#listen I definitely think eddie appreciates most music

[steddieas-shegoes]

Eddie Munson would be obsessed with Hozier

There I said it

He would call him the Tolkien of songwriting and would absolutely not care that it might “ruin his image” to enjoy his music

[hotluncheddie]

New anon here... I've been thinking about the government shoving Eddie into witness protection without letting him say goodbye to the rest of the group, which is a real bummer Steddie-wise because they were definitely headed towards something. So Eddie is like, in the suburbs of Chicago or somewhere under the new name Nathan Edwards or something, gets a slave wage job at a Scoops Ahoy, and proceeds to eat his feelings.

A couple years later, Steve is passing through the area, sees the Scoops, and thinks what the hell, he's doing pretty well for himself these days at whatever "fuck you dad I can make it on my own" career he ended up choosing, he can go in and tip some fresh outta high school kid the way he'd always appreciated back in his Starcourt days. And wow, the guy behind the counter definitely isn't a teenager, but he does look familiar...

:0 anon!!!!!

i’m hoping by saying he eats his feeling in the ice cream shop that we’re on the same page here… (bc oof 🥴👹)

but ugh witness protection is so sad omg but big hurt/comfort possibilities maybe i think i think

they make them leave straight out of the hospital, him and wayne and one box of stuff each. they give them new names, a new place, set wayne up with a new job. but it’s not the same, nothing is, never will be. eddie has to cut his hair, thankfully not a buzz cut but he hasn’t had his curls sit above his ears in years. it’s the thing that makes his feel most strange, he thinks - not recognising himself in the mirror.

recovering physically took a long time, mentally, just as long. but eventually he needs to be around people again, needs money, a routine. the scoops job started as kind of a joke and then he realised it was the place he applied with the easiest commute and the owner was a really chill dude at the interview and then it really wasn’t a joke anymore. eddie worked a scoops ahoy. the pay is whatever but the work is fine and with wayne’s wage they more than get by and while it’s boring, it also kind of feels like breathing room, time to slow down and learn about himself again, after everything.

after a while eddie is actually kind of digging the sailor outfit, gives him an excuse to be kind of silly and get away with way more with customers that he should. like you can’t really get mad at him, not dressed like that, not when he still gets the orders right. it feels like a character, he’s the bard, the jester, and one day he’ll break free but for now - he enjoys the free icecream.

it started small, employees are allowed one item in break and he usually went for a soda, then that changed to a milkshake or a cone. and then one night he was closing and it was right by wayne’s birthday and there was a quarter of a tub set to be thrown out. and, well, eddie thought, why not take it home?

then the new monthly schedule comes out and since most of the part timers are younger and he has his (new) van it’s got him set to closing alone most shifts. fine by him, one hour of pay where he can blast his walkman while he cleans, best case scenario even.

he was also in charge of making sure the tubs were correctly filled ready for the openers and that meant throwing out the near empty ones. so near empty that that kid in eddie seems to rear up and remind him of all those times they couldn’t afford icecream, why let it go to waste? he always did have a sweet tooth.

so most nights his routine after work is to get home, have dinner with wayne, get high, watch some tv or read or listen to music and most notably polish off whatever ice cream and ‘only just out of date so still definitely good’ toppings he’s managed to squirrel home.

that last bit is notable because it’s been a year of working there, just under a year of this new routine, and eddie’s had to size up his once baggy uniform.

he’s kept definition in his legs and arms since his job is running around and scooping frozen shit. but now he’s padded with a layer of chub and his stomach is padded with a lot more than that, having bared the brunt. his cheeks have also rounded and his thighs and ass are honestly looking better than ever.

and with everything so new that’s been forced on him, this new at least feels like his. he knows how it happened, he’s not dumb, and yeah sometimes he ate just to wallow but he enjoyed every fucking bite of that ice-cream. and yeah he knows the red stripes that streak up his sides and push agains the waistband of his shorts aren’t everyone’s idea of desirable but, this is him now. everything else in his life is new, may as well have a new body to go with it. and to be honest he finally feels like he’s recognising himself in the mirror now. this new guy he’s had to become, there are ways that it’s still his.

but god does he miss everyone. not a day goes by he doesn’t think of home, his friends, his life, the people he almost died with. steve. so every night he gets high and eats ice cream and feels his belly swell that little bit more. sometimes he cries, sometimes he laughs but he’s alive and he has wayne and they’re safe. so every night he eats icecream.

-

steve moves to chicago with robin. he’s in school to be a physical therapist, robin studying italian. they moved just outside the city because it’s cheaper, a nice little neighbourhood. hes getting by, he works at a gym and helps with some of the classes, it’s decent pay and fun and he’s getting more and more days where that darkness feels far away, his rain cloud isn’t so thick. he’s doing it, surviving. living, even.

but, every day he misses eddie munson.

he’s out jogging when he spots it, taken a new route and made it to a strip of stores he didn’t know were there. with a scoops ahoy. just like summer of ‘83.

he laughs.

for old times sake and knowing robin will get a kick out of it he head in inside. thinks the 20 in his sock is more than enough to have spare for a tip that should brighten whatever kid is working the counter. surely they don’t still have the same unifo- nope, they do, and the guy at the counter looks much closer to steve’s age than the high schooler he expected. he’s cute. big eyes, nice hands.

-

eddie’s frozen. there’s a spectre in his store. steve’s staring at him. eddie’s stares at steve. eddie’s suddenly filled with anxious energy, unsure how to process what’s in front of him. tugs at his shirt out of habit, smooths the fabric down over the plush of his stomach, readjusts his hat that doesn’t need readjusting, bounces on his toes. what the fuck.

and eddie sees that steve doesn’t quite recognise him with his rounder features and shorter hair. he can’t wear his rings to work (they’re different, gold but still chunky) and, obviously steve’s never seen him dressed like this, also probably never imagined eddie would have a belly like that.

the second thing that registers in eddie, after the initial shock, is feeling his stomach drop out in fear. for wayne. for their place. for his job… for steve.

he doesn’t remember what the rules were about contact with his past. but he’s pretty sure there were rules on it.

but then something flickers across steve’s face, a flash of lightning, and he’s moving, leaning across the counter and enveloping eddie in a hug. ‘oh thank god.’ eddie hears steve breathe, strained and relieved and so full of emotion eddie feels his throat close and his eyes burn. steve’s here. eddie squeezes back and breaths deep, he smells like sweat and hairspray and home.

his steve is here.

and all eddie can do is cling back.

they’ll have to figure something out. he can’t let go of this again.

[1waywardbirdlane]

Unsolicited Lore Dump

tagged by @ancuninfiles , a beloved mutual

Do you make your bed? Occasionally when i’m tidying up and want everything to look nice & neat, but it’s not something I do habitually. 

Favourite number? 19. Not sure why

What's your job? I tell people I’m a homemaker. 

If you could go back to school would you? If I could go to a trade school, like for carpentry or welding or something, I would in order to build my skills and my art portfolio into larger scale and more intricate projects. I would maybe go to university. I would definitely love to learn more. I love being able to deep dive into a subject, to really learn the nuance & history of it. There’s definitely lots of subjects I’d be interested in, but if I were to actually devote that kind of time to school, I’d also want to have a goal in mind- a Masters or PHD or whatever.

Can you parallel park? Yep

Do you think aliens are real? I think it’s the height of arrogance to assume that there are no other sapient life forms in our whole universe. As much knowledge as we humans have accumulated, there are most definitely still things we cannot even perceive, let alone understand. Most media depicts “alien life forms” as largely humanoid, but that is so limiting and it drives me crazy. Of the films & TV I’ve seen, the film Arrival is the most unique and exciting depiction of alien encounters on earth. The creatures themselves were more imaginative, but also their concepts of language and time were presented in ways that felt fresh and caused a lot of introspection, both for characters on screen and for me personally.

Can you drive a manual car? No

What's your guilty pleasure? This is probably a terrible thing to say here, but fanfic? I still feel like I’m going to be teased if someone asks why I’m crying over my phone and I tell them the new chapter of my favorite fic came out and my ship had a huge fight. (Looking at you @Aevallare jk ilysm) Or if someone asks what I’m reading these days and the only answer I have is “so many Astarion/bg3 fanfics that I literally can’t keep the Tavs straight anymore.” I know I shouldn't feel embarrassed, and if anyone said all these things to me I’d tell them to be proud and just enjoy what they enjoy, fuck everybody else. But…I’ve realized I actually got teased a LOT about things I loved as a kid. My family would pick on me about what I realize now were hyperfixations, like a movie or certain activities that I seemed obsessed with. When I watched fellowship of the ring everyday one summer my brother would mockingly quote lines at me and tell me I needed to get over it. 

Tattoos? I have 2! A henna/paisley -like flower design on the inside of my left forearm and 3 sparrows flying from my right shoulder blade up to my neck. & plans for MANY more

Favorite color? Green. All of its shades and hues. Purple as a close second, especially lilac purple.

Favourite types of music? I think I have a very eclectic taste. I can appreciate most kinds of music, but… folk, indie rock/pop, grunge are probably the most accurate categories? I like female singer/songwriters- Ingrid Michaelson & Maggie Rogers. We’ve seen the Decemberists like 5 or 6 times, but probably my most favoritest band is Incubus. I’m convinced Hozier is some kind of magic Fae creature who fucks off to another realm or dimension between albums. I’ll fight anyone who tries to take a shot at Eddie Vedder. Bowie always puts me in a good mood and reminds me of college and Wes Anderson movies. Radiohead and the White Stripes were some of the first bands my sister introduced me to. The Flaming Lips’ Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and Lauryn Hill’s Miseducation of Lauryn Hill are still some of my favorite albums of all time. 

Do you like puzzles? Yes! It kind of runs in our family on my mom’s side. If you went to visit Grandma and Grandpa and they were having a quiet night, they'd be doing a puzzle and listening to music or watching a movie. My aunts and uncles do it, and so do a few cousins, and my sister & her family love them too. I can get lost for hours with a good podcast and a puzzle. 

Any phobias? I originally went on an ADHD tangent about bear bells and tip toeing to cliff edges, but then I realized the only phobia I probably have is deep water. I LOVE being in the water, water creatures and ecosystems, but if I think too much about what is possibly swimming around just below me I can get a little freaked out. Truthfully this might stem from a “game” my brother and sister played with me when we were little and our house had a pool. They were 11 and 10. Both of them had taken swim lessons, could swim underwater and jump in without holding their noses. I was 3 and had a bathing suit with a built in innertube. They would take turns diving under the water with their hands on their heads imitating fins and grab my ankles and yank me down. Obviously it scared me and they did it so much that I stopped going in the pool with them.

Favourite childhood sport? Soccer

Do you talk to yourself? Oh yeah. Sometimes I pass it off as if I’m talking to my cat, or one of my plants, but yes very much a lot.

What movies do you adore? The Lord of the Rings Trilogy is #1 for of all time. Nacho Libre is another all time favorite. What We Do in the Shadows, the John Wick movies, Fast & Furious movies, Mad Max Fury Road…

Coffee or tea? I love both but if I have to choose then COFFEEFirst thing you wanted to be growing up? Somewhere in my parents’ house there is an old video of me saying that when I grew up I wanted to be a princess or a mermaid.

Gunna tag all 10 of my followers lol. If you've already shared yours just ignore me lol.

@astarionancuntnin @midnight-musings-of-nyx @adoenamedjane @originalin @giganticrodent @shewhowas39 @halsinwhore @swancensus

I really love doing these!!

[super-cosmic-library]

The Fruity Four and Taylor Swift

okay, so i was thinking about grown up!fruity four and their opinions on Taylor Swift because I just love the fics where all of them getting to grow old together (shout out Eddie Munson Tiktok Saga), and they’ve got to have opinions on Taylor Swift.

I think we all agree that Steve has the most basic taste in music (affectionately). He listens to whatever is upbeat and popular and will get insanely defensive if people make fun of him. So I’d like to think that Steve is an og Swiftie. He has the aura of a longsuffering fan, and has definitely hopped to her defense in many a conversation with toxic dude bros (read: mostly Eddie and his friends who would playfully make fun of him, but he did get kicked out of a bar for throwing his drink--glass and all--at a stranger for saying she was a talentless slut). When she first stepped onto the scene, Steve would hum along to her singles on the radio on his commute to work. The first album of hers he bought was Fearless, after he heard “Love Story” play exactly once. He fell in love with the artist, and bought her debut album. He followed her career closely after that. (For a good month after Speak Now was released, Steve was dead set on playing songs from it at his and Eddie’s legal wedding, that wouldn’t be able to occur for another few years.)

Corroded Coffin (and Steve) were at the VMAs in 2009 when Kanye stole Taylor’s moment. Gareth and Jeff had to keep both Steve and Eddie from making a scene. Steve because she is his favorite artist (whom he isn’t sleeping with) and she very much deserved the award, and she’s just a kid! His mama bear instincts do not stop at his kids. Eddie because he’s always stood up against bullies. And even though they were all a part of the wealthy elite, no one’s moment should be stolen from them. Even though he knew Eddie didn’t get her music, Steve appreciated that he was just as outraged about the whole ordeal as him.

The next to follow was Nancy. Nancy has the widest taste in music out of the four of them. Growing up, she loved pop music like Steve, and would listen to classical music while studying. When she started spending time with Jonathan, she got into punk and grunge music. As Eddie cemented himself into the group, she opened up to metal, finding she really liked how loud and angry it was. With Argyle and Robin’s influence, she gained an appreciation for reggae, ska, jazz, and indie. She really just likes a little bit of everything.

Nancy came around after the release of Red. She had written an article about the VMAs for her publishers, but didn’t think much else about Taylor until she heard “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Natural journalistic inquiry led her to listening to more of her discography. Steve was ecstatic to finally share this interest with someone, as Eddie and Robin tend to be more pretentious about the music they enjoy, which annoys their partners to no end. Cue Nancy and Steve belting along to “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together” when in the car together.

Eddie didn’t give Taylor’s music a proper listen to until Reputation, and that’s only because Steve had mentioned that a lot of it was in response to the feud with Kanye and the negative attention the media gave her. While it wasn’t quite his taste, he admired the hell out of her for the album. His admiration only grew with her rerecording her masters. She was a total badass for that in his opinion. That’s when he decided to give the rest her music a chance. While he wouldn’t consider himself a Swiftie like Steve and Nancy, he finally understood what they liked about her music. Eddie made a habit of serenading “Hey Stephen” to Steve at random moments around their house--as he tended to do with any song that had Steve’s name in it. Steve doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that Eddie finally started listening to Taylor; however, every time Eddie started singing the all too familiar song, Steve’s cheeks would turn pink. At one point, Eddie convinced the rest of the band to do a rock cover of the song, and they played it at a show Eddie knew Steve would be in the audience for. 

Robin was the last to become a fan. Sure, she would enjoy it when Nancy put her music on. She especially enjoyed when Nancy would dance her around their kitchen to the slower songs. However, she didn’t make it a habit of listening to Taylor on her own. It just wasn’t the type of music she listened to, and that’s okay. Then Folklore and Evermore were released, and suddenly the singer was in Robin’s top artists of 2020, and she was the one leading Nancy in their kitchen waltzes. 

When the Eras tour was announced, Eddie used his industry connections to score the four of them tickets after TicketMaster had proven to be useless. Eddie, a lifelong fan of attending (and performing in) concerts, found he was more excited to watch Steve enjoy the music than watch the act himself. Robin, who still considered herself just a casual fan, was mostly looking forward to seeing girl in red’s opening set. Steve and Nancy, though? They came up with coordinating Lover inspired outfits. Pastel tye-died jean jackets, pink heart shaped sunglasses, a crop top for Steve. . . They were completely decked out. Eddie was torn between ogling Steve and being upset that he never dressed up this much for the Corroded Coffin shows he attended. In Steve’s defense, this was closer to his normal wardrobe. 

anyways, I think they all listen to her music to some capacity

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 21st January

Okay, we're definitely off running now, with our first new artist of 1960. We're still not sounding all that "60s" yet, though which I know is par for the course - the real 1960s sound won't arrive for a few years, yet - but it's still annoying me a little, I'll confess. Oh, well. I can enjoy these songs on their own merits, I'm sure.

Starry Eyed - Michael Holliday (peaked at Number 1)

Well, we start here with something genuinely cool, a sort of reverb-laden bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bit of backing vocals. Which, written out, doesn't look cool at all, but there's something about the echo of it, and the subtle castanet sound that they've put in the background that I quite like. It's near - nice to see studio effects becoming more and more prominent.

Then Michael's coming in, and the lyrics, I have to say, are pretty lame. I don't think it helps that they're delivered as a sort of slightly sleepy sigh - a passionate performance, this ain't, even as Michael's asking himself why am I so starry eyed, / Starry eyed and mystified? He's just stunned, that's how deep he is in love. In fact, his love is such that he's convinced that I'm in love / With an angel from above, leading him to spout some rather hyperbolic lines about how when we touch I hear angels sing, / when we kiss I hear wedding bells ring. Et cetera, et cetera. Pleasant, romantic stuff, I guess, if a little sappy.

I do appreciate how the "wedding bells" comment recontextualises the bom bom bom bits, which then recur through the second half, as bells. Because yeah, there is something a bit church bell-like about them. More generally, I find the backing singers here quite charming, in a sort of vintage, dated way. And there's some nice guitar peeking through, too, that sort of shimmery, reverb-heavy electric guitar that we seem to be hearing quite a lot at the moment. It's a sound I associate with more instrumental rock, in the mould of the Shadows, or possibly even surf music, but it works nicely here, if you're listening for it.

And in all of this, we've got the hand of a producer we've already heard from, but who we'll be noticing more and more as the 1950s turn into the 1960s, one Norrie Paramor. Most known for being Cliff's producer - though the term used at the time was apparently "repertoire manager" - Norrie also produced music for Ruby Murray, Eddie Calvert, Frankie Vaughan and yes, Michael Holliday, among others. Meaning that we've heard a whole bunch of his music, already. He was established way back before the rock and roll era, having risen to a fairly senior position at EMI by 1952, and so he was a sort of bridge, allowing new British rock and rollers to rise up through the ranks, often with a slightly softer, more "easy listening" sound than their American counterparts. So yes. Expect to hear more from this guy.

Way Down Yonder in New Orleans - Freddy Cannon (3)

And then, with all the energy and bite that Michael didn't have, it's Freddy Cannon, with a proper rocker of a song all about the delights awaiting you in the New Orleans, where you'll find a new Garden of Eden ah, you know what I mean. And then he briefly sketches out a city of creole babies with flashing eyes, and beautiful queens, ready to show you heaven on earth. At this point, I more than half suspect that this is a song about prostitutes. Not that I can find confirmation of that anywhere, so take it with a pinch of salt, but, I mean... c'mon! Listen to the song!

It's an old song, originally, dating back to 1922, and subtitled originally as "A Southern Song, without A Mammy, A Mule, Or A Moon", which was apparently a dig at some common Tin Pan Alley stereotypes when writing songs about the American south. It was then incorporated into a Broadway musical, Spice of 1922, which sounds like it was, indeed, spicy, with silhouettes of nude models in an artist's studio and scenes set in the actual Garden of Eden, with a very scantily clad Eve. So, uh, yeah, we're not quite beating those allegations of it being a song about a brothel.

In any case, Freddy livens the song up considerably, adding in a thundering rock and roll piano backing, then throwing in a bunch of vigorous whoops and yeahs that give a real sense of rambunctious fun to it all. Later on, you also get a full-on brass section coming in, which was apparently a first for a rock and roll record at the time. And I haven't even mentioned the best bit yet, which is the moment, repeated twice, where the whole song stops - on the word "stop", naturally - and Freddy sings a few lines a cappella, accompanied only by what sounds like somebody knocking rapidly on a hollow box, this driving jack-rabbit thump of a beat. It's thrilling, and keeps the listener on their toes as the texture of the song swings abruptly from full-on to something much sparser, only for all the instruments to come back a moment later. Very satsifying, and very fun.

This is the only Freddy Cannon song we're going to see - he had a few other hits, but none of them made the Top 10. That said, he does get some extra credit a month or two after this single came out for being first rock and roll artist to top the UK albums chart, with the album this track was from, The Explosive Freddy Cannon. Which, respect where respect is due, is a really banging name for an album. Until this point, the UK album charts look to have been a pretty boring affair, definitely much less interesting than the singles charts, due, possibly, to the prominence of singles. Fewer artists were making albums, especially when it came to pop and rock and roll artists. As such, the charts seem to have been absolutely dominated by musical soundtracks - the soundtrack to South Pacific, in particular, topped the chart on the 2nd November 1958 and was only displaced when Freddy's came onto the scene on the 6th March 1960. Yes, you read that right. The album before Freddy's held the top spot for over a year. Man, the charts were weird in the 1950s.

As I said, I don't mind either of these. Both have a very different vibe, both just in terms of genre, and in terms of the attitude they take - one's all innocence and wedding bells, while I'm still half-convinced that the other's about the seamier side of the Big Easy. Clearly both were tapping into something that the record-buying British public wanted to hear, though. Michael does it through Norrie Paramor's careful steering, Freddy through the sheer enthusiasm he brings to his music. Not bad, either way.

Favourite song of the bunch: Way Down Yonder in New Orleans

[thembohux]

Idk if this will serve as inspo BUT I’ve been meaning to ask, Lita I need to know how much of an Oingo Boingo fan Layla is and all about her exposing Eddie to them!!

Ok so the “Layla listens to Oingo Boingo” thing started as a joke with my wife because I listened to Dead Man’s Party on loop one day and I thought it would be funny if Layla did it. The first few months after it comes out, it’s all she listens to while driving. None of her friends want to drive places with her because of it.

She’s definitely more of a casual listener. Her preferences fall more within classical and romantic era music.

Whenever Eddie tries introducing her to new music (he makes mixtapes for her. Romantic ones and also ones with music he thinks she should listen to), she counters by having him listen to some of her music. Which is the most unhinged collection of songs. It goes from Dvorak to Fleetwood Mac to Tchaikovsky to Oingo Boingo back to Dvorak to the Scorpions to Queen and circles back to Fleetwood Mac again.

It’s musical whiplash and everything on her mixtapes catches him off guard but ESPECIALLY Oingo Boingo because he doesn’t know WHO introduced her to them. He is adamant he doesn’t enjoy it but he is going to be headbanging when certain songs come on. And he does appreciate Dead Man’s Party when it comes to saving her from Vecna

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Ok I’ve never done a request but it’s stuck in my head and I can’t write. Eddie Munson would absolutely melt if he was laying in your lap and you started playing with his hair🫠

SCREAMING CRYING!!!😭😭😭All day at work today, I was thinking about this. I daydreamed away the entire shift, spent it all with Eddie, and I did my best to remember everything I was thinking of!💖

Summary: Sometimes, Eddie just has to turn the music off, shut his bedroom door, and let himself cry. Being the freak doesn’t bother him most of the time, but every now and then, it all gets to be too much. With your fingers in his hair and his body against yours, Eddie knows he’ll be okay. Someday.

Contains: reader comforts Eddie, Eddie crying, fluff, canon angst (bullying; Jason versus Eddie), nicknames (honey, sweetie, etc.)

I listened to and had Solitude by Black Sabbath in my head as I wrote this; the feeling of that song is what inspired and prompted this piece (as well as the request itself - thank you so much for being my first one!)💔

(On another note, I couldn't believe this is Ozzy singing but all my research says it is - they added a delayed effect to his voice so it sounded like there were two. He sounds so different to the Ozzy I know, but it makes me love the song even more. It's so melancholy but soothing and that's the vibe I wanted for this piece).

Word count: 3, 198.

Tagging @the-slasher-madame @alliecheer007-88 @moonlighteeve @sabbathsworld @spencestyles @eddiebunson

And a big thank you to @gemstone-roses for reading this over and helping me with the ending! I just don't know when to shut up😂

At school, Eddie was the personification of a hurricane. He was loud, chaotic, unafraid to stand atop a table and make some noise. He was always right in what he said, but the way he delivered those truths left much to be desired for the majority of the school population.

Only you and the other members of Hellfire Club truly appreciated the words, the theatrics, the way Eddie liked to deflect attention away from the kids he mentored by making himself the centre of attention; it was so seamless a display of protection that even the kids themselves missed it sometimes.

But you saw Eddie's actions for what they were, you heard his speeches for what he was really saying, and you knew and loved Eddie as no one but you and his uncle got to see him.

Not just the way he behaved at school, but also the way he truly was.

Eddie was... soft.

There was a notable edge to him, to be sure - he wasn't afraid to play into his reputation when he needed to, and he definitely wasn't afraid to get violent. He had a switchblade with a sharp tongue to match, though words were his preferred weapon. His voice became high pitched when he was pissed off or scared, he complained about things and swore about them the whole time but he did them anyway because he knew it was what was right. You saw bravery in his mundane. He sewed patches onto his own jacket, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He would look up towards the ceiling to take deep breaths when he pricked himself, calming himself down before he carried on; wanting the end result no matter what it personally cost him. He got excited when he saw stray cats in the trailer park, he did as many chores for his uncle as he could between having to wake up for school and his uncle coming home from the night shift. He listened to you and his friends, supported and encouraged those who needed it, helped those who were too scared to ask him for help. Gave people a place to sit when no one else would let them, gave Dustin all the time in the world to say what he wanted to say, even and especially when others got impatient with the little shrimp.

Eddie was strong, resilient, sweet, charming, intelligent, creative, passionate, truly such a good person; beautiful inside and out...

And incredibly sensitive.

You saw the act which Eddie played into when he was at school and you loved him for his eccentricity. He owned it and encouraged others to do the same. You saw the man who worked hard at his music, who worked hard to make his clothes his. The man who sold drugs at a higher price than they actually were but only to people who were mean to him. Kind people got a discount. Friends often got drugs for a steal, or he wouldn't charge them at all. It wasn't the best way to make money, but Eddie did it anyway, just so that he could better help Wayne with the bills and upkeep of the trailer. In short, Eddie did the best with what he had and you admired him strongly for that.

But what you admired him for the most was the way in which, when the hour was right, when the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky bled into purple and dark blue hues, Eddie dropped it all and showed the rawest parts of himself to anyone who cared enough to look, to really look.

A part of you found that, the darker Eddie's mood, the more beautiful he became. Perhaps it was in the heartache with which you watched him, or maybe it was because you knew how precious a soul he was and only you got to see him when the world had forced him to his knees, or maybe it was just because you knew he was safe with you, just as you were safe with him. He was so, so pretty, even in his pain, and somehow did you only love him more.

You watched as he paced around the kitchen area of the trailer, going in a full circle before moving through the living space and down the long corridor towards his bedroom. He punched lightly at the door, then spun on his heel, dark hair flying like lightning, and repeated the circuit. He was muttering to himself, dark eyes staring at the ceiling or out the window or down at the floor. Not at you. If he looked at you, he'd crack, and he didn't want to crack. So he didn't look.

He just kept pacing back and forth, back and forth, trying to work out his energy, getting more and more aggravated by the circuit.

He was on his thirteenth one before you intervened, your concern simply too great and your want to help him even greater.

"Eddie?"

A non-committal grunt as Eddie spun past you.

"Eddie."

A faster circuit, a harder punch on the bedroom door, he came back through the kitchen, swore under his breath, turned -

"Eddie!"

He stopped dead. A shuddering breath. Dark eyes looked through you. Swimming with too many thoughts to listen to, words too small to matter but cutting him up all the same, screaming inside his head. Too much too much too much too much -

Eddie put his hands over his face, his shoulders bowing inwards as he cried. He sniffled, didn't make much noise, but he was all you could hear. Great heaving breaths picked up and Eddie followed his body's movements down, down, 'til the world literally and metaphorically had him on his knees, sobbing on the kitchen floor in the trailer.

"Oh, honey," you cooed as you immediately stood, walking over to Eddie. You didn't run or make your urgency physically known; you didn't want to spook him. You hadn't ever seen him like this; never before had he allowed you to see him totally shatter. "Oh, sweetie, deep breaths," you bent slowly, giving him plenty of time to move away, but Eddie gave no indication that he even knew you were there.

How many times had he ended up here and been left all on his own?

How many times had he scraped himself up off the kitchen floor?

How many times had he pulled himself together, hands swiping across wet cheeks as he suppressed sniffles, not wanting to worry his uncle or friends?

How many times had he completely moved through his upset, coming into school like it was no big deal, and no one noticed?

How many times had he screamed for help inside his head, paralysed by his emotions, and unable to voice them to anyone, so he had suffered silent and alone? All the while begging to be seen, heard, helped, loved?

How many times?

The seemingly endless possibilities made you feel sick and you swore there and then that this was the first of every time that you would be there for Eddie, just as he always was for you, no matter any personal cost.

You rubbed his back in slow movements, your hand firm against the softer material of the Dio logo cut off an old band shirt and lovingly stitched onto the back of the denim jacket he had personalised himself. "I've got you, Eddie, I'm here, you're not alone." You blinked hard against the stinging of tears in your eyes and made a concerted effort to focus on Eddie. If he saw you cry at all, let alone for him, then he would forget himself in the face of tending to you, and you didn't want him to do anything other than to feel his own feelings. He had a lot of them and they needed to come out just as they were.

Sobs turned to sniffles but Eddie still didn't look at you. That was okay, you were content to let him take his time. As best as you could, you angled your hands so you could dash tears away from his cheeks. Eddie flinched away when your thumb got too close to his eye and you bit back a smile; he was reacting to you, so he was beginning to come around. That was a good sign.

Fuck, but the way he whimpered before he raised his head to look at you, his dark eyes pools of melted galaxies and stars, burned out before their time but still trying to reach someone with their light. "I know you do." A hoarse whisper. He sniffed harshly, "I feel pretty fucking far from okay, Y/N."

Sweet boy. He made your heart bleed.

Eddie ran a hand over his tear-stained, damp face, shaking his head. He seemed as though he was trying to physically remove his thoughts from his mind, get to feeling better. No one ever got to see Eddie Munson cry. He kept that part of him hidden from the world, but you were his world and now his walls were crumbling down, so fast that it made the both of you dizzy. You were practically frantic in your want to comfort him, to help him. His dark curls brushed lightly across the strong slopes of his shoulders and you tucked some strands behind his ears, wanting to see him. As your fingers ran through his hair, catching on minute tangles, Eddie's eyes slipped closed and he tilted into your touch like a cat. He took a deep breath, pure instinct, and pushed back against your hand. No, not pushing... nuzzling.

“What's the matter, Eddie? You can talk to me; you're safe here with me, I promise. I've got you.”

Eddie sniffled again and you kept playing with his hair; full strokes from his hairline down, down, to the very tips, your fingers gentle, slow. Trying to love him as he deserved... so intensely that he didn't know what to do with himself. You gave him the space and the time to come to you; if he spoke, wonderful. If he didn't, that was okay too. Whatever he wanted. You just wanted to be there for him while what happened, happened. You moved out of the crouching position and sat cross legged before him, getting yourself comfortable.

“Do – do you believe the - “ Eddie whimpered again and you made a soft noise, something between an “oh” and an “awh” as you sought to comfort him, not wanting to interrupt but needing to acknowledge that you were there with him, fully present in the moment and your every nerve fixed on him. “The stuff they say about me?” Freak. Devil worshipper. Cult leader. Never gonna graduate. Waste of space.

“Oh, honey, no. I don't believe anything they say. How could I? They don't know you. But I do. I know you and I love you, Eddie. So much and for so many different things it makes me dizzy sometimes.”

Eddie's dark eyes looked at you fully for the first time and your next breath caught in your throat at how filled with pain his face was. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his bottom lip bitten to all hell as he had worried at it with his teeth. His tongue was probably sore, too, from having bitten back scathing remarks all day. Even when being mean and scary would have been easiest option, to treat others as they treated him, Eddie was only ever kind. He had a darker streak, it was true, and there were numerous times he had delivered below the belt punches with his words, but those were times in which he had had to be mean. A cornered animal would only take so much before it attacked.

“You're none of those things, Eddie, you're - “ Here, you hesitated. Did he want to hear what you wanted to say? Was it right to vent about him to him when he was feeling like this? Or would it be welcomed? What if -

Fingers spidered across your knee, squeezed. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Together, right?”

Oh, help you. Your heart bled even as you nodded in agreement – there he was sobbing on the kitchen floor, trying to encourage you to open up to him. Even in his pain, he was so kind and it made you want to cry for him, because of him.

“It's just... they're so wrong about you, Eddie. They don't see you for who you are. Not the patience you give Dustin when he rambles for five minutes just to say what's effectively one sentence, not the kind way you mentor people who have no one else to sit with, not the way you taught me how to play D&D just so I could sit with the rest of Hellfire and feel included, not the way you try so hard with the things you're passionate about. Like your guitar, your campaigns, your jacket... it took you weeks to make it just as you wanted it. They see what they want to see and they believe what they want to; judging you without even trying to know you, and that's their loss. You're nothing like what they say, Eddie, please, I - “ you ran your fingers through Eddie's hair, and again his eyes fluttered shut and he melted into your touch, “I love you so much for who you are, in those moments when it seems like everyone's watching but no one's looking, in those moments when you're playing up to the persona they think you are, in those moments when you're crying alone. You're not a freak, or a cult leader, or anything else. You're you and you're... fuck, you're so beautiful, Eddie.”

Silence. Eddie, processing. You, waiting. Supporting. Patient, caring. Loving.

Finally, after what seemed like forever but was probably only a few minutes, Eddie sniffled and exhaled through his mouth before he stood up, your hands falling to your sides. He looked down but not at you and held out his hand. Your fingers widened so that you could slide them between Eddie's and he gave you a tired, sad smile as he pulled you up to stand with him. You followed him, already knowing what he wanted, and you were the first to clamber up on the double bed. You laid down flat on your back, eyes fixed on Eddie. He looked as bad as he felt, you were sure, and it made your heart ache. He didn't come towards you immediately; he was... hesitant? Sometimes you had a little trouble reading him, but you knew how kind and tender-hearted he was, and you used that to guide you. Eddie just needed to be loved in moments like this more than anything else.

“Oh, c'mere,” Fuck, but you almost cooed as you raised your hands, arms slightly away from your sides, “take what you need from me, pretty boy.” You tried to keep your voice as soft as you could without dipping into the volume of a whisper. You wanted Eddie to stay in his vulnerability, to feel safe in being open and raw with you. You knew he was still processing your monologue and he would address it when he felt like he had the right words to say. Eddie took emotional situations like this seriously; about as seriously as he took Hellfire. His passions and his devotions were one and the same. It was one of the many things you admired and loved about him.

Eddie almost stumbled over to the foot of the bed as he clambered up with the same grace through which he stepped up on lunch tables, his body crawling up the bed until he could let himself gently collapse. Even like this, even almost unaware of himself, Eddie was still considerate, making sure to watch bony elbows and knees as he laid atop you. He wasn't happy or comfortable if you weren't. His face pushed into the warm crook of your neck as his arms slid in the gap between your back and the mattress, his fingers wiggling and rings digging into your back. You pulled up, helping him, and Eddie sighed in content as he hugged you to him, his dark curls tickling your chin. His sigh was thick with tears both shed and unshed, his body a weight against your own which seemed to bleed heat. Your hands found purchase in his hair, fingers scratching at Eddie's scalp.

“You're so beautiful, Eddie.”

You felt Eddie turn his head, pushing his face against your skin. A dry but soft, painfully gentle mouth peppered the skin there with kisses. Trying to convey his overwhelming emotions with words he just didn't have; too highly strung. Too tired. “Do you - “ Eddie sniffled, his voice cracking at the start of the next word. You almost didn't hear him. “Did you mean all that, what you said back there?”

You kept stroking his hair, root to tip in soothing motions, fingers carefully and gently manually undoing any tangles you encountered. There weren't many; Eddie took good care of himself. “Every word, beloved.”

Your tone left no room for argument and Eddie made a soft noise, something between an “oh” and a “hm” as he squeezed you tight, pressing every plane of his body against your own. He couldn't get close enough but you didn't shush him or tell him it was okay; you gave him nothing like that. You simply remained quiet, let him take what he needed from you, and you matched his energy as best as you could. You kept stroking his hair, playing with the ends as you felt him melt into you; you were as stable beneath him as the mattress was beneath you and you refused to so much as shift your weight. You didn't want Eddie thinking that you were uncomfortable; he was so vulnerable and you wanted to be the solid ground which his proverbial feet were missing.

You couldn't have known that simply by being who you were, you were already all of that for him and more.

Eddie squeezed you again and then in one big exhale, he physically relaxed and you could feel from the lack of tension in his shoulders that he had just let the whole day go; you admired how he was able to do that. When Eddie decided not to let something bother him any more, it no longer did. Sometimes he just needed a little help getting to that point, and that was more than okay. He was so brave, so strong, so stubborn.

“I love you so fucking much, sweetheart.” Eddie's face rubbed at your neck, back and forth, like a cat headbutting the hand pulling away from its head because it wasn't done yet, and warmth bloomed in your chest. It burned until all you could do was lay there and smile into Eddie's crown.

He was feeling better.

“I love you too, Eddie. The sanest of them all.”

[havocskies]

EDDIE MUNSON / LITTLE SISTER! READER HCS

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

if you have the same music taste as him expect him to be talking abt it ALL THE TIME

like seriously the only people who enjoy the same music as him is his band and most of hellfire, he's gonna grab you by the throat from your room and you WILL appreciate some iron maiden and possibly some quiet riot as well

loves to take you to his gigs at the bar no matter how old you are. ofc if you're under 21 he's gonna try his best to keep an eye on you but this dude's ego is through the roof when it comes to his guitar playing and occasional singing so basically as his little sister you have to witness how cool your older brother is

even if you don't share his taste in music or clothing he'll make you a battle jacket or give you one of his old ones that doesn't fit anymore (just pretend like it doesn't smell like weed and whatever else he uses)

annoying. absolutely ruthless. comes into your room just to talk abt the most stupid thing that you don't even care abt. he's probably worse when it comes to gossiping than the popular kids at hawkins

being eddie's sister you probably wouldn't have the best reputation automatically. he's definitely aware and while he doesn't show negative emotions much he feels bad and tries to make it up to you in little gifts or by taking you places. he's determined to prove he's a better brother than what everyone else makes him out to be

doesn't let you touch his guitar but if you showed enough interest in it he'd get some money and surprise you w one of his own. he'd be so proud too, he'd probably want you to join his band and come with him on his gigs

brags about you all the time. you're the best little sister he's ever had (you two are the only siblings) and he wouldn't trade you for the world. even so he'd manage to throw in a little sibling like insults as well

remember when i said he loves to annoy you? yeah. take that to the full extent. if he could he'd likely throw you over his shoulder whenever you begin annoying him or he just feels like it. probably throws you on the couch or whatever wouldn't be likely to give you a concussion. he's not THAT bad of a person

loves discussing music with you even if you don't share his music taste. he'll barge into your room and force you to listen to a random song that he might've found or just likes in general and you WILL listen, even if he has to hold you down in order to do so

fights all. the. time. most of the time he's probably the one starting it simply bc he lives off of annoying people and making them uncomfortable, it's something he loves to do. as your older brother he knows ALL of your buttons and how to annoy you and he uses that to his full advantage whenever he wants to get his way.

holds the fact that he's older over your head all the time no matter how much older he is. he takes pride in it and obviously that means he's superior, so that last bit of icecream in the fridge? it's his automatically. you don't get it.

doesn't want you to end up like him when it comes to his reputation and addiction. he doesn't care abt what people think of him but he wants you to have a relatively normal life. he picked this reputation for himself, you didn't deserve it, too. if he ever overheard someone talking bad about you he'd immediately step in and insist you're WAY better than him, even if you actually aren't. he'll defend you forever

if you also play dnd he'd drag you to hellfire meetings as well (once you're older. the earliest age he'd actually let you tag along is probably 14 since hanging out w freshmen is something he does fairly often) he'd say that the hellfire meetings are serious and little kids aren't allowed. he'd still teach you how to play as soon as you were old enough to understand what he was saying, though

even though he's failed highschool 2 times already he is an absolute nerd, specifically when it comes to language arts. he was probably in a few honors english classes in his earlier years of highschool and when he eventually started caring about school less he stopped getting put into them. he loves to read and often tries to suggest books he likes to you as well

he'd try his best to help you w homework because even though he can't graduate he will certainly make sure you do. he's not the best at math and didn't care much for history but he'd try his best to help regardless if you asked him to

he likely wore eyeshadow and eyeliner in middle school and possibly his earlier high school years so he would in fact LOVE to do your makeup, thanks for asking. he definitely has a few pictures of your younger toddler self in heavy terrifying makeup because he thought it was absolutely hilarious to make you into a metalhead, and not knowing any better you would notice eddie laughing and decide you found it funny, too. uncle wayne was indifferent

doesn't talk abt your dad often if you're too young to remember when he was around. you may have heard eddie and uncle wayne talking about him and asked and both's faces contorted into a sort of sour expression. they tried their best not to talk abt him around you after that

if you were somehow popular and managed to get over the little reputation that was oh so generously handed over to you by the upperclassmen eddie wouldn't quite hate you for it. you're still his sister of course and a high school status wasn't going to change his view of you. he will definitely still tease you over it, though and occasionally ask for you to give your friends a good word on his behalf

his van is MESSY. like seriously, it's horrible. covid 19 probably originated in that very same van. his definition of cleaning the front seat for you is throwing trash in the back so it's at least able to be sat in but it reeks in there

loved to give you piggyback rides when you were younger and even older if it's possible. he'd definitely scare you a few times by pretending to almost drop you or body slamming you into the nearest couch but he'd be a very good older brother when it came to attention

if you were in the hellfire club he'd tease you even more relentlessly and the other boys would likely pick up on it at some point, but he'd insist he and only him could bully you. you were his sister after all, not theirs

if you ever dated anyone from the hellfire club he'd be a little against it at first as he wasn't quite sure how his friends would treat a girlfriend (they're all awkward guys that get no girls, let's be real) but if he realized you were happy w whoever you chose he wouldn't mind at all. he'd be glad one of his friends finally got a girl for once, even if it was his sister

if it was someone he didn't know however it'd be a different story. he knows how guys can be and he doesn't want you going through anything bad at all, he'd live up to his little reputation of possibly being a murderer if anything at all happened to you

if you got a girlfriend or any other kind of partner however he'd be a little shocked but he'd support you regardless. i personally hc him as omnisexual w a preference for men so he'd let you in on his little secret of being a boy kisser and insist there's NOTHING wrong w you for liking any gender other than guys

same goes for if you're trans. while he can't personally relate he obviously loves you no matter what and will support you forever

loves to tease you randomly and give you mean nicknames. it's just what siblings do, as he says, and since he's older he can do whatever he wants obviously

when you first get into high school he tries his best to give you tips on whatever you need to know. he learned the hard way high school sucks unless you're popular, which you likely wouldn't be just by being his brother in general. you associate w eddie you're unpopular, that's just basically how it works

he'd also automatically give you the option of at least hanging around the hellfire club just so you have some friends if you didn't already. he'd recommend whoever was closest to your age to be your best friend and honestly you'd probably be their best friend, they're all very welcoming when it comes to unpopular people and you're also eddie's sister, so you're automatically pretty cool

IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE SHOW THIS SOME LOVE !!!!

[lavendertales]

Downtown—Eddie Brock x f!reader**

summary: Eddie isn’t that fond of parties. But he might just start appreciating them more after this one.

word count: 2.1k

WARNINGS: (kind of) exhibition, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, Eddie is kinda cocky but we love to see it, established relationship.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: I rewatched the first Venom and couldn’t stop thinking about needy and impatient Eddie, so... here, a treat for you. don’t ask me where Venom is lmao I just had to get this out of my brain.

Truth be told, Eddie isn’t much of a party man.

He loves to go with you to events though because, well, you ask so nicely and he can never resist those doe eyes. Even if he winds up spending most of his evening answering questions from strangers about his field of work, questions ranging from logical and curious to downright bizarre, Eddie goes because he gets to spend more time with you.

And he loves seeing you dance and drink and have a good time. He cares immensely about you and your happiness is therefore his.

Tonight, as you and Eddie arrive to your friends’ party, he smiles seeing you greet each and every one of them. Happiness is definitely your best look.

Well. One of them, anyway.

Perhaps his all-time favorite look of yours is ecstasy. Sheer pleasure brought by the intimacy igniting in between you and him. Your moans, the way your body opens up to his and the filthy canvas they paint together… it’s numbing, really, the amount of emotions and sensations that rush through Eddie’s body when the two of you get your chance at privacy.

And tonight you don’t spare him either. You are ever the temptress, wearing one of your favorite dresses, knee-high and curve-friendly. Eddie finds himself with a beer in his hand, listening to a guy’s story about some one night stand, staring at you dancing with your girlfriends. He’s solely focused on the way your body sways to the music and his head starts to spin, having nothing to do with the alcohol in the slightest.

“He must’ve been a real dick, huh?”

Suddenly brought back with his feet on the ground, Eddie stares bewildered at the guy he was supposedly having a conversation with, realizing he failed to hear a single word coming out of his mouth. He shakes his head and frowns, slightly embarrassed at that.

“Yeah,” Eddie repeats like a robot. “Yeah, a real dick.”

The guy huffs with a goofy smile on his face as if Eddie had just confirmed a theory of his. “Figures. No one has an impeccable reputation.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

Eddie catches your gaze as you approach him. The look on your face appears somewhat distressed and it worries him for a fraction of second.

“Hey,” you tell him with a shy smile. “Haven’t really seen you since we got here.”

“We were just chatting, me and—my man here, about—“

“Carlton Drake being a dick,” the guy said proudly.

Hand on his shoulder, Eddie smiled politely and prayed that his disassociation would go unnoticed still.

“Appropriate party conversation,” you joke.

“It was great talking to you, man,” Eddie tells the guy and shakes his hand. “I’ll catch up with you later maybe, alright?”

“Yeah, sure thing! Gotta spend some time with your girl, gotcha!”

They both smile and nod at each other; Eddie waits until the guy vanishes into the crowd before he finally faces you with a relieved smile.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“No idea. He just walked up to me and started talking about… stuff. I may have zoned out in the first five minutes.”

You chuckle and lean into him, hands barely touching his chest, and you shiver.

You haven’t really taken your eyes off Eddie since the moment you arrived. You couldn’t help it: there was something about tonight and about him that drove you absolutely insane, sparking a wild desire inside of you. He chose to wear a black shirt with the first three buttons down and boy, it was tempting enough.

You lock eyes with him and gulp, running your hand all over his chest and feeling him tighten under your touch.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, eyeing you up and down.

“Nothing. You just… you look so good.”

He raises his brows in surprise, as if he’s never heard that before. Something about it both entices you and breaks your heart.

But truthfully, at the moment, your eyes linger on his chest, his neck and his lips, his plush, soft and pink lips that you love to devour each chance you get. You’d get right on it if it wasn’t for the crowd of people, so you fight your inner instincts and try to be civil, but on the inside, Eddie promises no such thing.

His hand moves teasingly lower so that you feel it going from your hips to your back, resting just beneath your ass. You stifle a small gasp, eyes still locked on his figure, now sporting a playful expression. You loved that about him; his energy reminded you of a puppy’s, eager to play if he was in the right mood.

And it seems the mood has been set.

“God, you’re so pretty,” you whisper only for him to hear.

He chuckles. You have his undivided attention, just as always, but this feels different. This feeling right here, residing in between the two of you, it’s explosive and taunting you both.

“I haven’t been able to stop staring at you since we got here,” you continue as if stuck in a trance. And perhaps you are. Utterly charmed by the stunning and wonderful man before you.

“Too bad there’s people around,” he says, staring shamelessly at your lips.

“Why?”

Eddie leans in enough for his warm breath to tickle your earlobe as he whispers, “We could have fun.”

Simple as that. No innuendo, nothing. Simple, yet explicit enough for you to tremble with excitement and arousal alike.

You cough, feeling tingly the more you stare at Eddie and you’re left wishing you were at home instead. But truthfully, the whole allure of the moment is its forbiddingness.

So you surrender with ease when Eddie grabs your hand and guides the both of you to a more private area that wasn’t—hopefully—infested with others. With a quick glance around, Eddie sneaks both of you in the women’s restroom, making sure the door is secured behind you.

The look he throws you is sinful in itself; you’ve grown accustomed and oh so fond of needy, impatient Eddie. He truly is the epitome of attractiveness and sweetness, a lethal combination that has yet to kill you.

He doesn’t tell you a single word, yet you know exactly by his facial expression and movements what’s about to happen. A shiver runs down your spine, electrifying and bold as Eddie moves towards you and practically smashes his lips onto yours, engaging in a sloppy, passionate make-out session that has you weak in the knees. Your hands automatically wrap around his neck, pulling him with a lust-driven force.

Eddie’s the one who breaks the kiss only for a quick draw of breath and to pull up your dress enough to get a good look at the underwear you’re wearing. Black and lacy, the kind that gets his heart thrumming in his chest and his pants tighten at the mere thought. 

“Shit, babe…” his voice trails off, mind in shambles and mouth dry at the sight.

He lifts you onto the countertop and you bite on your lower lip, closely watching his fingers reach in between your legs, caressing your most sensitive spot through the material. You gasp as silently as you can, and Eddie chuckles.

“The music is so loud, no one’s gonna hear a thing,” he reassures you, reading your thoughts.

“Still, I don’t think there should be screams at a party.”

“Screams?”

He smiles widely, the words clearly having tickled his ego a tad overboard. But you both know you’re a quivering mess when he’s with you. There’s no need for reassurance in that manner.

“You know I can’t really be quiet,” you tell him in a rather shy murmur.

“How so?”

You slap his arm playfully. He knows damn well what gets you going and how to get you there, but he also loves teasing. This is no exception.

“Our friends will notice we’re gone,” you seemingly complain.

“Then I guess we’d better get to it, huh?”

You nod, anticipating. You’re shivering just thinking of having him inside of you in such a spot, such a moment, with the sultry R&B music playing so loudly in the background.

To your surprise though, Eddie removes your panties and spreads your legs further and he buries his head in between them, peppering tender kisses on the inside of your thighs. Your hands automatically go to the edge of the granite countertop, pressing down on them so hard your knuckles turn white. Mouth agape, nearly chocking on thin air, you tremble as Eddie’s tongue starts lapping at your folds, eating you alive.

You catch an accidental glare in the mirrors in front of you and moan and chuckle at the same time. The sight of Eddie’s face buried in between your legs and straight up drinking every ounce of juice he can collect is so filthy it makes your face turn crimson, burning and aching just as much as your pussy.

You start saying Eddie’s name like a lustful prayer, one reserved solely for his ears, and the slurping noises coming from in between your legs, paired with the visualization of the entire scene, are simply the most obscene and arousing things you have ever lived in your life.

“F-Fuck, Eddie—oh—“

A pair of blue-green eyes stare at you and you crumble instantly. The chunky gold ring on Eddie’s index is cool against your bud as he inserts it in you, curling it, all the while turning around to have a good look at the imagery behind him.

“God, you look… so damn good like this,” he says with a wicked smile on his face, delirious from the pleasure just as much as you.

He presses endless kisses on your clit as his index curls at various angles, aiming for that one spot that sets your pleasure centers off. Your moans are relentless and you find yourself unable to look away from the mirror as your hand curls into Eddie’s hair, grabbing a fistful. You try to move forward to meet with more of his mouth but the granite is cold against your ass and you’re vaguely aware of the time limit. You’re not sure. Everything else aside Eddie’s mouth is a blur.

Eddie plunges his tongue straight into your folds again, earning a louder moan from your side. His index has long abandoned your pussy, sadly, but you feel his strong hands grabbing the flesh of your ass to pull you in, as if that was his own attempt at having you somehow on his face. There never seemed to be enough of you, not even when he was buried inside of you to the hilt – literally balls deep, when there was no space left for him to thrust into, Eddie still craved more of you, as is it the case now.

“Oh—oh, Eddie, I’m—fuck, I’m so close—please—“

You didn’t need to ask twice, let alone once. Eddie’s sped up glides of the tongue, combined with the grip he has over your ass and the lewd image of the two of you in the mirrors has you going good. Next thing you know, you start to clench around nothing—unfortunately—head backwards as moans come out throated from your dry mouth. The only thing you are capable of saying, or even thinking, is Eddie’s name.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers sweetly, still in between your legs. “I got you.”

He kisses his way up to your face, giving you a full taste of your arousal as he kisses you adoringly. It takes you a while to climb down from your high, forgetting for a brief second that you were in a somewhat public space and that you should probably return. 

“Maybe we should get a cab,” you say as Eddie gets some paper to help clean you up.

“Thought you were enjoying the party.”

“I was. But that was before you ate me out in the middle of it.”

Eddie chuckles softly, pecking your lips once again. You notice he has your panties still and you throw him a rather shocked glare when he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket.

“Uh… I might need those back,” you pretend to complain.

That should not have been intriguing to you, but somehow there you are, completely bewitched by a smug Eddie Brock.

“Eddie,” you laugh.

“What? Insurance policy.”

“I’m going home with you, stupid, why would you—“

Eddie kisses your cheek and smirks. “Fine, then let’s say this is for ease of access. Because the second we walk through that door, back home… I’m not gonna let a single inch untouched from your body.”

tags:

@doin-stuff​ @beskarboobs​ @acourtofsnakes​ @megalinditron​ @potter-solomons​ @solomons-finest-rum​ @starwarslove16​ @justreadingficsdontmindme​ @ittybittykylo​ @stardust-galaxies​ 

[pollenallergie]

warning: this is longer than it has any right to be… sorryyyy

Eddie Munson isn’t your stereotypical snobby metalhead <3

For starters, he doesn’t just stick to one subgenre of metal. <3

Of course he (most likely) prefers thrash metal (Judas Priest, Metallica, etc.) and possibly even power metal. However, he also likes doom metal because it explores themes that he can personally relate to (i.e. mental health struggles). <3

More-freaking-over, Eddie loves stoner metal because, I mean, c’mon, it’s Eddie. <3

Eddie likes music outside of metal too. For example, the man loves psychedelic rock; certainly not as much as he loves metal, but still. He loves the heavier themes it explores and, of course, the sick-ass guitar riffs and licks it offers. <3

Eddie also has at least some appreciation for some early punk, although he might not necessarily like all of it, because of how it influenced early metal. <3

Generally, Eddie has an appreciation for many different kinds of music. For example, Eddie has an appreciation for some alt-rock. <3

Eddie also has a nostalgic sort of appreciation for early country music (Johnny Cash, Porter Wagoner, Willie Nelson, etc.) because that’s what Wayne listened to most of the time when Eddie was growing up. <3

Fuck, the man secretly even likes Dolly. I mean, how can anyone not like Dolly??? <3

He hates Kenny Rogers though, hates that kind of commercialized country (much like he hates commercialized pop music). <3

He doesn’t hate all pop music though. Just most pop music. <3

Not to mention, Eddie Munson loved Deep Purple as a kid and, consequently, still maintains a nostalgic sort of love for them as he gets older. <3

Really, it’s easier to just establish the genres and subgenres that Eddie absolutely hates because those are much less numerous. <3

Again, Eddie finds most pop music to be too commercialized and peppy for his tastes. For example, he only likes synth-pop when it leans heavily into its psychedelic influence or when it explores deeper themes (the man can get down with some Phil Collins, but only with his more somber/heavier stuff). <3

As much of a satanist as the town of Hawkins believes him to be, Eddie is honestly kind of freaked out by the genuinely satanic and gore-y themes that death metal and black metal explore. He likes the aggression that metal brings, but he doesn’t really dig m*rder (especially not after the spring of ‘86). <3

Eddie also likes to make fun of glam/hair rock for its pop-like hooks and slow jams in his youth, but as he approaches his 40s, he begins to have like a nostalgic appreciation for it much like most dads do. However, he still sort of thinks it’s too tame even then. He’ll also never call it glam metal or hair metal though because, even in his 40s, he maintains that Twisted Sister is not metal. <3

All in all, Eddie can find something to like about every genre (though he certainly has his favorites and, definitely, some strong preferences), so long as the music is not overly commercialized, peppy, or shallow. <3

Eddie is versatile; he tolerates a lot of different kinds of music (especially the ones that he knows are your favorites), but he still prefers his favorite metal subgenres at the end of the day. <3

Most importantly, as rockstar!Eddie spends more time working in the music industry (or as regular ol’ Eddie grows more as a musician), he develops a deeper appreciation for musical talent in general, which allows him to at least tolerate music that he might otherwise write off as being lame. <3

ps. I have a very limited knowledge of music subgenres and most of my knowledge of metal comes from my anti-establishment, stoner uncle.

[catbooknerd22]

Stranger Things Characters and Taylor Swift

Will isn't a swiftie. Like, come on, that man is a music SNOB. He acknowledges the quality of her music, and that she's clearly very accomplished in the music industry, but she's not his taste. 

Oppisitairly, Mike is a die-hard swiftie. Will admires his passion but he could never. I think Mike would feel called out by the Midnights album, especially Anti-Hero. 

El likes her, but not as much as Mike, and she doesn't know a lot of her less popular songs. 

Lucas and Max know her most popular songs and select others because of El, but neither of them ever got really into her music. 

Dustin appreciates her as a singer and a person but he's never heard any of her songs except like Blank Space/Shake it Off/Bad Blood. 

Robin is definitely a fan, it's one of her hyperfixations and she knows lots of random facts about Taylor that she will share at random times. She likes her anxiety songs and songs about what could've been most. 

Steve thinks she's overrated. He'd be the type to say "All she does is cry about her exes," and Robin would have to set him straight. (Haha, straight. Not a chance.)

Eddie does not listen to her at all, but he knows better than to disrespect her in Robin's presence. 

Nancy respects her SO MUCH. She will never hesitate to launch into a rant about how brave Taylor is for putting up with all the shit she's had to put up with (Kanye, Jake, society, etc. Watch Miss Americana on Netflix if you don't know what I mean.) 

Jonathan respects her because of how many times he's heard Nancy defend her, but he is a music snob and does not listen to her. 

Argyle is barely aware of her existence. 

[witchthewriter]

Can I ask for a level three ship for Stranger Things (male), Harry Potter and Disney Descendants (female)?

My pronouns are she/they and I'm bisexual.

5'11, curvy, I have pale skin, round shaped face with a small double chin, potato nose, mid-lenght straight black hair with undercut and bangs, hazelnut brown eyes and my style is a mix of grunge and dollcore/angelcore.

INFP, Ravenclaw, Lawful Good, gemini sun with moon gemini, rising pisces and venus virgo.

I have ADHD and I describe myself as stubborn, intelligent, discerning, conceited, aggressive, honest, emotional, creative, empathic and sensitive.

I like writing songs and poems, listening to music, drawing/painting, junk food, makeup, staying in bed all day, rainy days, comfy clothes, shopping, cats. I dislikes raspberry kisses, injustices, fireworks and firecrackers, balloons, snakes, school.

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑩𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔! It was a hard toss up between him, Steve and Eddie, so I'll give you the reasons -

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆; I think he suits someone that has a naturally motherly side. You remind me of Robin A LOT. Both honest, strive for the truth and have a no nonsense attitude to certain things. I think what got me the most is the Lawful Good. Steve is more of a Chaotic Good, and I think you would clash heads a lot with 'what's right and wrong.'

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆; He would do your head in. I'm sorry to say, but he would annoy you a lot. I don't think you would appreciate his messy lifestyle and sometimes erratic behaviour.

So I ship you with 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏! He's the most emotionally mature and sensitive of the bunch. He thinks about how his actions can hurt others, and he's very intelligent. You would have a lot of philosophical discussions, always out of the blue.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・His MBTI is ISFP, paired with your INFP, you both have a gentle relationship. Neither of you get aggressive with each other, as the other never gets annoying.

・He loves when you remember important information about him. His birthday, Will's birthday etc. Oh and he LOVES when you hang out with Will!!! He loves seeing you two together, like a little family <3

・Is shy with pet names, but in private he's getting used to calling you 'honey'

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑪𝒉𝒐 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈! She would be so delicate with you, and would love when you get revved up about your favourite topic. She's very intelligent - that's how you got to know each other, you were both studying for an exam and she didn't want to sit by herself.

She's a very kind girl, who has a soft demeaour. She isn't loud, and actually hates sudden loud noises. She doesn't like surprises but does like sweets.

I think in the book Rowling portrayed her in a very awful light. Cho is a young girl who has experienced a terrible loss. So she definitely has an issue with abandonment because of Cedric.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・If there's a gossip or a rumour going around school about you, she will shut it down immediately. Although she isn't a confrontational person, she is very smart and can easily get underneath someone's skin.

・Likes to sit by the fire and read with you. Although the Ravenclaw common room doesn't have a fire, the students have created a makeshift one. It's actually very creative and out-of-the box. The fire is blue and instead of smoke, sparks of stars drift from the flames.

・Takes you out to look at the stars. She'll pull you to the astronomy tower and lay next to you, watching shooting stars

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑼𝒎𝒂! I'm basing this off of her character development in movie three. Uma is a very passionate person who hates injustice. Her whole character revolves around "why not me, why not all of us," when only the four VK's are chosen.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Makes all the moves in the relationship. She initiates the first kiss, asks you out, etc. Either you're too oblivious to see her flirting with you, or you're too intimidated.

・Gives you sea-themed jewellery all the time. Aquamarine gemstones in sterling silver encasing, so that you can wear them as necklaces. Or sea shells as earrings.

・Even though you've earned your respect from everyone. It's like you have extra ... protection? extra respect? I just mean everyone knows not to cross you, because Uma will

[merc-with-a-mouth-69]

Do you think Eddie would like modern day rock music?

Hmm.. that’s a good question. I personally feel like Eddie would stick to the classic rock and metal, even if he were a young adult in 2022. His taste would obviously still be for bands like Metallica, Black Sabbath (later just Ozzy), Iron Maiden and Guns N Roses, but I also see him as a fan of early 90’s slipknot, Smashing Pumpkins, Korn, Deftones, etc.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Eddie is a music kind of guy. His love language would be to dedicate a song to his crush or play it for them on his guitar. I think Eddie listens to music with a message. He really listens to the lyrics of a song, not just the kick ass guitar riffs and vocals. He’s definitely the type to be appreciative of talent and when he finds music he can relate to, he considers it pure art.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Bands Eddie would listen to in modern day setting (not including the obvious stated above):

Cannibal Corpse

Smashing Pumpkins

Pantera

Led Zeppelin

Judas Priest

System of A Down

Tool (certain songs because he’d find some cringy tbh)

Slipknot

Anthrax

Alice In Chains

White Zombie

Nine Inch Nails

Korn

Deftones (certain songs tbh)

Slayer

Nirvana

Mudvayne

Disturbed

Seether (their earlier stuff though)

Gojira

Lamb of God

Evile

Trivium

Most likely more but you get the gist

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

So in short, yes he would, but certain bands. Eddie would definitely enjoy the numetal genre, but bands like the above listed. If you play Five Finger Death Punch around him or Avenged Sevenfold, he’s going to give you a little glare and head shake of disapproval.

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 7)

Chapter Summary: How you and Bucky feel about the presence of your ex-boyfriend.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings:+18 only, mention to smut, overdrinking, embarrassing behavior due alcohol consumption, Natasha knows stuff, ex-boyfriend, minor jealousy, minor angst, floof, Bucky has a somewhat creep confession, but give him a break, he’s never been in love.

A/N: Another smutless one, I hope you don’t mind. Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

Previously:

Your shoulder brushes against him as you walk past Bucky and he turns his body around, following you with his gaze. He takes a long sip of his drink and places a hand inside his pocket, watching as you approach your ex-boyfriend.  

He tries hard to bury deep down inside him the tug on his chest.

“Oh, fuck…”

Natasha’s curse makes him turn to her and he realizes she’s been watching him, with a dumbfounded expression he’s not used to see on her face.

“What?”

She scoffs and shakes her head, seeming in an estate of disbelief, “This whole time I’d been worried with the wrong person.”

No point. Bucky sees absolutely no point in trying to make it like there isn’t  turmoil twisting inside of him. Not for Natasha, anyway, it would be to no avail. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s a kicked puppy look on his face to make it harder for him to put on any kind of façade.

“Fuck,” he sighs and run his hand harshly over his face, “What the hell is this, Natasha?” He whines, failing at trying to not sound as helpless as he does.

“You tell me, buddy.” She points at him with her glass of vodka, tilting her head with interest.

“Shit,” he exhales, looking down, before his face snaps up at her, “I’m … just weird, I’m not myself these days.” Bucky bites his lower lip as if trying to somehow refrain from spilling the words, but he just can’t, he’s dying to let it all out. He steps closer to her and lowers his voice as much as he can with the loud music beating around them, “I’ve spent almost every day of the last month with her. I have absolutely no desire to see or think of another woman and I have to restrain myself constantly, cause if I had it my way I would call her every five minutes to check in on her, and… and when I’m thinking about her - which is all the time, I fucking swear - I wonder if she’s thinking of me, and now? I mean, right now? I feel like snatching the blade right now on my ankle and shooting it right on that fella’s throat.” Finally taking a breath after his rambling, he points in your direction, before turning to see you right when you’re letting out a small laugh at something the punk has said.

“Wow…” Natasha lets out a whistle.

“A few days ago,” he turns back to his friend, “I snuck into her closet to find out the name of her perfume. And you know what I did next?  I bought a large bottle for myself, like a fucking creep,” sheer frustration plasters on his tone.     

“Oh my…,” Natasha snorts at the same time a mix of incredulity and amusement shines on her eyes, “That’s definitely creepy and it’s even worse than I imagined. The almighty Bucky Barnes, the I’m a whore and proud,” she thickens her voice playfully, moving her arms in a mimicking way, “The I don’t do romance and attachments king is a tiny lost puppy with big blue heart eyes, aww,” she inclines her head as if she’s thinking of him as exactly how she’s just described him.

Bucky tries but he can’t actually find the amusement in all of that. The fact one single woman is making him feel that way is entirely new, unpredictable and… scary as hell. He has no clue where to go from there.

Natasha seems to swiftly catch on his little inner self torment and, after letting out a deep sigh, she puts on a small smile and shakes her head, “Don’t worry Bucky, it’s probably a crush. A big one. But only a crush,” she places her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze, “Y/n is one of my best friends and I know how delightful it is to be beside her. Maybe you’re just infatuated…”

“Maybe…” he exhales and shrugs, “I wouldn’t know… all I know is I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not that I remember…. but I’m pretty sure I would.” He looks at you again while you’re still talking to the Eddie guy.  

“They have history,” Natasha says in a kind voice, following your gaze.

“I know.”

“He was her first and only boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“She thought she was going to marry him.”

“Damn Nat…” he breathes out his frustration, dropping his head for a moment, before raising his downcast gaze at her again, “Yeah, I know that, too.”

“But you’re Bucky fucking Barnes,” she snaps in a more cheerful voice shaking his arm with a enthusiastic force, “Don’t forget that, buddy,” she shoots him a warning glare, “Also, I’ve never seen a brighter smile on that woman than when she’s talking about you,” she beams.   

Bucky’s heart jumps and a quick breathy smile surges on his lips before he takes in a shuddering breath, “I’m not sure what I should do, though.”

“Well, figure it out,” she lets go of his arm and taps on it, “My advice for the night if you should accept it is let it flow,” she shrugs. “Go on with your thing and see what happens. Just try not to hurt you or her on your way, though,” Nat warns.

“I’m not even sure I-Wait,” he frowns after his gaze is drawn to the spot where you are again, “Did that fucker just leave her alone?”

He instantly struts towards you, ignoring Nat’s snicker.

~~~

“Hey,” you smile, gulping down the nervousness down your throat as you approach your ex-boyfriend. The one you haven’t seen ever since he broke up with you months ago.

“Hey,” he offers you a tight but kind smile back.

You halt on your way, the awkwardness building up a barrier on your way as you’re not sure what to do next. Should you give him your hand to shake? Hug him? Do nothing at all? Not once before you had thought that moment would play out between you and Eddie.

But he seems a bit more resolved than you and shrugs, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Congratulations again,” he says, still holding you, “You’re the best and most hard working person I know, you deserve it.”

The small smile in your lips grows wider and you accept the compliment, relieved that the awkwardness seems to be tamed. While you’re so close to him after all that time, you notice he’s wearing the same perfume he’s been wearing for years, the one which would make you sneeze all the time, but you never really said anything.

“Thank you,” you lean back, sniffing discreetly to suppress the sneeze threatening to come out, “I’m happy you could make it,” you add. The fact he’s arrived all by himself grasps your interest, considering how everyone around you would tell you he was probably seeing someone else… however, if he did have someone, he wouldn’t bring them to your party, would he?

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” he says with a gentle tone, but the formality is still there, you notice.  

You two engage in some small conversation and you can’t help but to take him in and realize that, just like the perfume, Eddie looks exactly the same with everything else. The same hairstyle, same grey t-shirt you gifted him on your last Christmas together, the same constant half smile while he talks… he still speaks quietly, letting out just a few small words, which has always forced you to be the one to push on the conversations…

It’s… familiar… even comfortable, you dare say. But if you’re going to be honest with your own feelings, ever since he walked away, you thought you would be yearning to feel that familiarity again, that it would lead you to a sense of… home.

Why it isn’t quite like that, though?

“You look different,” he says as the subjects of small talk seem to come to an ending point.  

You put your previous thoughts aside for later consideration.

“Oh…Different good or bad?” you ask, tilting your head with a small pull in the corner of your lips.

“I don’t know... just…different, I guess,” he frowns and quickly puts on that half smile of his.

“Oh, well… it’s been a while…“

“Yeah… I guess you’re right,” he says, regarding you with a wondering look in his eyes that makes you shift on your knees, “Listen,” he clears his throat, “I was wondering if we could meet to talk one of these days.”

“Oh,” you draw in a breath. Talking to him, having a real conversation, is something you’ve been wanting to do for a long time. It still feels like you don’t fully understand why you’re broken-up. Regardless the time it’s passed, you still feel attached to him somehow, like, no matter how exciting and new, you’re now living someone else’s life and not the one you had planned for you years ago.

“I mean,” he adds before you can give him a proper answer, “We still need to figure out what to do about the condo.”

The words are like cold water thrown at your face. There you are, thinking he wanted to talk about your relationship, but what’s really on his mind is the condo you’ve bought together. Swiftly, you work on putting a small smile on your face, “Yeah… sure, you’re right,” you nod.

“Hey! Eddie!”

Both of you look towards the female voice and your eyes fall upon a beautiful young woman you recognize as one of the members of SHIELD’s tech team. You’ve worked with her on a joined project of the two organizations before. Chloe… you believe her name is Chloe.

She’s waving at Eddie excitedly, calling him over the little group she’s with. She doesn’t seem to notice you’re standing next to him until her gaze meets yours. The wide grin on her face drops into a quick cringe before she nods in a respectful manner and shifts her look away, whispering something at one of the guys in the group.

When you set your attention back on Eddie, you tighten your lips just as you notice how the bone on his throat bobs right before his flustered eyes meet yours again.

“I-I, ahm, gotta go,” he runs his hand on the nape of his neck, “Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” Your voice comes out calm and controlled.

“It was good to see you,” he says, before placing his hand on your shoulder, “Congratulations again.”

After you give him a small nod as a thank you, keeping the tight smile on your face matching his, he walks away towards the group and the woman. The one your friends kept warning you about, apparently, given how uncomfortable he seemed to be in front of you after you saw her. As soon as he gets there, you see the two of them talking in hushed words. He keeps a safe distance from her, but his hand on her arm is where your gaze sticks on. 

You don’t have the slightest idea of what’s happening with your feelings right now. Minutes ago you were realizing the familiarity of Eddie wasn’t what you expected it to be anymore, but now, seeing him so close to someone else… a beautiful woman, to be more specific, with her long black straightened hair and fancy blue dress holding each one of her beautiful curves…It just crushes you.  A lump grows in your throat and while your gaze flicks around, you feel small… lost… picturing ways you could flee away from your own party at the same time ten years of your life flash in your mind.

The cold, yet gentle touch of metal in your elbow is what takes you out of your own head, “Hey, everything alright?” says the silky and soothing voice.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s while he stares at you with concerned eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his…There’s already a bit less  turbulence inside your chest and mind. You think nothing of it, though.

“Yeah, yeah…” you smile, “He, ahm… Some friends called him. He had to go.”

Bucky just lets out a hum – which sounds more like a groan – staring over your shoulder to where the little group stands.

“He said he wants to talk…“ you start, and don’t see when Bucky’s breath hatches catches on his throat, his eyes back on you, “About the condo,” you press your lips, “He said he’ll call me.”

While your gaze gets lost ahead, you have no idea that the sadness in them pinches deep inside Bucky’s chest. If you could read Bucky’s mind at that moment, you would find out that the fact your reencounter with your ex-boyfriend hadn’t ended up in some sort of hope for reconciliation hasn’t left him sad at all, but the lost look in your eyes… makes him wanna hold you in his arms and never let go. Not before punching a douche in the face, of course.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, side hugging and pulling you closer to him, “You’re the fucking boss now and, look around, ” he gestures with his glass of whiskey to the crowded and jazzing place, ”You have a damn Stark party just for you. We’re all here to celebrate the badass motherfucker you are. You’re not just going to let anything ruin your night, will you?” The corner of his eyes crinkle as he grins at you.

You let out a small laugh, the heaviness inside you slowly slipping out of your body as you allow yourself to synchronize with Bucky’s vibe. You can always trust  the upbeat way he presents the world to you to lift whatever mood of yours up.  You look down at your empty glass and shrugs, “I might need a refill, though…or two,” you shoot him a warning look.  

Bucky’s smile stretches even wider and he lets go of your shoulders to offer his arm, nodding towards the bar, “Shall we?”

You gladly accept his suggestion by wrapping your hand around his elbow and walking with him, not even noticing that Eddie’s gaze follows you with piqued interest.

~~~

Quite a few more drinks later and after listening to Tony’s very nice and very Tony speech on his toast to honor you, you’re already fully invested in your party again. Bucky stays by your side most of the time, but you also come across with a lot of your friends from work and a few others, who are all more than happy to put you high on a pedestal for your promotion and party with you. It stings a bit when Camilla, your friend from work, tells you she heard Eddie and Chole are really together, but two or three more drinks after, you end up hitting the dance floor with a few friends by your side, not even seeing when Eddie leaves the party early, right before Chloe.

You’re happy to see that Amanda, one of Bucky’s friends you met that night in the club, has made it to the party, but you’re already too tipsy and it slips from your attention when she comments on how Bucky has been quite distant from her and the other girls for almost a month now.

If you’re going to be honest, you end up not truly noticing a lot of stuff since you’ve been drinking a great deal more than you’re used to, probably due the drill of having a kickass party thrown for you mixed with the unexpected sight of Eddie with a potential new girl - after months without seeing him. As the alcohol does its thing in your senses, you don’t notice the way Bucky looks at you, the way he holds you a little bit stronger when you’re dancing together, how he glares at the guys who tries to approach you or the fact he only leaves your side when he knows you’re comfortable and safe.

All you see and feel now is the music and the lights as you sway your hips to the beats. The party is almost coming to an end, but there’s still a small crowd of people enjoying their last moments there. The alcohol, the music and your friends, more precisely Camilla, Olivia, Amanda and Nat – the last two in the middle of a flirting contest you fail to notice, as well – are the ones around you. The buzz clouds your mind in a delicious way until your back bumps into a hard wall. Your weakened knees give in but before you hit the floor the wall wraps around you and holds you still.

Oh, you know that hard wall of muscles… You know it pretty well.

“Hey, there.” A foolish smile plasters on your lips at the same time the back of your head leans against the wall so you can see his face. His gorgeous and ungodly sexy face, “Your face is sexy,” you decide it is a very good idea to tell him that now.

“That right?” Bucky smirks, holding your gaze.

“Oh, yeah,” you clumsily turn around to face him, prompting him to grab you tighter since you stumble a bit on your toes. You curl the hand holding your glass around his neck, “And you’re big, too,” you don’t even notice but you’re a slurring mess as you speak and look to see your running hand down his broad chest, roughly probing his muscles, “Very, very big,” you exaggerate a sultry tone, the alcohol erasing any kind of subtleness or refinement in you or the notion that there are people around you, while your hand explores further down his body to say it’s not just about his muscles you’re talking about.

“Sweetheart.” Not making a big fuss about it, he gently grabs your wrist over his lower stomach to place it around his neck along with the other one, ”I’m very flattered to hear that, you’re one very nice piece of ass yourself, too,” he engages with you, keeping the playful tone.

You let out a girlish giggle, turning your face towards your friends, the trio now whispering and laughing among themselves as they watch the both of you, “He said I have a nice ass,” you shout, not realizing how loud you actually are as you lift and shake your hips, making your friends laugh harder and causing you to trip on your toes once again. But of course Bucky catches you before you fall.

“How many drinks, so far, huh?” Bucky chuckles, keeping the hold of his arms and eyes on you.

“Three or four,” you answer with nonchalance, bringing the glass to your lips as you hold yourself on his neck, only to pout when you notice it’s empty.

Your friends scoff at your lie behind you, “You can add at least ten more to that count, sweetheart,” Natasha shouts from behind you, punctuating the word sweetheart with a teasing pull on her mouth. 

You make a dismissive face only Bucky can see, “Nonsense, check out what I can do,“ You step back from Bucky with the intention to put on a yoga pose you’re sure will convince your friends of how ok and steady you are and as soon as you lift your leg, you trip again and this time Bucky is not fast enough to catch you before your ass hit the floor.

The four of them rush to help you out as tears fall down from your eyes at how much you’re laughing, holding your glass up. It’s Bucky who ends up picking you up, though.

He and your friends shower you with questions to check if you’re ok but it all falls like a blur sound to your years.

“Ok, I guess it was a bit more than three or five,” ignoring the curious eyes around your group, you laugh making an ok sign with your hands before your stomach churns and you grimace, placing your hand over it, “Oh…” your face drops.

 “Alright, come one, let’s go,” Bucky supports you with his hands and urges you to walk with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You frown, sounding almost offended as he takes your glass from you and hands it to Natasha, gently pulling you along.

“My place… let’s freshen up, come on,” Bucky patiently says, nodding at the girls to say goodbye, who just nod back, knowing you would be in good hands.  

“Ooooo, bye girls, we’re going to his place to freshen up,” you wink exaggeratedly and make air quotations with your fingers, addressing your friends as you clumsily walk away with Bucky.

~~~

“Bridal style,” you loudly announce stretching your hands and legs to the air as soon as he steps inside his living room with you in his arms.

Bucky can’t help but laugh as a snorting giggle follows your words. If he had his way he would’ve carried you from the party, but he didn’t want to attract even more attention to your state. So, on the second trip on your own feet inside the elevator he picked you up. It would be easier that way.

Bucky carefully puts you standing on the floor and, as soon as he’s convinced you can stand on your feet without stumbling or falling, he turns to shut the door, only to have you jumping on him as soon as he faces you.

“Hey, hey,” he manages to say softly, placing his hands on your hips as you shower his mouth and face with sloppy kisses which taste strongly like fancy champagne.

“What? Let’s freshen up,” you answer in a log slur, dragging your lips on anything of him you can reach.

Bucky laughs, pushing you away with a gentle yet steady touch, looking deep into your eyes, “That’s not what I meant… not when you had so much to drink, sweetheart.” He flicks his thumb on your chin.

It takes a moment or two, but realization – and disappointment- finally dawns on your face, “Oh… you meant freshen up for real…” You shut your eyes and tap your hand on your forehead.

Bucky thinks you’re too damn cute for your own good.

You focus on him again, “Are you sure, though?” You insist, shoving a finger in your mouth and tilting your hips, putting on before him the unsexist pose Bucky has ever seen.

Yet, it’s the most adorable thing and his annoying heart swells inside his chest for you as you keep your attempts of seducing him, “Yeah, I’m sure,” he nods unrelentingly, holding back a laugh and waiting to see the follow up of your shenanigans.

“But I’m horny and I wanted to suck your big dick,” you pout, crossing your arms and thumping your foot against the floor.

Bucky takes in a deep breath. He is only human and can’t help that his poor cock twitches at your bratty whine. But your glossy half open eyes and dragged voice reminds him he’s the only one sober enough to make decisions in the room and therefore, his buddy down there needs to chill, “I’ll be more than happy to allow you to do so,” he’s amused when your face light up, “But not tonight, sweetheart,” he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you towards the kitchen, not without spotting the dirty look you give him.

“You’re no fun,” you complain, barely able to put one foot in front of the other before you stop and swirl around, trusting on his strong hold to not let you fall wearing a devilish little smirk on your face.  

Bucky cocks an eyebrow, waiting for whatever mischievous pearl will come out of your lips now.

“What if…” you start before a hiccup interrupts you, “I show you my boobies?” You offer, leaning over and pressing your breasts together through your dress, “You looove my boobies,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively even if your eyelids can’t even remain wide open.

“I do love your boobies,” Bucky can’t deny, not hiding his amusement.  

Apparently, that’s all you need to hear before you throw yourself on him again. Bucky swiftly catches you with a huff, but you can’t do much more than circle your arms around his neck and rest your head on him.

“Love your muscles,” you mumble quietly against him, “There are so many of them.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky tries, “As much as I love your boobies and you love my muscles, now it’s not the time. Now it’s time to get you some water, maybe a sandwich, huh? Then I can prepare you a shower and you can rest a bit and… Y/N?” Bucky calls when you’re too quiet- not even making a sex innuendo when he mentions a shower.

He listens a not so soft snore as a response and looks down to see you completely dozed, with your mouth agape against his chest. He sighs… still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, goddammit.

“Guess we can skip right to the resting, then,” he whispers through a fond smile.

Taking you in his arms he walks towards his bedroom and places you on his bed. You only stir a bit when he gently removes your shimmery and apparently uncomfortable dress and unties your heels. He dresses you in a t-shirt of his so you can rest comfortably. He manages to make you drink a little bit of water, to which you whine graciously enough, and, after covering you with a thin blanket – because he knows you’re never really that cold at night, no matter the temperature in the room –  he moves to get up and maybe take a shower for himself.

“Bucky,” you mumble and, without opening your eyes, you move yourself to nuzzle against his metal hand sprawled on the mattress, “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

Bucky is absolutely sure you have no idea of what that question really means to him, how it falls upon the rising tangle of feelings inside him… which is all for you. Wonderful and beautiful and special you, who came unannounced and stirred up something in him he never thought possible. Something he just doesn’t know what to do with.

Moving meticulously slowly not to pull his hand and wake you up again now that you’re deep back into slumber, he lays down beside you. For your question… he doesn’t say anything. Simply because he doesn’t know the right answer yet.

~~~

To be continued. 

[reddie-is-my-life]

Hi

I’m not sure if any of the people that follow me are even active anymore but its been a couple of years since i posted on this account. I’ve written a couple things throughout the time that I actually posted on this account which is what this post is about. I was scrolling through my wips and turns out I have a not completed fic that could really be considered a drabble. Anyways, I wanted to post it just to say i did. You don’t have to read it. Or you can. Its up to you. I wrote this in 2018 so if you do decide to read it don’t be harsh. Thank you.

The thrum of the music under his feet guides him further into the pack of bodies grinding against each other. The smell of sweat, weed and alcohol curls around him making his nose scrunch up from distaste, the further he walks into the house. Someone in the crowd bumps into him slamming their shoulder into him, making him stumble slightly before someone reaches out to steady him. He decides to not acknowledge the hand considering the owner of said hand is the one to blame for his presence at the party. The same hand leads him into the open kitchen where all the liquor is lined up on the counter.   

“Come on Eddie, I know you don’t wanna be here but at least don’t look like a 5 year-old that got their favorite toy taken away from them,” Bill pouts already reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being so petulant. I should’ve realized that it was hurting your feelings Billy. I also didn’t realize that your favorite toy was a party filled with people that don’t care who sees them wasted and filled with idiocy ,” Eddie snaps back. 

Bill only raises his shot of whiskey in the direction of the other boy before tipping it back. Swallowing he takes a moment before he responds, “You seem snarkier than usual, something up?”  this time he takes a step closer as if it’ll block the dark room, loud music, and the dozens of people surrounding them. 

Even if Eddie wanted to talk about it, he sure as hell would never hold a heart to heart conversation with Bill in front of so many people. Instead he shakes his head and reaches for the cooler filled to the brim with beers. Expertly popping the cap off with his car keys he turns to Bill again finally meeting his expectant eyes, “It’s nothing, I just have a small headache is all,” it wasn’t a complete lie, he did feel the beginning fingers of a migraine graze his head. Ignoring it he decides to change the subject before the other man decided to pry more, “So what’s the deal with this guy? He’s got a pretty nice house to be someone of the middle working class.”

It was true after all, no one with decent money income could afford a sleek looking chandelier hanging in the middle of what looked to be the living room. The couches seemingly pushed next to the walls giving more space for people to grind against each other. The couches were filled with people either shotgunning or just full on making out. The sound system though, playing songs that made him skeptical about the type of music the host listened to, seemed mighty expensive even from his vantage point in the kitchen. The place itself was big, the open kitchen looking out into the living room and what seemed to be a room with a pool table, leading into a hallway Eddie was sure was a couple bedrooms. He wondered if the rest of the place would look just as expensive as the part that was filled with people. Maybe he would sneak away and explore the rest of the house if Bill got caught up with someone else. 

Bill nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, it is a pretty damn good house. The guy that invited me here, Ben,” he takes a second as if remembering the man. And if he’d be damned he thinks Bill is blushing lightly ,”he’s, uh, best friends with the host. Said he was a radio host or something and he had his own show even. He also said he would be here but I haven’t seen him yet,” he looks around the room but it’s no use due to how smokey and dark the whole house is. 

Looking at his friend more closely he realizes that he is indeed blushing like some schoolgirl with her crush instead of a 25 year old man. He wonders when Bill met this so-called Ben and when he had formed his crush. But more importantly he wonders why in the world Bill never even mentioned him to him. Eddie was surely privy to this information, he was his best friend after all. Perhaps Bill finds you annoying now. Maybe Bill doesn’t even want to be friends with you but is too nice to tell you directly so he brought you to the party you didn’t want to go to so you would leave him. Perhaps Bill finally sees you for who you really are. You dirty-, “Hey Bill, do you happen to have a crush on this Ben fellow?” 

“Uh, w-w-why wouldd you say that Ed-d-die?” Bill's stutter comes out clearly, making him flustered and proving his hidden secret. Instead of coming clean he reaches for his third shot. Swallowing it cleanly only slightly wincing he takes a look around the dark room again as if someone will appear and save him any second from the questions Eddie is surely going to press him with. 

Eddie moves to the side when someone comes up behind to get something to drink but pulls Bill right along with him. Deciding to at least ask, without intention of harm he opens his mouth, “Come on, Bill. You don’t need to lie. I am your best friend for a reason. You can tell me these types of things,” he laughs ruefully at that, “actually technically you can tell me anything, that’s what comes with being best friends. A small dumb crush definitely falls in that category.”

Bill winces at that and a sad glint fills his eyes along with disappointment but before he can answer him someone calls his name out. He turns along with Eddie to meet a guy smiling and walking towards them, “What’s up, Big Bill? What are you doing huddling next to the drinks? Don’t you know this is a party?” Eddie watches the man come closer and notices how Bill lit up with excitement as soon as he recognizes him. So this must be Ben. He would let out an appreciative whistle if the man weren’t so close and Bill wasn’t so infatuated with him. The man - Ben - was handsome as hell. His light colored hair was styled to look as if he hadn’t done anything with it but it wasn’t a lazy look, it looked rather sophisticated. The beard that adorned his face looked sharp and regal, complimented even by the small scar that lay on the corner of his top lip. God damn, a scar has never looked so right. His build was leaning towards gruffer and broader. His arms seemed to bulge even from Eddie’s vantage point. It was all on top of legs fit into jeans that seemed to only highlight the fact that his arms weren’t the only thing taken care of. Though the man would look intimidating with a face and a body like that but his eyes were kind and his tone was playful. 

He takes a second to catch on to the nickname and is soon distracted by that rather than the man standing across from him, “Big Bill?” he whispers quietly turning to face Bill.

Before he can say anything about the nickname he receives a hearty laugh from Ben. Facing him again he waits for his answer, “Ah, you haven’t met Richie yet then. He gives everyone a nickname. Or at least everyone he likes. I’m Ben or Haystack,” He says extending a hand to shake. 

Though Eddie finds it strange to shake hands as if in a business setting instead of a raging party he shakes his hand, “Eddie or Eddie.”

Though it wasn’t a joke, Ben still lets out a smile at his response. His brown eyes twinkle before turning to Bill. He goes to touch him before seeming to think better of it and turns to Eddie again, “You wouldn’t mind if I took Bill from you would you? At least for just a little bit.”

Raising his eyebrows he shakes his head, “No, no, not at all. You guys should go dance.”

Bill clears his throat before responding, though Eddie sees right through it. Almost as an afterthought it comes to him that Bill usually clears his throat when he plans on what to say without having to worry about his stuttering. Guess Ben makes him nervous, “You sure Eddie? I can stay if you want,” but from the way he was looking at the other man he doubted that it was something he wanted to do.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll go find something to do. Maybe even find the host to tell him how shit his beer is,” he cracks a smile at that, urging his friend to leave him in the kitchen and dance with the handsome devil that clearly seemed interested in him too.

“Alright, just give me a second,” he tips his head back taking the shot in his hand before turning and taking another one. He shakes his shoulder at it and turns to face the other two, “Alright, let’s go dance.”

Eddie almost expects a high pitched giggle from his friend for a second by the way he grins so widely. He makes no reaction outwards but inwardly he’s utterly confused. Bill wouldn’t be acting this way if it was just a small crush. He wonders when Bill met Ben once again before he notices that his friend has turned his head looking at him briefly making Eddie smile and pumping a fist in the air before he turns around once again saying something in Ben's ear that makes the bigger man face him smiling widely. He lets out a quiet sigh, confused as to when Ben had made an appearance in Bill's life enough that he would look like - funnily enough - he was given his favorite toy. 

Before he figures out what he wants to do while he waits for Bill to come back - if he even comes back - his eye catches on someone walking up to the counter looking more than enough wasted that he feared that the second they got their hands on another drink they would puke all over Eddie’s shoes. Deciding not to even chance the thought of it or at best try to hold a conversation with them he walks towards the pool table. Sidling up to a corner of the pool table he takes into account the people surrounding it. Most seem pretty similar to each other making commentary on the play going on in front of them. Yet, he focuses on one of the players, while most people around the table - hell even the other player - are more drunk than not, he seems perfectly sober. 

His moves are crisper than the other guy who is moving around slowly. He watches as the small bun on the man's head bounces around a little as he jumps up and down from seeming excited on his clear victory. His actions lead to a couple curls coming out and framing his face. Eddie looks at him closer and notices that the man has a shocking color of blue eyes that pair nicely with his sharp cheekbones and jaw. Strangely he remembers Ben and thinks how complete opposites these two are. While this stranger is just as attractive as Ben he falls on the opposite spectrum. Pool table guy has such a pale color of skin he kinda looks like a ghost in the soft lighting hanging above the table. The light casts shadows on his face making him seem sharp and cold, while his electric blue eyes set off a vibe of mysteriousness making him that much more intriguing to Eddie. 

As he finishes off his beer he watches as the handsome stranger takes the final shot landing him the victory that was obvious as soon as Eddie walked over to the table. He watches in something close to amusement as he celebrates around the table before bringing the other player closer and clapping him on the back. The only response he gets from the drunk player is a couple grunts in disdain with the occasional mutter that the game was unfair and he demanded a rematch. Handsome stranger only chuckled in response before letting him go. And suddenly driven by who knows what force Eddie spoke up, “I’ll do the rematch for him, considering it wasn’t a fair match between a drunk man and a sober one.”

Both men turn to look at him but he focuses on the blue eyes of the handsome man. They seem to stare at each other for eternity before the other man breaks the silence by breaking into a smirk, “It wasn’t my idea to play the match. It might actually be an unfair match to me considering I had to drag it out way more due to consideration of this poor drunk man, isn’t that right, Zach?”

The drunk fool- Zach, didn’t let out a reply instead opting to slump further into the chair he had let himself fall into. It seemed to Eddie that he was getting ready to fall asleep in the chair. The host surely must care about the random people falling asleep in his property. He turned his attention back to the other man before cocking an eyebrow. With a small jerk he silently questioned if he would take him up on his offer. Said stranger only seems to smirk even more before heading to one side of the table.

As Eddie grabs his pool stick the stranger talks to him again, “So, cutie what’s the name to the face?”

“Don’t call me that and it's Eddie. And you would be?”

“Richie Tozier at your service. Seriously though, anything you want,” he finishes with a wink. A fucking wink, how cheesy could this guy get? God could only do so much for someone Eddie supposed, good looks, bad personality. 

Eddie scoffed instead of deeming him a response. Setting the balls into place he felt as Richie watched him. Looking up at him he met his gaze allowing only the smallest bit of discomfort set into him before he spoke again, “So, do you not drink?”

If Eddie hadn’t been watching his reaction closely he wouldn’t have noticed how Richie’s smirk faltered for a second before righting itself quickly. Only faint curiosity crossed his mind soon fading away because even though he was intrigued in Richie he didn’t want to actually get involved in anything with him where he would care about him in any way. Richie seemed to ponder the question for a second before answering, “I do drink, just didn’t feel like drinking yet, plus weed is sufficient enough to last until I decide I want a drink,” he shrugs.

Only raising his eyebrows slightly he gestures for Richie to begin the game. He watches as the other walks around the table before setting the white ball down. Just as he’s about to lean down to perfect his shot he looks at Eddie, “What about you Ed’s? I saw you put the beer bottle away but I doubt that you’re drunk.”

He observes as Richie lines up his shot before deciding to respond, “Again, my name is Eddie, if you already forgot. E-d-d-i-e. And secondly, I don’t really enjoy the idea of me passing out on an uncomfortable wooden chair next to a pool table surrounded by people I don’t know,” he pointedly looked at Zach quickly passed out on the chair already.

“Mmm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we.”

Lining up his shot, Eddie hums low in his throat right before the balls fall into the pocket. The game continues as the silence covers them like a fog. The small clinking of balls against each other along with the loud music playing from the living room do nothing to hide the hot gaze of both men as they move around each other. Brief touches of hands, shoulders and hips go throughout the game with the occasional smirk thrown at each other. Eddie though usually not one to find interest in a random stranger that quickly can’t help but feel curious toward the curly haired man. As the game comes to a close, Eddie sinks the final shot winning but only allowing himself a small humpf of victory before looking at Richie. 

Even though they’ve basically been eye fucking each other the whole entire game Richie places his hand on the small of Eddie’s back steering him towards the drinks, “I think i need a drink,” Richie offers offhandedly. 

Eddie silently watches as Richie makes up a concoction of tequila with orange juice stirring it slightly before tipping it back. Slightly covered in sweat Richie’s neck shines faintly under the faint light filtering from the small light on top of the stovetop. Watching as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, Eddie also swallows along with him suddenly hit with a dry throat. He reaches for the whiskey Bill had been drinking earlier before pouring up a shot. Taking it straight, he tries to clear his thoughts so he won’t end up in bed with the man that’s staring at him currently. That’s not how it works dumbass, you should definitely not be drinking alcohol. 

He swallows.

“Holy shit, Ed’s didn’t know you had it in you. I would’ve thought you would go for another weak beer,” Richie smirks.

“Shut up prick, you don’t know shit about me.”

“Maybe so, but by tonight I’m hoping I’ll know a couple more things about you,” and once again he winks but instead of making Eddie's eyes roll it makes his stomach turn in excitement. 

“Sure pal, whatever you say,” he deflects.

Richie only laughs in reply before pouring up four more shots and gestures to two of them looking at Eddie pointedly. Eddie lets out a scoff before stepping closer and taking one into his hand. He makes eye contact as he tips it back and if the eyes aren’t deceiving him Richie’s eyes darken a shade. He smirks before bringing the shot glass back to the countertop, “So?”

Richie lets out a dark chuckle before taking both shots one after another. The only reaction of the burn is a slight twitch in the corner of his eye before he stares at Eddie in amusement. Eddie takes the remaining shot before heading over to the group of bodies grinding against each other. He briefly glances behind his shoulder making sure the other man still has his attention directed towards him.

And that’s it. Thanks.

[aww-writing-no]

For @winterhawkbingo Round 3, Square G1: Eddie Brock

Ao3 Link

Changement de pieds:

They were halfway through the Act III of Spiderman and final act of the performance when Eddie came spinning offstage and grabbed Clint’s arm as he went past. Clint held up his hand for a high five, but Eddie just sagged against him, sucking in deep gulps of air.

“You okay there?” Clint whispered, giving him a concerned look. “You don’t look great.”

It was hard to tell under all the stage makeup, but Eddie was looking paler than usual. Clint pressed a hand to Eddie’s forehead, realizing how useless that was after the fact. Of course he would be hot and sweaty after the performance he just gave.

Eddie looked up at Clint, desperation in his eyes. “I’m so fucking dizzy,” he whispered.

Clint raised his eyebrows in concern. Dancers got desensitized to getting dizzy while spinning at a young age, so if it was enough for Eddie to be mentioning during a performance it must be really bad. He glanced across the stage where Bucky, as Spiderman, had called up his army of spiders. The chorus was doing a bunch of chasés across the stage and Clint looked around to see if he could spot a stage manager.

“Can you keep going?” Clint asked, making sure to keep his voice low.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned over further. Clint could feel him start to shake as he clutched Clint’s arm for support.

“I have to, right?” Eddie said, putting more pressure on Clint’s arm.

Clint continued to look around for a stage manager. Eddie looked like he was either going to puke or pass out, and he didn’t think it would be a great idea for either of those things to happen onstage.

It was almost time for Clint to stumble across the stage in a comedic moment to join the rest of the chorus of spiders, but he still couldn’t see any of the stage managers. It looked like something was really wrong with Eddie and Clint panicked.

“Give me your costume,” he demanded, ripping off his wig and running his fingers through his hair to flatten it out the best he could. They were just going to have to have a blond Venom in the second half of the act tonight because Clint was barely going to have time to put on Eddie’s costume, much less his wig. He started rapidly unlacing his tutu as Eddie unzipped his unitard with shaking hands.

Venom was also going to be in pointe shoes, Clint realized as he yanked the unitard on over his tights. He had about eight more measures before Eddie was supposed to be onstage, and he was just praying he remembered all the choreography from when he was doing that extra practice with Bucky.

“What is going on here?!” a stage manager hissed, finally appearing in the wings. Clint didn’t have time to answer her before he leapt on stage, but he heard Eddie throwing up and figured that should be enough of an answer.

Bucky’s look of shock as Clint appeared on stage was more realistic than artistic. “The fuck?” he mouthed when he was facing upstage away from the audience.

Clint gave him a tiny shrug before going into a fouetté jeté.

He lunged at Bucky, and Bucky jumped back, bringing his arms up to mimic shooting webs at him. Clint danced back, weaving as he went.

They repeated this a couple of times before Clint backed into the waiting arms of two of the other dancers. They lifted him up, and he beat his legs in the air. They lowered him down enough for him to kick off the floor and toss his legs backwards over his head. Thank goodness Wade and Junjie were there to guide his jump, because he’d forgotten about the pointe shoes and almost lost his footing on the landing.

Clint flung his arms back and the two spiders released their grips. He raised his arms and stalked towards Bucky, getting ready for the big finale. Bucky continued to mime shooting webs at Clint, who grabbed Bucky’s right wrist on one beat, then his left wrist on the next. Bucky twisted his hands to grip Clint and swung himself between Clint’s outstretched legs. Clint pulled Bucky back through, using the momentum to lift him in the air. As he came down from the lift, Bucky wrapped his legs around Clint’s waist and they dropped hands so Bucky could do a backbend. Clint held his waist and guided Bucky into a handstand.

From there Bucky flipped upright, facing Clint and raised his arms, flicking his hands towards Clint. The chorus surged to surround Clint, holding hands as they did a series of pas de chat in a tight circle around him. It wouldn’t have been so tight, Clint thought wryly, if he’d been in their number like he was supposed to.

As they formed a dome with their arms over their heads, Clint dropped to one knee. Their arms pulsed in time to the music, and Clint curled up on the ground, face pressed into his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. The music swelled and the circle of dancers opened to reveal Clint, who stayed curled in the fetal position. He hugged himself tightly as two of the spiders dragged him off stage before running back for their victory dance. It would be uneven without him, and he briefly considered putting his tutu back on to join them for a very late entrance before he looked up to see a pair of angry stage managers standing over him.

“What was that?” one of them whisper-shouted, shaking Clint’s abandoned wig in one hand.

“Eddie looked like he was dying and I couldn’t find either of you,” Clint explained as he got to his feet. “Is he okay?”

“He’s on his way to the hospital,” the other stage manager grudgingly admitted.

“That was still incredibly stupid and dangerous!” the first one continued to whisper-shout and shake his wig.

“Uh huh,” Clint said, raising an eyebrow. “Can I get my wig back?” he asked, holding out his hand so the stage manager would stop abusing his poor wig.

He handed it back to Clint, asking, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, but I’m not seeing what other options I had,” Clint explained. “It was either switch places with Eddie or go on with the chorus and have Eddie try to push through and throw up or collapse on stage. I think I picked the better option.”

“You’re not even the Venom understudy!” he said, glaring at Clint. “You or Bucky could have been seriously hurt!”

“The Venom understudy is Marcello, who was already onstage,” Clint protested. “Neither of you was here to tell me what to do, so again, I’m not seeing what other options I had.”

The stage manager was prevented from answering by the flood of chorus members streaming off stage. They were greeted by a bevy of quiet “what the fuck”, “what happened”, and “where’s Eddie”.

Before anyone could answer them, the chorus was running back onstage for their bows. Clint watched them go before turning back to the stage managers with a raised eyebrow.

The calmer of the two rolled her eyes and said, “go ahead,” with a deep sigh.

Clint shoved his bedraggled wig back on his head, and ran out for Venom’s bow after the audience slowed their clapping for Steve’s Mary Jane. The crowd roared as he came out, taking a deep bow before stepping back to hold hands with Junjie on his right.

Bucky waited a few beats after the applause died down before slowly walking out to take his bows. After he stepped back to join the rest of the company, he gestured down to the orchestra pit, up to the crew, and then took hands with Steve and Clint to lead the bows as a company.

The second after the curtain dropped, Clint found himself surrounded by Trocks demanding to know where Eddie was (Steve), why he’d taken over as Venom (Marcello), and was he trying to give him a heart attack on stage (Bucky).

Clint threw up his hands in a futile effort to stop the torrent of questions. “I don’t know what happened with him, he’s on his way to the hospital, and I didn’t know what else to do,” he blurted out.

“The hospital?”

“Is he hurt?”

“What happened?”

“Did you shank him?”

“Which hospital?”

“Are you sure you didn’t shank him?”

Clint put his head in his hands as the questions continued. “I don’t know guys,” he told them again. “I saw him for like two minutes and he said he was dizzy and looked like he was gonna pass out or puke, so I made him give me his costume so we could finish the show. I definitely didn’t shank him, what the hell Wade?”

The buzz of questions continued as the company trooped down to the dressing room. Most of them had just finished changing out of their costumes and washing off their makeup when the artistic director stepped into the room. The room slowly went silent as they all turned to look at her.

“As I’m sure you all know by now, Eddie had to be taken to the hospital after being unable to finish his performance as Venom tonight. He wanted everyone to know he’s going to be fine, but is being admitted for an emergency appendectomy. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you all keep him in your thoughts during his recovery.”

The room burst out in a heated chatter at her announcement, but Clint whipped out his phone instead of joining in.

“Dude, did your appendix burst onstage???” he texted Eddie.

The text notification popped up a few minutes later.

“No but it was close/ Thx for going on/ Everyone ok?”

“NP, we’re fine, but HOLY SHIT MAN/ glad you’re gonna be okay”

Bucky walked over and peered over Clint’s shoulder. “Is that Eddie?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Clint said, tipping his head back to knock gently into Bucky’s.

“What the fuck?” Bucky exclaimed. It took Clint a second to realize he was reading the latest text from Eddie, not commenting about the head bump.

“Yea, after emergency surgery and a bunch of antiparasitics to kill off the tapeworm that was blocking my appendix” he’d written.

Clint squawked before texting, “THE TAPEWORM!??!?!?!” and a bunch of scream emojis.

Eddie replied with four sweat-smile emojis before writing, “guess I ate some undercooked meat” with a shrug emoji. “guess that’s why I was feeling shitty and losing weight too”.

“Oh my god,” Bucky groaned, beating his head against Clint’s shoulder.

Clint turned to face Bucky, who was looking absolutely miserable. “Hey, what’s with that face?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you’re having tapeworm appendicitis too.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, it’s just… he was my partner for how long and I didn’t see this? Was I that self-absorbed that I didn’t notice my dance partner’s declining health? The whole reason I kept doing all those extra practices with you was because Eddie kept saying he was too tired for the extra practices.”

Clint laid his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re professional dancers. We hide everything under a thick layer of pancake makeup and a smile, you know that. Besides, if we hadn’t done all those practices together I probably would have dropped you on your head tonight.”

Bucky gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. You probably wouldn’t have dropped me on my head, though.”

“Well, not by accident at least,” Clint joked, sticking his tongue out. “Hey, you wanna come with me to buy Eddie a get well basket and fill it with gummy worms?”