nivisdreaming - Tumblr blog

[nivisdreaming]

Eddie gets his ear pierced

“Just hold my hand, baby.”

Eddie looks up at you with wide doe eyes. His mouth is dry and he’s no longer able to play it cool, sitting in the small stuffy room at the piercing shop. 

Just hours earlier, he was all talk, saying it was no big deal and that he could get a piercing and that he “probably wouldn't even feel it.” Now it was his time to shine.

As soon as saw the needle, however, he no longer felt so tough.

“Baby,” you try and comfort him, “I promise it’s not bad. Plus it’s so quick, it’ll be over before you know it.” You smile, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I don't know, baby, maybe it wouldn't look so good on me..” 

“Baby, if you don't want to do it anymore, that's completely ok. You don’t have to.”

“I do, I just…I’m nervous now that I’m here.” he admits.

“That's ok, I was nervous too, but it really doesn’t feel too bad. I got mine when I was little and I was fine.” You speak softly to him. “Plus, like you said earlier, you’ve got all these tattoos, why wouldn’t you be able to handle it?”

“I know but…it’s different.”

“You want the little teddy bear to hold onto?” You tease.

“No.” he pouts, you can't help but love him even more. 

“I'm only kidding, baby. Just remember, it's only your ear. Imagine getting it on your nose…or your nipple! This’ll be a piece of cake.” 

“Yeah I know…” He sighs, “I’m still scared..” he looks down at his free hand and fiddles with his rings. 

“Honey, we don’t have to do this. I know you really wanted it, but it doesn’t help to work yourself up..we can always do it another time.” You move some hair from his face and kiss his cheek. 

He lets out a long breath as you begin to rub up and down his arm. 

“No, I’ll do it now, we’re already here..can I have that please?” he asks, motioning to the stuffed bear on the counter. 

“Mhm,” you grab the bear and place it on his lap, he grabs onto it and you smile, admiring how adorable your “big intimidating metalhead boyfriend” is. 

“You’re gonna do just fine baby, I promise. And you can squeeze my hand as tight as you want.”

“Thank you baby.” He grabs your hand again, bracing himself for what’s next. 

You summon the piercing artist back into the room, and Eddie shuts his eyes. Following their instruction to breathe, he feels the clamp on his earlobe and tenses up, squeezing your hand.

“You got this, babe.” You whisper into his ear as he hears the countdown.

And just like that - it was over. 

“Alright, you wanna check it out?” asks the piercer. 

“Wait, that was it?”

“Yeah, the clamps really the worst part.” 

“I told you baby,” you smile, “I knew you could do it. And you look so handsome, come look.” 

He gets up to look at the new addition in the mirror, a small stud that suited him just right.

“Ah, hell yeah, that’s metal! Look, babe” he grins, proud of his accomplishment, 

“I know baby, it looks good on you.” You smile.

He’s given instructions for aftercare and you both head out, ready for your next adventure.

“Tell no one about the bear. It didn’t happen.” he wags a finger at you.

“Whatever you say, baby. Oh look, they have lollipops. Want one?” You goad.

“What am I, five? … What flavors do they have?”  

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 4: Thigh Riding - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

WC: 1k

CW: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, light degradation, spanking, dry humping, thigh riding, marking, biting, nippleplay, praise, excessive use of petnames

Miguel O’Hara is a busy man. He practically runs the Spider Society on his own for god sake, he’s got a lot on his plate. He wishes it could all be missions and adventure, but a grueling portion of it is paperwork. Boring old paperwork that takes up too much of his time and attention, especially for your liking.

It’s not odd for you to creep into his home office long after dark, attempting to lure him to bed, only to find him hunched over his desk and buried in spreadsheets and reports. That’s exactly where you find him tonight, face lit by his computer screen as he endlessly scrolls through a document.

You sneak up behind him, hands creeping up his shoulders and rubbing gently, working the knots that lie beneath the skin. His eyes flit up to you for only a moment, grumbling a hello without pausing his reading. You frown at his negligence and lean forward to rest your chin atop your head. You clear your throat and mutter, “Are you almost finished here? It’s late.”

Miguel’s lips press into a thin line as he glances up at you. “I’m sorry, mi vida, but I’ve still got a couple of reports to check off my list.” His hand comes up to pat your hair for a second before returning to his computer mouse. You sigh heavily and debate your options. You could be good and go wait for him in your room. Or you could be bad and try to bother him into paying you attention now. One of these options seemed to provide a much more immediate reward, and you were nothing if not impatient.

You started slow, a small peck to his forehead and your arms creeping to wrap around his torso. He gave no response, assuming you were just feeling clingy from the late hour and lack of time together that day. Annoyed with his continued focus on his work, you worked your kisses down to his cheek, and then further down to the sensitive spot directly behind his ear. You nipped and licked, eliciting a shiver from him before he grabbed the wrist of your hand that had begun to wander lower on his waist. “Mi amor, exactly what is it you think you’re doing?” He growled as you kept up your assault, moving to mark up his neck with hickeys.

You pulled back for a moment to speak, “Winning your attention from the dumb paperwork, Miggy.” You shifted in front of him, throwing a leg over his lap and pressing into him in a straddle. You maintain no subtlety in grinding your hips forward, a delicious shock running up your spine as you find him already beginning to strain against his slacks. He groans as you shamelessly dry-hump him, allowing himself a few moments to get lost in the feeling of your warmth before grabbing ahold of your hips.

“You know better than to distract me from work, brat.” He lands a hard slap on your ass, chuckling at the whine it pulls from you. “You need me that badly, baby?” He presses his fingertips in harder, threatening to bruise until you give a pitiful nod and whimper. He wastes no time in shifting you to rest atop his right thigh, the bulky muscle pressing up into your core. You look up at him with confusion, and he gives you another spank. “You need to cum so bad? Then you can do it while you ride my thigh.”

You roll your hips instinctively, and the friction on your clit rips a pathetic moan from you. Miguel turns to continue his work and you give a drawn-out whine, but the feeling of humiliation only encourages your helpless grinding. You burrow your face into the crook of his neck, strings of mewls falling from your lips as he tenses and bounces his thigh underneath you, the only sign that he’s even aware of your desperate behavior.

Your legs begin to tremble as you barely hold on to your pleasure, the layers of fabric frustrating you, and the lack of attention from Miguel becoming more and more infuriating. In a moment of anger, you sink your teeth into his neck, chomping down on his pulse point to force his gaze onto you. It clearly works, as he threads a hand into the back of your hair and wrenches you off his neck to stare into predatory eyes.

“You little bitch. You’re really gonna be so damn impatient tonight?” He growls. His free hand locks on your hip, forcing you to resume your grinding with a newfound vigor as he pushes you into him. The increased pressure causes you to cry out, euphoria starting to coil in your stomach. You squirm in his grasp, yelps of his name forced from you as he moves to pinch at your nipples and eventually lowers his mouth to lathe his tongue over them.

Your eyes roll back into your skull, the band in your lower belly snapping without warning when Miguel gives one last tense of the muscle under you. Fireworks explode in your vision and throughout your body, forcing you forward to lean fully on the man holding you as you twitch and buck.

He soothes up and down your back until you are still, whispering soft praises in your ear while you recover. “Good girl, that’s my good girl. You did well, mi amor, I’m so proud of you,” he mutters. You peel your eyes open to look at him, and he shoots you a soft smile and places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Go back to our room, baby, I’ll be there in just a few minutes and then you can put that show on without anything covering you up, okay?”

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 3: Hate Sex - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.5k

CW: Roommates!AU, dom!Katsuki, sub!reader, hate sex, degradation, protectiveness, jealousy, marking, humiliation, oral sex (f!receiving), PiV, multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding, spitplay, squirting, very little aftercare

“What the fuck are you doing back so late?!” Growls Katsuki from his spot on the sofa as he glares daggers at you. You shoot a glance at your phone, confirming it’s past 2 in the morning.

“The fuck do you care? You’re my roommate, not my father or some shit, I’m not under curfew!” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

Katsuki stands and begins to approach you slowly. “Tell. Me. Where. You. Were.” His fists clench at his side. “Were you getting fucked by some loser in a bar bathroom? Giving a druggie a blowjob in a back alley? Showing off your tits to make the cash for rent because you know there’s no way in hell I’m covering for you again?” He backs you against the front door, red eyes piercing through you, “Tell me, princess.”

You have to admit, for a moment you are intimidated. And also a little aroused, based on the way your thighs squeeze together. But the second Bakugo calls you that nickname, your hate for him reappears at the forefront of your mind. “It’s none of your fucking business, dickhead. It’s my life, you have no claim over it!”

You snap at him, and he shows no apprehension towards snapping back, in the form of sinking his teeth in the pulse of your neck. The sudden pain has you gasping and squirming in his grasp, trying to escape how his tongue lathes over the aching mark. He finally pulls back and you have no hesitation in slapping him. “The fuck are you doing?!”

He growls, a devious smirk growing over his face at the sting of your palm. “I’m putting my claim over you, brat.” He dives back into your throat, sucking red and purple bruises into the skin until you are breathless and whimpering in his grasp.

He pulls up for air and you gaze into his blown-wide pupils, gently panting as your hips buck in search of friction. Katsuki groans as you finally find purchase grinding your clothed clit on the bulge of his sweats. “Princess, if you don’t want this you have to tell me now. Otherwise, I’m going to tear you apart tonight. Back out now, or you’re gonna be getting much more action than that pitiful little vibrator you use has been giving you every night,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. You plea back, wasting no time begging him to ruin you as your continually grinding as the band in your stomach pulling taunt already.

He easily lifts you with your legs wrapped around his waist and carries you to his bedroom. He drops you unceremoniously on the bed and tugs the tight skirt you wear off. He glowers at your clothed crotch, “Desperate slut. You wore these panties because you were hoping to get fucked tonight, didn’t ya?” He lands a strike right over your clit, forcing a pained howl out of you. “Such a pain in my ass, going out every night trying to get railed, only to come back disappointed and turning to some worthless plastic to get you off instead. You’re just never satisfied, are you princess? No matter how much I hear you moan through the walls, you never seem to be truly finished. It’s pathetic.”

He hooks a finger in the gusset of your thong and tugs, ripping them off you. You slap at his hand in protest with a disapproving whine, but he uses it as his chance to thread your fingers into his hair before diving headfirst into your pussy. You moan in surprise as he slurps the slick that leaks from your entrance.

His tongue wastes no time in beginning to explore, licking up and down both sides of your inner lips, biting marks on your thighs, spitting on your clit, and sucking it until you’re writhing against the strong arms that he uses to pin you down.

You tug endlessly on his locks, whining with tears pin-pricking your eyes. “Kat! Katsuki! P-please, I’m close, please!” You whine. You swear you feel him snicker into your cunt before he bites down on your clit, embarrassingly sending you over the edge with a scream. Waves of pleasure roll over you as he holds down your squirming hips and laps up your release as it spills from you.

You’re unsure how long he keeps you there, milking every drop of your orgasm, before your hand falls limp from his head and he finally allows you a moment of reprieve while he moves upward to pull off your top and bra, followed by his own layers of clothing. He leans over you, breath warm over your face as he seemingly stares at your lips like he’s debating something. Impatient, you’re the one to surge forward and connect your lips to his, swallowing his air and shoving your tongue into his mouth without waiting to set a pace. Katsuki, recovered from the startle of you initiating the kiss, quickly reclaims dominance with a simple hand wrapped around your throat, not yet applying pressure.

His other hand sneaks down to rub circles over your clit, sending stars swirling in your vision due to the sensitivity of your last orgasm. You moan and whine into his mouth, giving him the chance to use his tongue to explore yours as he switches from your clit to stroking his dick in preparation. His face pulls away a few inches and he taps his tip against your clit, laughing at the way you jolt. “Beg for it, baby, beg me to fuck you,” he coos.

You pant back at him, strings of meaningless babble falling from you as you struggle to find words through the fog of your mind. He teases you by pressing against your open and nudging just a half inch into you before pulling out, sending a tear falling down your cheek at his bullying.

“‘Suki, s-suki, no tease, please! P-please! Please sir, I need, I n-need cock! Need your cock! Do anything, please!” You choke out a sob of relief when he finally pushes further into you, splitting you open on his width. The pain sends electric shocks through your spine and more tears freefall from your eyes. He hits the back of your walls, tip pressed right up into your spongy spot, and everything crumbles around you as you start to come around him.

Bakugo hisses when he feels you start to rhythmically contract around him, your second orgasm triggered just by him sliding his dick inside. He knows he should hold still until you calm down, but his selfish desire to wreck you wins out as he sets a slow but mean pace, slamming into you with each thrust.

He loves how you tremble under him, your body still unconsciously pushing back to meet every snap of his hips. “Made you cum twice and you’re still such a greedy slut,” He spits into your open mouth, “Do you need me to fill you up? Is getting bred what it’s gonna take to satisfy you, princess?”

You nod ferociously and it sparks a feral increase in the speed of his thrusts, both hands moving to pin your thighs on either side of your stomach and force you into a mating press. “Fuck, I can do that for you brat, I’ll fill you with every drop, just give me one more,” He angles his body downwards so the bottom of his happy trail grinds against your clit with every meeting of your bodies, “Come on my cock one more time princess, come while your roommate fucking breeds you, baby,” He nips over the bite mark on your neck from earlier, and everything inside you snaps. A gush of fluid flies out of you and splashes on his lower stomach as your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your jaw falls slack in a soundless scream.

Katsuki feels you clamp down on him, and the warm sensation of your squirt on his dick, and it sends him off the edge with you. He cums thick ropes with his cock buried inside you, his legs quivering with the force of his orgasm. He stays like that, savoring the way you milk his balls for all their worth as he kisses the tears from your face and you come back to him with a flutter of your eyelids. He stares into your watery eyes, gaze turned from the glare earlier to now pure adoration as he lands a final peck on your lips and slips out of you before laying by your side and nuzzling up close to you. He wraps his hold around your middle, resting his head in the curve of your neck with a content sigh and promptly falling asleep listening to your still-recovering heartbeat.

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 2: Oral Fixation - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

WC: ~750

CW: Dom!Eddie, sub!reader, PWP, oral sex (m!receiving), deepthroating, degradation, praise, implied subspace, cum swallowing, honorifics (master), slight overstimulation, oral fixation (obviously)

You come home from a long day, and all you want is something filling your mouth. You just need something to take the edge off, to help shut off your brain when it all just gets too much.

Thankfully, your boyfriend has the perfect remedy. You get home from a bad day, and he instantly knows. Today, you find him sitting on the couch with his notebook, scribbling away notes on a new campaign. The second you enter the room with a sigh he’s tapping his thigh to beckon you over.

Wordlessly you sink to your knees in front of him, falling into your routine effortlessly. He parts his thighs further for you to comfortably wedge your head between them. You place your cheek on his bulge, nuzzling it softly and giving a few soft laps through the fabric of his jeans before latching your lips around the soft curve of his balls. His impatient groan and the twitch of his hips give you all the instruction you need to undo his belt. You go to pull down his zipper, but he pauses you with a hand over yours.

“What have we talked about, baby? No hands without permission.” He pulls both of your hands down and clasps them behind your back before removing his jeans for you, leaving his boxers on. “Pull them off with your teeth, whore,” he growls as you begin to mouth at his throbbing erection.

You grip the waistband between your jaws and begin the agonizingly slow process of working them down his hips. Eddie does little to aid you, simply watching with a dark stare and minutely lifting his ass once you get far enough down.

Finally, you get his cock to spring free. Too impatient and hazy to bother getting his boxers the rest of the way off, you dive in head first, eagerly wrapping your lips around his tip and sliding the first half of him into your throat with a thrill. He groans at the sudden stimulation, cock twitching with the effort not to burst too fast as you start to work your head up and down his length.

He fills your mouth so gloriously. When you push down he hits the opening of your swallow and it shuts everything in your brain right off, leaviyou filled with TV static and euphoria. You force yourself to gag on him before lapping at his balls feverishly, reveling in the way they tense under your attention.

Eddie attempts to keep working on his campaign, he really does, but how is he supposed to when he’s got such a messy desperate girl choking on his dick like it’s preferable to air? It’s not long before he discards the notebook in favor of grasping the back of your hair and forcing your head down further, happy to help you satisfy your need to fill your mouth.

He almost whimpers when you suck hard on his sensitive head, “Fuck, you little slut,” he gives a rough thrust into your mouth, “Is this what you needed today? Just to be a toy with a filthy, fuckable mouth?” He holds you down with your nose pressed to his base, feeling you gag and sputter around his length. “That’s my good girl, choke on my thick cock some more and I’ll let you swallow my cum soon.”

The idea of making him cum down your throat fills you with enough excitement to make you moan around him as he bucks his hips against you, hitting the roof of your mouth with enough force to bruise. You fight the urge to push away to breathe, your need to please your boyfriend far overpowering your instincts. Eddie’s abs tense as he moans unrelentingly now, every tap of his balls against your chin driving him closer to the edge. You pry your fluttering eyelids open to stare up at him, and as your eyes meet his hips still, warmth floods your mouth. The taste has you moaning with him, hands finally coming up from behind you to grasp at the backs of his thighs and force him to stay inside while you drink your fill of his seed. You don’t pull away until he’s whining with overstimulation, “Okay, okay baby that’s enough, god fuck I know you like it but no more,” and pulling at your hair to remove you. You release him with a pop, a string of drool connecting his tip and you as you lick your lips for his remnants of him.

“Thank you for allowing me to use your cock, master.” You peer up at him with soft doe eyes, and his dick nearly twitches back to life.

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.1k

CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included

Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)

Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.

It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.

What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.

He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.

You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”

You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.

“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.

You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.

“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”

You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.

Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.

He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.

He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.

What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”

[nivisdreaming]

Steve waits for his girl <3 whether it be when they're walking and she stops to fix her shoes or button up her jacket, he normally stops her and does whatever she needs done for her, kneeling down in a cold wet puddle just to tie her laces, and he waits when she stops, his hand slightly pulled back by her, he waits for her after work, ready to drive her home and hear all about her day, excited just to kids her again and taste her chapstick in his lips after hours of missing her, he leans against his car, always enjoying seeing her face light up when she sees him and how she does a little run/walk to him, he waits up late to hear the call that she got home safe, or the one that asks him to come pick her up, he forces himself to stay up, the phone right beside him, waiting for her call, he doesn't mind that she's indecisive, he waits for her to find the dress that's just right, to pick the exact ice cream she wants, he doesn't see the point in rushing her when he's so content just watching her face as she thinks to herself about whatever decision it is she has to make, he likes waiting for her, being to one ready for any need or want she could dream of, he likes being there for her, he likes when people call him her boyfriend, it makes his cheeks burn, he waited for that too, for the right time, to make her his <3

[nivisdreaming]

Thinking about Steve who’s not used to being adored <3 He's just used time being the one more in love in the relationship. It’s just normal for him at this point to want more, more than just sex or just dates, for him to want to fall madly in love with one person, no one he dates wants that, he’s always too much, so quick to shower people in his affection, so quick to jump right in that when she comes along he’s a mess because this pretty sweet girl not only likes him but seems to care about him, she listens when he talks and remembers the little things about him, she gets flustered when he asks for another date, like his feelings for her aren't as clear as daylight, and his sweet girl laughs at his jokes (even the bad ones), she plays with his foot under the table, she doesn’t say him bringing flowers is too much, instead she makes a point to put them in the nicest vase she owns, right on her window seal so everytime he goes to pick her up he can see them, until they die and he gets her new ones.

He's with the softest girl who calls him, she never pretends to miss his calls or tells him that she’s too busy to talk right now, they sit for hours on the phone, just listening to each other, and she doesn’t pull away when he holds her hand, when they're walking through town she cuddles up to his side, not for one second caring about anyone else but her Steve and he is hers, because she adores him, she wants him in every sense of the word, she trusts him, tells him things, she makes plans with him and she falls just as quickly as he does, and it’s all so head spinning for Steve, to be loved like this, how he’s loved for so long, it makes his chest tighten when she says his name, his heart quicken when she kisses him, and he feels safe knowing that everytime he says he loves her, she says she loves him more <3

[nivisdreaming]

steve is the best with you. always. he always makes sure that you feel comfortable around his big gang of friends, even though they all love you, sometimes is a little overwhelming. so you swiftly excuse yourself to steves room, lying on the bed with your shoes off. curling into a ball with his duvet. it smells like him, like it should. a soft hint of baby soap (the regulars are too harsh on his skin) and musky vanilla. you smile clutching the duvet. steve is downstairs laughing about something eddie said. you love when he is happy and careless, drinking beer and making you cute vodka cocktails. with a silly smile and entombed by his smell, you fall asleep. steve comes to check on you a while later, to see if you want something or company or nothing. when he spots you on his bed, steve melts. he gently puts a pillow under your head, with a small hum of protest from you. he takes his shoes off, his sweater and belt too, before molding his body against yours, pulling on another blanket for him. is automatic, the way you turn to face him, rubbing your cheeks on his chest, sighing softly. he kisses your forehead and you finish wrapping yourself on him. steve chuckles lightly, trying to tilt your chin so he can kiss you. frowning, you keep you head tucked against his chest, always a little stubborn. steve smiles and end up leaving a crown of kisses on your hair, before he too falls asleep with a silly smile and entombed by your arms.

[nivisdreaming]

I would love the reader flinching during a fight blurb (I think u did it with James and Steve) but with eddie! Only if u want of course

thank u for ur request, hope this is okay, 1k fem!reader

cw mentioned past abuse/abusive situation, please read with care!

Eddie doesn't do anything to provoke your reaction, obviously, and if he did it would've been accidentally. He only raises his voice and puts down his keys too hard at the same time on the table, barely looking at you as the argument reaches a crescendo. 

The sound catches you off guard. Your arms leap in toward your chest and your head turns to the side, defending yourself from a blow that would never come from him. Nausea floods your system, and no sooner have you flinched than you're covering your mouth to smother it. 

"Holy–" Eddie takes a step back initially, but he quickly closes the space between you to take your elbow. You force your arm out of his grip. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" 

"I thought you were gonna throw your keys at me," you start to explain, reaching for him. "I–"

"I would never do that." 

"I know," you say, blinking and straightening up your hunched back, "that's not– I know you wouldn't, but the noise…" 

"Sorry," he says tightly. 

You take a deep breath and feel embarrassment like a rushing wave hit you, ice cold, your hands covering your face for a moment to get air in right. You peek at him through your fingers. "No, I'm sorry," you say, "what were you saying?" 

"It really doesn't matter. Were you scared of me?" he asks, sounding terrified. 

"No. I mean– I mean," —his expression dampens further at your stammering— "I flinched because it was loud." 

"You said you thought I was going to throw my keys at you–" 

"Because I did think that. It was only for a second." 

"Somebody chucked shit at you enough you started expecting it?" Eddie asks, his terror melded into something much worse. He frowns at you, an imploring pinch to his eyebrows as he rubs your upper arm. 

"Eddie, I don't wanna talk about it." 

"You don't?" he asks. 

"Why would I want to talk about that? It's so fucking embarrassing." 

Eddie takes your arms into both hands gently. "Pause on our fight. Or forget it." He ducks his head to meet your eyes, his lashes like half diamonds, long and dark and emphasising the browned honey colour of his irises. "It's not embarrassing. It's not embarrassing. I'm sorry it felt like I could throw them at you, but I wouldn't." 

"I know." You sound more annoyed than he deserves. 

"Yeah?" he asks gently. 

You try to calm down. Chill out. "I know you wouldn't. It wasn't like that, it's just 'cos we don't fight and it was instinctive. Like a yawn." 

Heartbreak blossoms on his face. You hate it at first, thinking he feels sorry for you, but then things slow. Your heart rate, your adrenaline. For the first time since you started arguing a few minutes ago, breath comes easily to you. Eddie waits for your cue, his hands sliding down to take a loose hold on your fingers. 

It shouldn't be instinctive to expect pain during a verbal disagreement. His face says as much.

"I swear, sweetheart, I wouldn't," he murmurs. 

You start to cry when you realise you believe him. Of course you know he wouldn't, but you could've said that before about someone else. And he's asking you if you wanna talk about it like you should, and you say you don't but of course you do —you want him to tell you it'll never happen again. That it was undeserved. 

Eddie's rough around the edges but his hands are always nice. He sews your fingers between his and squeezes weakly. 

"Somebody threw stuff at you?" he asks, eyes darting down your cheek, following a heavy tear.

"It's okay," you say. 

"I'm supposed to be telling you that. Shit, c'mere." He pulls you in for a hug. "This is okay, right? I don't wanna make you feel worse." 

"It's fine." You sniffle into his shoulder. "It's fine, I don't know why I'm upset." 

"I thought you were gonna throw up, baby. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I shouldn't have started shouting. I wouldn't have. If I knew, I wouldn't have. I shouldn't have." 

You cling tighter. 

"Sorry," he says, kissing your forehead, his voice all closed up like he's upset. 

You shudder as you inhale, your body's attempt at regulating, and press your nose into his neck until it hurts. If it hurts him, he doesn't say, but you readjust in case it does. 

"What happened?" Eddie asks. 

"It's shitty, Eds. You don't wanna hear it." 

"Yeah, I do. Anything that happened to you that warrants that sort of reaction is something I want to know about, not just 'cos I have tires I need to slash–" He audibly winces. "Or, like, an angry letter to write." 

"You can slash tires. It's not like that, I don't think you're violent, baby." 

"Good. I wanna know what made you feel that way because that's stuff that happened to you, and I love you. I don't want you carrying that by yourself. And," —he drops his cheek toward his shoulder, smiling At you tentatively— "I don't ever wanna make you flinch again." 

"It's not your fault." 

"It's not yours, either. None of that shit was your fault." 

Eddie rubs your back until it feels weird, your skin almost raw under the constant back and forth, but it's a steadying touch that you don't want to go without. You tell him the gist of things without crying anymore, and if you need to do it with your eyes pressed to his shoulder he doesn't say a word. 

He has some assurances to make you. How loved you are. How the last thing in the world you deserved was a raised hand. You've never heard him speak that sincerely for that long, but you need every word. When you think he might get sick of comforting you, he props you on the couch. 

"Tell me if I'm being too much," he says, wrapping you up in a one-sided hug. 

You feel safe and sound under his arm, pressing a kiss to a blown out tattoo. "Not too much," you murmur. 

Eddie pulls your head to his lips for a peck nestled lovingly beside your eyebrow. 

[nivisdreaming]

𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you get upset when eddie's friends think you're clingy. he sets you straight with some unbridled affection. requested here. fem!reader, 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The diner is bustling with life and smells alike, people in their summer jackets eager to sit down and dig into a plate of greasy, fatty meats. You're just as excited, your fingers curled into Eddie's sleeve and following his lead as he weaves between a gaggle of kids playing between the bar and the booths. 

"Sorry, sir," a young girl says to him, springing out of his path. 

"That's okay," he says, leaning back to squint at you curiously, "Do I look like a sir?" he asks you.

Pale faced, dark-haired, the remnants of last night's eyeliner clinging to his bottom lashes, you can't say you'd look at Eddie and think, Sir. Pretty boy extraordinaire with a rather inviting smile, absolutely. 

"I think so, sir," you say. 

Eddie laughs at you, pressing a hand behind your shoulders to move you along. His friend Gareth waves from a booth tucked in a corner under a white sconce. Jamison sits to his left, and Margaret to his right. You feel a little skip in your pulse at the sight —they intimidate you, and you want desperately for them to like you, only you never know what to say. 

"Hey," Eddie says as you approach the booth. He pushes you gently to encourage you into the seat first. "How's it going? Did we order?" 

"We were waiting for you. They said we have to go up to the bar when we're ready."

"We're late, I get it. Where's Jeff?" 

"He went to the bathroom, like, ten minutes ago," Jamison says with a sigh, climbing to his feet. "I'll go see if he's alright." 

"He's fine. Maggie, are you coming to order?" Gareth says, getting up with him. 

"Yes, finally!" she says. 

The relative chaos of your arrival has you hesitating in your seat. Margaret left her purse and her jacket on the table, and Jamison his keys. 

"You okay to stay here while I order?" Eddie asks. 

You'd much prefer Eddie order for you, but you don't want to be sitting here by yourself if Jamison and Jeff come back before him. You won't know what to say. It won't be their fault. You'll make things awkward for everyone. 

You stand up again, shedding your jacket as you do. No one's gonna steal anyone's stuff, the bar is too close. "I'll come with you."

Eddie slots your fingers together easily, grinning, "Lucky me." 

His friends order first and return to the booth soon after. You and Eddie get cut by a cranky looking old lady but neither of you say anything, nowhere to be and no reason to mind. He tells you about the guitar he's been repairing at work and you listen adoringly, in love with the shape of his lips and how he says every word. He's a great storyteller. 

A new friend appears once you've ordered. 

"Hey, Eddie!" one of the waiters says, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and fries in hand. "Man, I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. The string on my daughter's guitar flew off, nearly blinded her in the process, would you be able to fix that for me? I'll pay you for your time." 

Eddie waves it off. "It'll only take five minutes, you can drop by whenever I'm home. Why do they keep splitting like that, is she messing with the pegs?" 

"She definitely is. Can I get your number? Macey washed my pants without emptying the pockets."

There's a mad scramble for a pen. You have one in your jacket because Eddie's always looking for one, but your jacket is back in the booth. You promise to make a hasty return and set off for it, glad to see Jeff's alright, standing at the table likely waiting for you and Eddie to get back rather than move your things. You like Jeff most out of everyone. With the whole group collected you know he won't drag you into conversation. 

"She's a bit… much," Gareth's saying.

"How can she be a bit much? She doesn't say a lot," Maggie says. 

You frown. You're the only other she. 

"Not like that, just– the touching and stuff. She's always grabbing onto him like a toddler. I don't think I could stand it." 

"You don't have to stand it," Jeff says. "She's Eddie's girl." 

"Clearly." 

"Gareth, when was the last time you got laid?" Maggie asks, flicking a hair tie at him, to his annoyance. "You're being bitter. They fucking love each other, man, it's nice." 

"It is a little tiny bit too much sometimes," Jamison says.

You wince. You know it's a matter of seconds before one of them turns to see you standing there. Is it worse to turn around or to approach? 

You walk up to the table just as Gareth says, "Yes! Thank you man, she's too–" 

He cuts off when he sees you with a cough.

"Who?" you ask, full well knowing it's you. Honestly, you're shy but you still get mad, you kind of want him to own up and say it while you're there, and at the same time you're hoping against hope they'll lie. 

Thankfully, they pretend it was about someone else. 

"Nobody," Maggie says. 

"Some girl at the library," Jamison says. 

You lean past Jeff with as sunny an apology as you can manage to grab the pen from your jacket. "Eddie," you say by way of explanation, holding the pen up with a shrug. 

You walk away quicker than you should. It's obvious you've overheard. There's a thump and a, "Nice fucking job, loser." 

Eddie's deep in conversation as you offer the pen. He takes it without stopping, but he makes sure he kisses your cheek. 

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" you say. 

"I'll be right there, sweetheart." 

To get to the bathroom you have to walk past the booth again. With the hurt feeling pounding between your ears and what you suspect might be all eyes on you, you make for one of the two doors. The summer sun and the dry Hawkins heat hits you immediately, a second layering of smothering to wrap around the first. You walk around a rainbow chalk hopscotch and into the shade of the smoking shelter, hands at your collar, breathing hard. 

Don't cry, you think firmly. Don't cry. They'll know if you do and that's twice as embarrassing as walking out. Imagine how embarrassed Eddie will feel if you cause a scene.  

You sit on the little perch in the shelter and stare at the floor. There's nowhere to look that isn't stingingly bright, the sun in the white-blue sky glaring down on you and the sidewalk bleached a blinding ivory. You close your eyes against it. Your shoulders hunch in protectively. Your hands find their way to your face. 

Like a toddler, Gareth said. You press your fingertips into your eyes, fighting against the ache. Is that true? Are you childish in how much you rely on Eddie? You take his hand and his arm, you catch onto his clothes when you're worried, you step behind him when you're overwhelmed. 

"Shit," you whisper. 

The breeze washing over you does little to cool you down. You must sit there for a handful of minutes, worried and nauseous. 

"Hey," Eddie says gently. You flinch despite his best efforts not to startle you. 

He looks tall outlined by the sun. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"I just wanted some fresh air," you say. 

He raises his brows slightly. "That why Gareth just apologised to me?" 

You wince as he sits down. All of you wants to sag into his side, but a small voice tells you not to. You stay ramrod straight, hands pressed flat and clammy to your knees. 

Eddie gives your elbow a rub. His thumb digs into soft skin and the harder suggestion of cartilage and bone before sliding up. He uses touch often to convey silent reassurement. This seems to say, I don't know what happened, but I'm here. 

"I'm fine. We can go back inside," you say, attempting to fool him. 

"There's no rush." His voice tips to a low, rough register. He's keyed in to your upset, no doubt about it. "It's a nice day, babe." 

He gives you a minute. The small feathering of clouds skirts one edge of the horizon to the other, the shadow of the diner stretching tall as the sun lazes down. You push the worst of your feelings from your mind. It's easy to do with such an unshakeable support at your side, his fingers curling down to your forearm, vying for a hand to hold. 

"I heard your friends talking about me. It wasn't all nice," you confess. 

"Assholes." 

You glance at his face. He has a crease between his brows. 

"Well, mostly Gareth. He said that I… act like a kid. A toddler, that I'm too much, at least for him to stand. And don't get me wrong, Eds, I'm not thrilled that they were talking about me, but I guess I…" You take a short breath and look away from him. "I hate that it's true." 

"You can be mad when people talk shit. I'm mad," he says. "He said you're like a toddler?" He shuffles closer to you on the bench. "Babe, it's not true, okay? You're not too much. Fuck, we're here to hang out and they can't wait ten minutes to run their mouths–" 

"It wasn't like that, it was just Gareth." Gareth's always been the selfish friend. 

"He doesn't get a pass for saying something shitty 'cos he's always shitty. I brought you here," —you peek at him, recognising upset in his tone even when it's the barest inkling— "knowing you didn't really want to come because you get so nervous," —he sounds pained for you— "I fucking told him to leave you alone. I said we wouldn't come around if he didn't stop being a mood killer." 

You worry at your bottom lip. "Maybe that's kind of his point, Eds. You have to look out for me. You had to ask someone to be nice to me 'cos I can't handle it–" 

"You don't have to handle it. The people around you should be nice to you. This isn't high school, you don't have to put up with it, and I told him that." Eddie grabs your arm with the hand that isn't tangled in yours and turns you to face him. "I'm sorry," he says, almost a murmur, "I didn't invite you today to have you humiliated." 

You're feeling a little mortified by the passion of his feelings. He's mad at the wrong person, isn't he? "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who clings to you." 

"I want you to." Eddie holds your eyes, brown and big and imploring you to listen, the starts of his brows sewing together. "I'm sorry because it's not fair. And because Gareth was a dick to you. And for getting mad." He smiles at you ruefully. "I'm being a dick, too." 

"In what world?" 

Eddie leans in slowly, giving you enough time to close your eyes as his nose bumps into yours, encouraging your head up to allow for a kiss. He kisses twice, a third time, pulling away to rub your bottom lip. 

"Are you really upset?" he asks softly. 

You know whatever answer you give him is one he's okay with. 

"I feel so embarrassed," you say. "They knew that I overheard them. Now I feel like I'll be constantly worried about how much I'm touching you." 

"Well, that's their problem. That doesn't say shit about you," Eddie says, wrinkling his nose. 

"I'm really not too much?" you ask. He can likely hear how desperate you are for a kind answer, your throat burning with the effort it takes to stave off tears. 

"You've never been too much. I'm the too-much one. You wouldn't even hold my hand when we first started dating, you remember that? We'd go to the movies and you'd get so flustered when I bought your ticket." Eddie's arms wrap around your waist, the breeze ruffling his sweet curls and sending gusts of his smell your way. You're a goner, dropping your face into his shoulder. "Do you remember that?" he asks again, his face slipping down to yours as he hugs you close. "The first time we went to the Hawk together, I went first, and I don't know why you thought you'd have to buy your own ticket but you got all quiet when I got yours, too. I loved that. You know what I loved even more than that?" 

You smile, knowing he's going to say something lovely. "What?" you ask. 

"I loved how proud you were to sit down with me. You wouldn't hold my hand but you'd put your cheek on my shoulder just like this." 

Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your temple. "I love how much you want to be near me," he says. "It's not childish, is it? If being closer to me makes you feel better, there's nothing wrong with that. Gareth's just jealous 'cos he isn't getting laid." 

"That's what Maggie said." You laugh. 

"Maggie's a good one. She makes Gareth bearable, kind of." 

You feel the stretch of his back under your hands. Your head is pounding from the sudden rush of big emotions, your tongue dry and throat aching, but you don't have a lick of urgency to get up and go back in. 

"He's such a dick," you whisper. 

Eddie laughs, patting your back. "Such a fucking dick." 

"I can't help being a loser and wanting to hug you so much," you say. You're joking now, but it's true all the same. 

"I tempt the untemptable," he says agreeably.

You laugh and lift up a bit to hug him harder, your face pressing into his neck. 

"You're not a loser," he says more seriously. "You know that, right? What Gareth said, it's not okay, but there's no accounting for idiocy." Eddie sits back on the bench, taking your forearms into his hands for some more soft massaging. "He can think whatever he likes, I'm not the government, but he was wrong, and also it's rude and, again, super shitty of him to do that here. So with your blessing I'm gonna punch him in the face." 

"Nooooo," you murmur. 

"Very soft no. Taking it for a yes."

"Eddie, you can't hit Gareth."

"He should watch his mouth, then." 

You reach up for a second hug. You love that he prioritised how you felt, as well as how eager he is to stick up for you —how mad he is on your behalf. 

"He's trying to take this away from me," Eddie says, leaning back under your weight, arms crossing behind your spine. He looks up at you like you've stolen his breath, lips parted and teeth peeking out with his smile. 

"Do you really want to punch him?" you ask. You sound very fond.

"I hate that he made you feel bad about yourself. And he irritates me." 

"But…" 

Eddie hums like he's thinking for a moment. "No, I definitely still want to hit him." 

You tuck a curl away from his cheek tenderly. "Thanks for wanting to defend my honour, Eds," you say.

"I'm on your side through everything." He looks ridiculously pretty saying such a ridiculously lovely thing. "That's how we work, right? You're on my side too?" 

Your face flushes with heat. "Of course I am, baby." 

"Good. Unrelated to our previous conversation, how much money do you have, roughly? In case I need financial aid in the coming days." He drops his voice to a whisper, "How much even is bail lately?" 

You cup his cheek. "We can't afford it," you whisper back. 

"Typical." 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!♡

[nivisdreaming]

(hurt/comfort)

Eddie munson if you flinch during an argument? Fucking forget it, that man is holding back tears

He obviously would never actually lay a hand on you, he's like the least voilent person ever (exept in bed👀 but thats different, he'd never in hell actually hit you in the heat of an argument). It was an instinct, he was yelling at you, you flinched- it was subtle but noticable

He litterally just freezes and goes silent, not knowing what to say at first

"did you, I, Shit shit, fuck, you didn't think I was going to hit you, babe, please, I would never do that" atp he's trying and failing not to cry

when the tears start to fall you wrap your arms around him insantly, just standing there for a second, before you hear a faint whisper come out of his mouth

"You actually thought I would-" at this point he's sobbing

"I'm just like him, aren't I"

You spend the next hour just telling him how amazing he is and how stupid it was that you flinched- and trying to get him to understand that he's nothing like his father.

[nivisdreaming]

can i request grumpy gamer Eddie & sunshine reader who just wants to sit on his lap?

Fluffy goodness, maybe his friends who are playing too get really confused when he suddenly really soft and gooey when talking to his gf

i absolutely loved the gxs period fic!! It was so cute 🥺

thank you bby! 🧡

Eddie was losing. Badly. Eddie hated losing.

You’d watched him from his bed, his back to you as he sat on his chair, shoulders tensed, his comically large headphones smashing down his pretty curls. You couldn’t see his face, and you’d been flipping through one of his music magazines for the majority of the game tournament, but you knew he was pissed.

“God fucking damn it, Gareth! He was right there!” Eddie jammed his thumb into the controller, pressing buttons at random just to exert some of his frustration. “We’re losing to a bunch of kids, man, this is pathetic.”

There was a garbled response from Eddie’s headset, an indignant voice blurring with the distinct staticky glee of Dustin Henderson. “Su- it, Mu-son! Told you we cou- ick your a-”

Eddie didn’t get to reply because you’d pushed the magazine to the side, padding barefoot across the room until you could push at his chair and drop yourself into his lap. The boy blinked, feeling guilty that he’d almost forgotten you were there, too wrapped up in his game and annoyance. But you curled into him, bare legs folded up, feet tucked under his thighs. Your pyjamas were tiny things, soft shorts that were a happy, bright orange, your T-shirt an old thing of Eddie’s that you’d tie dyed in his front yard last summer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured and you could feel him relax underneath you. He forgot about his game, the headset, his mic. “M’sorry, been neglecting you, huh?”

You didn’t mind, not really. Eddie spent a lot of his time with you, and since Mike was visiting El in California for the month, and Jeff was at his grandmothers in Houston, they’d swapped their weekly Hellfire meetings for an online game night instead.

You just hadn’t expected Eddie to get so worked over a game where most players danced every time they shot someone in the head.

“Christ, Henderson! Are you doing the fucking running man over my corpse?”

“A little,” you said, pouting even though it was mostly for show. You liked the way Eddie’s frown smoothed out when he looked at you, how he dropped his controller in favour of running his warm palms over the tops of your thighs. You sighed, forlorn and dramatic. “You’re awfully grumpy.”

From the headset, you heard Dustin snort. “He is, isn’t he?”

Eddie scowled again, shoving the thing off his head and pulling you closer all in one motion. The game was still playing, a new round starting but Eddie’s played remained static.

“You should fix it,” he murmured, squeezing his arms around your middle as he pushed his face to your neck, grumbling playfully as he pretended to gnaw at it. “Need some lovin’ from my girl.”

You squeaked, pushing at his forehead when he didn’t relent, the faint scrape of stubble tickling your skin. “You do?” You were beaming, a bright, wide thing that Eddie swore could stop the world from spinning. “C’mere then.”

Eddie grinned back, the controller slipping from his knee to the floor as he pulled your over his lap, your thighs slipping and spreading over his. He gave your ass a little tap, humming happily, a million miles from the boy who was scowling and swearing at his computer screen five minutes ago.

“Kiss,” Eddie demanded, full lips puckered, eyes twinkling.

You smoothed your hands over his cheeks to oblige, holding him gently as you leaned in, both of you ignoring the sounds of protests and distant explosions from the mic at Eddie’s feet.

[nivisdreaming]

could I request eddie realizing that shy!reader has a bad home life and offering her to stay the night? definitely a hurt/comfort vibe?

thanks for ur request, anon! hope you like it!! tw for discussions about a not great home life (briefly mentioned)

Eddie didn’t want you to leave.

Eddie never wants you to leave, actually, but he knows how serious you are about bedtime.

Like clockwork, you get tired at 5 p.m. He’ll always make the same stupid joke when he notices you getting sluggish — “Would you like a pudding cup before you go to bed, grandma?”. By eight, you’re trying not to nod off entirely and, more often than not, you’re out of his trailer by 9:30. 

Your whole thing is that you want to be in bed by ten so you can wake up early for work without feeling like a total zombie.

He’ll ask if you want to sleep over, and you’ll say no like you always do. “I don’t have any pajamas,” you tell him, as if you can’t just borrow something of his. “And I don’t have my work clothes, and none of my shower stuff is here, and… It would just be a big, scrambled mess in the morning.”

And even though Eddie doesn’t exactly get it — your need for a stable routine — he never presses the issue. 

He does beg you to stay for about half an hour before you leave, though. Only when he’s absolutely certain he can’t change your mind does he walk you to your car. He doesn’t let you leave without sprinkling at least a hundred kisses to your face first.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” he’ll always singsong right after pressing a lingering kiss to your mouth. 

With his hands still cupping the sides of your face, you’ll nod. “Yes, Eds. I’m sure.”

“Fine…” he’ll concede with a dramatic huff. He always gives you one last kiss before you go, an absolute smacker to your lips that he accompanies with an audible mwah sound when he pulls away. “Call me when you get home? So I know you didn’t keel over on the way there?”

He doesn’t need to say ‘I love you’ for you to hear it in his words.

This night, however, is not like most ones.

Eddie swears you’re sick when you stop by the trailer later in the afternoon. You’re pallid and clammy and unusually quiet. You sprawl out on his bed, and you don’t want to talk about your day or listen to his tapes — you only want to cuddle.

“Can you just… Can you just hold me?” you ask him quietly.

“I can’t even believe you’re asking me that,” Eddie scoffs, already settling under the covers beside you. Your feet tangle together as his arm curls around your waist. He mumbles into your shoulder, “I’d be an absolute idiot to turn now free snuggles with the prettiest girl in Hawkins, wouldn’t I?”

He expects you to make a joke in return. Or, at the very least, laugh at him for saying snuggles. He doesn’t get any of that, though — not even an elbow to the ribs for trying to flirt with you. 

Heartbroken by the silence, Eddie holds you tighter.

The real problem comes at 9:30. 

You haven’t said more than twenty words to him. You haven’t left his bed, either. 

Eddie had only enough patience to lie with you for about an hour or so. He’d been watching you sleep when a campaign idea popped into his head. He only had the end goal in mind — save the fairy princess from the dark wizard holding her under his spell. He migrated quietly to his desk to write it down before the idea could leave his mind.

He checks on you a little after nine o’clock. He glances at you over his shoulder and finds you still sleeping, which is weird because you rarely nap when you’re over at his place. Usually, you’re too busy doing other things — both innocent and otherwise. And when you do nap, it’s normally no longer than an hour or more. You’re sleeping so soundly that Eddie’s frightened you didn’t sleep at all the night before.

Eddie puts a soft hand on your shoulder. You writhe with a soft grunt.

“Sorry,” he says, laughing at the scrunched look upon your tired features. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead over here.”

You roll onto your back and stretch your stiff limbs. “What time is it?” you rasp.

“Five past nine.”

You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

Eddie’s brows pinch in concern. “Did you sleep okay last night? You’re not usually this tired.”

You make a vague I don’t know sound. A sigh tumbles from your mouth as you rise, bones cracking in protest. Your eyes squeeze shut shortly after — like your head hurts or like the act of sitting up was too dizzying for you, Eddie can’t tell which. Now he’s worried you’re not eating well, either.

“I just feel a little drained, I guess,” you murmur.

Eddie brings the back of his hand to your forehead. He doesn’t know what constitutes a normal warmth or a sickly one, but he’s pretty sure this is what you’re supposed to do when someone you love is sick.

“Are you sure you feel okay?”

You muster a quiet laugh and swat him away with a weak hand. “Yes, Eds. For the hundredth time, I’m fine. There’s just… a lot on my plate right now.”

Eddie wants to ask what that means. The words sit on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t have the courage to say them. He’s scared to poke that wasp’s nest.

It takes you twenty minutes to leave.

At first, Eddie thinks you’re just tired. You are kind of moving like a zombie — walking sluggishly around his bedroom like your feet are made of bricks. You look around for the jeans you’d taken off earlier and pull them back on with shaky legs.

Then he realizes you’re stalling.

First, you need to use the bathroom. Then you lose your hair clip, which was already in your bag, but that leads to you reorganizing the whole damn thing. “I don’t wanna lose anything else,” you’d reasoned when he asked. He’s confused, but he doesn’t mind. It just gives him an excuse to be close to you for another couple minutes. 

Just when he’s about to walk you to your car, you turn back around with the excuse of making his bed.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” Eddie laughs from where he stands at the doorway.

“I know,” you mutter as you smooth out his sheets. “But I’m the one that slept in it. Don’t wanna leave it like a total mess.”

“Babe. You know I’m a slob. It was a total mess before you got here.”

You don’t listen to him. And you don’t leave until you’ve evened out the comforter and fluffed the pillows.

When he gets you to your car — hands on your cheeks to pull you in for a hundred kisses — he sees how sick you really look. You’re usually so pretty in the moonlight. And you’re pretty still, but your features of lost all their life. 

Your eyes are sad and glazed over, and your skin has lost its usual color. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. You look scared.

“I won’t blame you if you punch me for asking again, but… do you feel okay?”

You think for a moment. Your features crumble as you shake your head in his hands. 

Eddie’s heart drops. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. “I kinda feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Are you gonna throw up? Did you eat something weird— oh shit, was it that mac and cheese I made us last night?”

Any other time, his worrying might’ve made you laugh. You don’t have the strength for it now.

“No… I don’t think it’s that kinda sick…”

His brows pinch. “Then what kinda sick is it? You’re kinda freaking me out a little here, babe.”

When you lean against the driver’s side door, Eddie’s certain you’re gonna pass out. You’re totally pallid and sticky to the touch, hand to your stomach like you’re about to vomit. Eddie presses his hip into the car beside you — out of the line of fire just in case, but still close by.

“It’s like… when you’re about to go into a haunted house for the first time…” Your voice wavers as you try to explain a nearly indescribable feeling. You look over at him, but your eyes don’t quite meet. “Or, like… When you’re standing at the very edge of a cliff…”

Eddie manages a laugh. “Like you’re scared out of your mind?” he jokes.

Your stomach twists. You know he’s kidding, but that’s what this is — the distant sickly feeling that makes you want to hurl. You’re horrified.

Your gaze flits to the gravel as you nod.

For a moment, Eddie thinks you’re kidding. He was just joking around in the first place; he figures you’re just playing along to humor him. But then he hears your breath stutter when it gets caught in your throat, leaving you gasping for air like there’s not enough of it in the world.

He realizes then that you’re not sick like he thought. You’re terrified. Something’s got you so damn frightened that you’re body’s stuck in fight or flight mode.

“Wait. You’re scared?” he agonizes. He feels a bit like he might be sick, too.

You nod wordlessly.

“Did I… Did I do something?”

“No,” you choke out quickly, shaking your head so ardently that the world starts to spin. Your eyes squeeze shut again. “It’s not you…”

“Can you tell me what it is, at least? So I can make it better?”

“You can’t make it better,” you sniffle.

“Why not?”

You try to laugh. It sounds more like a sob. “‘Cause you can’t fix my family.”

“Oh, babe…” he coos quietly, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t care that you might be sick. You can puke all over him if you want. He just wants you to feel better.

You tuck your tear-stained cheek into his neck. Your hands grasp the fabric of his sweatshirt as he sways you back and forth.

“What happened?” he asks with his nose pressed into your temple. You smell like sleep and lemongrass and his cologne.

You shake your head against him. “Last night was just… bad. And this morning was worse, and… I don’t know. I’m just scared of what I’m going back to, you know?”

“Well, I don’t want you to go back if it’s got you this scared, babe,” he mumbles into your hair before kissing your forehead.

“I can’t just not go home.”

“Screw that,” Eddie argues. “You can stay here forever, you know that.”

“But Wayne—”

“Loves you. More than he loves me, probably. You’re sweet, and you clean up without anyone asking you to. He’d actually prefer it if you moved in, now that I think about it.”

You sniffle and pull back from him, scrunched-faced and puffy-eyed. You swipe the back of your hand along your nose. “I don’t know,” you waver.

“It doesn’t have to be forever if you don’t want it to be,” Eddie assures as he smooths his palms over your cheeks. He swipes a few tears away with his thumbs. “If you wanna stay for a couple days until it blows over, that’s okay… And if you decide youwant it to be longer than that, that’s okay, too. And we can get your stuff together. Does that sound better?”

You think for a moment, then nod. “I’m sorry if I… If I freaked you out… I didn’t really know what was going on.”

He manages a small smile down at you as he tilts his ear to his shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. I just didn’t know how to help you. That’s what scared me.”

“I’m okay now,” you promise. Your voice only trembles a little bit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll tell me if you start feeling sick again?”

You nod, silent and slow, like a child.

Despite the current circumstances, Eddie’s glad to lead you back to his bedroom. He doesn’t have to send you off with a hundred kisses before you leave. He doesn’t have to miss you either because he gets to hold you to his chest like a teddy bear.

Sufficiently exhausted after having your heart broken and put back together again, you drift off to sleep in Eddie’s arms. You could start calling this trailer home, you think to yourself just before fatigue swallows you whole. Eddie certainly already feels that way.

[nivisdreaming]

LOOK AT HIS POUTY LIL LIPS.ABSOLUTELY BEGGING TO BE KISSED!!

teasing miguel hehe! (fluff)

you come in, miguels most likely messing around with his gizmo. propping yourself on your tiptoes, two fingers hooking into the fabric of his suit you give him a lil smooch!

“¿para qué era eso, bonita? t: what was that for, pretty?” miguel asks, his voice a little raspy and his eyes dumbfounded. “you’re pouting.” you state, still propped on your tiptoes, holding his suit.

in response miguel’s hands land on your hips, picking you up and setting you on the desk, slotting between your legs with an even more pouty expression he grumbles. “i do not pout.” a laugh slips past your lips as you watch him get all defensive. pissing him off further you ruffle his hair. his hard-ass demeanour pleading not to crumble, especially not in the semi public.

“cariño. t: honey.” he hisses. replied with a single “whaaat?” and a giggle. its too late to save himself though. lyla in the doorway, already taking pictures of miguel (our big bad spiderman.) slotted between your legs and having his hair played with as he pouts like a baby.

“lyla.” was all miguel needed to hiss before lyla was already gone, taking her camera with her. that was gonna be blackmail for a while.

you try to do a coy apology, getting half way through your “sor-” before miguel stops you with a “don’t you start, pequeño demonio. t: you little devil.” making you giggle and pull him into another little kiss by his spider suit.

A/N, holy shit!! i came back this morning to see over 200 likes on my posts?! i actually love you all so much!! also was gonna ask, would you guys read stuff that i wrote about ghost (cod mw2)?? let me know haha because i have a few ideas >o<!!💝💝

[nivisdreaming]

Big and Affectionate Simon "Ghost" Riley

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, reunion, kissing, size difference, gift giving, public display of affection, hand holding, cuddles, kisses on the cheek, teasing, Reader being lifted up by Simon

A/N: Again with Simon, Miguel is great but I got to show my other big guy some love too.

Affectionate!Simon who grabs your hand no matter where you are at the time. It's one of the only times where he will forgo his gloves completely, favoring the feeling of your smaller hand in his, but holding onto him like you haven't done so in years, almost like you need a reminder of how much bigger he is.

Affectionate!Simon who waltzes through the door, big bag slung over his shoulders and holding out his art so he can hoist you up into a welcoming kiss. A smile passes between you two as you indulge in such soft intimacy after a while.

Affectionate!Simon who would love to kiss you all day but he needs to unpack, don't worry you can help him do it. Oh, whats that you found? A box? A necklace? How did that get there? Well since its here why doesn't he put it on you. Now when you tug on his tags he has something to tug back onto.

Affectionate!Simon who wraps himself around you, puttingan arm around you when you're out, so big and imtimidating looking from afar but with the biggest, softest smile in the world when it comes to you and you alone. He's not a puppy dog! He's dangerous okay, he means that.

Affectionate!Simon who pulls his face away when you kiss him only to smirk and unleash an attack of kisses all over your face. His hands are everywhere, pulling you close, pulling you up, carrying you, pinning you, anything to show you how much he loves you with his touch and kissed.

Affectionate!Simon who isn't that good with words, not around you, not... outside of the bedroom because he loves you so much and his words alone can never be enough to express such emotions. But he does like it when you're verbally affectionate, he tries to pick up on it from you, fluster you as you do him.

Affectionate!Simon who walks up behind you, lifts you up in his arms and turns you to carry you bridal style and dip you down for a kiss. You may think he's being goofy when he does it, it doesn't matter, he will never stop because your laughter is more then worth a little teasing from you afterwords.

Affectionate!Simon who follows you zo the couch no questions asked. He sways his leg up in the air, back and forth as he lays his head on your stomach and kisses your hands that caress his face. He is still not a puppy dog.

Affectionate!Simon who brags about you when you're out with friends, you in his lap again so he can easily kiss you or play his role of the big, bad protective boyfriend as needed. Don't act like you don't enjoy it, you're the one who keeps putting his hands on your hips.

Affectionate!Simon who insists on sraying awake a bit more then you. He loves seeing you smile into his chest, to feel your back rising and falling under his hands. And when he tells you he loves you he smiles when you mumble you love him too, in that adorable sleepy tone.

[nivisdreaming]

the selfshipper and maladaptive daydreamer urge to make your s/i super cool and hot for wish fulfillment purposes vs the raw human desire to put your true self into your s/i and be known and loved for who you are, all of who you are, and only who you are

[nivisdreaming]

Paperwork

Ghost X Reader

Summary: You spilled coffee on a soldier's paperwork by accident. Your superior sends you out to face the consequences.

Warnings: anxious reader, superior yelling at you

Let me know if you like it, might continue this into a little series! Events inspired by my own anxiety :')

"How can you be so useless?! All you had to do was punch some holes in 'em and file them! Great! Now I have to go to...", your superior, Sarah, looked over the document, "-Fuck!"

She pressed the coffee stained papers into your hands, "No, you know what? You'll go. You go to Ghost and explain to him exactly why he has to do his paperwork again. The paperwork he rarely hands in on time anyways because he hates doing it. This is your fault, you're fixing it."

A strong wave of anxiety overcame you. You were still pretty new to this place. You'd only been living and working at the military base for about a month and while the administrative tasks that came with your job were not new to you, life here was certainly different from what you were used to and needed some time to adjust to.

After about half an hour of searching you ran into John McTavish, or Soap, as he is called here. Before the two of you could collide from your anxious rush he gently stopped you by your shoulders, "Careful there, almost would've run into ya. You alright there?"

Desperately trying to pull yourself together you made your way out into the hall with your paperwork in hand. How hard could it be to find the 6'5'' ft behemoth of a man with the scary mask? Pretty hard actually, you soon realised. He really lived up to his callsign.

You stared up at him, barely holding back tears now. You'd been searching these halls for what felt like hours, Sarah is probably fuming by now because you're waisting time and, "I'm fine. Sorry I-"

"Are you crying, lass?" Soap interrupted you and immediately started eyeing you with concern on his features, "What's wrong? Did I scare you?"

"N-no, it's just... Fuck..." You simply couldn't get the words out so you just handed him the ruined paperwork to speak for itself, swallowing the next load of tears.

"Hmn? Is this Ghost's?"

You nodded in response finally mustering an answer, "I ruined 'em. He's gonna kill me for that, isn't he?"

Soap couldn't stop a chuckle, "Well, he has killed more people over less, but I think you'll be safe just this once."

"Safe from what now?"

The deep voice that rang from behind Soap startled you so much that you would've dropped all of the papers if it hadn't been for Soap holding them.

"Safe from your fury, L.T. The little lass ruined some papers by accident." Soap handed the papers over to Ghost, who now appeared beside him. You couldn't quite decipher his demeanor by just the look of his eyes peering through the mask, but you were sure he must be furious.

You tried to hide how scared you were of his reaction when the tall, masked man gently placed one of his hands on your shoulder, "Listen, I don't know what your co-workers told you about me, but there's nothing to be afraid of. It was an accident. This type of shit happens to all of us. You have nothing to worry about unless you start bothering me on purpose, are we clear?"

"Clear as day, Sir!" You responded immediately standing up straighter. Despite his fairly kind words, he was still an imposing figure and you didn't want to risk bothering him again.

"Relax, you're not one of my idiot recruits. No need for formalities. Call me Simon." He handed over the papers again, "I'll bring clean ones in later today, don't worry about it."

After staring at him for a moment in stunned silence you finally managed to say, "Thank you, Simon." Even Soap seemed a bit perplexed by seeing his Lieutenant's kind side in action. Something that clearly didn't happen too often.

As soon as Ghost had left, Soap couldn't hold his excitement any longer, "Aye Lass, I don't know how you did it, but you got on his good side it seems! Gotta teach me your secret techniques! Never have I seen him this sympathetic unless he'd messed something up himself. Incredible, you're the Ghost whisperer!"

"I'm not a 'Ghost whisperer', stop this nonsense. I have to go get back to work now. Sarah is gonna have my head for taking so long." You sighed and looked back up at him, "But thanks for leading me to him, I guess."

"Any time, lass. Join us for lunch later?" The offer came as a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. You barely knew anyone here on a first-name basis, so you usually spent lunch in your office alone.

"Uhm, sure! See you there." You waved to him before hurrying back down to meet your superior's fury once again. As it turns out Sarah's wrath was the only thing you actually had to fear today.