite · 1 year
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CWs: discussions of sexuality (particularly demisexuality, though Steve and Eddie don’t know a term for it at the time), VERY mild sexual context
Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.
He's not, like, trying to brag about it, or anything. Frankly, he's not even sure it's something he would want to brag about in the first place. It's just an objective fact.
The sky is blue. The Earth is round. Water is wet.
And Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.
Which is...well, a little bit bizarre, considering the fact that he's not entirely convinced he actually enjoys it most of the time.
At first, he chalks it up to inexperience. Everyone's first times were a little bit awkward, weren't they? Maybe everyone felt weird and a little bit off-kilter the first time someone touched them like that. Maybe everyone felt icky for hours afterwards, like something was just off. Steve had spent his childhood going to church on Sundays (at least, until he turned 10, and Richard and Susan decided he no longer needed luxuries like parents), so maybe it was just guilt.
That was a thing, right? Catholic guilt, or whatever? He'll get over it. He's sure of it.
Only...he's less sure of it several months later, when he still can't get rid of that stupid icky feeling, and he can never quite grasp what Tommy is talking about whenever the dude starts obsessing over wanting to fuck some pretty actress in whatever movie they’re watching. When he’s with a girl, he feels anxious the moment clothes start to come off, despite the fact that he wants this. He wants to have sex. He wants someone to touch him and make him feel good. He wants to do the same for someone else. But it always feels wrong.
The only part he really likes is what comes after, when he can wrap his arms around whatever girl he's with that week and just hold her - no more sex required, now that it's over and done with. That part feels good. Amazing, even. He loves having someone to cuddle up with - to make him feel less alone in his fucking mausoleum of a house. It's nice. It feels good.
He's pretty sure it's the only reason he keeps having sex in the first place. It's like a transaction. Steve gets the girls off, and in exchange, they stick around for a little while afterwards to fill the echoing silence of Steve's house with soft laughter and quiet words.
And sure...sometimes Steve sort of falls apart after they leave to get home before their curfews. Usually, it just leaves him feeling squirmy and anxious. But sometimes, when it's especially bad, Steve sits on the floor of the shower with his arms around his knees for ages and cries until the water gets cold, unable to wash the icky feeling away.
He knows he should stop doing this to himself, but God, he's so fucking lonely, and now he's made a reputation for himself. Now there are expectations, and if Steve has learned one thing from Richard Harrington, it's that living up to expectations is the most important thing in life.
So he keeps doing it. His technique gets better, despite how wrong he feels, and the girls keep coming. And Steve keeps wondering what the fuck is wrong with him - why he feels physically pleasured enough to come most of the time, but always hates himself afterwards.
Then, at the beginning of his junior year, he starts dating Nancy Wheeler.
He knows right away that this feels different from any of his other flings. Nancy is sweet, and smart, and just a bit of a firecracker, and Steve loves it. Even better, she doesn't try to get him into bed on their first date, or their second, or even their third. It's not until the pool party that things take a more intimate turn between them, and by then, Steve is smitten.
He waits for the ick to kick in while he caresses her and kisses her everywhere - waits for the feeling of weirdbadwrong to make itself known - but this time... it doesn't. This time, Steve looks down at his partner and is stunned by how beautiful she looks. It's never been like this with any of the other girls - he's never wanted any of them quite like this - and for the first time, Steve really, genuinely enjoys having sex.
There's no ick; no uncomfortable feeling in his belly that sort of makes him feel ill. There's just Nancy, who looks and sounds beautiful, and smiles at him as they doze off together afterwards. It's amazing. It's perfect.
Steve thinks that maybe he's normal, after all.
He should know better than to get his hopes up, by now.
The next year is a whirlwind of absolute insanity. There are monsters, and alternate dimensions, and little kids with honest-to-God superpowers, and funerals... and sex becomes the least of Steve's worries.
He and Nancy are only intimate a handful of other times, after that first night (it's hard to get in the mood when all either of them can think about is how the first time they did this, her best friend was dying), and despite everything else going on, the ick, at least, stays away. It seems to be proof that Steve isn't broken or weird. He just needed some time to get used to sex.
He realizes how wrong he is the first time he tries to hook up with someone after Nancy breaks his heart, when the ick comes back. After that, he only tries once more, and then he just stops trying to score entirely... pretends he's just lost his touch and feels secretly relieved every time Robin Buckley puts a tally under the "You Suck" side of the whiteboard in the back room.
It goes on like this until March of 1986, when Eddie Munson comes barrelling into his life and changes everything.
His relationship with Eddie is unlike any he's ever had. They start out as tentative friends after everything with Vecna is finally over, and then it grows from there.
They hang out with the kids at Steve's place, which eventually turns into them hanging out without the kids. They talk about the weather, and the Upside Down, and music, and DnD campaigns. Anything and everything that comes to mind. Eddie tells Steve how he came to live with Wayne, and in return, Steve tells Eddie about his parents - about how he sometimes feels like he's haunting his own home.
(Eddie starts making excuses to stay the night more often, after that conversation, and Steve doesn't mention it, but he notices.)
And one day he looks over at Eddie, who's talking animatedly to El while Steve pops popcorn for their movie night, and suddenly, it hits him like a goddamn truck.
Eddie Munson is beautiful.
Steve can barely breathe as the realization takes hold, because he's not used to seeing people this way. He can appreciate when someone is objectively attractive, sure, but he rarely looks at someone and wants like this. He rarely looks at a person and wonders what their lips would feel like against his own, or what sort of sounds they make when they come, or what they'd look like with Steve's love bites riddling their skin...
He's only looked at one other person this way before: Nancy, after they'd been dating for a few weeks and had gotten to know each other better.
He's so shocked by the sheer amount of wanting he's feeling for Eddie that he blows right past the gay panic part of his bisexual awakening, straight into bumbling idiot with a crush territory.
And really, it must be obvious, because two weeks later, Eddie's gaze locks onto Steve's while they're sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, and Eddie smiles. It's a soft, gentle thing - so different from the maniacal grins he gives the kids when they're all hanging out together - and it steals all of the breath from Steve's lungs. His heart races as the air around them shifts, and for once, it's out of excitement rather than anxiety.
Eddie's voice is devastatingly timid when he murmurs, "Stevie, can I kiss you?"
Steve feels like he could cry out of happiness. His answer is a simple nod, and when Eddie kisses him slowly, sweetly, chastely, Steve can feel any remaining anxiety melting away.
Because this kiss isn't a demand, or a prelude to all of those other activities that Steve wants but isn't sure he's quite ready for with Eddie, yet. It's not a challenge.
It's a promise - a promise that this thing that's been blossoming between them over the last few months is real. Wordlessly, Eddie vows to treat him with care, and Steve does the same in kind.
And it's perfect.
They take things slow - slower than Steve and Nancy did, and definitely slower than Steve's ever gone with anyone else. Steve doesn't ask for sex, now that he no longer has a persona to uphold, and Eddie doesn't push. They're both perfectly content to share soft kisses and quiet words while they lay tangled together in one of their beds with their pajamas on, for now.
It takes more than a month for Eddie to bring it up.
"Baby, can I ask you something?" Eddie asks quietly.
They're curled up in Steve's bed after a long day taking the kids swimming at the quarry, and neither of them have said much for the last half hour or so. Eddie has been flipping through one of his D&D books, and Steve has been laying with his head pillowed on Eddie's chest, listening to his boyfriend's occasional mutterings about tieflings and trolls and some sort of forest quest. He's not even sure Eddie realizes he mutters to himself while he reads, and that just makes Steve love it even more.
Steve just hums sleepily and props his chin on Eddie's sternum to look up at him, face immediately falling into a frown. Eddie looks contemplative and a little nervous, and Steve already hates whatever this conversation is going to be about. He doesn't like it when Eddie is upset. It breaks his heart every time.
Swallowing thickly, he pushes himself off of Eddie's chest so they can lay on their sides facing each other, hands tangling between them because they're always touching these days. "What's up, Eds?" Steve asks. He hopes his voice is encouraging and doesn't give away the anxiety beginning to roll in his stomach.
Eddie hesitates, face scrunching up adorably like it always does when he's thinking too hard about something.
"We don't have sex," Eddie finally blurts out unceremoniously.
Steve's heart plummets, but he tries to keep his tone light when he speaks. "Is there a question in that...?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Eddie won't meet his eyes, and it makes Steve feel strangely off-kilter. Eddie hasn't been this skittish around him in months.
"I don't know, just... doesn't that bother you, or something?" he says finally.
Steve deflects. "Does it bother you?"
He's dreading Eddie's answer.
But he only dreads it for a moment, because Eddie's eyes go wide and apologetic immediately. "No! No, Stevie, I'm fine with what we've been doing," Eddie says quickly. "I mean, I want to do more, you know? But it's totally fine if you don't. I guess I'm just worried I'm... boring you?"
Steve's expression must be incredulous, because Eddie backtracks instantly.
"Wow, okay, that sounded way worse out loud than it did in my head. Jesus H. Christ," Eddie sighs.
"Why would you think you're boring me?" Steve asks, unable to let it go, because it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing Eddie has ever said (and that is a high bar to clear). In what world could Eddie - funny, unpredictable, unbearably sweet Eddie - be boring?
Eddie winces, then shrugs. "I don't know, man, you're just..." He pauses; Steve waits. "You're Steve Harrington, you know? It's not exactly a secret that you got around while we were in school. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!" Eddie clarifies. "Whatever you did before doesn't bother me because it doesn't matter anymore, right? But you obviously like having sex, and we obviously haven't done anything more than kiss yet, and I was just wondering if that bothered you, I guess..."
For a moment, Steve considers lying. He considers telling Eddie that it doesn't bother him, but that he's ready for more if Eddie is, because it sounds like Eddie might be, and Steve doesn't want to disappoint him. He's pretty sure he could have a decent enough time having sex with Eddie if that's what Eddie wants. He could bite the bullet in the name of keeping everything else - the amazing parts of this little thing between them that make every part of Steve's soul feel warm and comforted and held.
So, yeah. He considers it - lying and putting on a good face while he gives Eddie what everyone always seems to want from Steve Harrington - but then he meets Eddie's eyes and reconsiders.
Eddie's gaze is open and kind and nervous, not expectant. He looks vulnerable and more than a little self-conscious, and in that moment, Steve decides that he's not going to let this thing with Eddie meet the same uncomfortable end as all the others. If Eddie can be vulnerable, if Eddie can be open and honest, then Steve can meet him halfway and do the same.
"What if I don't?" he asks, voice weak and unsure. He sounds so small - like a child, almost - and he hates it.
Eddie frowns. "What if you don't what?"
"You said it was obvious that I liked having sex," Steve replies shakily. He can't quite meet Eddie's eyes, but he sees Eddie's hesitant nod out of the corner of his eye. "Well... what if I don't?"
Steve wonders if the silence that follows feels as deafening and suffocating to Eddie as it does to him.
"I don't understand..." Eddie says. His voice is soft, like he's afraid he might scare Steve away, and Steve realizes suddenly that his own hands are trembling.
"I-" he murmurs haltingly. "It's just... sex is sort of weird for me, sometimes." He pauses, then quietly adds, "Most of the time, actually." He chances a look at Eddie's face and immediately wishes he hadn't, because Eddie's frown is deep and concerned and Steve doesn't know how to fix it.
"Okay," Eddie says slowly, giving Steve's hands a reassuring squeeze. "Do you think you could tell me what you mean by that?"
And, well... Steve does his best to explain. He tells Eddie about the way he'd felt icky back in high school, whenever he hooked up with some random girl from his class. He tells Eddie that he'd wanted to have sex, but for some reason it always seemed to feel like something was off. Sometimes, it felt like something was missing. Other times, it felt like too much.
Steve tells him about the times when he felt wrong-footed and uncomfortable for hours afterwards, even long after the girl had left. He quietly recounts, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, those few occasions that had made him feel so terrible he'd sat on the shower floor and cried until the hot water ran out, unable to wash the feeling away.
He tells Eddie everything - about those precious few times with Nancy when he'd felt normal, about his attempts after their breakup that made him feel weirdbadwrong once again, about his relief every time he scared a new girl off at Scoops with his purposefully dismal flirting.
Steve tells Eddie everything, and Eddie listens.
By the end, there are tear tracks on Steve's face, trailing downwards towards a small damp spot on his pillow, but Eddie takes it all in stride. He simply raises a hand to brush away the tears and presses his lips to Steve's forehead, all while thanking Steve for telling him, and assuring Steve that there's no pressure, with them. There's no timeline, no expectation of sex, and there never will be. Eddie is happy to wait as long as Steve needs, and if the time never comes, then that's alright, too.
The thought alone brings additional tears of relief to Steve's eyes, and he feels a part of his heart unclench when Eddie's arms wrap around him that night as they drift off to sleep, just as they've done most nights for the last month. He feels safe inside the cocoon of Eddie’s arms, in the knowledge that Eddie knows, now, and he’s not going anywhere. Any lingering anxiety dissipates entirely the following morning, when Eddie bitches and moans about being woken up for work, but still kisses Steve just as sweetly before he goes, no less adoring than the day before.
It gives Steve honest-to-God butterflies, and he feels a bit like a lovesick teenager when he watches Eddie pull out of the driveway that morning. He wonders if maybe they’ll just carry on as though nothing has changed at all.
In the end, things do change, but it doesn’t take long for Steve to realize they’ve changed for the better. Their conversation seems to have opened the door for the kind of vulnerability that Steve’s never had with anyone else before, and it’s nice. More than nice, actually. It comes with the sort of honesty and trust he’s longed for his entire life. It comes with sweet kisses that never become too insistent, and soft touches that never wander into unwanted places. For the first time, Steve can relax and let himself be cared for…let himself fall even deeper in love with Eddie Munson than he already is.
Things progress, despite remaining temporarily paused on the physical front. They tell Robin about their relationship, and after she’s done half-crying, half-laughing her way through congratulating them, she gives Eddie an astonishingly frightening shovel-talk. They tell Dustin a few days later, and then the rest of the kids and Nancy. They go on their first official date at the drive-in, where they can cuddle up without needing to worry about the prying eyes of the ignorant assholes who make up most of the population of Hawkins.
A little over a month after The Talk, Steve holds Eddie’s hand while Eddie tells his Uncle Wayne that they’re together, and after Wayne wraps Eddie up in the biggest bear-hug of all time, he does the same to Steve and assures him that as long as he never hurts Wayne’s boy, Steve will always be welcome in the Munson home. Steve doesn’t comment on the tears shining in Eddie’s eyes, but he holds Eddie extra tightly that night. Tells Eddie how proud he is. Wonders how much longer he’ll be able to stop himself from slipping up and confessing exactly how much he loves Eddie.
And one day, after months of chaste kisses and soft, conservative touches…Steve feels ready for more.
They start slow, at Eddie’s insistence and to Steve’s relief. At first, it’s nothing but the two of them laying in Eddie’s bed, jerking themselves off side by side. They’re barely touching, aside from the occasional brush of the arm, but Steve feels like he’s on fire in the best way. Eddie’s choked off gasps go straight to his dick, and they come within seconds of each other, too satisfied to be embarrassed about how quickly the whole thing happens.
The next night, when they get their hands on each other, Steve’s are trembling with nerves frayed from wondering if the icky weirdbadwrong feeling will rear its head. But Eddie’s voice is soft and soothing, and his touch is no less gentle than it always is when he wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock for the first time. Instead of the prickly, icy feeling he usually gets, Steve thinks that this feels perfect. Like slipping into a warm bath after a long day out in the cold. It doesn’t take long for him to forget all about his worry that it might feel wrong when he’s lost in Eddie’s whispered encouragement and soft touches.
He comes that night with Eddie’s name on his lips, and when his fingers tremble as he returns the favor for his boyfriend, it’s out of excitement, not fear.
Steve tells Eddie he loves him a little over a week later, after a Corroded Coffin show at the Hideout.
Eddie says it back.
And the icky feeling continues to stay away, for the most part.
Of course, there’s still a bit of a learning curve when it comes to their sex life. There are days when Steve feels detached - untethered to the world around him, like he’s just going through the motions of life - and he can’t do anything sexual without feeling a bit like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. And they never have sex when they’re angry with each other, because the one time they try, Steve breaks down halfway through, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness that courses through his veins like poison.
It’s a lot of trial and error, and many very honest conversations, but it works. Eddie is never pushy - never seems to get frustrated with Steve’s oddly fickle relationship with sex - and eventually, Steve stops getting frustrated with himself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s not broken. He just is the way he is, and he doesn’t need to change that. Every once in a while, he wishes he knew someone else who felt like this, just to have someone to talk to, but it’s hard to feel lonely when he gets to fall asleep in Eddie’s arms every single night once they move in together in 1988.
Eventually, he sort of forgets about ever feeling broken in the first place, after years spent with a man who loves him unconditionally, exactly how he is.
Until a random day in the middle of June, 2015 when Eddie comes home from teaching guitar at the music center down the road with a pamphlet.
“Steve?” Eddie calls over the sound of the slamming screen door. Steve keeps meaning to replace the spring, so it won’t slam quite so hard every time, but every time he tries, he just gets distracted and forgets altogether.
“In here!” he replies from his place at the kitchen table, surrounded by dozens of middle school history essays.
Eddie comes striding into the kitchen with his guitar case slung over his shoulder and a half-nervous, half-excited grin on his face, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It’s a habit from youth that he never quite shook, and Steve will never admit this out loud, but he finds it disgustingly adorable.
“Can I help you?” Steve asks with a slight smirk when Eddie just stares at him for a long moment.
Eddie blinks, then suddenly looks a bit sheepish as he takes a breath and pulls a folded-up pamphlet out of his jacket pocket. “So, uh…this might sound weird, but one of my students went to the Pride parade downtown with her girlfriend this weekend, and I told her to bring me a souvenir. And I was joking, obviously! Only…she brought me this random pamphlet she got from some vendor while she was there, also as a joke, and I was reading it because I was bored between lessons - Jeremy canceled because he has strep, or something - and it really wasn’t all that interesting, because, like, been there, done that, right? But-”
“Eddie,” Steve says, smirk dissolving into a fond smile. “You’re rambling, babe.”
“Right, yeah. That I am,” Eddie laughs nervously. He fidgets with the pamphlet, then abruptly holds it out for Steve to take.
Steve only hesitates for a moment before taking it and giving it a brief once-over. “Am I supposed to be-”
“Page five,” Eddie interrupts. His voice is soft, and fond, and a little nervous in a way it rarely is around Steve these days. Nearly thirty years of (unofficial) marriage has left little to be nervous about.
Steve stares at his husband, then flips open the little booklet to a page sporting a black, purple, grey, and white flag, and the word demisexuality. He frowns thoughtfully and pushes his reading glasses further up his nose as he begins to read the rest of the text on the page.
“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Eddie says softly, pulling up a chair so he can sit beside Steve. “But then I remembered that talk we had back when we first started dating…”
His voice trails off, but that’s okay. Steve already knows exactly what conversation Eddie is thinking about, because Steve is recalling it himself.
“There’s a word for it?” Steve’s voice comes out surprisingly fragile. Hopeful.
He can hear the smile in Eddie’s reply. “Yeah, sweetheart. Seems that way.”
“And there are…” Steve swallows down the tidal wave of emotion threatening to crash over him. “There are more people like me? It’s, like…a thing?”
“Sure is, baby,” Eddie says fondly, pressing a lingering kiss to Steve’s temple. “Got your own flag and everything!”
Steve chokes out a laugh just as the first tear falls down his cheek, and fuck, he can’t stop smiling. Because Eddie is right. There’s a word, and a community, and a goddamn flag. And yeah, maybe it’s been years since Steve last worried about the weirdbadwrong feeling he used to get so frequently when he was younger, but something inside of him feels like it’s settled into place. Like the final piece of a puzzle, pulled from beneath the couch years after the rest was completed: dusty and faded, almost forgotten, but a perfect fit nonetheless.
“Demisexual…” he murmurs reverently, tracing over the shape of the flag with his fingers. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks eagerly.
Through happy tears, Steve looks at the man who is his husband in everything but the eyes of the law. Eddie’s eyes are kind and excited - just like they always are - and God, Steve loves him. He’s loved him for decades, and he’s never going to stop.
“Yep,” Steve breathes, wrapping a hand around the back of Eddie’s head to pull him in for a slow kiss. “Love it,” he says. Another kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” Eddie whispers in return.
The next year, Eddie’s students don’t need to bring him souvenirs from Pride, because he and Steve go together. They hold hands as they cheer on the parade, newly-acquired wedding rings (now that it’s been legalized in all fifty states) glinting in the sunlight, and Steve wonders if he’s ever been this happy before. He’s got his husband on one side, Robin and her wife on the other, and a flag of black, purple, grey, and white painted on one cheek.
The feeling is electric.
It’s perfect.
And Steve has never, ever been more certain that there’s nothing icky or wrong about it.
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valyrie630 · 10 months
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WE. NEED. MORE. SAPPHIC. FANFIC. ON. AO3.
please, I’m going mad.
I need my lesbians
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lyzsaphrodite · 4 months
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༊*·˚ Home is Where the Heart is ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader
synopsis: You and Dior are long distanced and she decides to surprise you by coming to visit you for your birthday.
warnings: fluff, fluff, and fluff
a/n: this is not my best writing ever i just wanted to get this out while i work on the Summer fic
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You and Dior have been in a long-distance relationship for about a year and a half now. You met on the set of Percy Jackson and instantly clicked; she ended up asking you out two months into filming. After season one wrapped, she went back home to LA, and you returned to your hometown. You haven't seen each other in person since filming wrapped six months ago, because you're still in school. You guys text multiple times a day and FaceTime at least once a day, but it's still hard for both of you. Especially for you since your love language is physical touch, and you just like to have physical connections with people. Your birthday was coming up, so Dior thought it would be an amazing idea if she came and surprised you. She planned it all out with your family; she would fly in on your actual birthday and stay for a month.
Today was finally your birthday. You woke up to look at your phone and found a bunch of birthday wishes from friends, family, and even fans. But none from the person that mattered most to you. You didn't think she would ever forget your birthday. Maybe she just wasn't awake yet, even though it was currently noon, which means it was 9 in LA, and she's always up before 9. But you just decided not to worry about it. You still had the whole day. You were really bummed that she wouldn't be able to come for your birthday, but you understand that she's busy with her music and everything. You got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready for the day. You and your best friend decided to go shopping for your birthday. You visited all your favorite stores, getting all of your birthday freebies. By the time you and your best friend headed home, it was around 4 o’clock, and you've yet to get a message from Dior, which made you visibly disappointed. Your best friend kept seeing you checking your messages every few minutes and finally decided to say something.
“I’m sure she didn't forget; you know her, she's always busy with something.”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure everyone but her has wished me a happy birthday though. Like even at the mall, those fans who came up to us to say happy birthday, I didn't even know them. And I thought she would be one of the first to say it.”
You finally arrived home and went straight upstairs to put your bags down and take off your shoes. You were home for around 30 minutes when you finally heard the doorbell ring.
“Y/N, someone's here for you,” your mom yelled. You had no clue who it could be; you weren't expecting anyone.
“Coming!” you yelled back to your mom. You hurried down the stairs to the front door, and standing there was Dior with her bags and a gift. She looks just as beautiful as she always does.
“Hey, baby,” she said, smiling.
You had absolutely no idea how to react; you were definitely not expecting this at all. You ran to her and jumped to hug her. As she held and hugged you, you started to tear up.
“I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren't able to come.”
“I wanted to surprise you, sweet girl.”
“How long are you staying?”
“For a month.”
“Oh my gosh, no way!”
“Way!”
“OMG, and Mom, you knew about this?”
Your mom just smiled and nodded.
“Yep, and so did your best friend.”
“OMG!! I cannot believe this; I thought you forgot my birthday!”
“I could never forget your birthday, mamas.”
You and Dior share a passionate kiss, the weight of her surprise visit lifting a heavy burden off your shoulders. In that moment, all the worries and doubts melted away, replaced by the warmth of her presence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The month that followed was a whirlwind of joy and reconnection. Every day felt like a treasure, filled with laughter, adventures, and stolen moments of affection. Whether it was exploring your hometown together, cooking meals side by side, or simply cuddling on the couch watching movies, every second was cherished. On the day of her departure, you stood at the airport, hand in hand, hearts heavy with the weight of impending separation.
"I wish we lived closer," you managed to say, your voice breaking slightly as you fought back tears, the airport's din muffling your words.
Dior's eyes softened, mirroring the sorrow in your own as she squeezed your hand gently. "I know, darling. It's hard saying goodbye every time," she murmured, her voice tinged with empathy.
You leaned into her embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of her presence amidst the impersonal hustle of the airport. "I hate it when you leave," you stated simply, your voice carrying a mix of longing and frustration, the airport's commotion providing a stark backdrop to your heartfelt confession.
Dior's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of separation. "I feel it too, love. It never gets any easier," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in her shoulder, the weight of longing settling heavily in your chest. "I just wish we could be together more often," you confessed, your voice barely audible above the noise of the crowd.
Dior's fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, her touch a silent reassurance. "Me too, sweetheart. But no matter the distance, you'll always have my heart," she vowed, her words a promise of enduring love.
And as you stood together in the midst of the bustling airport terminal, surrounded by the chaos of departure, you found solace in the simple act of being together, knowing that no matter where life may take you, your love would always be a constant, guiding light in the darkness.
this is unusually short because I didn't know how to end it
taglist: @asvterias
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storytimewriting · 2 months
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to love through femininity is a softer kind of love
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jasmynmorning · 12 days
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“The Shadowbearer’s Curse” is my debut dark fantasy romance novel releasing September 23, 2024 🩷💜💙
Here is amazing fan art from one of my favorite artists @sunskaiis 🧑🏻‍🎨
A mysterious young Lytherian man that my protagonist comes across in the enchanting Song Crye forest 🌳
Content release schedule coming soon!
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ariellam-blog · 14 days
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What Querying is Teaching my Son About Rejection
And then there were {checks QueryTracker} seven. Seven queried agents left to hear back from. Seven potential full requests. Eight potential rejections.  While I attempt to make authoring happen, my seven–year-old is learning how to be a person. We’ll call him Squish, a nickname that never caught on in real life but worked well when he was an infant for internet purposes. The other day Squish…
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yvesdot · 8 months
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SOMETHING'S NOT RIGHT IS OUT!
“A quietly fantastical wonderland of creatures, queerness, and possibility.” — Max Franciscovich @goose-books, author of Night Shift 
The debut collection returns in a special fifth anniversary edition, repackaged with three new short stories, a new cover, and additional bonus content! A vampire is forced into a compromising situation; a father fears his child's growing plant collection; the undead go to high school; a butcher contemplates whether or not she can be loved. In a captivating debut, yves. opens the door to our world, slightly askew—where the crows work for witches and telephone booths serve as secret channels for prophecy; where a diverse cast of monsters and humans alike are forced to contend with what the world believes is right.
Thank you to everyone who made my weird uncategorizable "Lemony Snicket meets Carmen Maria Machado" speculative fiction an instant bestseller! If you’ve ever felt like a monster, this book is for you.
PRESS: KZSC interview | Santa Cruz Sentinel interview
EXCERPTED SHORT STORIES
BUY NOW!
signed paperback | paperback & ebook (amazon) | ebook (itch.io)
& at all major retailers!
Thank you so much for reading this post about my book. I hope you will share it, and this image of my beautiful black cat, Andy, widely. To queer weird fiction and indie pub! To you, Dear Reader, with love.
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thebibliosphere · 10 months
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Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites
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In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more...
Captain Nathan J. Northland had no idea what to expect when he returned home to Lorehaven injured from war, but it certainly wasn’t to find himself posted on an island full of vampires. An island whose local vampire dandy lord causes Nathan to feel strange things he’d never felt before. Particularly about fangs.
When Vlad Blutstein agreed to hire Nathan as Captain of the Eyrie Guard, he hadn’t been sure what to expect either, but it certainly hadn’t been to fall in love with a disabled werewolf. However Vlad has fallen and fallen hard, and that’s the problem.
Torn by their allegiances–to family, to duty, and the age-old enmity between vampires and werewolves–the pair find themselves in a difficult situation: to love where the heart wants or to follow where expectation demands.
The situation is complicated further when a mysterious and beguiling figure known only as Lady Ursula crashes into their lives, bringing with her dark omens of death, doom, and destruction in her wake.
And a desperate plea for help neither of them can ignore.
Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites by Joy Demorra is a queer, paranormal, gaslamp fantasy romance novel featuring enchanted forests, gothic castles, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust, and is the first book of the Hunger Pangs slow-burn polyamorous romance series. Join Vlad, Nathan, and Ursula as they navigate a magical world torn asunder war and politics as they work to restore balance to the world and find love along the way. Book one is available now in ebook, paperback, and audio.
Buy the (high heat) Flirting With Fangs Edition Here. 
Buy the (medium heat) Fluff and Fangs Edition Here.
Why are there two versions, and what's the difference between them? Glad you asked! You can also check out individual content tags and heat ratings on my website at www.joydemorra.com
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zincfingermotif · 1 year
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enterwittyjokehere · 3 months
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[Angsty Gale won the poll, have fun with his mage hand guys. ;)]
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Dread Alter of The Heart
[Gale (of waterdeep) Dekarios x afab reader smut]
[⚠️Warnings⚠️]
[Agrument]
[Mentions of death and being blown up]
[Angry at old man]
[Early act two spoilers!!!]
[Heavy smut 18+ only]
[Teasing]
[Incorrect use of mage hand]
“I am so very sorry, Gale..” The old man's words filled you with a burning rage, a pit that sat in the top of your chest, right next to your heart, and made fiery tears fill your eyes. The dangerous emotion was clear to both of the wizards surrounding you, Gale was more concerned by the sudden uncharacteristic change in your demeanor. 
Gale’s warm hand moved to sit on your shoulder, in an attempt to provide a bit of emotional support and to try and quell your worsening rage. The large hand rubbed at the bone of your shoulder, you only shrugged it off as you took a step closer to Elminster.
Fists balled and face getting redder by the second, you pointed a finger past the old man, “Get out of my camp.” 
You said it as calmly as you could, the anger inside of your chest making you less than rational. A hand firmly grabbed at your wrist, “(y/n), please, Elminster is a dear friend.”
Turning to face Gale, you furrowed your eyebrows, “No, Gale, friends don't randomly show up, eat all your food and then tell you to kill yourself, not good friends at least.”
“As previously stated I am so very sorry, Gale, truly.” You shot the old wizard a glare.
After being reprimanded by Gale once again, you retreated, stomping off to your tent. Letting the flap of fabric, used as the door, fall down, you sat upright on your bedroll, head hung low.
The feelings you held for your party's wizard were so blatant and obvious, the whole team was aware. Hearing what has to come next made you fearful, to say the least. Holding your hands up to your face, your bundle of stressful emotions left through your eyes.
The looming spectre, known as the fear of rejection, had kept you from ever allowing Gale to know your true feelings. Even now as he was going to put the half assed forgiveness from a goddess, who has done nothing but abuse and misuse both him, his trust and his magickal abilities over the life he lives currently and more importantly to you, the one he could live, after this was all over, with you.
Not knowing if he would even accept your love now that his goddess was back in the equation. All the hard work you had put into your delusions of a content life with a sweet wizard husband poured down the drain. Almost left you feeling like you belonged in the sewers of Baldr’s gate.
Reveling in your reminiscent remorse took you out of your surroundings and your tears became sobs. The emotional waves that washed over you felt uncontrollable, almost inconsolable, as though no one could help, the dreaded feeling of losing Gale, all to win the favor of some goddess, left you in hysterics.
Sobbing into your hands, you sniffled and swore under your breath, left startled by a sharp clearing of a throat outside your tent. 
“(Y/n)... Can I speak with you?” Gale muttered, then pausing to wait for your response, your startled demeanor fluctuated, relief poured into you when Gale’s voice was heard and then you remembered that you are almost in no shape to speak to him.
Eyes puffy and nose running, you were aware that your disheveled state was obvious and yet when Gale asked to talk you could never say no. The butterflies started without even having to look at him, knowing right now he was outside your tent waiting to speak with you made you giddy. 
“Sh*t-! Yes, Gale. Just… um- give me a second.” You said, hurriedly, wiping your red tearstained face on the sleeve of your cotton camp clothes. 
Opening the flap of the tent, you stepped out into Gale's view. He frowned for a second, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Have you been crying?” 
You glanced up at him, biting onto your bottom lip in an attempt to quell the next round of tears. Nodding your head slightly, before your attempt to stop your overflowing emotions failed, Gale wrapped an arm around you pulling you into an embrace.
“I should be the one crying, I'll be the one that has to… you know.” He said, laughing slightly, before making a worried face.
You didn't have to see his face to know what he did, he was so predictable in everything, or maybe you just knew him well enough. Sniffling slightly you shook your head, “No. I won't let you. We'll find another way.” 
“I am afraid that's not your place, my friend.” Gale said, pulling away from you.
Your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping tightly onto the sleeve of his shirt, your face wet from tears. You shuttered when his big brown eyes found your own, “...Gale, I'm in love with you.”
The words had slipped out before you could stop them, the tone of your voice was as though that was a reason for him to let you stop him. 
Gale's lips curled into a small smile, yet his eyes were still sad, “I know.” 
His words were gentle and sweet, he wrapped his arms around you again, before speaking once more, “and maybe had I not been cursed with this ‘divine purpose’ we could've had each other.”
More tears pushed over the threshold, your hands attempted to retract from Gale's shoulders. He watched as your lip began to quiver and you backed away, “Or you could've chosen me… instead of a goddess who has done nothing for you.” 
You tried to turn around, away from Gale, but he grabbed your wrist, “Please, you should know I cannot disobey Mystra, she is magick and magick is-”
“Your life?” You finished, knowing where his words would end, “That's what I wanted too.” 
Ripping your hand away from the wizard, you wiped your tears. Turning around, only to have Gale's hands latch onto your wrist holding you firmly in place. His eyes peered into you, pleading for you to listen. Yet the hurt in your heart hid his heart from your eyes, your clouded mind forbade you from taking the wizard as who he truly was.
“(Y/n), please, don't be like this..” Gale called, “I love you too, you make me happier than anyone else, I would love nothing more than to make you mine and allow all of Faerûn that knowledge and yet-”
“Gale, Please, you said quite enough, already.” The belated words hurt more than they should have, Gale's attempt to rekindle a flame he had just extinguished only killed the dying sparks further. 
Gale placed a hand to his chest, his now sad eyes peering into you, “I love you, too, please.” 
You shook your head, “No, if you loved me I would mean more to you than-” 
“Mystra means very little to me-! But if this is the only way to save Faerûn, to save everyone… including you, I have to do it. It's my responsibility…” Gale said, grabbing at the orb that decorated both the inside and outside of his chest, “Please… I love you.” 
“You've said that… Gale-” 
Your words were swiftly cut short as Gale's warm hands found your face, cupping the soft tearstained flesh. He pushed his forehead to your own, “Please, allow me a chance is all I ask…”
You stayed silent, Gale tilted your head slightly and pressed a hot kiss to your forehead. 
His eyes found your own again, “Tonight there is no orb, no absolute just you and me… We can worry about Elminster and Mystra's demand when the need for such an action arises.” 
Your eyes filled with tears once more, you blinked as they rolled down your cheeks. Only to be wiped away by Gale's thumb, “No need for tears, my darling, please.”
You looked up into Gale's eyes, he took the moment to smile down at you before pressing his lips to your own, kissing you properly. Your hand slipped behind his shoulder, holding onto the fabric of his shirt, holding the fabric tightly you pulled Gale off of you.
“If I allow you this-”
“If we find another way to defeat this thing… consider it done, orb and Gale, both still intact.” Gale said, his eyes staring into you.
“And Mystra?”
“What of her?” Gale questioned where you were going with your words.
“I’m sure she won’t be pleased with me taking her sweet little lapdog.”
“Then, she should have considered that before tossing me aside.” Gale spoke, placing a short lived kiss to your lips, “Its as you said, why kill myself to please a Goddess, who has done less for me than the sweet adventurer i’ve grown to know and love.”
“Stop with the flattery and kiss me already, wizard.” You teased, Gale smiled, placing his hands on your hips and doing exactly as you told him. Leaning over to meet you in another kiss, your hands found his shoulders as Gale pulled your body closer. 
The closeness of the two of you made you needy as you would move and tease both of you, small whines trickling from your throat. Gale moved a hand to rest on the inside of your thigh pulling your leg over his hip, you would move occasionally brushing against his growing er*ct*on. The thoughts that ran through his head were less than savory, your free hand tangling in his long hair. While his lips devoured your own, his tongue ravaged the inside of your mouth, searching the cavern thoroughly. 
Gale pulled away from the kiss, panting like a dog, “Gods, we should at least get inside before continuing, if you wish to continue..” His words lingered; they carried insecurity but also curiosity as though he was searching for your consent, eager to know your wishes.
 Perhaps he wondered if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, a small smile found your face, “Oh, please Gale, you’re not getting out of this that easily.”
You backed into the tent, moving against him as soon as he entered, kissing him roughly, once more. Gale’s hands fluttered to your hips, holding you flush to his body, smiling into the embrace.
Inside the tent, Gale placed you down on a large wooden chest. His heavy breathing and lidded eyes made your stomach curl in excitement. 
“Lay down, my precious.” He said, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, “By the gods, you're perfect.”
His words were expelled in a groan as you followed his instructions, laying back in the cold wood of the chest. Gale's steady hands began disrobing you, he unbuttoned and pulled off your trousers. 
Before he started on your undergarments he licked the pad of his thumb, pushing it to your clothed core. You squirmed at the action, pulling a small chuckle from the wizard's lips, “Patience, I will not keep you waiting long.” 
He pulled away from you, and began slipping out of his robe, then he hastily unbuttoned his own trousers. Discarding both of the garments onto the floor of your tent, he smiled down at you palming the growing tent in his purple underwear.
You pushed onto your elbows watching him, licking your lips as your eyes traced over his crotch. Gale moved closer to you, his hands enveloping your clothed chest, playing with the soft flesh, “Your turn.” 
His simper was ravenous, like he could devour you whole. He moved closer, kneeling onto the chest, his body hanging over your own. 
The closer Gale got to you the worse your craving for him panged in your aching core. It didn't help that when he pressed a long cascading kiss to your lips, his knee pressed into your lower body, rubbing your warm core. Gale would pull away and come right back into the kiss, igniting a passionate fire beneath him.
Each time the wizard would pull away from your embrace, muttering your praises, only to reignite the kiss. His hand pumping around his hard c**k, groaning into the kiss, “G-Gale, please…”
His lidded eyes opened, staring down at you, nodding slightly before he pulled away. Gale quickly slipped off the briefs, kneeling down at the edge of the chest, he took a finger slipping off your underwear. The wizard's free hand cast mage hand, a spell resulting in a small ghostly hand to appear, with a flick of his free hand the mage hand slipped over your chest. Playing with your nipples, the blue hand teased your hardening bud.
Gale smiled at the sounds the spell elicited, moving his free hand to hold down one of your legs, while spreading your lower lips open. Your attempt at keeping your eyes on Gale failed as he moved into your core, suckling sweetly on the aching bud in your lower body. 
The more ragged and feral your moans for him became the quicker his hand at the base of his own pleasure moved. He mumbled and moaned into your core as you rocked your hips against his face, in an attempt to secure more pleasure for yourself.
“You're more than I could ever need, don't you ever forget that.” Gale moaned out, his tongue assaulting your sensitive c*nt.
“Yeah and that's why you're going to find another way, right?”
“Whatever you ask of me.” He said, before standing up to fully penetrate your lower body.
Your hands found his forearms, while Gale's hands settled on the dips of your hips, you moaned out before biting your lip to quell your noises.
“Let's make this quick, yeah?” Gale said as he rocked in and out of you, “I don't think I can last much longer.”
The friction between the two of you was ecstatic, the building knot in your lower stomach pleaded to be broken. The blue hand Gale had summoned, moved down to where your bodies met, rubbing the abused bundle of nerves Gale had previously been sucking on.
With a jolt of your hips your climax hit, Gale almost immediately succumb to the warmth squeezing feeling of you tensing around him. Sloppily thrusting in, he chased the high while you squirmed beneath him, overstimulation threatened to ruin your moment.
“I hope we didn't wake the others.” You spoke your voice shaky.
Gale looked up at you, kissing you gently, “To the hells with them.”
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fuctacles · 11 months
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Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/
I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]
Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.
“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.
He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.
“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”
Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.
“Yeah?”
The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.
“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.
Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.
“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.
Eddie gawked at him.
“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”
“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”
“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.
“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.
Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.
“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”
Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.
“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”
He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.
“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”
Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.
“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”
Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.
The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.
“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.
A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.
“How long he has been living here?”
Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.
“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”
“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.
“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”
Eddie hummed, cocking his head.
“Your mom is very smart.”
Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.
“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”
Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.
“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”
“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.
This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.
“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”
Eddie raised his hands again.
“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.
Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.
Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.
*
“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 
“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.
“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”
“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.
“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”
The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.
“I am just saying-”
“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.
“No, I’m just-”
“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.
‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”
“Lure in.”
“Lull into a fake sense of security.”
“Cast charm person.”
“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”
“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.
*
Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.
“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.
Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.
“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”
There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.
“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”
“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 
The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.
“You guys finishing up?”
“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”
Steve frowned.
“That’s what I said.”
“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.
To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.
*
“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.
“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.
“I did not”
“You totally did.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.
“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”
He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.
“Spare us the imagery, please.”
Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.
“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”
And he was gone.
Gareth sighed.
“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 
“Yeah.”
*
Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.
Some very, very humiliating calls.
Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.
He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-
“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”
Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?
“Hello?”
“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”
“... Eddie? Is that you?”
Busted.
“What gave me away?”
“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 
“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.
“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”
Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.
“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”
“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.
“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”
Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.
After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.
“What's up?”  
The man braced himself for what he was about to request.
“I need your help with an assignment.”
*
The door opened before he could even knock. Again.
“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”
“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.
“The likes of- Excuse me?!”
Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.
“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.
“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 
“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.
“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.
“Normies.”
“Pop listeners.”
“Mom friends.”
“Conformists.”
“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.
Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.
“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.
“He is!”
Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.
“I believe we have some physics to cover?”
Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.
[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]
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storytimewriting · 2 months
Text
More Than Fucking
“Fucking” is too vulgar for what we do, But I don’t want to call it making love When I haven’t yet said that to you.
I could pretend it doesn’t affect me But I’m not sure it would be believable When you touch me so intensely.
You treat my body as a temple. You make me want to worship you- The way you have me shake and tremble.
I’ve never considered myself religious, But when I’m on my knees before you My emotions are prodigious.
While it’s too soon to call this what it feels, Just know I’ll never call it fucking- What we do is far too real.
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