65 and 74 from that prompt list with Richard would be soooooo hot 😍
65. One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other
74. Kisses Where One Person Is Sitting In The Other’s Lap
You set up the microwave, closing the door and pressing start as you watched the bag of popcorn kernels start to rotate. You had set it for five minutes, but since you and Richard moved in together and had basically become Netflix champions, you had mastered the art of cooking popcorn without burning it or having half a bowl of kernels.
You had about a minute before you'd have to start listening out for the pops, so you walked over to the living room, leaning against the doorframe as you watched Rich setting up the show you were currently binging. He noticed you, a smile appearing on his face as his eyes met yours. Putting the remote on the sofa, Richard patted his lap, which was the unspoken request for you to join him.
"Can't, babe. I've got popcorn-"
He didn't let you finish, instead pouting childishly and slapping his lap harder, this time with both hands. He was such a child, but you found it near impossible to say no to him, especially with that stupid pout.
You ignored all common sense as you heard the first pop, walking over and sitting on Richard's lap, your legs resting outside his so you were straddling him. His hands rested just above your bum, fingers tapping gently at the bit of skin that showed when your t-shirt rode up a little.
Richard sighed happily, his breath almost turning into a growl. He always did this whenever you were this close, just as his hands roamed further south and squeezed your ass ever so slightly.
"Mm, darling…" he whispered,
"Yes?" You looked down at him, eyes wide as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, deciding that your main objective right now was to get him all worked up before you left to get the popcorn. The last time you were out, he teased you relentlessly. Revenge was a dish best served with your ass rubbing against Richard's crotch.
As Rich leant in to kiss you, you leaned back, keeping a certain distance between you for the moment. His eyebrow raised and you smirked, not even entirely sure if the eyebrow thing was intentional. (Most of the time he had no idea he was doing it and it drove you wild.)
You then slowly dipped down, pressing a short and sweet kiss on his lips as your hands ran up his arms, giving them a gentle squeeze. The popcorn was madly making it's noise in the kitchen, which was why you tried getting up after the one kiss.
"Where do you think you're going?" He growled, clearly having other ideas to you as his hands quickly ran up your spine and landed on the back of your neck, pulling you down to meet his lips. There was so much passion in his kiss that all thoughts of popcorn ran away from you and you melted, probably managing to keep the fight in you for about half a second in total. You were at his mercy, exactly where he wanted you as he devoured you, his tongue entering your mouth and clashing with your own.
You felt his teeth sink into your bottom lip and you let out a moan, knowing full well that any noise you made now would only get Richard going even more. Your nails gently scratched at the back of his neck, your other hand merging with his curls and tugging gently.
This went on for some time, Richard occasionally finding himself at your neck and your collarbones, nipping and sucking needily as you moaned out his name, your need for him only growing. It wasn't until the smell of burning popcorn reached your senses that you stopped, the scent so strong it was even enough to take Richard out of his trance.
"Fuck. That's totally your fault, Rich."
"…guess I'll have to eat something else." He whispered, his stupid smirk reappearing for a second as his hand made contact with your ass, your squeak following an audible slap sound that rang through your flat.
a/n- I loooved writing for Eggsy! I’ve never done it before, so I hope I’ve done our boy justice. Thank you for the request, nonny!!
___________________________________
1. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”
2. “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry”
7. “I hate how much I love you”
You were sat on the edge of Eggsy’s bed, watching him pack and trying not to wince at the careless way that absolutely nothing was folded neatly. He’d better hope there was a laundry service at wherever he was staying, as you knew how bloody useless he was at ironing. You could see it now, picturing him with perfect clarity going undercover as some billionaire in a huge mansion with creases on his shirt. You smiled at the thought, which Eggsy noticed, being the first time you had smiled since he invited you over to say your goodbyes.
“What’re you grinning at? Finally realising that you’re finally gonna get some peace and quiet around here?”
You rolled your eyes, the smile disappearing at how light-hearted he was taking his act of leaving you again.
“No. Just thinking about how useless you are. Sit down, let me pack for you. You’re going to look ridiculous if your clothes look like they’ve been packed by a seven-year-old.”
Eggsy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from his suitcase and gesturing for you to continue, “If you think you can do a better job, you go ahead, love.”
You did so, trying to ignore the fact that Eggsy had just called you ‘love’. It happened often enough for it not to be anything special, but with how anxious you were feeling at the thought of your best friend going on yet another life-threatening mission, the pet name left an ache in your chest. You pushed through it, folding up the shirts and rolling up the ties neatly and silently, trying your absolute hardest not to show the emotion you were feeling. Eggsy knew how much you hated him leaving, but his answers never really helped. It was awful and selfish, but you didn’t care about the ‘greater good’ he always told you about; not if it meant losing him.
Neither of you said a word as you zipped up the bag, refusing to sit next to him for your own petty reasons, which resulted in you awkwardly standing opposite him, arms folded and lips pursed into an almost childish pout. Eggsy looked up at you, sighing.
“Y/n, come on... This can’t be our goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll be back, could be months.”
You didn’t move, nor speak, nor look up from staring at your fingers, which were fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie you had stolen from Eggsy about three years ago.
He waited for an answer, until it became too uncomfortable and he stood, hand reaching out to touch yours and guide your fingers away before your anxieties tore a hole through the faded fabric of the hoodie. You flinched, pulling away and stepping further backwards. Even the possibility of his touch, and the thoughts that this could be the last time, brought that lump into your throat you just couldn’t swallow down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, which you wiped away with your sleeve furiously. Everything started bubbling up: every emotion, every thought, every unspoken word rising up like bile in your throat until it was near impossible to keep it down. You had to get out of that room, Eggsy’s bedroom which held so many memories and ‘almosts’ and ‘what ifs’ that may never be answered, all because Eggsy was off again to lay down his life.
You turned on your heel, trying to dart past Eggsy and out of his bedroom door, mumbling “Good luck.”. Your efforts were useless, Eggsy managing to grab you by the wrist.
“Oi, where do you think you’re going? Hardly the goodbye I should be getting from my best frie-”
“Best friend? Best friend? You’re still clinging onto that?” You spat out, instantly regretting it, but finding that now you’d opened the subject, there was absolutely no way of going back.
“What’re you saying, y/n?” He replied, you finally meeting his eyes with your own in enough time to see his brows to knit together. He knew exactly what you meant. You knew him too well, and you knew his expression of faux confusion. You had seen the real thing in far too many biology classes. This definitely wasn’t it.
You scoffed, pulling your wrist back from him.
“You know exactly what I mean. You’re leaving, Eggsy. Again. You’re leaving me and you might never fucking come back and you’re really okay with leaving as my ‘best friend’?”
“I don’t know what you-”
“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it, Egs...”
He looked like he was going to argue back, but had nothing to say. He knew you were right. You had been best friends since you were teenagers, but lately, things had been changing. Maybe it was because he was in constant danger, and both of you had realised how little you could stand to lose the other, that you had started to get brave. The occasional kiss you’d blame on the alcohol and never mention again, the times you’d be hanging out and Eggsy’s hand would somehow end up on your thigh, the times you’d go to the pub without even asking your other mates, all of it had lead to a vast dynamic change between the two of you. It felt like it was leading up to something special, and yet he was too bloody stubborn to admit it.
Or so you thought.
“Y/n... Please... Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
This time, you didn’t pull away when he reached out, letting him get closer. He stopped before he actually touched you, though, which you found oddly frustrating. You didn’t know when you had properly started crying, but it had happened. And looking into Eggsy’s eyes, you could see that they were glazed too, which was a foreign, weird and rare sight for you.
You expected him to respond to what you had actually said, recognise the existence of an actual thing between you two for the first time, but he just stayed still, hand hovering just above your arm, frozen in the air.
You were the one to move first, lifting your arm until it made contact with his hand. You stepped forwards, so slowly it felt as if time had stopped, getting closer and closer to the kingsman, closing the space between you two. Your heart was pounding, much harder than you thought was healthy. You could barely breathe, waiting for Eggsy to show some sign of... well, anything.
His arms eventually wrapped around you, hand reaching for your hair as he shushed you, calming the sobs you couldn’t stop yourself. His body twitched next to yours and you knew he was crying too.
“Egs...” You whispered, moving your head until your lips were a breath away from his. You were so close, this was the moment that everything had been leading up to...
“We can’t, y/n.”
It felt as if your heart had dropped three floors down. The crying stopped and your breath got stuck in your throat. You pulled back, not knowing what the hell to do or say.
“..Right. Yeah. Of course. Good luck, Eggsy. Be careful out there.” You said, stepping back and actually making it to the door this time, throwing it open so it hit the wall with a rather loud thud that caused you to flinch before you stormed out of his bedroom and towards his front door.
You heard a sigh.
“Y/n, wait!” He called after you, following you out and beating you to the front door, standing in front of it.
“Get out of my way, Eggsy. Let me go.”
“No. I... I can’t leave without... Urgh- fuck!” He shouted, screwing up his face in frustration as he turned and punched the wall.
“Eggsy, what the fuck?!”“I love you, alright?! I fucking love you so much, more than anything. I hate how much I love you, because I can’t love you. If we were together, I’d be putting you in danger. I’ve... I’ve fucking lost everyone, y/n. I can’t lose you too.”
You were speechless. Completely and utterly speechless, frozen in the hallway of the man you loved, of the man who loved you back, unable to do anything about it because it would risk your life.
And suddenly, that seemed worth it.
You closed the space between the pair of you, hands meeting Eggsy’s cheeks to cup his face as you pressed your lips against his passionately, feeling everything in the universe around you fit into place, and then melt away.
Eggsy matched the passion and the fire, gripping onto any part of you he could. Starting with your hair, making his way to your shoulders, chest and hips, reaching around your back to pull you, if possible, even closer.
“Y/n, I-I...”“I know, Egs... I know. But... Let’s forget about that, just for now, okay? Just enjoy what we can before you have to leave. Please...”
Hi I was wondering if you could do a dating taron egerton would be like ?
Dating Taron Egerton would involve
• PET. NAMES. he would call you darling more than he calls you your actual name
• he’d constantly be taking pictures of you when you’re not looking. His Instagram is more you than it is him
• your families would be very intergrated. your dad calls him ‘son’ and his parents think you’re the greatest thing to happen to him
• Christmas involves both of your families having dinner together
• you’re really close with his sisters!
• 3 weekends a year (atleast) you have a lazy weekend, where neither of you are allowed to even think about work
• sometimes you’re watching a movie and you catch him watching you instead of the movie
• he then asks what he’s missed and you tease him
• neither of you had really experimented with sex that much before eachother, but now you try so many new things together, slowly easing eachother into all these different kinks
• you’d miss him a lot when he was off on press tours or filming, but he FaceTimed you every night before you went to bed to tell you he loves you
• nose kisses and Eskimo kisses
• trips to the grocery store are their own adventure
• hand holding!!! If you’re walking and you’re ahead, he pulls you back to him and kisses you
• all. the. pda.
• in past relationships, he was much more reserved in public and with the paparazzi, but with you (once you got more comfortable with it), he says you’re too good to ever stop
• he holds your hand when he drives
• obviously you’re wearing his hoodies more than you’re wearing yours
• if it’s too hot to cuddle in bed, he has to be touching you somewhere
• whoever wakes up first goes to make breakfast. you always put music on to cook to and when the other wakes up and comes downstairs it turns into a breakfast dance
• you sing together all the time
• one time Taron asks you to pass him his phone. Your face is on his Face ID, so the phone unlocks to a Pinterest board of engagement rings.
Again, credit for this idea goes to @avenging-fandoms
Hiya Love. Do you write fanfiction for Taron Egerton still? If yes, can you please write an imagine where the reader is about five months pregnant and feels very insecure with how her body is changing and Taron shows her that he loves her and tells her what he likes about each new change she is going through? And if you could make it smutty and fluffy at the same time? thank you so much
I most certainly do! Apologies if anything is off, I did my best to research that stage of pregnancy but I’m not a mum myself! Thank you so much for the request- I hope you enjoy!
Taron practically bounced through the front door of the house you shared, grinning as he held up a box of your favourite takeout pizza, in the hopes that it would bring that smile back he had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“Darling? I’m home- sorry I’m a little late, paparazzi was a state on the way out of the interview place.”
You heard him ramble on adorably as he made his way through the hallway, into the living room, where you were getting far too emotional over the newest episode of Queer Eye and blaming it on your hormones, despite the fact that you had been crying at that show for years.
When your reddened, puffy, tired eyes met his, you smiled… and then the smell of pizza hit you and said smile dropped.
You stood up quick, despite the sore back you had been trying to deal with using a hot water bottle all day, bolting upstairs to the bathroom.
Aversions to pizza: added to the ever-growing list.
You were five months pregnant and the morning sickness hadn’t subsided, all your favourite foods slowly being moved over to the long column of things that made you throw up. Five months in was apparently the time when everything started getting uncomfortable, according to the doctor.
You’re trying your best to be careful as you leant over the toilet, throwing up again. You don’t notice Taron appearing beside you until one hand was holding your fringe away from your face, the other rubbing gentle circles in your back.
“Oh, baby… I’m so sorry… it’s alright, I’m here.”
Taron knew you hated throwing up, so he always tried his best to comfort you and felt absolutely awful whenever it was him who caused it to happen.
Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you sat on the floor, not bothering to get up just yet because your energy had dropped completely.
Taron’s brows knitted together, flushing the toilet and lowering the lid before sitting down on the floor opposite you.
“Y/n? Are you okay, love?”
You nodded, your hair messed up from before and falling in your face as you did so. It was less than convincing, and Taron knew you far too well. He didn’t reply, instead raising his eyebrows.
The questioning look from him was enough to set you off, when you knew you didn’t have an answer for him that wasn’t a combination of all of your worst thoughts over the past couple of weeks. You couldn’t lie to him, you realised, burying your face in your hands as the tears freely flowed down your cheeks.
“Woah, woah… baby- what’s- what’s wrong? C’mere…”
He shuffled across the cold floor tiles until he was next to you, an arm wrapping around your frame as you tried to find the right words.
“I-I just… this sucks! And you’re going to hate me for thinking that this sucks because it’s meant to be the greatest thing ever and I feel so ungrateful but- but it just… sucks…”
“Baby. Baby? Calm down, it’s okay-“
Taron could see that you were getting worked up, pulling you into his hold and pressing a kiss to your forehead while he ran his fingers through the bits of hair that had fallen out of your bun. He did this until you were calm enough to listen properly, gently lifting your chin with his finger.
“Listen to me… I could never in a million years hate you. Never. So you can stop that right now.”
His words sounded like he was telling you off, but his tone was soft, as was the second kiss to your forehead.
“What’s going on, love? You can tell me.”
You sniffled, wiping away the tear tracks on your cheeks, despite the fact that new ones replaced them seconds later.
“I… I just feel so uncomfortable… my body is changing so much and I know it’s because I’m pregnant and it’s supposed to be a good thing but I feel gross. I’m meant to be glowing but I’m just sweaty and veiny and everything aches all the time and even though I’m showing and it’s meant to be beautiful I don’t even look pregnant, I just look fat and- and these stupid stretch marks have started appearing and- urgh!”
You tried to wriggle your head away, feeling pretty embarrassed and Taron’s intense eye contact wasn’t helping. He didn’t let you go, though, pausing for a moment to think of how to reply to your insecurities. His silence worried you. Maybe you were right and he did hate you for it.
“I’m sorry… I-“
“Don’t apologise. But you should know that you’re being absolutely ridiculous.“
He stood, holding his hand out to help you up and your head tilted sideways, not unlike a confused puppy.
“I’m not doing this on our bathroom floor, love.”
You took his hand and he led you to your bedroom, where he laid on the bed and patted the space next to him. You complied, laying down and ignoring the twinge in your back.
Your frame fit perfectly in his, your head resting on his chest as his hand went to gently pull out your bun so he could run his hands through your hair. This always calmed you down and he knew it. It was his secret weapon against your anxiety.
“I know it’s hard, baby. And you’re not a bad person for thinking it. At all. But you’re beautiful and you always will be.”
The smile was inevitable, despite the fact that there was something stopping you from believing what he was saying. He was silent for a second, contemplating his next move. He then shuffled from under you, so that he could kiss you on the lips from a better angle. He was hovering over you now, resting on his arms with enough weight that his muscles fluttered and his veins protruded in the way that drove you crazy. He lowered himself down, peppering kisses on your cheek, jaw, then neck, then chest, stomach and finally your hips.
Seeing him looking up at you from that position caused flutters in your heart and twitches inbetween your legs. That wasn’t helped in the slightest when he pressed a slow, tender kiss on your left hip, just where the stretch marks were.
“I love your stretch marks. And they’re actually not called stretch marks anymore. They’re called tiger stripes, but honestly I think you’re stronger than a tiger. You put tigers to shame.”
God, you loved this man. He could go from the sexiest look you’ve ever seen in your life, to the goofiest dork saying the stupidest things. You were giggling under your breath, though you were about to protest. He cut you off before you could even start, crawling ever so slightly up to your stomach and placing a similar kiss on it.
“You’re not fat. You’re wonderful and you’re carrying our baby. There’s literally a person inside there who is 50% you and if bringing more you into the world isn’t the greatest gift you could give the universe, I don’t know what is.”
You decided not to try and stop him from talking anymore, letting his lips roam your body as you tried not to get distracted with your thoughts. He made his way back up to your lips, kissing you gently, and then passionately. It was becoming harder and harder not to get distracted.
“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, y/n. You’re incredible and you’re allowed to feel like this, even if it’s complete bull-“
He stopped himself, after seeing the raised eyebrow on your face. You two had recently found that babies developed hearing around this phase, so Taron had to quit with the swearing.
“Come here.” You demanded, both your hands landing on his cheeks as you pulled him into your body, both of you careful not to squish your ‘little carrot’ (as Taron had so fondly named it, after the doctor had described it’s size). You had actually become quite riled up, which you were almost certain was Taron’s intentions with those damn kisses.
One of his hands landed on your belly, the other keeping him propped up enough to not crush you as he kissed you again. You bit at his bottom lip, which was basically your version of ‘fuck me right now, Taron’. You hadn’t had that feeling in a while, especially not with all the insecurities, so Taron had definitely done his job at making you feel better. (He’d totally continue to make you feel much much better for the next hour, too.)
Hey! Can you do an imagine where reader comforts a really distressed David Budd, knowing that he's having a hard time at work? Fluffy and/or smutty, whatever you fancy :)
Hi! Thank you for being my first request! I most certainly can do that for you! (Went for fluffy but I will probably do another one with a smutty twist because I absolutely loved writing this)
The sound of your front door unlocking brings you out of the light state of sleep you had fallen into. David was clearly trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn’t his fault you had woken; you could never sleep properly when he was working late and you had been worried ever since getting the text from him a few hours ago.
David was in the bedroom before you could properly come around, being as careful as possible to undress and not trip over without turning the light on. He was soon climbing into bed, which was when you rolled over, reaching to touch any part of him you could, your fingers resting gently on his arm.
“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you…”
“It’s okay, I was up anyway.” You whisper, yawning just after. Bastard timing. “What happened?”
A pause, in which you shuffled closer to him, your head fitting perfectly on his bare chest, his warmth very welcome. You could hear his heart beating hard, which was the first sign that you should worry.
“You should go to sleep, love. It’s really late.”
There was the second sign. Your brows knitted together in worry and you reached behind you to switch the lamp on. Your eyes took a second to adjust, but when they did you could tell that something wasn’t right. Looking at your boyfriend, you noticed how tired he looked. You noticed the little scratches on his face and the redness in his eyes.
“Babe…”
“I’m-“
“Don’t tell me you’re fine. I know when you’re not fine.”
David could see how serious you looked. He was obviously trying to think of what to say, the muscle in his jaw fluttering as his teeth clenched.
You knew how hard work was being for him recently. He was stressed, and the stress was turning itself into panic and anxiety and triggering his PTSD in ways that broke you to see how he was struggling.
“I… I-“
Your heart broke into a thousand pieces as tears fell down David’s face. His hands cover his features as he sobs, not able to say anything. You knew the signs of an oncoming panic attack, meaning that the worry struck you immediately.
“Oh, baby… shh, it’s okay. I’m here.”
You pulled him closer, until he was practically on your lap, one hand rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to soothe him.
David’s breaths were becoming more and more sporadic, you yourself trying not to cry just from seeing David looking so broken.
You both sat there for a while, until the panic eventually subsided and his breath calmed. Somehow, you ended up laid back down, David’s head rested against your chest this time as your fingers mindlessly twirled through his hair. You loved it when his hair had curled, and he loved it when you played with it, even if he would never say it out loud.
It had been silent for so long that you wondered if you had lulled him to sleep, but you noticed his fingers tapping against the duvet.
“David?”
“y/n?”
His voice was sleepy, which gave you enough reason to reach over and switch the lamp off. You could talk about it in the morning, tell him how you’d support him no matter what, but sleep was rare for the bodyguard nowadays and you didn’t want to get him worked up again.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You woke up the next morning entangled in each other.
Can you plz do imagines #20&29 from promt list 1 with Richard madden where reader in padt was in abusive relationship
Hey! I can definitely do that for you! Thank you for the request!
20- “I think you’re just afraid to be happy.”
29- “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?”
-
It was 3am and you were wide awake. Richard was laid next to you, fast asleep. He had gotten home late, and after a long day of filming had fallen asleep almost immediately after kissing you goodnight and telling you he loved you.
You two had barely spoken that night, leading to all kinds of intrusive thoughts and imaginary scenarios where you had your bags packed by the next morning because he didn’t love you anymore.
Why hadn’t he talked to you? It was just like your last relationship, where you’d do something wrong (or he thought you had) and he wouldn’t talk to you for hours on end. Richard hadn’t done that, yet, but maybe now it was time.
You knew it was ridiculous, really, but the thoughts didn’t seem to subside, hence why you hadn’t slept a wink in the past 4 hours you’d been in bed.
You turned over, facing away from Richard and pulling the covers a little more forcefully than you intended. This woke him up, your boyfriend groggily rolling over so that he was behind you, his arm reaching to touch your arm.
He loved sleeping next to you, and each time he woke up in the night he would reach over to remind himself how lucky he was to be able to sleep beside you every night.
You obviously weren’t thinking of that right now, huffing under your breath and pulling your arm away.
“Y/n? You awake?” He whispered, though you could easily find the concern in his tone.
“Yep.” You replied shortly, not offering anything else to him.
“Are you alright, love?”
“No. No I’m not.”
Silence, in which Richard gently pulled at your arm until you were rolling back towards him. A mixture of the moonlight and the street lamps outside snuck through your curtains, lighting his features just enough to see the worry in his expression.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“You.” You half snapped, still completely wide awake.
“Me? What did I-“
“You’ve barely said two words to me today. You’re obviously mad at me…”
It was your first call, the only call you’ve ever had to reach in the past: you must have done something wrong.
“Baby, I told you I was just really tired…”
“Well, yeah. But…”
That was when he worked it out. Richard sighed, his arm instantly going to wrap around your frame so that you were resting on his bare chest. A strange mixture of embarrassment and relief planted in your stomach and grew when he kissed the top of your head.
He had worked out what had gone wrong. He knew about your past relationship and all the abuse and trauma that came with it. He knew you were prone to overthinking and realised how awful he must have been to let you get worked up like this.
“I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t think. But you’ve got to be more vocal with me, yeah? I know it’s hard, and I know I can be an oblivious prick sometimes, but I need you to tell me, rather than finding all these things and laying with th-“
“I’m scared.” You blurted out, the very mention of the word ‘vocal’ finally giving you enough courage to tell him what the conclusion of your 4 hour thought chamber had created.
“Scared that it’ll go away. That your love for me will go away…”
Richard let the silence wash over you both for a moment while he thought, his hands beginning to tracing little circles on a point on your arm.
“I think you’re just afraid to be happy. But you should be. I want you to be happy, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy and easing away your fears and building back what was broken. But I need you to let me do that, and I can’t if I don’t know how.”
You nodded, not knowing when the little pools of tears had formed in the corners of your eyes but grateful that you were cuddled against Richard and he couldn’t see them.
There was another bout of silence, this one much more peaceful than it’s predecessors. You just laid there, listening to the soft, calm heartbeat of the boyfriend who wanted to do everything in his power to fix what your ex boyfriend broke.
“Y/n…?”
“Mhm?” You replied, finally finding some sort of sleepiness.
a/n-so Eddie mfing Edwards has taken over my life and I love him so much and he has a grip on my mind that won’t let up till I write about him. So here we are. Thinking about making this into a mini-series of firsts with Eddie. Let me know what you think of this! My first piece on here that wasn’t a request so Im super nervous.
warnings- fluff? Ultra fluff. Blood/injuries. (Eddie has a nosebleed)
The warmth of the room hit you faster than your skin could adjust, dusting your nose and cheeks with a deep pink pigment. The heat aches pinched harshly at your toes as you kicked your boots off, so ready for a relaxing night after a long day at work hiring out skis and cleaning up after obnoxious Norwegians.
It wasn’t much of an escape from work, considering you lived on-site at the training facility in return for work (the perks of having a family friend in the form of Bronson Peary), and the slopes were in view of your window. You shut the curtains, closing off the view of a tiny silhouette climbing up one of the slopes.
Your jacket was next to come off, before you shuffled out of your thick trousers, leaving you in your somewhat oversized sweater. It was warm enough in your ‘home’ to be more than comfortable in just a sweater and socks, thanks to you being so used to the cold and forgetting to turn the heater off when you left that morning.
That was the reasoning for you to be sat in your underwear at 8:26PM, curled up on your sofa with some weird old book about bobsledding. It was a totally valid reason- not that you needed one, being in the comfort of your own home. But you definitely would feel the need to explain yourself in about 3... 2... 1-
“Bronson it’s definitely not a big deal but I was just wondering how long nose bleeds are actually meant to last? Because I think 40 minutes is a really long time and also outside kind of looks like a murder scene and oh god underwear-”
The boy came bounding into the room, one hand on the doorknob while the other held a huge wad of tissue on his nose. It was a jerk reaction, shutting the book in your hands and sitting bolt upright, grabbing onto your sweater and pulling it past your thighs, a questioning look slapped into your expression.
“Oh, bugger. Oh god. I’m so sorry. I thought this was where they kept the first aid stuff, I- You’re not Bronson. You’re not wearing trousers- ow!” He covered his eyes with his hand, turning away and subsequently hitting his already bloody face against the door.
You recognised that whimper of pain from the many many times you had heard it at work. If it wasn’t for the fact that the kid was basically a worldwide legend after his stint in the Olympics and how often you’d seen him around, you could have recognised Eddie ‘The Eagle’ Edwards from just that whimper. He fell over. A lot.
“Hey, woah- uh, steady it-its okay, I... You can turn around, it’s fine.” You say, pulling on some pyjama shorts lying on the arm of the sofa. They were shorter than the sweater, but you didn’t really notice that as soon as Eddie turned around again and you saw the mass amount of blood splattered down his jacket.
“Jesus-”
“Okay, I’m just gonna go, uh, sorry-”
He turned again, but you held onto his shoulder and turned him back around,
“Hey, no. Sit down. It’s Eddie, right?” You asked, leading him over to the sofe and standing in front of him, leading his hand to the bridge of his nose and making him pinch it while taking the tissue from the other hand. Eddie nodded as best he could as you guided his chin upwards.
“Right, Eddie, just make sure you keep your head tilted back, okay? I’m just gonna get you something to clean up.”
You didn’t mind blood, so you were fine with carrying the tissues to the bin and grabbing a roll of kitchen roll for the injured skier in your living room. When you returned, you had to hold back laughter at the sight of him, throwing his head back so harshly that his glasses had fallen off his face, meaning he was squinting up at the ceiling, one of his hands where you left it on his nose, the other flapping about madly, trying to find his glasses behind him while trying not to get blood on your belongings.
“What, uh, what did you say your name was?” He asked, voice stifled from holding his nose far too hard. You rushed over, grabbing his glasses before he crushed them, adjusting his grip to the grip that actually stopped nose bleeds and beginning to wipe away some of the blood on his face.
“I’m y/n. The girl who lives in the first aid closet.” You joked, earning an almost pained awkward expression from Eddie. You laughed softly, peering up to swap hands with Eddie, noticing that the blood had stopped flowing. You handed him some tissue as you guided his head back to a normal height.
“There. The bleedings stopped. Just keep ahold of the tissues in case it starts again.”
“Thanks, y/n...”
That was the first time he actually managed to meet your eyes and you realised how close you were actually sat to him. You let a smile spread across your face, before feeling the closeness and lack of clothes and the fact that this guy had just seen you in your pants. You stood up, pulling at the bottom of the sweater.
“I’ll just get you something to clean up and then you can tell me how the bloody hell you managed to get in this mess.”
You practically scurried off, finding out a flannel and a bowl, filling it with warm water and returning to Eddie, who was clutching the tissue to his nose.
“Did it start again?” You asked,
“N-No.. Just didn’t want to get blood on your stuff.”
You laughed again, ignoring intrusive thoughts on how freaking cute this boy was as you sat back down, a little more space between the two of you this time. You wet the flannel, dabbing at Eddie’s face to get the drying blood off of it.
“I’m really sorry about... y’know.” Eddie stuttered out, once more losing the ability to meet your eye. You shook your head, making him lower his tissue-stuffed hands so you could get at his nose, which was covered.
“It’s okay. Honestly. My fault for not locking my door. Let me guess, I should see the other guy?”
“Um.. No. Just the ski slope. It’s quite messed up. Covered in blood.”
“Right.” You laughed again, managing to get the last of the blood and dirt up, “Okay, yeah, you’re good to go-”
You had barely finished your sentence before he was standing up, cheeks glowing quite red for someone who had lost quite a lot of blood.
“Thanks. Thank you, y/n. I-I’m really sorry about...” He gestured over to your body, which looked about as clothed as it did when he first walked in. You stifled an eye roll, still smiling stupidly. It was hard not to, for some reason. Probably because he was so goofy.
“Eddie, seriously. It’s fine. Just... be careful. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Maybe no more jumping tonight.”
“Got it, Doc...” His smile grew, almost in parallel to the silence between you as you both just seemed to just look at each other.
“Well, goodnight, Eddie. It was a pleasure to meet you finally.”
“Yeah... Thanks, again. Goodnight, y/n.”
It was a strange start to your story together, but it was a story that everyone at your wedding found pretty hilarious.
