Hi if you follow my account @/prettyyoungtragedy this morning some fucking asshole hacked my account, CHANGED THE PASSWORD AND EMAIL so I no longer have access to it. @staff
Please could you reblog this so my mutuals could know and if ANYONE KNOWS HOW TO HELP ME GET MY ACCOUNT BACK PLEASE COULD YOU LET ME KNOW!?!?
AND TO THE PERSON WHO HACKED MY ACCOUNT, PLEASE GIVE ME MY ACCOUNT BACK. I DONT WANNA LOSE ALL MY WRITING, THAT SHIT IS MY PRIDE AND JOY!!!
If you follow me and enjoyed my work, in case I can’t get my account back….please give this new account a follow and I’ll try my best to upload all my fics again. I am literally going to be DEVASTATED if I lose my account!!!!!
[a/n; this will be going on my chris evans & sebastian stan + characters masterlist coming soon :) ]
-
“Andy…” you dragged out his name into the phone as you walked out of your last class of today.
“come on, baby. I’ll make it up to you.” he knew your heart ached at another broken promise but you sighed, blinking away your tears.
“It’s just… I thought you’d want to spend my birthday with me.” you mentally smacked yourself at your quivering voice, you knew he had work, you didn’t want to be a burden.
“I swear, doll, i just need to put away some files and clear my schedule for you tomorrow.” you just whispered back an okay and hung up, making his heart sink.
you hopped into your car and threw your heavy college books into the back seat, leaning your forehead on the wheel, trying your best not to cry.
-
“I’m home!” Andy yelled out tired-some as he saw his wife editing her campaign videos, waving at Andy without even looking at him.
“can you drive me to the store, I forgot to pick up some groceries.” Laurie basically demanded as he loosened his tie and complied, waiting for her to exit the door as he walked behind her like a wounded puppy.
-
you decided on getting drunk with some wine on your lonely birthday.
you’d already celebrated with your friends yesterday, you just wanted your special day with Andy.
so you made your way around the convenience store til you instantly identified your boyfriend.
“Andy?” him and a woman turned around, the look on his face was unforgettable, it was sketched in your brain forever.
“[y/n]?” he sputtered out as Laurie smiled awkwardly as she looked at Andy.
“who is this?” the silence was killer, it was either breaking his wife’s heart or destroying yours.
“she… she’s a new employee at the firm. Laurie, this is [y/n] [y/l/n].” you were frozen, you prayed this wasn’t true-
“gosh, sorry, I’m Laurie, his wife.” your breath hitched and you quite almost dropped your bottle of cheap wine.
“we’ve been so busy on the case, he forgot to mention what a lovely wife he has.” Laurie chuckled at your words as you had your eyes glued on the extremely ashamed Andy.
“we should catch up one day, y/n,” she smiled so warmly it broke your heart, “come on, Andy, we gotta pick up jacob from school.”
It just hit you. he has a wife, a son, his own family.
you left Andy standing there like an idiot as you returned the wine and ran out.
-
you barely made it past your apartment door as you dropped to your knees and sobbed, not caring if the neighbors heard.
not more than 3 minutes later, you heard running up the stairs and smelled your dear boyfriend’s perfume.
“baby, please…” he picked you up and closed the door behind you two, slipping inside.
“baby-“ “how could you?” you didn’t even sound angry, you were just so damn heartbroken.
“that woman expects you to be there for her and your son.” you hiccuped, he just never thought this day would come.
“i’m divorcing her.” he commented and got scared of the fiery look in your eyes as your punched at his chest and he clutched your wrists.
“how does that make this better? I loved you, you said you’d never hurt me!” you sobbed, wiggling from his grasp but you stopped fighting, pressing your forehead to his chest in defeat.
he wrapped his arms around you, making you crumble with your soul demolished, a feeling you just couldn’t shake.
“you broke my heart, Andy Barber,” your voice cracked as his tears dropped onto the top of your head.
“everything I wanted with you, you already had it with someone else.” you gripped at his shirt, afraid he’d let you go.
“we can still have it.” he breathed out, knowing at this point, it was unrealistic.
and you cried, trembling in the arms you had once felt so safe in.
“we fell apart, Andy, right from the start.”
words are powerful, Andy knows that more than anything.
damn did you know how to make a grown man break to pieces.
-
[a/n; i love writing angst so much, i hope you guys like this one! ]
There were many pros and cons about living alone that Y/n either loved or hated. She loved not having to worry about dirty roommates trashing the place. She loved that when she came home after work or school, she came home to peace and quiet. She loved that she could walk around naked without anyone complaining about it. Y/n did what she wanted, when she wanted it, and how she wanted it done. All without annoying people telling her otherwise. After all, they didn't pay her bills.
However, she hated how there was no one to divide the chores amongst. She hated spending all her nights alone in her one bedroom apartment. She hated not having someone to remind her of the important things on her to do list (in case she forgot to write it down).
Now as she progressed onto the next step in the recipe, she wished she'd remembered to get more ketchup for her meatloaf. She hit the bottle with the palm of her hand, slammed the top down on the table, and even swung it around to get some of its contents out. Yet, only a splatter of ketchup emptied out into the 1/3 cup, and it obviously wasn't going to suffice.
What made the twenty something year old woman even more frustrated was that she just ran to the store an hour ago to get the ingredients for the meatloaf. There was always to option of quickly running to the store to buy it, but she already cooked majority of the meal. She couldn't leave it sitting out unless she wanted the relentless mice and roaches that infested her San Francisco apartment complex to find their way in her kitchen. She was running out of ideas on what to do, so she called the only person who knew how to handle this. Her grandma.
Fumbling to punch in her number, Y/n paced around the kitchen as the phone rang. On the third ring, her grandma answers. "Hello pumpkin, how ya doin?"
"I'm doin fine grandma, but I was just calling to ask you what to do if you're making meatloaf and you're out of ketchup?"
"Go get some more."
"I know that but I'm kinda tight on time, and I'm really hungry. Plus, y'know if I leave for too long the food's gonna get cold."
"We'll just ask one of your neighbors for ketchup. I'm sure they won't mind lending it to you."
"People still do that? Isn't that kinda weird?"
"At least you're not asking to borrow a cup of sugar. Call me back when you're done, and let me know how it tasted."
She said the I love yous and goodbyes before ending the call. Her grandma was right. All she needed to do was borrow the ketchup, use it, then return it back to it's rightful owner. A task quite simple a kindergartner could do. Besides, it was an amazing opportunity for her to get to know her neighbors.
She lived in room 403 for the past two years without speaking to anyone. Wake up, go to school, go to work, come home, sleep. That was the routine for her day to day life, occasionally going out here and there. The least she could do was try to meet one of her next door neighbors. After all, what's the worst that could happen?
Putting on her slides and her robe, she trotted her way to her neighbor's door. A rusted '402' plaque was nailed onto it, and a sign that read 'Do not enter' hung on it. She took one deep breath before making those fear mongering knocks, ensuring that there was no turning back for her.
Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a guy, who looked no older than twenty-three, dressed in all black and who had black mascara smeared across his face. He looked like one of the cliché scene kids: unfriendly and blunt.
"What do you want," his voice was gravelly and he seemed agitated, almost as Y/n was interrupting something important.
"Uh hi, I'm Y/n your next door neighbor," she stuck out her hand, only for the man to stare down at it before looking up at her. "Ummm... ok. Well I need some ketchup for my meatloaf recipe, and I was wondering if—"
"No," the man interrupted before slamming the door in her face.
She stood there, open mouthed, for a good five seconds before heading back in the direction to her apartment. The next apartment she had to try was apartment 404, the one she dreaded going to. Unlike the other guy, she knew who lived their, and she knew him all too well. Eddie Brock had been the topic amongst discussion between her and her friends she ranted to. Lately, strange noises were coming from his room late at night, it not helping that the walls were as thin as paper.
She could hear him yelling and cussing at someone named Venom. She also heard various things been thrown around and broken. It was hard to study for her midterms when she had a crazed neighbor yelling and throwing things in the middle of the night. It had gotten so bad the she'd had to leave her humble abode to confront him about his volume.
Walking over to his front door, she noticed that it was slightly cracked open. She opened the door wider, getting a look at what his apartment looked like. Newspapers were sprawled across the dining table, clothes lied on the floor, and what looked to be burnt tater tots sat on the counter. It was fairly messy, but it nothing Y/n didn't expect.
"Hello? Eddie you there," she asked, taking the liberty to walk inside.
As rude and disrespectful it was, Y/n was partial worried for her neighbor. The other part of her just wanted to keep some ketchup. With the late night arguments and disarray of his apartment, she was getting worried that something happened to him. Although she hated how inconsiderate he was, she didn't want he man to be hurt, or worse.
She crept further and further into his home, making her way into his living room. "Eddie? It's your neighbor Y/n. I just need to ask you a quest-ahhh"
Eddie came out of his room, towel loosely secured around his waist and water dripping from his body. His abs were toned and defined, water droplets sliding off him and onto the floor. His hair was drenched, it sticking to his forehead. Y/n's eyes drifted from his muscular arms, to his toned chest, all the way down to his—
"Uhhh, what are you doing—" His towel slipped from his waist, partially flashing himself to the young woman.
"Sorry!" she quickly slapped her hands over her face, turning around to face the other way. "Sorry, i-it's just that the door was wide open,
a-and—"
"You thought you could just waltz into my apartment unannounced? What are you? Some kind of peeping Tom?" Eddie asked, attitude laced in his tone. His finger fumbled with the knot of the towel, him successfully being able to tightly tie it around him.
"What— oh God no. Look I'm so sorry, but it's just that I need to borrow some ketchup if you happen to have some."
"Yeah I have some," she heard his footsteps make their way to the fridge, him opening it. "By the way, it's okay to turn around."
She peaked her head around, noticing him was decent before fully turning around. With a thud! the fridge door shut, Eddie sticking out a red, plastic bottle.
"Personally I like to keep my ketchup in the fridge, so sorry if that's like an inconvenience to you or-"
"No no no, it's fine. I'm just glad to have some. The other person I tried just slammed the door in my face."
He started to chuckle, "Hmm, let me guess. It was the people in apartment 402." Y/n nodded her head, chuckling with the man. "Those guys are assholes. You wouldn't want their ketchup anyways."
She looked down at the wood tiles, a small grin spreading across her face. "Thank you Eddie, and sorry again for waltzing in here."
"Eh, it's no big deal," he waved off, "besides you seem like you really need that ketchup."
"Yeah, I do. Have a nice night," she said, giving him one more smile before turning her heels to leave. As she walked down the hallway, she paused in front of her door, turning around to see him leaning against his. "Also, when do you want this back?"
"Ehh, fuck it. You can have it," he said, backing up into his apartment before shutting the door.
It was Saturday night when Y/n ran into Eddie for a second time. She fumbled down the hallway with three heavy bags of groceries supported by the strength of her arms (which were very weak). Eddie had his door open, allowing him to hear all of her moans and grunts in annoyance.
"Fuck," she groaned, her keys slipping out from her grasp.
Eddie peaked his head out the doorway, seeing the woman struggling between holding her groceries and picking up her keys. He tripped over his feet as he hurried to put on his shoes, popping out from his apartment towards Y/n's.
"Hey! Need some help?"
Y/n jumped back, the bags falling to the ground and its contents rolling around the floor. She leaned her arm on the wall, the other one clutched around her heart. "You almost gave me a fucking heart attack."
"Sorry, it just I saw you struggling and it seemed like you needed help," he explained as he bent down to pick some things up.
"And I'm the peeping Tom. Yeah aight," she rolled her eyes, meeting him on the floor as they picked up her groceries.
"Hey at least I didn't practically walk in on you naked. At least not yet," he smirked, his brown eyes looking up at hers.
She rolled her eyes at his sly remark, picking up more of the groceries he caused her to spill. Her hand grazed over his as they both went for the can of chicken broth, now dented. After realizing what was happening, she retracted her hand, picking up the nearest thing by her.
"And what's this?"
She turned to look at him, a bottle of vodka sitting in his hands. "It's vodka. What else could it be? Apple juice?"
Eddie kissed his teeth at her smart mouth, "I know that. I meant what do you need it for? All these bags and what for?"
"The vodka's for one of my famous cocktails I'm making," you said, snatching the bottle out of his hand, "you should try one one day."
"Is that an invite I hear?" he grinned.
"No, no it isn't."
Launching herself off the dusty, dirty floor, she reached her hand down to Eddie. "Don't just look at it. Take it." Doing what she said, he took her hand, grunting as he stood on his feet again.
"Thanks," he whispered, hands in his pockets. There was a brief awkward silence between them before it was broken by him.
"So what's cookin' good lookin," he asked, trying to nonchalantly lean against the wall but failing as he almost fell.
Y/n laughed, slightly throwing her head back. "If that was your attempt at flirting with me, better luck next time."
"So there's gonna be a next time is what I'm hearing," Her lips pursed up, her whipping her jacket sleeve at him. "Ok, ok. I was only kidding, but seriously though. What's the need for all these bags."
"Well if you must know, I'm cooking gumbo. Thought since it's the winter, it'll be nice— hey, is it just me or do I smell something burning?"
Eddie's eyes bulged from his face, him dashing back into his apartment. He opened his toaster oven, hacking at the smoke the flew into his face. The smoke detector started going off, alerting Y/n of the issue that was going on. She placed her bags down before jogging over, seeing a coughing Eddie put out the smoke with a fire extinguisher.
Opening some windows to let the room air out, Y/n began to fan the smoke out with one of his throw pillows that lied on the couch. She walked back into the kitchen area to see a tray of charred tater tots covered in dry ice residue.
"Uhhh, thanks," he mumbled, looking everywhere but at Y/n.
"No problem, but next time how 'bout not almost setting the building on fire? Kay?" she joked, Eddie rubbed the nape of his neck in embarrassment.
He'd been thinking of other ways to talk to Y/n, and today just seemed like one of those days he could shoot his shot. Yet instead of being the smooth player he thought he was, he was a klutz who didn't know how to cook basic frozen tater tots.
His chances were clearly ruined.
"I'm just messin' witcha Eddie. Look, how about you come over for dinner tonight. I mean, I'm pretty sure you don't wanna eat burnt tater tots."
"Sure!" he chirped, calming down after he sounded too eager, "I mean sure sounds great."
Eddie watched in amazement as Y/n danced around the kitchen, slicing and dicing with finesse. She slid the chopped up sausage and chicken into the pot, stirring it with a wooden spoon. "All Night" by Beyoncé softly played over her Bluetooth speakers as she swayed her hips to the rhythm, sipping on the cocktail she made earlier.
"Eddie c'mere," she waved over, stirring up the gumbo once more, "I need you to taste test the roux."
He hopped down from the bar stool, stumbling his way over to the stove. "You're hammered, aren't ya?" Y/n chuckled as she watched her neighbor trip over his own feet.
"I don't know what you put in those cocktails, but they are hella strong. Like I've never had anything—nfhmmm"
She shoved the spoon in his mouth, him lapping up the juices that dripped off of it onto his chin. As she pulled back, he licked around his lips, mouth salivating due to the heat. Her eyebrow raised and her lips caught between her teeth, waiting for his critique. His face contorted, worrying the woman.
"I-is it good? Like does it need more hot sauce or-"
"No! More hot sauce is the last thing it needs. It's amazing, but it's so hot," he said, fanning his tongue with his hand.
"My bad. I tend to be heavy handed sometimes. Uhhh— there's water in the fridge if you need it."
He swung the fridge door open, grabbing a bottled water. Opening it, he began gulping the chill drink down, water spilling onto him. Y/n watched as he jaw clenched and unclenched, his Adam's apple moving up and down. It was a simple act, yet it made her feel some type of way (especially after almost seeing him naked). He topped the bottle up, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his palm.
"Geez that was hot," he panted, making his way to to his seat, "but not as hot as you."
"You are so corny," Y/n laughed, shaking her head at the bad joke.
"What can I say? It's one of my specialties," he shrugged, leaning back in his seat. Since their was no back on the barstool he almost fell backwards, holding onto the table's edges for support.
"And is almost falling one of your specialties too?"
"Maybe. Maybe not," he smirked, leaning forwards, "so how'd you learn how to cook?"
"My grandma," she replied, chuckling at something, "I remember growing up in the country, watching my grandma and mom cook these amazing dishes."
"The country? As far as I know there's no country out here in San Fran. Where ya from?" Eddie asked, slipping on his water.
"Louisiana. What gave it away?"
"Well apart from you saying you lived in the country. I can kinda hear it in your accent now. It's very southern."
"What about you huh? Where you from?"
"Born and raised in this beautiful city."
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to that one girl? It's like one minute she's here all the time, and then the next she's no where to be found."
"Oh you mean Anne? She broke up with me not to long ago," he said, looking everywhere but her gaze. The room fell silent again, Y/n focusing back on the gumbo.
It was clear he did not want to talk about it.
"I-I am so sorry Eddie, I didn't mean to upset you—"
"No, no it's fine. You had no way of knowing, and plus I think it was for the best," he waved off.
Tapping the spoon on the edge of the pot, she sat it down on the cutting board before grabbing some bowls. He watched as she struggled to reached up to the cabinet, standing on her tippy-toes. Her shirt raised, giving Eddie a peak of her lower back. His lips grazed between his teeth as he sat there and watched her, her ass slightly jiggling as she jumped to reach the bowls.
"Here, let me," he said, going around the island to help her. His hand trialed down to her lower back, his fingers molding a spot into her side. Pressing his front against her back as he reached over her, he obtained the ceramic bowls, smirking at the sound of Y/n's breath hitching.
"There you go."
"T-thank you," she stuttered, grabbing the wooden spoon before scooping out the gumbo. She sat the bowl on the table and slid it over to him, handing him a soup spoon.
He brought the spoon to his lips, not before blowing on it for a good ten seconds. His eyes widened at the spiciness and flavor of the gumbo. It was enough to warm his soul and leave his lips with a tingly sensation. "This is so good," he moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"Well it is my grandma's secret recipe," she flexed, grabbing the shaker of the cocktail before sitting across from him. "More?"
"I better not," Eddie waved off, taking another sip of the Cajun soup, "unless you want me passed out on your couch."
Y/n laughed at him, shaking her head as she chewed her gumbo, "You got jokes, huh?"
"I'm serious! One more drink and I'll be out like a light,"
"Here," she left her seat and went over to the fridge, tossing a cold water bottle at him, "how bout you have a water."
Catching it with one hand and cracking it open with the other, he gladly took a sip— cooling down his burning lips and making him sober. "This is seriously the best gumbo I've ever had Y/n. You can cook, make drinks, you're nice and you're pretty... you're a quadruple threat!"
"Callin' me pretty now?"
"Have you looked in the mirror lately? Of course I am," he answered boldly, taking a spoonful of food in, "I'm just stating the facts."
"Y'know Eddie, if I didn't know no better, I'd say you were flirting with me,"
"So what if I am?"
Y/n let out a soft scoff before going back to eating her food. She chewed on a piece of sausage, kissing her teeth at the meat that was stuck between them. Grabbing her glass, she took a long gulp of the cocktail, a small smile crept on her face. "I wouldn't mind."
"Thought so," he said, smiling to himself. He brought the bowl to his lips, and tipping his head back so he could get every last drop. And just like that, the gumbo was gone. Getting out of his chair, he sat the dirty dish in the sink as he began rolling up his sleeves.
"I'll get it," she stopped him, moving him aside as she rolled up her sleeves. Grabbing the dishwashing liquid, she poured some into the bowl and washed it out with a rag.
"You didn't have to do that Y/n. I didn't have a problem with washing it."
"Please, you're my guest," she rolled her eyes, wetting her hand in the soapy sink water before flinging it at him, "Now go sit down."
He flinched back, throwing his hands up in defeat as he made his way back over to his seat. He watched her as she washed the rest of his and her dishes my hand, putting them on the drying rack before washing her hands. "You didn't have to fling that dirty sink water on me y'know?"
"My bad," she whined, poking her bottom lip out, "let me make it up to you. How bout some dessert? There's ice cream in the freezer."
"You know how you can make it up to me?" he asked, moving over to her stance by the island. He shot is hand down onto the counter next to Y/n, moving the other on the other side of her.
Her eyes looked up at his, batting her eyelashes at him. His body was practically pressed up against hers, and his lips were extremely close. Almost as if they were about to—
"By giving me some more of this cocktail," he cheered, reaching past her grabbing the shaker. He grabbed his cup and filled it to the brim, drink half of it then and there. Smirking at her stunned reaction, he strutted over to the couch, plopping down on it.
"W-what happened to you not wanting to get drunk?"
"Eh? Figured to hell with it. When it tastes this good, you can't help but to get a refill."
"Right," she gulped, making her way to the couch with caution, "I see you've made yourself real comfortable."
"Yeah. Come join me."
Turning something onto the tv, Eddie aimlessly flipped through the channels— settling on reruns of Kitchen Nightmares. Yet even with Gordon's screaming in the background, neither of them could care to focus on what was going on. They were to busy conversing amongst themselves.
He was asking about her major, live down south, and what she did in her free time. She was asking about his job, places to visit in San Francisco, and why he makes so much noise (especially at night). He found himself captivated by her— something about her drawing him in. Maybe it was her aura. Or the way the pronounced things due to her accent. Either way, he never wanted her to stop talking, nor did he want the night to end.
Y/n noticed how he would stare from her lips to her eyes, almost as if he wanted to kiss her but was hesitant. She noticed how he nodded at what she was saying, and how he even positioned him body towards her. It showed that he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. Which made him all the more attractive.
"Can I tell you a secret," she asked, him leaning in close. "I think I'm just as drunk as you are," she 'whispered', (shouting in his ear in reality). She let out an adorable giggle, swooning an intoxicated Eddie.
"Ya think?" He chuckled, pushing her off of him, "you're literally shouting' in my ear 'bout to make me go deaf."
"Oops," she shrugged her shoulders, "in my defense though, I didn't think we'd be sitting here 'til one in the morning drinking and talking about our lives," she said, hopping of the couch to put her empty glass in the sink.
"There's no way it's that late," he retorted, standing up along with her. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, checking the time: 1:32 am. "Dammit! I'm sorry for overextending my stay here. I'll just put my shoes on and be on my way."
"It's fine Eddie. You didn't overextend your stay," she waved off, grabbing a hold of his wrist as he was about to flee. He looked down, raising an eyebrow at the grip she had on him. It was almost like she didn't want him to leave. Like she didn't want the night to end as much as he didn't.
"But I guess it's best if you do leave. We both need shut eye, and I have work in the morning," she said, letting go of him.
"Yeah, you're right," he yawned and stretched, heading over towards the door, and slipping on his shoes that had been neatly discarded. "I should be heading home."
Y/n reached around him and unlocked the door, beckoning him to the hall. She leaned against the door frame as he stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets. The silence between them was awkward yet comfortable, only confusing the two even more. They barely even spoke a word to each other before, and now they're all buddy-buddy.
It made them wonder why they waited so long to talk.
"Uh well thanks again for having me over for dinner. I'll do anything you want. I owe you big time," he said, walking out the door, "I'm not cooking though."
"Seeing as you almost burned the building down trying to bake frozen tater tots, I don't think you can. Besides, how about you just take me out to dinner. Any time, any place."
"Harhar, very funny," he rolled his eyes, "how about next Saturday at eight?"
"Sounds like a plan. Good night Eddie," she waved goodbye as she watched him enter his apartment, him doing the same to her. Turning around and locking the door, she leaned against it, clasping her hands over her heart.
She actually had a date.
"I couldn't decide between this or the diner down the street, but I figured this was my best bet."
Y/n looked away from the menu and at Eddie, clearing her throat before asking, "Is it because I'm black?"
They were sat in Auntie April's, a soul food restaurant in downtown. The menu consisted of your typical southern styled options. A Po' Boy, shrimp and grits, collard greens, potato salad, and last but not least fried chicken.
"Oh my god no—I—I didn't mean it like that. I thought since you're from the south you'd appreciate some southern food, a—and," he lowered his head into his arms, lightly banging his head on the table. Looking up at you, he put his face in his hands before raking them through his hair.
"This is so embarrassing. I promise you I'm not a racist."
Her face was deadpanned and her expression unreadable. Her façade soon broke out into laughter, her holding onto her stomach and banging her hand on the table. Some of the other customers look their way as they heard her loud laughing, leaving Eddie embarrassed and confused.
"Oh my god you should've seen your face. You were so scared," she cried, wiping the tears from her eyes. She saw the confused look on his face which only made her laugh more.
"I'm not mad Eddie. I was just fuckin' withcha."
"That's not funny," he groaned, gently kicking her calf from underneath the table. "Kinda thought I'd ruined my chances there for a moment."
"Well mister," she kicked him back in the calf, "you didn't, so don't worry. I'll admit it was probably a bad joke."
"Yeah, like the one you told when you were absolutely hammered late week?"
"For the last time, I wasn't even that drunk," Eddie raised his eyebrows at her, giving her a really? look. "Okay so maybe I was that drunk, but so were you mister 'I'm gonna pass out on your couch'."
"Touché," he replied, nodding his head and shrugging his shoulders, "but let's remember who can handle their alcohol better."
Y/n let out an hmph before scouring over the menu herself. Eddie watched intensively as she looked through the menu, trying to see what she was going to get. He rarely ate soul food (settling for pizza and tater tots) so he figured what ever she had was the best.
"I'm getting Bernell's Shrimp-N-Fries the with a side of mac. What are you getting?
"I'll just get the same thing," he answered, closing and setting the menu to the edge of the table for the waitress.
"And why is that?"
"I don't really eat soul food a lot. Last time I've been here was when they opened," he took a sip of the water the waitress brought them when they first sat down.
"And when was that?" Y/n asked, coping his actions.
"Three years ago."
"Wow, so you really just picked this place for me," she chuckled, shaking her head. "You are something else Eddie you know that."
"What can I say? I told you I owed you didn't I? Plus, you let me pick the place."
"You're annoying," she grumbled, folding her arms around her chest.
"You're only saying that cause I'm right," Eddie smirked at the woman, waving over a waitress to order for the two of them.
A part of him knew she was messing with him, but a part of him worried. Was he doing to much? Was he saying the wrong things. Being too sarcastic and rude? Being too soft?
"Welcome to Auntie April's," the young waitress cheered, "what can I get for the lovely couple today?"
"Oh we're not—"
"We'll have the Bernell's Shrimp-N-Fries meal. One with mac and cheese, and the other with extra fries," he cut off, placing his hand on top of hers. His thumb rubbed over hers in a circular motion, the action throwing her off.
The waitress (named Julie) sent a small smile their way before heading to the kitchen to give the order to the chefs. Y/n's eyes widened as she snatched her hand from his, whispering a quick 'what the fuck' to him.
"What? I panicked and I just did the first thing that came to mind. My bad," he apologized, analyzing her shook state. He couldn't tell if he made her uncomfortable or if she was just surprised. And that worried him the most.
"Look. If it makes you feel any better, let's change the subject," he said, bringing the condensing glass cup of water to his lips.
And just like that they were back into the flow of things. The conversation proceeded with ease like they were old high school friends having a reunion. Nothing seemed to be off limits between the two of them, and nothing made the atmosphere awkward.
Y/n was one of the most interesting people Eddie had ever met in his life, her aura almost energizing him. He felt a sense of happiness around her. Something he'd hadn't felt in awhile. Something he needed.
Conversation revolved around the basic topics. Whether they believed in astrology or not, how much they hated the president, all of their favorites (colors, musicians, movie, etc.). He felt like his life was rather dull compared to hers, but she made sure to remind him his life was just as put together and interesting as hers. Besides, it added a nice contrast between the two.
"That was the bomb dot com," Y/n grunted as she finished her plate, slumping down in the booth slightly.
"I know right! I think I'm gonna have to unbutton my pants after awhile," he laughed, flagging down a waitress once more mouthing 'check please.' She nodded, reappearing at their table with the check.
"You can say that again," Y/n huffed out, digging through her junky purse for loose dollars. Pulling out two twenties, she placed the money between the waitress's billfold— not before Eddie could notice.
"Uhhh, what are you doing," he asked, sliding the billfold over to him. He took her money out and replaced it with his card, sliding it back into position on the edge of the table. "I'm the one who owes you. At least let me pay."
They had had two helping of peach cobbler after their meal. Along with ice cream to go with it. Their total had rounded out to about fourth-three dollars and fifty-two cents, and there was no way Y/n was gonna let him pay for all of it.
"How bout we go 50/50?," she pleaded, sending him her best puppy dog eyes. He begrudgingly agreed, taking half of his money away and replacing it with hers. "Plus," she leaned in closer, "there's always other ways you can repay me."
Her tone wasn't its usual snarking, low tone. It was silky and sultry, drawing Eddie in more and more as if it was a trap. It was insinuative and lustful and to be quite frank, he found himself enjoying it.
The waitress came back, picking up the billfold before wishing them a good night. "Ready to go back home?" he asked, sticking out his hand for her to grab.
Home.
It was such a simple, yet difficult concept for the young girl. He most likely said 'home' since they lived in the same apartment complex ride next door from each other. But, she couldn't help to want to go home with him. It didn't even matter which one she went to (although preferably hers).
There was no denying the sexual tension between the two adults. Something about it was so electric, so exhilarating. Anyone who cared enough to pay attention to them could see it, even with their eyes closed. Replying with a short 'yes,' Y/n took his hand as he lead her out the dinner—onto the busy streets of San Fran.
Their hands intertwined as they walked down the sidewalk, stopping at the crosswalk to whistle over a nearby cab. Being the gentleman he is, Eddie opened the door for her, waving her to get in. His hand rested on her clothed thigh as he conversed with the taxi driver, asking him irrelevant questions.
His hand trialed further and further her thigh, her breath hitching and quivering. As the cab made its way to the apartment, Eddie paid the driver his dues before practically dragging Y/n out of the taxi and into the building.
"Why the hurry," she groaned, as they ran into the elevator, waiting for it to arrive on the fifth floor.
His face dropped as he looked over at her, a look of worry replacing the one of lust. "D—do you not want this? Oh my god, I'm so sorry I—I," the hold around her hand dropped as a look of guilt washed over him.
"Eddie, Eddie," she giggled at him turning his head to face her, "I meant there's no need to rush. We've got all the time in the world,"
"Good," he grunted, letting out a breath of relief, "cause I'm gonna need it with what I'm planning on doing to you."
He bent down to kiss her, her meeting him half way. The kiss was something they never experienced with their past lovers before. It was fast and tender. Slow and aggressive. Their tongues teased the others as they slightly slid past their lips, almost as if the other was silently asking for permission.
The elevator door dung open, the two of them still kissing with no signs of stopping. After whispering a quick 'jump', Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist. Her back made a thud! sound when it came in contact with the door, her hands roaming up to tug on his hair. He pulled away, craning his neck down to hers as he kissed from her from her ears to her chest.
"E-Eddie can I at least open the door," she groaned, massaging and twirling his hair in her hands as he made his attack on her neck. Her chest was heaving up and down, and her breaths were short and quick. "I kinda don't wanna do it in this nasty hallway."
Hesitant, he pulled away. His brown eyes were dilated and fulled with lust. His lips were plump and swollen from the intense make out.
She fumbled through her purse for the house key, silently thanking God when she found it. The door unlocked with a click, her pulling Eddie in on his shirt collar before locking the door back.
Their lips reconnected, the passion for it earlier haven't left. Their tongues touched as they open-mouth kissed, them inching further and further into her apartment. Y/n's hands roamed around the nape of his neck to his short hair, running her fingers through it. Eddie hands make their way to her blouse and rips it off from the middle, causing a few buttons to pop off.
"Hey! That was my favorite shirt!"
"I'll buy you a new one," he grunted, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around the bottom of her ass. Lifting her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the couch. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"
He began sucking on her neck, leaving deep purple bruises down her chest, "Yes."
Letting out a a satisfied hum, Eddie lied Y/n down on the couch, leaning back up to take of his shirt. She sighed in bliss at the sight of his abs again, reaching her hands up to feel on them. "I missed seeing these."
Her movements were needy— desperate in fact. She couldn't remember the last time she got laid. Three years? Four? Five? Nonetheless, she wanted him and he wanted her, and their was no hiding it. His breath was warm against her skin as he peppered kisses down her boobs, sliding down the lace bra. She let out a broken whimper as his tongue swirls around her nipple, soon latching his mouth around it.
He grunts as he tried to pull down her tight fitted jeans, her wiggling to ease them off. Once the pants were through 'cross the living room, her underwear followed suit, leaving her exposed to him. Rather than feeling anxious or, insecure she felt something different. A feeling of comfort. A feeling of safety.
Like he wouldn't judge her body.
"How 'bout we get these off," she she as she fiddled with the belt supporting his pants. Taking liberty, Eddie undos the belt and lets his pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and tossing them somewhere.
"Finally," spreading her legs and getting in between them. He took his middle and index into his mouth, staring at Y/n as he sucked and swirled his tongue around them. Taking them out with a pop!, he slid them through her folds, easing them into her vagina.
A breathless moan came from her mouth as he continued to finger her, his fingers curling in a c motion as he stroked her clit every time. Just as she was about to orgasm, he pulled his fingers from her and licked the arousal fluid off them.
"Eddie," Y/n whined, grinding her hips in the air in hopes that he'd finish to job.
"Be patient Y/n. I've got something even better," he grinned, leaning up onto his knees. His hands trailed down to his underwear, slowly pulling them off to where Y/n could see his—
"Wait," he paused, staring into her eyes with a serious look, "what about protection?"
Y/n gives a wordless response, pointing over to her purse that was dropped near the door. Huffing and Puffing, Eddie trotted 'cross the room, digging through her purse looking for a condom.
"You really keep condoms in your purse?"
She shrugged her shoulders, nonchalantly nodding her head. "Never know when you might need one. Plus it was quick and effective, wasn't it?"
"Touché," he shrugged, waltzing back over to the couch. He tore the wrapper off with his teeth, spitting the chunk out that came off as he pulled the rest out. He pounced back on top of her, the couch making a strange squeaking noise.
"Easy there tiger," she laughed, reaching her hands up to feels on his body. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell agape at the size of him as he pulled down his briefs, his dick hitting the side of his thigh.
"Do be scared love," he smiled, looking down at her, "it'll feel nice. I promise."
Oh she wasn't scared. She was excited (and a tad bit scared).
"Top or bottom?" he asked, pumping himself a few times before sliding the latex over his hardened dick.
"Top," she answered, rolling over to switch spots with Eddie.
Throwing her legs across his waist, she hovered over him as she alighted herself up with him. The two of them moaned as she sunk down on top of him, pressing her hands against his toned chest. She let out a breathy moan as she sat their, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him filling her up.
She began rocking her hips, grabbing a hold of Eddie's hands as she brought them up to her breasts. Her hands moved with his as he cupped and groped her boobs, staring at them wide eyed. Y/n bit her lip as she slightly leaned forwards, allowing some friction on her clit.
Taking advantage of this, Eddie leaned forwards and popped on of of boobs in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the hardened bud was soft moans and sighs fell past her lips. She gripped onto the couch arm and threw her head back as he sucked hickeys onto the skin.
"Oh Eddie," she moaned in his ear, a grunted coming from his mouth. She felt him twitch inside of her which could only mean one thing.
He was about to cum (and so was she).
Y/n sat up again and pushed him back into the couch cushions, slowly trailing her hand to his throat to give it a squeeze. A grin spread across his face and his eyes fluttered open and close as she fucked him good. His hands made their way to her waist, molding his fingers a spot on her sides.
"S-shit," she cursed as Eddie started thrusting into her as he put in some of the work.
"It feels so, so good," she whined, choking on her words as she felt her orgasm approaching.
His toes curled and his thighs began to shake as an all too familiar feeling ran through him. His arm hit the arm of the couch with a thump as his hands roamed around it trying to grip onto the cushion. Anything. Just something to grasp as he came.
"Cum Eddie," Y/n grunted as she started bouncing to meet his thrusts, "cum for me."
Between the dirty talk and the way she was fucking him, Eddie had no choice. His eyes squeezed shut and his hips jolt up to hers a finial time before he's cumming in the condom. Their mouths dragged open into an O shape as they came together, Y/n still grinding and bouncing to ride out their highs.
She crashed down onto him, worn out from all the work she'd put in. They stayed in that position for awhile, recuperating all of they had left of their breath (it jagged and unstable). Peeling away from his body, a sheer layer of sweat was covering both her and him. She stood up and stretched, putting on her destroyed blouse after searching for it.
"Will you stay the night," she asked as she slipped on her panties who were slumped over the coffee table, "you can sleep in my bed if you want. It gets cold at night."
"Sure," he smirked, using his core strength to curl himself up off the couch, "I'll stay."
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