∘₊✧ and if your roommates were nerdjo and nerdcho..? ✧₊∘
the series
at a glance, your roommates are sweet enough. satoru always does the dishes and he’s very diligent in helping you with your homework. choso’s quieter and keeps to himself, mostly, and he always speaks you in a soft voice and lets you wear his hoodies.
honestly. you couldn’t ask for a better pair of people to share the rent with.
it’s just…sometimes, things feel a little strange.
it’s not something you can name, exactly. just like earlier today, when you told them you were going out and wouldn’t be back until much later. you were dolled up, in a cute little dress and heels to match, and said in that sugary voice of yours that you were clubbing with your friends.
the second the door shut, choso and satoru stood in the living room awkwardly.
thick, awkward silence fills the space, and neither of them lookat each other.
“i have work,” choso says abruptly.
“yeah,” satoru replies just as quickly. “me too.”
they split in opposite directions like magnets repelling, footsteps just a little too fast to be casual.
doors click shut.
your words and you in that dress swirl through satoru’s mind the second he collapses onto his bed, hand already shoved down his pants, palming desperately at his boxers. he presses the heel of his other hand to his eyes, groaning under his breath, and spits into his palm, the wet schlick of his fist wrapped around his cock filling the room.
choso’s diving headfirst for his pillow, burying his hand in the case to pull out a pair of panties - your pair of panties - he’d stolen borrowed out of your laundry basket a few days ago. dark blue and lacy, and he pictured you wearing them under his favourite hoodie on you. the hoodie he had on, that still carried the faint scent of your perfume. he bit down on his hand and moaned as he brought the lace to his hard, leaking cock, the fabric rubbing against it in a way that made his toes curl.
satoru never lasted long when he jerked off thinking about you. choso was lucky to last two minutes with your panties in his mouth and on his cock.
and you, unsuspecting as ever, always come home with your heels dangling from your fingers, lazy smile etched on your face.
satoru and choso always make sure you drink water, make you eat before carefully wiping your makeup off and looking away, faces red, as you change into your pajamas.
the both of them guilt-trodden for their actions with your name spilling from their lips.
neither of them realize they’re losing their minds in exactly the same way.
When Simon came back from missions it was always a surprise to you. Since you two didn't really communicate outside of when Simon came to the flat.
So it was obviously only a matter of time Simon was gonna walk in at a very wrong moment.
When he stepped inside the place was quiet, he threw off his boots and headed to his bedroom, he didn't bother turning on the light, he took off most of his gear and headed to shower.
He cleaned himself off and walked back to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Now he turned on the light, so he could see the clothes in his closet. Though... on a second look to his bed, you were laying in the bed. Very relaxed. Very deep asleep. He gently nudged your shoulder. Which didn't disturb you at all.
He shook you a little harder, light stirring. "Why are you in my bed?" Simon asked quietly, to not scare you. Once you woke up, you stared at him like a deer in headlights. "Uhh... soft." You said, not quite awake yet.
Simon raised a brow at your response. "You're pretty." You continued and laid back down.
Only now Simon realised he hadn't put his mask back on. He cleared his throat. "Are you drunk?" He asked. Yet you were back asleep already.
He joined the bed in a couple hours, keeping his distance as to not wake you, but he was still staring...
It couldn't have been wrong to sleep in his bed alongside you, if you were the one who climbed in first...
Whatever.
Simon slept great for the first time in months, and he got awoken by the smell of pancakes.
You ship Satoru and Suguru, your two roommates, until they get pissed and decide to fuck your brains out <3
WC: 3.6k (it was supposed to be a short fic but oh well)
smut | fluff and smut | reader's just like us
You met Satoru and Suguru at the university's orientation. They stood tall and loud, with Satoru's wide grin and Suguru's handsome composure. Ying and yang, sun and moon, fire and water, with both being complete opposites, but at the same time filling each other perfectly. Satoru was so goddamn wild and obnoxious, a rich kid knowing that most first years fell for his look the moment he entered the classroom, and Suguru smiling slyly, quietly, enjoying subtle attention from his secret admirers.
It clicked between the three of you instantly. Just like that, with Satoru inviting you to a random party and getting so fucked up, you needed to help Suguru take him back to his apartment. Their, maybe, because it turned out that Suguru lived there too.
And you've never seen a flat as big as that one, with three separate bedrooms and two bathrooms, a spacious loft with high ceilings and sunny windows. It looked quite homey, tho could use a bit of womanly touch.
So when you helped Suguru drag Satoru to his bedroom and leave his heavy, snoring body on a queen bed, both of you were panting heavily as if you'd just finished a marathon.
"Satoru, you fucker, I hope hangover will eat you alive tomorrow," Suguru murmured, and you laughed quietly, never taking your eyes off the sleeping beauty, spread comfy on his white sheets.
And somehow, you have no idea at what point and why, but words spilled from your lips about how difficult it was to find an apartment as a freshman, with enough money in your bank account to live on instant noodles for the next week and rent so high you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it.
"Just move in here."
The world almost stopped when he said, voice so casual you asked if he had drunk too much.
Suguru rolled his eyes, taking you for a tour around the house. "No, seriously. We have one room available, you're fun, Satoru rolls in money, and I'm sure he would be happy to have someone more enthusiastic here."
You weren't sure of it, considering that you've known each other for what, three days? They seemed like nice, fun guys – also hot, but not in a normal way, but more like I think I just started ovulating type – so living with them maybe wouldn't be that bad.
You stopped pondering when Suguru showed you the bedroom. Spacious, neat, with a bed twice as big as the one you had back home, a lovely desk and a TV – hello?? – so you immediately struck a bargain.
"Good, you can move in tomorrow."
You considered that maybe Satoru should also give his permission, assuming that it was his apartment after all, but Suguru waved his hand and called a moving company to take your stuff.
And Satoru? He couldn't be happier to see you the next day, jumping around like a pup, helping you happily with hanging posters on the walls, and even buying a small chair where you could sit comfortably and write your silly stories.
Ah yeah. Right.
So through the next months of living together, tightening the bond and getting closer than you've ever thought you'll be, with you feeling comfortable enough to roam around the apartment with just panties and a short top, tight around your plump tits – there was one thing you had noticed.
And you would rub your hands like a little devil, biting lip slyly and chuckling under breath, every time you had a chance to sit down with your cute, pinkish laptop and a Word displayed on a screen.
They didn't have to know about the stuff you were writing. They didn't even have to know about things you were reading, with all limbs spread on a shared sofa and soft giggles escaping once in a while. Satoru would look at you with a raised eyebrow and try to steal your phone, but you were always quicker, sleeker, pushing him away with a foot and locking yourself in a bedroom.
"It's fine babe, I know you're reading your fairy porn," he would laugh, because both you and Suguru were using his Amazon account linked directly to his supposedly never-running-out-of-money card.
So, once in a while, he would get a notification, such as "Mating with an Alien will be shipped to you soon!" or "Based on your latest research of fairy smut, monsters & aliens, and cowboy romance, these are your recommendations for this month!" Suguru would receive them from the deliveryman with a chuckle and throw on your bed with "You're getting off to it, aren't you?"
They also knew that you were quite a famous online writer, with a stable and freaky fanbase, just waiting for the next deliciously clenching smut of their favourite characters fucking in every possible scenario. They would even tease you, asking whether you needed a reference material and if a story about sucking off your roommates would sell well.
What they didn't know, however, was that it would. And it was.
But it wasn't a story of the three of you. Nah.
It was about them.
About their secret glances, so feverish and exciting, you were getting wet just by looking at the way their fingers accidentally brushed while reaching for the remote.
The way Satoru would help Suguru brush his hair or sprawl across the sofa like a lazy cat, head shamelessly placed on Suguru’s lap. He wouldn't even react – just automatically threaded his fingers through his white locks.
In the kitchen, Suguru cooked like a man possessed, apron on, sleeves rolled, moving between stove and counter while Satoru leaned against the doorway, stealing bites and getting scolded half-heartedly.
He would also wake Satoru up in the mornings and let him sleep in his own bed, because "Satoru doesn't like to sleep alone."
When you shared a couch, you would usually sit between them, thigh to thigh, hottish, feverish, with their muscular arms behind your back, grazing your shoulder blades in circles.
But to confirm your theory of their secretive love story, one evening you decided to move to the corner.
Satoru looked at you with furrowed brows. Suguru asked if you're on your period and want to lie down, but after saying that, "It's so fucking hot outside and both of you are like walking heaters", they snorted slightly and sat next to each other.
So you observed giggling and kicking your feet like a teenager who just discovered One Direction gay fics, seeing how Satoru rested his head on Suguru's shoulder and how Suguru murmured something to his ear, which made white-hair man chuckle.
At some point, you couldn't handle it anymore. They needed to know. You wanted them to know.
So you asked.
"Have you ever fucked each other?"
Well, yeah, okay, maybe it wasn't the smoothest, the most delicate way you could put it into words, but at least you were forward.
But the world suddenly stopped, together with a movie playing in TV and Suguru's hand gently massaging your calves.
They looked at you with almost no expression, as if their brains tried to process the question you've just asked.
"Have you hit your head?" Satoru asked.
"Aren't you reading too much of this gay porn you've been buying like crazy?" Suguru followed.
Oh, okay, so that was it.
You snorted, almost offended, when you looked back at the TV and filled mouth with another portion of caramel popcorn. "You would make such a good duo, tho. Acting like an old married couple already, get a room, hm?"
They were left speechless, and you tried to keep smile flat, feeling the heavy gaze of both of your roommates. "Not even a kiss, tho?"
Suguru's eyes widened, and Satoru snorted with his mouth full of jellies. "Baby, what's your problem?"
Baby, kitten, sweetie, were used daily, and you didn't even notice the way your name was finally forgotten by both of them, with only cute words slipping from their dirty mouths.
You shrugged, eyes glued to the movie. "You know, there's a chemistry between you two, so I thought that maybe you experimented a bit."
Suguru rolled his eyes, and before he could state that he's definitely not gay and loves (your) pussy dearly, Satoru hummed quietly. "I mean, do you remember when in high school we jac–"
Before he could finish, Suguru closed his sugary lips with his hand, eyes almost burning him through. "Don't feed her fantasies!"
But it was too late. You already caught on.
And a sly smile slipped your lips, when you moved on the couch closer, breast brushing Suguru's biceps. His breath hitched, but you didn't notice, resting hand on his thighs, dangerously close to throbbing dick.
"You did what, Toru?"
He mumbled something into Suguru's skin before giving it a quick, wet lick.
"You jackass!" Suguru hissed, wiping his hand on Satoru's hoodie.
Your eyes burned with a fever, so intense and clearly lost in obscenity, Satoru's throat bobbed, and he immediately regretted spilling out their secret. "N-nothing, actually. I-I must've made a mistake."
And if they thought that it was the last time you mentioned this topic, dropping it on that night with a smack of your plump lips – they were wrong.
Because you would follow them with your eyes, every-fucking-day, observing closely, with your panties tight around your ass and nipples perked under the material of your almost transparent top.
They knew summer in Tokyo was sizzling, but dear god. Let them breathe!
How could you ever think of them being into each other, when Suguru would smell your panties while doing the laundry, and Satoru used every occasion possible to lay his head on your plush tits?
Were you stupid or just not interested in them?
If the first one, well, they would fuck you stupid then.
If the second one, they needed to somehow make you look at them as men and not one of those gay couples you wrote your stories about.
Because the moment both of them have laid their eyes on you, they couldn't stop thinking about fucking their pretty roommate in every corner of the apartment, feeling like men starved every time you would greet them in the morning with messy hair and those obscenely tight pyjamas.
You were smart, funny, so fucking gorgeous, freakishly perverted in all the best ways, and could have them down to their knees if you asked to.
But you didn't!
Instead, it turned out you were more persistent than they thought, attacking them with random questions when they didn't expect, or glancing at the way Suguru would fill the kitchen's shelves with Satoru's favourite snacks.
"Stuffing full for your boyfriend, aren't you?" he wanted to erase this shit-eating grin from your face, but his eyes couldn't leave the droplets of water that rolled down your chin, down to open cleavage when you took a large sip.
"And you're a delusional pervert, aren't you?"
You laughed heartily, leaving him with a smirk and a shake of his head. "Baby, these stories twirl wrong gears in that pretty head of yours."
You sat on the barstool while he prepared pancakes for your Saturday morning breakfast. Satoru was still sleeping, snoring softly in Suguru’s bed. "I'm not the one sleeping with a man every night."
He stopped mixing the cake mass, glancing at you.
And this time, he didn't know what to say.
"Boom," you puffed, already feeling like a winner. "You're not beating boyfriend's allegations."
You did it constantly.
Not only with Suguru, but with Satoru too.
You would go out to do the shopping and, how accidentally!, the only shortcut would lead through the park, with a huge pond stuffed with koi fish. And although Suguru told you to buy ingredients for dinner quickly and get your asses back home, both you and Satoru stopped to look at cute fish swimming peacefully in circles.
"Oh god, Satoru, look!" You gripped your fingers on his bicep and showed a pair of white and black fish, floating together closely, as if synchronised. "It's literally you and Suguru!"
And Satoru would snort and drag you away from this pond. He promised himself to never go through this fucking park again.
"Can't men be just very good friends?" he asked once, sprawled on a sofa with his face deep in your plump thighs.
It was a hot summer night, with a fan humming softly in the background and crickets singing outside your balcony. You would wear those obscenely tight shorts, showing a bit of ass and sitting low on your hips. And because you were already used to his clinginess, he would put his arms around your waist and lie down innocently, sniffing your freshly washed body in a secret.
Wet hair was dripping down your shoulders, with droplets sliding down the chest.
"Not on my watch. Anyways, neither you nor Suguru is convincing enough to beat the fruity accusation."
Another time, while once again sitting between them both, unaware of the glances sent towards your bare legs and plump thighs touching theirs, you asked them one of those stupid questions again.
"Would you prefer to be Batman or Superman?"
Suguru sighed, while Satoru furrowed his brows, as if thinking about the correct answer.
"Have you read another fanfic?" Suguru asked.
You shrugged, bending over to the table and taking a sour jelly from a bowl. Your top rolled slightly, showing a part of back, with soft skin glimmering under the TV's glow.
"Don't underestimate me. I wrote it," you chuckled, seeing Suguru's face twisting in agony. "So? Which one?"
"Which one is a top?" Satoru wondered, getting a murderous glance from your other roommate. "What? I don't wanna be the bottom!"
And then both you and Suguru looked at him. Too quickly, too synchronised, with raised eyebrows and eyes falling down his pretty, whiny lips, before Suguru grinned. "Satoru, have you ever looked in the mirror?"
The white-haired man scoffed, hitting you with a sweet ball of caramel popcorn. "I'm not a fucking bottom! Let Suguru take it up his ass."
"Yeah, and forks are in the kitchen, come on Toru." You said, taking another sweet ball from between his fingers, twirling your mouth around his milkish skin.
You had truly zero idea about the way you worked them up, hadn't you?
At least that's what they thought, but...
But actually, you knew.
You noticed their hungry glimpses, gentle touches, and Satoru purring like a cat every time you hugged him to your chest. One evening, when you went quietly to the bathroom, you even saw Suguru, with his lids closed, breathing a bit ragged and a pair of your sleeping shorts pushed tightly against his nose.
Oh!
How exciting it was to see him on his knees, nose deep down your dirty panties, the one you slept in for probably the last few days. His cock was sitting heavily in his hand, while he pumped it quick, raw, with a head dripping with precum and veins popping out every time he took a fresh sniff.
So, well, at some point, you stopped shipping them, although you loved how pissed they got when you suggested that gay allegations were still there.
That's why you shouldn't be too surprised when, a few nights later, your fanfiction – and quite explicit it was, worth mentioning! – somehow got into Satoru's hands. And he somehow deduced that the doomed duo you were writing about was him and Suguru, because "Why the fuck Superman has white hair, and Batman wears a bun?!"
And considering the tension between the three of you, that hung in the air like a gallows ready to fall on the traitor's head, you really shouldn't be surprised with Suguru lying between your legs, thighs pushed to your bare breasts, and back pressed against Satoru's chest.
"His huge cock caught on Superman's tight hole? Give me a break, sweetie, the only hole my cock can fill is this one," Suguru murmured, putting his tongue flat against your folds, slurping and drinking the slick that rolled down his chin.
"And why, the fuck do you think I wouldn't like a blowjob, hm?" added Satoru and a moment later, you felt something heavy, sticky, warm on your lips, with a musky scent filling your senses. It smelled so delicious, manly and made your hole tighten around Suguru's lapping tongue. "No one ever told you to shut your mouth, and it shows."
You only managed to moan softly before his feverish tip with precum dripping down its fat shaft, pushed through your lips. "Mhmmmm."
Suguru put one finger in, twisting it, bending, looking for this spongy button that a second later made your thighs squeeze his head and a deep moan escape your throat.
"S-shit, Suguru, careful. She squeezed me so hard I almost came." Satoru's breath was already jagged when his fingers slipped into your hair and grabbed it fully, tightly, leaving you no option but move your throat according to his wishes.
"Fuck baby, it smells even better in real life," Suguru mumbled with furrowed brows and blushed cheeks, when he took a deep, long sniff of your syrupy folds, stuck by your juices. He circled your clit with his tongue, sucking in gently with hollowed cheeks, until your head spun and eyes rolled back.
Satoru's cock felt heavy in your mouth, going deep down your throat and stretching in deliciously, hitting it back with his hottish head. "Are you gonna let Suguru fuck you? Hm? Will you be a good whore and open your pretty legs for him?" he fucked your throat deeper, grinning at the sheer look of your teary eyes. "You can use it as a reference for your silly stories, huh?"
With how busy and full your mouth was, you could only nod quickly, feeling Suguru's long cock tapping on your folds. "As much as I want to taste your pussy, you need to learn a thing or two, sweetie," and then he pushed it inside, scraping your walls and drenching his shaft in your slick, until you felt it in your lungs. "For example, I really fucking love how your pussy clenches on my cock. Fuck, loosen up, or you'll snap it in half."
He shrugged slightly, feeling your walls tightening around it even stronger, juicier, seeing a wide grin pushed on the lips and eyes of a true fucking perv, enjoying being manhandled and fucked stupid by your two rommates.
Satoru's pulled out for a moment, letting you catch your breath.
And, oh, you really used this moment.
"Stop talking and fuck me sensles, you perv. Imagine my pussy's those pinky pants you cummed into last night." Suguru raised his eyebrow, pupils almost dilated, seeing your shit-eating grin once again spreading on your lips. "And you," you turned to Satoru. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend–"
But you didn't finish, because Satoru pushed his cock inside your throat once again, so brutally, your nose was buried deep in his white pubes.
"Whores have no right to speak, sweetie," he murmured, seeing fat tears running down your cheeks and eyes rolling back.
And Suguru, oh dear, he took out his cock, until only the tip was caught on your sucking walls, and a second later, thrusted it back inside raw, knocking the air out of your lungs. You felt his heavy balls on your ass, pelvis right against yours, pubes grazing your clit when he pinched it and laughed, seeing shock going through your body.
"You really are a lost cause, baby."
Squelching, slapping, soft moans were spreading through your bedroom, with Satoru fucking your throat and cutting of acces to air, while your cunt gripped Suguru's cock, milking him dry and soaking in your saps. He put your leg on his shoulder, going in even deeper, brutal, rearranging your pussy with a delightful smile on his face and head lulled back, completly lost in pleasure.
"Mmm baby, this pussy, ngh– walking around in this short and nipples out, like a fucking whore." Long, dark hair covered his blushed cheeks when he looked down, seeing fluttering walls around his pulsing grith. "You're gonna let me cum inside, right? Have a reference material for your next creampie or breeding kink fic. Tell me you're ovulating and I'm gonna put a baby into you."
But you only whined, scratching Satoru's thighs when he set a brutal pace and fucked your throat senseless. He bucked his hips hard, swollen tip scratching the back of your throat with a weak moan escaping his lips.
"You better swallow everything, baby." thrust, thrust, thrust, with both men working in a synchro. "If I knew your throat was this tight we could do it sooner, huh?"
And a moment later, when you felt warmth pooling in your lower belly, head spinning, and Suguru pinching your clit, circling nerves with his wet finger, you clenched both pussy and your throat. Warmness spilled down your throat, back deliciously arched, and Suguru thrusted his tip right against your cervix, pumping it full of his cum. It was hot and heavy in your stomach, with your throat wet and sticky from Satoru's white ropes. You cummed together with them, spilling hot juices all over Suguru's pelvis, feeling shivers down your spine.
Satoru fell back on cushions, wrapping his arms around your wet body and pressing you back against his chest. He was breathing heavy when Suguru laid down on your bare belly, feeling your fingers going gently through his dark locks.
There was a moment of silence before you laughed softly and shook your head.
"Next time, maybe you can suck ea–"
"Oh shut up," both of them growled, putting their palms on your grinning lips.
I swear it was so funny and hot when I was writing it at 3 am last night
"Oh, That Little Thing? Really?"
Roommate!Eddie x Reader
Summary: Eddie, rushed and late, kisses you on his way out the door this morning. You have not been able to let it go. When he comes home, you avoid him, shy. But he is not stupid. He catches on. And he could not get any more amusement out of this.
WC: 3.2k
Warnings: Language, Eddie being a little shit, fluff, teeny bit of angst.
Masterlist
"God, where the hell--"
You couldn't help the amused smile that graced your tired cheeks as you watched the scene before you. Eddie struggled to buckle his belt as he tore apart the couch cushions, flinging them aside as he dug. Someone had misplaced their keys, and they had overslept. It wasn't looking too good for Eddie right now. You sipped your coffee casually, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"Are you sure you haven't seen them?" He asked for maybe the seventh time, running a hand through his unruly curls.
"Nope," you replied. "Not my keys."
He shot you a glare-- not necessarily an angry one, but certainly not pleased with your comment. "Will you please look one more time?"
A look to the left, a look to the right. Nothing. You shrugged, earning a groan from Eddie. You were starting to feel a bit bad. His boss wasn't exactly the kindest when it came to early morning fumbles, and he had already been late once this week. One more mistake might cost him his job. With little hope, you set down your coffee and joined him in the living room, stepping carefully over the cushions strewn about the floor.
"Did you look under the couch?" You asked.
"Of course, I did. I don't understand how they could have just--"
Eddie watched with a raised eyebrow as you lowered yourself to your stomach. He didn't mind the view, either. To his surprise, you extended an arm under the couch, pulling back within seconds. In your hand was a silver key with a red tag-- the key to his van.
"Then what's this?"
Eddie chuckled sheepishly, taking the key from your grasp. "I, uh, I guess I missed it. You're a lifesaver; thank you."
You gave him a warm smile, which he returned with more than you expected. In an instant, and only for that instant, his lips landed on your cheek-- dry, soft, but not chapped. You felt yourself bluescreen, any thoughts dying off. And then his lips were gone. So was he, with little more than, "I'll be back tonight!"
You stood in the sea of cushions, dumbfounded. What the hell had just happened? Eddie doesn't do that-- he doesn't kiss his friends. He's clingy as shit, but he's not that clingy. And all you had done was find his keys; it wasn't like you bought him a car that actually started reliably in the winter. Why did-- why did he do that?
It took you too long to bring yourself back to Earth. You had to be overthinking this. Yes, that was the problem. It was you, not Eddie. He didn't mean it. Just a friendly 'thank you.' Nothing more, nothing less.
That's what you tried to tell yourself as you put the couch back together. You weren't very convincing. You and Eddie had always had a... certain dynamic. It wasn't romantic, but it was more than friends. He definitely had a bit of control over you, but he was wrapped around your finger. One little pout with your big, doe eyes and rosy cheeks, and he'd fold. It had gotten him in some situations before. That was how he ended up with French braids and tattoos colored in with Sharpie on your birthday. And how you ended up sleeping in his bed-- in his arms-- during the last heinous storm. Neither of you wanted to admit just how head-over-heels you were for the other.
"It didn't mean anything," you mumble, dumping your now cold coffee down the sink. "Not a thing."
You told yourself you believed it constantly through the rest of the day. Staying busy helped. The vacuum helped drown the thought that maybe it did mean something. A walk down to the dog park certainly distracted you for a while. So did your weekly screening of Young Guns.
But once you heard the little jingle of keys in the door, and the creaking hinges, you knew you were cooked. The thoughts came rushing back with Eddie's arrival, and so did the embarrassment.
"I'm home!" He called out.
Normally, you would call out with a greeting, or your location, but today? Radio silence. You didn't know how to respond, not with your brain as fried as it was.
"Hello?"
You opened your mouth as you reclined on your bed, but no sound came out. No words waited in the queue.
"Hellooo?" He almost whined. You could hear the desire for your attention in his voice.
With a swallow, you worked up the nerve to respond. "Just-- just a second!"
Eddie's steps quickly came towards your door. Running on autopilot and adrenaline, you stood up, then stopped. What was the plan now? Just stand here like a dummy?
You didn't get the chance to think of step two before Eddie pushed your door open. He greeted you with a wide smile, opening his arms for you.
"Hey, Y/N. What are you up to?"
"N-nothing, really," you answered nervously, stepping into his arms. His chest was warm, the fumes clinging to him smelling strongly of nicotine and home.
"Yeah? You sure?" He looked down at you with a smirk. "You sound nervous. And you're so tense." He rubbed his hands up and down your back for emphasis.
You nodded, not sure of what else you could do.
"Mmm, I don't believe you," he teased in a sing-song voice. "You're all nervous, and tense, and you look like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Were you doing something naughty?"
"God, Eddie; no!" You exclaimed, face flushing. You leaned slightly away from him, flustered.
"Oh, yeah? You sure?"
"You just-- caught me at a weird time."
"Did I?"
"Yes. And that's it." You crossed your arms over your chest, trying your damnedest to be convincing.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he said with a shrug. "So, listen. I know it's my night to cook dinner, but I'm just not feeling it. How's pad Thai sound?"
"Fine."
"Two stars, right?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. I'll go order, and I'll let you finish up your private time."
"Eddie!"
He cackled as he sauntered back out your bedroom door. "Have fun!"
Asshole.
~~~~~~~~
Normally, you ate dinner with Eddie. Even when you wanted nothing more to just lay down by yourself and wallow in whatever emotions you felt, Eddie always got a little time with you every night. It was his favorite part of the day, dinner. He would never admit it, but on the nights when you couldn't be home for dinner, he felt absolutely miserable. Abandoned. Like a dog that didn't understand that their owner would be back later, just standing at the door as their tail slowly fell back down. But you couldn't waterboard that out of him. He would take it to the grave and whatever lied beyond that. So, when you told him that you were going to eat in your room tonight, he let out a whine of anguish and distress.
"No!" He cried. "Why? We always eat together. We're eating together, okay? Come sit." He patted the spot beside him on the couch, a pleading look in his eyes.
"I just have some stuff I need to work on, Eds. Really important. Maybe we can watch a movie later instead, 'kay?"
"Not okay," he grumbled, setting his box of pad Thai beside him and folding his arms. "Not okay at all."
"Sorry, Eddie."
It hurt your heart to walk away. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your back, almost begging you to come back and sit with him. You felt horrible leaving him, but you just couldn't face him. Not when he seemed to have forgotten about that little parting gift he gave you this morning. Because then, that really meant that you were overthinking, and you didn't want it to be true. No matter how many times you told yourself it was true today, you didn't really want to accept it.
And so, you sat on your bed, notebook open and blank. The work you did need to do wasn't happening. You just couldn't think straight. Well, you couldn't think about anything other than Eddie, to be frank. You occasionally picked at the noodles, not really eating intently. They didn't taste right without Eddie beside you.
"God, pull your head out of your ass," you admonished, dropping your head into your hands. "It didn't mean anything. Get it through your thick skull."
But your skull was just too thick. The thought couldn't penetrate through, unable to join and soothe the jumbled mess of questions already residing in your brain.
Maybe a shower would help.
~~~~~~~~
A shower did not, in fact, help. It didn't help your thoughts, it didn't help your anxiety, and it sure as hell didn't help poor Eddie out on the couch. He couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Had he said something? Did his comment about private time really get to you that bad? Or maybe you didn't like pad Thai anymore and just didn't want to tell him?
What had he done?
He sat on the couch for a long while, watching as Sam Elliot and Patrick Swayze kicked absolute ass in their 1989 flick. Dalton flirting with Doc didn't make him feel any better. He was always flirting with you. He loved the reaction it got him-- the deep blush and squeals of embarrassment made his heart swell. He hadn't flirted with you once today. He felt like he was going through withdrawals. He needed his bestie back, he decided. He was going to find out what he had done wrong, and he would right it in a flash, and then, he'd be back to teasing and flirting like his life depended on it.
Just as he made the decision to go hunt you down, you stepped out of the steaming bathroom. Your hair, still a bit damp, hung down long over your back. Your fleece pants bunched up around your ankles, too long but too comfortable to do anything about. And your oversized shirt-- no, wait; that was definitely his shirt-- went down to almost your knees, giving you a doll-like look. It was almost adorable.
You tried to walk right past him and to the kitchen, but somebody found their voice. It was strong and smooth as the coffee you had been forced to dump this morning, and it was calling for you.
"Y/N? Come see me for a moment."
Your heart sunk. Shit. Here came the conversation you didn't want to have. With stiff shoulders and a pounding heart, you shuffled over to the couch, stopping a couple feet in front of him.
"Yeah?"
"Come sit," he commanded softly, patting his lap.
You flushed. You could only think of one other time you had sat on his lap. But to be fair, you needed it. You had been absolutely hysterical, having had the worst day and horrible stomach pains. Even if he hadn't pulled you onto his lap that day, you probably would have crawled up there yourself. With a deep breath that did nothing for your nerves, you lowered yourself cautiously onto his lap.
His hands went to your waist immediately, a small 'tsk' sound slipping from his lips. "No, I wanna see you," he informed you as he rotated you so you were straddling his hips. Looking him right in the eyes. His warm, honey eyes that reminded you of the safest place in the world.
Don't think of that now. Just get this over with.
"What's up?" You asked, feigning a collected manner.
"You, my friend, have been avoiding me." He tapped your nose. "And I want to know why."
"I haven't--"
"Oh, bullshit," he scolded. "You have, too, and don't lie to me. You always tell me exactly where you are when I get home, and you never hesitate to come hug me. I had to shout three whole times for a response. And if we're being honest-- unlike somebody-- I don't think you we're having some fun with yourself. I think you were avoiding me. And then you didn't want to eat dinner with me. We always eat dinner together when we're both here. We've done it since we moved in. So, there's only one explanation here: you're avoiding me, and I want to know why."
A little pout found its way to your lips. You'd been found out. You should have expected this. It might have taken him a couple extra years to graduate, and he might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but Eddie wasn't stupid. Especially when it came to you.
"No, none of that, now." His thumb rubbed over the corner of your lips. "Put that pout away and tell me why you're avoiding me."
"I-- um..."
"Come on," he coaxed. I don't have all night. I mean, I do, but there's other things I'd like to do tonight than try and pry the truth out of you. So out with it. Why is my best friend avoiding me?"
"Because you kissed me."
You could barely hear the words. They came out as such a pathetic little statement, something you would more expect to hear from a child in trouble than yourself.
"What was that?"
You steeled yourself, forcing your pout off your cheeks and looking into Eddie's patient eyes.
"You kissed me today."
A look of realization crossed Eddie's face, quickly followed by a smile. He chuckled and shook his head, tucking his arm across your back and pulling you close.
"Oh, that little thing? Really? One little kiss is all it takes to get you all wound up?" He teased. "That's pretty pathetic, you know."
"It's not funny, Eddie--" You tried to pull yourself from the crook of his neck, but one firm, warm hand snuck up your neck and cradled your head right where it was.
"Shh, it's fine. I'm not making fun of you," he assured, even though the smile was still plastered across his face. "I mean, I am, but it's sweet. That's all."
He held you like that for a moment longer, fingers working through a couple tangles in your damp hair, before he spoke up again.
"But... why did it get you so worked up? There's no reason for all this... tension."
You huffed, feeling the pout work its way back to your face. There was plenty of reason to get worked up. Your best friend, who you had been all but pining over for the past several years, kissed you, and he didn't seem to think twice about it.
"It's stupid."
Now this, Eddie wouldn't stand for. The smile erased from his face, he gently tugged your head out of the spot he had put you in, looking you dead in the face. "It's not stupid," he insisted firmly. "No matter what it is. Now you tell me right now why you're all stressed about it before I call Billy."
"Don't call Billy; he scares me--"
"Then answer the question," he chuckled, hands finding their way to your cheeks. "I promise, I won't judge you. I've never judged you before-- except for when you put mustard on your meatloaf; that was a war crime. So unless it's that, you're absolutely fine."
"...promise?"
God, you sounded so small. A warm smile found its way to Eddies lips once more, unable to get over just how precious you were.
"Yes, hon. I promise."
Hon. He had never called you that before.
"It, um... I don't know what it meant. I really wanted it to mean what I wanted it to mean, but I told myself that there's no way it could," you admitted.
"And what did you want it to mean, hmm?" Eddie could already see the answer. If he wanted to be kind, he would have answered for you. But he needed to hear you say it.
"Eddie--"
"No, no, I want to hear it. Tell me what you wanted it to mean."
Hesitantly, you put yourself back in the crook of his neck. His hand automatically followed you, cupping your skull in a comforting weight. You couldn't look at him.
"Just say it," he said softly. "It'll be fine."
You let out a shaky sigh into his skin, closing your eyes. Now or never.
"I wanted it to mean that you liked me," you muttered.
"You wanted it to mean that I liked you," he mused, absently rubbing your back. "Interesting."
Nobody said anything for a moment. You were too scared to breathe, and Eddie? He couldn't think of a single thing. Strange for him. He always had some smart quip locked and loaded, but not now. Maybe it was how small you seemed. Or how genuinely upset you were. Or the fact that he did like you but was just a bit too prideful to admit it.
"What would you do if it did mean that I liked you?" He asked quietly.
"...I guess be really happy. I don't know."
"And if it was just... friendly? Just a nice little 'thank-you' for saving my ass?"
"...I guess be really sad." This answer came out a tad quieter than the last. It had been friendly. Nothing more, nothing less. But you were too damn hopeless to see that.
"Well, we can't have that, can we?"
It took a moment for Eddie's words to register. We can't have that, can we? So, opposingly, we could have you be really happy. Was that right?
"...What?"
Eddie shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. He tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged just slightly, coaxing you from your hiding spot.
"I said, 'we can't have that, can we?' We can't have you being all sad," he repeated.
"So, what-- what is it that you're saying?" You needed to hear it. Like he needed to hear that you wanted the kiss to mean more, you needed to hear him say that it did mean more. "What did it mean, Eddie?"
He pushed some hair out of your way, brown eyes locking onto yours. "What if I gave you a hint? I like games."
You frowned. "Eddie--"
"Shh." He put a finger to your lips, a smirk growing on his own. "I think you'll like this hint."
In a moment, his lips replaced his finger, locking gently onto yours. They were still soft, dry, and you could taste the pad Thai on them, but they were also kind. Loving. You couldn't bring yourself to kiss him back, absolutely stunned.
After he clocked that you weren't kissing him in return, he pulled back. He had thought that something was wrong, but once he saw your wide-eyed expression and jaw fall to the floor with nothing left to anchor it in place, he chuckled. He tapped the tips of his fingers under your chin twice.
"Pick your jaw up, hon," he teased. "And tell me if you understand now."
All you could do was nod. He smiled proudly.
"Good. You gonna let me do that again? Because I really liked it."
Again, a nod.
"Are you going to participate this time?"
Once more.
"Words, please. This is contractual, you know, and your word is your bond."
It took you a moment to find your voice. When you used it, it was shaky and not at all confident, but it did its job.
"Uh huh."
"Good."
And then, his lips were back.
Tada? Haven't written an imagine before, so feedback is much appreciated.
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