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lovebugism · 8 months

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Shy!reader who has never had a valentine and Steve who pulls out alllll the stops to make up for this—flowers, chocolate, jewelry, candles, a nice dinner, even stuff like a teddy bear and those cheesy kid valentines

happy love day <3 — steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day (shy!reader, established relationship, cw for brief mentions of anxiety, 1k)

Valentine’s Day afternoon is grey and gloomy, but your beaming makes up for it. You’re smiling wide and sparkling with it the second you see Steve waiting for you in the parking lot outside your work. He’d promised to pick you up, yes, but you’re always giddy at the sight of him.

“Hey, babe,” the boy greets with his own grin, crooked and perfectly pink.

He looks all cool, leaning against the driver’s side of his car. Pristine sneakers crossed over one another, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, strands of cinnamon hair draping his forehead — how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Hi,” you respond in a tinier voice, walking closer to him now. You duck your chin to your chest and peer at him through your lashes, always so painfully shy.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was alright,” you shrug and plant yourself in front of him. The deep scent of cologne staining his shirt combines with the earthy scent of impending rain. The concoction makes you dizzy. “Kept thinking about seeing you the whole time, though.”

Your confession makes the bridge of his chiseled nose scrunch.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he quips before revealing the bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. A small thing wrapped in pale pink tissue paper — pastel lavenders and pale baby’s breath — as pretty and delicate as you are.

You light up instantly, eyes glittering as they flit from the bushel of flowers to Steve’s proud grin. “You got me flowers?” you wonder, quiet with disbelief. You take them with a soft, trembling hand.

Steve shrugs. “‘Course I did.”

You bury your nose in the perfumed florals and flash a sheepish look over them. “No boy’s ever gotten me flowers before…”

Steve knows this. He knows you’ve never had a valentine before him — that you’ve never been with anyone the way you’ve been with him. It’s why he’s always so soft and perfectly patient with you.

“‘Cause other boys are stupid,” he says, grinning when it makes you giggle. He takes another step closer to you and smooths his warm palms over your arms. His thumbs rub gently along the outsides of your elbow. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” you insist, smiling so wide it hurts. “They’re gonna look so pretty in my room.”

“Want me to take you home then? So you can get ready for tonight?”

Your brows pinch at his mischievous tone. “What’s tonight?”

“Dinner. I wanna take you to that fancy, new Italian place in the city.”

“Oh.” Your panic is subtle but still written all over your face. You’re not good at going out — you’re worse at trying new things. Steve’s certainly made you braver, but you’re always a little timid at heart.

Steve knows this and assures with a soft smile, “But we don’t have to if you don’t want. It was just a suggestion.”

“I want to,” you hear yourself say.

His brows raise, visibly shocked. “You do?”

There’s something about the way he looks at you, with a glimmer in his deep brown eyes, that makes you bold. You nod once, firm and foreignly confident. “Yeah.”

Steve tries not to be too obvious about his smiling, but he wears his love for you all over his face without trying. “Then let’s go.”

—————

Rain beats heavy against the window of the candle-lit restaurant, a wild and delicate cadence. The flickering flame paints Steve’s smile golden while his eyes glow a shining amber. He tries to woo you like you’re not wearing the pretty dress he bought you — like you’re not wearing his initial in a pendant dangling between your breasts.

“You’re the Obi-Wan for me,” he jokes before taking a hearty bite of his steak. He chews through the mouthful and gestures with his fork. “You know. Like only one—”

“I get it,” you assure with a sickly sweet smile.

He’s been doing this for a better part of an hour. The Valentine’s Day crowd rushed in, and your waiter got your order wrong, and the whole thing spun you into a tizzy. Steve’s been trying to distract you from your nerves ever since. And it’s worked. Mostly.

“Well, you’re not laughing!” he retorts, playful in his solemnity. “That one was good— you gotta give me some credit.”

“It was,” you assure with a quiet nod. You don’t say it like you mean it, but more like you’re trying to appease him.

“Are you saying you can come up with a better one?” he teases.

You think for a moment, doe eyes flitting across the droplets sliding down the window beside you. Your glossed lips purse all pretty to the side with the weight of your pondering. A smile tugs slow at your lips when you turn back to him. “Obi-Wan Ke-bone-me.”

A laugh sputters from Steve’s mouth. As pure and innocent as sunshine. He nods with a proud, lopsided smile. “You’re right. That was way better.”

“I Obi-Want you tonight,” you follow, giggling still.

“You are on fire tonight, you know that?”

You laugh again, louder this time. Steve beams at the pretty sound and waits until you’ve scooped a too-big bite of pasta in your mouth to compliment you. “You’re so pretty…” he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone. His eyes sparkle with amber, warm and visibly fond.

You stop mid-chew to scowl. You’re too cute to look threatening — especially when you’ve got spare sauce dotted on the corner of your mouth. “Stop…” you scold after you’ve swallowed down the mouthful.

Steve laughs, loud and boyish. “You are!”

“You’re being too nice…” you grouse with your nose scrunched.

“I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be nice.”

“But not this nice,” you insist, smiling despite yourself. You twirl noodles around your fork to busy your fidgeting hand. Your sheepish gaze flits from the half-empty plate to the beautiful boy in front of you. “I think you’re starting to ruin everyone else for me, Stevie…”

His chest sparkles with a warmer feeling. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “That was kinda the plan here, babe.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods and folds his arms over the white-clothed table. He grins wide and leans in close. His cinnamon eyes sparkle with a mixture of adoration and mischief. “You fell right into my trap.”

You smile back at him, so happy that you did.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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corroded-hellfire · 8 months

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As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect.

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age.

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things.

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats.

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car.

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers.

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie.

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth.

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly.

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild.

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions.

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together.

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you.

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up.

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes.

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head.

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here.

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly.

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster.

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it.

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag.

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong,

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets.

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do.

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks.

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine.

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts.

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you.

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that.

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning.

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness.

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers.

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead.

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged.

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone.

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man.

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!”

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.”

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup.

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie.

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar.

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place.

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out.

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care.

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night.

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest.

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide.

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile.

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here.

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage.

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom.

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready.

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night.

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate.

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him.

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders.

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap.

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her.

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows.

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you.

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly.

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief.

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder.

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name.

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement.

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch.

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment.

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you.

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish.

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else.

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could.

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.”

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak.

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well.

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle.

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence.

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you. Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.”

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest.

“Naps first,” you agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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cordeliawhohung · 7 months

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the mafia boys taking their girls shopping for lingerie!!

(shy!reader getting flustered by everything meanwhile mafia!simon is just thinking about how gorgeous she’ll look 🫣🤭)

oh goodness the poor girl would be so flustered!

i'm sure at first it started out innocent. you needed a new bra after the strap on your favorite one went haywire, that was it! it wasn't your fault that the sluttiest lingerie you had ever seen in your entire life was on display in the store! and at first it was fine. Simon just followed you around as you perused your simple bras, but he just couldn't keep his eyes off the teddys. there's a baby pink one that catches his eyes at first, something frilly with bows, but it's the black, lacy one that really catches his attention.

when he points it out, you tell him that you're fine with just getting a few sets of bras, you don't need anything fancy, and he hears none of it. he's picking out several styles just to see what you end up liking better, totally guesstimates your size because he flustered you and you won't give it to him. of course he pays for it all, too, and that shit is not cheap. like several hundred dollars worth of lingerie for you ): but god he cannot stop thinking about what you'd look like wearing it. he just knows the lace and straps will complement your body perfectly, ugh. this all is definitely what happens before this drabble here lmao

with Price, i feel like it's a lot easier because you two know one another just too damn well. honestly, half the time he buys you lingerie without you even there just because he knows your size and style preferences so well, so it's not uncommon for you to come home to something new laid out on the bed for you. you've learned he's really partial to red. like that classic, bright red. it really gets him going.

every now and then he'll actually take you out shopping for it though, and believe it or not you're the menace in this situation. through some way or another, you've learned that crotchless panties are his favorite, and as you're looking through them you mutter the most risque filth to him. then you've got your poor husband all hot and bothered in the middle of a lingerie store and you take your time. do not be surprised when the two of you get home and he doesn't even wait for you to try on the items he bought you before fucking you, the poor man waited long enough.

when it comes to Johnny, it's a little different. okay, a lot different, because the first time you let him take you shopping for lingerie is when you're forcing him to apologize. not for anything nefarious, he just owes you after decimating your favorite lingerie. when you had worn it to surprise him the night before, you hadn't expected him to react like a wild dog. he had all but torn the lace to shreds in order to get to your cunt, and when you tried to tell him how expensive that set was, he shut up your complaints by bullying his cock into you ):

so he quite literally pays for it the next day, but he doesn't mind. he still isn't sorry about ruining the first pair, and really, taking him shopping only gives him more ideas about how he could ruin more pairs. he likes the sheer babydoll sets, and buys you at least three different versions of them. when the two of you leave the store, you've basically come to an agreement that he's supposed to leave one specific pair of your choosing in tact, but since he bought the other ones he can tear them up to his hearts content next time you decide to surprise him.

with gaz it's a little different just because your relationship together is not at all normal. some sort of strange enemies, yet still friends, yet still not makes it a little difficult for him to buy you lingerie, let alone take you with him as he buys you some. but lets say for the sake of our hearts the two of you are actually together and you're not being a brat about it lmao

this man loves silk. i just know it. silk anything. he likes the texture, he likes how shiny it is, he likes the way it falls around your body, he loves all of it. especially slips. a mini slip with a little slit in the side trimmed with lace? god if you wear that around him he's going to hike up the skirt and fuck you, i don't make the rules and neither does he, it's just some primal urge that overwhelms him. like imagine you're getting ready for bed in the bathroom and you're wearing a cute little slip and the lights are dimmed because it's late and you just watch as he approaches behind you. and this man is patient. sure he's got his hands resting on your hips as you brush your hair or wash your face or something, but he's gonna wait for you to finish your routine before dragging you off to bed. (or maybe he just fucks you over the bathroom counter, who knows, certainly not him).

i got a little carried away but enjoy these thots 👍

#mafia!141 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #cod smut #f!reader

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gordopickett · 2 months

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I can't stand how cute Mikey is. 🥰🧸😍 It kills me daily.

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yopossum · 1 month

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Sweet Dee

a Dieter Bravo oneshot

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Dieter x gn!Reader

Rating: E 🔥💖

Warnings: 18+ only! Submissive Dieter, v gentle domming for the good of mankind, hair-pulling, lovely soft bodied bub, pet names, affirmations and positive reinforcement, “good boy” 🫠, naked D straddling his clothed partner’s lap, grinding, unwrapped PIV, Boy Whimpering™️, brief non-detailed drug use reference, immediate (not premature, just in time) ejaculation and ensuing fluids, bangable men being vulnerable and taking their mental wellbeing seriously kink, no betas or edits just vibes

———————————————————————

“Hnnghhhhh.”

Dieter moaned as you twisted your fingers through his wild hair and yanked. You pulled back on the brown and silver waves until his big brown glazed-over kicked-puppy eyes met yours, his plush pink lips drooping novocaine open.

“Say it.”

His brain was fuzz. Staticky dryer lint. Candy floss. The fluff inside a teddy bear. His throat was spit thick and he tried to obey but his words caught in a harsh gurgle. He coughed wetly, his eyebrows upturned and saddled in silent plea.

“Try again baby, you can do it,” you purred, loosing your hand from his curls to run it over his strong scruffed jaw. The other sat at the crease of his bare thigh where he sat shivering, straddled on your lap. You pressed your thumb delicately into the plump flesh of it, like you would a peanut butter cookie. A sweet, nutty thing. A confection that meant comfort, home, a warm hug you could swallow and hold in your belly.

Dieter cleared his throat and took a deep, quivering inhale, his body rippling with it. A penny in a wishing well.

“I…” he rasped softly, gravel through mucus. “…I matter.”

You patted his flank gently in confirmation. “That’s right, baby. You do.” Leaning forward to nuzzle at his neck, you hummed against his throat, “What else?”

He gulped, and you traced the slide of his Adam’s apple with the tip of your tongue. Dieter whimpered. “I’m w-worthy.”

“Mhmm,” you buzzed, open mouth pressed to his feverish skin, and gave a slight pinch to the round underside of his tummy, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

His voice grew stronger, less wavering in his delivery. “I’m good,” Dieter recited, and it didn’t feel rote. It felt like his heart had budded wings that wriggled for freedom under the surface of beating gristle.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, letting your hands rest on the pillowy swell of his ass as you pulled him forward, scooting his hips flush to yours. He rocked against you involuntarily, his rigid, desperate cock nudging your stomach and dragging a shimmery smear of precome across your (his) t-shirt.

“Not yet, sweetness. Almost there. You are good. You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

Dieter’s eyelids fluttered closed, his dark lashes fanning over elegant cheekbones, and he huffed out a tiny whine through his nose before nodding vigorously.

You kissed his forehead, the strong ridge of his brow, the apple of each rounded rosy cheek, the marble-chiseled bridge of his aquiline nose, the dip of his philtrum. You hovered there, warm wet breaths passed like secrets between your mouths.

“And the last one, Dieter?”

And he swore you didn’t speak it out loud but somehow conjured it into being. He felt your voice curl into his chest like a velvet ribbon, knitting all the broken bloody bits together and tying them up with a bow, like a gift. An offering.

He opened his eyes to see you already staring into him, warm and strong and unwavering and so damn certain, and he felt brave enough to answer, brave enough to say it with conviction.

“I am loved.”

“You are loved,” you smiled, beatific as you pressed your lips to his, slow and so, so tender. “You are loved beyond measure, beautiful boy,” you murmured between lazy slips of tongues.

Dieter folded his arms around you, pressing his sweat-damp chest to the cool cotton of your shirt. The fat head of his cock caught on its hem and he hissed and jumped in your lap at the sensitivity. You chuckled and pulled his face alongside yours, mouth to the small folded antihelix of his ear that you found so endearing.

“And have you learned your lesson?” you husked, words hot with promise. You rolled your hips in a figure eight, infinite, underneath him, the friction from the skin of your thighs tugging at his sac and making Dieter delirious. His purpled tip swelled, dripped from his slit down to the briar of hair at the crux of his legs.

“Yes,” Dieter wheezed, voice taut with effort. “No more bad self talk. I promise. Just needed…” he gritted out through clenched teeth, starting to feel himself come unglued. “…just needed to be reminded.”

You released your hold on him and pulled his (your) t-shirt up over your head, let his face fall into your chest like a drowning man dives into the sand of the shore. “And if you forget,” you lilted into the silky mess of his hair, “I’m right here to help you remember.”

“Mm, and you’re a very effective teacher,” Dieter chuckled tightly, pressing a kiss to your breastbone. “Thorough, strict, fair,” he muttered. He was starting to ramble, no blood left in his head, going dizzy with restraint and need and affection.

Pressing your palms to his broad shoulders, you nudged him back out of his straddle and off your lap. Dieter fell into a kneel at your feet and watched, awestruck, as you shimmied your underwear down over your hips. His thick fingers hooked the band of them and pulled them the rest of the way off your legs, flung them across the room where they landed atop the haphazard pile of the ratty robe and pajama pants you’d relieved him of earlier.

“Now lie back, pretty,” you cooed, tipping Dieter to the floor with pointed toes. He groaned, licked at the arch of your foot as he reclined, eyes shutting automatically like a porcelain doll. When he felt your presence above him, every nerve of his body sizzled.

He knew he wouldn’t last, he never did when it was like this, and you never minded. You relished it, even. “Positive reinforcement, babe,” you’d told him the first time, reminded him since. “Those feel-good chemicals are your brain’s reward when you say all those wonderful things about yourself. Makes the neural pathways strong.” You knew he loved crazy brain science. You knew everything about him. You knew him. “Plus,” you’d added, “you deserve to feel good.”

When you lowered onto his length, sliding him deep inside the hot slick core of you until your cunt wrapped snug at his root, Dieter was done for. He had scarcely thrust before his climax ripped through him like a summer storm, crackled down his spine as his balls tightened up and every muscle went rigid like he’d been electrocuted. He erupted deep inside your ardent walls while lightning sparked behind his eyelids, better than any high, all the drugs, every single fix.

He vibrated as he came down, mouth tingling like he’d sucked on a battery, the soft spread of his belly jiggling with every heaving gasp. Dieter shuddered as his soft cock slipped spent from your clutch, your mingled come running out and down over him in thin shimmery streams, precious opal veins.

He mattered. He was worthy. He was good. He was loved. You made sure he heard it, demanded he repeat it. And when you folded over his salt-sticky chest and wrapped around him like a favorite blanket, all woven through with the sweetest dreams, he really, really believed it.

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Tags for some Dieter moots (Dooters?)

@sp00kymulderr @mothandpidgeon @schnarfer @bitchesuntitled @thesluttylittleknee @oonajaeadira @valeeeez @absurdthirst @ozarkthedog @perotovar @whocaresstillthelouvre @beefrobeefcal @oliveksmoked @crowandmousewritingco @covetyou @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @for-a-longlongtime @moonlitbirdie @readingiskeepingmegoing @inept-the-magnificent @gasolinerainbowpuddles @toomanytookas @sin-djarin @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @quinnnfabrgay-writes @prolix-yuy @nerdieforpedro @sizzlingcloudmentality @wannab-urs @magpiepills

#yopossum #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter x reader #dieter x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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