Fics like matilda.

Eddie was— Eddie was. Eddie’s brown eyes flashed behind his eyelids whenever he closed his own. His voice echoed in his head as he laid down to sleep. He imagined his sharp canines sinking into his throat every time he wrapped a hand around himself, biting into his knuckles until they bled to keep quiet. He wanted. He craved. And that was his problem. He knew Eddie better than anyone, and worse, Eddie trusted him. Eddie trusted good ole reliable Buck, the best friend, the babysitter, the guy to call in a crisis. He didn’t know about the cavernous hole that housed a snaggled beast, hidden behind his organs, in a place Buck didn’t have a name. He didn’t know how fucked up and needy Buck was. So, Buck did what he did. He plastered on a smile, was punctual to every movie night, joked with Eddie in between every call, and tamed the lonely monster that nipped at his heels, inching closer and closer every day to ripping open his carotid artery Or, the one where Buck wants, wants, and wants.

Fics like matilda.

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