Another @stranger-tales Fic Me Friday brainworm that I'd forgotten was in my docs sorrysorrysorry
title: wanted more than just an encore
tags: modern au, famous [character], meet-cute, worlds collide, running from the cops
Modern AU where Corroded Coffin are moderately successful and are on tour at a mid-sized venue, but it's in a divided town where more than half of the population are progressive but the rest remain aggressively conservative.
At the end of the gig Eddie does his usual advocating for LGBTQ+ rights, but in this place it gets him chased down by local pearlclutchers and pitchforkers with cops in tow.
He's giving it legs out of the venue and ducks down an alleyway, where he oh no! crashes into a geeky, preppy, specs-wearing English teacher!Steve (who looks like this okay just trying that again)
Apologising profusely and helping to pick up his dropped books, Eddie falls completely and deeply in love the instant their eyes meet (and realises that corduroy might not be a high fashion statement but damn does this guy make it look good). He persuades/cajoles/makes outlandish promises to Steve, begging him to get him out of there in his green, wood panelled station wagon.
Steve, initially completely freaked because This Sort Of Thing™️ never happens around here, takes in the leather and eyeliner and all the rainbow pins and suddenly recognises Eddie from the CC merch some of his schoolkids have, and realises Eddie is (not only super hot and bashful and sweet, plus crazy and exciting, fully himself and unlike anyone he's ever met, but is also) an advocate and ally.
They escape from the hoards with Eddie hiding in Steve's backseat (under a hideous plaid blanket, surrounded by text books and a really bad, slightly damaged, looks like it could possibly be possessed paper maché bust of Edgar Allan Poe) as he weaves the car through the melee. Chief Hopper even clears a path for him at one point because he’s not there to police the concert (like some of the other cops) but the protesting rabble (which he can't abide; some of which may even have been bussed in from other towns to help stir up trouble). Plus, he can't let the best (and most progressive) teacher Hawkins High ever had get caught up in this divisive mess.
Eddie calls the band to let them know he's okay, and they both agree (with zero ulterior motives from either of them of course) that the best plan is obviously for Eddie to hide out at Steve's for the rest of that evening. They share snacks and dinner, and Eddie imagines Steve is pretty straight laced and he'd never have a chance with him, so is trying to make the most of the only time he’ll get to spend with him. Eddie decides to lay his life open anyway, and explains why the crowds were chasing him, tells him about the band, his past, his passionate advocacy work and donations and how he uses his platform as much as he can to support everyone in his crowds, but especially the kids. Steve, who's necessarily mostly closeted lest he loses his job, is amazed (and impressed) that anyone would deliberately put themselves in the firing line like that.
“So, is this something you always do at the end of your gigs?”
“Yeah, as much as I can. I wanna get the word out that no matter where you are or who's around you, you're not alone, and there are places and people who will always love and support you.”
Steve says how amazing that is, and how he wishes he could do more for the kids at his school but he's limited by the school board and local politics. Eddie realises he might have been a little wrong about Steve, but even if he's not he promises he'll come back to the town and visit the school if Steve would like him to, he'll bring merch and do a talk or whatever, to which of course Steve enthusiastically agrees.
The night stretches on and they ultimately get flirty and sit closer and closer, and eventually Steve is brave enough reach out, wind one of Eddie's curls around his finger and ask,
“Eddie... What if I wanted more than just an encore?”
For the game ask, prompt "what is a mammoth doing in the Senate", AO3 tag "crack" 🦣💙
@dohrnaira! You gave me this prompt for my microfic game ages ago and I found it in my drafts--I think I was intending to make it longer but when I came back to it, I really liked how this felt like a complete tiny story all by itself ! (I was so tempted to try to snowbaz this but mammoths deserve better and I love revisiting the Mars House.)
“What,” says an icy voice, “is a mammoth doing in the Senate, exactly?”
River turns and sparkles at the voice in a way that January knows means trouble. “Are you referring to my intern?”
The senator who objected sputters. “Don’t be ridiculous, an animal can’t be an intern.”
“We’re all animals,” January interjects, which earns him (and his cage) a cold glare.
“This is Gregory,” River says, bowing in Gregory’s direction.
The senator--someone from an old family, and one of the loudest voices in support of forced naturalization--manages to look down their nose at Gregory while also looking up. After a long pause during which they're clearly weighing whether it's worth the risk to anger the Consul, they say patronizingly, "I suppose your family is very proud of you being here?"
"Actually my grandmother thinks this is beneath me and going to be a terrible influence," Gregory says happily.
Shane was two hours and almost three plates in to a stuffing in their Montreal hotel room after a successful week at camp when an alarm starts blaring in their room. Ilya almost drops the plate when they both jump.
“Is fine, just the fire alarm. Probably a test or something, it will go off.” He runs a soothing hand over the hot stretched skin of Shane’s belly.
They wait while the alarm continues blaring, if it doesn’t stop soon, Shane’s going to loose his momentum, he was in that perfect headspace where he felt like he could eat forever.
“This is not a drill, please exit the hotel. This is not a drill, please exit the hotel. This is —“
A mechanical voice adds to the alarm.
“Fuck. Ilya — I don’t even know if I can get up.” Shane looks down at himself, his belly is firm and round, sticking out in front of him like a torpedo, his dick had been hard and leaking, but thankfully the alarm killed his erection.
“Ok, ok. I will help you.” Ilya jumps up to put his own pants on and sticks his hands out for Shane. He is well and truly stuffed, it’s a bit of a hassle to get him sitting up and then standing.
Getting his clothes on will be another thing entirely. His sweatpants won’t fit over the dome of his belly, he has to put the waistband below the curve of it. His shirt will just barely cover all of his skin, as long as he doesn’t raise his arms at all. He can’t even put a sweatshirt on because it’s mid July and still hot even at night. Everyone, including all of their friends, are going to see Shane’s packed stomach.
Down in the parking lot Shane tries to stay as far away from the gaggle of hockey players that have gathered. He wants to be back up in his room, he wants to be getting aftercare. His stomach is stretched painfully tight. Normally he likes this, he likes the edge of pain when he’s pushed past his limit. Normally he has Ilya’s big hands rubbing out the pressure and soothing the ache. Ilya tries to do what he can, holding Shane close to him and turning them away from the crowd so he can at least try and rub Shane’s tummy.
It’s no use though, Shane is miserable and whimpering, the pleasure completely gone and just replaced with pain. He leans his weight against Ilya, smashing his face into his neck.
“Sorry folks! False alarm. You can head in now.”
Back in their room Shane flops on the bed and immediately shoves his shirt up to his chest and his pants down to his thighs. His stomach is covered in angry red marks from the too tight waist band.
“I’m so sorry, malysh. You have been so uncomfortable for so long.”
“Can we just go to bed? My stomach hurts and I can’t get back in the mood.”
“Of course, we do whatever you want. I’m going to put the cart in the hall.” He sets to cleaning up the room, putting lids back on plates that have gone cold and rolling the cart out to the hallway for someone to pickup.
Ilya takes his clothes off and then helps Shane get the rest of the way out of his own.
Ilya digs their lotion out of his suitcase and comes to lay next to Shane. He smooths cool lotion across Shane’s belly, pressing firmly to help relive some of the ache.
“You did so well for me, you were so perfect. I am sorry you didn’t get to finish.” Ilya whispers into Shane’s ear.
“I guess I will have to recreate this for you back at home, hmm?” He leaned down to press gentle kisses to Shane’s tummy.
kindly requesting [comfort] with fwb/best friend eddie 😌 (love u queen mwah)
lindsey !!!!! fwb!eddie!!!!! you know my weakness, every time. <33
send me a prompt
mdni, 18+, smut, porn no plot, piv, no protection used, continued under the cut
[comfort.] sender makes love to receiver after a rough day.
“Fuck, dude,” He moans under you, his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. “Needed this. Needed it bad.”
You roll your hips, feeling every inch of his throbbing member press against your walls.
Eddie should not feel this good. You think to yourself.
But the guy shows up on your doorstep, all rattled and out of breath. He had stormed up your apartment steps and pounded on your door like he was trying to break it down. And before you could inquire about what the hell was going on, his hands reached for your face.
He did this from time to time. You had done it to him more times than you could count.
You fucked each other when neither of you wanted to think. It was nothing serious. Friends with a mutual understanding. Sometimes you just needed to fuck, and you both agreed that finding partners was too much of a hassle.
You were busy with work and school, he was too busy being a menace to society.
Both equally stressful things, of course.
But today must have been bad. He usually would lay it all out for you before getting down to business, but he could not get his pants off quick enough.
Your hand mounts firmly on his chest as you draw your hips upward, finally slamming down onto him with equal precision.
“Do you wanna,” You start to speak but his hips start meeting yours and your brain blanks. What were you even trying to say again?
For the first time since you laid eyes on him today, he smiles.
“Do I wanna what?” He asks, breathlessly.
“Do you wanna talk about-” You suck in a sharp breath, forcing all your weight on him so his cock is fully sheathed inside you for a second. “Talk about it? W-what’s going on?”
He reaches up to fondle your bare chest before propping himself up more on your headboard. He shakes his head, his sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead.
“Just a bad day.”
You shift on his pelvis, giving him only a bit of friction. “Anything I have to worry about?”
He presses a small kiss to the swell of your breasts. You think it’s sweet and tender at first, but then he begins extending his tongue out of his mouth and flicking your taut nipple with it. “Wasn’t the agreement ages ago that it's no talking about the shitty stuff while I’m stuffed inside you?”
You throw your head back, the view of him playing with your tits a bit too much. “Yes, but I’m just worried about you.”
His hands move from your hips and slowly begin traveling upward to your waist. He locks his arms around you before throwing you down onto the mess of the bed. You lie on your back, eyes wide and confused.
His dick is still stuffed snugly in your dripping cunt, but this time the curve of it is pressing inside you differently. Hitting that delicious area that Eddie usually toys with his fingers.
“Worried about me, hm?” He hums, sitting back slightly on his calves. He looks between the two of you, still connected, and dribbles just a bit of spit.
The sight alone makes you clench. You cannot even verbalize when he’s looking like that above you.
He smirks before slowly drawing himself out of you, “I appreciate the concern, sweetheart, I really do. But please, just let me drown my sorrows in this perfect pussy of yours.”
You jerk a nod, letting him unhurriedly thrust himself in and out of you. The feeling is maddening. You want him to speed up so bad, but he looks so spent above you that you say nothing. Just some broken moans in between each thrust and hushed whispers of his name.
He drops down on top of you, his elbows pressing into the mattress next to your shoulders. His face is wedged into your neck as he continues his prodding at your pussy. You push your fingers through his disheveled curls, grabbing onto him by the roots of his hair.
His motion never speeds up, if anything it just becomes more powerful. As he nears his end, you can feel his dick twitching against your g-spot. You know you are close, too. You push your hand between your bodies, but before you could even get near your clit, his hand is over your mound and rubbing fast circles against that sensitive spot.
When you clench around him, he’s chanting your name and stilling his movements completely. You feel him seeping out of you almost immediately, but especially when he retreats from your cunt.
He exhales, his hot breath fanning across your throat, “Did I say how much I needed that?”
You can only let out a giggle before he drops down beside you with a long, drawn-out sigh.
Oooh this prompt: [tender.] sender gently traces their fingers along receiver's scars; with Steve or Eddie!
ohhhh sadie, you devil!! making me all soft on this fine tuesday evening 😩
here a lil something with eds <3
send me a prompt
<33333333
“Would ya’ stop that.”
Eddie’s voice is hesitant and unsure. But as your fingers follow the divots in his skin on his abdomen, you almost become hypnotized by the soft and bumpy flesh. You respect Eddie’s boundaries; there’s no question about that. You know his scars are a point of insecurity for him.
“Every itch of you is so beautiful,” You whisper, eyes flickering up and up and up before landing on his dark chocolate irises.
“Babe,” His voice quivers, his hand slowly coming up from underneath the quilt to halt your hand from making it to his neck, where the scars aren’t as dire but still sensitive.
You lick your lips, pushing yourself up onto your elbow. “I’m sorry, I just want to… I want you to know I appreciate you. And this. What we have. And you're just so... beautiful."
Eddie would usually retreat into himself. He had always been a huge softie, but after the terror of the Upside Down, the months of recovery, and needing assistance for everything, he had become slightly jaded.
But being with you had shifted his perspective. Spending time with you the last few months has eased him back into what he used to be. It took him a few weeks to work up the courage to be fully naked around you. He was so afraid his torn and disfigured body would scare you away, but the moment his shirt slid off, your eyes softened and your lips quirked upward.
It was never pity. You were not like that.
It was appreciation. Simple.
After awhile, he was more comfortable wearing his muscle t-shirts again. He allowed you to join him in the shower. You helped build some confidence within him, which he was grateful for.
But the times you would throw your leg over him, and ease yourself onto his lap, your hands would always land right on where his scars were on his neck and shoulders. You had admired him countless times, sure, but touching them solidified you perceiving him. And that terrified him for some reason.
Now you are lying next to him in bed, after two rounds of mind-blowing sex, and suddenly he feels like a kid again. Scared to be seen in a way that may be taken as negative or disgusting.
Then your soft words pivot something in the pit of his stomach. No one had ever described him as beautiful. He holds your wrist, but does not move your hand away from the deep lines on his pec.
“They are ugly,” Eddie sighs, his eyes still trained on your at-ease expression.
You shake your head, looking down where your hands are joined together. Hovering right over some significantly expansive healed gashes, “Not to me. They shouldn’t be to you either.”
He hums, completely unconvinced, “Why’s that?”
“Every single one shows that you endured the most horrific thing ever and still came out on the other side. Still handsome. Still lovable. Still generous and funny. Still you. With a bit more… flair.”
He cannot help but crack a smile at how absurd you sound, “Flair?”
“I know you're a man who thrives in the world of theatrics. Seemed like a good word to describe it.”
He drops your wrist and uses both hands to pull your face towards his. When your lips meet, you cannot help but giggle, thinking about the adjective. He grins into the kiss, too.
He may not believe you yet, but he could see himself come around to the idea that his scars mean more than just the horror he endured. You could convince him, eventually. He's sure of that.
“I love you,” He mumbles between scattered kisses.
I wasn't officially tagged or anything but @gingervitus threw out an open tag and it's the Monday after a three-day weekend and I'm avoiding my work emails at all costs. If you've already done this sorry for the double tag, but I'm tagging: @dags-over-caravans, @gatesofminrathous, @epiphany-jones, @adejareve, @blightwashed, @slothquisitor and @gloaminghagette, whatcha got?
Rules: Go to Pinterest and type in the prompts below. Whatever image pops up is your image. Prompts: Colour, Quote, Character, Hobby, Accessory, Song Lyrics, Flower
