I am tossing this thought blindly into the fandom. as an offering.
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When you had offered to relieve some of Eddie’s stress, you weren’t necessarily expecting this.
The poor man had been running himself absolutely ragged. Even after the reset, he still wasn’t used to the idea of relaxing. There was always something more to be done, and who better than him to do it? Stubborn man. It would be infuriating if it wasn’t just a little bit endearing.
You managed to corner him one day after the bar had closed. Your original plan was to get him to lay down, just rest for once in his life. Eddie, on his end, had a different idea.
And while you certainly aren’t complaining, it also wasn’t what you had in mind.
But when Eddie’s tongue rolls against your clit, and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs with a groan that sends a jolt of electricity straight through your core - you can’t really seem to recall what it is you wanted in the first place.
Desperately, you grip at his wired hair, unintentionally rolling your hips to rock against his open mouth. It’s like your body just can’t get enough of him, moving on its own accord to whatever he desires.
Your words come out as gasps, heart hammering in your chest as you watch him devour you, his eyes closed as he savors the taste of you. “Eddie,” you croak. “You really should-” you whimper as his tongue rolls against you. “You should be resting.” You meekly finish, knowing your words are falling on deaf ears.
Storm gray eyes open to look at you. From this angle, it does something to you you’re not sure you want to admit. Seeing him on his knees, mouth against you as he watches you with that look - you’ve seen it before. It’s the look he gives you when he sees you dancing with Volt, or when you’re up late at night working on maintenance together. It’s a mix of longing that you’ve come to associate with him, and adoration. Because oh, does he adore you. Eddie is a man of few words, and his actions are meaningful. It would be difficult not to know, not when his touch on your skin feels like a prayer. Not when he leans in close to hear your voice over the loud music at the bar, he somehow never misses a word you have to say. Even when you’re chattering while he fixes things, even when you think he isn’t listening- he is. How else would he know your favorite drink without asking? And have it ready for you by the time you arrive at the breaker box? Nothing can escape his notice, not when it comes to you.
His hands run down your thighs, squeezing slightly just to hear your breath hitch in that heavenly way. “I am.” He simply grunts, before getting back to it.
He’s always had a bit of an… Oral fixation. If he had it his way, he’d spend an entire day with his head between your thighs, the sound of your overstimulated whimpers and cries only adding fuel to the flames.
He should be resting, he works so hard. You almost repeat yourself but then his nose bumps against you, and he moans so deliciously sinful you only squeeze his hair tighter and pull him closer.
At least he isn’t working anymore, right?
Peri -------------------
(volt is not pictured here but trust he's there in spirit. maybe one day i will write something with him we'll see)
