#Eddie is his human after all
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baggidude · 13 days ago
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Honestly even if Peter and venom are symbiotic I feel like Movie Venom would still wanna get back to his wet cat of a human
Also venom would prob make himself tiny and hide in Peter's ears so they can chat
So since venom is most likely gonna be in a future spidey film ( Since I think it's implied he's still alive with the cockaroach post credits scene) I'm thinking that once he connects with Peter he'll still do the usual venom things but this time around he will be asking where Eddie is and by the end of the film ( or films ) spidey will help him reunite with Eddie.
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linusbenjamin · 1 year ago
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Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing The Imitation Game (2014) dir. Morten Tyldum
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try-set-me-on-fire · 2 years ago
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Rewatched Eddie Begins yesterday and at the start his mom is talking about how Ramon was out of town for each of the kids, and how Adriana had been an emergency C-section. In the retirement party episode the story about little Eddie crashing the truck when his mom went into labor was also Adriana. So Eddie was alone and scared and his mom was in emergency surgery and when his dad finally showed up he needed comfort and got yelled at instead.....
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fceriestcrdst · 3 months ago
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im so close to being free from heeeellll
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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months ago
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Steve knows the kids are obsessed with the newest up and coming metal band, Corroded Coffin, even though their music is actually terrible. But when Robin of all people begs Steve take them to the band's next gig, he relents.
Everything starts to make a lot more sense when they walk up to the stage and there's an honest to god Siren behind the microphone, a guitar slung low on his hips with magic wafting off him in waves over the crowd.
The singer clocks him immediately and quickly schools the flash of surprise in his eyes into something more flirtatious.
Steve smiles, the cat that caught the canary. He was right. Their music really does suck, and he can't wait until tomorrow when he can rub it in his tiny human friends' faces.
Tonight, however, he's going to ruffle a pretty boy's feathers.
~~~
Eddie knows his music's horse shit, tailor made for humans- sue him, they needed the money. So he's always a little surprised when another creature finds their way to his concerts. It happens on occasion, and of course they're always welcomed. He's seen all sorts on their tour.
But something as beautifully unholy as a Nephilim?
The man with the auburn hair and hazel eyes surrounded by a gaggle of children glows with a golden aura so soft and warm Eddie's almost left speechless. Almost.
He's caught staring, but he can't take his eyes away. So Eddie does what Sirens do best. He preens, puffs his sleek black feathers just enough for only the man in the crowd to see and sings. A move typically saved for encores, the crowd goes wild with energy and pushes their way towards the stage.
The Nephi laughs, full-bodied with mirth at the antics. A beacon of golden light bursts from him, control of his halo slipping just the slightest.
It's unearthly, it's sinful, and Eddie falls to his knees in worship. The men and women caught in the halo turn to him, smiling and leaning in and touching what is Eddie's--
But the Angel relaxes, the halo draws back, and the peoples' hands fall away even though their eyes linger.
None of that matters when the Angel blows him a kiss. Eddie knows, deep in the hollows of his bones, that when he finds him after the show, he'll stretch his Angel's wings and show him just how bright his halo can glow.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months ago
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Steve and Eddie work together in an aquarium, and Eddie is losing his mind. He's in love, he's got the most embarrassing crush, but Steve doesn't even notice him.
They barely interact, and Eddie only knows Steve's first name. He doubts Steve knows he exists, he's just one of many tour guides (but he's amazing with kids and especially teenagers, so he's actually a great tour guide, thank you very much!)
Back to Steve. Steve, with his lean muscles, easy smile, thick hair and beautiful, but somehow sad eyes. That Steve.
The Steve who works in the aquarium as a merman.
Eddie could watch him for hours, floating in the tank with grace Eddie didn't know existed, with his sparkly yellow mermaid tail, flowing hair and chest hair, and that man can hold his breath for so long? Think of the options, the possibilities!
The mermaid show is insanely popular among all the kids and teens, even adults. His best friend Chrissy was the one who recommended Eddie to the aquarium, she's the main mermaid, and god, if Eddie wasn't gay, she'd have him at her feet. She always looks so effortless, twirling underwater in her emerald green mermaid tail, spinning around Steve. They make such a beautiful pair, it makes Eddie want to weep.
Fortunately, she's already in a happy relationship, so Steve is reportedly still single. Chrissy makes Eddie massage her feet in the evenings - he offered, they're cramping from a bad fit of the tail - and graciously answers all Eddie's reasonable questions, such as "how do his hands feel?" ("Wet. We're swimming, remember?").
She keeps telling Eddie to ask Steve out, but Eddie isn't stupid. That man is the god Poseidon himself, and Eddie is but a humble crab in his kingdom. So he admires him from afar, longing, pining and making Chrissy's head hurt.
But Steve's just so good with kids, Eddie can't keep his mouth shut. He always mutters something to Steve as he's ushering the kids away. "Great show, sweetheart," or "I love that smile, Stevie," or "need help getting that tail off?" He's only a man, and no one can hear him.
Except for a nosy tour coordinator listening in through his earpiece, Robin Buckley. She also happens to be Steve's best friend, Chrissy's girlfriend, and a menace to society.
And maybe one day she tells Steve to just smooch the tour guide, maybe she spills a few of the longing whispers and wishful stares, but she's only human too. A human who's had to listen to Steve's ramblings about the cute guy who always pulls the kids' attention like a magnet, who even through the blurry glass tank seems to be having an amazing time. Steve sometimes asks Robin for an extra earpiece and listens to the rest of Eddie's tour after the show. He loves his enthusiasm. Once Eddie even drew a heart on Steve's tank, can you imagine that, Rob?!
Maybe Robin and Chrissy have to work together to give the two idiots what they need, because Eddie considers himself too nerdy and plain for Steve, ans Steve thinks he's too dumb and shallow for Eddie.
Maybe Chrissy fakes slipping into the mermaid tank and drags Eddie with her. Maybe Robin is there and quickly gets Steve to jump after him. Maybe she makes the innocent mistake of insuating that Eddie can't swim.
And maybe, when Steve and Eddie are back on firm ground, confused and wet, Chrissy splashes them with water and asks if pretending that it's mouth to mouth resuscitation would help, or if they can finally kiss and stop pining for each other.
And one more maybe...maybe in a few weeks, when Eddie ushers the children away after the show, he kisses his palm and presses it against the tank, and watches Steve do the same, before he can give him a proper kiss after their shift.
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xiaq · 4 months ago
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I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.
Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.
Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.
Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).
After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.
Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.
The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.
So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.
I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:
"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."
And:
"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.
"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"
"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."
"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."
The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.
Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.
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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago
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“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”
“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”
“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”
Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”
“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.
“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”
Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”
“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”
“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”
“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”
Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-
“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”
He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.
“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.
It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.
Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.
“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”
“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.
Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”
“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.
Part Two
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urhoneycombwitch · 6 months ago
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foreword: have u ever had a buddy so good you jack off with him <3 roommate!Eddie x reader fic for ya. link to roommate!Eddie mlist here
cw: drug mention, R wears a bra, has breasts (implied to be large enough to “spill”) + V, no pronouns used only petnames, nipple play, R is queer (talks about Molly Ringwald in a sexual nature <3), praise kink, mutual masturbation, but as friends, we’re all normal here okay, we Do Not talk about our hidden feelings in this one soz
wc: 2.3k
___
An unfortunate shift of the pillows supporting your body pulls you from the depths of sleep, consciousness surfacing, breaching with a soft huffy groan. 
Waking up on a normal day is hard enough. Waking from a good dream, one where someone’s head was between your legs and everything was swelling lush with heat? Now that’s torture. 
You burrow the cold side of your face under the covers, eyes still screwed shut in defiance of being awoken before the dream could pay off. There’s a heartbeat pounding near the apex of your thighs; with one leg stretched out and the other draped around the curve of your body pillow, your hips roll forward automatically, seeking friction.
The soaked front of your underwear drags against the pillow’s seam, catching your clit on the next glide of your hips. Another soft moan, breath fanning from your parted lips. If you can stay in this grey area of sleep and waking, maybe the horniness will swallow your mind back to the dream…
When someone’s hand brushes your bare shoulder, your movements freeze. Goosebumps prickling in the palm-owner’s wake, you blink against the morning light pouring in through your bedroom window and try to orient yourself.
Your head is nestled in the curve of someone’s neck, left arm tucked secure around their chest. Leg hitched over their waist, cotton boxers band digging at the plush of your thigh- something else solid and warm trapped against their stomach.
A snuffle from your human body pillow, and the waking world hits you sideways, all at once- Eddie. You’d fallen asleep with Eddie last night, after helping him play-test a new hybrid strain and dancing to records all evening, until you both collapsed in a heap of giggles. In your bed. 
Which means that you’ve been humping Eddie’s leg in your sleep. And the thick length trapped under your thigh belongs to him, too. 
Before you can even fully process or think up an escape plan holding the least amount of embarrassment for you both, Eddie’s stretching the arm that isn’t cupping your shoulder up and out with a long yawn. 
His hips shift, pressing himself into your leg unintentionally, and you can feel the moan that rumbles through his body- at your ear, vibrating under your hand on his bare chest. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and sleep-addled, pulling you in closer, nosing at the crown of your head.
“Uh-” your voice comes out half-squeak, half-croak, not fully pushing off Eddie but keeping your frame tight enough to roll away at a moment’s notice. “H-hey.”
Eddie’s palm smooths down the plane of your upper back, stopping at the wide band of your bra. He makes another noise, this time a bit less sleepy- and then he, too, freezes, all those points of contact along the length of your own body stiffening, muscles tensed with realization. 
“Oh, fuck. Shit.”
Eddie’s voice is like rocks on pavement, three shades of gravelly, really not helping your whole ‘wet as a river’ situation, one that he can probably feel leaking onto his bare leg at this point. He doesn’t immediately roll away, though; he remains in that freeze-mode, tense and poised, holding you against the span of his side still.
Well. As frozen as one can be with a throbbing case of morning wood.
“I guess we… fell asleep,” you say, carefully, adopting the same cat-like stillness, the pause before a big leap. “Sorry-”
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Jesus.” Eddie uses the hand that’s not cradling your shoulder to scrub down his face. This close, nestled into his neck, you can feel his loose hair tickling your cheek, the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your forehead when he speaks. “I’m gonna… go take care of this. And then maybe. Breakfast? Christ. Can’t think. All my blood’s elsewhere right now.”
You breathe a chuckle. His arm is still wrapped around you. 
“Yeah. Okay. Or you could just- take care of it. Here, I mean. With me.”
Eddie’s breath stops, actually stops, then stutters back into steady rhythm under your hand. “...yeah?”
He sounds unsure but curious, excitement bleeding into the edges of that one word as your thumb sweeps across the spot where his ribcage meets. “Yeah. Be doing me a favor, too- I was kind of in the middle of a… a good dream. Prob’ly me that woke you up, anyways.”
Eddie’s hand drops from your shoulder, slithers back to his own space, disrupting your head rest briefly- until you realize he’s doing it to make enough room for you both to stretch out flat (on your mattress that was barely designed for one full-grown person). 
“A good dream,” Eddie parrots, as you both re-situate under the thin cover of your floral-patterned top sheet. Shoulder to shoulder, skimming the heat from each other’s bare skin as you stare resolutely at the ceiling, there’s a frizzy mass of black hair in your periphery. A hint of a smile in Eddie’s voice as he asks, “What were you dreamin’ about?”
You can feel the rippling shift of his bicep as his arm moves, hand sliding unseen beneath the sheets- a sharp inhale as his hand finds purchase over the bulge in his boxers. 
In response, your own hand follows the contoured path to the spot below your navel, toying with the band of your panties before slipping underneath. Cupping yourself, feeling the heated slick coat your fingers before dragging it back up to rest your middle against the beating pulse of your clit- “Ah- um. Was dreamin’ about. Uh. Molly Ringwald.”
A few days from your latest John Hughes marathon, it’s the first feasible famous person that comes to mind. Luckily, Eddie just laughs, in a stilted gasp when his fist finds his aching cock- “Oh, fuck- yeah? Redheads do it for you these days?”
“Uh huh.” Maybe if you keep the focus on someone else, you’ll both be able to come out of this event unscathed. Walk away with your hands clean- er. Well. Nope. 
A better analogy is gonna have to wait, because your abdomen’s tightening with each pass of your wet finger over your clit, pleasure licking and sparking, the usual slow-build to orgasm forming with shocking rapidity.
“What was she doing?” Eddie, sounding strained and strung-out already (really makes you wonder how long you’d actually been using each other, in sleep, grinding and working the other person up), hand moving in long strokes- “In your dream, I mean. Licking you out? Did she use fingers?”
It’s not like you haven’t heard Eddie’s dirty talk before- in fact, you helped cultivate it, years ago when he was nervous for a third date and wanted some advice. You’ve coached him on sex techniques, he’s given his own expertise, you’ve both appraised the other's nudes, for christ’s sake- this is just a natural extension of your friendship. Your closeness. 
Eddie’s feeling awfully close, now, his arm bumping against yours with each pass of his fist over his dick, your leg periodically grazing the downy hair of his shin as your hips jolt upwards, into the electricity stemming from the pad of your finger. 
Choking on your words around a bright surge of pleasure- “Y- yeah. Her mouth. Fingers. All of it.”
“Fuck.” Eddie’s form lurches, doing a half-crunch forwards- risking a glance, you catch a glimpse of the sweat beading at his temples, the dark slant of his brow in concentration, jaw working through the grit of his teeth- “Why don’t you use some fingers, then.”
Like he’s got you under some sort of command spell (because you’re not touching the alternatives with a ten-foot pole), you obey, middle and ring fingers curling into the tight channel of your cunt. There’s a spot you hit on your front wall, gummy and responsive, muscles reacting on instinct by contracting and spasming around your fingers.
You’re close already, panting, head tipped back against the bottom sheet, neck bared, eyes squeezing shut at the wave of pleasure that begins to pulse insistently. “I’m- fuck, Eddie. Keep talking, please-”
“So good,” Eddie says, almost funny in how quick he is to interrupt your pleading. “So good for me. Sound so wet, too, bet you’re soaking…”
You are, in fact, rivulets of slick joining into one just under the globes of your ass, cooling and sticky, a bit uncomfortable but since it’s laundry day and you feel this good you can’t really bring yourself to care.
A half-gasp whimper as you writhe your pelvis up, again, chasing that edge, tantalizingly close, the wet noises from your weeping cunt and plunging fingers spurring Eddie on.
“That’s it, baby.” He’s encouraging even in his own heady fog of pleasure (must’ve had a good sex-talk coach), voice low and rough at your ear as he drops his chin to get closer. “Tell me what you need, hm? Lemme get you there.”
“Need you- you, to…” Frustrated by your lack of breath, in lieu of communicating with words you slide your fingers from yourself, seeking Eddie’s hand before you can overthink the action. You leave a trail of slick against his hip bone, and Eddie releases himself to give you his hand- moaning, cock twitching, as you coat your own heated wetness over his dry palm. 
This time, when you both get your hands back on yourselves, it’s with a tandem whine, Eddie’s ending with a hiss through teeth- “Fuck. Fuck, yes. So wet. So good.”
“Yeah?” Like you never left, your pussy molds easily to the shape of your three fingers again. Your other hand leaves your side to paw at your clothed breast, nipples peaking through the lace. “I gotta- I’m gonna take my bra off. Please.”
You don’t actually wait for permission, but Eddie gives it anyways as you slide the cups down, babbling encouragement- “Shit, sweetheart, yeah. Whatever you gotta do. So good for me, tellin’ me what you need. Good job.”
One day, you’re gonna regret telling Eddie you get off on praise, but not today; with one nipple pinched firmly between thumb and forefinger, your other breast spills to the side, resting against Eddie’s upper arm.
He groans, from his toes, fist slipping over his cock with ease thanks to your contribution. The sounds filling your small room are obscene, sex-dipped moans and glossy wet hand movements all reaching a crescendo as both your hips jerk up at the same time.
Keeping the same pace against your clit as Eddie’s keeping on his dick, the spark of pleasure has turned into a roar that swims up to your ears, a white-out of an orgasm fast approaching each time the heel of your palm slams into your clit. 
“Eddie- jesus, Eddie- Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
You’d feel sheepish about how desperate you sound if Eddie wasn’t matching your energy two-fold. His lanky frame thrashes when your speech devolves into a repetition of his name, keening as his fist staves off tipping over the edge with a tight ring at the base of his cock- “That’s it, baby, y’can do it, angel. Come on. Come with me. Please, please-”
With a final cruel twist to your breast, you come undone, orgasm spooling heat throughout your whole system, Eddie’s name unraveling in a long cry. Eddie follows you, fucking up into his fist, ropes of cum shooting to the top of the sheets tent he’d made, hunching against the spasms crawling up his abdomen. 
You ride the last of your orgasm out on the stretch of three fingers, releasing your nipple when the pressure turns to a twinge of pain. Under the covers, your bare chest heaves around the stretched elastic band of your shoved-down bra; with shaky, uncoordinated hands, you reach behind and beneath yourself to undo the hooks, flinging the offending clothing in the general direction of your hamper.
Eddie chuckles, breathless, bellows of his ribs nudging your forearm as he sinks back into his (your) pillow. “Christ. Good thing it’s laundry day.”
There’s no room for shame, no ounce of you that wants to dwell on what this could mean, right now- although there’ll be plenty of time for that later. As it stands, you’re both swathed in a quiet, post-sex bliss, neither wanting to disturb the peace. 
In a dreamy haze, you take note of little things- the drag of Eddie’s pinky against the back of your hand. The glint of his rings stored in a neat line atop your nearby dresser. A block of mid-morning sunshine from the window cast over the bed, prickling at your legs with warmth.
After a few minutes of this, Eddie sits up, mumbling apologies when you snatch the sheets to keep yourself covered. “You want first shower?”
He looks at you over his shoulder, down the lovely arc of his nose, brown eyes tender and staying on you for a beat too long. Squirming under his gaze, you find anywhere else to look (other than the pale slope of his back, smattered and dotted with freckles), shaking your head. “Nope. All yours.”
You flick your interest back to the ceiling as Eddie pulls up his boxers, grimacing at the mess he’s made of your sheets; before leaving, he bends to scoop up your tossed bra, snapping his own underwear to emphasize- “I’ll start this load before showering, then I’ll come back for your bedding.”
At your nod, Eddie leaves to clank around in the laundry closet; then there’s a rusty squeak of the shower handle, a subsequent rush of water, and Eddie’s pleasant husky humming floats down the hall through the open doors. 
You roll onto your front with a contented sigh, burying your nose in the pillow Eddie was just lying on- it smells like him, now, smoky and spicy and familiar. 
You spend the rest of his shower time coming up with a good excuse to save this pillowcase from being washed.
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pyrrhiccomedy · 25 days ago
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This is my cat.
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His name is Eddie Potato.
Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.
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[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]
We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.
This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.
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He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.
The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.
Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.
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He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.
We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.
Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.
I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.
Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.
After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.
And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.
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Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.
What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.
"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.
He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!
It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.
I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.
Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.
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dyns33 · 25 days ago
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Flufftober 2024 - 29 Eddie Brock / Venom
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Y/N had met Vee during a Halloween party.
A little intimidated by the crowd and not knowing anyone, she had stayed in her corner for a good part of it, until this giant with his incredible costume came to talk to her.
It would be a lie to say that she had not found him adorably charming, and she would have liked them to be more than friends, if he had not spent most of the time talking to her about his Eddie.
It was obvious that there was something strong and unique between Vee and this Eddie, even if he did not seem to appreciate him at his true value.
"He never agrees with me… He wants to control everything !" he had sobbed against her shoulder. "He says that I won't even be good at cleaning toilets."
"That's not nice. Maybe this relationship is not very healthy."
"But I love Eddie. He takes care of me and even though he's a stupid loser, he tries a lot. Maybe… Maybe I'm too hard on him."
"It's normal to have expectations from your partner. You need to sit down and communicate, to see what's wrong and find solutions."
"You're right, little morsel ! You're a good friend !"
Obviously very busy, Vee kept in touch with her by calling her almost every night and sending her messages, but never having time to see her.
He used Eddie's phone, while he slept. Before meeting her, Vee had never seen the point of having one, and he contacted her secretly because he found it funny to have a secret all to himself.
"But I'll tell him at some point, because we share everything. We're in symbiosis, we're one."
"That's cute. Do you think he'll be angry ?"
"No. Scared maybe."
"Oh." she wondered. "Is he the jealous type ? He'll be afraid that I'll steal you from him ?"
"I'd rather be afraid that he'll steal you from me, I think he'll love you a lot. And that's why he'll be afraid for you. He'll think I want to eat your brain."
Sometimes she didn't understand everything he said, but she found him funny and considered that he simply had a particular sense of humor.
But after several months of talking to him, he finally ended up running into him while a guy was trying to take her purse in an alley.
Vee jumped from a rooftop, growled at the thief, grabbing him with one hand, before biting his head off. Then he turned to Y/N, smiling.
"Eddie, she's my friend."
"Y/N ?" a voice that seemed to come from inside him asked. "Great, Vee, she's not going to freak out at all because you just killed someone. I already told you to go get some chickens if you were hungry."
"You never let me do anything ! He was mean ! He was attacking my Y/N !"
"Let me talk to her, okay ? So I don't traumatize her more than necessary."
In the end, Venom was an alien, and Eddie his host, a man not as horrible as she had imagined, simply trying to keep his symbiote from doing too much mischief so that they wouldn't be spotted by the government.
They fought often but they couldn't live without each other. Literally for Venom, even if they also loved each other too much to want to be apart.
As he had expected, the human had panicked a bit when he learned that he had a friend, that she didn't really know what he was, and that they were therefore putting her in danger just by talking to her. But Eddie had understood that she was important. He had felt it.
When Vee said that they shared everything, he was dead serious.
"I showed him a picture of you. He got an erection."
"Vee !" Eddie shouted, trying to silence the head floating next to his shoulder. "Shut up ! Those are not things to say ! Excuse him."
"Why ? I like Y/N, and you like her too, and she likes us. Her pheromones don't lie."
"Vee ! You're making everyone uncomfortable, stop."
"See ? He never agrees, he controls everything."
Y/N saw clearly, now understanding many things that had seemed a bit strange to her. She could have run away, but despite this surprising discovery, she really liked Vee, and Eddie seemed as charming as he was.
So she suggested that they spend the next Halloween, all together this time.
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steddieas-shegoes · 19 days ago
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stay the night
for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘guard’
rated m | 532 words | cw: implied/referenced sexual content | tags: established relationship, Steve is self-conscious, they’re idiots
😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬
They’ve been dating for nearly a month, fucking for even longer. Eddie practically spends every day with Steve, most evenings, too. But he never spends the night.
Steve doesn’t ask him to and Eddie’s too scared of this new thing they have to ask if he can. There must be a reason that Eddie doesn’t get the same treatment that so many girls used to get. It has to be a problem with him.
He tries not to think too much about it. It could still be nothing. It could just be that Steve prefers sleeping alone. Or maybe Steve thinks sleeping together is more important than, well, sleeping together. He’s a hell of a romantic, so that makes sense.
But even that seems strange because Eddie’s done everything to show how much he cares about Steve without actually saying that he loves him. He’s gone through all the stops. He’s done more flower buying, jacket sharing, hand holding, cuddling than he ever thought he’d do with a partner.
He’s sitting on Steve’s bed, waiting for him to finish showering after a long work day, when he decides he’s gonna ask. Steve has the start of a migraine and he wants to be here to hold him and make sure he takes medicine and gets decent rest so it doesn’t get worse.
Steve comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, hair dripping onto his shoulders. Eddie’s human; He looks him over from head to toe.
“Can I wear your shirt to sleep?” Steve asks as he grab sweatpants from his drawer.
“The one on my body?” Eddie asks, looking down and back up. Steve nods. “Sure, if I can stay the night.”
Damn, that was easier than he thought it’d be. Steve left it wide open for him to be able to sneak it in.
“Oh,” Steve sounds unsure now. “Um.”
Eddie waits. He’s pretty sure saying anything to try convincing Steve will just make him more nervous and feel more pressure to say yes, and as much as he wants him to say yes, he doesn’t want him to feel like he has to.
“Yeah. I just, um.”
Eddie stands up and takes a few steps until he’s close enough to Steve to cup his face in his hands.
“It’s okay if not. I just wanted to see if you were ready for that,” Eddie offers. It really is okay, but it doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t gonna cry about it on the way home.
“No, no. I just have um.” Steve breathes out, closes his eyes. “I have to wear a mouth guard when I sleep?”
Eddie blinks slowly. “A mouth guard?”
“Yeah, uh. I had braces when I was younger and started grinding my teeth together and I had to start wearing a guard for my teeth,” Steve explains in one breath. “And it looks stupid so. I just didn’t want you to see that.”
“But. Other people have, right?”
Steve shakes his head. “I usually skipped it if I had someone over one night.”
“So-“
“I want you here all the nights, not just one.”
“Oh.” Eddie smiles. “So I can stay?”
“Yeah, please stay.”
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space-invading-pigeon · 1 year ago
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Post s2 steddie where Steve just. Gives up. Not to say he does anything drastic, I mean he goes from the King of Hawkins High to the King of Fuck Around, Find Out.
His old friends, the ones Eddie will refer to as the King's Court, are terrified of him because Steve was the Nice Guy of their group. He has all of their secrets, and now there's nothing keeping him from airing that but general human decency. Billy doesn't much talk to him, not after being drugged and threatened within an inch of his life by a thirteen-year-old with nothing to lose, so Steve is mostly left to his own devices.
He keeps to himself, but he sticks up for the less popular kids when he sees them. It's amazing to see; sophomore Gareth is saved from Tommy H and Jason Carver when Steve levels them both with a glare and says, "Muncie." Both boys go sheet-white and pretend that they've lost interest in Gareth before scrambling off. Gareth is grateful enough to invite Steve to Hellfire's lunch table, and Steve agrees pretty easily.
Sitting with Hellfire is more nerve-wracking for the members than it is for Steve: the only person completely unaffected by Steve's completely expressionless face is Eddie, who seems to have no problem reading Steve like a book. It's a little terrifying for the Hellfire members, but Steve very clearly likes Gareth (at the very least) and seems to enjoy bickering with Eddie.
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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠
(This one ran away with me, whoops)
Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨
This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.
Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.
And go to his DMs.
And send him a GIF.
Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.
"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.
Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅
Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑
Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess
Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass
Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.
Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?
Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-
(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)
-a little more human-shaped.
Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉
Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!
They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.
He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.
Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.
He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.
Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.
Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.
Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???
Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:
@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island
@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero
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chaptersleftunwritten · 2 months ago
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Darkest Desire
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Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…
Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…
Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader
Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+
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divider by @reveriesources
Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.
Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.
Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.
You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.
Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.
Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.
Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.
And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.
It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.
“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.
“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.
And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.
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The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.
“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.
You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”
An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.
The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.
“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.
The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.
That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.
As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.
His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.
He doesn’t speak a single word.
He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.
And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.
His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.
You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.
“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.
“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.
“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.
Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?
“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.
“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.
“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.
“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.
“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.
Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.
But they don’t.
You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.
Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.
That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.
“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.
Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.
Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.
You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…
Now you feel afraid.
“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.
“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.
“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.
“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.
This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.
“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?
“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.
You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.
“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.
“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.
“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”
“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me—“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.
“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.
“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.
He too, had taken off.
And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.
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It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.
Had they actually ditched you and went home?
Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.
To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.
A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.
“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.
That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?
You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.
Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.
Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.
“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.
“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.
But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.
You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.
You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.
Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.
“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”
Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.
“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”
“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.
Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.
“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”
You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.
“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.
“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.
The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.
But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.
“You must think I’m a total freak.”
“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.
“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”
Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.
“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.
“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.
“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”
“I will.” He promises.
“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.
“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”
-
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msgexymunson · 9 months ago
Text
Highest Bidder
Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 
Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 
A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 
Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 
7k words
Masterlist
“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 
The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 
The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.
Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.
It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 
So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 
You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 
Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 
What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 
“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 
When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.
“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 
He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 
“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 
Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 
‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 
“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”
His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 
“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 
After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 
The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  
“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”
After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 
“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 
As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.
No. Your friend. Just a friend. 
“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 
“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 
“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 
“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 
“Fifty dollars!” 
The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 
“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 
Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 
“One hundred dollars!” 
Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 
She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 
But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 
You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 
“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 
The man at the back called out, “right here!” 
Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 
“One thirty!” 
It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  
“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 
The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 
He's yours. 
Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 
It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 
At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 
“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 
Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 
“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”
He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 
“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 
“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 
“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 
He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 
“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 
Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 
“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 
“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 
Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 
“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 
Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”
He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 
You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 
“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 
She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 
Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 
“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 
He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.
“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 
You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 
“-nevermind. Thank you.” 
As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 
“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 
As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 
“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 
“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 
You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 
“Woof! Woo-” 
“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 
As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 
“What are you doing?” 
Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 
“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 
As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  
“This isn't a date, Eds.” 
Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 
“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 
As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 
“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 
A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 
“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 
“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 
“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 
“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 
As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 
“Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Let's get out of here.” 
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 
Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 
“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 
Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 
“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 
His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 
“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”
Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 
“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 
“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 
Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.
“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 
He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 
“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 
You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 
“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 
“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”
“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 
You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 
“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”
“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 
“What else would I do?” 
He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 
“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 
“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 
Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 
“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 
“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 
Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 
“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 
“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 
“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 
“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 
Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 
“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 
It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 
It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 
Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 
So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 
“I'm in love with you.” 
It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 
“Huh?” 
“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”
You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.
“Eddie, you lied.” 
“What? I'm telling the truth I-”
“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 
Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 
The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 
“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 
There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 
Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 
“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 
You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 
The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 
“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 
A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 
“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 
A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 
“You are so beautiful.” 
Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 
“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 
“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 
Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 
“Can we go to my bedroom?” 
Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 
“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 
“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 
The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 
Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 
“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 
He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 
The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 
“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 
“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 
You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 
“Do I need to put a towel down?” 
“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 
“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 
He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 
“You want me to stay?” 
“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 
The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 
“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 
“Hmm?”
“Get the towel.” 
Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 
“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.
“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 
“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 
“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 
Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 
“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 
You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 
As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 
“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 
“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 
“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 
“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 
“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 
“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 
Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 
“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 
He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 
Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 
“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”
Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 
“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 
He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 
“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 
He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 
“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 
“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”
“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 
“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 
His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 
“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”
“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 
Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 
“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 
Sweet. You sound sweet. 
In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 
There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 
“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 
He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.
It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 
He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 
The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 
“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 
Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 
Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.
“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 
Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 
“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 
“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 
“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 
The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 
It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 
“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 
He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 
“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 
You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 
“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 
“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 
“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 
He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 
Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 
“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 
Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 
“I-I'll try.”
“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 
Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 
“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 
“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  
A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 
“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 
Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.
“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 
Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 
“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 
“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 
Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 
“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 
Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 
“Eddie, I lo-” 
“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 
You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 
“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 
You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 
“Right there princess?” 
Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 
“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 
Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 
“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 
“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 
It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 
“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 
Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 
Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 
“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 
He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 
“Eddie, that was perfect.” 
He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 
“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”
Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 
“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 
You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 
“Right, now, just hang on.” 
With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 
“I can change the sheets if you want-” 
“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 
Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 
“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 
You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 
“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 
“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 
The smile in his voice makes you smile too.
“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."
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