𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: during a quiet afternoon, you and eddie discuss (hypothetical) wedding songs.
author's note: it feels right to repost this the day before valentine's. i hope you all have, or someday find, a love that makes you feel the same way i do when i listen to the song referenced in this story <3
"Have you ever thought about what song you're gonna want to play at your wedding?"
You were both sitting at the old brown couch of the Munson's front porch, the afternoon breeze blowing through the unusually quiet Trailer Park. There were no dogs barking, no kids running, no yelling coming from a neighbor's trailer. Only the sun, the late autumn chill, and the gentle breeze.
Eddie was lying down, his head on top of your crossed legs as you played with his hair. Your question caught him off-guard, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.
"You mean at our wedding?"
He could tell you were flustered by the way you hesitated to answer, brows furrowing, trying to disguise it. The urge to lift himself up and give you a smacking kiss on the forehead was temporarily buried inside, waiting to hear what you had to say. "I don't know. Like, a hypothetical wedding. With a hypothetical bride."
His answer was earnest, though.
"The only bride that's ever come to mind is you, babe."
"Just answer the damn question!" You exclaimed, rising both of your hands in the air.
"I just told you I don't know! I've never thought about getting hitched, never mind what song I'd want to play at the ceremony."
This bit was earnest as well. Eddie had never, in his twenty years, thought about getting married. His parents' disaster of a relationship made sure that he'd never seen marriage as something healthy, let alone an option. There were also his beliefs that marriage was a failed institution made to subjugate people, and that the church and the state shouldn't have a say in people's relationships.
Eddie thought he'd be like Wayne and live his life without a partner, just go through with it by himself. It was much less complicated, even if lonely.
He was seldom lonely now, with you in his life — and though you were way too early in your relationship, or too young and inexperienced, to think about marriage, if he was to think about it, it would be with you. Every one of his other thoughts ran to you, this one would be no different.
"Not the ceremony. A first dance kind of song, you know?"
He considered a few options for a moment, in silence, but he was still curious to know what you were thinking. "If you're asking me that question, that means that you already know yours, don't you?"
"You don't know that. I'm just asking." You shrugged, lowering your voice, suddenly vulnerable. "Forget what I said."
"Sweetheart…" Eddie laid fully on his back, looking up at you. "Tell me what's the song."
Narrowing your eyes at him from above, you grabbed his chin, squishing his lips for a second. "You're gonna laugh at me."
"When have I ever…" Remembering all the times, in the early days of your blossoming friendship, where he followed you around the record store with the sole purpose of laughing at your music choices, he stopped, scoffing at himself. "Don't answer that."
Gently, you pushed him off of you and stood up, silently going into the house.
"Just tell me! Now I want to know." Eddie protested as he followed you inside.
He watched as you went into his room, bent down at the waist — and what a view that was, he thought to himself, not trusting to make a lewd comment to distract you from the moment — and quickly looked through his records, finally pulling one from the crate.
Trying to think of what it could be, because he had no idea what song in his large collection of tapes and long plays could possibly be enough of your taste to be played at your (hypothetical) wedding. When he saw it, though, it clicked.
It was a copy of The Beatles' "Revolver". His only copy of an album by your favorite band. You had gifted it to him after he told you he found the experimentation, and all the drug references, in it "badass". He really did, and he was happy to own it as long as it made you happy.
Still silent, you put it in the record player above his dresser, and selected a track without looking at the listing in the back cover, most likely commiting each one of them to memory. His heart swelled as he watched you turn around, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, struggling to meet his eyes as the song started.
"To lead a better life
I need my love to be here…"
Paul McCartney's voice and the two-voice harmony that accompanied him was the only thing that could be heard in his bedroom for a moment, until you started explaining yourself.
"When I was younger, sometimes… Actually, I still do that…" you started, "I listen to this song when I'm alone, and I feel like swaying to it. Like I'm slow dancing with someone, you know? Two steps to the left, two steps to the right." You did a little dancing motion, lightening up the mood. "It's the perfect song to dance to, but I'd never had a partner to dance with me. So I'd dream about it, about the day I'd have someone who'd love me enough to dance with me."
Your sad smile broke his heart, but what put it together was knowing he could be the one to dance with you.
"It's such a simple song, really. Just a guitar and the vocal harmonies, but it's… it's beautiful. Makes me feel like I'm floating, or something." You continued.
Eddie approached you, then, pulling you forward by both of your hands and making you stand flush to his chest, where he held you by the waist with one arm, the other raising to hold the hand that wasn't resting on his shoulder.
"I'm not much of a dancer, but I'll dance to any song you want to."
It was a murmur, a promise whispered by his lips touching your hairline. You chuckled, your head resting on his collarbone, and began swaying the two of you just as you said before. Two steps to the left, two to the right.
Eddie added his own flair, spinning you around, and it was worth it just to see the you giggled. The song wasn't long, a little over two minutes long, but it was long enough to trap you in your little world, your hypothetical wedding dance, in his very real, very messy bedroom.
"So… is that our wedding song?" He teased, still holding you, after it was over.
You slapped his arm lightly, but he could feel you smiling against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "It could be."
"I like it, baby."
Then, you look up, wrapping your arms around his lean waist. "Really?"
"I like whatever makes you feel like you're floating."
"Do you wanna know what else makes me feel like that?"
"Weed?"
"You."
At that moment, Eddie still knew he didn't want the church or the state to be involved in your relationship, but he wouldn't mind throwing a party just to make the most beautiful girl in the world float around the room for one night.
*ೃ༄ Console me!
synopsis: comforting the jjk men from their insecurities!
features: gojo, megumi, yuji, nanami, choso, takuma
Summary | You’re not the most pleasant person to wake up, so Eddie decides to stick it out in Gareth’s basement.
Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers (eventually), Cursing…
Pairing | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader
Word Count | 1.3k
An | I haven’t written in a while, I’ve had no motivation, so I’m so sorry this sucks😭 Hopefully I’ll be able to get something better out soon!!
“So… Who’s gonna wake her up?” Jeff asks.
All the boys stare at you from your spot on the couch. Face smooshed against the small pillow you used to cushion your head. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but whatever movie Gareth had chosen for that night had you passed out 30 minutes in.
“I mean, obviously Eddie, right?” Grant says, brow raised as he looks over at him, smirking as Eddie looked back at him with squinted eyes.
Yes. Eddie knew that was probably his responsibility right now, he had driven you over and he was supposed to drive you back to your trailer.
“Well, me and Jeff gotta go, so… have fun waking up, the princess…” He teases as he pats Eddie’s shoulder and he and Jeff make their way to Gareths front door.
Eddie actually preferred nights when the movie hangouts were held over at anyone else’s house. The other boys enjoyed them more at his trailer, no adults to interrupt and basically free rein. Which is why Eddie dreaded having them at his place, it’s not that he didn’t like his friends he just didn’t like having a hoard of teenage boys loose around his safe space.
You were a completely different story though. Movies night with you at his trailer were probably his favorite, but he’s not about to admit that to you.
And when you would conk out at his place he’d just let you sleep. It has come very apparent to everyone in the group that waking you up was not for the weak.
You were definitely snippy to say the least, you weren’t too fond of the way you acted after being woken up either. Probably something you should work on, but that’s beside the point.
Eddie and Gareth are left with you, and Gareth chuckles lightly at the small dribble of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. He won’t lie, he thinks you're cute, but he has to keep his staring to a minimum cause the few times Eddie had caught him staring at you the look he shot him was nothing short of scary.
“Well, Go ahead.” Gareth says with an all too cocky smirk.
“Can we just crash here? I mean, she looks kinda peaceful… we wouldn’t want to disturb that…”
“Pussy.” Gareth says with a chuckle but immediately shut up as he sees the look in Eddie’s eyes.
Jeez. There it is again. Gareth will never know how he can hold so much power with just one look. But it has him muttering a quiet ‘sorry’.
“Yeah, you can crash here, I’ll bring some pillows and blankets down…” And he’s already quick on his feet to head upstairs. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs as he takes in seat on the floor next to where you legs are set. He leans his head back on the couch and looks up at you.
He immediately clocks the dampened spot on the pillow, right by where your mouth laid. He chuckles slightly at the sight.
Of course you’re a drooler. And of course this is the one time he doesn’t find it disgusting. He rolls his eyes again, and looks forward. Letting out a sigh feeling slightly annoyed with himself. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it though, thankfully, cause Gareth is coming back down stairs with pillows and blankets.
He stands to help, grabbing some of the pile off of him, dropping a pillow and blankets down to the floor for himself and then taking the rest.
“Are you actually scared to wake her?” Gareth asks, his tone is still slightly playful. Eddie does find himself impressed sometimes by how persistently annoying Gareth can be without giving up, but not right now.
Eddie stares at Gareth blankly for a second before letting out a sigh, “Only like a tiny bit.” He tries to defend but Gareth still chuckles lightly.
“Well, you know where everything is so… I’ll leave you to it. Night.” He says as he begins making his way back up the stairs to his room.
Turning his gaze back to you, Eddie moves himself closer to you, and as carefully as he can he lifts your legs from the floor onto the couch. You grumble quietly but never fully wake up. He grabs one of the blankets for you and lazily throws it on to you. He watches how it lands imperfectly.
And for what feels like the umpteenth time that night he rolls his eyes before what seems to be an attempt to tuck you in. He doesn’t understand how you have the powers to pull him to do such things but you do.
Once you’re more efficiently covered he plops himself down to the floor, adjust his pillow and throws the blanket over himself. He feels exhausted for some reason. Mostly likely from Gareth's shitty movie choice, and it has him ready to pass out.
And fortunately it doesn’t take him long.
But not too long after you find yourself waking up, eyes heavy as they let themselves slightly open. The rooms dark as you take it in and it clicks that this is not your room.
You sit up in a panic. Shit did Eddie really leave you here?!
“Fuck!” You whispered panicked as you swing your legs over the edge of the couch and your feet crush down onto something soft. You fall back down to the couch as whatever you just stepped on lets out a loud groan and your eyes widen.
“Shit! Fuck! I’m sorry, I uh- I thought you left…” You look down at him guiltily, “I’m sorry…”
Eddie lets out an exhausted sigh as he runs his hands down his face and sleepily says, “I wouldn’t just leave you here, Y/n.” His tone is slightly annoyed and you can’t blame him, waking up to a foot in the gut is not the best, and somehow he’s still being nicer than you would have been. 10x times nicer.
“No?” You ask quietly as you lay yourself back down onto your pillow, continuing to stare at him from over the edge.
Looks over to you and grumbles out “No…” And he lets his eyes close again, but they quickly snap open at the feeling of your hand on his stomach, right where you stepped.
You give it a small rub before saying, “Again, I’m really sorry…” You pull your hand away but he can still feel a sort of tingling in his stomach where you laid your hand on him, overpowering the painful foot to the gut feeling present before.
“It’s fine…” he whispers.
“Can we- can we go home? I really, really don’t want to sit and eat breakfast with Gareth's dad again…” He chuckles tired at that. Every time they’ve all spent the night there, they had to deal with whatever bullshit Gareth’s dad was talking about way too fucking early, so he’s all for leaving.
“Yeah, c’mon…” grunts slightly as he rises from his spot on the floor. He throws his pillow and blanket onto the couch by yours and you both quietly slip out of the house and make your way to his van.
The drive back to the trailer park was quiet, you both were too tired for conversation, but once you arrived home and he parked in front of your trailer you hopped out and walked to his side of the van. He quickly rolled the window down as you walked closer.
“You don’t need to be scared to wake me up, Eddie…” you smirk at him, and he’s narrowing his eyes.
“I’m not scared.” He groans out.
“Right…” You’re smiling as you pat his shoulder and begin walking up the stairs to your door, you turn and say, “I promise I’ll try and be less of a pain in the ass about it…” And then you walk inside. He smiles and puts the van into drive and he makes his way over to the trailer across from yours.
He passes out the second his head hits his pillow. But he’s definitely gonna hold you to that promise.
That’s my wife!!!!
I’ve been so uninspired lately all I’ve got are silly lil sketches someone PLEASE inject some ideas into my brain (or my dms tbh)
Imagine coming home after a long day of work or what not and you hear eddie talking to someone, you assume one of eddies friends or his uncle is over so you head in to the living room to greet eddie and who ever just to find eddie with like four maine coon kittens he glances over at you and smiles "look what i found in a box babe we can keep them right? I didn't wanna leave them out in the cold or well in general"
NO you did NOT just invoke The Maine Coon Principle™️?!?! 🙀 (This is one of my bestie’s favourite breeds and she’s had numerous over the years, and I’ve even been lucky enough to look after them at my house on occasion).
“Four, Eddie? You’ve brought four cats into the house? You realise we live in an apartment, right?! Well, they are pretty cute, maybe we can keep one. Ohhh, their fur is so sofffft… Okay, maybe two. What do you mean, we can’t split them up because they’ll pine for each other? I’ll split something in a minute… Stop making that face at me. You know I can’t say no to you when you make that face… Don’t- don’t touch me either. Stop. Stop it! Okay, okay, I submit, I submit! We’ll keep them all, Jeez… You gotta promise to help out with the litter though…”
Eddie calls the white one Falcor, and he spends most of his time lounging on sunny windowsills. Despite what you’d heard about white cats, he’s not deaf. Unless you’re scolding him for something, in which case he most definitely invokes his selective hearing.
The grey and white one is Ozzy. He’s the biggest, and he has a wild expression and demeanour that mirrors his namesake. He does what he likes, when he likes, and couldn’t give a dead mouse about what you think.
The brownish-black one Eddie calls Bear, because, well, he is one. He’s a massive softie (just like Eddie), and will find the most inconvenient and inappropriate times and positions in which to demand affection. On the phone to your boss? His butt is in your face. Trying to cook? He’s pawing at your sleeves from the kitchen counter (what is he doing up there anyway?! Get down Bear, you know you’re not allowed up there!)
And the smallest one, a tabby who’s still in reality much larger than your average domestic cat, is called Pickle, because she’s a cheeky minx and is always getting into scrapes. Once, you thought she’d disappeared because you didn’t see her for days, but it turned out she’d made a home on top of the kitchen cabinets. And that time you had to have the flooring up to fix an electrical fault, she managed to sneak down there and came back with fur absolutely covered in cobwebs and, you suspect, a belly full of spiders.
You keep them as house cats because your apartment’s on the fourth floor and there’s no safe space to let them out. And you wouldn’t want to anyway, because they’ve all grown up to be so pretty that you just know some crazy person would take a liking to them and try to steal them away. (You sometimes feel a little like this when Eddie’s playing The Hideout, but you’d never let a little healthy jealousy stop him from doing what he loves. Plus, you know he only has eyes for you. And the cats...)
You don’t know for sure whether they’re siblings (though it’s highly likely), but you understand enough about cats to know that won’t stop them *ahem* procreating. So you got them all neutered when the local animal shelter had a promotional offer, making it more affordable. They’re happy and healthy, and you feel secure in the knowledge that there aren’t ever going to be any ‘surprises’ under your bed one night when you get home. Frankly, that day Eddie brought the box home was quite enough of a cat-related shock to last you a lifetime, thank you very much. (PSA: NEUTER YOUR CATS!)
They eat you out of house and home, the litter thing is never ending, and the hair issue (that was already bad enough just with Eddie shedding his voluminous locks) makes you want to move out sometimes.
But the look on Eddie’s face when Pickle tries to climb between him and his guitar when she wants cuddles, and when two, some times three of them curl up on top of you both when you snuggle down for a movie night, makes it all worthwhile.
There’s debate about whether this breed are either extremely intelligent, or actually a bit stupid. You think you could say the same about Eddie, and you’re still undecided about either the cats or him. You suspect it’s actually a mixture of both. And you wonder whether that’s one of the (many) reasons why you love him, and your found cat family, so very, very much.
🐱🐈
Tagging my general taglist, even though none of you have ever asked to be notified about any cat-related content 😹😹: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi
Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader
summary: You and Eddie think that your feelings for each other aren't reciprocated but you both couldn't be more wrong
cw: hurt/comfort
This is part two to Flattery Works With Me
You sat in the front seat of Eddie’s van picking at the skin around your finger nails as a metal song played from the speakers loudly. You had been in his van many times since he always gave you rides to the DnD sessions, but this was different. He was going to come into your house. He was going to see your room, and that terrified you. You knew he would never make fun of you for anything, but you were still embarrassed considering that you still had some things left from your childhood, like some boy band posters and stuffed animals that you couldn’t get yourself to get rid of.
Eddie, though, was looking forward to seeing where you lived. The place always looked cozy when he drove up to it and now he was going to see if it actually was. He was looking forward to seeing your room, wondering if it was as sweet as you, if it was what he had been imagining. He was looking forward to helping you with your homework, honestly anything that meant he got to spend time with you. Alone. Those twenty minute car rides were the highlight every week and now he was going to hang out with you as long as you would have had him.
“You okay over there?” Eddie asked, drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that was playing. He then reached over and turned the volume dial, making the music a bit lower so he could hear you when you spoke.
You slowly turned to him just in time to see his warm smile before he turned back to face the road. You thought about his question, wondering how you should have answered it, trying to figure how to word it without spilling the entire truth. That you had a huge crush on him and were nervous to be hanging out with him alone because you were concerned that you were going to tell him the truth and he was going to reject you.
And you couldn’t have that, you just couldn’t. He was the best friend you ever had and there was no way that you were going to bring feelings into the mix. Everything was great and you weren’t going to ruin it by telling him that you liked him romantically. So, you swallowed the confession down like a large pill then turned to him, plastering on the best smile you could muster even though your heart was breaking a little.
“I’m good,” you nodded. Eddie wasn’t buying it, but he was going to press you on it. If you had something that was bothering you, you’d tell him. At least, he hoped that you would.
“Alright,” he replied as he turned into your driveway and your heart rate picked up. “Good.” He got out of the van then rounded the front of it before opening the door for you and helping you out of your seat. You led him to the front door, very aware that you were still holding hands, but you wouldn’t dare let go. His was soft and rough and there was something about it that made you instantly feel comforted.
You let go of his hand and reached for your backpack, opening the smallest pocket and pulling out your keys. Eddie watched you, wondering why he was falling in love with you as you were doing something so mundane as unlocking your door. But there he was, looking at you like you had hung the moon, feeling like he was going to throw up from how overwhelmed with the feeling he was. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he didn’t think it was right. He didn’t think there was any way that you’d be interested in a freak like him. He was lucky enough to have you as a friend and he sure as hell wasn’t going to push it by telling you that he was totally and completely head over heels for you.
The door opened and Eddie followed you inside, kicking off his shoes as he watched you do the same thing. He followed you into the kitchen like a lost puppy, getting distracted by all of the decorations that lined the walls. He was about to enter the kitchen when he spotted a framed photo that was hanging by the entrance. It was a photo of you from when you were about seven. You were reading a book, facing your palm towards the camera as if you didn’t want to have your photo taken. He shook his head with a chuckle since seemingly nothing had changed.
“Do you want some orange juice?” You asked and Eddie stepped into the kitchen, seeing that you already had two glasses out along with the carton. He wasn’t really a big fan of the beverage, but there was no way in hell he was saying no to you.
“I’d love some,” he smiled and you poured him a glass before handing it to him. Your fingers brushed his and your were beginning to panic at the way your hands were touching, deciding that you needed to move away as soon as possible.
You watched him bring the glass up to his lips, wondering what they would have felt like slotted between yours, if they were as soft as they looked. He finished off half the glass then set it down on the counter and you couldn’t help but notice that some of the juice had dribbled down his chin. You stared at him, wanting to wipe away from him, but not quite having the confidence to do so.
“What?” He asked with a chuckle. “Do I have something on my face?” You pointed to the spot on your own chin and he stepped closer pointing his towards you, wanting you to get rid of it for him.
You reached up and wiped the juice away from his chin with your thumb and your hand was removed from his skin before he was ready. He wanted you to pull him towards you and press your lips to his. He wanted to taste your lip gloss, desperate to know what the flavor was. If there was one.
His gaze dropped to your lips and they parted, your eyes widening ever so slightly.. Just when he was about to make the move, you stepped away, smoothing out your dress to distract yourself. You then looked back up at him, clearing your throat as you did so.
“Homework?” You asked, the volume of your voice even lower than it usually was.
“Sure, doll,” he nodded. “Homework.”
Eddie grabbed your backpack from where you left it leaning up against the island then let you pass him, leading him out of the kitchen and to the stairs. He slung a strap of your backpack over his shoulder as you ascended the stairs, feeling very out of place considering that the only reason why ever went to a girl’s room was to sleep with them. And you weren’t going to sleep with him. That wasn’t the kind of girl you were, not that it would have mattered if it was.
And you were also shameless about your friendship with Eddie. All of his hookups made him sneak in through their window and make him leave the same way because they were ashamed. They just wanted to have a fun time with Eddie “the freak” Munson and then make him swear to not tell anyone. He always said he didn’t mind, but that kind of treatment does something to a person. Not that Eddie would have admitted that his feelings were hurt by it.
You got to the door of your bedroom and opened it, heading inside with Eddie hot on your heels. You stood in the center of the room awkwardly as he took it in, deciding that it was exactly what he was expecting. He set your backpack down by your desk then pulled out your desk chair, planting himself in it, making himself at home the only way Eddie knew how to do.
He opened up your backpack and pulled out your book, splaying them out of your desk before turning to you, resting his hands on his lap. He patted the spot, inviting you to take a seat and you hesitantly made your way towards him. You turned your back to him and gingerly sat in his lap before he turned the chair back around to face the desk.
“So what’s first?” He asked as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your assignments that were on the desk in front of the both of you. You usually liked doing your homework, but this time, you had no interest in it.
You wanted to lie next to him in your bed, to have him pressed against you while you stared into his eyes as you played with his hair. You then wanted to kiss him. Nothing crazy, just a little peck. And then he’d chase your lips, deciding that he needed more. And then the two of you would make out for hours, your homework completely forgotten.
“Sweetheart?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your waist gently, trying to get your attention. Mission accomplished.
“Hm?” You asked, avoiding his eye contact, knowing that if you looked at him you’d do something that you knew you shouldn’t have. That would have changed your friendship forever and you couldn’t risk losing him because you couldn’t keep your hormones in check.
“I was wondering what you wanted to do first.” His hands were still rubbing against your hips and your mind was reeling of all the things he could have done with those hands. His rough fingers gliding up your soft thighs as he kissed you senseless, but stopping there since he knew that you weren’t comfortable with going any farther.
“Um,” now your brain was short circuiting. There was no way you could focus on anything being that close to him. Feeling his breath on your skin, smelling his cologne that was mixed with the cigarette smoke that lingered on all of his clothing. It was absolutely intoxicating and driving you mad.
You pushed away from the desk to free yourself then stood up, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. He had to go and right then. Your feelings for him were getting overwhelming now that you were alone with him and you were starting to feel sick to your stomach, seeing the worried look on his face.
You turned to face your window, not wanting him to see you like that. It was all too embarrassing. That you had fallen for the boy who you thought was out of your league. The one who definitely only saw you as a friend and now you were mistaking his niceness for attraction and there was no way in hell that was what was going on between the two of you.
“Y/n?” Eddie asked softly as he approached you gently, as if he was trying to show a spooked animal that he wasn’t a threat. He was blaming himself for your sudden mood change. He had gone too far by asking you to sit in his lap and now he had made you uncomfortable.
His hand gently rested on your shoulder and you whipped around, putting your hands out as if to tell him to back up. He put his hands up in defense and did what he assumed you were silently asking.
“Stay back,” you commanded, your voice the loudest he had ever heard and now he knew that he had fucked up. God, he was always screwing up and now he was sure that you were going to kick him out and never invite him back. You’d tell him that he didn’t need to pick you up anymore and you’d stop coming to the DnD sessions. And you’d stop sitting with him and the others at lunch, finding another group to sit with. And it’d be easy for you because you were so likable and a sweetheart.
“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice now getting small. “What did I do?”
You had no idea why he was asking that. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were the problem and now you felt even worse for allowing him to believe that it was his fault.
“Nothing,” you shook your head. “I-I just need you to leave, okay?”
“Y/n, what-” he tried to speak, but you were making a beeline for him, pushing him towards the door. So this really was the beginning of the end. Your friendship really was.
“What are you doing? Why are you kicking me out?” Eddie sounded so hurt that you had to tune him out, not wanting your heart to break any more than it already had.
“Because you have to go. I can’t have you here.”
“Why?” You made the mistake of looking into his eyes and could have sworn that you could hear your heart crack as you saw the sadness take over the pretty brown color, the absolutely heartbroken look on his face. Why did he have to make it even harder to say goodbye?
But you still opened the door and pushed him into the hallway, watching dejection take over his features. You couldn’t stand to look at him anymore and it was getting frustrating that he wouldn’t just leave.
“Because I can’t look at you without wondering what your lips would feel like against mine. I can’t stop wondering what it’s like to be cuddled up with you on the couch as we watch a horror movie, knowing that you’ll let me bury my head into your neck when they get too scary. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you reciprocated my feelings, but you don’t so you have to go.”
With that, you slammed the door in his face and waited for him to come back. To tell you that you were wrong and that he did love you. But he didn’t. You just stared at the closed door, feeling tears well up in your eyes as the seconds passed, further proving that he wasn’t coming.
You turned away from the door and stared out your window, watching the leaves fall from the trees, wondering why you had to go and fuck everything up. If you hadn’t said a word and just pushed down your feelings, Eddie would have still been there. Your friendship would have still been intact and you wouldn’t have been crying because you had fucked up.
The door was ripped open and Eddie made a beeline for you, grabbing you by the wrist and turning you around to face him. Before you could even process what was happening, his lips were slotting between yours in a passionate kiss. You gasped into his mouth, but quickly melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his went to your waist.
Your lips slotted together like two puzzle pieces and his were a little chapped, but still as soft as you had imagined. You honestly couldn’t believe it was happening. That after months of pining for him, he had actually reciprocated your feelings. That you were both standing in your room, kissing, and it was everything you had dreamed it would be.
“Please don’t kick me out again,” he whispered against your lips. “I love you so much that I can't stand being away from you.”
“I won’t,” you whispered. “Stay as long as you like.”
Eddie’s lips found yours again and this time, his tongue swiped along the seam of your lips and you quickly opened up, letting him inside as you pulled him towards you even more so that your bodies were touching, wanting to leave absolutely no space between the two of you.
“Strawberry,” he mumbled against your lips.
“What?” You asked through a breath, having no idea what he was talking about.
“Your lip gloss,” he replied, reaching up and pushing some hair behind your ear. “It tastes like strawberry.”
“Mhm,” you nodded. “Want another taste?”
“Of course,” he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips and you pouted at how short it was. “Already can’t get enough of me, hm?” He chuckled.
“No,” you shook your head. “I’m going to need to kiss you all the time now.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled again, resting his hands against your cheeks. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” With that, he pressed another kiss to your lips, that being your third of many of the night. And even though there were plenty more where that came from, he still felt the need to savor them, wanting to go as slow as he could just so he had more time. Now that he had a little taste, he just knew that he was going to be kissing you any chance he got.
Sukuna x f!Reader
In which Sukuna brings home child Uraume — 1
next —>
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief as you stared at the child hiding behind your husband's legs and peaking at you.
Sukuna didn't pay attention to your questioning stare, he simply sauntered in to your shared home and tossed the meat he had hunted on the table. As if it was just an average day for the two of you.
Except it wasn't because there was a child right next to him.
"Um... Love?" You questioned softly.
"What?" He grunted.
"Mind telling me who... that is?"
Sukuna crossed his upper arms while resting his lower on his hips. He shrugged. "Our ice house is no more. This child can create ice so I brought them home."
Of course he did. Leave it to your husband to replace an actual functioning cooler with a literal child.
Speaking of a cooler...
"The icehouse is broken? I swear it was perfectly fine when I went there this morning..." You mused.
But a quick glance outside the window confirmed that it was indeed broken. Crushed by a tree and blood splattered everywhere from the meat stored inside of it.
And just one look at the fallen tree, you can tell what—no, who was responsible for this destruction. There was a large, clean cut right at its base.
You turned to your husband with an accusing frown but he opted to not look at you. He knows that the moment he locked eyes with you, he'll have to face your wrath and.... He'd rather not.
You sighed and shook your head before walking over to the child who stepped away from you the moment you got closer.
You stopped, keeping your distance and smiled kindly. "It's okay. Don't be afraid, little one. I won't hurt you."
Your voice was soft, your eyes were kind so when the child looked up at Sukuna and saw the way he was looking at you, they knew you were trustworthy.
And yet...
"You won't harm me but... I can harm you." Was what the child spoke.
Your heart sank at their words and the way they looked away. Their gaze was an empty and distant void. This poor child...
But the King of Curses scoffed at their words. "Go to her. As long as I am here you cannot harm her."
You were surprised at how this child had came to trust Sukuna that they took his word and slowly stepped over to you. Besides you, no one else in this land would ever dare trust him. Then again, your husband never gave them a reason to.
You went down on your knees to be at the child's level. A small, loving smile graced your features as you reached over to brush your fingers against their cheek.
Ice cold.
But that didn't stop you as you brushed their hair in comfort. "You poor thing... Just what have you been through?" You asked softly.
The child kept quiet, their eyes gathered with unshed tears. They closed it to stop them from flowing down. And then, very very tentatively they leaned into your touch.
"...You're warm." They mumbled.
Your heart warmed at those soft words. You were happy that this child had found comfort in you.
Despite being the King of Curses' wife, you loved children. You always wanted one of your own. You had even managed to convince your husband to have a child together.
But those dreams were far gone when you found out you were infertile.
It took a while but you had gotten over it. Though part of you still wished that you can have that. A small family with your husband.
So when you looked up at Sukuna, that's when you noticed his gaze. A look that was only reserved for you. Tender, soft and... loving. But there was another meaning behind it...
This is my gift to you.
Your heart leaped and you felt tears gathering in your eyes. The smile you gave him was nothing short of radiant that had him looking away from you. But you knew he was flustered just from the red tint on the tip of his ears.
You laughed softly and got on your feet, gently pulling the child close to you. "What's your name, little one?"
"Uraume."
You hummed. "Uraume... What a beautiful name. Are you hungry, Uraume?"
Uraume felt their stomach grumble just then so they softly nodded.
"Very well, then I'll get started on dinner."
Uraume looked up at you, their pinkish eyes staring at you with a curious glint. "Can I help?" They asked.
You smiled, running a gentle hand through their white hair.
"Of course."
next —>
an; uh …… shhhhh look away please. or don’t. i don’t mind. i just wanted to do something a tad bit angsty & sweet. i also cannot stop thinking about him at the moment. or joseph in general. so enjoy. w; lower case intended! also just went ham on this one — no grammar check or anything. just straight to the point.
11:35pm.
it’s late and the food on the table that you’d placed in a specific order is cold, stale more than likely. the wine is bitter going down, warm.
it was something special for johnny — something you wanted to surprise him with. a homemade dinner, with candles, and a relaxing night.
yet, he still wasn’t home like he said he would be.
scratching at your forehead, you take another sip of wine, hoping it would taste different this time. it didn’t. it makes you wince slightly at the taste as you stand from the table.
flipping on the lights, you blow out the candles before grabbing the plates, putting johnny’s back into the cabinet, but scraping any left overs into the trash from your own before placing it into the sink.
you don’t pause the cleaning you’re doing when you hear the front door open and the sound of keys dropping into the bowl next to the door.
“hey, sweetheart. how was—” his words slowly trail off when he notices the table. a new table runner and lace cloth covered the oak, nice crystal glasses sat out, the food that was now being placed into tupperware. “what’s all this?”
you shrug, snapping the lid on a bowl filled with some grilled chicken. “leftovers.” your answer is short, voice even as you turn and place it to the side before moving onto the green beans.
he frowns a bit, eyes darting back and forth between the table, counter, and you. you look pretty even if you’re wearing one of his button-ups, face bare, yet the strawberry chapstick he knows you have on glosses your lips.
stepping into the kitchen a bit more, he notices the smoke that drifts into the air from the burnt wick of the candle. the frown he already has deepens as his eyes finally dart back to you.
“what was all of this for?”
for someone so smart, he was stupid.
“well, since you told me you were going to be home early tonight — for the first time in a while — i thought i’d surprise you with something nice,” you hum softly, letting out a small laugh as you shake your head. “turns out, it would’ve been better for me to go on to bed.”
you’re not truly mad at johnny — well, only a bit — you’re mad that you haven’t spent time with him in a couple of weeks.
that’s all you wanted. time.
johnny is quick to step closer, grabbing your hands that reach for the dirty plates. “no, i’ll get that,” he shakes his head. opening your mouth, he’s quick to peck the corner of your mouth. “go lie down. i’ll clean up the rest.”
“johnny, you just—”
“what’s a little more gonna do to me, huh?” a small, playful smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “go lie down. i’ll be there in a minute.”
glancing over at the dirty plates again, a small part of you feels guilty for allowing him to do it, even if he’s offering to put them away.
he pats your side softly, turning and grabbing the dishes himself. you watch quietly before hesitantly stepping off towards your shared bedroom. the streetlight from outside guides your way to the bed.
the sheets had been changed earlier today, a fresh, sweet smell making you inhale deeply and your eyes to slowly close.
you don’t even move under the covers, sleepiness already pulling you under the darkness, the fading car horns from outside the window, surprisingly, lulling you to sleep.
you stir when you feel the bed dip on johnny’s side, eyes slowly opening as you watch him slip you both under the covers.
his arm is gentle as it slides under your head, wrapping around your shoulder. you move closer, your arm draping lazily over his side. your fingers begin to move on their own accord, trailing over his heated side slightly.
“sorry for snapping.” your voice is soft, still laced with sleep. johnny’s eyes glance down, his hand twisting slightly, pushing at the hair that covers your face.
he smiles when he watches your tired eyes lift to look up at him. “it’s alright. don’t apologize.”
“i just miss you.”
he hums, his thumb trailing a small, soothing trail up the side of your neck. “and i miss you,” he whispers. “i’ll take tomorrow off. we’ll sleep in, then make a day to ourselves. how does that sound?”
you nod against his chest, eyes already closing as your mouth pulls into a lazy smile. “that sounds…perfect, actually.”
he snorts quietly to himself, watching as your shoulders drop slowly, sleep overtaking you again. he pulls the cover over your shoulder, pulling you closer with his free hand, slowly dragging it up and down your arm.
closing his own eyes, he lets his lips press against your forehead, the scent of your shampoo carrying him into a comforting sleep.
Eddie Munson loves cellulite.
One day you’re vocal about your insecurity, smoothing on your creams and huffing when you feel like they’re just not working. He asks what you’re so pouty about, when you point to ridges and bumps that had become apart of your body.
“That?” He asks, head tilted in confusion. “That’s what you’re trying to get rid of? Baby, I don’t think so.”
It’s sudden when he kneels behind you in front of the mirror, grabbing onto your hips and pulling you closer to rub his big strong hands up and down your ass and thighs, squeezing at the delicious soft fat he was absolutely convinced was there just for him.
“Oh honey. It appears i’m gonna have to do a better job of lovin’ on you, because I fuckin’ adore this stuff. Selenite, you said?”
“Cellulite,” you correct him with a shy giggle.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s called. Baby- it just makes me wanna devour you even more, do you not see that?”
“I don’t know I just- thought I’d look better if I-”
“Stop.” He interrupts you softly.
He stands, placing a hand to your shoulder before pulling back your hair and pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.
“Go lay down for me, angel. Some things I need to show you.”
Sukuna x f!Reader
In which Sukuna brings home child Uraume — 2
<— previous
It was your scream piercing through the forest that had Sukuna dropping everything and speeding up his steps.
He was coming back from a hunt while you and Uraume were walking through the woods, foraging for ingredients.
It's been a few weeks since Uraume joined you both and since then, you had showered them with nothing but love and affection. Like the child you always wanted.
Sukuna, on the other hand, was teaching the kid how to properly control their technique. It wasn't something he would ever do for anyone but he has grown to... have a soft spot for Uraume.
But when he dashed through the woods and arrived at the scene, Sukuna would never admit the way his heart sank at what he saw.
Ice.
Ice everywhere.
With you slumped against a tree, shaking uncontrollably while Uraume was next to you in tears, screaming and crying as they apologised profusely. Half of your body was covered in ice.
"No! No! My lady, please! I—I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do this! It was an accident—!" The child wailed. Memories of the frozen corpses of their parents rushing through their head.
It was just like that time.
"What have you done?" Sukuna's angered voice had Uraume backing away in fear as he got closer.
Your husband was by you in an instant, taking you in his arms. His eyes raked over your body to assess the damage. He quickly used his RCT to heal you. His heart was in his throat and he didn't stop until color returned to your face and your breathing was even.
You were going to be okay.
You were going to be okay but Sukuna was not going to let this go so easily. You... His everything... was harmed. Had almost brushed against the brink of death.
But when he looked up at Uraume with a rage of a furious storm, he paused.
The child was bowing deeply against the forest ground, body uncontrollably shaking from sobs and their little fists digging into the dirt as they repeated the same thing over again.
"I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't mean—I-I didn't mean to hurt her—!"
And those words stirred something inside Sukuna. A memory. A memory he had buried deep into his mind and vowed to never look back upon ever again.
Of a small, deformed child who had just discovered his dangerous technique.
"How could you do this?!"
"Please, I'm sorry!"
"Do you think sorry will fix this?! Will fix the damage you caused?!"
"I didn't mean to! Mother, I swear—"
"Stay away from me, you wretched thing!"
"Monster!"
"Four eyed demon!"
"He'll bring a curse upon our village!"
"Kill that deformed thing! Kill it—"
"Enough. Stand up and let's go."
"B-But my lady is—"
"She's fine."
The walk back to home was quiet. Uraume had expected their punishment the moment they stepped into the house. But after Sukuna had gently laid you on the futon, the punishment never came.
Instead, the King of Curses placed his large hand on top of the child's head and scowled disapprovingly.
"Brat, did you not get what I taught you? Focus on a single damn point and breathe. That way you'll be able to control your technique. Now—"
Sukuna lead Uraume outside again and stopped a few feet away from a deer and a fawn.
"Kill the fawn and only the fawn." The man ordered.
Uraume was in disbelief. They had fully expected a punishment for what they did but when they looked at Sukuna, there was no malice in his eyes. Instead, impatience clouded those bloodied rubies as he tapped his large foot on the ground, waiting for the moment the child would do something.
With an impossibly warmed heart Uraume turned to the fawn with a smile and followed the malevolent king's instruction.
--
You awoke a few hours later, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as memories of what happened slowly came back. Your heart sank and you tried to get up.
You had to find Uraume. The poor child!
But then you felt small cold arms secured tightly around you. Uraume was curled next you as they slept.
You calmed down and smiled tenderly, running your fingers across their snowy locks.
"They refuse to leave your side."
You looked over to see your husband leaning against the door frame. Your smile widened and you reached out to him.
Sukuna didn't hesitate, pushing himself off and walking over to you. He sat down next to you on the floor and took your delicate hand in his large one.
"I'm surprised they're even at my side."
Sukuna grunted. "They can control their technique now. So expect the brat to be glued to you more often."
You laughed softly. "Oh? And does that have something to do with you, my lovely husband?"
Of course it did because he simply refused to look at you and gave you a mere shrug. He was embarrassed. You could tell.
"My lady...?"
You turned your focus to a sleepy Uraume, gazing at you with an apologetic look.
"My lady, I'm sorry..."
You shushed them, stroking their hair affectionately. "Hush now, little one. It wasn't your fault. Sleep, okay? I'm here..."
Sukuna looked on at you and Uraume quietly. You, his beautiful wife, whispering soothing words to the child who, moments ago, was nothing but terrified of who they were.
And then he thought back to the little deformed boy with four eyes and arms running away with a tear streaked face from a mother who begged the villagers to kill him.
He knew that boy was at peace now.
<— previous
summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.
warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.
wc: 2.5k+
a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink
It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.
Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.”
Until that damn game.
When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections.
“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle.
“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“
“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”
For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now.
“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“
“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”
You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.
More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention.
“Fine.”
The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.
He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.
“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not.
“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?”
“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”
“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”
“Well that makes one of us.”
Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”
He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration.
Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t.
You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“
“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.”
He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.
“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you.
He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.
Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend.
“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“
He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.
You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”
“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?”
You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized.
God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.
“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.”
He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not. You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.
“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”
His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.
“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.
You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight.
And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.
You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game.
“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.”
If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation.
But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat.
Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.
When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.
He bites.
Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.
You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?
If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.
He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture.
Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of.
“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault.
He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent.
Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of.
“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it.
“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.”
Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.”
He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”
“I do not-”
He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point.
“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.”
You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.”
“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”
“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.”
His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.
“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.”
Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.
He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.
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