you know, i feel like choso is the friendly jock who’s really nice to the weird kids and v sweet to you, the shy girl. he eventually makes you his girlfriend officially after some time. but there was definitely a casual hook up phase that lasted for about a month between you two— a little over a month maybe.
you were a virgin when you met him but obviously that changed over time. it’s a little funny because you actually made the first move oddly enough. he held your cheek one night and— you snuggled your face into his palm, enjoying how warm he felt. every time he touched you it felt like a hug, you relished in it a bit with his eyes on you and a small smile on his face. but you completely took him by surprise when you took his hand and sucked on his pointer finger, looking up at him through your lashes.
you were shy but the kind of cock he gave you turned you into a lovesick, little fucking yandere lite. how could it not? he fucked you like he hated you and that was something you’ve never experienced before. you became somewhat of a fiend, really.
you were shy but you had zero qualms letting him split you open right on his thick, heavy cock— whether it be him folding you into a mating press or riding him until you were cross eyed and drooling.
you were shy but you never hesitated to offer your throat to him as if it were some sort of consolation prize when he had a bad day or a particularly rough day at practice— or maybe the team lost the game. just all “oh no! 🥺 would a blow job help you feel better? ♡” you’re so genuine about it too, he thinks it’s sweet. but he feels bad for taking you up on the offer because he feels like he’s taking advantage of you. he’s all you know, your very first boyfriend. often thinking sex = bandaid.
you were shy but the sweet venom that poured from your lips while he pounded into you was anything but coy. “don’t talk to other girls.. i’ll kill them.” it’s a breathy little remark and you say it as you’re about to cum. if anything, it gets him off— turns him on even more.
you were shy but who would have thought you’d turn into such a little cock drunken minx for him. you’re his own personal cheerleader, so willing to please him.
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eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺
hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.
His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. “I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.
You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.
“No, I’m not,” you insist.
“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”
He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.
“Do you feel okay?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”
He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.
“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.
“Mhmm.”
“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.
“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.
He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”
“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”
Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.
“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.
“Good to know,” he smiles.
“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.
“Is that why what?”
You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”
“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.
You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”
Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”
“Kinda.”
“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.
“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”
“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.
Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”
“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”
You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.
“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.
Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.
“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”
You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”
“Good.”
He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away.
When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.
“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.
It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.
Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.
Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.
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