#sorry if this sucks I didn’t proofread it that well lolzies

[bruisedboys]

shy!reader being embarrassed to ask eddie if he wants to make-out😭and he’s just completely in awe when she whispers under her breath what she wants… because OF COURSE he does how could he not kiss the sweetest girl in the world

this is such a cute idea pls I love him. not proofread!! & def too long to be a blurb lol

shy!fem!reader 1.3k words

Eddie always kisses you when he picks you up from work. Always. He waits for you to get in, grins at you like you’re the best thing in his life, says something along the lines of “hi, pretty girl,” and then leans across his seat to give you a sweet kiss, seatbelt pulled taut across his chest.

So you should be used to it. Used to his smiling mouth on yours and his hand on your shoulder or cupping your jaw. You aren’t.

As expected, you slide in the passenger seat and Eddie’s beaming.

“Hey, pretty,” he says.

You smile back, much more shy than him but no less fond. “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows somehow wider and, as always, leans across to kiss you. One hand cups your face while the other spreads over your thigh. His hand placement results in you being a flustered mess before he’s even kissed you. It gets worse when he does kiss you, when it feels longer than usual, more firm. Something about the whole thing sets your skin on fire and has your stomach rolling.

Eddie seems no less affected than usual. He pulls back with his charming smile and starts the van. Meanwhile, you’re trying not to stare too hard at his hands, their weight having left what feels like scorch marks on your skin, or his mouth, all kiss-bitten. You want him to kiss you again so badly it makes your heart race.

“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?”

You blink. Eddie’s talking to you, you realise. “Sorry, what?”

Eddie chuckles softly. “I asked how your day was,” He says patiently, thankfully forgoing any teasing related to your daydreaming.

“Oh.” You smile and try to look more casual than you feel. Your mind is still spinning from the kiss, mouth tingling with want for more. “It was okay.”

“Yeah?” Eddie drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The wind gushing throw the window makes his wild curls dance. “Any grumpy old ladies to deal with?”

You giggle. Yesterday, you’d told Eddie all about an elderly woman who’d got angry at you for the library not having the book she wanted. As if it was your fault.

“No,” you say, huffing amusedly. “What about you?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “No grumpy old ladies, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You snort. “That’s not what I meant!” You say, though you’re sure he knows.

Eddie laughs loud and it’s music to your ears. He’s got such a nice laugh. It only makes the flame in your chest grow.

“Sorry, babe,” he says. He reaches over and pats your thigh, his eyes on the road. “My day was good, thanks.” He sneaks a glance at you and you know what’s coming before he says it, “Better now you’re here.”

You huff like he’s insufferable. He isn’t, of course, but you like to pretend he is. The rest of the short ride to Eddie’s trailer is spent with Eddie drumming along to the radio, and you trying not to show how badly you want to kiss him.

It doesn’t get any easier when you arrive at the trailer. You sit on Eddie’s bed while he picks away at his guitar, his back against the edge of the bed. He’s shed his jacket and tossed it over the bed post. Underneath he’s wearing a sleeveless band tee that makes his arms look so good you think you might scream.

“What does that look mean?” Eddie asks casually.

You start and realise he can see you watching him in the mirror across from his bed. You meet his reflection’s eyes and your cheeks go warm. Well, warm-er.

“What look?”

“You look like you’re bursting to say something,” Eddie says. He sets down his guitar gently and gets up on his knees, twisting so he can face you. “What’s up, honey?”

“Nothing,” you say. I just want to kiss you til you can’t breathe.

Eddie squints at you like he doesn’t believe you. Before you can fix your features to look like you’re not lying he’s climbing onto the bed and plonking down in front of you.

“You’re a bad liar,” he says, a cheeky smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me what’s wrong, hm? Are you hungry? Tired? Do you want a hug?”

You think it’s sweet how worried he is about you. You’d be endeared but it if you weren’t so embarrassed about what you actually want. A hug does sound nice, though. Maybe it will put out the flame that’s burning in your chest.

“A hug would be nice,” you say, and hold your arms out. You’re past being too shy for hugs. You’re yet to conquer being too shy for kisses.

Eddie falls into your arms heavily, his chin hooking over your shoulder while his arms go around your middle. It’s a nice kind of heavy, though. His scent washes over you. Something woody, something metallic. His cologne, a little musky and a lot attractive.

You’re disappointed to realise the hug does nothing to get rid of your problem. In fact, it makes it worse. Having him this close makes you dizzy. Having him this close also makes you think about how he’s near enough to kiss, to take his face in your hands and press your mouth to his until he’s as dizzy as you feel.

You think your thoughts are showing on your face because when Eddie pulls away, he takes one look at you and frowns.

“I don’t think that worked,” he says, half joking but half serious, too. “That wasn’t what was wrong, was it, baby?”

Baby. You don’t have it in you to lie to him again. You shake your head silently.

Eddie grins. “I knew it!” He declares. He bridges the gap between you again to take your face in his hands. You’re already hot as a furnace and you’re sure your skin burns like wildfire under his touch. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge it, only stares at you so intensely you think you might melt. “Tell me what’s wrong, angel.”

You swallow. He’s very convincing when he wants to be.

“Um,” you say. “It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie’s eyes lose their fire and go soft. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he says, earnest and soft at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You know he won’t laugh. In fact, he’ll probably indulge you on the spot. Still, you’re embarrassed.

“I, um. Do you …?” You stop halfway, unsure how to say it, unsure how to ask. Unsure if you should ask.

Eddie’s hands slide to your shoulders and squeeze. “Do I what, angel?”

You stare at his chest when you say it, your voice barely a whisper. “Do you … want to make out?”

You cringe as soon as you say it. Pull away from Eddie and hide your hands in your face, your heartbeat like a drum in your ears.

Eddie protests. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Come back out, sweet girl, please.”

You do not come back out. You hide and wish the floor would swallow you up. Your heart jumps to your throat when Eddie’s hands find your thighs and pull, pull until you’re half in his lap and he can get his fingers around your wrists.

“Come out,” he begs, tugging at your wrists with much less force than he’s capable of. “Please, angel.”

You let him pry your hands from your face but refuse to look him in the eye, staring at a point over his shoulder instead. Eddie huffs and gets his hand on your jaw to tilt your head until you’re forced to look at him properly. You grumble something incoherent.

“Y/N,” Eddie says. He’s grinning like mad. “Of course I want to make out with you. Are you kidding?”

You gawp. You’d expected teasing, at the very least. “You do?”

Eddie chuckles like he can’t believe you. “Is that hard to believe?” He asks, amused. “Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

Eddie grins. The fire in your chest rises to your throat.

“Yeah. Oh,” he says, and leans in to kiss you.

Your heart pounds. And it doesn’t stop pounding for the next half hour.

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