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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months

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𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍

succubus steve x eddie munson x girlfriend reader

summary: after finding a weird book of summoning spells from the library, your boyfriend eddie proposes an idea where you’d put the spells to good use, but what happens when you both actually summon a succubus demon who’s been starved of his lustful desires for centuries.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, monster fucking, big dick steve, mmf threesome, oral sex ( f & m receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex, dom!steve, sub!eddie, sub!reader, spit as lube, being spanked and choked by a tail, squirting, breeding kink, cream pie.

authors note: another one shot for y’all, hope you like! As always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for beta reading, and always listening to my crazy ideas <3

wc: 3.1k

“This is such a bad idea.” You grumble as Eddie’s eyes squint, trying to make out the scription that was hastily written in the black leatherback book your boyfriend had found when he was in the library, browsing the shelves for a new fantasy book.

Instead, he found a creepy looking one filled with summoning spells and incantations.

“C’mon babe, this shit isn’t real. Who would leave a legit book of spells in a library? A Hawkins library, no less.” He huffs with a devious smirk “the only demon you’ll be summoning tonight is this big dick having one, right here.” He pacifies before chuckling at his own words as he continues drawing out the intricate looking pentagram.

You scoff and roll your eyes as you sit on your shared bed, socked feet dangling off the side as you watch the metalhead; his tongue poking out while he curves the chalk, finishing off the circle.

He quickly looks up at you in disbelief, “what? You tryna say I don’t have a big cock?” He taunts as his lips curl up into a mocking smile. “Oh Eddie, I don’t think it’ll fit! Your cock is so big! You stretch my pussy out so good!” He teases in a high pitched voice that you are certain, sounds absolutely nothing like you.

“I sound nothing like that you ass!” You screech as you pick up and throw the black bunny stuffie your boyfriend had recently won for you at the Hawkins annual All Hallow’s Fall Festival.

“Baby! You’re gonna fuck up my masterpiece. C’mon!” Eddie cries as he throws it back where it previously sat, between your two pillows.

“Well I don't sound like that…I sound way hotter.” You protest before playfully sticking your tongue out at him, making the boy quickly jump to his black boot clad feet and lunging at you. You both fall back onto the plush mattress as Eddie's body weighs you down.

“Stick your tongue out at me again and I'm gonna bite it.” He playfully growls in your ear before softly biting at your lobe.

“Ed’s I can't breathe, get off!” You can no longer hold back your giggles when he begins nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Okay, undress and put that silk robe on. I'm gonna go stand in the closet and when I come back out, I’m no longer Eddie, okay?” He reminds you as his nose sweetly rubs against yours. “You remember what you're supposed to say?” Your boyfriend questions before standing up and making his way to the closet, dramatically whipping open the bi-fold doors before clambering his lanky body inside.

“Yes, of course I do.” You mutter before standing up and making quick work of removing your cropped t-shirt, little sleep shorts, lace panties and socks.

Eddie winks at you then quickly closes the doors. You slip your silk robe on, loosely tying it around your body before crouching down to get on your knees in front of the pentagram and black burning candles. You wait a few minutes before you begin to recite the words on the paper:

Lilith, please receive this offering. I give this truthfully and willingly

May the light of these candles burn brightly and guide your son to me

The light from the candles flicker as a heavy draft from your cracked window seeps in, sending a deep chill down your spine.

The closet doors burst open and Eddie steps out, wearing a shit eating grin and red devil horns he had picked up from the local costume shop. He was shirtless, his tattoos on full display, black jeans laying low on his hips showing off his deep v lines you always went crazy for, the chain wallet he often wore caught your attention as it swayed while he sauntered over, boots stopping right in front of the pentagram you were kneeled behind.

“Hello, little one.” Eddie growled, but something off in the corner of the room caught your attention, a black figure that swiftly moved out of the shadows, white teeth gleaming as he sent you a sinister smile.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, making Eddie’s face break character as he curiously follows your eyes to the shaggy haired demon who had now fully revealed himself to you both.

Eddie’s whole body turns in shock as his black boots side step the perfectly laid out incantation.

“Holy fuck!” Your boyfriend shouts as the back of his knees hit the bed, he quickly loses his balance, body bouncing off the mattress as his eyes almost pop out of his head from his state of panic. “Who the fuck are you? W-what do you want?” He stammers, his voice cracking as it came out too high pitched for his liking.

You sit there with wide eyes, your body feeling as if it's being weighed down by a ton of bricks and unable to move as the demon studies you, from head to toe before hungirly licking his blood red lips.

“Well you summoned me, silly child.” The demon says before he begins to study your boyfriend.

“N-no, w-we didn't mean to.” You finally spoke before standing up and moving closer to Eddie, but as you do your robe slips open exposing your bare breast and cunt to the demon.

The succubus looks around with a snarl on his face.

“Oh but it looks as though you did, little mortal.” He chuckles as his eyes find the leatherback book splayed out on the floor. “What is the meaning of this if you did not summon me?” He asks as his clawed hand motions to the summoning circle.

“We were roleplaying.” Eddie admits as his cheeks tinge pink from his confession.

“Roleplaying?” The demon questions before he stops right in front of you, his glowing eyes take in you and your boyfriends terrified faces.

“Y-yeah, we uh well I was gonna play the demon and she was supposed to summon me, then we’d ya’ know?” Eddie stutters before making a crude gesture to the demon.

“Hmm, I see.” The succubus says as his clawed hands rub against the soft skin of his chin.

The closeness gave you and Eddie the opportunity to take in the horned monster's face, his rather human looking face. He had dark curled horns surrounded by perfectly coiffed brown hair, honey brown eyes that appeared to change to a glowing yellow when he was excited. His face and body were covered in beauty marks, he was dressed in clothes that looked like they were from centuries ago but his arms were big and muscular and his hands were veiny with long pointed claws. You and Eddie couldn’t help but to think he was fucking beautiful, enthralling.

“W-what’s your name?” You ask as your robe slips back open, revealing your hardened nipples to both males.

“You may call me Steve, my sweet one.” The succubus purrs before his hand reaches out towards your bare breasts, his clawed thumb gently rubbing against your peaked bud, making you shiver but you make no attempts to move away.

“Hey man.” Your boyfriend demurs, but the words come out weaker than intended.

“Shh, little lamb.” Steve murmurs, bringing the same hand he’d just caressed you with, up to Eddie’s lips “You’ll get your turn.” He winks at the boy, whose eyes are now cartoonishly bulging from his head.

Steve steps closer to you both, his very prominent erection now making itself known, as his hands move to yours and Eddie’s faces. He rubs his thumbs over both sets of your lips as he moves in closer towards the metalhead sitting beside you.

“Would you like that, pretty boy?” The demon solicits, his lips mere inches from your boyfriends, so close that Eddie could feel Steve’s shallow breaths.

Eddie had never found men much attractive but he couldn’t deny the allure he felt for the demon standing before him.

“I-I would.” He admits with a slight nod of his head before the succubus pulls him into a passionate kiss, tongues swirling against each other as you look on in desperate arousal.

“Mmm.” The demon hums after he pulls back. “I need to fuck you both.” He declares before bringing his swollen lips to yours, he licks into your mouth making you moan into the kiss, he removes your robe and slips it off your body. His hands rub over your tits, down your sides and land on your hips, holding you tightly as his lips continue to move against yours.

“Sit on his face, sweet one.” Steve demands, easily lifting your hips and moving you further back on the bed.

“Lay back for me, little lamb.” The demon tells Eddie before he falls to his knees and makes rapid movements to remove the metalheads belt, button and zipper. Eddie lifts his hips up, helping the succubus as he roughly rips his jeans down the rest of the way.

You straddle Eddie’s face, your glistening pussy captures Steve’s attention as he now hungrily eyes you and your boyfriend's sexes.

“I haven’t played with such a pretty cunt and cock in what seems like eons.” The demon groans before taking Eddie’s tip into his mouth and sucking.

Eddie moans as his tongue swirls over your swollen clit, he takes your bundle of nerves into his mouth and lightly sucks. Your head falls back in pleasure before he’s gliding his tongue down and licking into your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar. His favorite flavor.

The succubus working between your boyfriend's thighs takes his cock further into his mouth before wrapping his abnormally long tongue around the metalhead's girthy length. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he continues to lick and suck you. The rings on his fingers are digging into you just as his black polished nails are, creating a sting that amplifies your pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck, your tongue feels so good Eddie!” You whimper as you feel your orgasm creeping up on the horizon.

When you bring your head back down, your eyes immediately meet the glowing pair you've vaguely grown familiar with. His long snake-like tongue moves up from Eddie’s asshole to his balls, then up to lick the beads of precum that had built up in his absence while his long, wet, pink muscle made its travels further south.

“Are you going to cum, little one?” Steve questions before his tongue dashes out to lick at his obscenely wet lips.

“Mmhm!” You whine as your mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ as heavy moans begin to fill the room.

The demon crawls up your boyfriends body, straddling his waist, rubbing their cocks together as he begins licking at your clit while Eddie fucks you with his tongue.

“Cum for us.” Steve demands, his thumb now taking over, making swift gentle circles.

“Oh! Oh!” You mewl as your legs shake, knees digging into the mattress as you ride your boyfriend's tongue, while the succubus continues to rub circles on your sodden clit.

“That’s it, pretty thing. Yes, that’s it!” Steve growls, hips still bucking creating the perfect friction as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together, both of them leaking with need.

Once you’ve come down from the euphoria, Steve manhandles you off of the long haired boy and onto your back before he grabs Eddie’s glistening chin and begins licking your slick off of his lips, he quickly dips his tongue into the other boys mouth moaning as he sucks your taste off of the metalheads wet muscle.

When they finally come up for air, the demon turns his attention back on you, making his way between your twitching legs.

“Here is what is going to happen, little doves…” Steve huffs as his eyes roam over your body that lay still beneath him. “I am going to fuck her little cunt as you fuck me.” He growled, his glowing eyes now on Eddie.

“Uh, okay.” Your boyfriend mutters as if he still hasn’t fully comprehended what’s happening, but his cock is so painfully hard and throbbing he’ll do whatever you or Steve asks of him.

“You..” he says as he points a long nailed finger in your flushed face, “on all fours. Now.”

You do your best to move quickly while the demon is still kneeling between your spread thighs. Once you’ve successfully shifted your body onto your knees, head face down into your sheets as you arch your ass nice and high for him. When you begin to wiggle in anticipation a quick whip is descended onto your backside, making you wail out in pain and pleasure.

That definitely was not his hand!

You look over to Eddie whose eyes are wide as his hand comes to a full stop around his cock.

“Holy shit, was that a tail?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

you look back at Steve who is now rubbing his tip along your entrance, gathering your wetness onto the heated skin. You decide to confirm you and your boyfriend’s suspicions when you wiggle your hips impatiently again, and just as Eddie had said a black spiked tail came out from behind the demon giving you another good lashing that made your eyes water and your teeth bite down so hard on your bottom lip you could practically taste the blood.

In one swift motion the demon plunges his big, girthy cock inside of you, steadily dragging it against your walls before his thrusts slowly begin to speed up into an unforgiving pace.

Steve looks down at where Eddie is still sprawled, the look on his face is that of utter shock.

“Get back there and fuck me. Now.” The succubus growled as his eyes glowed, before desperately hissing from the tightness of your pussy around him.

Steve hadn’t been fucked by another man in centuries, and holyfuckingshit if he wasn’t the most backed up he’d ever been, but I guess that’s what happens when you haven’t been summoned in a millennia. He needed that ultimate power of fucking and being fucked.

“Well, I’ve never fucked a guy before… do I need something to make it wet before I-I…” your sweet, sweet boyfriend bashfully asks Steve.

“Just spit will do.” The demon groans, as his once erratic hips fall to a leisurely pace.

The metalhead spits on his fingers before he’s bringing the big glob between Steve’s cheeks and timidly rubbing it against his puckered hole.

“Mmm, that’s it.” The succubus hisses before Eddie begins to slowly sink his middle finger into the tight hole, it almost sucks him in immediately and he bottoms out to the knuckle within seconds, god he’s so tight and warm, Eddie couldn’t wait to be engulfed in his little asshole. Those are words he never thought he’d utter to himself. But here we are.

Once he’s gotten three fingers in, and has pumped them in and out enough times to successfully find the demon's prostate.

Eddie removes them before spitting on his tip for extra lubrication, then lines his hard, aching cock up with Steve’s hole and slowly but surely pushes in.

The feeling that comes over both males is very obvious as throaty grunts and groans fill the room. Finally Steve starts to pick up his pace as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. You can feel your boyfriend fucking the demons cock into you even harder, which causes more wetness drip from your stretched hole and down to the succubus’ balls that harshly slap against your clit.

“Oh! Yes, fuck that’s so good!” You whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The grunts coming from your boyfriend who’s hands now roughly grab at your waist, using you to fuck himself deeper into the hole he’s pounding, and Steves hisses and whimpers, make you feel as though you’re floating on the precipice of blinding white pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mmhm.” You continue to moan as you’re being fucked absolutely dumb.

“You hear that?” Eddie whispers into the demon's ear, “you’re making my girl feel so good, am I making you feel good, too?” Your boyfriend questions before licking at the succubus’ neck, then taking a chunk of skin between his teeth and biting before it turns into a harsh suck.

“Yes, yes you are making me feel so good!” Steve howled, the pleasure of both you and your boyfriend had the demon’s thoughts disintegrating into nothing but filling and being filled.

When you begin to fuck yourself on Steve’s cock, pushing back to engulf even more of him into your soaked walls, his tail swings out from behind him, swiftly wrapping around your neck and pulling your body up towards his.

“Am I fucking you good, little one?” Steve murmurs into your ear, creating a pleasant chill down your spine.

“Yes, it feels so fucking good!” You admit once his tail loosens from around your throat.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He whispers again, both males' hands caress your body as your high begins to peak.

You can hear Eddie mutter over Steve’s neck “cum for us baby.” The acknowledgement from the love of your life sets off your orgasm as you begin to shake and writh making the demon's tail tighten around your neck creating the most perfect spacey feeling that has your high lasting far longer than usual. A splash of liquid hits Steve’s thighs as your moans grow louder.

“Fuck!” Steve growls, his tail completely leaving your neck and swooping back to where it came from, causing you to fall face first into the mattress, tears and drool wetting the sheets beneath you as he drills harder into you, the need for his release makes him move at an inhuman pace.

Eddie stills allowing the demon the fuck himself on the metalheads cock as there is no way he can keep up with the thrusts he’s fucking you with.

“I’m going to breed this little fucking cunt, while your boyfriend breeds my asshole.” Steve hisses into your neck, before his groans get louder and his warm spunk shoots deep within your walls.

Steve clenches so tightly around Eddie’s cock, milking the cum right out of him as it shoots into his used up hole. Your boyfriend whimpers and whines at the feeling of being completely squeezed of every last drop.

Eddie falls beside you, both of you panting to catch your breaths, bodies mere seconds from being taken under by drowsiness.

Your boyfriend moves the hair out of your face before playfully pinching at your cheeks, the demon looks on at the tender display of affection between two lovers, it makes his chest tighten with an unfamiliar feeling.

“Oh, but we are not done, we have all night and my hunger has yet to be satiated.”

𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 & 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜!

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willowbelle · 1 month

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The Quiet Kind

per this request!

❤︎ trafalgar law x reader ❤︎ (no pronouns mentioned)

𖤐₊˚.༄ (fluff) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw/summary: reader is mute & very shy! law helps reader with task, cheek kisses, fluff, fluff, fluff.

word count: ~700

tagging: @bby-deerling @risenwrites @strawheart-pirate @uchihabbynic @nina-ya @mandiemegatron@shamblespirate@eelnoise@maddddstuff @lowkeycasanova @stuckinthewrongworld @laylaloves-ed @leftladyluminary

The Quiet Kind

Amidst the steady hum of the Polar Tang, your sanctuary lies—a haven of tranquil silence amidst the bustling chaos of pirate life. As a member of the Heart Pirates, you navigate the world with a quiet grace, your shy demeanor concealing a heart brimming with untold emotions.

Trafalgar Law, your captain, finds himself inexplicably drawn to your silent presence. His stoic facade belies a heart that quickens at the sight of your timid smile, each brush of your gentle hands.

He admires the way you carry yourself, despite your lack of words.

----

One day, as you find yourself in need of assistance with a task aboard the Polar Tang, you cast a shy glance towards Law, silently pleading for his help. With keen perception, Law understands your unspoken request, offering his assistance with a reassuring nod.

Amidst the subdued lighting of the sub's repair bay, you and Law stand side by side, focused on the task at hand. The metallic clang of tools against machinery reverberates through the chamber as you work together to repair a crucial component of the submarine's propulsion system.

Law's instructions are steady and sure, his hands deftly maneuvering the tools as he explains each step of the process with a calm patience.

He guides you with a patience born of his affection for you; quietly, carefully. Despite your lack of verbal communication, his words are clear and concise, aiding you through the intricate workings of the machinery with ease.

“That’s it,” he says softly as he watches you work. The dim lighting within the submarine casts a soft glow over the metallic corridors, creating an atmosphere of subdued tranquility as the Polar Tang glides gracefully through the underwater realm.

You follow his lead, your movements careful and precise as you assist in disassembling and repairing the damaged parts.

As you focus on the task at hand, Law's thoughts wander, his heart yearning to express the depth of his feelings. Outside the portholes, shafts of sunlight filter down from the surface, illuminating the underwater world with an otherworldly glow. Schools of fish dart past, their iridescent scales catching the light in a dazzling display of color.

"You're doing great," Law murmurs softly, his voice a mere whisper amidst the quiet of the room. Though his words are meant for your ears alone, they carry the weight of his unspoken longing, a silent confession hidden in the cadence of his voice.

With each fleeting glance exchanged, Law's heart sings with unspoken desires, his gaze lingering on your form with a tenderness he dare not voice aloud. He longs to tell you of the emotions that swirl within him, but the words remain trapped behind the cold walls of his stone-face.

As the task nears completion, Law steals another glance at you, "Thank you," he murmurs once more, his voice barely a whisper as he fights to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to spill from his lips.

As the final pieces fall into place, you steal a glance at Law, your eyes expressing not only undeniable gratitude but also a hint of something more — affection, perhaps?

“You did great,” Law smiles softly, "I barely helped," he chuckles, humility evident in his tone. "That was all you."

You blush at his praise, smiling softly and glancing down at the floor before shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Unable to speak your feelings aloud, you summon your courage and swallow dryly before pressing a soft kiss to your captain’s cheek.

Law's heart skips a beat at the unexpected touch, his face flushing faintly as he gazes at you.

In that fleeting moment, amidst the quiet of the room and the enchanting underwater world outside, your unspoken bond deepens, intertwining like the intricate threads of the ocean's currents.

With a shy smile, you turn to leave the room, your heart fluttering with newfound courage.

And as Law watches you go, a smile tugs at his lips, his admiration blossoming into something deeper—a silent sort of love.

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dimepdf · 2 years

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SEX, DRUGS, AND ROCK. + EDDIE MUNSON

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? summary. you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations. author's note. just started watching S4 and haven't even finished it, already drooling over Eddie. ya'll know I love my awkward men with long hair my god he is so fine. everyone thank Bee below for proofreading <3

[ ❥ ] pairing. eddie munson x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 3.3k

[ ❥ ] genre. 18+, pwp

[ ❥ ] warnings. no S4 spoilers, best friends to lovers, language, mature theme, slight drug usage, pet names, begging, body worship, whimpering, oral (f), thigh fetish, boob sucking, save a horse ride a cowboy, bottom eddie, slight sub/dom, protected sex, me not knowing how DND works

You and Eddie had been friends since the start of high school. You were there for the weird shaved head phase and stood directly right next to him the moment he developed his everlasting smitten crush on Chrissy Cunningham. Alas, you were the first girl to ever actually talk to him, the first friend, and at the moment, his only best friend.

You would do anything for the guy, as he would do the same for you.

You guys were inseparable, always hanging off of each other. His arm swung around your shoulder, and he sneaked into your bedroom at night to sleep on the floor just to get away from an argument he had with his uncle.

You hated to admit it, but you had fallen for your best friend. You despised how you had practically memorized every little habit and phrase he would suave from his lips, as well as the fluttering feelings and butterflies that swarmed inside you whenever he was around.

You couldn't help but smile at his stupid jokes and snarky insults.

But Chrissy Cunningham, the bane of your existence, was everything you weren't; popular, feminine, and the woman that Eddie had his eye on. You hated every time he would eye the girl from beside you. The heartache you had every time he would even mention the smallest thing about her.

Or when the other Hellfire Club members compared you two to a couple, and Eddie joked about how repulsive it would be to hook up with you because you were basically his "dude" female friend. You would just snort the joke off and refuse any hint of your feelings.

You don't know what has gotten into you.

Maybe it was your emotions finally building up from the many years that they were just ready to burst from the seams or the humanly concerning amount of edibles that you took to calm your heart from beating out of your chest, but you plotted the moment you had gotten home and laid on your bedroom floor staring up at your ceiling, that today was the day you were going to make your feelings known to Eddie Munson.

You couldn't keep your emotions in check any longer. You needed him to be aware of everything. You needed him. Your fingers hover over the phone, preparing to dial his number.

You exhale, slamming the phone down and throwing it off your nightstand, your fingers trembling. To hide the scream that came from your throat, you grabbed your pillow and pushed your face into it.

You summoned up enough courage to pick up your phone and pick at the skin on your bottom lip as the phone rang, flinching at the instant Eddie unexpectedly picked up from the other end of the phone, met with a brump. You could only presume he was eating at the time. "The one and only," he murmured.

"It's y/n, Eds." Listening to the other end's shuffling, faint music in the background, and Eddie's uncle saying something you couldn't make out, "Oh hey pretty princess, miss me already?" Even over the phone, you could see his trademark shit-eating grin.

"You wish Munson," you joke into the phone, spinning the phone cord as you reclined against your bed.

There was a quiet silence while you lay there listening to Eddie's guitar strumming softly, and the boy sighed.

"Are we just going to sit on the phone and whisper sweet nothings to each other, or did you call for a reason?" Your pulse pounded in response to the question, as your thoughts began to stutter you considered the string of sentences you wanted to construct.

"Uh, would you like to come over tomorrow to...study?" Another pause before spewing the first explanation that comes to mind. When your mouth opened, you flinched and clamped your eyes tight.

"Study?" Eddie repeated it almost as if you were speaking in a different language.

Even in your senior year, neither of you studied. You have never mentioned doing homework or classwork outside of school.

"Yeah, you know, we both need an English passing grade, so I just thought we could do it together to get it out of the way." You spoke swiftly and didn't stutter once, a master at lying. Figuring you'd dug yourself so far into a hole you might as well die in it, your fist pumped in the air as you mentally praised yourself.

"Okay, I'll be there. But I can't promise I won't be bored out of my mind." You didn't attempt to disguise your smile as you flopped onto your stomach, your feet springing up seemingly on their own as you ducked your head, "Okay, that was all bye."

And you threw your phone down, hanging up before he could say goodbye. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, as you pumped your feet higher in the air and pounded your fist into your pillows.

Eddie sat still on the edge of his bed on the opposite side of town, moving the phone away from his ear in confusion as his other hand rested on his guitar, lying on his thigh. He chuckled a little, scratching his head as he tried to piece together your thoughts.

You were just too difficult for him to figure out, never knowing what was going through your mind. You were always the only one that caught him off guard in a good way.

It was the day Eddie was invited to your house after school.

He didn't think much of it because you were acting normally in class and you two shared lunch. Eddie was clueless when it came to recognizing other people's emotions, which is why when you pulled him aside and told him you had to go home straight after school instead of attending Hell Fire Club, he didn't even raise an eyebrow.

He didn't think much of it because you weren't a big DND fan and when you did go to the club, you struggled to keep up with the shouting of commands and the story's progression.

He had to admit how adorable you looked as you struggled to understand some of the game rules that the boys had to explain to you over and over.

"Alright, the session is paused; if I show up too late, y/n is going to behead me," Eddie concluded, and Dustin's head shot up.

"It's Friday, dude. You said you'd give us another hour." Dustin grumbled, clearly annoyed, as he had probably planned to spend the majority of his night somewhere other than home since Suzie spent most of her time with her family on weekends.

"I don't care, y/n asked to hang," Eddie replied, packing his belongings as the majority of the members accepted defeat and left with their backpacks in hand. Dustin and Mike were the only ones who were the only ones left, as they both wanted to play a little longer.

"Don't you guys literally hang out all the time," Dustin continued, his tone tinged with annoyance, as Mike crossed his arms in agreement. "Yeah, you're always at her house unless you're planning on asking her out finally, what's the rush?" He cocked his brow in wonder.

Eddie shook his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, glaring at the two boys in front of him. "The lady asked to study. We're talking about y/n here." Eddie came to a halt as he walked away, hearing the two giggling behind him. He turned around and glared at the two again, rolling his eyes.

"No girl has ever asked to just study and then expected you to do so. Please, don't make me laugh." Mike's arms went to wrap around his torso as he couldn't stop laughing.

"And what the hell do you two fucking dweebs know about girls?" Eddie asked, puzzled. "In case you've forgotten, the only person in this room who is currently girlfriendless is you, Ed," Dustin said, raising his hand with a sarcastic smile plastered on his face and his braces shining under the light.

Mike gave Eddie a nod while pointing his finger in his direction, "Not after today,". Mike joked as he walked out of the club room, not bothering to entertain the two. Mike and Dustin trailed behind him, continuing to crack jokes. "Who would have guessed that y/n would be the first to make a move?" As the

two rode into the parking lot, the tall boy mocked his friend. Dustin parted, shouting, "don't forget to use protection!" successfully dodging Eddie's swing as he rode away.

The sound of the doorbell ringing caused you to jump out of bed and sprint from your bedroom to the front door. You'd been counting down the minutes since you got home in anticipation of seeing your best friend.

Eddie couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise when you swung open the door, his gaze immediately trailing over your bare legs because you were wearing shorts. An oversized black hoodie only covered the tops of your thighs.

Because he wasn't used to seeing you in anything other than your usual dark wash or black jeans that you wore to school—though it wasn't the first time he'd seen your bare legs.

He remembered how you used to drag the boy to the public swimming pool during the summer, wearing some carebear one piece your mother had bought you to swim in.

It was the first time you had changed in appearance since middle school and puberty, he noticed, his gaze breaking away from the plush of your thighs.

You pretended he hadn't noticed him staring at your legs as you laughed briefly before stepping aside and letting him in. As you snatched his hand and dragged him into your bedroom, Eddie watched as the hoodie rode up, struggling to cover your ass from behind.

The boy below swearing under his breath as his jeans tightened, cursing himself for trying to make a statement and wearing leather pants.

You sat on the floor as you swung open your bedroom door, all your homework spread across the floor, ready for you and Eddie to start. He immediately threw his bag on your mattress and sat across from you.

His gaze lowered at the sight of your thighs squishing as you sat on your knees, his gaze trailing over the flesh and stretch marks once more before he moved his gaze away, already fidgeting. "Would you like to listen to some music?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Eddie nodded before he could even process what you had asked. He thought back to Dustin and Mike teasing him, the memory clouding his mind as you fingered through your cassette collection before selecting the tape you knew Eddie would like.

"The Ramones, nice," he praised, smiling as you sat back down and met each other's gaze. "What else can I say? I discovered good music from the best." You responded sweetly, almost as if you didn't want him to avoid your gaze, which is exactly what you wanted. As your smile faded, you decided that now was the best time to end it all.

"I—uh, Eddie, I think I have something to tell you." He had noticed how your voice was just a little higher than a whisper, and his intense glance peering at you had his face suddenly get serious in tune with yours.

"Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?" His voice was so gentle with you as his hand reached to comfort your shoulder and his touch comforted you as you leaned into it.

Screw it, you thought, screw your entire well-thought-out plan about how you were going to talk him up before sneaking in your confession. You couldn't wait anymore. You spent your entire high school years waiting. You needed to spill your feelings to him.

After all, he was your best friend and you were both probably about to leave for college after graduation if anything happened that would end your friendship.

The two of you could manage to make this less awkward for each other if he didn't return the feelings as you raised your head to finally look at him. Eddie patiently waited for you to speak.

"Okay, please don't hate me, but I can't stop thinking about you and I'm fucking ashamed that I do. I know you like Chrissy, and every time I hear you talking about her I want to just, like die. I hate it when you talk about her because I want to be with you, to hold hands and do all the sappy love shit you know, to kiss you and—fuck, I don't know."

Eddie swallowed as you stumbled and struggled to find your words, and you froze as you watched him turn away, his eyes closing before turning back and reaching for your face, his lips on yours.

Eddie crawled over the pages of homework to push himself closer to you towering over you as his hands intruded under the bottom of your shirt going under the fabric as his fingers traced over your bare skin wrapping around your waist.

As the kiss deepened quickly, only the sounds of The Ramones playing throughout your room could be heard, along with the wet sounds of your tongues coaxing each other. As you tilted your head up and pressed your body against Eddie's, your mind became clouded with sexual desire.

Your hands reached behind his head to grab a fistful of his hair as he longed for more of you.

His groan was quickly swallowed by yours as he trailed the top of your shirt, pausing to touch the underwire of your bra. As Eddie fluttered his eyes open, his lips glistened and his eyes foggy with desire, you were the first to pull away for air. "I—uh, like you a lot, if that's not clear." His chuckle was deep, as the only thing he could stare at was your lips.

As you giggled, crashing your lips back into his. Eddie hummed, breaking away again, his fingers rubbing against the fabric of your bra. "Is this all right?" He breathed out.

You responded by removing your jacket and quickly removing your shirt to reveal your dark navy bra. It wasn't anything special to you, just a regular Macy's bra that your mother had chosen from a pack for you, but Eddie's starstruck gaze made it appear otherwise.

As he played with your tits, massaging them through the bra, almost trembling at the sounds you made every time his fingers brushed against what he assumed were your nipples through the material.

You reached out your hand to unclamp the bra, allowing Eddie's hands to touch your bare breasts. As he watched you shiver, his fingers ghosted over your nipples, feeling his rough, cold fingers fondle your warm flesh.

His head dipped lower before grabbing a handful of your boobs and placing his lips along your chest, trailing his sloppy kisses up your neck with each. You raised your hand to muffle the lewd moans that were escaping from your mouth.

As you became aware of the problem that was being pushed against your knee, the sensation of his tongue and teeth grazing your skin became dangerous for both of you.

Eddie lowered his gaze to your breasts once more, his lips latching onto your left nipple as his other hand teased the right, tongue sucking and teeth taunting. Your moans grew louder as you realized your parents were gone for the evening.

As Eddie's grunt vibrated against your nipple, your hand reached to the back of his head, fingering through the strands before pulling his hair once.

As you pressed your hand against the male's chest, you were both intoxicated by each other's touch. Eddie immediately backed away, fearful of making a mistake. An apology was on the verge of being spoken before you sat on his lap, leaning against your mattress.

As he didn't waste time removing his shirt, the sensation of your thin shorts against his clothed cock almost made him choke. Your gaze was drawn to the numerous tattoos strewn across his pale skin.

Eddie prayed that you wouldn't notice how fast his heart was beating, almost like it was trying to break free from his ribcage, as your hand dragged down his chest.

When your lips left red marks on Eddie's skin, he leaned back in acceptance. When your tongue brushed against his skin, his face went a soft pink. "Holy shit, princess, you have no idea what you're doing to me." Eddie let out a gasp. You felt yourself react to the sight of his body beneath you as he helped you remove both of your pants.

There's something about the sarcastic, emotionally shut-off male who's at your mercy.

The boy whimpered as his eyes rolled and his head leaned back the moment your hands freed and wrapped around his length. His swollen lips and flushed face, eyes begging you to ruin him, made you feel so confident as you held eye contact.

His chest rose with a low moan as he watched you touch him through slitted eyes, his cock jerking in response to your touch.

The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue as you wrapped your lips around his hard leaking tip, the warmth of your mouth making Eddie whimper uncontrollably.

As if you were attempting to steal his soul, his fist fisted into your bedsheets. As you took his entire length, his pubes tickled the top of your lips. Eddie moaned from the back of his throat, the pressure in his chest growing unbearable as he bit his fist.

“I want...can you ride me please?” As he begged for you so shyly, his tone was pitiful. You sat up on your knees, leaning over his face, the pop of his cock leaving your mouth making him swallow.

As you reached for the drawer of your night, Eddie tried not to drool at the sight of your boobs hanging so close to his face. Grabbing one of the condoms given to you by your guidance counselor the day you were sent home for wearing a tank top.

Eddie didn't ask why you had one as his mind was clouded by the sight of your bare chest as you rolled the condom down his length, his eyes filled with desire and need as you slowly lowered yourself down on his cock.

The new sensation of the warmth of your folds and the wetness of you around his dick made him roll his eyes with pleasure. “Holy shit, you feel so good.” His hands groped you, squeezing your flesh. Eddie didn't bother to hold back his moans when you finally began to bounce on his dick. Reaching for your lips as you kissed passionately, biting lightly on his lip.

The sensation made his dick twitch in you. Your movements were too much for him, he was moaning and panting mess, squeezing your ass and helping you fuck him while on the other hand, he was thrusting deep inside you.

He chased his own climax as his hips rose to meet you, the bubbling hot pleasure rising as his hands shook, your movement becoming sloppy and fast.

“Oh, god I'm gonna cum Eds.” You can feel him twitching inside of you as soon as the words leave your lips, the condom catching his thick string of cum as his legs shook. The moans leave his lips soft and gentle, the feeling of you clenching around him during your own climax driving him over the edge.

It took you both a long time to recover as you lay next to each other catching your breath, Eddie with his arm draped to cover his face as the price of his harsh breathing raised his chest. As you tilted your head to look at him, his other hand reached for yours.

“Can you only study like this with me from now on?”

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #netflix #dustin henderson #mike wheeler

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faeriekit · 28 days

Text

Things Long Gone

for a phic phight prompt from @armed-with-knitting-needles

Edward Lancer woke up the same way he did every morning.

He rolled out of bed. Brushed his teeth. Changed into a button-up and a tie, and slacks he wouldn’t hate throughout the course of the day.

He made his coffee like he did every day: he stuck his thermos under the machine, waited with a slice of toast until the coffee maker stopped pouring, and capped it in one smooth motion that shook its contents until everything was relatively mixed inside. No sweetners. No sugar. No milk.

Great. Ed went to grab his keys…

…His keys weren’t on the hook.

He blinked, hand frozen in its attempt so reach what wasn’t there. His. Where were his keys? He’d had them yesterday.

…He was pretty sure he’d had them yesterday. Hadn’t he gone to see Lizzy and the new baby? His sister had been so excited to show Charlotte off to her new uncle. Ed had been excited to go.

…Whatever. Amity Park was relatively walkable; as long as he dashed, he could get there in time.

So, off he jogged, into the hot, early morning, sweating and puffing as he went.

Ed made to the school entrance just as the bell rang for first period. He sighed, struggling for air—but at least he’d be able to swap in for Mrs. Keppler’s math course this morning. Man, he felt as if he’d run every class at this point. They might as well make him the—

Something invisible SLAMMED into his face.

His nose crunched. Ed swore in every classic title he knew, stumbling back and grabbing at his nose—ugh, and his fingers were coming away wet. He had to go see the nurse, or, more likely, the hospital. He was later than ever, but he’d have to—

He tried for the door again. Again, something stopped him.

…Ed frowned. He rapped against the invisible boundary with his knuckles. It was probably ghosts, again, but this was unusually…static. Benign?

“Ed, good heavens! What happened to your face?”

Ed turned around, nose slowly beginning to swell up in his hands as Ms. Cathleen Rylant stalked up the walkway to the school. “G’Morning,” he grunted, unable to summon the capacity for proper pronunciation. “I…seem to be blocked from getting into the building.”

Cathleen frowned. Her shoulder bag was pulled higher onto her thin, elderly shoulder: a nervous gesture. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ed! Is there anything…”

“Do you mind testing it for me?” Ed tried, carefully cupping the blood he could feel from dripping down onto his dress shirt. “If it affects you, or is unique to me…”

There were a few ghosts that targeted individuals. Ed had some surety that the genie ghost had gotten him to ‘call out from school’ today—there was a text today, and he would not put it past

“Got it,” the elderly science teacher offered sweetly. Cathleen was a gift, truly. “Was it…?”

Ed smacked a hand against the barrier. There was no visible sign of it—no distortion, no ripple, no change in color.

“Got it.” Cathleen—and her much more fragile bones—carefully put a hand out, expecting to be able to put her weight on it.

She just barely caught her balance before falling onto the concrete step. Ed reached out a hand to help her, and, of course, ended up with bruised fingers for the trouble. He swore.

“Huh,” she said. “…Well, I’m late for first period anyway; want me to tell Yuuko what’s holding you up?”

Ed sighed. He reminded himself that informing their principal would be best, considering the circumstances… “Yes, please. Thank you, Cathleen.”

“No problem, Ed.”

And Edward Lancer sat on the front step of the school, back leaned against nothing, and waited to see what could be done for him.

He took his hand away from his nose to reach for his coffee.

…His blood wasn’t red.

Ed’s blood went cold.

Wait. Why had—

—Screeching tires, metal SLAMMED into its final place, snapping, cracking, the lights cutting out, a choked last breath—

…Ed’d had his car yesterday. Why didn’t he have it this morning?

“I’m imagining things,” Ed muttered to himself. He wiped the green blood onto the back of his clean plants and resolved to wait for Principal Ishiyama.

Mr. Lancer was still outside the school by the time lunch rolled around.

“So he’s just…hanging out?” Sam asked around a mouthful of vegan-and-cruelty-free sushi, staring from their place under the tree at their teacher and his crowd of educational professionals.

Danny shrugged. He swallowed a bite of ham-and-baloney. “Looks like,” he observed. They watched as Mr. Lancer proved, again, that no matter how hard his middle-age-professional bulk heaved and pushed, there was no getting past the entryway into the school.

“…Huh.” Sam took a second bite. Across the yard, Mr. Lancer slipped on the invisible barrier, and everyone got closer to help pick him off the ground. “Any idea why this is happening?”

Danny put his sandwich down. He didn’t say anything.

Sam turned to look at him. “Danny?”

“…I saw an accident on the way home with Dad last night,” Danny offered quietly. He picked a little speck of nothing off of his sandwich. “The two cars were bent in half at the bottom of the ravine. There were rescue trucks and police all over the other side of the highway; cars were backed up for like four exits behind it. One of the cars looked like Mr. Lancer’s gray crapbox, but it’s not like I could get a good look…”

Sam went quiet. Danny stayed quiet.

They watched as Mr. Lancer explained, again, for the nineteenth time, that he couldn’t get into the school, and didn’t know why.

“…Oh,” said Sam. She set her chopsticks down.

“Mmhmm.” Danny swallowed. “Uh…looks like Mom’s updates on the ghost shields are working, though.”

“No kidding,” Sam echoed absently.

Eventually, lunch was over. When they went back inside, half-eaten lunches packed back up to take home for later, the distant figure of Mr. Lancer was still outside the school door, hoping to be let back in.

#phic phight #phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #car accident #tw death #i mean it is Danny Phantom. but also #faer fic #is there a better tag for this??#phicphight2024

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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months

Text

Gods and Clergy: Bane

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Well, I did the murderhobos, might as well cover the deity and daily business of our favourite hot-topic-shopping dictator and co. now? Ahahahahaaaaa There is too much goddamn material on Bane, I'm going to kill Ed Greenwood-

Intro: If you're not consumed with fear and hatred while trying to take over a city which you intend to rule with cruelty and an iron fist then this is not the religion/political party for you. If this is not the religion/party for you, please lower your neck so that I can attach this slave collar to it.

Banites: The hierarchy and rituals and stupid toys of the church of Bane is what you get when Lawful Evil and Lawful Stupid have a horrible, overcomplicated offspring called Lawful Sadistic. Bring me the avatar of Bane I'm going to stab this fucker Also, being goth is mandatory.

Dreadmasters: More teleporting! Bossy, immune to fear and fond of magic rods. Also, do you remember that "divine oath" Durge and Gortash swore...?

The Chosen: Should be way more impressive than what we saw in game. Forging unbreakable oaths! Pet beholders! Detachable shadow spies! Etcetera!

Bane: Boy, the world (and my sanity) would've been a much better off if this dude had gotten intensive therapy instead of divine power!

(This thing is too fucking long and should perhaps be split into two posts but ooooh my god am I not editing this anymore.)

---

Bane's clergy often hear their god whispering his dogma in their dreams:

"Serve no one but me. Fear me always - and make others fear me even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down on those who stand against it in the end. Defy me and die - or in your death find loyalty, for I shall compel it. Submit to my will, [as uttered by my ranking clergy] since true power can only be gained through service to me. [Spread the dark fear of Bane.] It is the doom of those unguided by me to let power spill through their hands. [Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.]" - Bane's Dogma [with 14th century addendums in brackets]

Bane is basically the quintessential villain of the Realms. When a person pictures the face of evil, they picture this god and his followers.

The most important thing to know about Bane and his religion, in my opinion, is summed up here:

"The summons [from Ao] had come wearing the face and form of that which each of the gods feared most. [...] To the Black Lord, Bane, the summons came in the guise of absolute love and understanding, its light searing his essence as it carried him from his kingdom." - Shadowdale

You want to give one of the most evil bastard in the pantheon a panic attack? Give him a hug.

Following a brief version of a backstory that has been given for him; the mortal who would be Bane was born on Abeir, Toril's linked twin planet/parallel universe. There he was a nameless battle slave to Maram of the Great Spear - an ancient primordial being of absolute evil whom the Netherese had summoned into the world, where it broke free and started inflicting horrors upon the world. While in the service of said horrifying evil, the young slave nurtured ambitions of having absolute power for himself.

While on Toril he teamed up with his two future frenemies, Bhaal and Myrkul, and they killed (or possibly subjugated) his master and took his power for themselves, before heading off to nag Jergal for his job. After bickering, the ex-slave known only as "the Bane of the Ancients" wins the draw and gets to be what he always wanted - the epitome of tyranny with godlike power. The next step for him is to conquer the mortal world and destroy all the other gods so that none have power and control over him.

Banite religion is founded on the principle of making Bane's dream of global domination possible. Every Banite is a link in the chains of Bane's power. What they rule, he rules. All Banites strive to take over something (village, city, kingdom, army, whatever). All Banites are expected to aid and obey their superiors in this domination.

When in control, a Banite is to use their power to "further the cause of hate, fear, destruction and strife." Doing so within the control of the law is preferable, but chaos is tolerated as long as that chaos is wielded as a tool with perfect control. You can get voted into power by stirring up people's fears of minorities, or start the apocalypse and present yourself as the saviour - but you must not be overwhelmed, or you have failed.

The world is divided into slaves who have no power and exist to serve, and the powerful who command them. Bane is the rightful master of all and all are to serve him, and by extension his followers (those with the strength to seek, take and hold power), willingly or by force. Control is the key virtue in the eyes of the faith. Always be in control and/or be controlled by somebody more capable/deserving of power than you. As their lessers are expected to obey every order perfectly, the superiors are expected to be competent in their leadership and wield perfect command.

Banites pride themselves on being cold and decisive in all that they say and do. They also enjoy cutting sarcasm. It's vital to appear in command of yourself and the world around you - shouting, loss of temper and other outbursts of behaviour that suggest a lack of control/power are avoided like the plague. Two Banites on the brink of killing each other may appear to be in the midst of only a polite, but insistent disagreement.

Bane used to enjoy watching his power hungry idiots backstabbing each other to climb the ranks while overzealous worshippers splintered into factions and started killing each other (most notably a divide between the divine-magic based orthodoxy and the arcane-magic based reformers/"Transformers".) Then Mystra technically killed him during a fight with Torm in the Time of Troubles, and Cyric took over his church. When Bane made a comeback in the 14th century he immediately decided they wouldn't be doing that anymore. Now it's an united rigid hierarchy from top to bottom, and Banites are a well organised, well equipped unit.

The laws of the heathens are irrelevant, but a Banite who gets caught breaking those law trying to achieve their goals is expected to suck it up and do the time for failure - unless they've been doing such a good job that everybody's too far under their control to try and punish them for it, in which case great job. A+ in Bane worship.

Banites typically establish themselves in an area by finding a location out of sight of a civilisation and building a fortress, where they build their power until they are too strong a force to drive off. Taking over an existing fort is also a possibility. The temple is run like a military base: spartan, with only tapestries showing Bane's symbol and religious texts on it for decoration. The courtyard is meant for military drills and rituals, and there's a mass hall for dining and holding prayer. They like pointy architecture. And black. Oh, and the torture basements! Can't forget those. It's also where they keep a variety of trained monsters in pens. You may end up sharing your cell with a displacer beast or something, but don't worry about it.

Banites have a secret network of teleporting spells. The actual "portals" will be any space of stone big enough to stand on, which are magically connected to other points (also stone). If you stand on one and speak the correct password, then it will teleport you to the destination designated by that password. There are no spells or barriers that can prevent the teleporter from arriving at their destination. Banites can bring others along with them if they are physically connected when the password is said. They can't bring more than 100lbs of inanimate matter with them.

All are welcome to convert to Bane. There will be an interview where your intentions are checked, although if it turns out you're not actually evil-aligned you can still join. There's a good chance that they'll use magic to turn you into an "incorruptible champion of evil and uncompromising disciple of order" anyway; "for Bane recognizes the value of those who have seen the lure of good and turned away from it to serve evil."

Or just use dark magic to twist you from a person into a weapon/guard/servant bound to the service of Bane anyway.

Banites are also able to ensure loyalty with a magically binding divine oath called the Dark Promise, cast by his favoured priests (Dreadmasters). It's an old spell, back from the early days when Bane was a new god and his followers were vulnerable, and is not used as often. When the spell is cast and the oath is made, a set of circumstances are set into motion that targets of the spell must follow to the letter. The promise must have Bane's interests at heart and the conditions and stipulations cannot be endanger the individuals' lives. If the oath is violated, it drains the oath breaker's life force. The damage done by this spell cannot be healed, and if the oath breaking does not cease then they will die.

Bane is one of the few exceptions amongst the gods in that his worshippers are all henotheistic rather than polytheistic. Banites consider worship of other deities "foolish," Bane is the only master you should truly serve. All under Banite rule will be forced to convert to the worship of Bane. They are however willing to cooperate with the followers of Loviatar (pain), Talona (disease), Malar (predation), and Mask (thievery) as Bane has terrified these gods into allying with him. From a certain school of Banite thought, this means that they and their followers are part of the chains of Bane's will (the gods/faithful in question probably wouldn't agree). Bhaal was, or perhaps still is, a servant of Bane and he and Myrkul have also been counted amongst Bane's allies in the past, despite their tendency to squabble, so cooperation with Bhaalists and Myrkulites is not unimaginable when it serves both their deities.

Banites do not get on so well with... anybody, but they particularly hate worshippers of Ilmater (compassion), Tyr (justice), Helm (non-Banite order), Lathander (optimism/renewal), Torm (champion of the innocent), Oghma (knowledge) and Mystra. If they get their hands on one they'll usually torture them and leave their mutilated bodies somewhere for the distressed public to find. Bane and Cyric are still at war, both due to humiliation and the fact that they're still fighting over areas of divine power that the other has stolen/reclaimed from the other, and the corpses of Cyricists that fall into Banite hands are usually found with "heretic" branded on their foreheads as a warning to others who worship the usurper.

Banite clergy are expected to always be armed, and it is mandatory that you at least wear something black at all times. For ceremonial purposes, Banites wear black armour or robes with a blood-red cape. Wizards like to enchant their robes so that they swirl and give off illusions of glittering with "black stars" and have blood dripping off the hem. The higher in the ranks you go, the fancier the clothes get. Banites used to have facial tattooing, although this made them rather easy to identify and kill off when Cyric took over and some purges took place. The highest ranking Banites can be identified by a gem that they wear on their forehead. Banites are not expected to wear anything that would identify their religious affiliations if it would get them persecuted, but they do like decorating their clothes with spikes and are are expected to dress in a certain specific colour that I'm getting sick of typing out. When Bane rules the world we will all be dressing as goths under threat of execution...

Each priest has a ceremonial staff denoting their rank, which they will have at these rituals. When a Banite dies they are buried with it. They are unenchanted and purely for ceremony, at most being used to light braziers. It starts with a simple black wood staff [level 1], which at higher ranks has an ivory skull at the top [lvl 2-4]. Higher yet they add silver plating, and the skull is the size of a fist [lvl 5], and the even higher level priests that skull has ram horns [lvl 6]. After that you get real human skulls! [at lvl 7+]! They're allowed to decorate theirs how they like, as well as adding enchantments. So gemstones, magic runes, etc.

Bane's holy symbol is the Black Hand, a symbol of terror recognisable to the entire Realms. Versions include a black handprint, a black claw or a metal gauntlet embedded with jewels. Priests usually wear a replica of the hand as a carved pendant of black stone. There is another Black Hand seen on his high-ranking priests: elbow-length gloves crafted of flexible metal mesh or chainmail, usually worn on the left hand. It emits an eerie dark radiance, i's supposed to be black, and a non-Banite found wearing one can expect every Banite on the planet to hunt them to the ends of the world for this blasphemy (also it's about 50,000gp in value jfc). The gauntlet cannot be damaged by force and absorbs all spells of third level or less. Area of effect spells are not negated, but cannot affect the wearer. It can drain magic out of items, should the wearer touch them with intent to do so. The wearer can then discharge all of the absorbed magic into the body of another by touching them, causing them damage. They can also paralyze undead and living beings via touch.

To question or disobey a superior is to question or disobey Bane himself, and is answered by torture, disfigurement and/or death. The word of a Banite of superior rank is law, and you will do literally anything they ask you to do.

Banites have invented a magic whip (a mystic lash) that does all sorts of fun nonsense in case that happens. It's made of glowing red energy. If the priest needs their hands free then the whip can actually wield itself (need to scourge that annoying initiate, but you don't want to look up from your book? Then good news!) If the wielder choses, a lash of the whip may cause one of the following; paralysis, memory loss, seizures, extra damage plus the disintegration of equipment, or electrocution.

One is expected to greet those of higher rank by kneeling in front of them and kissing their boots

At the bottom of the hierarchy are the novices, who are addressed by the title of "slave." If they're good enough, Bane will send them a dream vision or manifest as a voice speaking from one of his altars - he will name them, and they are allowed to enter the first rank of the priesthood… of which there are 12 ranks with their own unique addresses, which everybody is expected to memorise. Disrespect to a higher rank will, as mentioned, involve insulting Bane and lead to torture, disfigurement and potential death.

The only time you're not expected to use the titles is when in the presence of heathens, Banites will address each other as Brother/Sister Faithful (when speaking to an equal/lesser) or Dread Brother/Sister (when addressing a superior).

Banites do not refer to each other by name, only by the name of their rank (unless there are too many individuals of the same rank. In the case you had a room full of Black Fangs, you would address them individually as Black Fang [Surname].) It's generally impossible for eavesdroppers to learn the names or personal details of a Banite.

The rankings are determined by character level, and are as follows:

Watchful Brother/Sister/Sibling

Deadly Adept

Trusted Servant

Willing Whip

Hooded Menace

Black Fang

Striking Hand

Vigilant Talon

Masked Death

Dark Doom

Higher Doom

Deep Mystery

The Deep Mysteries include the Deeper Mysteries… which have their own ranks! Secret, higher levels which are unknown to those of the first 11 levels who must address all higher ranking Banites as "Deep Mystery." There is no official means by which a Banite is bestowed this title, they bestow them upon themselves if they believe they should have the rank. The test lies in the fact that in order to keep the title their fellow Banites must also begin using them - in other words if you are not a pretender and truly have the power and authority to hold this title, then your siblings in the faith will follow.

The ranks of the Deep Mysteries, in order of authority, from lowest to highest:

Vigilator

Lord/Lady of Mysteries

Lord/Lady of the Hand

Imperceptor

Dark Imperceptor

Grand Bloodletter

High Inquisitor

The High Imperceptor is the Banite of highest rank of the Deep Mysteries, supreme living servant of Bane, and unlike the prior titles this one cannot be self-bestowed. I haven't seen any explanation for how it is bestowed, but I imagine Bane decides.

Banites don't bother with set holy days. We will have a holy day whenever the leading priest decides we're having one, and it will be called whatever they decide it is. This usually means a) somebody fucked up, time for a public punishment; or b) we've got an enemy/traitor, time for human sacrifice.

Rituals are to be held in as close to pitch darkness as is possible, gathered around the Black Altar (a wood table covered in a black cloth, a block of black stone - whatever, just so long as it's black so we can give it an ominous name). The Black Altar is to be made holy by having a replica of the Holy Hand of Bane floating above it (this too has to be black in colour). This is a levitating 6 foot tall stone hand that can sense alignments within a 60 foot radius, and it will attack good-aligned people on encountering them. When not in use it patrols Banite locations, seeking out spies and intruders and killing them.

And that the Seat of Bane will be placed in front of the Black Altar. The chair is black, its back is carved into the shape of a hand. Senior clergy sit in the throne when acting as Bane's voice for the rest of the congregation. So the leader of the area's Banites sits in the chair, and that means Bane is sitting in the chair. While sitting in it, the seated can read the thoughts of all beings within 90 yards. it can project a forcefield around the chair; can nullify magic in the area; allows the seated to see through illusions and invisibility; know the alignment of everyone present; allow the seated to speak with dead; and also conjure walls of fire. If the chair is knocked over, it causes a massive explosion of fire that kills everyone around it.

Then the party. With minimum partying and maximum solemn, ominous chanting and deep, heavy drum beats. Those guilty of disobedience or other failures will be chained to the altar and whipped in front of the congregation. And then there's the human sacrifice: "Sacrifices had to be humiliated, tortured, and made to show fear before dying to be acceptable to Bane, and they usually met their deaths through slashing, flogging, or being crushed by the Hand of Bane."

The traditional power base of the Banite faith was Zhentil Keep, the base of operations for the Zhentarim. The Black Network has once again been taken from Bane by Cyricists however, after the death of Fzoul Chembryl a few decades back - Fzoul was a Chosen of Bane and basically his favourite servant (who has since been made into a quasi-deity bearing some of Bane's divine power, that he may continue to serve) and Zhentil Keep is currently in ruins. The loss of the Keep (for a second time) destroyed Zhentarim power, and now they're mostly just a bunch of mercenaries with good connections on the black market trade routes (slaves, drugs, weapons, etc) as far as I can find.

The Dreadmasters are Bane's specialty priests, making up 10% of all Banites. Dreadmaster is a unisex title. They spend their time doing all the spellwork and making all the delightful inventions that have been giving me a headache. They have a stupid number of spells given to them. Nobody else's specialty priests have this many fucking spells.

They cannot feel fear from sources other than Bane

They can, however, project the feeling of absolute terror into every being within 10 feet of them, usually causing everyone to run screaming.

They can completely destroy the souls of the dying

Create extra evil undead

Create powerful, still sapient undead servants from dead Banites (from ghouls up to vampires)

Create animated suits of armour that serve the Banites, powered by people's souls

Make a warding symbol drawn with a mixture containing three drops of blood from a collection made by sacrificing 30 people. The ward is invisible and cannot be detected, and when activated it drains the life out of everyone present.

They have a supernatural knack for reading other's true moods and intentions They have a supernatural level of charisma and authority over their servants, who cannot help but be fanatically loyal

They are exceptionally skilled in the artificing of magical wands, rods and staves. When they use them the magic of the items is increased.

They're the ones who cast the stonewalk spells that make the teleport network run.

They're also the priests responsible for binding the Dark Promise.

"The Chosen of Bane are tyrants in every sense of the word, consumed with the quest for absolute power. Hand-picked by the deity of tyranny and fear, [they] are both charismatic and filled with hate [...] They seek only to rule with absolute, unchallenged authority over every living and undead create across the world."

They are unbothered by temperature, both hot and cold, as well as resistant to being burned or electrocuted.

They do not age, though they will still die at an age where they would've died if they did age.

Supernatural insight into motives and emotions, and a massive boost to their charisma.

They can mind control people, are immune to fear, can share this immunity with others or increase the fear they feel.

They can also cast gaes, which is basically exactly the same as the Dark Promise, but doesn't necessarily have to benefit Bane (blasphemous as that sounds).

They can summon undead beholders to serve them

They can grant their own shadows independence as an undead creature of the same name (shadows), While separate the shadow is free-willed, though the two remain telepathically linked.

They are served by a retinue of their own master's servants including: doppelgangers; helmed horrors; beholders; undead Banites; hell hounds; imps; displacer beasts; Banelar nagas (evil snake things with human faces)

Bane doesn't like using avatars, if he needs to manifest on Toril he just possesses people in positions of wealth and power who transform into handsome, yet "oily" looking black haired men as long as he's inhabiting them. The souls of these people are forced to watch as the god does what he wants. Once the body is "worn out" from all the punishment he puts them through (mortal shells, so fragile) he'll move to another evil or neutral mortal via touch.

If he strikes out with his gauntleted hand, then there is a good chance that the person stuck will drop dead.

In combat he warps the face into a more beastial visage. His hands become talons capable of "rending flesh and bone" and in the Time of Troubles when he was first forced to manifest as a normal human he immediately started editing the body into a more demonic visage although that might've been because he'd just crash landed in his own temple and destroyed it, and only had a few moments until his torture happy zealots turned up to find what seemed to be some random dude standing in the wreckage. He was in kind of a panic trying to make sure they saw Bane, God of Tyranny not... that.

His other manifestations as a pair of blazing red eyes staring out from the darkness, and a black, taloned hand which was the temperature of ice to the touch. They work exactly like his other manifestation.

Bane sometimes announces his presence, and that he is paying attention to you, with the sudden manifestation of the giant footprint of a boot, scorched into the earth. He shows his approval of his followers through their sudden discovery of a black sapphire. His disapproval is shown through the sudden appearance of red carnelian, ground into dust.

He is served by various devils, beholders, death tyrants (the undead remains of beholders that failed him), black dragons, banelar nagas and pride incarnates

Bane can cast any spell at will, save those that heal or create.

Bane was slain in the Time of Troubles. After his death his followers had an even bigger row between those who were loyal to Bane (orthodoxy) and those who worshipped his portfolio instead of the god himself and switched to Cyric. Many of the Orthodoxy began worshipping Iyachtu Xvim the Godson, son of Bane (whose mother was either a fiend or a fallen human paladin, nobody's sure).

Xvim was doing a pretty ok job in his nascent godhood up until 1372 DR, when Bane hijacked the essence of himself he'd left in his son and destroyed him - being reborn within his body and immediately regaining the rank of Greater Deity. About a few years following the Bhaalspawn Crisis, the year where Bhaal was supposed to be reborn from the death of his kids but failed.

Bane went on to continue being one of the most infamous, powerful and dangerous gods on Faerûn up until the Second Sundering, when suddenly we've got confusion.

In BG3 canon, the Dead Three are clearly greater than quasi-deity status. Due to new rules that WotC pulled out of their ass, gods of lesser deity status or higher cannot manifest avatars. Bane can still empower clerics and have Chosen, so he's most likely still a Greater Deity in BG3.

In Descent into Avernus, the Dead Three are apparently quasi-deities now, forced to exist in permanent avatars on Toril and unable to grant spells of have Chosen.

I think this nicely explains what I mean when I say D&D has no fucking "real" canon, it's all just a mountain of everyone's headcanons.

#Bane doesn't need to torture people; having to learn all the stupid details in his religion is already hell #enver gortash #long post #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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missingexaltation · 1 year

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There were two methods that Steve used to use to get someone infatuated with him.

The first is just as he told Dustin. Pretend you don't care, and it drives the ladies mad. He used it a lot in high school, and the success rate was pretty good. It hadn't worked fully on Nancy, for reasons unknown to him, but it had at least worked enough for her to date him. It just hadn't been enough to keep her.

It didn't work on Eddie either. Like, at all.

The guy was just too busy to notice he was being semi ignored, in between his tattoo apprenticeship, part time job at Thatcher's, prepping his D&D campaigns, band practise and evenings with Wayne. It was insane.

The other method though, was something pretty new in Steve's repertoire. Something that he knew drove Eddie absolutely nuts. Pretending to know about his nerd shit and getting it wrong.

And it was so easy.

'Stevie that's star TREK, completely different franchise.'

'No, that's the one with the weird portal thing, I know what I'm talking about dude.'

'That's star GATE. Jesus H Christ.' It's not even a film, it's a book that I KNOW you haven't read.'

It was so easy. Eddie was a great guy, he really was, but he was so particular about the things he likes, and it made it so easy to wind him up. It as as though those years of mockery at high school had had an effect on him, even though he claimed it didn't. He was protective by nature, of the kids (his little sheepies), his hobbies, the music he listens to, the place he lives. If an outsider tries to invade and conquer his little world, Eddie's already pulled up the drawbridge and summoned the defence.

Too bad Steve was already in the castle.

Just those big, vacant, Harrington eyes, and a look of innocence was enough. It was so funny to watch Eddie twist himself into knots trying to explain the minutiae of his hobbies, or films, or even (on one occasion), the bands that Eddie listened to, because he just had to correct Steve, or have him see things the right way.

It took far too long for Eddie to catch on, and the moment he did, Steve found himself pinned against the van, laughing his head off at Eddie's very outraged but somewhat impressed expression.

'Maybe I just like getting you all worked up, Eds.' He says, not so innocently running his hand up Eddie's arm.

A myriad of emotions runs across his face before Steve leans up to place a very chaste, gentle kiss on the corner of Eddie's mouth.

'You sneaky little -' Eddie says, softly shaking his head in disbelief, 'this all a part of the great Harrington seduction technique, huh?'

Steve shrugs, leaning back to settle against the van.

'Took you long enough.' He says, and waits, all cocky smirk and tilted chin, for Eddie to kiss him this time.

100% success rate (so far).

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #look I'm not saying that Eddie gatekeep girlboss gaslights people into doing what he wants...but he's a little shit (affectionate)#he's almost definitely one of those guys that would ask you to name songs from a band t shirt you're wearing #but he's also like...20 years old (ish) so he's just a typical nerd with some gatekeeping tendencies #and Steve's a jock that's used to picking on (and kicking apart) nerdy stuff...so it's a great combination #Eddie's canonical little tiny temper tantrums are amazing and completely overlooked #he gets so frustrated with other people it's hilarious...poor baby

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ravenssilver · 5 months

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Maybe something with Phantom getting left out of dinner in the beginning? Started with someone intentionally or accidentally leaving his plate off, and he's too nervous to ask why he doesn't get one when Aurora does. He eventually stops coming to dinner, and someone starts to notice just how sickly, and dizzy the smaller ghoul looks because he's too afraid to ask for any food or take any yet

unfortunately this is is part one of two :( i got super caught up in writing a whole mini story, and i felt bad for taking so long, so here this is!

1.4k words of phantom being neglected because i can’t get enough of the heartbreak

cw: mention of body issues, phantom is nervous about being around the pack, small scene of phantom vomiting, i guess some of this could be seen as an ed? the ask is a good wrap of cws!

also, ‘quint’ is used in this instead phantom or aeon, and will likely be that way in the next part :)

under the cut, if you please<3

He didn’t have a name. At least, he hadn’t come up with one.

The others referred to him as Quint, just to get names straight among him and his summon buddy, Aurora.

He stared at the ceiling as he laid in bed, his eyebrows furrowed.

Aurora had a name. Did she pick it out? Or was it Cirrus and Cumulus? Why didn’t the others pick out a name for him?

He sat up with a sigh, feeling hungry.

He glamoured himself as best he could, only having enough of a grasp on the ability to hide the different color splotches in his skin.

As he walked out of his room and to the common area, he stared down at his arm which was buzzing with his quintessence induced glamor.

Aurora’s markings were beautiful. The subtle yet bright flows of pinks and purples and blues blended perfectly with her skin. The small swipes of green made her look like a perfect painting that had hours of detailed brush strokes put into it.

His markings just looked like splotches. Random globs of paint flicked at a canvas in a half-assed attempt to make art.

He wondered if Aurora ever tried to glamor away the markings of her skin. Surely not, as she was gorgeous. The colors of her skin showed her personality and her connection with confidence and self love. Her mental state flowed healthily through her skin, the beauty of security blending in with her vessel.

He sighed and dropped his arm back down to his side, trying to focus on his pack’s laughter just around the corner and the scraping of forks against plates.

His steps slowed for a moment.

Dinner had started?

Confused, the newly summoned ghoul sped up only to slow down again. He peaked around a corner, seeing his pack at the dining room table. All the chairs were full, all plates had someone behind them and were stacked with the delicious cooking of Swiss and Mountain.

Every chair was full. Every plate was stacked.

There was no space for him.

A little ball of anxiety formed in his stomach, making his quintessence spark. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stepped around the corner and shuffled to the kitchen to fix himself a plate.

Though, he was quick to realize all the food prepared was on the table.

Mountain and Swiss had prepared a feast in celebration for the pack’s first dinner together. Dew and Rain had just returned from a small trip away with Copia for business, of course everyone would want to celebrate.

He looked at Dewdrop and Rain. He took in their appearances, memorizing his first in person encounter with them as he was simply used to seeing them over FaceTime.

His eyes traveled to Swiss and Mountain as he set his plate back in the cupboard.

Maybe they were just swept up in the joy of being reunited with their partners and that’s why they forgot to prepare a plate for him.

He nodded to himself and snuck out of the dining room.

That’s okay. He can eat leftovers tonight and he’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He sighed as he brought his fifth night of leftovers to his room. It was long after dinner, and it was long since the others had retreated to their rooms.

Tomorrow, he told himself, I’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He knew, deep down, that he had been forgotten. Of course he knew. Twice was an accident, a coincidence, maybe. Three times, if you had self respect, was a pattern.

But for the young quint, it was an accident.

It was an accident just like the fourth time, and now, this time.

He slowly ate his potatoes, his churning stomach fighting against every bite he took. He was lost in his thoughts, off in his own world of anxiety and the pain of knowing he was being left out of his own pack.

He hadn’t been able to keep food down when he realized that he had been forgotten. Every night he would eat a meal long after dinner, only to be bent over a toilet not long after.

He celebrated every bite he took and could swallow, having not been able to get this far the night before.

Though, his food was quick to come right back up when he heard Rain’s laughter in the next room over. He tossed his plate down and rushed to his bathroom, which wasn’t helpful since it was right next to Swiss’ room, which Rain was in.

He hurled into the toilet as Rain’s laughter continued, now accompanied by Dew and Swiss’. And once his stomach had no more food to send back up, it sent its own acid instead.

He felt like he was dying. He was light headed, his body was trembling, and his throat burned and felt like it was closing up. He sobbed as he flushed the toilet, struggling to close the lid due to how shaky he was.

He knew Swiss, Dew, and Rain couldn’t hear him over the sounds of their laughter and Swiss’ record player. He knew that he hadn’t bonded enough with Aurora, Cirrus, Cumulus, or Mountain for them to feel his strife.

That just made him even more sick.

He gave up on even going to dinner a week ago.

He also gave up on leftovers after Swiss and Mountain started cooking smaller portions after having a conversation about how they always had “too much leftovers.”

He sighed as he pulled on a shirt that was too big for him. He thought it was the shirt Swiss had given him when he was summoned, but after staring down at it for a few moments he realized that it was his shirt.

A shirt he had bought with his own allowance money from Copia.

Why is it so big? Did the dryer stretch it? He asked himself, messing with fabric for a few more moments before he left it alone, opening his door and leaving his room for practice.

He sighed to himself as he walked into the practice room early, seeing Copia sitting in a chair as he waited for the ghouls.

“Ah, hello, Quint.” Copia smiled at him as he looked up. “Hello…” He choked out, not realizing his voice was so hoarse. Copia’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood, watching as the new ghoul struggled more than usual to pick up the Fantomen.

“Are you alright…? You look, how shall I say… pale? Worn out?” Copia asked, looking concerned for his ghoul.

The quintessence ghoul looked up, apparently a bit too fast for his body’s liking. His head spun and he stumbled back slightly, eliciting a slight exclamation of surprise from Copia. The ghoul stumbled back into a chair and sat ridged for a moment before sloppily acting like he had meant to fall.

“I’m fine.” He stated, his shaky fingers doing a run up the A string.

Copia stared at him for a moment, a bad feeling swirling around in his stomach.

“You will tell me if you are not, yes?” Copia asked, worried about his ghoul. “Yes, Papa,” the small quint nodded, shaking out his hands to try and make his trembling go away.

Copia’s frowned deepened as he went to say more, only to be cut off by the loud clamor of the rest of his ghouls crowding into the practice room.

Copia sighed, knowing the conversation would have to be put up on a shelf for the time being.

“Dewdrop.”

The fire ghoul turned around as Copia called his name. He watched his pack slow down for a moment, only to be reassured with a soft smile from their Papa that Dew hadn’t done anything wrong.

Dew watched as the pack nodded and walked out of the practice room, Quint following behind and slipping out of the room just before Copia called for him.

The fourth Papa sighed deeply, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything alright, Papa?” Dew asked, sensing Copia’s worry. And though it wasn’t far off from the man’s usual demeanor, Dew could tell this was different.

“No.” Copia sighed, knowing he had to be blunt. “I am worried for our young Quintessence. Have you noticed anything off about him?” Copia asked.

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, going to say something, only to realize just how much of a ghost the new quintessence had been.

“I… I haven’t seen much of him at all, actually. He’s never shown up for dinner and he stays in his room all the time.” Dew responded, now realizing where Copia’s worry was coming from.

“Keep an eye on him, yes?” Copia requested. Dew gave a curt nod and walked out of the practice room, quick to catch up with his pack.

#i’m sorry i can’t stop writing this kind of aeon angst #ghost band fic #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost the band #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #nameless ghouls #dew ghoul #papa copia #ravenssilver writes

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acowardinmordor · 1 year

Text

Thank christ everyone in Hawkins already thought he was a freak. Freezing mid-word in a monologue while the memory of his own failing pulse faded from his ears was exactly as weird as the fact that he was delivering the monologue from on top of a cafeteria table. The students who were ignoring him continued ignoring him. The ones paying attention waited for whatever dramatic continuation he’d have after a pause.

Eddie waited on the table, staring across the room to look at Chrissy Cunningham for a few seconds, then hopped down, speech abandoned, with scattered jokes in the room around him.

“Henderson,” he snapped as a summons, then headed for the exit.

“What was that dude? You were just getting going.”

“No talking.” He spun, holding up a finger dramatically. “Come with me, I need your brain.”

“In a zombie way or in a Dustin is Always Smarter than Me way?”

That didn’t get an answer, and Eddie didn’t speak again until he got to storage room off the stage, flipping on the red gelled lights, and closing the door.

“Alriiiiight. Ed, this is getting super weird now. You planning on explaining why I don’t get to finish lunch? You gonna talk before I miss class? I know you don’t care, but I actually go to my classes, it makes it much easier to pass them you know?”

Unusually still, Eddie slumped against the wall, and fiddled with his rings.

“Do you think if Frodo knew what it was going to cost to destroy the ring -- Before it started and Gandalf showed up. Like. If Frodo knew that it was -- Or, no, wait, if Sam knew what was going to happen, do you think he could have stopped it? Everything that went wrong?”

“Uhhhh. What? This is why we’re here? To talk about Lord of the Rings?”

“Just do your thing, Dusty-buns. Be the smart kid in the room. If Sam knew what was coming, could he have made it better?”

“Okay, you gotta stop getting high during school, dude, but sure, I can indulge your random thought exercise for a minute. I think if Sam knew what was coming, he wouldn’t have let Frodo leave the Shire. No hobbits in the Fellowship at all.”

Eddie winced. “Yeah, probably true. Sam was the smart one. But say he didn’t... run away. Say he wasn’t a coward about it. Could he fix things if he knew about stuff, or would trying make it worse?”

“Eddie,” Dustin prodded suspiciously, “Did you actually read your homework about Oedipus and now you’re trying to make it about a book you like? Wait. Are you trying to make me do your homework for you?”

“Just answer it, you brat. If he could change things, does he go all out? Explain it to Gandalf from the beginning? Make sure they skip Moria? Does he wait until the last minute so things don’t do the butterfly thing and he has more control to help? Does he practice with a sword or fight the barrow wights or make Elrond send Glorfindel with them? What would he -- what should he do? If he knew what was coming.”

An eye roll. Christ, the attitude on this kid.

“Dude, you’re weird today. This is for the campaign, isn't it? Great. But you know I’m going to figure out your surprise early because of this, and it’s going to ruin it for me. So you owe me big time. I want to roll with advantage the entire session today.”

Dustin paused to think, but the response came fast enough that he must have thought about it before.

“Your question doesn't really matter. If Sam knew what was coming for some reason, before it all started, then he already changed everything. It doesn’t matter if he wants to be subtle. He already started the butterfly effect. Just knowing it’s coming would make it all different even if he didn’t mean to change things. Sam would trust Strider sooner. He’d try to keep them safe in the Barrow Downs. Or, I don’t know man, he’d pack extra waterskins to make it easier to get across Mordor and that would slow him down and get him killed before they left the Shire.

“Or the other option: it’s like Oedipus, and everything he does to save them ends up changing nothing. Fate and shit. But you asked about what he should do, dude, so. That’s an easy answer. He has to try. No choice. Either he can make things better or he can't. But he has to try. Spiderman and Uncle Ben, that’s the answer to this ridiculous scenario,” Dustin finished with a shrug.

“That was talking about having super powers.”

“Uncle Ben was talking about everything. With great power…”

“Comes great responsibility,” Eddie finished.

“And knowledge is power. No choice.”

“So Sam Gamgee should just yell fuck it, and go all out, huh?” Eddie muttered, flopping himself into a sprawl over a musty chair.

“You really gotta stop getting high in the bathroom during second period, man.”

The red gel over the lights was to stop spill during shows. One of the bulbs was dying, and making the glow flicker a bit. Not lightning, no switch to creepy blue-grey in between, no bats screeching or flecks of death lingering in the air. A reminder though. Enough of one.

Dustin glanced at the flicker, and the flinch Eddie would have ignored a week ago made sense now that Eddie knew what could follow. The exasperated look, and the bit of indulgence as he let Eddie have his dramatics made the memory -- Memory? Vision? Prophecy? -- of Dustin sobbing above him a sharper contrast.

“You done?” Dustin asked, “cause I’m still hungry.”

Standing up, cracking his knuckles against his jaw, Eddie snagged the kid into a tight hug. “Ah my good young adventurer,” he said as he pulled away to hold him by the shoulders, “We’re just getting started.”

Pretending to be normal and giving a performance made his skin crawl, so he went back to a serious expression.

“Okay dude, seriously, what is wrong with you today?”

Christ, Dustin was going to be insufferable when he found out that he was Eddie’s first choice when he had a life altering crisis over a shift in his understanding of the universe. That he was where he went for advice. And that Eddie followed his advice. He was going to be awful, and Eddie really hoped he'd be around to suffer through it.

“Go tell Hellfire that tonight’s session is canceled.”

“What!?”

“Then grab Robin and find out if Steve is at work today.”

“WHAT? You don’t even like--”

“Then get your radio, get the rest of the party, and definitely get Max. We’re all ditching out the rest of the day. Meet me at my van. Nancy can take some of you. I’ll get the rest.”

“...Eddie?” Dustin’s voice wobbled a bit that time. He was starting to put it together.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie confirmed on a loud exhale. “I’ve gotta go talk to a cheerleader and try not to get punched because of it. You gotta get the others.”

“Eddie,” the plea, the denial in his voice was fucking painful.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s Code Red.”

Part Two>>

On Ao3

#eddie munson #time travel fix it #at least this one'll stay a ficlet #flip the board

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hotluncheddie · 6 months

Text

there was mention of chubby eddie by @spectrum-spectre and i felt summoned. its my brand.

wc: 3.5k | rating: M, maybe E at the end | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie munson, fluff, pre & established relationship, mention of weight gain, some subby steve

ao3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

‘uh.. steve?’ comes eddie voice through the little bathroom door.

‘…yeah?’ steve’s instantly on edge. what could be so confusing about putting on jeans that eddie voice sounds like that.

unless. oh god, his stitches.

‘these are my jeans right?’ comes eddie voice again. and okay. there’s no pain that steve can hear. instead eddie sounds, baffled?

‘yeah ed’s, got them from the bunch of stuff wayne recovered.’ because he did. why would he give eddie someone else’s jeans?

eddie opens the door to the bathroom and. oh. ok yeah. steve gets it.

the jeans button and fly look like they have no hope of closing. not with eddies small, newly gained belly sitting between them. bandages still on in places, skin healing. with no shirt on steve can see that the eddie’s waistband is being pushed apart with the new softness at his waist and hips. that the softness has caused his pecs to curve slightly and the tops of his arms to sit out a little further than they used to, swallowing the lithe lines of muscle that used to be visible. eddie thighs have started to fill in the legs of his jeans, pushing up against the rips above his knees.

‘uh.’ steve says, unhelpfully. there’s really nothing going on in his head right now.

the only brain cell that seems to be firing on all cylinders is the one attached to his dick. embarrassingly.

‘i mean, this is good right?’ eddie asks, looking down at himself. splaying a tentative hand across the new upper curve of his stomach.

steve clears his throat, coughs, feels his cheeks heat up. ‘yeah, yeah man. your recovering. it’s like, totally understandable. and some uh, medications can, you know..’

‘make you fat?’ eddie asks. attempting to pull the flaps of his jeans together again, jumping a little for good measure. there’s no way it’s closing and the jumping makes eddie’s new belly jiggle a little.

‘fuck.’ steve’s mouth supplies, small and breathy, before his brain can catch up and stop him making a fool of himself.

eddie hears, head snapping up and smirk forming on his lips.

it’s happened before. eddie doing something and steve making a fool of himself, not quite sure how to handle all the feelings he’s been having about eddie. still too scared to ask if they’re reciprocated.

‘is it that noticeable?’ eddie ask, coyness fake and syrupy. he turns and looks over his shoulder so steve can see how the weight has also gone straight to his ass. it pulls at the seat and they don’t even cover him fully. waistband biting into where his underwear is visible, cheeks jutting out against it.

steve feels his mouth open and close dumbly. that one brain cell seems to have also gone offline. all he can process is the churning in his lower gut.

eddie twists a little further before stopping with a hiss. accidentally pulling at his still tender sides. steve snaps out of it. coming over and handing eddie the sweats he was wearing previously.

‘these’ll do for now. i’ll take you shopping once you’re up for it, get you back feeling like yourself again.’ steve smiles at him, knowing eddie’s hated not being able to dress like himself while he’s been in the hospital. it’s been gowns and sweatpants and oversized t-shirt only for, steve’s not even sure how long.

‘sweatpants are still totally metal though right?’ eddie bats his eyelashes and takes the sweats from steve, their fingers brushing.

‘yeah, to-totally metal.’ steve swallows, feeling himself blush again. he seems too every time he’s at the centre of eddie’s attention.

eddie smiles, bright and pretty. ‘good.’ he turns and slips back in the bathroom. steve busies himself with packing the last of eddie’s things, ready to take him back to where wayne’s been staying.

‘i guess it does make sense.’ eddie muses as he comes out of the bathroom fully dressed. ‘medication, months in bed, hospital food.’ he lists as he stuffs his old jeans back in his bag. ‘ugh and mrs henderson’s cookies, god, no way i’m giving those up. or her lasagne, fuck.’ eddie’s eyes roll back in his head at the thought, hand migrating back to that new curve in his gut.

‘ah, well then, i guess now is actually a good time to give you these.’ steve hands over the tupperware (hoping the slight shake in his hand isn’t noticeable) he’d planned on just leaving it behind quietly later, but. ‘she said it was a welcome home gift, and that’s there’s lasagne in the freezer.’

eddie makes grabby hands and rips the lid off. ‘oh fuck yeah.’ he plucks out a cookie and takes huge bite; cheeks rosey, smiling as he chews, eyes bright.

steve smiles back. thinks eddie looks perfect like this. alive. healthy and living and alive.

he blinks furiously. clearing his throat. ‘come on! let’s get you home.’ steve hauls eddies bags out the door and down to his car. eddie in tow.

they pull up to eddie and wayne’s new home, steve noticing the cookies are long gone.

‘uh.. steve?’ comes eddie voice through the little bathroom door of their apartment.

‘…yeah?’ steve asks, not looking up from his magazine.

‘these are my jeans right?’ comes eddie voice again, and.. huh?

‘yeah ed’s, why would you have someone else’s jeans?’ steve asks. baffled.

steve looks up from the couch once he hears the bathroom door open. and oh. okay yeah. steve get it.

‘deja fucking vu, babe.’ eddie grins. and yeah, his jeans definitely don’t fit.

he’s long recovered and steves long into confessing his feeling and getting the all too enthusiastic (if a little exasperated at the time it took) feelings reciprocation.

so now steve can say another choked out little ‘fuck’. but now with a lot more confidence.

and he can follow it up with stalking over to eddie and stinking down to his knees in front of him. hands coming up to cradle the soft curve of eddie’s underbelly. feeling his pupils blow at the soft weight of it, the way his face sinks in when he gives it a kiss.

because eddie’s recovery weight at fist plateaued and then steadily rose. over the course of them being together, cooking together, steve learning to bake from mrs h. eddie starting a job he loves over at the music store alongside teaching guitar lessons. steve having time to make him lunches in between shifts at the gym, where he works as a personal trainer and yoga instructor. where he can come home to his partner splayed out on the couch, smoked out and whining about the munchies and steve can make something for him. look after him like he always wants to. keen when eddie’s hand slips into his hair, saying thank you for the food with a sweet smile and kiss on his lips. and steve can curl up next to eddie, into his soft warmth, and think about nothing at all.

right now steve’s brains thinking about nothing but the belly before him. pushing the flaps of eddie’s jeans apart like that day in the hospital, but these jeans are a couple sizes bigger. still ripped at the knee and still mostly fitting around the thigh. eddie’s legs and hips never taking the brunt of his weight. that’s saved for his belly and arms. but it’s coming up to thanksgiving and steve’s being trying to perfect his pumpkin pie recipe. nothing much ever goes to waste in this house. and the evidence of that is in front of him now. pushing out agains the waistband and pulling at the seat (one of steves hands having migrated around to grope at eddies ass).

eddie huffs, sliding his ringed fingers into steve’s hair and tugging. ‘on your knees already baby?’ eddie looks down at steve over his gut and all steve can do is whine.

‘so needy.’ eddie tisks but steve sees the smile pulling at his lips, the love spilling from his eyes.

steve sits back on his heels, hands on his thighs, opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue.

‘fuck.’ eddie groans. hand coming up to splay over that upper curve of his stomach, a habit that’s really never gone away. other hand grabbing at his soft peck, knowing the sight sends steve wild.

‘please let me. you looks so good eddie, please.’ steve’s panting, opening his mouth again and letting his tongue loll back out. it’s slick with saliva and steve feels a drop splatter onto his bare thigh, the hem of his running shorts sitting up in his hip crease.

‘sorry baby, but i’ve gotta go out remember?’ eddie’s voice is full of teasing and condescension. eddie attempts to tug the flaps of his jeans back together again. jumping a little like those years ago. even lifting his belly with one hand and attempting to do up the button single-handedly with the other.

steve feels his cock leak.

‘ok, help me find jeans that fit and maybe i’ll give you something in return.’ eddie huffs once he’s finished his little display. smirking down at steve and the likely visible wet spot at the front of his shorts.

once the words filter through steve’s horny brain fog he scrambled up, running into the bedroom.

eddie laughs, delighted, and follows steve through.

#chubby eddie munson #my girl dinner #steddie #steve x eddie #weight gain fic #hotlunch #my fic #<3 #steddie wg

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louloulemons-posts · 7 months

Text

Oil At The Coffee Shop IX

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie tells Reader about the Upside Down, but she still thinks he’s beautiful.

Word Count : 2.5k

Warnings : Not proofread, angst, 18+, SMUT, talks of the upside down, eddies issues, vecna, smutty smut, choking, dom!eddie, oral (fem receiving), unprotect sex(for the love of god use protection), sadness then smut, this part is sad and horny 🫶🏻

A/N : This is my first time writing smut so apologies if it’s awful, also if you don’t want to read it, you are more than welcome to skip it 🤍

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You pushed open the door, letting yourself and Eddie in, flicking on the lamps dotted around. You hung your bag back up, dropped your keys, going to the couch so you could take your shoes off.

Eddie mimicked these actions, hanging his leather jacket up, and sitting down next to you. “Do you anything to drink before?” you asked him. “No, thank you though. I think I should just get it out of the way.”

“Okay.”

“And if it’s okay, could you just let me speak before you ask any questions, you can ask me anything after. Is that alright?”

“That’s fine, anything you need Eds,” you could tell he was uncomfortable, frightened even.

He sighed, unable to begin talking, you took his hand gently. “Take your time Eds, do what you need to do.” He nodded, offering a weak smiled.

“Just before the Summer of 86, something started. It started in my life anyways, it actually began in 83. Anyways, I was a troubled kid, was on my third try of my senior year, barely passing anything.

“I was um … selling drugs so me and Wayne could get by easier. Then one day this girl, a cheerleader, her name was Chrissy, she came up and asked to buy from me. Wanted really strong stuff.

“I didn’t keep it on me, it was at my home. The trailer. So after school we went there … I um …” he paused, taking a deep and shaky breath. You squeezed his hand, rubbing your thumb on the back of it.

“Take your time,” you said softly. He nodded, before taking another breath and continuing. “I went to my room to grab the stuff and when I came back, she, Chrissy I mean … she um … was in some sort of trance.

“I tried to wake her up. Her body was thrown against the ceiling. Something pulled her apart from the inside out. Every bone in her body was broken, her eyes were … I ran. I ran out. I left her there.

“Everyone thought it was me, so I hid.” He continued, explained how Dustin had found him, along with Steve, Robin and Max.

He told you about Vecna, about El. About the two other kids who were killed at the monsters hands, Fred Benson and Patrick McKinney.

He told you about the Upside Down. About the great final battle. Him playing guitar.

“I broke the rope, Dustin was stuck in this world and me in the Upside Down. I ran. I made as much noise as I could. The bats they um … they attacked me.

“Ripped me apart. It’s why I look … it’s why I look the way I do. Vecna was doing the same thing to Max that he did to Chrissy. She barely survived, but she’s a strong kid.

“If it wasn’t for El, neither of us would be here. She killed Vecna, saved Max. She was hurt, but she was alive. Steve, Robs and Nance came back, dragged me to the trailer.

“The doctors saved me. Well El did most of the work. Then … then Hopper came back, vouched for me. It got blamed on someone else, Jason Carver.

“Not everyone believes that. I’m still the town freak. People think that I summoned Satan to destroy the town. I didn’t. I was so scared. Then the earthquakes, the landslides, I was just hoping Wayne made it out.

“I didn’t care if he hated me, I just needed him alive. He’s all I got.”

“All you had,” you corrected, “You’ve got me now.”

“I do? You believe me? You don’t hate me?”

“Yes, yes and no.”

“I was so scared that you’d never want to see me again.”

“I believe you. I’m sorry that all happened to you Eds and I’m sorry people still judge you for it.”

You could now recall the times people looked at him funny, or stopped talking when he entered the room, or when they crossed the road to avoid him.

“I um … I’ll let El and Max tell you their stories, it’s not for me to say anymore. I still don’t really understand myself.”

“Thank you for telling me. You did so well.”

“I-I’m sorry that I had to tell you, but you needed to know. I couldn’t have you see me and not know what happened. That’s if you still want to see me?”

“Eddie you might not think it, but you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I want to see you, I want to see all of you if you’ll let me. No matter what you’ll be beautiful to me.”

He pressed his mouth to yours, face damp after what he’d just told you. “We don’t have to do anything, but if you want to stay you can.”

“I’d like the company if that’s okay?” he says, almost shyly.

“That’s more than okay. Hey I’ve got Cherry turnovers downstairs, let’s go get some.”

“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?” he asked.

“Shop opens at 9, but the girls get here at 8. I have to finish up stuff so I’ll be up around 6:30.”

He hummed, nodding. “Okay, well I have to get to work too.”

“Okay, now come on. Let’s go get treats.”

He laughed, as you pulled him with you.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You headed into the kitchen and opened up a box full of the turnovers, handing one to Eddie and taking one off yourself. Both of you stood close together, chomping at the delicious pastry.

You smiled at Eddie before you eyes caught something else, “Oh my god,” you said.

“Hm? What?” he asked.

“That’s why you freaked out about the cake! Oh Eddie I’m so sorry!” you said, remembering the small fondant creatures.

“Hey, it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. I was just having a rough day with it. Was dealing with my feelings about you too.”

“Oh yeah? How long have you had these feelings?”

“A while.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more than that Munson.”

“No way!”

“Mean,” you pouted.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you smiled.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Mean,” you spoke, voice almost a whisper.

“Am I? Am I mean?” he asked.

“I-I …”

“Come on, what happened to the mouthy girl here a few minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He kissed your forehead, “It’s sadly too late for that. I’ll show you how mean I can be.” He attacked your lips, holding you close to him. His lips traveled down to your neck, kissing and biting, just like how you’d been doing to him, hours before.

“E-Eddie we can’t h-here,” you stuttered, breathless at the feeling of his lips on your neck. “It’s n-not hygienic.”

“Not hygienic,” he laughed into your neck, “Okay then Sweetheart, jump for me.”

You did as he asked, he caught your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. “Would your bed be more hygienic?” he asked.

“That does sound better.”

“Okay baby, whatever you want,” he said, stealing a kiss.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

As soon as you made it into the apartment, Eddie was in your room. Dropping you on the bed gently. Leaning up on your elbows you smiled at him. “God Sweetheart you’re so fucking beautiful,” he spoke, climbing onto the bed and between your legs.

Mouths on one another, tongues fighting, but somehow in sync with one another. Hands grabbing anything they could. “Can I take this off?” Eddie asked, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You nodded. “Use your words Sweetheart.”

“Yes.” Sliding off your cardigan first, you raised your arms above your head, letting him pull the shirt from your body.

Sat back on his knees, Eddies eyes were filled with lust. You were the most stunning person he’d ever seen. He began kissing down your chest, leaving marks along the top of your breasts.

“Can I?” he asked, dragging his fingers up to the back of your bra. “Yes,” you say, breathless. Undoing it, the bra was thrown somewhere in the room - frankly you couldn’t care less where it had landed.

“Fuck baby,” he said, taking your breasts in his hands, squeezing them lightly. You moaned out at the feeling. Leaning down, he placed his latched his mouth to one of your nipples. Sucking on it, twirling his tongue around.

“E-Eddie, oh fuck baby,” you cried out as he bit down lightly. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling on it, he nipped more. “God I feel like I’m neglecting the other, better fix that. Right Sweetheart?”

You hummed in agreement, making Eddie cock his brow. “Y-yeah better fix i-” You didn’t get chance to finish as Eddie already began his attack.

You hips bucked up into him, making him grind down his own. Feeling his bulge grow in his jeans, your hands wandered down, squeezing him through the denim.

With a pop, he let go of your nipple. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “I need you, please I need you,” you almost begged.

“I told you, I’ll give you anything you want. But you called me mean, so maybe I should make you work for it?” You eyes widened, you’d love to take him in your mouth, god he’d feel so good down your throat.

“Oh no, I’ll give you everything. You want me to make you work. Well no can do. You’ll take what I give you.” He began to unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs.

There you were, in only panties whilst he was fully clothed. He reached for the edge of his shirt, but hesitated. “It’s okay,” you said, sitting up to kiss his mouth.

Slowly you lifted his shirt up and off of him, there were scars and bite marks everywhere. You could see the doctors had done what they could, but the wounds were deep, ragged.

“You’re beautiful,” you spoke, kissing his chest, right above his heart. “So fucking beautiful Eds.” Your mouths connected again as Eddie climbed out of his jeans, pushing you down on the bed.

Lay in between your legs, his fingers trailed up your thighs. Biting, licking, sucking at your neck, his fingers found their way underneath your panties.

“God you’re so wet, all for me baby?”

“A-all for you.” You moaned when he brushed your clit, he smirked at that, rubbing again. “I bet I could just slide my fingers right in, better take the rings off.”

He went to move his hand, but you stopped him. “Please baby I need you,” you spoke, begging him. “What a dirty girl.” His fingers slid into you, making you cry out, the cold metal stretching you.

“F-fuck Eddie.”

“Already such a mess, better clean up,” he spoke, more to himself than anyone. Making his way down your body, he kissed everywhere he could.

Placing a gentle peck to each thigh, he let his tongue lick your slit. “Fuck!” you screamed, hands tangling in his hair. His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking on it, as his fingers curled upwards hitting that spot over and over.

“F-fu-Fuck .. E-Ed .. oh my god,” you babbled. “Does it feel so good?”

“Mhm,” you moaned.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, it feel so fucking g-good,” his fingers hit the spot again. “Who’s making you feel so good?”

“You!”

“Who’s that?” You could feel his smirk on you thighs, mouth licking you again. “You Eddie fuck. I’m gonna c-cum, fuck Eddie I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah baby, give it to me. Cum for me, come on Sweetheart, cum.” You let out a cry of pleasure, clenching around Eddies fingers as you came. Legs shaking, he pressed soft kisses to your clit. Moving his fingers until your fingers weren’t so tight in his hair.

“Shit Sweetheart,” he laughed. You lay there trying to catch your breath. “You good?” he asked. You hummed, “Yeah.”

“Think you can take more?”

“Please,” you said, meeting his eyes.

“Do you uh … do you have a condom?”

“N-no, but I’m on birth control and I’m clean and I .. I trust you Eddie.”

He smiled softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. He slowly slid your panties down, his boxers following soon after. Fuck. You knew he’d be big, but fuck. He was thick and long and … well shit.

“Can you open up for me Sweetheart?” you legs spread for him, allowing him to line himself up. Slowly he slid into you. “F-fuck,” you moaned, he stretched you out so much. It felt so good.

“God baby you feel so good,” he moaned into your neck. Soon enough he was in you, bottoming out. “Can I move?”

“Please!” you cried out.

He did so, starting slowly, then building up a nice pace, nice and deep. You were squeezing around him. He smirked, taking hold of one of your legs, resting it over his shoulder.

Moving again, he was so deep, you could see him in your tummy. Each time, hitting that spot, making your body shake with pleasure. “Eddie oh my god,” you cried.

“I know, it just feels so good doesn’t it, fucking you so nice and deep,” his hips slammed into yours roughly, again and again, making you loose your voice.

You mouth was wide open and no sound was able to come out, eyes in the back of your head as he fucked you hard. His hand slid up to neck, squeezing softly. Rings cool, but sticky as they sat there.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum soon, your pussy’s gripping me so good,” Eddie moaned. “Cum-cum in me p-please,” you begged, voice weak as his hand squeezed.

“Yeah you want all my cum?”

“P-please,” you said nodding, crying out again, “I-I’m gonna cum again baby f-fuck!”

“Cum all over my cock, come on Sweetheart, squeeze that dick.”

You did just that, body shaking, a loud moan leaving your body as you came, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Eddie groaned, thrusting his hips a few more times, “Fuck Sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck fu-“ hot ropes of cum filled you up.

The curly haired man dropped into your shoulder. Both of you breathing heavily. He kissed your shoulder, and neck where his hand had been. “You okay Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay, are you?”

“I’m more than okay.”

He pulled out as gently as he could, making you whine. Climbing up from the bed, you reached out for him, “I’m coming, just getting a washcloth hang on.”

You closed your eyes, listening to the faucet run for a few moments. Footsteps came closer and soon enough a warm washcloth was being rubbed gently on your lower body.

“All clean baby,” he said, kissing your stomach. He slid his boxers back on and helped you into his t-shirt. Pulling you into him, you listened to his heart beat.

“I don’t think you’re mean,” you spoke up, which made him laugh. “Oh I know, but I wasn’t lying when I said, I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

“Kiss me?”

He chuckled, pressing his mouth against yours softly. “I adore you,” he said, making your face flush. “Now Sweetheart, let’s get some rest, we’ve gotta be up early.”

“Okay. Goodnight Eds.”

“Goodnight Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : uhhhh so i may have got a little carried away 👀

Thank you so much for reading 🤍

taglist : @corrodedseraphine @flawiette @witchwolflea @emxxblog @plk-18 @vintagehellfire @lma1986 @squidscottjeans @eddiesguitarskills @nanas-lasagna @halialex1119

let me know if you want to be added 🤍

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humanityinahandbag · 1 year

Text

Steddie Accidental Marriage

AKA: Eddie and Steve have been together for twenty plus years and married for one.

No one told Eddie.

A brief one shot about Eddie being in love and also an idiot.

Eddie quickly becomes an expert at nodding.

More specifically, he becomes an expert at nodding to whatever Steve Harrington is saying, and as long as Steve Harrington's eyes stay fixed on his, he knows he'll probably keep nodding until his head tips off his neck and rolls away.

See, 1986 hadn't gone the way anyone could have predicted. The monsters, the portals, the child who could probably summon a giant marshmallow man if she tried hard enough. But the most startling development (besides coming out on the other side, scarred and shaken and very much alive) was Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington, who was kind, sweet, and all too thoughtful. Who protected people with everything he had and pressed his heart into other people's hands without asking for it back.

And that sucks, honestly. Because he could still remember being invited to parties for drug deals and sneered at in the hallways, shoved into lockers by the group of hair-sprayed goons while Steve had watched like some all-seeing vassal.

It didn't help that Eddie had been in love with the guy since before popularity graced him with its unwelcome presence.

And now that he's kind, sweet, generous, thoughtful?

Well. He was doomed when he held that bottle to Steve's throat.

So yeah. Eddie is deliriously in love. He's not sure when it will end, but he knows it will end eventually. He'll slip up and Steve will realize he's gay and punch his lights out, or he'll find better, less frustrating friends and leave Eddie and the rest of them in the dust. But until then? He needs to take every moment he has.

And so he nods.

He nods when Steve Harrington asks if he'd like to attend pool parties with the kids. He nods when Steve Harrington asks if he wants to hang out alone and see a movie. He nods when Steve Harrington picks him up from physical therapy.

He even nods when Steve Harrington leans over and asks I'm not imagining things, right? You're, like... into me?

Steve beams. "Awesome," he says, and leans forward to press warm, full lips against his.

It will end soon, Eddie tells himself as Steve's hand presses into his hair and lips leave little dappling pocks along his jaw. So he'll take what he can.

A year passes, and Eddie is still waiting for everything to quietly shatter.

Which makes it all the more frustrating when it doesn't.

Steve is over at their new (government hush-moneyed) apartment almost every day. It's not unusual to see him puttering about, folding blankets or hovering above the stove. Their little home smells less and less like microwaved meals and more like whatever Steve has tried to cook up that day.

Wayne is delighted. "Finally got someone to talk about important stuff with," he crows one night after dinner, sitting in the recliner with a beer while Steve takes the couch besides Eddie. Their fingers link, bodies pressed tight alongside the other. If Wayne notices, he doesn't say anything.

"My stuff's important," Eddie mutters.

Steve just laughs, stealing the beer from his hand to take a swig before pressing a fond kiss to his cheek. "Sports trump everything, Eds," he says, and then goes back to discussing the game playing on the little TV with Wayne.

His thumb rubs back and forth against Eddie's hand the whole time.

Eddie holds tight.

Steve Harrington's phase to figure out himself lasts longer than Eddie would have expected. Long enough for Steve to drag him into bed, confident and shy all at once before taking Eddie apart slowly before putting him back together one little piece at a time.

When Eddie lets the I love you slip out, he waits for everything to crash around him.

Instead, Steve whispers something that sounds suspiciously like I love you into the seam of his shoulder.

Eddie holds even tighter and wills the moment to last forever.

Another year passes. Steve applies for community college and celebrates with Eddie and Wayne and Robin when he's accepted to the social work track. There's talk about moving closer to Indiana so the commute isn't as long. Robin already has an apartment with Nancy there while they work out plans for Boston that Steve has become more and more invested in.

Housing becomes more difficult to come by as prices rocket upwards. Which is absolutely, definitely, positively, one-thousand-percent why Steve turns to Eddie and says, "We'll find something that works for the both of us," and then proceeds to show up at Eddie's work in the little garage on Maple Street with a clipped advertisement for an apartment.

"I visited it today," he says, giddily drumming on the wheel as they drive through the main slot of road and past Loch Nora. "Just wait. It's got great lighting. And the landlord says that she'll let us get a pet if we want one!"

"That's... that's great," says Eddie.

It is a great apartment. Large windows. High ceilings.

"Which bedroom would you want?" he asks Steve, who's busy opening and closing every door to see how it latches.

"Whichever one you choose," says Steve, like that sentence alone hasn't rocked Eddie to his very core and shaken his heart loose.

Eddie nods mutely which seems to at least get a positive reaction out of Steve. "Oh! And I had this great idea. We could totally turn the other bedroom into a studio for you. How cool would that be!" He went on to describe the pullout couch they could put in the center of the living room. How they could host the kids, his Uncle, Robin, whoever else wanted to drop by.

Eddie could only nod along.

And he'd keep nodding as the furniture was moved in, and Jonathan and Wayne and Steve argued over the little bolts and screws while they put together the bed frame in the master bedroom. He'd keep nodding as the walls in that room were painted a lovely, dusted blue and two bedside tables were added to either end.

They didn't argue over sides. They didn't have to. Eddie naturally fell to the right, Steve to the left. Shared books filled the shelves along with sports trophies and twenty sided dice.

He didn't stop nodding when it was their first night there and Steve climbed into bed alongside him, exhausted and clingy, and pressed himself to Eddie's back whispering fantasies about how their life would play out.

And play out their life does.

They move to Boston. Eddie finds a new band. Steve begins working for Boston General Hospital in their pediatric wing where he holds kids hands and talks them through what scares them before surgeries. Sometimes, he brings Eddie along. The kids always shriek and laugh and ask to touch his guitar, and Steve watches Eddie with a kind of Love that could spin the world off its course when he plucks the first notes of a favorite Tears for Fears song.

Robin and Nancy live just next door, because Steve and Robin have separation anxiety and Nancy declared herself and Eddie to be best friends that couldn't live without the other.

There are great moments. And terrible ones. Sometimes there are fights and slammed doors and Eddie always waits for the other shoe to come crashing down, and yet it never does. He and Steve always find one another again.

Which is... odd.

Mostly because he's never heard of any other friends-with-benefits case working quite like theirs.

He brings it up once with Gareth on a weekly phone call.

"I don't get it," he says. "I mean... you'd think the guy could find himself someone to spend his life with. He's just... he's so great. He's just perfect."

There was silence on the other end. And then;

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

Eddie spluttered and hung up. He didn't bring it up again after their next call.

The 1990's come and go. The year 2000 is celebrated with a kind of raucous glee followed by '01, '02, '03. Steve becomes head of the social work department. Eddie has stopped touring and is instead teaching music in an elementary school, where he plays music to children who hang off his knees and scream about wheels on school busses. They're happy in ways he couldn't have dreamed they'd ever be.

2004 arrives with the purchase of their first house, an occasion marked with Steve dragging Eddie from room to room, christening each one with an attention that borders on religious.

Eddie blames it on homeowner stamina and has to wonder why buying a house with your "booty call" (as the teens are now calling it) is something worth celebrating.

Though he supposes it makes said booty call more accessible, and makes it a little easier to struggle through the intense love and adoration that fill his chest at all times.

He's never believed in a God, but if he did, he'd probably ask what he did in a former life to deserve this. Even if he can't have Steve, he can still have him in any way that Steve is willing to give.

Which is why, ten years later and still somehow living out his dream, Eddie is left so completely and totally confused when all of his friends and family plan to swarm Boston to celebrate... something.

He's not really sure what they're celebrating.

But they're definitely celebrating something.

It's when he finds paperwork during an attic cleanout that he finally realizes it.

They bought their house ten years ago.

That must have been it!

Ten years of being homeowners come and gone.

This is made even clearer when Steve looks over his shoulder, curses, and says, "I forgot all about that."

"Me too."

"We should probably think of remortgaging soon." Steve tousled his hair with a sigh. "Not like it'll be any fun, but..."

"Look at you," says Eddie, hating how sour Steve's pretty face had become. He leaned over and pressed a kiss by Steve's ear, pleased to see him perk up. "Being an adult and everything."

"I can say the same for you."

"Don't you dare," says Eddie with a laugh.

And yeah, sure, maybe that didn't seem like much of an achievement, but Eddie was happy to give what he could. And so when Wayne arrived at the airport and practically broke down in tears, tugging Eddie into a hug to let him know how proud and happy he was for his boy, Eddie could only just smile and nod.

If his Uncle wanted to cry about Eddie repainting some plaster and tending to a garden and making consistent mortgage payments, who was he to stop him?

"Can you even believe it?" his Uncle asked in the car ride back to their home.

Eddie laughed. "I mean, I don't think it's that big of a deal."

"You just can't see it for what it is cause you've been doin' it for so long."

Which was a fair point. He had been a homeowner for a while now.

"I guess," he agreed, and Wayne smiled and pat his shoulder and asked him all about his job. He tells Wayne all about a group of six year olds who've all learned about becoming tea pots (short and stout).

Two days later (much to Eddie's consistent shock and confusion), Steve dresses in his best suit and helps Eddie knot a tie covered in tiny skulls and drags them both to town hall. They wait in a line on the third floor, Eddie looking around a little dazed and unsure, until they're finally let into an office and Steve (through tears) signs his name on a line before turning to Eddie and clasping their hands tight together.

"Eds," Steve says. "You gotta sign it too."

And Eddie, who has been nodding since 1986, can only nod again and reach for the pen.

He's not entirely sure why everyone arrived to celebrate them renewing their mortgage. He didn't even know City Hall made a huge fuss over the financial gains of two middle aged men in middle America. But his friends and family are waiting in the lobby. They're all crying, even though he's not really sure why, but that just triggers him into crying. Even more when the kids (though they're not so much kids any more) clump around them with hugs and tears and shouts about how excited and proud they are.

"It's about time," Dustin sobs.

"I mean, I guess," says Eddie, wondering why Steve hasn't let go of his hand yet.

But he's not going to let go.

He doesn't find out until one year later when Steve surprises him with a trip to Hawkins. They meet Uncle Wayne first thing before going off to explore their old haunts, flipping their middle fingers out the window at the high school, stopping off at one of their favorite old diners that still served what Steve considered to be the most okay chocolate milkshakes in the entire world.

Their waitress was a lovely older woman named Dotty who looked moments away from pinching Steve's cheeks when she collected their menus.

"What are you folks here for?" she asked. "Haven't seen you around here!"

"We used to live here," said Eddie. "We moved away."

"And we're celebrating," countered Steve.

Eddie blinked, considering the date before he remembered. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod.

"Oh, how lovely!" Dotty clasped her hands around the sticky diner menus. "What's the occasion."

And before Steve could get in a word, Eddie apparently decided to leap headfirst off idiocy mountain and say, "we refinanced our mortgage."

There was silence.

"Oh..." said Dotty, finally. "Well. That's... nice?"

Across the table, Steve stared at him.

Eddie couldn't shake the feeling that he'd said something wrong. "Um." He reached for a napkin, tearing and twisting it between his hands. "Yeah. Totally. It was a, uh. A big deal."

"Was it...?"

"Mmmhm," he squeaked, trying hard not to look at the way Steve was gaping at him. "We've, uh... we've been roommates for a while, so."

Steve looked moments away from sliding off the booth and into the earth's core.

It wasn't until Dotty left (a little confused and befuddled) that Steve sprung up, grabbing Eddie by the arm, marching them both into the parking lot.

"Refinancing our mortgage!" Steve stomped little circles around the concrete. A family walking by crossed to the other side of the street. "We're refinancing our mortgage!"

"Steve, you're uh. You're scaring people..."

"You're scaring me!" Steve tossed his hands into the air.

"Right. Uh... I got that? But... why? Am I scaring you?"

"Because you said we're roommates!"

"But. We are roommates?"

"We-!" Steve froze, mid panic.

Eddie, taking a chance, snuck forward and gave him a little poke. "Uh. Steve? You rebooting?"

Steve blinked. He reached up and scrubbed his face. He looked back up at Eddie before squeezing his eyes shut and counting back from ten. When he opened them again, Eddie was amazed to find there wasn't a blue screen behind Steve's eyes.

"Eddie," Steve said. "You honestly think I took you to city call to refinance our mortgage?"

"They're important documents," Eddie said.

"And that we've been roommates for over twenty years?"

"We're very good roommates," said Eddie, weakly.

Steve's eye twitched. "Roommates don't have sex, Eddie! They don't tell each other they love each other! They don't get married!"

"I never said we were traditional roommates! I just said-" And then Eddie stopped, Steve's words finally striking ground. "Wait..."

"Yeah."

"Wait."

"Mmmhm."

"Wait!"

Steve waved his hands. "Now he gets i- mph!"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Eddie dragging him quick into a kiss.

Dottie arrived back at their table just as Steve and Eddie slipped back into the booth, looking a little mussed and tossed about, lips red and eyes shining.

"Still celebrating that mortgage?"

"Actually," said Eddie, "it turns out, we're married!"

"Isn't that nice."

"It is," agreed Eddie, accepting his hamburger and shake. "Did you know I've been in love with him since high school?"

"How sweet! And how long have you been married?"

"A year!" Eddie preened.

Steve accepted his own burger. "He just found out," he said.

Dotty wasn't sure what that meant, but the two of them looked happy enough. Who was she to question a good marriage?

Published, edited, and slightly longer story found here!

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #steddie oneshot

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collinrobinsonsglasses · 3 months

Note

I have two words for you: jealous Izzy

Maybe reader is simply very close to someone on the ship and Izzy thinks they are dating, or reader's ex shows up and Izzy (since his only other time he was in love, that we know of, it was the unrequired disaster with Ed) figures reader will leave him and the crew for this twat and he keeps being a grumpy ass

These are just vague ideas, honestly there is so little Izzy/reader that I am happy with whatever I can get

⁽ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶦᶠ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ʷʳᶦᵗᵗᵉⁿ, ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵗᶦᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏᵉʳ⁾

This request was written super well, and I loved the idea. <3

Izzy Hands X Reader (GN)

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Masterlist

Your gaze lingered on the shoreline, soaking in the familiar sights, as The Revenge sailed closer to the place you once called home. It had been years since you last set foot on the shore where you grew up. Though you no longer had family there, the nostalgia stirred excitement within you. As you mentally compiled a list of your favorite places to share with the crew during shore leave, a flicker of movement caught your eye. Across the deck, Izzy’s gaze found yours, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. With a nervous smile, you returned his gaze. There was an unexplainable anticipation to reveal the place you once called home to Izzy, a desire for him to truly understand you, even though nothing romantic had ever happened between you.

The longing to be closer to Izzy was a secret you had only shared one drunken night with Olu, Jim, and Archie. After a few too many swigs of rum, you let your desire slip, expecting ridicule or disbelief. Jim’s immediate reaction was to dismiss the idea as pure idiocy, while Archie, always one to revel in chaos, egged you on, perhaps sensing the potential for drama. Yet, it was Olu who offered the most genuine support, his caring nature shining through in that moment, as it always did. All three of your friends showed their support in distinct ways, each with your best interests at heart.

You made your way towards Izzy, who stood at the edge of the ship, his gaze fixed on the tiny town ahead. His grip on the boat’s railing was steady, his expression unreadable as always. As you approached him and settled beside him, you couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts occupied his mind. With an awkward smile, you greeted him, resting your arms against the rail, trying to summon the courage to start a conversation.

“Hey, Izzy,” you began, lightly tapping the wood beneath your fingers. “The crew’s planning to hit a bar tonight. You should come with us.”

“The whole crew?” You observed as Izzy’s expression tightened, you assumed he was envisioning the lively chaos that usually came with spending an evening with Stede Bonnet’s crew.

“I think even Stede and Ed are coming,” you added, unsure whether this news would be received positively or negatively by Izzy.

“Someone has to stay with the ship.” he remarked, you observed as Izzy turned abruptly, leaving you behind, though not without a moment of hesitation. He pivoted back to face you, his expression hinting at an unspoken urgency. “Thank you for inviting me.�� he grumbled, before taking off once more. You stared off into his direction, feeling defeated, you could feel your shoulders slink down.

“Eso fue embarazoso” Jim whispered, wrapping their arm around you teasingly.

“Vete a la mierde” you retorted playfully, but as you rested your forehead on the side of the ship, a sense of embarrassment washed over you.

“It’s him that’s embarrassing, not you,” Jim reassured with an eye roll, yanking your arm gently to lead you towards the main deck where more members of the crew were waiting to go ashore.

The night took a turn for the better once the familiar sights of home surrounded you, leaving your interaction with Izzy a distant memory back on the boat. Your favorite bar looked exactly as you remembered, with its simple decor and the same cheap rum. Halfway through the night, your gaze caught a familiar face across the crowded bar - your childhood sweetheart, Samuel. He seemed almost surreal as memories from the past flooded your mind, but the love you once felt for him now felt like a distant echo of someone you used to be. It was still a comforting sight to see his face, and the remainder of the night, he stayed by your side, engaging with the crew.

He bought everyone drinks, eagerly listened to Stede’s tales of piracy, and repeatedly expressed his joy at seeing you again throughout the night. His presence brought a sense of relief, making home truly feel like home. Seeing him transported you back to your younger days when everything seemed simpler. You and Sam had been so young when you were together, and although relationships like that often don’t last, your parting had been amicable. You were both heading in different directions - the sea calling you while Sam seemed content to stay rooted at home.

In the end, it had been a successful night. Despite Izzy’s rejection weighing heavily on your mind, Sam’s presence provided a temporary distraction. The lively atmosphere of the bar, coupled with the antics of the rest of the crew, kept you on your toes. Sam left with a promise to find you the next night, and the crew set off back to the ship, the night’s events lingering in the air as they made their way home. As you walked back to the ship, Jim’s arm slipped around you, while they gave you a knowing gaze.

“No,” you interjected, feeling the weight of their unspoken question.

“I didn’t say anything.” Jim’s arm still draped comfortingly over your shoulder.

Archie caught up on your other side. “I like him,” she stated simply, lightly punching your arm.

“Leave it, you two,” Olu laughed from behind.

“It was good to see him,” you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But we’re only here for a couple days.”

You and the crew returned to the ship, your arm linked with Olu’s as you strolled along, pointing out different buildings and sharing stories from your childhood. Though a part of you wondered what Izzy had been up to tonight, being with the crew always lifted your spirits.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Izzy had spent the entire night pacing the ship, consumed by curiosity about what the crew was up to ashore, yet lacking the courage to join them. He cursed himself for being such a fucking coward, especially when it came to you. After everything that had happened with Edward, he had vowed to guard his heart against developing feelings for anyone, if he could help it. But slowly, without him realizing, you had managed to sneak your way into his heart, leaving him uncertain of what to do next. He had never been good at this kind of thing.

You had extended the invitation to spend time together, even if the entire crew would be there. Izzy regretted his hesitation and that he declined your offer. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that you were only including him out of kindness. He didn’t particularly enjoy big group gatherings, rowdy drinking, or any of the activities that typically accompanied shore leave. For him, it was much simpler to focus on getting a job done. Even still, he felt like he had made a mistake.

The next morning, Izzy found himself in the captain’s quarters, attempting to gather information about the day’s plans while absentmindedly running his finger through the flame of one of Stede’s candles. Stede calmly sipped on a cup of tea, nibbling on his breakfast, while Edward sat beside him, his fingers lightly tracing over Stede’s.

“You missed a fun night out, Iz,” Edward remarked with a smile, his fingers now intertwined with Stede’s. “You should come tonight.”

“Samuel was lovely. Wasn’t he, Ed?” Stede replied, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah. He was,” Edward answered plainly, a small smile directed at Stede, though Izzy noticed the nervous glance Edward shot in his direction.

“Who the fuck is Samuel?” Izzy huffed, curious about Edward’s strange reaction.

As Stede explained that Samuel was your childhood sweetheart, Izzy’s lips tightened into a thin line, feeling a surge of heat rising from his chest. He sensed Edward’s eyes fixed on him and watched as Edward squeezed Stede’s hand, attempting to swiftly change the subject. Part of Izzy was thankful he wasn’t there, because the mere thought of you with someone else made his blood boil, yet having to imagine it was equally unpleasant.

“Like I said,” Edward whispered after Stede had finished, giving Izzy an encouraging glance, “you should come tonight, Iz.”

“Fine,” Izzy grumbled.

As the crew walked through the city, Izzy found himself reluctantly trailing towards the back of the group, keeping a watchful eye on you as you walked alongside Olu. Your gaze met his when you glanced back, offering a warm smile and a pat on Olu’s arm before halting in your tracks. You waited until Izzy caught up, falling into step beside him.

“I’m glad you’re coming tonight, Iz.”

Izzy felt your fingers lightly squeeze his arm. Despite trying to maintain a stoic position, Izzy felt his heart swell at your touch.

Izzy felt a small smile spread across his face. “Me too,” he replied nervously. Walking beside you, and feeling your small touch, had already made coming out tonight worth it.

At the table in the bar, you stayed by his side, engaging in conversation with him, Ed, and Stede. As the night progressed, Izzy found himself pleasantly surprised by how at ease he felt in your company. Your laughter was infectious, and the warmth in your eyes made him forget about his earlier hesitations. With each passing moment, Izzy found himself opening up, letting down the walls he had built around himself. His expression shifted abruptly as the crew began calling out Samuel’s name. A tightness crept into his features, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the sight of the unwelcome presence.

Izzy’s glare intensified as Samuel glided over and smoothly positioned himself next to you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders and drawing you closer. Izzy scrutinized your expression, noting the awkward smile that appeared on your lips.

“Samuel, this is Israel Hands, the first mate,” you gently introduced, directing your gaze towards Izzy.

Samuel extended his hand for a handshake, but Izzy only grunted in response, his body tensing with a mixture of annoyance and rage. Izzy quickly stood up, retreating to the bar and leaving the crew behind.

After a few minutes, Izzy felt someone join him and looked over to see you peering curiously at him.

“You okay, Iz?” you whispered.

“Fuck off.”

Izzy turned, leaning on the bar, to face the table and his crew. After glaring at Samuel for a moment, he noticed you were still standing there next to him.

“He seems like a twat,” Izzy hissed towards you.

He saw a small frown beginning to form on your face, but he felt his anger fueling him.

“You could give him a chance at least,” you said quietly.

Izzy only replied with a snort.

“He’s a good man. He cares about me” Izzy heard the anger beginning to rise in your voice. “He asked me to stay here with him.”

“Maybe you should,” Izzy shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, but inside, he was consumed by panic. The mere thought of losing you from the ship fueled his hatred towards Samuel even more.

“You think I should stay here?” you asked, your tone tinged with uncertainty.

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Izzy hissed back.

Izzy watched with a sinking feeling as tears seemed to form in your eyes, and you quickly turned away from him, heading back to the table. Instant regret flooded through him as he watched you from afar. He had pushed you away again, right into the arms of some twat named Samuel.

Izzy noticed Jim glaring at him from across the room, a clear indication of disapproval on their face. Before long, Ed joined Izzy by his side, patting his shoulder in a gesture of support.

“Hey, Iz,” Ed whispered, his expression clouded with concern. When Izzy made no move to speak, Edward persisted. “You’ve got to tell them how you feel. Talk it through. Stop being a dick.”

Izzy left the bar as quickly as he could, but Edward’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind. The mere thought of you leaving, staying here with another man, and no longer being on The Revenge made him feel sick to his stomach. When he finally reached the ship, he paced back and forth on the deck, his mind consumed by imaginary conversations with you. He desperately searched for something he could say to make you stay.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Tonight, as you walked back to the ship with the group, you remained silent, keeping to yourself instead of engaging in conversation with the group. You had made a decision earlier, telling Samuel that you were leaving with The Revenge. He had been understanding, as always, making goodbye feel harder. You had never entertained the idea of staying behind, not when you had finally found a new family on your ship. The truth was, you had only mentioned it to Izzy to gauge his reaction, to see if he cared enough to ask you to stay. But it was painfully obvious that he didn’t.

As you and the crew boarded the ship, you felt a soft grasp around your arm, gently leading you to the back of the ship. Turning, you saw that the grasp belonged to Izzy. Curiosity piqued, you followed him silently as he led you away from the group. Once you reached your destination, you and Izzy stared at each other for a moment, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Izzy appeared lost, unsure of what to say next. As the moment stretched into a long silence, you opened your mouth, intending to break the tension, but before you could speak, Izzy quickly began to talk.

“Don’t leave,” Izzy’s words pierced the silence, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“Don’t leave. I know I don’t have any right to ask you to stay, but don’t stay with that fucking twat.” Izzy’s gaze bore into yours, his eyes filled with intensity, almost pleading with you to reconsider.

“Why?” you whispered.

“Samuel might care about you, but there are people here who care about you more.” Izzy whispered back, his voice vulnerable as he nervously tugged at the ring around his neck.

“Like who?” The anticipation built within you, as you silently hoped he would say himself.

“Olu, Jim, Archie… the whole crew,” Izzy grumbled, his eyes shifting nervously towards the floor.

“Do you care about me more?” you asked sweetly, hoping to coax Izzy into meeting your eyes. “Because I care about you.”

At your words, Izzy’s gaze quickly met yours, a flicker of emotion dancing in his eyes. Then, slowly but steadily, Izzy’s features softened, his guard melting away as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. “I care about you more than that twat,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“I’m not leaving, Iz,” you smiled warmly towards him, relief flooding through you. “I don’t know what I would do without the crew, without you.”

You and Izzy gazed at each other for a moment, the warmth of his touch lingering on your cheeks. Suddenly, a smirk flashed across your face as you finally understood what had been weighing on Izzy’s mind.

“You were jealous,” you teased, a knowing smile dancing on your lips.

“Fuck off,” Izzy replied, but you could see a smile stretching across his face, his attempt to maintain a stern facade failing.

“You like me,” you whispered, your eyes tracing his lips with a playful glint.

Izzy interrupted your playful banter with his lips, silencing your teasing words with a kiss filled with longing and desire. His lips were soft yet demanding against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“Wooo,” you heard Archie’s voice echo across the deck. “About time.”

The sound of her voice broke the spell, and you and Izzy turned to see the rest of the crew watching with amused grins. It was clear that your moment had not gone unnoticed, and a chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the gathered crew members. You noticed Edward give a small wink to Izzy, a knowing look passing between them.

“I should make you jealous more often,” you giggled, the playful tone in your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Izzy only rolled his eyes at this comment, unable to suppress a fond smile as he pulled you in again for another tender kiss.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd x reader #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd fanfic

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slexenskee · 1 year

Text

MDNSY AU

Posting this WIP bc maybe if it sees the light of day I’ll actually get around to writing more of it

I originally wrote this right after the sick-fic arc even though its supposed to take place during the Eri arc so it gets kinda AU from there

It’s only afterwards— months afterwards, that he realizes the full extent of his own stupid actions.

So many things had to perfectly align in exactly the wrong way for this to happen. But each and every one of them was his own damn fault, so there’s really no one to blame here but himself.

It had to have happened when Hawks had been sick and recovering in his hotel room, that’s the only way the timing lines up. Gojo has always been good about practicing safe sex— considering how he sleeps around, he sort of has to— and has never slipped up even once… until Hawks. Multiple times, actually, not even counting the time he was sick. There’d also been that time in Palawan, when he hadn’t brought any condoms with him because he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t need them. That had been rather profoundly short sighted of him, in hindsight. And then of course there were the time(s) when Hawks was staying in his hotel room, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and once again Gojo hadn’t thought to go out and buy any condoms because he’d genuinely thought he wouldn’t need any. Hawks had been sick! Basically delirious! How was he supposed to know that the moment he’d recovered enough he’d jump him? And on a related note, how was Gojo supposed to summon up enough willpower to stop him?

To that point— how was Gojo even supposed to know he should stop him?

That too, though, is entirely his fault.

Apparently it’s a regular part of sex-ed during middle school— except Gojo never went to class in middle school, so he’d entirely missed the memo. With the advent of quirks came a rare genetic mutation that allows for male pregnancies among a small subset of the population. Rare, but not entirely unheard of, either. It was certainly common enough for a segment to be taught in public schools, and testing to be done as part of the gamut of health checks most kids go through around puberty. Most kids aside from Gojo, who was out terrorizing organized crime syndicates just for fun at that age.

God, he’s a fucking idiot. This entire situation was so laughably avoidable, and yet he’d managed to end up in it anyway.

Anyway so now he’s having an existential meltdown in the middle of his still unfinished bathroom, staring numbly at the flecks of grout still flaking off the new tile, wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

“Satoruuu,” a voice whines from the other side of the bathroom door. “I need to pee.”

Gojo scrambles to his feet, binning the evidence of all the pregnancy tests and burying it under a cloud of toilet paper just before he wrenches the door open, smile fixed in place. “Sorry Eri-chan! I was spacing out.”

Eri just takes the excuse at face value, bounding into the only current usable bathroom in the house and shutting the door behind her.

Gojo sighs wearily, slumping against the wall just outside the door.

Alright, first on the agenda is finding a temporary residence for them while he gets an army of contractors to fix the worst of the ‘home improvement’ sins he’s committed upon this house as quickly as possible. He’d originally thought redoing the rooms would be a fun bonding activity for him and Eri, but now he knows all those chemicals will be bad for… for the baby, so that’s probably a bad idea now. He’s also going to need this house in livable condition as fast as he can make it happen, because apparently… there’s going to be a baby here in less than six months.

He’s also going to need a doctor, and a very good and discreet one at that. From what he’s read in his mad frenzy of online searching, male pregnancies are very high risk. He’s not at all worried for himself, seeing as though he can heal from just about anything, but that same protection doesn’t extend to the other person currently taking up roost inside him. He frowns. Or does it? Wouldn’t his reversed-curse technique still work on them when they’re still a parasite leeching off of his body? When exactly does their cursed energy start to deviate from each others to the point he can no longer heal them as an extension of himself? Man, what he wouldn’t give for a conversation with Shoko right now.

He can worry about things like clothes and furniture and baby food after he’s settled the most immediate concerns on his list. Namely, fixing this house and finding a doctor. And telling Eri, although he doubts that will be much of an issue. The girl will be beyond excited to be an older sibling.

Now as for telling his family and telling Hawks…

Gojo winces.

Yeah, okay. It says a lot that he’d rather tell Endeavor, to his face, that he’s getting another grandchild than fessing up to Hawks about carrying his kid. Even the thought of it is going to give him a stress tumor.

Well, stress is bad for babies, right? So maybe he should just table the thought for later. You know, for his health.

#fic may death never stop you #spinoff fic #mpreg au #mdnsy oneshots

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 3 months

Note

For the 1k fics...maybe another take on them coming back to the ship in s1e4, where Ed's a bit scared and reluctant to let Stede take care of him becuase he's never been able to do that before, and he pretends it's fine until it's obvious he's in such bad shape he needs help?

Yes. YES.

(Still taking prompts for 1k word fics! Can't promise I'll do all of them or will get to them in a timely fashion, but if they inspire me I'm doing them!)

Let the record show: Ed only said Stede shouldn’t have expected him to melt back into his arms, he never said Ed wasn’t going to do it.

He’d started the walk back to the ship with his head full of ideas. Even if he couldn’t quite trust Stede was all in, not just yet, not when everything was so fresh, he thought he might’ve been brave enough to reach out to hold his hand.

He didn’t.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because by the time they made it back to the ship, all of his available mental faculties had been entirely devoted to putting one foot in front of the other.

He was a bit banged up. Nothing to be concerned about. It had only almost killed him.

The crew had been completely expecting Stede to turn back up with Ed in tow (to Ed’s surprise, but not Stede’s), and their only firm condition for that night was that Ed had to be locked into the captain’s cabin overnight.

Ed made it up the ladder, across the deck, and he waited for Stede to turn the key in the lock, and then he let out his breath and collapsed down to his haunches, finally letting himself feel the pain, so acute it promptly made him tear up.

“Ed?”

Stede’s voice was heavy with concern, and with a groan, Ed yanked himself back up to his feet. “Sorry,” he said, hearing his voice like it was coming from underwater. “Bit tired.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Stede frowned sympathetically. “There are some first-aid supplies in the bathroom - I was going to clean you up a bit, earlier, but-”

“No,” Ed said sharply, taking a reflexive step back. “I’ll do it myself.”

That was a very important rule. Blackbeard didn’t go around letting people patch him up; he looked strong and he didn’t show it and he took care of himself, later, when no one could see.

“Okay,” Stede said softly, his frown deepening. “That’s fine, obviously, but if you wanted me to-”

“I don’t,” Ed said quickly, and to make that seem less harsh, he gave Stede a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, call me if you need anything,” Stede said. “I’m going to find you something warm to sleep in, alright?”

“Sure, man.”

Ed would not be calling Stede if he needed anything. Acting pathetic like that was just fuckin’ asking for Stede to leave him again.

Ed hobbled into the bathroom, trying to play the limp off as a casual lean against nearby objects.

When he got to the bathroom, he didn’t really have the strength anymore to keep himself standing up, so he just sank to the floor. That was fine.

He couldn’t hold back a soft cry as he peeled his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head, and he just had to hope Stede hadn’t heard that. There was a floor-length mirror in here, and he kind of shuffled over to get a look at himself.

He looked like warmed-over shit. The cuts on his temple and cheeks and his split lip stung, and his chest was covered with bruises and scrapes and a few deeper cuts. Some of them would need stitched up, all of them would need cleaning. His chinks were too pink; he tentatively pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and flinched from how hot his skin felt.

He tried to summon up the strength to stand up and grab the first-aid kit from where it sat on top of the sink. The resulting wave of weakness made him double over, forehead landing softly against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass.

If he didn’t get help, he was going to pass out in here.

Ed clenched his eyes shut.

“Stede?”

He’d called out tentatively, as quietly as he could without whispering, and it all but confirmed his suspicions that Stede had probably been waiting just outside the door when he rushed in.

And it was…a little fucking terrifying, actually, and Ed didn’t know if he was the kind of person who could just trust that easily.

“Alright, Ed,” he realized Stede was saying. “I’m going to help you up - can I touch you?”

Ed nodded, and he slumped into Stede’s side as Stede gently helped him to his feet, helping him hobble to the bed.

Stede told him what he was going to do before touching him, always giving him plenty of warning and time to protest if he’d needed to. He tenderly cleaned and stitched up Ed’s injuries, whispering apologies whenever Ed hissed or winced at the pain.

“You’re doing so well,” Stede told him once he’d cleaned him up and helped him into a soft nightgown, having him lay back on the pillows so he could put a cool cloth on his forehead. “You’re so brave, Ed.”

Ed managed a feeble sort of snort. “I’m acting like a baby.”

“Not at all,” Stede promised. He pulled a chair up next to the bed, and helped Ed lift his head for a drink of water that tasted like heaven going down. “You can rest now, okay? I’ll be here when you get up.”

“Promise.” Ed meant to make it sound like a threat. It didn’t.

“I promise,” Stede said.

Stede left one hand on Ed’s chest, always, as his other hand reapplied the cloth on his forehead, and it didn’t take a tactical genius to know what he was doing there. Feeling for the rise and fall of Ed’s chest beneath his palm, counting the heartbeats beneath his fingers.

And that was something, wasn’t it, that Stede was so scared of not being able to feel those things that he didn’t want to move his hand away even for a second.

You’re safe now. I’ll never leave you again.

Ed closed his eyes, and as he drifted off under Stede’s watchful hands, he came one step closer to trusting that was true.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

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getosbigballsack · 1 year

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𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒔

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒙 𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔, 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔, 𝑴𝑪 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓

𝑨/𝑵: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒛 𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒖𝒎'𝒔 𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔. 𝑰𝒕𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬𝑵 𝑰𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕. 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏.

𝑾𝑪: 2.8𝒌

𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖'𝒔 𝑷𝒍𝒂�� 𝑷𝒆𝒏✯

𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❤︎

Drink from the LECHE of SIRENS

SUMMON the SAILORS in TOWN

STRANGLE the FEAR of DECIDING

Which one’s DESERVING to DROWN

One foot in front the other, head tilted to the side, eyes dilated as he stared ahead of him, walking towards the body of water that was ready to consume him and what was left of his sanity.

“Y/N is that you?” he called out.

It was silent for a while until the sounds of that voice he grew accused of screamed at the top of its lungs, the sound so appealing and alluring yet so deceptive, dangerous even more so destructive. That had a purpose here tonight, and it sure wasn’t to love him and caress him like it always does.

DROWN, DROWN

And then you appeared before him in all your beauty and glory. Slowly emerging out of the ocean, your long silky hair sticking against your skin, the shimmy dress clad to your body and your skin glistening with the shimmer and salt from the ocean.

“Y/N… I’m sorry,” he said while tears ran down his cheeks.

You said nothing, you only lifted your hand and with the flick of your wrist, the ocean beneath your feet slowly raised from the ground and began to wrap itself around your body.

“Are you upset? I promised I had nothing to do with this, Y/N please,” he cried, falling on his knees before you, his lips trembling, hands shaking and sweating. “Don’t do this,”

You only offered him a sad smile, and once again the sound he once adored came rushing back to his ears.

Engraved in our MEMORY, the HARM that was done

Our MOTHERS, the witches they BANISHED and BURNED

All of our SISTERS were KILLED and ABUSED

By SWORD-swinging MEN who would always ACCUSE

“Don’t sing. Please Y/N, don’t kill them. I promise you they didn’t know. Please,” he cried out to you, begging you to stop that curs-ed sound from escaping your vocal cords. “Don’t sing.”

But you ignored him and watched as his crew appeared behind him. Slowly making their way towards the ocean that was angrily waiting for them, waiting for them to pay for their unforgivable sins.

The WORST of a WOMAN who FIGHTS for our RIGHT

To be where we belong at the FRONT of the LINE

TIRED OF SILENCE and being POLITE

Your legs turn shimmering SCALES in the NIGHT

“Y/N, stop this please don’t. Take my life instead,” he begged. He tried to stand, but your intimidating aura kept him on his knees. “Y/N PLEASE, It was foolish of them to commit mass murder amongst your people. But I beg you, don’t kill them. This is not who you are right?”

He was right, though you were a siren (as if that wasn’t obvious already), you weren’t as vicious as the tales proclaimed you to be. You were sweet, always smiling to the town folks, playing with the little children and singing to the lonely sailors before they sailed out to sea.

You were a kind, beautiful creature, a creature that he gets to hold in the nights while you sing you siren songs to sooth him to sleep, to turn him on, to have him lusting over your shimmering, bluish pale skin that he only gets to see in the night time when your form is more present.

“Y/N, give them another chance. Even if you don’t want to forgive them for their sins, I ask for you to give them a chance,” he pleaded, begging as he watched as his crew slowly made their way past him, one by one falling into the ocean. “Y/N.”

DRINK from the LECHE of SIRENS

SUMMON the SAILORS in TOWN

STRANGLE the FEAR of DECIDING

Which one’s DESERVING to DROWN

“Y/N, don’t kill them please.”

You offered him another smile before responding, “Satoru? Don’t feel bad when these fuckers all DROWN.”

“Y/N… NOOOOOOOOOO,” Gojo Satoru, screamed as he watched as he crew members began to sink into the ocean, that was roaring and angry waves crashing against the sands as you sang:

LET THEM DROWN (DROWN)

“Captain, I don’t want to die. CAPTAIN HELP US…. N,” his sailors screamed in agony before they sank in the depth of the ocean

LET THEM DROWN (DROWN)

“Captain…..PLEASE….” they continued to scream. “HELP HELP, HELP.”

LET THEM DROWN (DROWN, DROWN)

Is this the end result of what happened last night, when his men, his crew went a murder rampage and ended up capturing your people. And if capturing and locking them up beneath the sewer system wasn’t enough, they abused them, tortured them before slitting their throats with their dull knives. And while all of this happened, you were tangled beneath the sheets with him, making sweet love like you do many nights before.

As you watched as you teary eyes stared down at him, his mind wandered back to last night when those same eyes that were filled with anger, regret and hatred, were once filled with nothing but adoration and love just for him.

Flashback.

“Uhm, Satoru… slow down,” you cried as you clung to his shoulders for your dear life.

He moaned softly into your ears, his hips slowing to roll, to move gently inside your. “Mhm, better?” You nodded your head yes, your eyes shut tightly as you laid there and took all that he had to give to you.

You’ve always enjoyed slow intimate sex, as a siren, you craved soft, gentle intimacy. And he knew this and he was willing to change his whole demeanour when it comes to having sex with you, just to please you.

You could feel every vein on his thick shaft, how you lady parts snuggled tightly against his as he stroked you deeply yet so passionately.

“This is wrong,” he whispered in your ear, before pulling away to kiss your pouting lips. “This is forbidden.”

“I know,” you moaned loudly, not caring if your ancestors will curse you for laying in bed with a human. It is forbidden for a human and a siren to love each other. Loving a human will only lead to destruction and loving a siren will only drive the human to madness.

A clear and obvious thing that Satoru mates have taken notice of. They knew that it was only a matter of time before he was driven to madness. He was already hooked on you and your voice, and now the sex. Yeah he was doomed for eternity.

But he cared not, not when loving a siren feels so GOOD.

“And here we are,” he whispered as you moaned loudly, your eyes twitching beneath the lids. There was just something about how he was moving his hips combined with his low heavy breathing and moaning that had your chest arching into his. “You’re so beautiful,” he complimented as he pulled away from your lips to bury his face into the crook of your neck to suck love marks on your neck, then he leaves kisses on your collars and then slowly peppered kisses down until he reached the swell of your breast.

As Gojo continued to thrust slowly into you, you heard him grunt as he gripped the bedsheets before sucking on your nipples. “To… Toru,” you finally moaned out as you scraped your nails into the skin of his back.

“I love you,” he whispered and pulled away from your breast and kissed your lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you moaned. Your mind and body was filled with overwhelming pleasure. A pleasure to be experienced and it felt so good. You were both slowly starting to succumb yourselves with pleasure. You were both falling into euphoria. Even the bed that was slowly moving to the beat of your bodies, was falling with both of you.

Your body was slowly turning limp beneath him as he slowly increased the speed of his hip but he was still as gentle as he ever could be. His grip on the sheets got tighter, he could feel your wetness coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs. A single tear ran down your cheek as he pressed his nose against yours. You were both staring at each other as you exchanged breaths. “Fuck,” he moaned as he devoured your lips as you clenched around his shaft and it twitched inside of you. “I wanna cum inside of you,” Gojo moaned against your lips.

“Do it,” and liked that he closed his eyes and you closed yours as he came inside of you and you came around his cock while you both whispered, “I love you.”

“Yeah I love you too, and I promise to always love you,” he said and kissed your lips again.

END OF FLASHBACK

What a night to remember. If he had known that this is what he would have woken up to, then he would have kept you by his side a little longer.

But now here he is, on his knees too powerless to even help himself and his crew, all he could do was just kneel there and watch as you killed (drown) every single last one of his crew mates with your DEATH siren song.

TENDERNESS worn on the SKIN like a dress

NURTURE these MEN, pull them out of their MESS

They steal the RESOURCES, DESTROY all the LAND

BELITTLE the POWER of the FEMININE HAND

Meanwhile Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru’s best friend, was awoken from the raging ocean and quickly rushed outside to see what was going on. He almost dropped to his knees when he saw Gojo on his knees, crying and pleading while his crewmates all mindlessly walked into the ocean.

“SATORU,” Geto screamed out for his powerless best friend and as he was about to walk towards him, he was met with a forceful wind pushing him back and suddenly in his mind, your voice spoke, “DON’T COME HERE OR YOU DIE TOO.”

And then you continued to sing your song.

The MILK from the RIVERS of every MOON

CRADLE you tight like you're back in the WOMB

BURY their SOULS in a COVE by the LIGHT

CELESTIAL dip, all that EGO and PRIDE

He didn’t even realise that you were there until he left his head to look above Satoru to see you hovering with the ocean circling around your body. His mouth widens when he sees YOU, your true form staring back at him. You were beautiful, but scary at the same time. Scales covering your arms and legs, your ears like fins, your eyebrows were antennas and a head piece that looked like a crown, that almost seemed to also be a part of your body. Fins growing from elbow to your forearms, your fingers attached to each other by a thin layer of fin. Your eyes black and so is the colour of your lips and nails.

He knew you were a siren, but he had never seen your true form before. He would have been amazed if it wasn’t for the fact that you were literally murdering Gojo’s crewmates.

“Y/N, Stop this,” Geto shouted at you. But didn’t instead, he watched you lift your arms and the ocean raised in the motion and in the blink of an eye the ocean was now flooding the sailor’s village that wasn’t too far from them.

Screams of agony, children crying… the sounds of men trying to escape could be heard. But Y/N could care less, they did not deserve the live after all, she should them kindness and they killed her people and family in return.

DRINK from the LECHE of SIRENS

SUMMON the SAILORS in TOWN

STRANGLE the FEAR of DECIDING

Which one’s DESERVING to DROWN

“Y/N… PLEASE, don’t kill anyone else. Take my life, take me and leave them be,” Gojo cried. “Y/N, I LOVE YOU, PLEASE.”

But you ignored him and sang on.

LET THEM DROWN (DROWN)

LET THEM DROWN (DROWN, DROWN)

“Y/N,” Geto called out your name to get your attention. He watched as you turned to look at him. “Do you think that murdering his crew will magically solve what has already been done?”

Yes, he too knew about the murder rampage that Gojo’s crew went on last night without Gojo’s knowledge.

“They murdered my people. Killed my mother, abused my sisters and you want me to turn a blind eye. NOOOOOO. That won’t do.” you answered, your voices harmonising with each other.

Yes that’s another thing about sirens, whenever they sing, it’ll be like they have multiple voices using at once.

“Y/N, Don’t feel sorry for Satoru? He is begging you to spare their lives and take his instead,” Geto asked.

“SATORU was a mistake. I should have never gotten involved with him.”

“But you said that you love me right?” Gojo cried, feeling his heart slowly cracking inside his chest. “YOU LOVE ME RIGHT?”

You were unable to answer, choosing to sing instead of answering knowing that your heart is too soft whenever it comes on to him.

Nothing wrong with a little HAVOC

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by SHOUTING'

"Cut 'em off, leave WATERS RED"

Nothing wrong with a little HAVOC

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by SHOUTING'

"Cut 'em off, leave WATERS RED"

“Y/N, stop this madness,” Geto shouted.

“You’d have to kill me if you want that to happen.” You answered.

“Fine then,” Geto said to himself as he rushed inside the house. He knew what he had to do, in order to save the rest of the town folks, himself, his best friend and from yourself. You said it yourself, he’d have to kill you. And though he did not want to, this was the only way because talking to you at this point made no sense. You were too far and determined to kill until every paid for the death of your people and family.

“Y/N, I LOVE YOU, PLEASE STOP AND COME TO ME. I KNOW YOU DON’T REGRET WHAT WE HAVE. SO PLEASE, NO MORE, DON’T KILL ANYMORE HUMAN. I BEG YOU,” Your lover yelled.

Gazed into his eyes that reminded you so much of the oceans with your black eyes.

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan (DRINK from the LECHE of SIRENS)

So guillotine their heads by shoutin'

"Cut 'em off, leave waters red" (SUMMON the SAILORS in TOWN)

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan (STRANGLE the FEAR of DECIDING)

So guillotine their heads by shoutin'

"Cut 'em off, leave waters red" (Which one’s DESERVING to DROWN)

You lifted your arms yet again to form another wave to flood the other community.

“Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown” You said.

And just as you were about to flood the whole town, Geto came out of the house holding up a sniper rifle, pointing it towards you. The next thing you know, the gun went off and you felt a sharp pain in your chest.

“Y/N, NOOOOO,” Gojo screamed, finally being able to get up from his knee to catch your falling body. “Noo, noo…”

“I’m sorry,” Geto whispered.

“Y/N, don’t die on me, please…” Gojo cried while holding your body in his arms. “Please… please.”

You only smiled, this was for the best. If it weren’t for Geto both of them would have been dead. Maybe you would have destroyed everything in your path after killing them. This was the curse that the ancestor granted you for dating a human.

A nasty curse that had you people killed, your mother and sisters murdered.

“I should have never loved you,” You said to him.

“But you do…” he answered.

“I regret loving you… (cough) I should have never loved you,” you whispered as you tried to control your breathing even though you were dying. “I should have killed you first before killing everyone else.”

“But you didn’t,” he whispered as he leaned his head down to press against your forehead. “You love me Y/N and I love you.”

“Ha!”

Tears couldn’t stop streaming from his eyes.

“Satoru…”

“Don’t talk Y/N.”

“Let me sing this last song please.”

He shook his head yes, and held you close to him.

“But I feel my lover by my side, and he makes me follow my own heart. Satoru, we’ll be together in another life some sweet day, when that day comes I promise I’ll never leave you, we’ll never part.”

And just like that, you finally closed your eyes and let DEATH consume you….

✞︎

DRINK from the LECHE of SIRENS

SUMMON the SAILORS in TOWN

STRANGLE the FEAR of DECIDING

Which one’s DESERVING to DROWN

Stream PORTALS now on Spotify - Melanie Martinez: Milk of the Sirens

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌?

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