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sneetsnootyoit · 2 years ago

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My World

Summary: Dio's had a stressful week and you're happy to help.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), teasing, oral sex (kind of), established relationship, sex (obviously), super fluff, NO USE OF Y/N

A/N: I felt like I needed to post something while I'm working on my more major pieces. Also there's no specific description of the reader's body for inclusivity!

Spanish: colibrí - hummingbird, pajarito - little bird, palomo - dove

See it on Ao3!

When you pick him up from work, you have a cheesy grin spread across your face and he tries to hide the grin tugging at his lips at the sight of your gleeful expression. He has no idea what you have planned for him, and that’s a good thing, because after the week he’s had, he deserves some pampering. You already have his favorite playlist on and you’re humming along to one of the songs playing through your speakers while Dio just watches you. He thinks about how radiant you look under the light of the moon peeking through the windshield of the car. It makes your eyes shine and accentuates your face in a way that sunlight simply cannot.

When you pull into the parking lot of your shared apartment, you practically jump over the hood of the car trying to get over to the other side to open Dio’s door for him. He’s unable to stifle the laughter that comes when you trip and fall on your face before you can open the door. He opens it slowly. “Are you okay, birdie?”

You lift your head and roll over to get on your feet, huffing as he steps out of the car. “I was trying to open the door for you,” you grumbled, taking him by the hand once he’d closed the door. You lock the car and you start walking towards the building, swinging the hand holding his while you board the elevator to head to the floor your apartment is on. When you walk through the door, you’re immediately greeted by Dio’s cat. You reach down and scoop her up, holding her in your arms like a baby. She meows at you and looks over to Dio after he closes the door.

“What are they doing to you, huh?” He croons, leaning his face down to kiss the top of her head. You both chuckle and you allow the black ball of fur to jump out of your arms and make her way to the little hammock on her scratching tree.

You smile and turn your attention to Dio, cupping the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He hums against you and he grasps your hips to bring you closer to him. “Have you eaten yet?” You ask, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he nods.

“Mhmm, a customer ordered pizzas for the staff. It was free for me, so I didn’t question it. Why?”

“Just making sure I didn’t need to make you something,” you say quietly, slowly walking backwards towards the bedroom. Luckily for you, it’s a path you travel often, so you don’t have to look backwards to know where you’re going. You can hear and feel Dio’s snickering laughter as you continue to walk backwards and you lightly smack the back of his head, parting only so you could turn and open the door. You grab Dio by the lapels of his coat and pull him into the room, kicking the door shut to keep the cat out.

Dio gives you a curious look with furrowed brows and you give him a mischievous grin while you tug the coat off and let it drop to the floor. “What do you have cooking in that brain of yours, colibrí?”

“Well,” you purr, ghosting your lips across his jaw while your hands push his shirt up and over his head. “You’ve had a stressful week, dove. What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t help you relieve some of that…”

A mischievous smirk that mirrored yours spread across Dio’s face while you nip at his jaw, making him shudder. “Are you gonna take care of me, pajarito?”

“Mhmm…gonna make it all go away. It’ll just be you and me, palomo.” Your hands trail down to unbutton his pants as you walk him towards the dresser, and he works on removing his chains and larger earrings, placing them on the wooden surface. You gently slide your fingers beneath his waistband and pull his pants off, boxers going with before you begin pushing him towards the bed. He moves himself to the middle of the mattress and you stand next to the bed, allowing him to watch you slowly remove your clothes, one piece at a time.

He lazily strokes his cock while he watches you, leaning his head back against the wall with sigh. Fuck...you get more beautiful every time I look at you,” he groans, looking at you with eyes full of desire.

“As do you, angel.” De rolls his eyes at the nickname and reaches out for you once you’ve joined him.

He pulls you into his lap and you straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck to capture his lips with your own while you grind down against him. He lets out a soft moan and you push your tongue into his mouth, carding your fingers through the black curls atop his head. You love when he lets his hair lay naturally.

His hands fall to your hips, making you continue your movements while you explore his mouth with your tongue. When you part, you’re both breathless and desperate, but you’re determined to take care of Dio. He grips you tightly as you squeeze his with your legs and you chuckle. “Easy there, dove…We’ve barely started. There’s no rush,” you murmur, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks and forehead, leaving him breathless in a way he’s never experienced before.

It’s intimate, but not the kind you’ve explored in the past, and it leaves him wanting more of you. Your tender touches send shivers down his spine and you trail kisses across his jaw and over to his ear. You exhale against his neck and he moans softly. It’s no secret to you that his neck and ears are extremely sensitive, and you love to exploit that. You nibble on his earlobe and ghost your fingers over his chest, dancing your fingertips over his nipples.

You revel in the whimper that escapes his lips when you open your mouth to trace your teeth down his neck, latching on to the spot where it meets his neck and biting softly. The quiet gasp that he lets out makes you smirk and you chuckle, opening your mouth further so you can work on sucking a hickey into his neck. He begins to squirm beneath you as you continue moving south, kissing and nipping at his skin along the way. You stop at his chest and look into his eyes while you ghost your lips over one of his nipples, making him jerk beneath you.

“F-fuck, birdie…is the teasing necessary? Why don’t you just-”

“Oh dove, this is only foreplay. I want to get you good and excited before we get to the main event. I’m gonna make you see stars, angel.”

This time, Dio shudders at the nickname, letting out a shaky breath as you resume your journey downwards until you’re able to settle yourself down between his thighs. You can feel his eyes on you when you reach down to grab his legs and pull him down the mattress. He lets out a yelp of surprise as he’s pulled down onto his back and you chuckle, placing a kiss on his stomach. You grasp his ankles and push his legs up so that his feet are flat on the mattress and his legs are spread, giving you easy access to everything you want. When Dio realizes what you’re planning, he groans at the sight of you between his legs. You make eye contact with him and slowly lean down and press a feather-light kiss to each of his inner thighs. You lavish them with attention while Dio twitches above you, his cock leaking against his stomach while he breathes out your name.

You tilt your head in question as you spread his legs a little more and dip your head down to trace his hole with your tongue. “Oh shit, colibrí...fuck, give me more. I need more,” he begged quietly, tilting his head back with a whine when you flatten your tongue against him.

You give him a smirk and a hum, and you carefully push your tongue into his hole, making his cock twitch. You took a moment to slowly fuck him with your tongue before lazily dragging it up his perimeum and over his balls, sucking one into your mouth and moaning around it. You feel Dio’s body jerk and you let him feel the light graze of your teeth over his sensitive skin. You alternate to his other testicle while you begin to dance your fingertips over the length of his cock. You hear him groan and his dick jumps at your touch, giving you an indication of how desperate he’s becoming. When you release his balls from your mouth, you flatten your tongue and lick up the underside of his cock, making him moan at the sudden contact. “Doing so good for me, palomo,” you tell him, wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking lightly.

You can tell by the way he pulses on your tongue that he’s starting to reach his limit and you hum around him. You can practically feel the shudder that goes down his spine and you quickly release him, making him whine at the loss. He watches you as you reach over to his nightstand to dig out the lube, squirting out a generous amount to distribute between Dio’s cock and your entrance. You climb back onto his lap and positioned yourself above him, holding his cock in one hand and bracing yourself on his shoulder with the other. You’re careful and slow as you lower yourself down onto him, stopping every so often to allow yourself to relax and adjust.

You let yourself drop down on the last couple of inches and you both gasp loudly at the change, gripping each other tightly. You lean forward and kiss him deeply, lifting your hips to allow you to lazily fuck yourself on his cock. “Oh shit…oh shit…” he breathes out, letting his head fall back against the pillows.

You brace yourself above him and press your forehead against his, rolling your hips so you can take him deeper. Your noses brush against one another as you whine, Dio gripping your hips so tight that you’ll definitely have bruises. You sit up and place your hands on his chest to help keep yourself upright, using your legs to help you bounce on his cock. His eyes flew open and a breathy moan came out, making you hum happily. “That’s right, my dove…fuck, you like when I ride your cock like this? When I fuck myself on you? Fuck, you feel so good…I’m so fucking full,” you say, clenching around him when the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. It makes you cry out in pleasure, sending sparks shooting behind your eyes and you aim to hit that spot repeatedly.

“Yeah…fuck, birdie. I love the way you squeeze my cock with that tight hole…Fucking love seeing you like this, my- fuck, you’re my world. You’re my whole fucking world, little bird,” he babbles, reaching up to pull you down and kiss you hard.

You open your mouth to protest, but you feel him shift his legs for leverage before he begins to fuck into you, making you cry out in pleasure. You squeezed around him tightly and you braced yourself on your forearms, pressing your forehead against Dio’s. You can tell he’s getting close because of how roughly he pulls you down onto himself, grinding his cock deep inside with each thrust. The moans he makes in your ear are absolutely filthy, matching yours beautifully as you start nearing your own finish. You whimper against his neck when you feel your orgasm begin to build and you do everything you can to keep it from crashing through you. Not yet…

“Fuck- oh fuck, Dio. Fuck, that’s so fucking good! Shit!”

Dio lets out a groan that turns into a whimper as he tries to warn you about his impending orgasm. You can feel him start to slow down and you realize that he is going to pull out and you shake your head. “Shit- No! Don’t fucking stop! Fuck, Dio baby, don’t stop! Give it to me…fuck, fill me up. Come on…” you cry out, barely holding on.

Dio’s caught off guard by your request, but he gets the message and continues his previous pace, slamming into you with such force that you swear you can feel it in your chest. Just as Dio begins to release himself into you, your orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami ravaging a beach and you moan out each others’ names, practically melting into one another while you ride out your highs. You’re vaguely aware of the wet, sticky mess that has formed between the two of you, and you honestly don’t care. You press your face into Dio’s neck and you let out a breathy laugh. “Holy shit,” you murmur, making Dio laugh.

“Fucking hell birdie! That was…"

Both of you are breathless, but you still manage to burst into a fit of giggles. "How's that for stress relief?"

Dio snorts and cups your cheek, pulling your face away from his neck so he can look at you. "Pretty damn good," he says with a smile, pressing his lips to yours. You love getting his genuine smiles, they're your most favorite thing in the world.

You hum into the kiss and the two of you stay there for a while, sharing kisses and holding one another. In that time, the rest of the world fades away and it's just you and Dio. Nothing else matters. Time fades and becomes a vague concept at this moment, completely irrelevant while you're in each others' arms. The two of you are snapped out of your haze when you hear the sound of scratching and meowing at the door. It makes you both laugh and then grimace when you both realize the mess you'd allowed yourselves to sit in.

You sit up slowly as Dio’s softened cock slips out of your hole, dribbling cum onto the bedsheets. You would've been annoyed if you weren't going to change the sheets anyway. You head to the bathroom to turn on the shower and clean up a little bit before you go help Dio strip the bed and put on new sheets. Once the shower is warmed up and ready, Dio opens the door to let the cat in and he joins you in the shower. You wash each other carefully, sharing the warm water and minimal space. It's another form of intimacy that you do not often share. After getting clean, you dry each other off and get ready to actually go to bed. You hold hands while you brush your teeth and you help each other into what little you wear to bed.

The cat wasn't in the bedroom, though. She only wanted you to open the door so she can come and go when she pleases, and to make sure that when she gets her sudden burst of energy at 3 o'clock in the morning, she can adequately bother the two of you.

You and Dio get settled in the bed after you turn off the lights and you take a minute to just stare at each other in the faint moonlight that managed to get in through the curtains.

"Hey dove?" You ask quietly, playing with his fingers as you lay your head on his chest.

"Hm?"

"Did you really mean it?"

"Mean what, colibrí?"

"When you said I was your whole world…did you mean it?"

Dio sighs and you can just barely see the faint smile on his face. "Of course. I meant every word, pajarito."

You pause, taking in the information for a second before you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re my whole world, too.”

TAG LIST: @wannab-urs@existential-angstt@miller--trash

#fanfics #dio morrissey #shane dio morrissey #dio morrissey x reader #gn!reader #technically #no y/n #big fluff #little rat man #stinky rat bastard #we love him #pedro pascal #jaspre writes #they're in love your honor #AAAAAAAAAAA

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luveline · 10 months ago

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𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt.

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat.

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too.

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well.

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause.

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun.

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years.

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled.

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!”

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love).

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.”

“It’s raining.”

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?”

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.”

“How’d you figure?”

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface.

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall.

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.”

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?”

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry.

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.”

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.”

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash.

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?”

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole.

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it.

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.”

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?”

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries.

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it?

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself.

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says.

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek.

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume.

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom.

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full.

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.”

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.”

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you.

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies.

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn.

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!”

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.”

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.”

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease.

“Take the towels, loser.”

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin.

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life.

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you.

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain.

Eddie just stares at you.

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry.

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic.

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh.

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.”

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?”

“What?”

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“I don’t have any underwear.”

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry.

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose.

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says.

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.”

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.”

“I’m twenty one.”

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.”

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.”

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks.

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes.

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?”

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.”

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.”

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows.

“Get lost,” Eddie says.

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.”

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved.

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed.

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.”

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?”

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser.

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.”

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on.

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet.

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.”

“It felt important at the time.”

“Yeah?”

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him.

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.”

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.”

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder.

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment.

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.”

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head.

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks.

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different.

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable.

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.”

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead.

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re rubbing my arm.”

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach.

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest.

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end.

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume.

“You smell nice,” he murmurs.

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back.

Right. Eddie should remember.

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days.

“Too much?”

“The right amount,” he says firmly.

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this.

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before.

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back.

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.”

“For me or you?”

“For me, duh.”

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.”

“You think so?”

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.”

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.”

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it.

“We’re very close together,” you whisper.

“Super close,” he whispers back.

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do.

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?”

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.”

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?”

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?”

What does Eddie think about it?

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer.

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?”

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly.

He can’t not give it to you.

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead.

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue.

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur.

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse.

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly.

“You wanted to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.”

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy.

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs.

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly.

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency.

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask.

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring.

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door.

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him.

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says.

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?”

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.”

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?”

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.”

Eddie grins back.

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring.

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed.

“Eyes on the road.”

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather.

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.”

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding.

He sighs. “No, it does not.”

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.”

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.”

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less.

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.”

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw.

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped.

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say.

“Then open it.”

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?”

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it.

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease.

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze.

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier.

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working.

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.”

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully.

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.”

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended.

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.”

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.”

“Now who’s not funny?”

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

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