》eddie munson one shots《 || f!reader/nb!reader

☆ 'perfect' // f!reader

Your leg bounced underneath the oak bench, uncontrollably shaking as you wait. The air was cold, and the trees shuffled to its strength. You sometimes heard soft rustling behind you, making your head jolt. You expected to see him, but it usually ends up being a squirrel or a bird poking through the leaves.

You do this on every Friday, Eddie was your dealer for a while now. You hardly talk, but it was only the last couple months that you ended up staying after the deal for another couple hours, talking and chatting over the wood table. Just the two of you.

It just happens, and you never complained about it, even if you ended up on this bench for hours at a time.

But as you look at your watch, you start to dread the moment he finally arrives. You fear that the awkwardness would overcome you both due to how late he is.

Just as you were about to leave, you hear another rustle against the sticks behind you, the sound repeating itself consistently. Turning around, he makes an appearance. You watch his hair swing as he carelessly stomps on the ground.

His hands were glostening with silver, and he wore his 'Hellfire' shirt. He must've been busy at that club again. A chain hung low from his ripped black jeans, and his shoes were so dirty from this dammed forest.

"You're a bit late." You sigh. The sun was already starting to set, you can barely see it on the horizon through the trees.

He grins as he plops himself onto the seat of the bench across from you, dropping the metal box on the oak. "No I'm not." He glances at the hands of your watch. "Definitely not."

You giggle. His sarcasm obviously making the waiting worth it.

"The usual?" He states.

No small talk? Not a 'hello'? Straight to business, huh?

You're not offended, but you kind of hoped tonight would be a bit more... friendly. Perhaps more.

"I'm not sure."

Your eyes fixated on his rings, his fingers roaming across the silver, the tips of his nails playing with the details and crevices on his jewellery, a digit running across the outline of a cross on his index. You're distracted. Watching his hands play ever so carefully with his jewellery.

His head tilted, lowing slightly-closer to you. "We can call it off anytime. I'm completely fine with that." He smiled, now tapping his fingers on the table, a rythym playing with every beat against the wood.

Your heart skipped a beat. You can't tell if he was being friendly, or if he noticed your sudden change of demeanor, or maybe that the leg under the table never stopped bouncing.

"Good mood, huh?" You return the smile, your eyes finally moving to his own, a deep brown iris only to be seen. You could look at them for hours a time.

His rhythm on the table escalated, he pretended to play a mini guitar, spitting strange noises from his mouth to mimick the sound. This made you chuckle, which made Eddie break out of his trance with laughter of his own.

The air suddenly seemed thick as your chuckles faded softly into nothingness. A dense wall built between you, though soft to the touch. You were confused, this feeling emerging visibly, thought it would stay in your head. But looking into his eyes, you think he felt it too.

Your eye contact fixed, the colour pallete of his face blurred into one as you struggle to focus. His hands slowly lowered from his 'guitar' position, resting again on the table. It's like you've completely forgotten what he came here for.

You pushed aside the metal box he brought, nearly making it fall from the edge of the table. His stared into you, his normal giddy behaviour dissolving within seconds as he notices how you look at him. His smile dropped, his eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as he looks at you.