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daryldamnson · 1 year

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Caught Up In You

summary: jason manages to corner you at a party. you’re saved by a knight in shining leather jacket who does very well at playing boyfriend. maybe too well. fem!reader

quote from the vampire diaries: "you seem nervous" / "i'm not nervous, i just don't like you"

word count: 2k

title from caught up in you by 38 special

It was a rookie move - separating from the pack.

It’s gross to think of yourself as prey that needs to stick together, but when the basketball team insists on acting like predators - stalking around the room for some poor, unsuspecting girl to push their affections on - then it was all too easy to recognise yourself as prey.

Especially when one of them has you cornered in the empty back room.

“You look exceptionally pretty tonight.”

It’s a compliment, but something about its delivery gives you the ick. Maybe it’s because you know he’s only saying it as a means to an end, maybe it’s because you know he probably would’ve used the exact same line on any other girl were she in your place.

Maybe it’s just because Jason himself gives you the ick.

“Thanks, Jason,” you say, boredom practically dripping from your tone. You’re too polite to not thank him, but rude enough to make it clear you don’t want to talk to him.

He doesn’t take the hint. Somehow, you’d thought he wouldn’t.

“Noticed you’ve been hanging around Harrington a lot lately,” he starts, clearly expecting you to speak up and continue the conversation.

You’re sorely tempted to snap back so? or why the fuck do you care? but you stop yourself in time. You won’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

The silence stretches about three beats too long past comfortable but you power through, picking up various bottles as if in indecision just to avoid looking at him. He clears his throat awkwardly before stepping even closer and almost leaning into you.

Neither of you notice the quiet creak of a door or the figure making its way into the room.

This close you can smell his expensive cologne - it’s nice, in the way most expensive things are, but to you all it stinks of is desperation.

You want to tell him that but before you can he places a hand over yours on the bottle of soda you’re feigning an interest in and speaks, smarm oozing from every word.

“You seem nervous.”

Your hand slips out from under his as you finally turn to look at him over your shoulder, all polite pretence thrown out at his presumptuous touch.

“I’m not nervous, I just don’t like you.”

Jason lets out a choked sound of shock and, feeling a little like you’re living in surround sound you hear a choke behind you as well. It’s Eddie Munson, frozen in position at the back door, glee lighting up his chocolate-brown eyes when they lock yours in a gaze.

He’s clearly attempting to temper the smile stretching at his lips but all that does is highlight the lines of his dimples. Your eyes remain locked with his for what was probably a moment too long before you twist back to see Jason’s face speckled with embarrassed red splotches.

He’s glaring straight over your shoulder at Eddie and you take his momentary distraction to slip a few steps backwards.

Away from Jason; towards Eddie.

Two sets of eyes flick to you and track the movement. It’s eerie how different two gazes can be in a mirror image. One humiliated and angry, the other amused and kind.

You know which one you prefer.

Especially when Jason spits out a venomous “What the fuck are you doing here, Munson? I know you weren’t invited. You never are.”

There’s a look that crosses Eddie’s face - something hard but so softly sad at the same time - for barely even half a second before he’s shooting Jason a grin so clearly intended to wind him up. You’d almost think you’d imagined it if you hadn’t been staring so intently.

He’s pretty in a way you’d never really taken the time to notice before.

Huh.

“Well, actually, Carver, I was just—”

“Looking for me,” you cut him off in what has to be an act of madness. You send Eddie a slightly pleading look as you continue, “right? Babe?”

The term of endearment comes just a moment too late to be believable but Jason’s too in shock to notice.

So is Eddie, based on the wide-eyed look he shoots at you before he schools his expression.

You don’t know this, but he’s a sucker for the puppy-dog eyes - especially when they’re coming from a pretty girl (or Steve Harrington, apparently, but that’s a different story) - so he’s immediately on board, stepping forward to slip one hand onto your shoulder.

There’s a moment where he panics. He’d gone for the most neutral touch he could think of, and you’d certainly wanted him to play along, but maybe he’s overstepped anyway? It’s a very strange and new situation to be in - the role of boyfriend, real or not - he’s not entirely sure how to play it up as realistic without knowing your boundaries in this situation.

Then you bring up a hand to tangle with his, resting them against your collarbone, and he’s filled with relief even as his heart ratchets up its pace at the contact.

You’ve never really interacted but he’s not going to pretend he hasn’t noticed you before. He might be The Freak but he’s also a man - one who can admit to himself that pretty girls twist up his insides in an uncomfortable yet somehow pleasant way.

And good god are you a pretty girl.

“This has to be a joke.” Jason sounds torn between disbelieving and disgusted. His expression tells a similar story.

Jason’s response isn’t that shocking to Eddie, having been on the receiving end of his and his friends’ scorn for more than a few years now, but you seem genuinely angry when you hurl back your rebuttal.

“Y’know, I think I heard that one: jock asshole can’t tell when he’s clearly not wanted.”

You glare over at Jason before turning away from him once more to face Eddie. Your hands are still tangled as you gently place your other palm against his chest and he tries to calm his swirling thoughts.

“Pretty sure I did too,” he murmurs, not even sparing Jason a glance.

“Yeah, right.” Malice practically drips from the words as Jason continues, apparently ignoring both the subtle and blatant dismissals. “We all know Munson couldn’t get a girl like you without kidnapping her. Or even a girl at all, right, Freak?”

Odd choice of words from the guy cornering girls in the back room, prick.

“Hey,” you murmur, quietly enough that he knows it’s just for him.

Eddie refocuses on you. He finds your gaze darts between his eyes in question and, not really sure what you’re asking but certain he’d do almost anything for you right now, he nods gently in assent.

Almost immediately your hand starts to trail upwards, brushing over his collarbone to his throat in a way that sends a shiver up his spine. It’s not until your hand lands at its destination, cupping his jaw gently, as your gaze dips to his lips, that he realises what he’d agreed to.

Oh.

Nervously excited, Eddie’s breath hitches as you lean close to him, eyelashes brushing your cheeks as they flutter closed. Eddie leaves his open for as long as possible, desperate to store this memory away in the most detail he can, but instinct takes over and they close right as your lips ghost over his.

The gentle pressure is there one moment and gone the next. Eddie doesn’t have time to mourn the loss as you press back almost immediately, lips moulding against his for a moment longer this time before retreating again.

Driven entirely by impulse, Eddie chases after you, lips following yours as his free hand comes up to cradle the back of your head. He’s not pulling you back towards him, but the press of his hand encourages you not to pull back any further as his lips meet yours once more.

Both of you now oblivious to Jason’s cursing as he storms out of the room, you press closer to him, your still clasped hands pressed between your chests as you do.

Your tongues meet and he tastes almost overwhelmingly of cigarettes. It’s not something you’d normally appreciate but something about Eddie has you chasing the flavour with vigour, unwilling to pull back even to breathe as you slip your hand from his jaw to grasp at his waist under his jacket.

Eddie appears to be just as entranced based on the way he’s pressing back into you, mouth open and eagerly following your lead.

A barely-there noise escapes him and is immediately muted in your mouth when your fingers grasp at his waist just a little tighter. He’s clearly receptive to this attention as his own hand slips to the nape of your neck and presses - just enough pressure to pull you towards him. As if there was any room left.

Eventually, the need to take a breath deeper than a quick gasp overcomes you both and the kiss slows to a halt, mouths parting slowly, reluctantly, and eyes fluttering open to meet in a gaze.

You’re both panting gently, still wrapped up in each others’ personal space as the sounds of the next room seep back into your consciousnesses. Loud laughter, louder music - the house party essentials.

There’s a thump against the door and you both practically leap apart, twin gazes set on the doorway where no figure appears. Not someone coming in, then, just an unruly dancer.

The awkwardness sets in all at once.

Apparently years of being barely acquaintances doesn’t lend itself to post-kiss congeniality.

“So–” you begin, speaking directly over his “Do you–”

“Oh, sorry,” you both stumble, hurriedly apologising over each other.

There’s a moment of silence where neither of you seem to be able to bring yourselves to look the other in the eye. It’s uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as your purposefully engineered silence with Jason earlier.

Why was it easier with my tongue in his mouth?

The thought makes your eyes flicker over to him, more specifically to his lips, flushed and pink and still a little wet as they are.

“Um, thanks,” you start, clearly surprising him based on his wide-eyed expression. “For, y’know… With Jason.”

You’re starting to think maybe the reason it was easier earlier was because your tongue was too busy trying to lick the taste out of his mouth to spew out awkward sentences like that.

“Yeah, I… I mean, of course, he’s - Jason’s a dick, I…” He trails off, cheeks flushing as he bounces between looking at you and somewhere vaguely over your shoulder. “Of course.”

“He is a dick.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the statement or the conviction behind it but something about it makes him smile. The overall effect of his pink cheeks, abused lips, and awkwardly adorable smile is very charming and a warm affection blooms somewhere in your chest as you smile back at him.

The uncomfortable air isn’t completely gone, but the tension is cracked at least.

Interruption finally comes in the form of three giggling, drunk girls as they stumble into the room. They each spare you one odd glance before deciding that the refilling of their cups is more important.

Their chatter fills the room and Eddie does this odd little swing of his torso, left, then right, like he has too much energy and isn’t sure what else to do with it. It’s kind of endearing.

You’re gearing up to speak but Eddie beats you to the punch.

“So, uh, you wanna head back to the party?”

He gestures over to the door as the three girls walk back through it, greeted by shouts of excitement. His nervousness is evident on his face as he’s clearly offering to go back with you.

You have a better idea.

“Y’know what? I think I’d rather go home.” Eddie’s expression falls, shoulders dropping ever so slightly.

“Yeah, sure, I–”

“Drive me?” You request, rather presumptuously, if you think about it, but the grin that lights up his entire face reassures you even as it turns your insides to goo.

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, absolutely.”

requests are open but no promises i just go where the inspo takes me

huge thanks to @gathered-moss for being my cheerleader and pointing out my insane pov switches