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#buttercream fluff
bingusbongu · 6 months
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♡♡A/n: hey!!! I apologize, i lost the reply because for some reason my post deleted, in really really sorry! But this ask included a Royal Margarine Cookie x Shy but cuddly reader!!! I just had to do this one, cause Royal Margarine is my absolute favorite cookie, i love this silly and his dilly wyvern, hope you enjoy~!♡♡
Royal Margarine Cookie x Shy but Cuddly reader!
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- Margarine Cookie has always been one for attention, he craves for it. Its not unusual for fans of his to crowd around him as soon as he makes a grand entrance
- you and him were already a couple, and of course, Margarine tried to show you off as his darling partner, wanting you to receive the same praise he would receive, besides, he liked showing you around, showing you off to other cookies who attempt to flirt with him
- What he didnt understand though is the way you backed up from the crowds, or hid behind him. Sure he liked the feeling that he could protect you, but he was confused on how you got all nervous when cookies would crowd around the two of you, and before he had a chance to show you off to his beloved fans, you were gone
- it would be Buttercream to go and find you. She didnt like the way that Margarine didnt go looking for yoi because he was to into making up fake stories to impress people. Sure she loved his rider, but she also loved you. You were so sweet to her, and even sneaked her extra snacks after supper, and you gave the greatest pets! She really liked you, so believe it or not, she is always the first one to find you
- once Buttercream tracks you down, and find you huddled away in a secure hiding spot, she is quick to make sure youre okay, before nestling her nose into your side to comfort you. She is the most understanding wyvern, she lets you talk to her and rant about how mich you hated being surrounded by people, with so many people talking at once.
- Buttercream understood that feeling, sometimes she gets overwhelmed with the cookies who keep trying to pet her and get her attention
- Royal Margarine Cookie would take a few moments to realize that not only you were gone, but realizing Buttercream was gone when a fan pointed it out. It was really uncommon for Buttercream to leave his side, let alone you.
- he definitely freaked out about it, pushing past the crowed of cookies to try and find the both of you. Calling out for you in hopes to findyou easier, trying to hide the fear in his voice, already imagining the worst
- he was extreamly worried, his two favorite things in the whole world were missing, he couldnt imagine losing you or Buttercream!
- he was about to have a breakdown, until he noticed a familiar looking tail in the corner of his eye, watching it as it disappeared into a hidden spot that he hadnt even thought to look. Instantly pipping his curiosity, why would Buttercream be there of all places? Maybe she was looking for something?
- once he finally trailed over to see what his faitful companion was doing, he was about to call out to her before completing stopping in his tracks
- Buttercream lay wrapped around you, As you nestled into the wyverns dide for warmth and comfort, shutting your eyes as you finally calmed down. Buttercreams head in your lap as you pet her, and she happily purring at the gentle affection
- Royal Margarine at the sight, feeling relieved that the both of you were okay. But still confused on why you and Buttercream were cuddled together in this little hiding space, where no one could find you.
- once you realized Royal Margarine Cookie was there finally, you invited him over to join the two of you, opening your arms as Buttcream looked up at her rider expectantly, for him to come over and join the little pile of affection going on.
- He was hesitant at first, but sighed and quickly gave in, how could he ignore his two favorite things in all of earthbread inviting him over to cuddle?
- he crawled in besides you, at first complaining that a room would be much better for this, more comfortable for the pile, but ignoring his blabbering, Buttercream dropped her tail into his lap, making him huff in protest.
- before he could make another comment, you had instantly cuddled into his side, making the words forming in his mouth come to a close as he looked down at you. His face seeming to warm up at how you nestled your head into his neck, making a small noise asif searching for comfort from him. And Royal Margarine Cookie was very happy to oblige. Wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him, shoving down his internal screaming to ask you what was wrong
- You finally ended up opening your mind to him, explaning how you hated crowds and being shoved into them for attention, how it made you nearly crumble on the spot just having so many eyes looking at you. Also, expressing how you weren't really a fan of being there and listening to the ladies fawn all over him.
- Royal Margarine Cookie listened intently, nodding his head, while on the inside he felt extreamly guilty. He hadnt ment to push you into that situation, he didnt know any better! He decided from then on to make it up to you
- after that, Royal Margarine Cookie was open to your feelings, constantly msking sure you were comfortable, abd if you werent, he would take you away somewhere else for you to feel better
- oftentimes, when he is busy, he would nake sure Buttercream would stay with you to make sure you were okay
- when his fans approach him, he wouldnt throw you into the mix. Instead, he would chat with them, before clearing his throat, and pushing past them
- "excuse me, i have a date with my wonderful partner, and i will not be late for it"
- after that, the both of you hook arms and walk to the nearest tavern, him having the biggest smug look on his face, before going to chat abd flirt with you like nothing happened
- always is touching you in some form of ways, whether it be holding your hand to wrapping his arm around your waist, he likes to keep you close to him
- when you are uncomfortable, he bring you to the side and lets you hold onto him as he tries his best to comfort you. (Usually cracking stupid jokes to make you laugh)
- especially loves after a long day, when you open your arms for him to fall into, and him grumbling about his day as you listen and play with his hair
- Royal Margarine Cookie can be full of himself, sure, but in all honesty, he really really cares about you. You are his greatest treasure, and he would do anything to make you happy! Even go on a dangerous quest if you asked him to.
- Buttercream may keep him in line, but i assure you, he is trying his best to make you happy ♡
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peachs-cookie-jar · 7 months
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Honey Cake with Marshmallow Fluff Buttercream
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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18 with Azriel because mans is taaaaall
Little Thing
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Summary - Azriel loves finding any reason to hold you, his height restricted mate, in his arms, and isn't ashamed to admit it.
Warnings - absolutely none really, slight swearing, just Az fluff x 1000
"I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
"I'm not that fucking short."
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The weight that occasionally pressed against the tips of his toes had become something he found endearing, because it meant that you were trying with all of your might to kiss him by using his feet as leverage to boost your own height.
Azriel was abnormally tall, his six foot seven to your five foot three was the source of copious amounts of teasing from your shared family, mostly from Cassian who always questioned aloud how Azriel fit inside of you, like it was all he thought about whenever he looked at the two of you.
"Would you like to watch since you're so intrigued about our sex life, Cass?"
"I, uh-," Cassian had stuttered that chill afternoon, the stars had blanketed across the sky, and you were stood in the centre of the lounge in your floor length skirt which only reached Azriel's knees, (he'd tried it on one day much to your delight); you were tapping your foot against the wooden floor, eyebrow arched and waiting for a real answer, "No."
Azriel had to give it to Cassian, and Rhys, and well anyone who questioned how Azriel, the brother with the largest wingspan, managed to fit inside of you. Cassian said often that his cock must rearrange your insides and he was surprised how you could walk around after your nights, mornings, and afternoons together, let alone go to work and live a normal life.
"Thought not. Shame, you could have learnt a thing or two for Nesta," Azriel chortled at your words and sent a wave of pride and adoration down the bond, a shower of affection that you lapped up.
"Ouch, y/n. That stung," Cassian fluttered his fingers over his heart and winced dramatically.
"Bite me," you flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen where the most incredible aromas floated from.
Once a month, you promised to cook a family dinner for them all, having negotiated your family away from the once a week they had begged for. It was as though they believed that you didn't have a life. The most decadent bakery in Velaris had your name plastered on the front of it in pale blue swirls, that was how you had met Azriel, after Feyre had dragged him into the store owned by the tiny fae female who made the best pastries she had ever tasted in her life.
The bond had snapped immediately for him when he saw you in your black apron dusted with flour, pink icing and white buttercream on your cheeks, hair strewn up but spilling over your forehead, boxing up a larger than you three tier cake without breaking a sweat.
The pastries you had made for him once you had decided to accept the bond, and the life that came with it, were almost as good as the passionate love he gave you that night.
Azriel loved everything about you, from the larger than life ferocity and sass you carried in your tiny body, to your equally ferocious loving heart; you were independent, talented, sweet, and kind, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise shadowed reality.
Though, there were two things that Azriel loved more than anything. The first was being able to find any excuse to lift you up in his hands, whether that be to help you reach the top shelf or fuck you against a wall; he wouldn't admit it easily, but he did purposefully hide things out of reach from you so that he had a reason to hold you in his large hands. The second thing he adored was how you would stand on his feet, on your tiptoes, to capture his lips on yours. It was such a sickly sweet part of you, but one that he wouldn't change for anything.
Hearing you strain, Azriel furrowed his brow, imagining you struggling to reach the second shelf of the cupboard in a home where furniture had been made for three huge Illyrians, not a tiny fae baker. Rounding the corner, he smirked at your form, he smirked at the way your skirt was hitched around your thighs as you clambered onto a nearby chair to hop onto the countertop.
Azriel sauntered over to you, laying his large hands on your hips and pressing his lips to the small of your back, grinning against your skin when you shuddered at the contact, "Need any help?" Azriel had moved the stool away from the edge of the counter, placing himself where it used to be.
Turning in his hands, you looked down on him with a wide smile, "No, I got it," you presented the bag of sugar to him and he took it from your fingers, placing it down for you, "Is this what it's like to be you? I can see so much up here."
Azriel chuckled, resting his chin on your stomach and peering up at you through his long lashes that always made you curse his Illyrian genes, "I guess so," he shrugged, locking his arms around your hips, enjoying the moment you had taken to run your fingernails over his scalp which drew a whine from his lips.
Taking his face in your hands, you leaned down and placed your lips to his, a tender embrace, one full of love and the faint taste of your vanilla lip balm that gave your lips the most incredible glossy finish, "How does it feel to kiss someone taller than you?"
Grinning, Azriel prodded, "Amazing actually. I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
You gasped, swatting his shoulder with the towel you had tucked into the back of your skirt, "I'm not that fucking short!"
His laugh boomed throughout the kitchen as you fiddled with the ends of your hair, "Okay, maybe I am just a little bit. Cassian's right, how do we have sex?" Azriel continued to laugh at your mumbling as he lifted you from the counter, placing you back on to the ground which felt so far away from where you were stood moments before.
Your mate bent down to peck your pouting bottom lip, pulling you into his body and stroking his fingers through your hair, "Who are we to question science? It works, that's good enough for me."
"It's definitely good enough for me."
"Oh I know. You told me as much last night - ow!" Azriel hissed as you dug your heel into his foot, frowning, he asked, "What was that for?"
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bashfully whispered, "I don't need Cassian to know what I tell you when we're doing that."
"You said it first."
"And?" There it was, the sass, the popped hip and arched brow, "Now move, I need to finish cooking and you're blocking my view."
Azriel smirked, "Oh my beautiful little thing, but I am the view."
A giggle floated through your lips, his favourite sound apart from when you were moaning his name beneath him, "You're lucky I love you," you fell into his open arms and pressed your lips to his clothed chest, to the exact place where your lips always met when you stood before him.
"I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that right?"
Humming in agreement, your hands wrapped around his back, "I know, Az," you pulled away, craning your neck toward the ceiling to look at him, "I'd change one thing about you though," his face dropped, "That you'd stop purposefully hiding things on the top shelf."
Azriel took a step back, "You know?!"
Scoffing, you turned, focusing back to the slowly simmering melting chocolate on the stove top, "Of course I know. I'm small, not dumb."
Azriel's warmth swarmed you, his huge arms nestled over your chest, and he rested his head atop your own, "All I can do is do it a little less. You know I like man-handling you. It makes me feel strong."
"Big Illyrian baby."
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Authors Note
Just a little drabble on a Wednesday evening x
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bisayawa · 7 months
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freckles & blades & helping hands
✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader
✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.
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"do you need any help?"
legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.
the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.
"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."
the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.
there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.
"i could do it for you, you know?"
his eyes never leave the mirror.
"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."
"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."
"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.
he rights himself.
"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.
a beat passes.
"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."
he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.
the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.
"so..." your voice cuts through.
"so...?"
"could i do it for you?"
he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.
"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.
"you could teach me." tap tap.
"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap
"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"
"it's with the grain, honey."
"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"
"hm..."
"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."
"you've catalogued my grousing?"
"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."
he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.
"alright, alright... here..."
he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.
"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."
he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.
"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."
he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.
"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"
your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.
"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."
shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.
the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.
"how was that?" you murmur.
"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"
"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."
"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."
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cheollipop · 6 months
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❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬
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navi | taglist
pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader
w.c.: 4.4k
genre: smut, fluff, established relationship
while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.
❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up
❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.
nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞
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Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.
You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.
Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.
“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.
“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.
This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”
He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”
“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.
A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”
You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”
“Too long.”
Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.
It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.
Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.
Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.
A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.
The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.
And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”
Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.
“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.
Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.
You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.
Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.
Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.
As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.
The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.
“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.
“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”
He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.
The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.
Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”
He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.
“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.
Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.
“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”
--
All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.
“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.
Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.
“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”
You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.
“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.
Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.
“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”
You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.
“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”
A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”
Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.
Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”
His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.
“What are you—”
“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.
He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.
You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.
“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.
“Fuck, Woo, please—”
Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.
“Close?”
It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.
He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.
It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.
Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.
“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.
“What?”
“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”
Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.
With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.
The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.
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stvolanis · 5 months
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BIRTHDAY BOY
(one shot)
PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader
WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs
NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie
sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.
It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.
The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.
Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).
The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.
He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.
Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.
Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.
Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.
But you knew it was the other way around.
You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?
He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.
Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.
You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.
You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.
But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.
“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.
The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.
You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.
“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.
“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.
He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.
“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.
You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.
You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you
“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.
You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.
“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.
He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.
All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.
He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.
You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.
Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.
“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.
He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.
You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.
There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.
In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.
He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.
“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.
It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.
“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.
“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.
You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.
You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.
You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.
“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.
Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.
His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.
You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..
“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.
You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.
You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.
He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.
“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.
“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.
Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.
A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.
Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.
“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.
He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.
“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.
“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.
He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.
Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!
tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts
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mamaestapa · 6 months
Note
Could you write a Christmas baking turned naughty with Joe burrow? Maybe you’re trying to bake some cookies for the Christmas party but he’s being all needy
Frosting Looks Better on You|| Joe Burrow x reader
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•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
•summary: Baking for the annual Bengals WAGs Christmas party takes a naughty turn
•warnings: fluff, suggestive language, horny joe, licking frosting off of body parts, allusions to smut
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“Joe?” you asked sweetly, “could you hand me the frosting?”
He nodded at your request, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing the frosting from over by the oven.
You were currently baking and decorating cookies for the annual Christmas party for the Bengals wives and girlfriends. Each year you all throw a party, with each girl being responsible for bringing a different food or beverage. This year you were responsible for the cookies.
Joe handed you the bowl of homemade buttercream frosting. You grabbed the bowl and thanked him before going back to work on decorating the sugar cookies. As you were frosting the cookies, Joe was eyeing you from behind. He was eyeing you hard, too.
Something about the way you looked hard at work concentrating on making those cookies look perfect had him intrigued. The outfit you had in wasn’t helping his thoughts either. The all black jumpsuit hugged your curves perfectly and showed just enough cleavage to make him want to take you right there in the kitchen.
You had just frosted a fifth cookie when Joe had had enough of just admiring you. He needed you, and he needed you badly. He pushed himself off the counter once again, huffing out a sigh as he did so. You chuckled at the sound of your boyfriend’s dramatic sigh. You knew exactly what had him bothered.
Joe walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Tugging you into him as you picked up another cookie. You moaned softly at the feeling of his lips on your neck, sucking so harshly at the skin that you were sure he would leave bruises. He licked a stripe up your neck before gently biting at your earlobe. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling as your arousal started to grow. You couldn’t though…your party is in an hour and a half and you still had two dozen cookies to frost.
“Joe,” you whimpered softly as your boyfriend continued to suck violently at your neck, “I c-mph, can’t. These have to be done in an hour.”
“The cookies can wait, but you can’t and neither can I.” You scoffed lightly, trying to tear your needy boyfriend away from you. “Oh I can wait.”
You really couldn’t—at least, not anymore at.
“Your body says otherwise.” Joe smirked as his hands came up to your breasts, playing with your hard nipples. You shuddered at his touch, throwing your head back into his shoulder as he palmed your breasts. Joe always knew how to get you to unwind under his touch. You dropped the spoon you were using to frost the cookies.
“Besides,” Joe said as he let go of your chest. He turned you around so now you were facing him. He had a sly smile on his face as he spoke, “this frosting looks better on you anyways. Tastes better too.”
You eyed Joe as he swiped his index finger along the rim of the frosting bowl. He kept his eyes locked with yours as he slowly brought his finger down to your chest, spreading the frosting all along your breasts and cleavage. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his finger spreading the sweetness over your body. Joe continued to eye you as he sucked his finger clean. You bit your lip in anticipation, letting out a soft whimper as he slowly brought his face into your cleavage. Joe started to lap up the frosting in a slow-teasing way, making sure to look up at you every now and then as he licked you clean.
“Joey,” you moaned out as you brought your hands up to his blonde locks that were growing out again, “don’t stop, feels so good.”
Joe smirked as his chuckle vibrated against your chest, making your body jolt. “Wasn’t planning on it baby girl, now,” he put his hands on the back of your legs, bringing them up to your butt cheeks and giving them a generous squeeze. “Jump.”
You jumped up on the counter, pushing the cookie tray to the side as Joe removed his mouth from your sticky chest. You both let out a moan of pleasure as you kissed hungrily on the kitchen counter.
The cookies could wait.
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this one was short but WHEW i got all giggly just writing it🤭
i apologize for how short this one was, but i think it still gets the job done ;) any joe smut is good smut in my opinion. i don’t have much to say bc i already gave my whole spiel on the first post i made lol
have a great day lovelies!🤍
514 notes · View notes
marvelsswansong · 2 years
Text
gold rush
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summary: Eddie's known you his whole life. He's your best friend. In truth, he wants to be your boyfriend - he wants to call you his without it being a joke and to kiss you when you're sober. But everyone loves you and wants you: he doesn't like a gold rush.
tags: Eddie x gn!reader (everyone can read!!!), childbood best friends to lovers, slow burn, pining!Eddie, 18+ reader (impli. in twenties), smidge off canon, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, oneshot
☆ word count: 16.3K+ ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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There's smudges of buttercream frosting by the corners of your lips.
But you're too busy to notice the mess on your face when you're racing Robin to the end of the block, both of you stumbling around like a couple of drunkards, hysterical giggles filling the air after having spun around in circles twenty times. It takes a full thirty seconds before you shove her away and begin to make a run for the end of the block, your sprint only further fuelled by the excited screaming from the kids.
It's your birthday.
You'd insisted - no, pleaded, really - to everyone that there's no need for a celebration. Eddie still remembers the sour expression your face twisted into when Joyce gently suggested throwing you a birthday party to celebrate, and the way you'd then firmly assured her and Hopper that it was enough that they'd even remembered that it was your birthday in a week.
"It's seriously nothing, Joyce." you'd emphasized, setting down your fork with a shy smile. The older woman only huffed at that, wholly unconvinced.
"Your birthday is not nothing, (Y/n), it's a special day that only occurs once a year. We should celebrate! And don't worry, we can organize it all here." Joyce had firmly insisted, casting a sideway glance to Hopper for support. He simply nodded in silence from next to her, right leg idly bouncing up and down as he took another sip of his beer.
Noticing that your hesitant expression wasn't fading, Eddie made it a point to knock his knees with yours to grab your attention, soothing your anxieties by squeezing your hands under the table.
"Come on, sunshine. When's the last time you had a proper birthday in Hawkins since you started university? Besides, we could invite all the kids and our mutual friends... everyone under one roof for the day?"
With all of them gazing at you intently - Hopper raising his eyebrows in a "come on, just say yes" manner, an eager glint in Joyce's warm eyes, and a reassuring grin on Eddie's lips - you had relented, sighing deeply but the shadow of a smile on your face giving your true feelings away.
"Alright. Yeah, Joyce, that'd be great."
In the present, Eddie's quiet thoughts are disrupted by Steve sitting down next to him on the wooden bench, a half empty beer bottle in his hands.
"I've never seen Joyce work so hard on a birthday party before. Not even for Jonathan's - though don't tell him I said that." Steve jokes, chuckling lowly under his breath. Eddie has to agree with his friend that the woman has gone above and beyond.
Hopper and Jonathan are by the barbeque grill, cooking and wiping away sweat away from their foreheads, Nancy and Joyce are sitting by the outdoor swings nursing lemonades in their hands, and the kids (alongside you and Robin) are engaging in silly games by the street - rogue soccer balls, baseball bats and bicycles littered on the lawn.
The backyard of the Wheeler's house is spilling with birthday decorations, from brightly colored balloons wrapped around every piece of furniture to string lights and banners sprawled across the fences, growing from the sides as if they're vines. There are bean bags on the lawn next to picnic tables filled with a wide assortment of food and drinks, a handheld radio the centrepiece blasting a top 40 hit.
Flicking away a stray balloon knocking into his side - of golden color, with the words "happy birthday!" scribbled on it in sharpie - Eddie nods along to Steve's comments absentmindedly.
"Yeah, she really did go all out."
Steve chuckles.
"I even overheard from the conversation happening by the grill that Joyce's even going to bring out an outdoor projector to screen a movie later. I don't even know how she managed to set all that up last minute."
Eddie's trying to be polite and stay tuned into the conversation, but his gaze continues to drift to you, consciously or not. You're standing hunched over, hands on bruised knees with harsh pants coming out of your mouth from the intense sprint you just took off on, as Max and El make fun of how wild your hair looks now. You scowl playfully and threaten to chase them next, to which they say something back that Eddie can't hear (knowing them and based on the look of fake shock on your face, he guesses it's a sassy retort) before you set them off running in full speeds, giggling.
"You could just go over and join them instead of staring." Steve jokes, noticing that the metalhead's attentions are elsewhere. Eddie smiles an embarrassed grin at that, his fingers clenching ever so slightly around the gift and letter sitting on his lap, to which Steve's brown eyes fall onto next. "Oh, the gift pile is over there, here, let me help-"
Steve leans over to take the neatly wrapped box and manila envelope to match from Eddie's grasp, to which the taller boy only flinches and instinctively bring the items closer to his chest.
"No, it's fine! I uh, I want to be holding onto these for the party." he quickly rambles out, ignoring the way Steve's face scrunches up in confusion.
"You sure?"
"Yep! Positive. 100% positive, actually."
Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie, a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't get to ask any of them before Hopper is calling him over for help. Eddie lets out a small sigh of relief when he's alone again, incredibly happy to not be subject to interrogation as to why he's so protective of the gift and the letter on his lap.
Truth be told, it's the letter that Eddie's most attached to.
He's spent the entirety of last week perfecting it, writing and rewriting certain paragraphs in odd times through the day whilst mulling over the countless moments encompassing his friendship with you, and it's the piece of paper containing his deepest confession.
He loves you.
More than a best friend should.
Despite being light as a feather, the envelope feels heavy as bricks in his hands in the present moment, the soft papery texture burning his skin as he toys with its flimsy edges, tips of his fingers running up and down the square corners. Though Eddie later (reluctantly) abandons the gift and the letter by the bench to join in on a few games between you and the kids, and to later help Joyce bring out the large birthday cake from the kitchen, his mind remains fixated on that singular piece of paper for the whole party.
Your features aglow with the red and orange embers of the flames from the birthday candles, your lashes flutter shut before your lips puck together to blow, the entire room erupting into applause and appreciative shouts when you finish. You're glowing, Eddie thinks, beaming with happiness and awe as you turn around to give Joyce a fierce embrace and Hopper a cool fist bump.
Eddie makes it a point to carry the gift and the letter with him, hidden out of sight and behind his back, as you tear open each gift during spoonfuls of red velvet cake. Once you've gone down the line opening everyone's gifts, all eyes zero in on Eddie, who sheepishly smiles and lifts up the items in his hands.
"Don't worry, I have your gift and letter here."
"Never doubted you, Eds." you affirm, holding your hands out. Eddie freezes at that, stuttering his response.
"B-but you can't open it here. You have to open it, uh, when you're alone."
The room's split in between confusion (the kids not understanding what Eddie could've possibly gotten you that would require you to have to open it in private) and a collective, amused understanding amongst the adults (smirks on Joyce and Hopper's faces, quiet whispers between Nancy and Jonathan, playful nudges between Robin and Steve).
But you seem none the wiser, a low hum and curious smile quirking up the edges of your lips.
"Ooh, mysterious. Alright then, Eds. I look forward to it."
Eddie's so damn tense on the drive back to your apartment that he's afraid he's going to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Heart beating a million miles per minute, he can hear his blood pumping right by his ears as he rounds the corner to your house, throat running dry at the realization that you're holding his letter in your lap.
"C-can I come in?" he asks, breathlessly, slapping on a quick grin to mask his mix of fear and worry. "To see your reaction to my gift and stuff."
You roll your eyes playfully at that, unstrapping the seat belt from your shoulder.
"Duh. We've been friends since we were 7 years old."
He's been over to your apartment a million times before, but suddenly the dark hallways and oak stairs seem daunting. Each footstep echoes through the silence ominously, a mocking voice reminding him with each step up the stairs that you're one step closer to opening that damn letter.
Unaware of Eddie's anxieties, you're humming a light pop song when you usher him into the bedroom, closing the door half-hazardously behind you by kicking it shut with one leg before dramatically flailing onto your bed.
"Ah, home. Just me and my bed." you groan into the sheets, stretching your tired limbs out.
"And me." your best friend adds, pretending to be offended. Your face lifts up from the comforter in response, dopey grin on your cake and champagne filled-face.
"And you. Always you, Eddie."
You sit with your legs crossed across from him, Eddie's legs dangling off the mattress as you carefully inspect the letter in the light. Your fingers move to tear it open when he stops you quickly, placing a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you mid-movement.
"W-wait. Open the gift first."
You pause, amused, raising your eyebrows.
"Isn't it usual to open the letter first before the gift?"
"Well, yeah, maybe, but... trust me, it'll make more sense later."
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth before letting the letter fall back down onto your lap.
"Alright... But seriously, this is only getting more and more mysterious."
You inspect the neatly wrapped box in your lap: the wrapping is rather imperfect, with odd scrunches at the sides and messy taping holding the wrapping together around the shape of the box. But the wrapping paper's pattern is too endearing (a cartoon shark holding an umbrella over its head) and so is the gold bow he's put on top, so you suppose it makes up for the slightly messy presentation.
"Sorry about the lame wrapping paper, it was like the only one left at the store." Eddie comments quietly, sheepish.
"Trust me, it's perfect." you assure him, winking.
Your fingers tear open the paper to see that inside is a beautiful, sleek, black polaroid camera. Taking the polaroid gently out of the box, you stare at it in shock, its weight pleasant on your hands as you twist it around to examine every feature. Underneath the box holding the polaroid, Eddie has even thrown in several pieces of film, tied together hastily with decorative string.
"Oh my god Eddie... this... this must've cost a fortune!" you ramble, looking up at him with awe. He shakes it off though, head twisting side to side in denial, signature smirk gracing his face.
"Nah. I had some money saved up from a few Corroded Coffin gigs and the internship I did a few months ago up in Idaho paid off. Besides..." he takes in a deep breath before smiling with a short exhale. "It's my best friend's birthday - I couldn't give you something small and lame."
You laugh at that, dropping the camera carefully onto your lap.
"Well, you could've gotten me a rock off the side of the street and I still would've loved it. I mean, this- this is too much." you fuss, not meeting his gaze.
"Hey. You deserve it. It's your birthday. And again, you're my best friend. Stop acting like I went into debt buying something nice for you." he jokes, poking you on the side right where you're ticklish. You squirm away from him, curses on the tip of your tongue, but you're not really mad at him.
You don't think you could ever really be mad at Eddie.
"Alright, fine. Thank you so, so, so much, Eds. You're the bestest friend ever." you mumble into his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck.
He can feel your heartbeat reverberating through your top, your signature perfume wafting over him at this proximity, a comforting smell that he inhales slowly as he returns your embrace. It doesn't last long enough for Eddie before you pull away and set the camera to the side, hands now reaching out for the letter.
"Wait." he blurts out again, and this time, you playfully roll your eyes.
"Again, Eddie? I feel like you really don't want me to read this letter for some reason."
Your voice is playful, your expression clearly being one of fond amusement, but Eddie feels as if his chest is being squeezed by invisible ropes. God, if only you had any idea as that what you were about to read, he thinks.
"Just to give you background on the letter, that's all." Eddie assures you, shuffling closer. "So, remember how on your first day back from Boston we had that conversation in the cinema? About how you thought the plot of that romantic movie we ended up watching was super unrealistic?"
You two had meant to see the newest horror movie, but ended up running late to the cinema and the ticketmaster (a bored looking teenager with wild red hair and blue eyes) droned from behind the glass that all tickets for that film were sold for the day. You glanced over at Eddie, silently asking him what to do next, and Eddie had shrugged his shoulders and suggested just seeing another film.
The only film that had any available tickets - considering that it was past 9pm on a Friday night - was a romantic comedy starring two famous actors neither of you cared much about. But eager to catch up on all the time you two missed whilst you were studying in Boston and Eddie was attending community college in Hawkins, neither of you minded.
The screening room was nearly empty, allowing you and Eddie to sit by the front (far away from the few other people in attendance) and whisper throughout the duration of the whole film. Towards the end of the film, the female protagonist began to cry as her love interest stared to declare 100 things he loved about her, and you groaned audibly and rolled your eyes.
"God, I fucking hate how unrealistic these films are." you'd complained, sinking against your cinema seat. Eddie shot you an amused glance at that, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.
"Really, this is unrealistic for you? Not the non-existent sex scenes? Not the female characters always waking up with perfect hair and makeup? Not the protagonists always living in penthouses in New York on a barista's budget?" he'd teased, knocking shoulders with yours. You grunted, rolling your eyes.
"Well, all that's super unrealistic too, don't get me wrong. But come on, who the hell can name 100 things they love about someone?"
"What, you couldn't name 100 things you love about someone?" he had challenged, raising his eyebrows.
"Definitely not! Not even to like, my parents or best friends. Why, are you saying you can, Munson?" you retorted, crossing your arms. Eddie just leaned back and smirked.
"Oh, you have no idea. I definitely could. Like I could list 100 things I love about you right now."
He meant it sincerely, but you didn't seem to pick up on it - either because it was too dark in the cinema room to see how his eyes softened at the confession or because you'd become so desensitized to his honesty after a lifelong platonic friendship.
So you just snorted and raised your hands in mock defeat.
"Geez, alright then."
"I'm serious, I could!" he argued, poking you on the side to redirect your gaze towards him. You chuckled, shaking your head sideways at your best friend's antics.
"Yeah, okay. Save it for another day, okay? The old lady behind us keeps on glaring and I'm afraid she's gonna stab us if we keep on talking."
"The shitty rom com day? Yeah, of course I remember. Why?"
Eddie swallows nervously, tongue poking out to trace his bottom lip.
"I did it. I wrote down the 100 things I love about you onto that letter."
Your eyebrows raise and an impressed grin spreads on your lips.
"You actually did? Damn, I'm impressed, Munson."
"Yeah, well, considering I had basically our entire lives to draw upon, it wasn't that hard. One thing though: it's super, duper important that you read to the very end. Like, from number one to one hundred without stopping. No skipping ahead." Eddie hastily adds, fingers itching by his sides with anxiety.
You nod slowly, finally unclasping the front of the envelope as you begin to read.
-------------------------------------------
01. your eyes - they were the first thing I noticed about you when you first spoke to me.
Eddie was seven when he first met you.
He was sulking in the playground, a couple hundred feet away from all the other kids, busy kicking a small pebble back and forth with the cement wall in boredom. He desperately wanted the school day to be over. He wasn't as tall as the other kids yet, and all the boys his age already thought that he was too weird: obsessed with music and bugs instead of cars and girls.
Lunch periods sucked the most for Eddie - at the very least, during class, he could distract himself by nodding along to the teachers and burying his mind in whatever activity he had to finish. But when released from the confines of the classroom and people naturally split off into their groups, Eddie was almost always alone.
He didn't mind too much, he supposed. It was no different from at home, where his parents and him barely spoke - him in his room unless it was time to eat, silent dinners at night with his father's head in a newspaper and his mother nursing a cigarette.
Eddie was getting ready to kick the small pebble back to the wall, right leg bracing backwards, when he suddenly felt someone's warm hand on his shoulder.
"It's a lot more fun when you kick a ball back and forth, you know. And when you do it with someone, not a wall."
He recognized that voice.
Despite having moved into Hawkins less than two weeks ago, you already had a large circle of friends and several teachers wrapped around your fingers. Star student, extrovert, popular kid.
All things Eddie certainly were not, so as to render him starstruck that THE (Y/n) (L/n) would want to speak to him.
So his first reaction was to look around the playground, expecting to see another kid kicking a pebble back and forth and to whom your comment was actually directed to, but the courtyard was practically empty. You seemingly caught on to his confusion and giggled, stepping closer to him so as to shadow the sun behind your figure.
"Yes, I'm talking to you. My name is (Y/n), by the way."
The young boy was sure there wasn't a single person in his grade who didn't know who you were. And yet here you were, having separated from the larger group of kids to specifically seek Eddie out, introducing yourself with bruised knees and a wide smile. His eyes hesitantly lifted from the floor to meet your eyes - dancing with joy, irises twinkling with a glow akin to jewels, an alluring sense of warmth exuding from your simple gaze.
He was transfixed. His left hand was slow to rise but he eventually shook your hand, gripping your fingers tightly.
"Nice to meet you, (Y/n). I'm Eddie."
"Eddie." you strung his name out, as if testing how it sounded from your lips. "That's a cool name. Wanna play ball?"
You spun the soccer ball in your hands back and forth, wiggling your eyebrows.
"Sure."
And that was the start of his lifelong friendship with you.
-----------------------------------------
13: your sense of adventure - I'll never forget how the first time I got grounded by Wayne was because you wanted to sneak out to see the meteor showers.
"Did you hear that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight?"
You'd come barreling into his trailer, not even bothering to properly knock (and only sending a polite "hello" to Wayne who was sat on the couch watching TV), startling Eddie who was devouring one science fiction comic after another.
"A hello is usually how people start conversations." Eddie had grumbled back, folding the paper comic away, though his slight annoyance melted away quickly at your obvious excitement. It was spring break and you were two bored ten year old kids constrained to the mundane life in Hawkins.
"Hello, Eddie, you look great, hope you're well, blah blah blah." you mocked, putting on an overly formal accent as you eventually walked over to his bed and shooed for him to make space for you on the mattress. Scowling (though it wasn't genuine), he obliged, allowing you to sit next to him with your legs criss crossed. "But seriously. I read in the newspaper this morning that a once in a decade meteor shower is going to happen at 11pm tomorrow."
"And?" the boy questioned, flipping his head over to the side, staring at you with mild confusion. You looked positively offended at that, folding one of his spare sci fi comics in half to hit him across the shoulder.
"AND? And we gotta sneak out to see it for ourselves, Eddie!"
Eddie sighed, lips drawn tight as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know, sounds kind of boring. Also, we technically have school tomorrow."
You pouted at that, crossing your arms in indignant disagreement.
"Aw, come on, Eds, PLEASE?"
"Why don't you go alone?"
You spluttered at his suggestion.
"ALONE? Eddie, this is a ONCE IN A DECADE occurence! Come on, as my best friend, please? I promise it'll be fun!"
Eddie suppressed another deep sigh - this was the paradox of his friendship with you.
You were this ball of energy, bright sunshine on a summery day, an extrovert who enjoyed parties, biking and spontaneous plans on a late Wednesday night. Eddie was more withdrawn, a sunflower blooming in the dark, someone who preferred to spend his free days reading comics or studying the genius of his favorite rock musicians with an open notebook and pen in hand.
Perhaps that was why you two worked together so well though. At least, that was Wayne's working theory, considering you two had been inseparable for three years at this point.
"Fine." he had grumbled and you leaped forward to hug him, crushing Eddie between your arms, making him wince.
"Sorry, sorry, I just got excited! Oh, we'll have to be super careful when sneaking out. You can bike alongside me whilst I skateboard, I know the perfect place to view the meteor shower: it's this little hill by Cornelia Park." you hurried out, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, your fingers thrumming alongside your skateboard.
"You're not sticking around?"
Eddie tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but it still laced his tone, eyebrows furrowing as he was expecting you to stick around for dinner at the least (which was routine whenever you came over).
"Can't, my cousins are visiting from out of state and my mom will kill me if I miss the family dinner. But tomorrow, I'll sneak out and be waiting for you outside your trailer at like 10:30, okay?" you said, sticking one of your pinkie fingers out at him. "Remember, Eds, you can never break a pinkie promise with me."
You warned with a serious voice, a joke that you'd been employing since last year when you'd used it to ensure Eddie would pay you back for ice cream. He rolled his eyes then and he was rolling his eyes now too, but he nonetheless wrapped his own finger around yours, sealing the deal.
"10:30 tomorrow, got you."
Eddie feigned going to bed awfully early the next day, telling a small white lie that he wasn't feeling well, and he waited dutifully until he heard the television flicker off and Wayne's breaths to even out from the other bedroom. Slowly creaking open his door, Eddie pocketed the keys sitting by the kitchen table after having quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a black jacket to fight off the autumn cold.
As you'd promised, you were waiting for him outside, skateboard tucked securely under your left arm, wide awake smile on your face as you excitedly waved him over.
"Alright, let me get my bike first, relax." he'd teased, unchaining his bicycle from a nearby tree as you excitedly jumped up and down on the balls of your feet.
"Come onnnnn, Eds! I don't want to miss the beginning."
"I don't think it's even possible to miss out the beginning of a natural occurrence." he'd countered, but your cheery disposition wasn't affected.
"Alright grumpy pants, let's get going."
He followed behind you carefully - night wind whipping through his hair, pale moonlight illuminating the cracks between oak trees and ink black roads - before you slowed down by the entrance to the park. You hopped off your skateboard and Eddie chose to walk alongside his bike whilst making small talk, with you insisting that the perfect spot to view the meteor shower was a large hill at the back of a private garden.
"Damn it, it's locked." you swore, placing one hand on the green metal gate before pulling it fiercely back and forth. A slow smirk arose on your face as you turned back at Eddie, a treacherous, mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what this means."
"(Y/n), no."
"(Y/n), yes. We're climbing over the gate."
Before he could even stop you, you had thrown your skateboard overboard and started climbing the metal fence. To your credit, it wasn't a particularly difficult task - your left foot being dug between the gaps before you hoisted the rest of your body up and swung your legs over the top with ease.
"Just lock your bicycle to the side and we'll come back for it, promise." you promised from the other side, smiling at him through the gaps of the fence. Eddie ran a hand down his face, semi-regretting agreeing with you, before he relented and pointed an accusatory finger at you.
"Fine. But if we get arrested and go to jail, I'm totally blaming this on you."
"Guilty as charged, Munson."
He climbed over the fence after locking his bicycle by the side fence, though he had a bit more of a difficulty climbing it than you (with the fact that he was already taller than you by a few inches making it all the more embarrassing.) But he didn't have time to dwell on that, when the moment his shaky feet met the dirt floor, your left hand was gripping his wrist tightly and leading him further into the night.
"Come on, it's nearly 11." you cautioned, motioning to the fancy wristwatch your parents had gifted you for your tenth birthday.
The clearing you led Eddie to was beautiful - a small stream flowing underneath flower beds blooming with orange bellflowers, pink roses and white lilies, a cobblestone pathway leading up to a large hill separated by neatly trimmed hedges and plastic garden gnomes. He barely had a chance to appreciate every aspect of the small oasis before you were pushing him up the hill, flashing him a proud smile when you collapsed on top of the mound after a few minutes of climbing.
"Here we are!" you announced. "Perfect view of the night sky."
Eddie wordlessly sat next to you, knees closed together and drawn to his chest, catching his breath whilst staring up at the the empty night sky. After a few moments of silence, he frowned, and he was getting ready to ask you if you were sure that you'd read the paper correctly.
And that was when the first shooting star crossed the sky. A bright, brilliant flash of light which soared from one edge of the sky to another, it elicited a shocked gasp from you, your fingers curling around his upper arm excitedly.
"It's starting!"
After the first star, all the others followed in quick succession, decorating the inky black landscape with stunning bursts of white light. Eddie had to admit, it was an incredible sight to see, and at some point you'd snuck closer towards him and Eddie quickly looked down to shoot you a worried glance.
"You alright?" he questioned, noticing that you were shivering next to him.
"Just peachy! A bit cold, though, didn't have the time to grab my cardigan cause I had to climb out the window." you chuckled, rubbing your upper forearms with your hands. He was quick to discard his jacket at that, wrapping the fabric around your shoulders without a second thought.
"Are you sure, Eds?" you asked, frowning, though you were grateful for the rush of warmth. He nodded, disregarding the small chill running down his back at the sudden exposure to the cold.
"Positive. I rather I be cold than you."
"Thanks, Eds. You're the best."
"That's why I'm your best friend." he teased. You chuckled, shaking your head in agreement.
"I guess so."
And then when you'd grown weary and tired, resting your head on his shoulder as he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder to make sure your head wouldn't slip off, Eddie felt a foreign sensation.
His vision was slightly hazy, rose hues glazing his irises, pleasant warmth filling his stomach as if he'd just eaten a delicious warm meal. It was a completely new feeling, your presence both simultaneously feeling like too much yet not enough, his breaths coming out at a slightly faster pace as he stared down at you.
Eddie didn't know what he was feeling, but somehow, having you rest your head against his shoulder in the dead of night... After having snuck out to climb over a fence into a private garden to watch a meteor shower with you, awoke something in him.
He didn't know what to call the feeling.
All he knew was that he liked it, and he liked being around you.
And that was enough of an answer for ten year old Eddie.
-------------------------------------
21: your laughter - I always like hearing you laugh. Some days, I even think it's better than Black Sabbath and Metallica.
A crush.
That was what it was, Eddie now realized, his teenage years finally giving him the language to explain what he was feeling for his best friend.
You were sitting with your legs swinging back and forth on the park bench, tongue lazily swirling around your ice cream, a celebratory treat for having gotten through - alongside Eddie - the dreadful three years of middle school.
Well, more dreadful for him than you, he supposed.
Even though in middle school Eddie had broken out of his shell much more (having discovered a love for fantasy novels, metal music and befriending a small group of boys who were also branded "nerds"), you and him were still separated by several stratospheres in the social pyramid.
You still shared a few classes with him, during which you always sat in front or behind him, for which he was always grateful. It was one of Eddie's greatest insecurities that sooner or later, you'd realize that you were too good to be with him and ditch for someone better. But you never did, even going so far as to defend him from snide comments from the other popular kids that you were "too good" to be hanging around someone like him.
Eddie often wondered if he was a burden to you: dragging you down as you swam, weighing you down as you soared higher and higher to the sun. You always laughed off such accusations, paired with a stern talking - akin to that of a disappointed parent - which emphasized how much you valued him.
Eddie still didn't really know why.
It was the summer before the start of high school, the realization which was sitting heavy in his lower stomach, mind swirling with a cacophony of anxious thoughts.
See, Eddie had spent the three years of middle school learning guitar, reading every fantasy novel he could get his hands on, and sticking by the same group of boys who had been branded as nerds from the beginning of sixth grade.
You'd spent those years becoming the captain of the swimming club, getting invited to countless parties and sleep overs, and growing up into your features.
Eddie always thought you were a nice looking person, sure. But as soon as puberty hit and his hormones began to kick in, he realized that you were growing up right in front of his eyes. Your shoulders became more defined, thighs more toned, you'd certainly grown several inches in height from that excited seven year old who'd first offered to play ball with him. Your facial features were balancing out, eyes slightly shifting in hue, lips more plump.
And fuck, you were gorgeous.
And Eddie hadn't been the only one to notice, considering how everyone either envied you or wanted to date you.
Eddie was wondering now what it must be like to grow up that beautiful as droplets of strawberry ice cream hung from the edges of your bottom lip, hair kissed with glittering sunlight streaming through the gaps of the willow tree you were sat under.
"You excited to start high school?" you'd asked him whilst wiggling your eyebrows, as if you were passing off a dirty joke that neither of you should be engaging in. Eddie blew through his lips, quickly taking a bite off of his own ice cream cone, throwing you a nonchalant shrug.
"Meh. Probably gonna be like middle school, but shittier and with more hormones."
You laughed at that, a carefree melody flowing from your throat as you threw your head back, yellow sunlight illuminating your features at the action. It was a proper laugh, a loud sound followed by echoes of giggles, eyes turning teary and stomach aching from the lack of oxygen.
It made butterflies flutter in Eddie's stomach, fingers itching to tap your nose and lips aching to kiss your cheeks, but he remained still, content to just sit back and watch you laugh at his dumb jokes.
"You're probably right. But god, it's such a big change, it's kind of scary." you had said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. "I mean, high school! Four years in a completely new place! Then we'll be off to university, then we'll have jobs, then we'll probably have families-"
"Hey, hey, relax." Eddie had to calm you down as you were speaking so fast that you forgot to breathe in between each sentence, his left hand springing up to comfortingly pat against your clothed back. "You're overthinking it."
"Very me, isn't it?" you gave him a sheepish smile, kicking up your legs to cross them underneath your arms. Eddie just smiled in acknowledgement.
"Sure is, sunshine."
You stuck your tongue out at that, face scrunching up as if you'd tasted something bitter.
"When will you stop calling me that? We're not ten anymore, Eds." you commented, referring to the fact that Eddie had been calling you by the nickname 'sunshine' since both of you were ten. His justification? You were sunny, fun, and you always 'brightened his days' - "you're basically my sunshine" he'd confessed, hands wringed together, shy grin on his lips.
"Never, sorry not sorry."
"Well then what am I supposed to call you? Seems hardly fair that I get a nickname and you don't." you paused, humming as you began to seemingly brainstorm an appropriate name in your head. "Moonshine."
"Moonshine?" he mocked, giving you an incredulous look, to which you threw your hands up dramatically.
"I-I don't know! I was just thinking like, if I was going to be called sunshine and we're such opposites, you'd be called moonshine."
"I'm pretty sure that's the name of that illegal alcohol too. You know, the spirit that's banned in the US for having an insanely high alcohol concentration?" he teased, before he nodding affirmatively. "You know what, now that I think about it, I kind of like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We're opposites - sun and moon - and I sort of dig the thought of being named after a deadly alcohol brand."
"You're hardly fatal, Munson." you'd hit back, knocking your shoulders with his.
"Eh, Wayne seems to think I am whenever I cook."
You laughed again at that, and though this time it was shorter and lighter, it still did the job of lighting his veins on fire and causing a slight blush to paint over his cheeks.
Eddie was certain that he'd say and do anything - absolutely anything - to hear you laugh at his jokes.
------------------------------------------
36: your honesty - it might break a lot of hearts, but it's so refreshing.
"Everything alright?" you questioned Eddie from behind, frown on your wet lips as you peeked over his shoulder to stare at the retreating jocks.
You were both sophomores now, a full two years into high school, and Eddie had been proven correct in his prediction that he'd continue to be an outcast and a weirdo whilst you dominated the popularity pyramid.
The basketball team had taken particular glee at bugging Eddie at school - knocking into him in the hallways, purposefully ignoring him during group discussions, whispering words like "freak" and "loser" whenever they passed by him. That was, of course, so long as you weren't near him. They were on their best behavior around you: student body president, head of student volunteering, varsity swim captain.
After all, you were kind of one of them - you sat with the popular kids: the varsity athletes and cheerleaders and student government members. Eddie, on the other hand, sat in the back of the lunch room with the science club nerds, with whom they discovered a mutual love for D&D after being grouped together for a Chemistry project.
"Everything's fine, don't worry your pretty little head about it, okay?" Eddie had joked at you, winking. "We still on for Friday movie night?" he added, hopefully, slamming his locker door shut. His smile fell in the fraction of a second at the unexpected sight of your sorry expression.
"Yeah, about that... I can't tonight." you'd said awkardly, scratching your neck.
"What? Your parents got you doing household chores again?"
"Oh, no, no. My parents are out of town this week. It's... something else."
You were clearly hiding something: avoiding his gaze and dragging the soles of your shoes on the floor as you wordlessly trailed behind him in the hallways, making Eddie's curiosity worsen. After all, you two were best friends, you never hid anything from each other.
"What is it? Come on, don't leave me hanging, sunshine."
You were chewing on your bottom lip, hesitant smile sparking on your face when you looked up to finally meet his worried gaze.
"I have a date tonight."
Shit.
Eddie halted his footsteps in the hallway, eyes wide and unblinking as the words soaked in, heart beginning to crack and fill with dread at the announcement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that you were well desired, he knew that you were gorgeous, he knew that it was only a matter of time before you'd had a proper date and a first kiss.
But he didn't think that day was going to be today.
And to add salt to injury, it had to be on a day where it was routine for you to come over to his place to watch a shitty VHS tape over popcorn and pizza. He loved Friday movie nights. It got him through late nights studying subjects he couldn't care less about, a distraction to hold on to as a cheerleader jeered at him or a jock roughly rustled into him by the parking lot.
"Oh. Uh, nice! Who asked you out?" Eddie had tried to come off as if he'd been unaffected, as if there wasn't now a sinking, clawing sensation in his stomach and his heart wasn't filling with black tar. His efforts to keep his face neutral and voice light paid off, as you visibly relaxed, slow grin quirking up the edges of your lips.
"Tyler."
"Tyler? As in, Tyler Peterson?" he'd spluttered in disbelief: Tyler was the complete opposite of Eddie. A muscular blonde and head of the basketball team, he was a senior with a large group of friends and a penthouse in the upper side of Hawkins. Rich, undeniably attractive and popular, the stinging pain of insecurity was beginning to prick at Eddie's skin as your grin only widened.
"Yeah, that's him. Not gonna lie, I'm surprised that he'd ask me out-"
"You can't go out on a date with him." the metalhead had quickly cut in, making you cock your head in confusion.
"Why... not?"
"Because!" Eddie shouted, his mind scrambling to find an excuse. Because in reality, it made sense that two of the most popular and attractive people in Hawkins High would go on a date. "He's a senior and you're a sophomore, yeah. It's creepy."
You stuck your tongue out at him.
"Ugh, moonshine, grow up. He's still 17 and I'm about to turn 16 in two weeks. It's not like we're breaking the law." you flicked him in the forehead, playful smirk on your lips before you continued to walk down the hallway, Eddie's footsteps quickly following behind you.
"Still! That's like, gross."
"Listen, I'm really sorry about cancelling our Friday movie night, I know you look forward to them as much as I do." you sighed, turning on your heel to stare up at him. "I'll make it up to you, okay? But I really like Tyler and I wanna give this a shot, Eddie. I mean, for fucks sake-"
You quickly looked around the vacant hallways before leaning over to whisper.
"I haven't even had a proper first kiss yet."
Eddie chose to ignore how the first thought in his mind was a sly comment - "we could kiss right now and get it out the way" - and he consciously chose instead to lower his defences, shoulders shrugging downwards at your strict tone and persistent gaze.After all, if Eddie knew anything about you, it was that you were stubborn and once you set your mind to something, he couldn't talk you out of it.
Besides, the logical voice in his mind now reprimanded him, he didn't own you. You weren't his. He'd had plenty of chances to make a move on you, to push you two over the line of friendship into love, a whole nine years in fact. And he'd never done anything. And it was selfish and unreasonable for him to want to keep you all to himself, away from other boys who also noticed your attractiveness.
You were akin to a siren, Eddie thought. Sweet voice, perfect features, alluring aura that enticed people towards you. Damn your attractiveness.
"Okay, fine. I'll leave the front door unlocked though in case you still wanna swing by afterwards."
"Aw, thanks, handsome." you'd teased, elbowing him on the side. The contact burned Eddie through his clothes, skin still tingling with hot jealousy, which he quickly distracted himself from by changing the subject to something irrelevant.
Eddie was left to sulk by himself by the sofa that night, and he was eternally grateful that Wayne was working out of state that weekend so as to not see the plight of his nephew moping around in the house alone. It undoubtedly would've resulted with Wayne grunting, placing his hands on his hips, cigarette loosely dangling from his lips as he'd ask: "where's (Y/n)?"
He didn't need any additional salt in the wound, Eddie thought.
Eddie had practically memorized every detail of Poltergeist at this point, the exact dialogue exchanged, when the jump scares occurred, when a character was going to be killed - but it was far less fun when you weren't sitting next to him, narrating out loud and giggling at his dumb jokes.
This sucked. It really, really sucked - especially since he knew that you were out probably holding hands with and leaning your head against that popular blonde, the complete antithesis to Eddie. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, Eddie just wished that he could simply melt away, the stabbing feeling of jealousy never once leaving him.
Then he heard someone knock on the door. You had opened it and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest as if you'd just been swinging by casually as planned.
"Hey." you'd offered, student president jacket draped over your shoulders, form fitting jeans hugging your thighs. "Can I come in?"
"Y-yeah." he'd muttered out, dazed, mind whirling with the million possibilities that could've led you to his trailer. After all, when he'd said you could still swing by after the date, he didn't think you would actually take the offer. Eddie figured you'd end up being driven home in Tyler's porsche or end up at the blonde's place instead, clothes discarded on his expensive penthouse bedroom floor.
"D-did you even go on the date?" Eddie spluttered, bewildered, shifting over to make space for you. Your expression soured at that, nose crinkling at the top, lips puckering.
"I did, but... it was a total bust. Turns out, we don't have much in common."
"Really?" It was impossible to hide the complete shock from his tone, in response to which you turned around and raised your eyebrows, challenging him.
"What?"
Eddie shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head sideways simultaneously.
"I don't know, I just figured... you're both popular, attractive and outgoing people. Would seem like it'd be a perfect match on paper."
"Eh. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Our sense of humor totally didn't match. And honestly?" you paused, giggling softly before continuning. "Everything he said and did annoyed me. Like somehow he was the amalgamation of every flaw and quirk I hate in a person."
"Yeah?" Eddie hid his smile of pride and relief behind his hands, as you snatched the popcorn bowl from his lap and popped a kernel into your mouth.
"Yeah. So I called the date off short."
"What'd you tell him?"
"The truth, duh. That he's a nice guy but we're a total mismatch. He tried to argue otherwise, grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his car, but I just stared back and told him it was clear he was still in love with his ex anyways so he should probably just chase her."
"Huh." was all Eddie can offer in response as you flashed him another comforting grin and leaned back into the couch cushions, body loosening as your gaze fixated on the blue screen ahead.
Eddie stared down at his hands before back up to you, admiring how flickers of blue and red light passed over your face as another gruesome scene played, your jaw carved by the contrast of shadow and light dancing on your face.
It was a sight Eddie had seen a million times, but it never failed to make his heart race.
"Sorry that the date didn't work out." he whispered into the night, knees brushing up against yours.
He didn't mean it, at all.
You looked down at him with a lazy grin, shrugging your shoulders.
"Don't be, moonshine. Cause the date led me back here, didn't it? So it wasn't a total bust."
His heart fluttered at that, electricity tingling at his finger tips, as you then shuffled closer towards him to throw a blanket over both your laps. Your head on his shoulder, knees weighing against his lap as you leaned against him, all Eddie could do was nod in response.
"Definitely not."
Perhaps Eddie would be okay with you going on dates - so long as it meant more nights like this.
------------------------------------------------
58: your "i'm thinking hard" face. I don't think you realize you do it, but when you're really concentrating on something, your eyes glaze over and lighten and you pout your lips. I love that sight.
"What're you working on?"
You looked up upon hearing Eddie's muffled question, his lips preoccupied with a large muffin as you scowled and brushed away the spare crumbs from your desk. He had insisted on coming over and "helping you" study for the senior finals, which in Eddie's terminology really meant stealing snacks from your cupboard and trying to distract you as you worked.
"Senior prom planning." you'd responded, dropping your pencil onto the desk and rubbing your forehead with your fingers to soothe the stress. "It's taking fucking forever too. There's like, a million things to still work out before next Friday."
Right, the prom. Eddie remembered seeing all the obnoxiously colorful decorations around school advertising the event, alongside the countless cheesy promposals he'd been a witness to involuntarily.
Eddie didn't have an immediate response to that, so you returned your attention to the stack of papers, your face entering a trance like zone he recognized as concentration. It evened out your features perfectly and even your slightest reflexes - biting down on the edge of a wooden pencil or flicking the square corners of the pages with your delicate fingers - made you so attractive to him.
"Well, if you're planning it, I know it's gonna be fantastic." he had offered in consolation.
"You're not going?" you whipped your head back to stare at him, shocked, to which Eddie only shrugged his shoulders.
"Never been my scene. You have fun though, yeah?"
"But it's our final year!" you insisted.
"Your final year." he reminded you, his eyebrows crinkling in disgust. I have to repeat again."
You waved his comment off, abandoning your stack of papers and stationery by your desk before sitting next to him on your bed, fierce determined look on your face.
"Eddie, it's not just any dance this year. It's senior prom! One that I worked really hard on! And don't make an excuse and say that your other friends aren't going, literally everyone bought tickets - even the science geeks."
Damn, there went his excuse, thought Eddie. Your pleading gaze was heavy on his shoulders, teeth gnawing his bottom lips as he mulled over it, head turning fuzzy when you reached over and placed your hand on his lap.
"Come on, moonshine. Please? For me?"
He swore you had the ability to hypnotize people. It was the only logical explanation for when you fluttered your eyelashes and left delicate touches on his skin, Eddie's mind blanked and he wordlessly agreed to any of your suggestions. Prom and Eddie did not mix, at all, from the popular kids winning titles to the wearing of suits and cheesy slow dances, but when you were asking him....
"Come on.... I'll even save a dance for you." you had said quietly, voice dripping with undeniable affection.
"Fine." Eddie surrendered, accepting the pink paper ticket you dug out from your bag, your fingers brushing against his when he took the slip of paper from your grasp.
Then once Eddie got back to his trailer, he stared at the ticket for a few minutes in the dark, an odd stirring sensation settling in his stomach. He'd been your best friend for 11 years at this point. You were about to graduate. He was about to repeat senior year.
Next year would be the first year he wouldn't be spending every moment with you.
The panic that filled his throat was foreign, chest feeling as if an elephant was standing on top his body, prickly stabbing sensations in his lower abdomen. Staring at the pink slip of paper, Eddie turned the ticket over by the window, watching how the font of the words 'senior prom' flickered and changed under the pale moonlight.
Eddie had to tell you.
If there was any day to tell you that he loved you, that he wanted something more, it would have to be on prom night.
Letting out a shaky exhale, Eddie carefully tucked the ticket underneath a set of magazines on his desk, before forcing himself to drift off to sleep.
Prom came in a flash. Wayne had gone the extra mile of driving to the town next over to rent a proper suit for him, the velvet fabric and square shoulders fitting his figure nicely. But Eddie didn't recognize himself in this sort of attire - he was still pulling at stray hems and ruffling with the edges of the fabric in the mirror when he'd realize that he'd wasted twenty minutes just staring at himself.
"Shit."
His plan was to seek you out the moment he arrived, but the gymnasium was packed with people - a flurry of glittery fabrics and bright party lights, blue and purple balloons tied to the ivory white chairs and tables, fairy string lights intertwined with satin curtains. He'd bumped into his science club friends and before he knew it, he was practically pinned to be by their side, the sea of unfamiliar faces blocking you from view.
He caught the sight of you a full hour and a half into the dance, a brief glimpse of white velvet fabric as you easily walked through the crowd greeting people, before you disappeared from sight again. Eddie was already beginning to excuse himself from his friend group when static rang out from the stage, and the principal announced that it was time to read the results for the prom title crownings.
It was only when the party had completely died down - crushed coke cans and rumpled party banners on the floor, a slow forgettable song flowing from the speakers, half-eaten paper plates stacked on top of stained tablecloths - that he was able to approach you. You were mid-conversation with the principal, probably exchanging pleasantries as the balding man applauded your effort and all your service the past four years, before you turned and your bright eyes drooped in exhaustion.
They lightened up, however, when they landed on his figure, and you excitedly waved at him.
"There you are! Had a great time?" you questioned, excited to hear his response.
"Yeah! Shame we just uh, didn't get our dance." Eddie awkwardly added, hoping to mask his disappointment. The cleaning team had already begun to take the decorations down, the music club tidying up the DJ booth on the stage behind you.
"We can still have our dance, silly. Follow me."
You quietly led him out to the parking lot, which was now completely abandoned save for the few empty vehicles and black streetlights. Leading Eddie over to your car, you opened the front seat and dug out your Walkman from your bag. Checking which cassette was in, you grinned, pressing play and placing the player on the roof of your car.
"Come on, I don't bite." you'd joked, noticing how Eddie had seemingly tensed up as the music began to flow and you placed arm over his neck. He nodded, a weak smile on his face, before he carefully put his two hands on your waist, gently swaying to the romantic melodies of Ella Fitzgerald.
"You alright?" you asked, noticing that he wasn't making any eye contact with you, his brown orbs instead choosing to focus on how his feet shuffled on the pavement next to yours.
"Y-yeah." he breathed out, glancing up for a brief moment. "It's just-"
He paused. You looked ethereal. Even in the dull, harsh yellow light of the street lamps, you carried an almost golden glow, your facial features only seemingly complimented by the night sky. He swore he could count every individual star in the sky in your eyes, your French perfume washing over him in waves, clouding his senses like toxic smoke.
"We've been friends since we were 7." Eddie slowly started out as you laughed quietly, shaking your head in affirmation.
"Yeah. Nearly 11 years, crazy, huh?"
"Y-yeah. And I've been thinking, since this is our last year together in Hawkins before you go off to university, I should be... honest with you."
You frowned at that, your grin dropping for a fraction of a second before a curious smirk replaced it.
"You telling me you haven't been honest with me?"
"Not like that! But, I realized something. It's something I've been thinking about for, uh, a while, and maybe I should've said earlier but there never seemed to be a good time."
He was practically shaking with nerves, throat closing up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He could tell that you could sense his sudden anxiety, the way his breath stopped coming out in regular intervals and his shoulders tensed as if bracing for impact.
"What is it, Eddie?"
This was it. He took in a deep breath, looked you right in the eyes, and opened his mouth, "I love you" on the tip of his tongue-
"(Y/n)! You want any sides with your pizza?" another voice rang out from the car two spots down, from a blue BMW belonging to a student none other than Steve Harrington.
Fuck.
Eddie knew of Steve. They weren't friends, hardly acquaintances. But he knew that Steve was everything Eddie wasn't: popular, charming, star basketball player, adored by everyone, Hawkins royalty. Now that Eddie thought about it, he'd vaguely seen you and Steve talking in between classes and after basketball games - just catching up on random things, you'd insisted, just two close friends.
Now Eddie wasn't too sure how true that statement was.
"Just pizza is fine, thanks! But maybe some soda?" you shouted over, breaking away from Eddie for a moment, and he cursed himself for how he instantly missed your warm arms being wrapped around him. Steve flashed you a thumbs up from his driver's seat before driving into the night, leaving Eddie to stare at you with baited curiosity.
"You're... going off to Harrington's?"
"Yeah! His parents are out of town and he just got the sickest television - like the newest model - and a few VHS tapes rented out. He also helped out the most with the prom whilst I was planning it, so I offered to pay for pizza when he asked if I wanted to come over for movie night."
Red hot flashes of anger blinded Eddie's vision for a second, before it was replaced by crushing sadness - you were going over to Steve Harrington's. Alone. After prom. To watch a movie.
Something you two did all the time.
Eddie was trying his best to keep his face neutral, to prevent the devastating realization that he'd waited too long to confess his love to weigh down his smile. His efforts seemed to pay off, as the small smile on your face never faded, before you shook those thoughts off and stared up at Eddie innocently.
"Anyways, you wanted to... tell me something?"
Suddenly, Eddie hated the song that was playing in the background - Dream a Little Dream of Me - and his throat ran dry.
"Yeah. Just... once you leave, can I use your cafeteria card?"
Chuckling, you nodded, still completely blind to how devastated Eddie was internally.
"Sure, Eddie. Really, that was what you were so scared to ask me about?"
'No.' he responded automatically, internally.
"Yeah. I know, it's kinda dumb, but I just wasn't sure if the school president would be willing to bend the rules for me a bit." he teased, mock smile on his lips, elbowing you on the side. You shoved him off playfully.
"Please, I'd do anything for you, Eds. You're my best friend."
The words felt bitter on his tongue now, mouth filling with sour tones, but he nonetheless forced himself to smile at you warmly.
The moonlight was blinding him.
-----------------------------------------
66: your drunken ramblings. I swear, when you're drunk, you become a total clumsy, reckless mess. It's hilarious but also concerning, if I'm being honest. No wonder Robin is always playing the sober driver around you.
The first year without you was brutal, Eddie found.
He'd made a few new friends after your departure to Boston, boys who were equally obsessed with fictional universes and fantasy roleplaying as him - Jeff and Gareth, with whom he created the 'Hellfire Club' with - and he'd joined Corroded Coffin as a guitarist.
Anything to fill the void, now that you were no longer here.
On a good month, you'd be able to call him on a Sunday late at night to fill Eddie in on how you were adjusting to university life. He'd listen to you ramble about anything - your course, your new friends, how hectic and busy and off putting you found the bustling city - with a lovesick grin on his face, imagining in his mind how you'd scrunch up your face and toy with the telephone chord with your fingers during the conversation.
"You always let me talk too much on these catch up calls." you'd once teased, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to tell me to shut up at any time."
"Never." Eddie had insisted, sitting up straight. He'd never get tired of listening to your sweet voice from half away across the country.
But there were many more months where neither of you could call - exam seasons, holidays spent apart, the fact that you lived by a university schedule and Eddie still went by a high school one. And though Eddie was beginning to adjust nicely to his new group of friends and was determined to graduate on his second try, nothing quite filled the gaping hole in his heart left by your absence.
So when you'd finally come back for summer break, Eddie basically refused to leave you alone. On the second week upon your return, you'd showed up at his trailer with an interesting proposition.
"You remember Amber? Head cheerleader our final year together?"
Eddie shook his head, biting down the truth which was that he had no idea who you were talking about.
"Well, I got an invitation to her engagement party and I can bring a plus one. Wanna... come with me?"
Had anyone else asked Eddie, he would've said no in a heartbeat. But he was starved of your presence, having missed you for a whole year, and how could he say no to you now when you were in front of him? Breathing, real, smiling so prettily, asking for him to spend a whole day with you?
"Sure."
Eddie semi-regretted it later on when you two actually drove up to the party later that night.
"I hate parties." Eddie groaned into his half-empty beer bottle, leaning against the balcony whilst Robin just shot him an amused grin, having been invited as a plus one to Steve.
"Then why'd you come?" she pressed, pink lips wrapping around an half empty wine bottle. The answer was simple, really - Eddie had come for you.
Otherwise, he truly couldn't care less about attending a fancy engagement party on the upper east side of Hawkins. Houses lined with white picket fences, expensive cars parked by marble driveways, huge penthouses with glazed windows and arched ceilings.
"You came for (L/n), right?" the brunette teased, licking her lower lips to catch the stray drops of alcohol dancing on her tongue.
"I guess so, yeah." he'd confessed, dropping his gaze to the floor.
"... When are you just gonna come out and say it?" Robin had then questioned, placing her hands on her hips, as if she was a parent scolding a child. "Seriously, Steve and I have placed bets since sophomore year and we're still sore losers at this point because neither of us have won our bets."
Eddie sighed, eyes flicking up to look into the large living room filled with sweaty bodies dancing to the loud house music, his eyes easily being able to scan the crowd to narrow in on your figure. You were twirling Steve around in a dramatic manner, almost making the boy bump into the table of food and topple over a stack of cupcakes, to which you quickly shouted out an apology and Steve began to laugh uncontrollably.
"It's not that simple, Buckley."
"Uh, it's very simple, Munson." she dragged out her sentence in a dramatic fashion, leaning against the balcony with one arm propped up as she looked him up and down. "You ask to go somewhere private. You say "I've loved you since we were 7." You two kiss and start to date."
She counted off of her fingers one by one as if crossing off a hypothetical list, before smiling at the metalhead. Eddie just scowled at that - god, none of his friends knew just how hard it was for him.
"It's not just... that. Like it's one thing that I've kept this a secret for over a decade now."
"Then what's stopping you?"
Eddie paused. He'd never confessed this to anyone before, he realized, staring up at his friend's curious face. He'd kept his insecure thoughts close to his chest, afraid of letting any of them see the light of day, afraid of the judgment he'd call upon himself upon being vulnerable.
But hell, what did he have to lose?
"I just don't know if... I'm good enough."
"What'd you mean?"
"Like... I've always been the outsider. The weirdo looking in. Sunshine's not like that. Popular, extroverted, outgoing, friendly - good at everything, loved by everyone. Even though we've been best friends for over a decade now, I've always felt as if... (Y/n)'s out of reach from me. I don't think I'd really be able to match up to someone like that."
Robin's smile faded into an expression of sympathy, which Eddie flashed her a grateful smile in response, her left hand then springing up to clasp onto his shoulder.
"Shit, Eddie... That's heavy. I had no idea."
Eddie wasn't quite sure if he appreciated or loathed the sorry smile on her face.
"Yeah, well, it's whatever. Just how things are, I guess."
Robin opened her mouth to object when you and Steve messily cut into the conversation, you practically tripping on your feet with how drunk you were, the sting of alcohol wafting off of you in waves.
"I've had seven shots of vodka." you proudly announced, steadying yourself against Eddie's shoulders by shakily grasping his body. He had to steady you upright as you toppled over on a step you didn't see, his sturdy arms hooking underneath your shaky arms. "Oops."
"Jokes on you, I've had eight." Steve countered, swaying from side to side, leaning on Robin who only rolled her eyes playfully and shoved him off.
"You alright?" Eddie whispered underneath Robin and Steve's loud bickering, brushing away stray strands of hair from your glazed over eyes. You nodded, humming lowly, before your bottom lip protruded in a pout.
"Mmhmm. I need more vodka though."
"Oh no you don't-" Eddie had to physically drag your body out of reach from the stacks of vodka bottles decorating the main table, your small frown quickly displaced by a mopey grin as you buried your drunken head into the pit of his arm. "I'm taking you home."
"I don't need to go home, I just need to sober up a bit!" you'd insisted, pushing away from Eddie, flailing your arms around. "Come on, the cake hasn't even been brought out yet, and I promised Amber I'd stick around till then."
"Fine." Eddie set his red solo cup down by the wooden railings, before decisively grabbing your left hand in his. "We're going for a walk to sober up then, okay?"
"Okay."
It was a chilly summer evening, green leaves and stray weeds crunching underneath his boots as you stumbled behind him, your warm hands a stark contrast from Eddie's cold ones. He could feel his metal rings shift against your skin as you swayed your linked arms together back and forth like a child, wide smile on your lips.
"Sobering up?" he'd teased, shooting you an amused grin in the dark, the empty streets illuminated only by the flickering yellow streetlights, the crescent moon hidden behind a fog of clouds.
"Hardly." you grumbled.
"Guess we need to walk a bit more."
Eventually, the two of you stumbled across an empty playground, and before Eddie could talk you out of it you'd decided to make a run towards the seesaw, forcing him to follow behind you closely.
"(Y/n)-"
"Sit, Eddie." you'd instructed, pushing down on his shoulders to force him down on one side. "Please, Eddie? Like the old times?"
Eddie smiled at that - it felt just like yesterday that Eddie was seven, red flushed face peeking underneath half-formed head of curls, clutching onto the seesaw in the school playground. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he pretended to surrender into it, sitting down on to the wooden plank.
That somehow devolved into chasing you around the playground: pushing you down the slide, racing you to the top of the monkey bars, spinning you on the merry-go-round until you physically couldn't breathe anymore from how hard you were laughing. Eddie was no different, eyes tearing up as he fell onto the trampoline next to you, heavy breaths meeting the cold air as he tried to regain his breath.
"So much for a quick walk." he'd muttered, staring up at the few stars twinkling above.
"Did the job of sobering me up a bit though." you countered. "And plus, you can't tell me that playgrounds aren't real fucking fun. Even if we're adults."
"Not denying that, sunshine."
You turned over to stare at him, face a few inches from his, and there was a certain glint in your eyes that he couldn't quite read. Hint of a smile on your dry lips, your hands came up underneath your head to support it, fabric rustling as you adjusted your posture.
"It's crazy, isn't it? We're now at a age where our friends are getting fucking engaged."
"It's mental, yeah."
"... You ever think you'd want to get married? Like Amber?" you raised your eyebrows, voice half serious but half playful. His immediate answer - that he often thought about marriage with you - passed by his mind like a bullet train before he quickly replaced it with a safer answer.
"I'd like to think so, eventually, yeah. What about you?"
You hummed.
"Not sure. I'm a bit scared by the whole 'life commitment' aspect of it. I think the only person I've been able to tolerate my whole life has been like, you. Funny, huh?" you'd joked, sitting up right, as Eddie did the same.
His heart was pounding at a million beats per minute, your innocuous comment sparking electricity in his veins, but he had to remind himself instantly: you didn't mean anything by it.
"Yeah, funny."
Once returning to the party, Eddie found that the rest of the party participants had devolved into a game of truth or dare and spin the bottle. He'd participated in the latter, semi-half heartedly, at your insistence. All was fine until the beer bottle landed on you, and the person to your left announced that you had to kiss whoever you knew for the longest in the circle.
You'd done the unthinkable to Eddie, simply turning towards him, grabbing his face and giving him a fierce, wet kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had all the girls screaming in excitement and all the boys hollering with whistles, the kind that made Eddie break out in red flushes of embarrassment, mouth still tingling with the aftertaste of vodka and your honey chapstick when you pulled away.
"Didn't wanna lose, sorry Eds." you'd commented against his lips, flashing him a wink. He would've given you a joking comment in response, but his mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, mind still catching up with what had just happened.
It was a joke. You were drunk.
But damn, Eddie wanted to have your lips on his again.
----------------------------------------------
83: you're an absolute whiz with the kids. Not just Henderson, the whole gang. Sometimes, I think they like you more than me - which I can't be offended by either. I like you more than me.
Second year without you in Hawkins.
Eddie was repeating senior year again.
God, it sucked. There were only so many late night calls and hastily written letters he could exchange with you before he went mad. He swore it had become a nightly ritual to stare at his house phone and to check his calendar each morning, counting down every day before any major holiday during which you might return to Hawkins.
You'd missed Christmas last year due to a research project and you'd similarily chose to spent Easter in Boston, leaving Eddie bored and a bit lonely. Sure, Eddie had gotten used to Hawkins High at this point. Hell, he'd started to revel in being the weirdo, the outcast, of purposefully pissing off the popular kids.
But it never got easy missing you.
It was a boring Tuesday morning. Eddie was thinking of anything in particular, eyes still laden with fatigue and his head still stuck in his semi-dreamlike state, when he'd stumbled over to his trailer door and swung it open.
But you were waiting for him on the other side, in a pair of blue jeans and a warm maroon university sweatshirt covering your figure, your arms outstretched for a hug.
"SURPRISE!"
He blinked at you silently like a deer in headlights, to which you chuckled nervously and lowered your arms slightly.
"Oh. Did I-"
Eddie didn't let you finish your sentence before he basically pummeled into you, wrapping his sturdy arms around your waist, squeezing you so tight that you couldn't breathe as he mumbled his next words against your neck.
"Holy shit, I missed you so much." his voice was wavering the slightest bit, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes which he rapidly blinked away before you could see them form properly.
"I missed you so much too, moonshine." you replied softly, voice tinged with adoration and fondness.
"H-how, or I guess, why are you here?"
"I got a day off earlier than I thought on my research project and I don't have any plans for the weekend so... figured I'd swing by Hawkins!"
"Swing by? You're not staying?" Eddie's smile fell by a fraction.
"I'm only here for a day before I'm flying back - I have to start preparing for midterms, plus I told one of my friends back in Boston that I'd help her move."
"Well." Eddie had teased, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, his other hand dangling the keys to his van. "Guess we gotta make the most of these 24 hours, huh?"
His first stop was to take you to the diner you were obsessed with, a small red and white colored establishment hidden behind the gas station that served the best french fries and milkshake you swore you'd ever tasted.
"God, I've missed this." you groaned, taking a light sip of the frothy dessert. "This is why I came back, actually." you joked, making him pout like a petulant child.
"You're mean."
"Eh. You like it."
His smile was automatic - he was just too happy to be in your company again, to see how your cheeks dimpled with a smile, to hear your lively voice right by his ears.
"I do."
The next stop was decided by you to be the arcade. Impatient at how slowly Eddie was walking, you grabbed his left hand to tug him along, making him chuckle at how excited you seemed to be over a couple of video games.
"(Y/n)?" a small, quiet voice rang out, stealing your attention away from Eddie and making you drop his hand.
"DUSTY!!!"
You eagerly waved over the curly haired boy whose face lit up in a wide grin at the sight of you, before he stumbled over and hugged you fiercely, awed expression marking his face.
"I thought you'd still in Boston!"
"I am! I'm just back for the day."
"Cool! Who's this?" Dustin had asked, pointing at Eddie, semi-frown etched on his face. Eddie had to suppress a scowl at that, as well as swallowing a harsh "get lost." He had no idea who this middle school kid was, but he already didn't like that (a) this kid had taken your attention away from Eddie and (b) now the boy was cutting into your one day back in Hawkins with Eddie.
"Oh right, this is Eddie, my best friend! Eddie, this is Dustin, one of the kids I used to babysit."
"Nice to meet you." Eddie had forced out, attempting to give the younger boy a reassuring grin. The faux smile didn't seem to work on Dustin, who only scrunched up his face in response, his sour expression melting away into a warm one the moment his eyes met back up with yours.
"Speaking of babysitting, I hope Steve's been treating you well." you teased, ruffling Dustin's hair. The younger boy sighed dramatically at that.
"I wish. In fact, Harrington's supposed to be 'watching me' here at the arcade - in reality, he's here to flirt with her."
You looked over to where he was pointing to see Steve leaning over the counter of the arcade, coy smirk on his face as he clearly tried to charm a pretty blonde girl.
"Tragic. I see his flirting skills haven't improved." you teased, making Dustin chuckle as well. "Hey, remember when you thought Steve and I were dating?" you looked back at Eddie, wiggling your eyebrows.
Eddie flushed red with embarrassment at that, whilst the younger boy's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"You two DATED?"
"No, Dusty, never. But this silly man over here-" you elbowed Eddie, and he shoved you off quickly with a small scowl on his face. "Thought that Steve and I were an item at one point. Senior year, in fact. As if Steve's not like the big brother I never had."
"You two do fight like siblings." Dustin added, and your smirk only widened. "Speaking of Steve, uh, since he's basically ditched me for the blonde - can I hang out with you for the rest of the day? Please?"
"Of course you can!" you exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. "It's okay if Dustin joins us, right?" you'd asked Eddie, turning around to smile at him.
Eddie wanted to say no. The word was begging to be let out from his lips, sitting heavy on his tongue, but when you flashed him that hopeful glance and that damn kid gave him his puppy dog eyes (damn, Dustin was good at that), Eddie couldn't bear to be the bad guy and deny the invitation.
"Yeah, of course. Come on in, kid."
Eddie eventually loosened up to Dustin's presence over the night - the first hour or so he sulked in the background, feeling like a third wheel to your inside jokes and excited conversations with the boy, until you left to go to the bathroom. Eddie was leaning against the railings with Dustin sitting cross legged on the floor, before the boy picked his head up and pointed to Eddie's shirt.
"What's Hellfire?"
Eddie scoffed.
"You wouldn't get it, kid."
"Uh, I'm about to be a freshman next year, I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Come on, I wanna know."
"It's like a... club I started. Where we play games."
"What kind of games? Like Defender and Tron?" the young boy's question was so genuine, expression so innocent and full of wonder, that Eddie couldn't help but laugh a bit and let his guard down.
"No, no. It's called Dungeons and Dragons, D&D for short. It's like a roleplaying game."
Dustin continued to stare at the metalhead, peeking upwards to silently urge him to go on, and within minutes, Eddie was telling the curly haired boy everything he had to know about D&D. To his surprise, Dustin's attention never once wavered, only interrupting Eddie to ask questions and to press him further for more information.
"Aw man, that sounds so cool! I wish I could play right now." Dustin stated, eyes wide with awe.
"Well, Hellfire Club is open to any Hawkins High student - once you're a freshman next year, you and your friends are all welcome to join."
"Really?"
"Yeah dude! More the merrier, right?"
"Oh, awesome!"
"Did I miss something?" you'd joked, wiping your hands on the knee pads of your jeans, eyes flickering between the two excitable boys. You'd clearly missed a bonding moment between them, it seemed, and it warmed your heart to see your best friend and Dustin get along so well in your absence.
"Eddie just told me about D&D and said I could join his club next year! Isn't that cool?" Dustin rambled, tugging at your sleeves. You chuckled, nodding.
"That's very cool, Dustin. Now come on, I'm pretty sure I'm still better than you at Centipede and I want to prove it."
Night settled into Hawkins quickly, dark black skies covering the streets as you ushered Dustin into the back of Eddie's van, refusing to let him cycle back home in the dark. Eddie had to stop at a gas station for a brief moment, and you stopped him from getting out, waving your wallet in your right hand.
"Stay. I'll cover gas."
"And can you pick up some beef jerky too? Please?" Dustin asked from the back, jostling up and down from his seat. You chuckled at his antics, unstrapping your seat belt.
"Sure, Dusty. I'll be right back, okay?"
Once you shut the door and your figure disappeared behind the bright lights of the gas station store, Dustin spoke up.
"How long have you been crushing on (Y/n)?"
"WHAT?" Eddie had spluttered out, choking on air as he coughed repeatedly to let air back into his lungs. Dustin just shook his head sideways at that, clicking his tongue against the roof his mouth.
"Come on, dude, it's obvious. How long have you been pining after my babysitter? A year?"
Silence.
"Three years?"
Silence.
"MORE THAN FIVE YEARS?" Dustin shouted out, surprised. Eddie bit his lower lip, before the admission fell out with a heavy sigh.
"More like twelve."
"TWELVE?"
Eddie quickly turned around from his seat up front, twisting his upper body to glare at the younger boy.
"Yeah, 12 years, anyways, that's not that important. How the hell did you know?"
The curly haired boy just shrugged, smiling smugly as if it was common knowledge and Eddie was the idiot for not figuring it out.
"You were glaring daggers into Steve's head when he accidentally touched hands with (Y/n) whilst they were talking. Oh, and you won't stop staring. And smiling. And subtledly flirting. And you have that lovesick grin on your face that Lucas gets for Max or Mike gets for El."
"I don't know who those people are." Eddie had countered.
"They're my friends - whatever, it's not important. The point is, Eddie, you look at my babysitter the same way my friends look at their girlfriends."
The heated conversation was cut off short by you reappearing by the driver's window, the metal door swinging open as you waved the beef jerky packet over your head before tossing it to Dustin in the back seat.
"Gas has been taken care of and here is your jerky, Dustin. Ready to go?" you asked cheerily, totally oblivious to the conversation you've just missed between the two boys. Innocent smiles on both their faces, both boys nodded silently, though Dustin flashed Eddie a sly smirk in the rearview mirror.
"Where to next?" Eddie teased once Dustin had been dropped off.
"My house, please. I need to pick up my backpack before I head off to the airport, gotta use the phone to call a taxi too."
"Let me drive you." Eddie offered immediately, swallowing down his tired yawns. You frowned at that, worried.
"Are you sure? It's a bit of a long drive, Eds, and it's already kinda late at night-"
"Nonsense, sunshine. I'm driving you and that's final."
In reality, Eddie was trying to stretch out as much of his time with you as he could. He knew he had an early start tomorrow and he was feeling rather tired, but he'd be damned if he was going to lose out on an extra hour next to you by letting you take a taxi instead.
"Alright then." you smiled, nodding.
His van pulled up to the airport too quickly for Eddie's liking, his immature first thought being that he wanted to lock his car doors to prevent you from getting out.
"Take care of him for me, would you?" you'd asked once Eddie had driven you to the airport, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, fiddling with the clasps. "Him and all his friends, if you end up meeting them all next year as freshmen... They're all lovely kids. They could all use someone as amazing as you looking out for them."
His heart melted at your admission and he nodded automatically, slow grin appearing on his chapped lips.
"Of course. They're in safe hands."
"Thanks, Eds."
You stepped forward to give him one last hug, your face squished against his upper chest, and Eddie took his time to commit the feeling of your arms around him to memory.
All the loud noise - the intercom announcing flight details, the distant chatter of conversations from strangers, the shuffling of luggage and dragging of feet on the floor - dissipated into the background, his senses overwhelmed with one and only one thing.
You.
And how much he loved you.
"See you soon?" Eddied added hopefully once you two parted. He'd beg you to come back for at least Christmas, but that was never a given and he didn't want to be standing in the way of your career. You smiled back at him gently, patting his hands reassuringly.
"See you soon, moonshine."
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95: your bravery. I'll never forget how you handled finding out about the Upside Down. Whilst I wanted to run as far away from the monsters, you dived in headfirst. I was worried sick for you, you know. But I knew it was dumb of me to expect otherwise - you're the type of person willing to put your life on the line for your friends.
Eddie wished he'd seen you again in much better circumstances.
Not when he was repeating senior year for the third time and he was being hunted down by Jason Carver and the entire police department under suspicision for murder.
He immediately tensed when he heard footsteps and a crowd of voices ring out from the entrance of the lakehouse, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to remain as still as possible from his hiding spot. His mind was racing with an array of threats and worst case scenarios, his hands immediately reaching to the knife digging into his thigh.
"I'm telling you, Steve, things don't add up! Eddie would never kill someone."
He knew that voice. It was you. There was a rumbling amongst the group before the lakehouse fell back into the silence, save for soft padding of a single pair of feet against the wooden floor and the creaking of the front door.
"Eddie? You in here?"
Hesitant for a second but too eager to see you, he lifted his head slowly, dropping the knife back into his back pocket as he straightened up to meet you face to face. To his surprise, your face lacked any sign of judgment or disgust - instead, your eyes brightened with relief and you pulled him in to a bone crushing hug.
"Thank god you're okay! You are okay, right? You're not injured?" you frantically fired off one question after another, hands clutching his chin to lift his head up, eyes grazing over his entire figure scanning for any injuries. He smiled at that - the first genuine smile on his face in weeks - before gathering your hands up in his own and clasping them tight.
"I'm alright, sunshine. Don't worry. More importantly, why are you here?"
"Steve called."
"And?"
"Said you were in trouble. Suspcision for murder. I cancelled all my plans, lied about a family emergency and got here as fast as I could." you rambled, pausing for a moment to shoot him a look of shock. "By the way, did you know that the town is like connected to this hellish mirror universe called the Upside Down? And like there are these supernatural entities showing up threatening to break the very fabric of reality?"
"I don't know too much but based on what I saw with Chrissy, I'm... inclined to believe you more than not." Eddie responded, only to be cut off by Steve's voice from outside.
"YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, RIGHT? CAN WE COME IN NOW?"
You rolled your eyes at that.
"YES, STEVE, I'M ALIVE. They can all come in, right? I swear Steve and the kids can explain everything better than I can."
"Of course."
Eddie had a slightly easier time grasping everything than you - when you'd shot him an incredulous look he simply shrugged and smirked, insisting that it was akin to the many villains and monsters possible in D&D.
The day bled into night quickly and led to you, Nancy, Robin, Steve and Eddie standing by the edge of the lake whilst staring at a rickety wooden boat.
"I call shotgun." you yelled out, brustling past Eddie, only for him to grab your arm and yank you back.
"Uh, I don't think so. You're staying back."
"Says who?"
"Says me! Look, this is too dangerous, I'd rather you stick with the kids or at the very least just wait for us here."
The thought of you getting injured - his nightmares still haunted by what had happened to Chrissy in front of his eyes - made Eddie sick with dread and disgust, goosebumps rising against his skin.
"Tough shit, moonshine." you'd countered, undeterred. "I'm getting on that damn boat whether you want me to or not."
God, you were stubborn, Eddie cursed internally whilst running a hand down his face. He shot his friends standing behind you awkwardly a pleading look.
"Help me out here, guys, come on."
"... Hate to be that person, but if you're coming along then I don't see why (Y/n) can't." Robin added, shrugging her shoulders.
"Also, if this portal is underwater then it'd be good to have another great swimmer in the group." Steve chimed in, and you smirked at Eddie proudly.
"See? And I was varsity swimming captain all four years in high school. You're outnumbered, Eddie, now stop worrying so much."
Biting down his protests, Eddie gave in, though he made it a point to sit as close as he could to you should something go wrong.
And of course things went wrong - Steve got dragged in by an unseen force, you jumped in to the freezing waters right after him, so quick that Eddie hadn't even registered that you'd dived into the lake until the freezing cold waters splashed down onto his jeans.
Shit.
Black slime coating your fingers, grey ash dotting your eyebrows and crimson blood dripping from your coarse fingers, you were a terrifying sight to behold when Eddie saw you next. Clutching a carving knife strapped to your side, you were fearlessly cutting through the swarm of demon bats, saving Steve from potential death.
No, certain death, Eddie thought as you leaned down and helped Steve stand up on shaky legs. A twinge of jealousy stabbed at Eddie's chest at the sight of you shrugging off your jacket to wrap it around Steve's scarred torso, and Eddie couldn't help but think that Steve's hand lingered for too long on your back for it to just be friendly.
"Stop fuming at Steve, yeah? He did save our ass." Robin commented quietly from the side, smirking.
"Was not fuming at Harrington." was Eddie's weak response, to which Nancy and Robin only shot each other an amused glance. The girls ran to support Steve as Eddie walked right up to you, your eyes still on your muddied jeans as you wiped away the excess grime on the faded fabric.
"Hi again." you'd said nonchalantly. "Great weather we're having, huh?" you'd joked, wry smile on your dry lips.
Eddie couldn't believe you.
"You're impossible. And insane. Like actually, totally, insane." he'd responded, shaking his head sideways, awed and impressed.
Here you were - having just found out the truth about Hawkins and confronting a swarm of deadly supernatural creatures, covered in dirt, blood and ash - joking with him as if it was just another normal Wednesday. He didn't know whether to applaud you or scold you for your intense loyalty and bravery.
"You love it though." you stuck your tongue out at him, straightening up.
"I do." he'd said softly.
'And I love you.' was on the tip of his tongue.
But he swallowed it back, being grounded back to reality once Nancy called out to you two to catch up. Shaky feet almost slipping on dirtied grime and blood underneath, he figured there were much bigger things to worry about.
Much, much bigger things.
----------------------------------------
100: you.
Eddie used to think that that day was the most terrifying for him. Watching your body disappear under inky waters, running from demonic creatures, his fingers aching from repeatedly clenching around a metal baseball bat.
No, he's sure now that waiting for you to finish reading the letter is the most terrifying thing ever to have happened to him.
It's a painful and silent twenty minutes, during which he watches your lips quirk into fond smiles and silly frowns - he has to remind you repeatedly to continue reading, and to stop interrupting yourself to say something sentimental to him - all the whilst his heart beats so loud it drowns out the rain beginning to pour outside.
He figures you've finally reached the end when your expression suddenly twists into one of confusion, and you slowly look up at him through your lashes.
"Did you give up on the final point?" you joke, making Eddie frown.
"What'd you mean?"
"For number 100. You just wrote one word: 'you.' For all the other numbers, you wrote down more than that."
"Right." Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers together nonchalantly. He hopes the dim lighting in the room is masking his flushed cheeks, and that his voice is remaining as stable as he thinks it is in his head. "I told you I wrote a list of 100 things I love about you, right?"
"Yeah." you repeat back, still not grasping it.
God, he wonders, how could you be so bright yet so oblivious that he has to spell it out for you?
"All the other numbers combined, leading up to number 100. The thing I love the most about you is... that you're, uh, you." he slowly finishes.
Eddie's sentence hangs heavy in the air, atmosphere in the room suddenly sweltering hot and thick, your fingers slowly closing the envelope with your arms falling to your lap.
"... What are you saying?"
There was no going back.
"I love you."
There.
He'd said it.
Nearly 15 years of secret pining, of watching you date one guy after another whilst feigning disinterest, of being teased by all your mutual friends for his infatuation for you, of accepting your warm hugs and nightly cuddles as nothing but platonic...
All down to those three cursed words: i love you.
It's out in the open now, Eddie's stomach twisting with a tornado of emotions as he carefully tries to gauge your reaction. You're motionless, eyes wide and unblinking for a moment, your deft hands dropping the letter onto the bed.
"A-are... are you serious?" you squeak out.
Eddie suppresses a laugh at how shocked and in disbelief you seem to be.
"Well... yeah. Trust me, I wouldn't write 100 things I love about someone just for anyone."
You just nod at that, emotionless, eyes falling to your carpeted floor. He can't figure out what you're thinking, but it feels as if time is ticking by achingly slow and his lungs burn with anticipation with every beat of silence that passes in your bedroom.
It's killing Eddie, not knowing what you're thinking, and for a second he's worried that he's done for.
That he's destroyed your friendship, you're about to frown and tell him that you're sorry but you don't feel the same way. He opens his mouth to quickly begin to let out a string of apologies, preapred to swallow back all his words and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn't get to it.
He can't speak, he can't breathe, he can hardly process anything else other than the fact that your lips are now suddenly on his, your legs straddling his lap as you tackle him onto the mattress. Teeth clashing against teeth, it's desperate, his fingers gripping onto your waist tightly as your lips chase his.
He can taste the remnants of the buttercream frosting from your birthday cake, your lips pillowy and soft. He's kissed you once before, sure - that drunken kiss for the game of truth or dare - but nothing compares to this, the way his vision blinds in ivory white, finger tips buzzing with electricity, heart aflame with infatuation and lust at the way you growl and deepen the kiss.
"I love you too, Eddie." you reply afterwards, lips still swollen from the aftermath of the kiss.
"Really?"
It's his turn to be shocked, heart skipping at the amount of adoration and awe in your hoarse voice.
"Yeah. But w.... why didn't you say anything earlier?" you ask quietly, bewildered. Eddie laughs awkwardly at that, shrugging.
"That's the million dollar question, I guess. I don't know, I just... everyone loves you and wants you. You're so beautiful and talented and outgoing and I... I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to choose me." he mutters out hesitantly, scratching his neck, purposefully avoiding your gaze.
Eddie's a little embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting it now, knowing that you do indeed love him back, but it all melts away like ice in the summer heat when your fingers redirect his chin upwards to meet your gaze.
You're practically glowing with happiness, golden halo around your hairline.
"Always, Eddie. I'd always choose you."
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a/n: ANOTHER slow burn Eddie fic down! If you're actually read this right now and you read to the end = thank you. After the overwhelming love y'all gave me for 'you made me hate this city', I knew I had to add another fic to this collection. And ofc, Taylor is my fave artist of all time so it seemed only fitting i honor her with a fic.
SIGH so this fic ALMOST wasn't published. Like i really genuinely didn't know if I would end up posting this. I was (and still am) afraid of putting it out there lmao bc of its length and the unusual writing (like the flashbacks and letter structure), but alas.
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orphicdreamers-wp · 5 months
Text
25 To Life — Nico Hischier
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Summary: In which it’s Nico’s first birthday since you became a couple.
Content Warning; Fluff, age gap(reader is 23, Nico is 25)
Pairing: Gf Reader & Nico Hischier
You had managed to convince your boyfriend to go out with Jack today, pretending you forgot about it being his birthday. Jack kept him busy long enough for you and your best friend to set up Nico’s apartment for his birthday celebration the two of you were going to have that night. Nico had decided months earlier that he didn’t want to do a party or anything outrageous. He suggested a simple dinner and a movie night with you.
So you obliged, sort of. It was the wedding planner in you that was itching to decorate, also the new girlfriend in you. So you ordered twenty-five red helium heart shaped balloons, twenty-five white helium heart shaped balloons and twenty-five silver heart shaped balloons. You bought all the ingredients to make a three layer strawberry birthday cake. You decided to keep the heart theme going and cut the cake into a heart shape. You ended up with the most beautiful cake you iced in white buttercream icing and drew small red hearts all over it in red buttercream and wrote happy birthday across the top of the cake.
You made the dinner you had made Nico for your third date, pot roast with vegetables you had grown in your garden. You had told your best friend to go as Nico had texted you that he was on his way home. You had just finished hanging the happy birthday banner when the door opened and Nico entered his apartment. He smiled at you as you grinned, “Happy birthday baby.” Nico pulled you into his lap as he sat down on the couch, “Thank you for being you. I love this.” You smiled up at him, “It’s not too much? I didn’t want you to think I’m obsessed with your birthday. If it’s too much I can get rid of the balloons and stuff.” Nico pressed a kiss against your lips to shut you up, “Shut up and let me kiss you. It is my birthday after all.”
You huffed out lightly as Nico continued to kiss you. You pulled away to catch your breath, “Happy 25th Birthday old man.” Nico laughed, “I can’t wait to call you an old lady on your 25th.” You stuck your tongue out at him as you went to check on the food. You almost missed his last remark, “And forever.” You froze, “What?” Nico’s face paled only to beat red as you grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck, “You wanna be with me forever! Aww you big baby.” Nico grinned, “I would spend the rest of my life with you starting tomorrow. As long as you can still make a good pot roast.” You smacked him with the throw pillow beside him, “I love you. Happy birthday.”
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wooahaes · 25 days
Text
cake crumbles
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pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader
genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.
warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.
word count: 1.3k~
daisy's notes: he :( <3
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“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.” 
The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…
“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”
“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 
Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”
Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”
Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.
“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”
Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”
Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 
Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…
Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 
Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 
He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.
“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”
Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”
“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 
“I know, but…”
Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 
Jihoon could only hope that it would be.
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Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 
“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”
He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…
You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”
“You… know?”
“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”
Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”
With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 
Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”
“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”
Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 
Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.
“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 
All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”
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taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo
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kitten4sannie · 1 year
Text
𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇
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pairing: husband! san x fem! reader
genre: smut, fluff
summary: when san is forced to work overtime on your birthday, he wants to make up for it.
w.c: 4k
warnings: switch! san, pussydrunk san, switch! reader, praise, pet names, dirty talk, brief spit kink, begging, teasing, strength kink, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, crying, creampie, breeding kink, brief cockwarming
a/n: this is a birthday present for my lovely best friend nora @cheollipop ilysmmm <3
song recs: get you by daniel caesar, yeah i said it by rihanna, aphrodite by rini
Masterlist
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When San’s boss set a fresh stack of files on the desk inside his already cramped cubicle, San found himself opening his mouth to protest, “Sir, it’s already half past 8…Do you think I could possibly work on this tomorrow? It’s my wife’s birthday today, and I wanted to–” 
“San, San, San,” his boss interrupted with an air of arrogance, setting his hands down on the salaryman’s tense shoulders. “We all have to make sacrifices in this company, you know? You’re not the only one. I’m sure your wife will understand when she sees the extra dollar signs in your paycheck at the end of the week.”
San sat still in his swivel chair, not letting the rage seep past his eyes, envisioning all the ways he could retaliate against the older man standing above him. His hand nudged his stapler. He glanced at his favorite coffee-stained mug that you gave him; it had various adorable cats painted on the porcelain. It’d probably feel immensely satisfying to smash it into the man’s head, but he would never give it up in such a way. Violence was never the answer, of course. Though he was extremely tempted to just rip his computer away from its cords and toss it at the man, he wouldn’t. He needed this job, and he needed to get this sudden influx of work done so that he could get home to you.  
Eventually, San blinked up at the man, replying like a robot that had just been rebooted, “On it, boss.” 
“That’s lovely to hear. That’s why you’re my favorite employee, Sannie boy,” the man chimed, smacking San’s shoulder in an overly aggressive manner. 
Once San gave his boss a tight-lipped smile and a double thumbs up that turned into middle fingers as soon as the man turned his back, he pulled his phone out to dial your number. “Baby?” he mumbled out in an extremely soft voice as soon as you picked up. 
“Hey, hun,” you replied excitedly, sliding your phone into the space between your shoulder and your neck so that you could put your cake into the fridge, sticking a candle into it. “Are you on your way home? I picked up a red velvet cake for us to share. It’s got this really fancy buttercream and these little gold flakes sprinkled all over it. I asked the guy and it’s real 24k gold! Isn’t that cool?” Noticing the overwhelming silence in the receiver, you closed the fridge and pressed your back to it. “San, are you okay?”
Opening one of the files and staring down at the endless strings of text informing him of sales percentages and various investments from clientele, San sighed, “I have to work overtime, baby. That old bastard isn’t letting me leave until I get all this shit done. I’m…” Frustrated at his lack of control over the situation, he raked his fingers through his gelled-up hair, not even caring that some of the raven strands began to stick out. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m really, really sorry…” 
“San, it’s okay. It’s okay, love,” you said with a warmth that would hopefully give him some reassurance, hearing him let out a small sigh into your ear. “It’ll still be my birthday when you get back, okay? So just take a deep breath, get the work done, and come home to me.”
San opened a new document up on his computer to get started, slowly drawing air into his lungs and letting it out, smoothing his hair out a bit. He smooshed his cheek against his phone, allowing you to tell he was pouting when he answered as gently as possible, “I love you so much, baby. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can to tell you in person.”
Feeling a smile tug at your lips, you idly rolled your wedding ring around on your finger, grateful to have such a sweet angel of a man as your life partner. “I love you too, darling. I’ll see you soon.” Pushing your lips together, you lowered your phone to your mouth to add, “Mwah.”
“Mwah,” San returned instantaneously, a similar smile forming on his face, much more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago. Once you exchanged goodbyes, he gave his knuckles a good crack and admired his silver wedding band for a few seconds before getting to work.
-
It was a little past 11 when San finally pushed past the front door and slid out of his work shoes, meeting your gaze from across your shared apartment, seeing you sitting at the kitchen table by yourself with the cake positioned in front of you and a small lighter laying on the table. “Baby,” he let out in a sigh of relief, dropping his suitcase onto the floor and walking in your direction to pull you up from the seat into one of his famous tight bearhugs, enveloping you in his warm, inviting scent. “Happy birthday. I love you.” 
“Mm, thank you, love. I love you too.” Just as you were about to ask him about work, he clutched the back of your head and pressed his lips against yours to give you a kiss, one that was gentle at first, but grew more firm in the next passing seconds. Despite missing the taste of his lips when he pulled away, you caressed his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over his sharp jaw, feeling the scruffiness of the facial hair that was growing in. “How was work? Shitty?”
“Shitty,” he echoed, just as he pressed his mouth to your own jaw, leaving kisses along it, as well as your cheeks, your nose, your neck, and basically anywhere he could feel your warm skin against him. “But I’m home now, so I couldn’t be happier.” San brought his mouth to your forehead to give it a long kiss, running his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to light the candle or should I, baby?” 
“You do it for me,” you said, squeezing his shoulders a bit, before sitting back down in the chair, watching as San sat in the one adjacent to you. 
When you handed him the lighter, San brought it to the candle sitting inside the personal sized cake and lit the wick, admiring the way the flame illuminated your pretty face. “You’re so beautiful…” he sighed out, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, continuing to admire you, feeling as though he might begin to melt like the candle below. “My beautiful baby.” 
“Stoppp,” you whined softly, heat rising to your cheeks, still barely able to handle the way San looked at you after all these years — with such intensity visible inside his brown eyes that you wholeheartedly believed him when he said that he wanted to give you the entire world. You were his muse, after all. His angel from above. His everything.
“Never.” San gave you a gentle smile as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss the top of your hand, singing a soft rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ in his silky smooth voice, bringing a shy smile to your own face. Once he was done, he pressed more kisses into your skin, running his thumb over your knuckles as you gazed back at him. “Make a wish, love.”
“Why make a wish when I have everything I want now?” you asked, watching as he played with the wedding ring on your finger, the candle below beginning to melt into the frosting. 
San let out a sigh, pressing his warm cheek to your open palm, looking at you like he did years ago when you had first met, unbearably love-struck, lips parted and twinkling eyes full of devotion for his beloved. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he purred, guiding your hand downwards to press a kiss onto the pad of your thumb and following your intense gaze to his mouth. “But, right now, in this moment, isn’t there something you desire?” 
A familiar feeling of warmth flooded your core, thoughts of San taking care of you in ways only he was capable of suddenly urged you to blow the candle out. You knew what you needed. Of course, San was a devoted husband in every sense of the word, but in the bedroom, he brought that to a staggering degree, always willing to please you in every way he could, loving when you used him for your own pleasure, just as much as he loved giving it to you without any restraints. 
“What did you wish for, love?” San inquired, sticking one finger into the cake to scoop up some frosting and holding it up to your mouth, a playful smile tugging at his lips. 
You accepted his finger inside and sucked the sweet cream off of it, emitting a small ‘mmm.’ “I want you on your knees, Sannie. I want you to please me.” 
“Anything for you, my love.” San lowered himself onto the ground before you and began to loosen his tie until he could take it off, feeling a pleasurable heaviness envelop his body now that he was on his knees for his one and only. There was no place he’d rather be. After taking in a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, San began to slide his hands up one of your legs, lifting it up to leave a trail of kisses up to your thigh, stopping now and then to admire your soft skin and the intense gaze you were giving him. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good, my love. I’ll give you everything I have…” he murmured in between kisses, slowly reaching up underneath your dress to hook his fingers into your panties. 
“You promise?” you teased in a soft voice, lowering your other foot down to press into his crotch, the pad of it rubbing along his work pants, feeling the solid outline of his cock pressing against it. 
“I promise, baby,” he replied, his lips forming his signature pout, unconsciously spreading his knees apart, about to pull your panties from your hips when you pushed your foot down a bit harder, earning a small gasp from him, his fingers resting against your waist instead of continuing his quest to strip you. 
Biting into your lower lip, you relieved the pressure you had on him, slowly standing up out of the chair and just barely lifting up the front of your dress to give him an upskirt view. “Use your teeth.” 
“Yes, angel. Whatever you want, I can do…” San swallowed down some of the saliva that persistently tried to overflow and drip down his chin, gingerly kneading his hands into your soft thighs, pressing his cheek to it, looking up at your clothed pussy, his cock already throbbing away inside his pants. He moved his head up underneath your dress and got the lip of your panties in between his teeth and slowly pulled it downwards, audibly groaning as he witnessed a string of arousal drip from your heat and down your inner thigh.
Watching him with bated breath, you resisted the urge to grab the back of his head and fuck his face, desperately wanting to hear him whine and beg for you to come inside his mouth. “You can lick it up, Sannie. Go ahead…”
Your husband’s eyes practically twinkled with gratitude, choosing to pull your panties down the rest of the way and off of you, releasing them from his teeth and holding them against his crotch, rubbing them against his cock as he dragged his tongue up your inner thigh, catching your arousal on his tongue. “Fuck, baby, you taste so good. Let me eat your pretty little pussy, angel. Please, I need it.” 
“I think you can handle waiting a little longer, don’t you think, Sannie?” you mused teasingly, reaching down to press your pointer finger up into his chin, chuckling at the soft gasp that escaped his glistening lips. He was always like putty in your hands. Always ready to worship at your feet if you simply said the words. While that left you breathless, what you really relished was when you pushed him so far that he simply couldn’t hold himself back anymore and gave you his all, even if that meant passing out from pure exhaustion afterwards. 
“Yes, my love, I can wait. I can wait for you.” Your husband rested his hands down on his upper thighs, his teeth instantly digging into his lip as you took a step closer, your dripping pussy directly in front of his face. 
Holding your dress up with one hand, you used the other to spread your pussy apart, your slick dripping down your inner thighs, making sure to push your fingers together and rub them in an up and down motion, making small wet sounds with your movements. “You want your wife’s pretty pussy in your mouth, don’t you, Sannie? You want to taste me on your tongue? Lap my cum up until you’re drowning in it? Is that what you want?”
San felt like he was going to lose his mind, gripping his work pants so tightly, he feared he might tear into them, unless his cock burst out of them first from how painfully hard he was. “Please, baby. I need you so fucking bad,” he choked out, tears stinging the corners of his coffee-colored eyes, resisting the urge to smash his face in between your legs when you grabbed him by the hair and angled his head back, whimpering softly at the grip you had on him. He wanted to be good for you. He had to be good, but he needed you on his tongue like he needed oxygen. 
Once San uttered one last desperate ‘please’ in such a soft, tiny voice, you finally gave in, holding your dress up slightly with both hands and spreading your legs a bit more for him, feeling your core tighten and pulse at the sight of your husband’s teary eyes. If you were an angel, then he was heaven itself, and he probably saw you the exact same way. “You’ve been a good boy, Sannie, so come and get it.” 
Like a puppy hearing the dinner bell, San was on you, pushing his head up underneath your dress, his mouth connected to your cunt, tongue lapping at your wet folds like it was his one and only mission, hands kneading into your thighs out of habit. “Thank you, my angel. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he moaned against your heat, slurping your arousal into his mouth and swallowing it down like you were an oasis and he was a weary traveler in search of a drink. He licked, and licked, and licked, not even thinking, before he reached behind you with his outstretched arms to pull the chair closer, guiding your hips downwards forcefully enough so that you had to sit down on the cushion below. 
“S-Sannie,” you gasped, surprised by his sudden display of strength, your brain going a bit fuzzy as he shoved your thighs apart, then held them up and out of his way so that he could bury his face deeper in between them. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 
San took a second to give you a dimpled smile, nuzzling your slippery inner thigh with his cheek, pressing a small, lingering kiss to your warm skin. “So bad, baby. You drive me fucking crazy.” His tongue was hot and wet against your cunt, practically melting against your folds, taking long, deliberate swipes up to your clit, before zoning in on it and sucking on it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure through your lower half.
Unable to hold your voice back, you began emitting breathy, stunted moans, involuntarily bucking up into his mouth the more he licked and sucked at your clit, feeling your cheeks burn more and more the longer he gazed into your eyes. Though you swore you were used to the intense eye contact that San preferred to have with you, he still always managed to make you feel shy. 
San took another quick breather to comment breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So sweet for me. So perfect.” Taking in your pretty flushed face and glazed-over eyes, he squeezed your thighs in between his thick fingers. “Come here, baby.” He pushed your thighs farther apart and leaned upwards, taking your chin in his grasp and pulling you into a much-needed kiss. Once you let him into your mouth to explore it with his arousal-coated tongue, San lowered his hand from your chin the eagerly rub your pulsing clit around in quick, deliberate circles with his thumb, automatically bringing two digits from his other hand to your cunt, your greedy hole sucking them up to his knuckles, not hesitating to piston them in and out of you. Your muffled moans and whines were like an angelic hymn that made him want to build you a shrine and worship you day and night on his aching knees like he was doing now. Once your legs hooked around his small waist, he quickened the pace of his digits, your wetness now so palpable it was beginning to spill out of you and down his veiny forearm, emitting a knowing ‘mm-hmm’, breaking the kiss as soon as you began to tighten up around him. “Angel’s gonna come for Sannie, huh?”
“Uh-huh, gonna come, Sannie,” you breathed out, licking at your lips and tasting the remnants of yourself on your tongue, swearing you were about to come instantly at the visual of your husband quickly lowering himself back down to your cunt to slurp at it, licking near the outline of his thrusting fingers and back up to your puffy clit, eyeing it longingly, before pursing his lips and spitting your arousal back onto it, only to attach back on it like a magnet. 
As soon as he curled his fingers up and rubbed at your g-spot, hitting it in a way that had you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll all the way back into your skull, San spoke up, “That’s it right there, huh, baby? Right there?” As soon as you cried out for him, your throat hurting from how dry it was, San finger-fucked you into a state of pure ecstasy, not stopping until your arousal began to spray out of you and into his open mouth, coating his tongue. “Oh my god, look at you, baby. You’re squirting for me. You’re such a good girl.” He lowered his mouth onto your twitching cunt, not able to prevent a bit of drool from dripping past his swollen lips, lapping up the rest of your squirt with a few slow, lingering licks.
Once you had enough time to gather your bearings and catch your breath, San sat up and leaned in close to you, asking huskily, “Is there anything else my princess desires?”
“Your cock, Sannie. Give me your cock,” you answered instantly, not even caring about how desperate you sounded. You were desperate, and you knew San was too, given that he hadn’t touched himself a single time. 
Just as quickly as you had answered him, San was already lifting you up into his arms and laying you down onto the kitchen table, spreading your legs apart and fumbling with his leather belt to take it off. Once it hit the floor with a thud, San pulled his aching cock out and slapped it down onto your pussy, watching some slick leak out. "Are you ready? Is my princess going to take all of my cock in this pretty little pussy?"
You nodded as quickly as you could, ready to drool over the thought of finally being filled by him, knowing you’d probably come as soon as he did. 
San slowly moved his hips forward and back, sliding his thick length across your needy cunt, the slick sounds of your arousal making him groan. "Let me hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell Sannie how bad you want it." 
"I need it so bad, so, so bad.” Just as San’s cockhead began to stretch out your hole, your plush walls clenching around him, he pulled out, leaving you empty and ready to beg on your knees just like he had done earlier. “I need your cock, Sannie, please. I want to be full just for you. Please, please, let me have it. I’ll be such a good girl for you, I promise!”
"God, you’re so cute when you’re begging for me, princess," San sighed longingly, caressing and rubbing your thighs with his thumbs, burning the image of your teary-eyed gaze into his memory. “But, don’t worry, I’m here. I’m going to fill you up, okay?” Smiling at the sight of your furious nods, he pushed back inside of you, inch by inch, making you let out a long, almost relieved moan, not stopping until your lower halves were pressed together. 
Now that he was being squeezed by your tightness, San felt something switch on inside his brain, no longer concerned with teasing you, but instead overwhelmed by the desperate need to fuck you until you were a crying, cum-filled mess for him, and him alone. 
Loud, wet slapping sounds began to echo throughout the kitchen, along with the thud, thud, thud of the kitchen table being rocked back and forth into the tile flooring below. “You’re so good for me, baby, so good,” San praised into your ear, his warm body flush against yours, slamming his hips into yours, appreciating the way you had your legs hooked around his small waist, locking him in place. 
“Sannie,” you cried out, unable to stop pulsing around your husband’s thick length, feeling like you would go crazy from the way it was pounding into you. You reached your hands out, smiling when he immediately laced his fingers with yours, holding your hands down against the cool surface of the table. “I’m gonna come. It’s spilling out.” 
“I’m going to come too, my love. Let’s come together,” he encouraged, squeezing your fingers against his own, slowing his pace down and fucking you in a more deliberate way, his thrusts slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot every time. Just as you began to mewl and babble from the overwhelming pleasure, San pressed his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans just as you swallowed his choked ones. It felt so good, he didn’t even realize when he started to cry, his hot tears dripping down his cheeks and landing onto your heated face. “I’m going to fill you up and make you a mommy, sweetheart. Make you so full of my love. So, so full for me.” 
“Yes, please, Sannie, fill me up.” Just as your body shook and trembled, your cum pouring out of you and coating your joined flesh, San’s hot load came pouring into you, filling you up to the brim like always. 
“Here it comes, angel. Just for you. I love you so much,” he choked out, his voice raw and throaty from how hard he was cumming, blinking a few more tears away to focus on your pretty face, slowly going soft, but staying inside you, keeping you full of his warmth and love. 
“I love you too, Sannie. So much,” you replied wholeheartedly, wiping one of his tears away as you brought him into another kiss, this one as gentle and sweet as the love he always gave you. 
Slowly breaking the kiss, he pressed one onto your forehead, bringing you into a long hug, not planning on letting you go. “Happy Birthday, baby.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
1K notes · View notes
hoeforhao · 4 months
Text
🎀 Tracing You 🎀 Kim Mingyu Series
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Pairing : boyfriend! Mingyu × fem!reader
Genre : fluff, smut, slight touch of angst
Warnings : talks of body dismorphia and insecurities
Summary : It's Valentines Week and your boyfriend has been secretly going to baking classes to have your favorite cupcakes by your side on the special day. But what happens if each of them come packed with a fortune note that trace out all the insecurities you've?
Part : 1/2
Author's note : This is for our lovely Mars aka @onlymingyus for the cupid collab of svthub arranged by none other than our @wongyuseokie . Hope you'll like part 1 ( couldn't complete the full fic as i fell sick 🥲 ) . I'll try to post part 2 as soon as possible.
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"You're late again" you lean against the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest as you look dead into your boyfriend's eyes. It's the fifth time this week that he has come home late.
"Yeah whatever" Mingyu gives your body a slight push to make his way into the house, leaving back jolts of disbelief in you. Is this the Mingyu you know? The one that treated you like a cloud?
Sitting on the couch from both shock and pain, you wait for him to come out of the shower so that you two can talk about what to plan for tomorrow. Yes it would be Valentine's Day just after the clock struck 12.
Your eyes quickly shoot up at Mingyu's direction as you smell that freshly bathed scent coming from him, water dripping down his collarbone down to his chest and halting onto the band of his towel.
"Oh fuck - " is what you mumble to yourself before shifting your mind to the more important agenda again, that is to confront him about the plans.
"M-mingyu when are we going out tomorrow" getting up from the couch, you make your way towards only to be able to wrap your arms around his waist.
"What for?" is all that comes out of his mouth before he yanks your hands off of his, and proceeds to plate his dinner as if you don't even exist in the surroundings.
"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow Mingyu. Did you forget- " you couldn't even finish your words before he shouted at you at inhumane loudness.
"You fucking know I do not care about these y/n. Stop being so clingy and leave me alone" he pushes you off making you almost tumble upon the kitchen counter, maybe from from the mental shock rather than the physical effect.
"Y-you did not have to shout you k-know" tears start welling up at the corner of your eyes, as you slowly step back to run to your bedroom, wanting nothing to do with him anymore.
"Oh y/n only if I could've told you why I had to do all of these, only if I could've let you know how a piece of me broke inside everytime I shouted on you. But I can't. I have to get this done to give you the bigger picture". Mingyu keeps on mumbling to himself.
With that he steps into the kitchen and brings out all the ingredients that he has been storing in secret for all these days, starting from the pretty cupcake holders, to the sprinkles and glitters and buttercream. Every single thing. Because afterall -
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tragedy-of-commons · 2 months
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killjoy
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childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k
You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.
tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair
notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)
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It has been one hell of a day.
Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car. 
To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.
It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—
The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.
Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.
“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”
“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”
“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. 
A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”
You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”
“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”
He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”
Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.
You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.
“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”
You snicker deviously. “Really?”
“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”
Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys. 
Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.
(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)
Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on. 
When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.
(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)
Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.
“Bad day, huh?” 
You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”
“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”
You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.” 
Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”
“Don’t tell me you—”
“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”
You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.
From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”
Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.
“What’s it to?”
“Our place.”
It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”
Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”
The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.
“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.
You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”
“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”
The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.
His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm. 
“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”
You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”
Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”
“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.
“I love you too, Killjoy.”
That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.
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taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee
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lemon-tart-221 · 5 months
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A Slightly Overdone Miracle of Maximum Lust
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Crowley needs to quickly stir up some trouble for hell, so he miracles a wave of lust across London. What he doesn’t anticipate is that he and Aziraphale will be affected, and — vavoom — things soon get spicy.
(Aka the buttercream cake fic)
Read it on AO3
By LemonTart
Rated E, 3k words, fluff and smut, Top Crowley, potential mild dubcon for a lust-inducing miracle
Written for the @goodomensafterdark Smut War
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justmediocrewriting · 4 months
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“BEACH DAZE,” {v.s}
A/n: I owe so many thanks to @heartfully10 for this beautiful idea. Madam, please, feed me moar!! I read your idea and my brain fucking zoomed I tell you, it zoomed!!! I need more inspos like that <3
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Summary: you were a fool to think the day couldn’t get any more perfect, because of course your handsome chef would make sure it did
Genre: fluff with spice
Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader
Requested: ❌ (suggested, requests are open!)
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings/tags: some spicy themes, massages, established relationship, mixer!sanji, the man’s a chef of course the dude can mix drinks too, flirting, just two people being madly in love on the beach, crew bonding, whipped!sanji, whipped!reader, sensual application of sunscreen, teasing, fluff, it’s just really lovey y’all (and a bit more spicy than I originally intended)
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The sun’s harsh glare was tapered by the shadow casted by the umbrella above you, its warm rays only able to caress the skin of your ankles to your toes. Pounding feet over shifting sand, lapping waves, loud splashes, the squeals and laughter of children and adults alike, and the cries of gulls harmonized together to create a symphony that bled nostalgia from your heart — you missed this.
Your eyes had slipped closed some time ago, the warm, lively atmosphere of the beach settling deep into your bones and relaxing you from within, so the arrival of another person in front of you was only detectable by the sudden coolness their shadow offered your toes.
“You seem pretty comfortable there, sweetheart.”
A smile found its way to your face immediately, the smooth timbre of that voice slithering into your ears pleasantly and melting your already sun-baked brain. With a simple flutter of your eyes you were greeted with one of the best sights of your life; clad in only patterned swim shorts and skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration, one hand casting a shadow over his blue eyes and the other holding a sweating glass of something, stood Sanji. Your skin heated ever so slightly and your gut stirred, but you pushed away the sensations and merely patted the space beside you.
“Towel is big enough for two, if you're curious to see how comfortable it is.” You teased silkily, and Sanji’s lips immediately pulled into a smirk. Further prompting was unnecessary, the blond man sinking down almost immediately beside you without a word. You eyed the glass in his hand, curiosity brimming at the oddly brightly colored liquid within.
“What’s that?” You asked, propping yourself up to rest your weight on your elbows and procure a better look at the drink. Sanji glanced down at the drink before shooting you a dazzling smile.
“It’s a drink I made. I call it ‘Little South Blue’.”
“The name fits.” You murmured, eyes taking in the ombré blue of the liquid, neon bright at the top and abyssal black towards the bottom. Flicking your eyes back up to meet Sanji’s, you asked, “what was your inspiration?”
“Have a taste first, love, and see if you can guess.” Sanji tutted, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. You opened willingly, maintaining eye contact with him as the liquid slowly coated your tongue. Despite its blue color, it carried a heady citrus taste, not tangy enough to be off-putting but just enough to leave a bit of an aftertaste. There were sweet undertones in the current, too, something reminiscent of vanilla buttercream. All in all, it was a perfect blend of flavors, with none overshadowing the next, or standing out blatantly in a way that made the drink hard to swallow.
Once you swallowed down the generous amount Sanji had given you he pulled the rim from your mouth, eyebrows raised and lips quirked in a challenge. You licked the remainder of liquid from your lips, the action of which Sanji immediately zeroed in on, the look in his eyes fanning the ever-glowing embers of desire in your gut, and you pretended to consider.
“It’s sweet, with a citrus aftertaste… rather fruity, if you ask me. Which leads me to believe your inspiration was…” you trailed off, furrowing your delicate brows and jutting your lower lip out ever so slightly in that pout you knew drove Sanji crazy and got you anything you wanted out of the chef, and then sighed deeply.
“Nami.” You deadpanned, amusement zipping through your chest at the look of pure disbelief that overcame Sanji’s features — it was like watching sunlight glisten off of a rainbow trout’s scales, the colors shifting with such speed that the human eye couldn’t dare to identify where or when the shift started or ended.
“I’m speechless, love,” Sanji jested, scooting his body closer to yours and placing a large hand atop your plush thigh. “That you would assume I could even think of another woman when I have all of this right in front of me, any time I want it.” Sanji ended this statement with a firm, yet gentle squeeze of your thigh, sending various feelings and thoughts rushing to the forefront of your mind — memories of similar touches in the dark, picking you apart molecule by molecule and then gluing you back together again, simultaneously.
You sucked in a sharp breath and pushed your thighs together, the habitual movement not escaping Sanji’s watchful eye, and he smirked, skimming his fingers along your flesh. Your skin pimpled despite the heat of the day, and those embers once more flared hotter — gods, how you wanted him right now.
It was dizzying how quickly Sanji was able to alter your moods — with one well placed sentence or touch, Sanji could turn you into a dripping puddle of want, no matter what emotion you could have been feeling at the time, nor the strength of it. It was the same story for every emotion, the man able to influence them so easily, as if they were attached to strings and he were the puppet master pulling them.
And, to be frank, you loved it.
You looked down to Sanji’s hand on your thigh, bringing your own hand up to run your fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you dropped your voice to a low murmur, the volume prompting Sanji to lean in towards you to hear your words.
“You shouldn’t tease me unless you plan on seeing it through.”
Sanji’s eyes widened fractionally before they clouded with barely-contained interest, orbs darting down to trace the shape of your lips. You mirrored his actions, eyes falling to his lips, electricity skirting along the flesh of your own as you imagined pressing them to Sanji’s. Their dance would be fluid and familiar, as always, consumed by the ever-present hunger you held for one another.
“This is a public beach. Get a room.”
The sudden onslaught of words sliced through the tension swirling around you, and you whipped your body around to face the source; you inadvertently knocked your elbow into Sanji’s arm, dislodging his hand from your thigh and upsetting his balance slightly. You snapped your eyes up to meet the face of Zoro, who wore an expression of mixed discomfort and amusement.
You couldn’t help but flush slightly. You’d been so wrapped up in Sanji that you’d completely lost awareness to your surroundings. That wasn’t much of a surprise, if you were being honest. It had happened many a time on the Going Merry, and you just knew it would continue to happen going forward. That was the effect Sanji had on you. You glanced around to see if your little personal moment with Sanji had drawn the attention of anyone else, but thankfully, everyone on the beach were too busy in their own worlds to really pay you any mind.
“Go mind your own business, mosshead. Take a swim, or something. You need a bath anyway.” Sanji retorted back, but the relaxation of the day must have affected Sanji in some way too, for his words lacked their usual heat. Zoro rolled his eyes but stalked away regardless; Sanji focused his attention on you once more, but Zoro’s appearance had bursted that bubble of intimacy around the two of you, and you couldn’t find a way to work up the same level of desire you had felt just seconds prior. You gave Sanji a morose smile, and the message was conveyed clearly to the man, who simply shook his head with a smile on his face.
No worries.
Despite no longer feeling the urge to clamber into Sanji’s lap and ride him til the sun set, you still felt the need to be physically close to him, so you once again closed the distance between the two of you. Your thighs and sides were bow flush against one another, and you looked out across the span of the beach and rested your head on his shoulder. Sanji responded by wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his chin atop your head. A perfect embrace, one that had your chest feeling light and fluttery.
“This reminds me of home, you know.” You said suddenly, blurting out the same thought you’d had since the Going Merry had docked on the island. Sanji hummed and fiddled with the knot on the side of your swimsuit bottoms.
“You mean back in the South Blue?”
You nodded mutely, lips pulling into a smile as waves of nostalgia crashed over you. “Mhmm. Many islands in the South Blue are a lot like this one; hot, sunny and sandy. Coconut trees as far as the eye can see and enough tiki bars that even Zoro couldn’t drink an island dry.”
Sanji chuckled at your analogy and released his hold on the knot, now tracing shapes into the skin of your hip with his fingertips. Pleasant pimples dotted across your skin from the sensation.
“Was your island like this one?” Sanji asked, using his free hand to bring his drink, Little South Blue, to his lips. You could feel the undulation of his jawline and throat as he swallowed.
You shifted your body closer to his, crossing your right ankle over his left and digging your foot between his. The heat was near scorching, and the proximity of your bodies wasn’t helping, but it felt too nice to not link your skin in some way.
“Somewhat. There’s a lot of activities that I’ve noticed are exclusive to the South Blue — surfing, beach volleyball, free diving. But there’s a couple here that I recognize from my island. The tiki bars, for example, and the sunbathing.”
You pointed to a group of women to the left, splayed out on large beach towels and soaking up the sun’s rays like hungry plants. Sanji made a strange sound, a mixture between a grunt and a chuckle, and before you could question its origins he said,
“Won’t they just burn? It doesn’t even look like they’re wearing sun screen.”
You narrowed your eyes and looked closer at the women; it was hard to discern from the distance, but you could just barely notice the lack of the tell-tale shine of sunscreen. You hummed deep in your throat.
“They probably forgot to reapply it. It does dry up, eventually.”
“Did you put some on?” Sanji asked, palm flattening around your hip and rubbing, as if he were trying to feel the slick oil on your skin. You burrowed your side deeper into his and reached across his lap to pluck the drink from his hand. Sanji unhooked his chin from your head so that you could pull a drink from the rim. That sweet vanilla-citrus bloomed over your tongue again, and you found yourself quite liking the taste.
“I rubbed some in earlier. It’s not too big of a deal for me, since I’m in the shade. This is actually pretty good, by the way.” You took another slow, purposeful drink, letting the liquid linger in your tongue for a few moments before swallowing.
Sanji clicked his tongue, and his other hand, now freed of its previous burden, slid over to connect to your thigh once more. He stroked the plush flesh with his thumb as he rumbled, “of course it’s good. Its creation was inspired by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
You looked up at Sanji with wide, doe-y eyes, voice sickly sweet as you teased, “awww, that’s going to flatter Nami to the moon!”
Sanji rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, though you could see no real agitation in his expression when he reached forward and slipped the drink from your hand. With a light smack to your thigh Sanji ordered, “alright, that’s enough. Lay on your stomach.”
“What?” You said smartly, amusement flattening quickly to confusion.
“On your stomach. You said it’s been a while since you’ve put on any sunscreen, and there is no way I’m going to let the sun do any damage to your beautiful skin.”
You raised a brow and pointed up at the umbrella. “I’m under the shade.”
“I’m not taking any chances. Now lay down and tell me where the sunscreen is.” Sanji huffed, and you rolled your eyes but complied, rearranging yourself to spread out on your stomach. Sanji’s skilled hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin actually didn’t sound half bad.
“It’s in my bag.” You said softly, crossing your arms in front of you and resting your chin atop them.
Sanji shuffled through your bag for a few seconds before grasping and pulling out the circular container of your sunscreen. Sanji unscrewed the lid and placed the container gently near the side of your head, its strong vanilla fragrance quickly rushing into your nostrils.
Vanilla…
Sanji shuffled beside you then stood, placing either foot on each side of your legs before squatting down to cage your calves beneath his thighs; Sanji made sure to put most of the pressure and body weight onto the backs of his own feet so that he didn’t squash your legs, a rather gentle and endearing consideration of his. Silver glinted in your periphery as Sanji dipped his fingers into the container and scooped out a generous amount — a lot more than you’d personally use, but you didn’t utter an objection to it — and anticipation spiked in your gut when you heard the unmistakable sound of Sanji slathering his hands in the substance.
The first stroke across your shoulder blades had you sighing into the warm air, but when Sanji used his palms to smear in the sunscreen you were helpless to the sounds your lips released. Sanji put a gentle pressure into his hands, sliding his palms up and down your back — all the way from the tips of your shoulder blades to the dip of your lower back and back again — repetitive and slow, and your muscles were quickly turning to putty beneath his attention.
Sanji took immediate notice of this, and his intentions of applying sunscreen morphed into a delicate massage, splaying his thumbs so that they gently dug into the muscles close to your spine with every drag along the length of your back.
“You’re tense, love. How long has that been going on?” Sanji asked in a murmur, leaning his body over yours so that he could speak inches from your ear. The combination of sensations had your gut stirring, his deft hands turning your body to putty and his rumbling timbre doing the same to your brain.
“A little bit.” You answered breathily, eyes slipping closed as you allowed yourself to feel — to feel Sanji’s subtle weight against your legs, his hands on your skin, the breeze in the air, and the soft sand beneath the towel — it was a combination that made your chest feel floaty and full, the beach drawing out homesick nostalgia and Sanji’s presence supplying a different sense of home. A sense of home that you only felt with Sanji.
“You should have told me sooner, darling. I’d have been more than happy to massage you.” Sanji gently chastised, and in your dopey state, all you could do was hum in response. Sanji’s hands slipped up to your shoulder blades, his thumbs digging into the meatier sections with a gently firmness, and electricity exploded within your body — you could feel the tension melting out of your muscles, and it felt so good. Sanji repeated this action along the entirety of your back, rubbing and soothing out every kink in the muscles with hands that bordered on sinful.
“I’m sure you probably knew from the start, but Little South Blue’s creation was inspired by you.” Sanji wisped, hands never slowing or stopping their movements. “I’d read in a book long ago that citrus fruits were very common in the South Blue, and that they were the staple ingredient of all kinds of foods and drinks.”
You peeked open an eye just in time to see Sanji dipping his fingers back into the container of sunscreen before returning to your back — now his hands moved up further, grinding pleasantly into the muscle of your nape.
“Vanilla is your favorite scent, and you especially like the taste when it’s used in buttercream.”
Your heart constricted in your chest, adoration flaring strong and consuming. You remembered the vanilla-y undercurrent in the mouthfuls you’d swallowed previously, along with the tangy citrus.
“I decided to combine them in a base of your favorite alcohol; sweet rum. Then I named it after your home sea, so that you could have a little piece of it when we leave here.”
Your heart felt as if it would implode out of your chest; time and time again, Sanji was able to exceed any and all expectations with his generosity and romantic soul, but this felt like it was on another level — one that you were finding difficult to process at the moment. Sanji’s hands felt heavenly on your body, but if you didn’t get your lips on his this instant you were going to combust.
With Sanji essentially weightless on top of you, it was easy to roll onto your back quickly. The movement startled Sanji and he retracted his hands, still lathered in the sun screen, and you slipped your legs from underneath him and sat up on your knees. Grasping both sides of his handsome face you leaned in quickly, connecting your lips to his. As always, the contact sent ripples of electricity through your entire body, and when Sanji’s lips quickly responded by initiating a dance with yours, the chilled embers in your gut roared into an inferno.
You slid your tongue along his bottom lip, phantom traces of vanilla-citrus rewarding your movement, and you groaned against Sanji’s lips, which parted for you quickly. The beach and everything else faded into the background as you slipped your tongue against his, coaxing it into the same familiar dance you’d rehearsed time and time again. The flavor was even heavier on his tongue, and when understanding the very reason behind every ingredient, it tasted like pure heaven, enhancing the natural taste of Sanji that you’d come to love and crave.
You only pulled away when you found yourself getting a bit dizzy from lack of proper oxygen, and by that time you had subconsciously scrambled into Sanji’s lap and had your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in the blond strands at the base of his skull. Sanji’s pupils were blown and his eyes were hazy, a subtle hardness pushing into the flesh of your thigh, and you licked your lips.
“You taste a lot more like home than some drink, Sanji.”
Sanji smiled at you in a breathless daze, but the perfect, sensual moment was ruined by one phrase uttered with distaste from behind you,
“Seriously, get a room.”
{{:================================:}}
2 posts in under 24 hours??? I’m on a roll lmao. I just wanted to send a quick thank you to everyone who has sent in requests/suggestions. You guys really helped bring me inspiration and I appreciate it so much!! If you guys enjoyed this please consider liking/reblogging/commenting. Love you all and thanks for reading!
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luveline · 11 months
Note
JADE!!! Hi!
Could I request some birthday morning fluff with Eddie please? I’m gearing up to be delulu and single on Saturday 🥲
hello!!! I hope u have a good birthday and you enjoy!! 💓 fem!reader
Eddie made your cake himself. It tasted good when he tried the bits he shaved off, and he went very carefully as he iced it with buttercream, so it looks nice, too, with swirls from a poorly constructed piping bag and shift red cherries perched around the perimeter, 'Happy Birthday' in sloping font across the top. It isn't a professional result but it certainly isn't bad. 
He's very excited to share it with you. 
You're sitting at the table in a nice dress, though you asked him to stay home, and, much more shyly, asked him if he'd make you dinner. Eddie was more than happy to try, and even though the wine in the pasta didn't quite cook off, the garlic bread was perfect (as garlic bread tends to be) and you enjoyed it. He could tell. 
"You ready, beautiful?" he asks. 
"Yeah! It better be one of those triple layers with buttercream," you tease, "if you got me a cheapie we're gonna break up." 
"Yeah, right," he says. He puts the cake down on the table carefully, hand poised at the top of the blue plastic covering. 
He yanks it up. "Tada. Made by yours truly. The buttercream tastes good 'cos it's like, full butter, and the cake was good, but if you don't like it I can totally get you a fancy one from Leaven."
"You made me a cake?" you ask, pressing your lips together, your eyes watering. 
"Christ!" he says, putting the lid down to open his hands for shoulder grabbing. "Don't cry, what the fuck?" 
"You made me cake," you say, sniffing, blinking so the glassy eyes don't progress to tears. 
"Yeah, with love and everything, you wouldn't believe it. You're not supposed to cry, though," he says. 
"What am I supposed to do?" 
"Tell me how good it looks." 
He's bent at the waist to hold you, perfect height for your tight hug. You throw your arms around him, kissing his shoulder as you praise, "It looks amazing. I love you, I love you, you made me a cake." 
"You told me you wanted a homemade dinner, sweetheart." 
He nudges your head back, kisses the corner of your mouth, and steps away to grab a knife, forks, and plates. You make a happy sound and pull the cake toward you, your awe clear. It makes his heart race. 
Eddie offers you the knife. 
You take it but hesitate, knife an inch above the buttercream. "It's so perfect I don't want to ruin it. How long did it take you? It's amazing." 
"Nothings gonna make me happier than if you cut a piece and enjoy it," he says easily. It took him nine hours and that's not any of your business. 
You bite your lip but can't hide your smile as you cut a big wedge of cake, sliding it out on the flat of the knife to deposit onto your plate. One of the maraschino cherries falls off of a buttercream swirl. 
"Do you have a fork?" you ask. 
Eddie passes it over. Thrilled, you cut a mix of soft looking sponge and thick buttercream, too much for one mouthful, and take a bite. Your eyes flare wide, hand held over your mouth to say, "Eddie. So good! It's delicious, here." 
You offer him the rest of your forkful. He ducks down to eat it, and you're bluffing, it's not nice enough to look as happy as you do, but he loves you for loving it, and he's trying to kiss you before he's swallowed. You make a noise of disagreement with your mouth closed, but you melt a little at his kiss. 
"Happy birthday," he says adoringly. 
"Thank you." You take another fork of cake. "I can't believe you made me a cake, you dork. You're the best boyfriend in the world." 
"I thought that was what you wanted!" 
"This is exactly what I wanted." You can't seem to decide between cake or kisses, but eventually you choose cake, puckering up. "Thank you," you say again as he pulls away. 
"You're welcome. Are we sharing?" 
"No way! Get your own piece." 
He'd usually complain, but he's just happy you're happy. He grabs another plate and cuts his own slice without complaint. 
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