#Disney World Trip Planning
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disneydawgs · 1 year ago
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Regal Eagle Menu Released
After a long wait, Disney has released the Menu and Pricing for the new Regal Eagle Smokehous in Epcot.  Regal Eagle Smokehous is located in Epcot across from the Amphitheater and where the American Adventure show is currently located.  Now all we need from Disney is when the restaurant is going to open…
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disneyrover · 1 year ago
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Advice: Help! What Disney Rides Should I Go On?
Disney influencers will tell you most rides are a must do, but are they really? We tackle this tricky question with some honest insight of these "must do" attractions.
I think something we can all agree on is that planning a Walt Disney World vacation is a lot of prep work. First, you have to plan what time of year you’d like to visit. Then, you have to research what resort you’d like to stay at (I wrote an article about that!). And then you have to think about, three months in advance, what you think you’ll want to eat. Oh, and let’s not forget about what…
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im-no-jedi · 1 year ago
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Omega and Hunter are preparing to leave for a trip with Hunter’s new friend, Cayde. the others wish they could come too (mainly so Hunter doesn’t have to suffer Cayde’s shenanigans alone), but they understand that Omega wants some bonding time with her dad— I mean big brother 😊
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fights4users · 2 years ago
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June can’t come fast enough… I want on that rollercoaster.
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I'm so crazy about this guy
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moldybits · 2 years ago
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I’m going to Disney World in 15 days to celebrate my mom’s 50th birthday with her and my dad. I went a lot as a kid since we had family who lived semi locally in central FL, but this trip is def more than we ever did when I was little.
But I was talking about the trip with my mom, who’s so excited, and it like dawned on me. I think I more excited to see my parents have fun than anything else? Like is this the way my parents felt about me when I was little lmao??? Like my mom is excited for the new Toy Story stuff and seeing animals and my dad can’t wait to see Star Wars. Like hearing them talk about what they want to do and see, almost childlike, feels so… nice right now lol.
My mom was talking about the Winnie the Pooh ride (Winnie the Pooh characters are literally her favorite thing ever. My nursery was Winnie the Pooh 🥺) and the just absolute joy in her voice… my god lol.
My whole family has been exhausted from both mental and physical health emergencies. After my close call with an attempt in December due to a severe bipolar depression episode, and all my dads health scares, we all need a break.
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mickeymdod · 6 months ago
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On the Road w/Mickey 234 - Planning our December Trips!
This week at On the Road w/ Mickey we're talking about Planning our December Trips! We've got overlapping WDW vacations so follow along!
Episode 234 – Planning our December Trips! Planning our December Trips! Hey everyone, I’m Mike, she’s Sophie, that’s Brenda, and he’s Grogu, and we’re On the Road with Mickey! This is episode 234 and this week our feature topic is Planning our December Trips! In this episode, we are looking at our upcoming holiday trips to Walt Disney World, and what we want to do while there! Here’s what we…
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badranali-blog · 8 months ago
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The Ultimate Guide to Hotels Near Disneyland and Disney World Resorts
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jupiterpilgrim · 27 days ago
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Storm
Dahyun x Male Reader
word count: 5K
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The storm’s been pounding the world outside since morning, slashing against the windows like nature itself lost its temper. Inside, though, it’s warm. Smells of butter and chocolate fill the small kitchen as you finish arranging the last handful of popcorn in the bowl. You grab the soda cans, balancing everything like a waiter on a tightrope. In the living room, Dahyun’s voice carries over the rumble of rain.
“Babe! Hurry up!�� she whines, her pitch soaring as you hear the soft thuds of her bouncing on the couch cushions. She sounds like a sugar-rushed kid waiting for cake. You can already picture her, legs tucked under her, short pink Hello Kitty shorts riding up her pale thighs, loose shirt hanging off one shoulder. You shake your head with a grin, grabbing a pack of M&Ms to complete the spread.
Three months of living together, and the novelty hasn’t worn off. It’s the little things—how she’ll randomly burst into song while brushing her teeth or how she’s somehow made every corner of the house scream Dahyun. She’s your chaotic little sunbeam, glowing even on days like this, when the world outside feels drenched in gray.
You make your way into the living room. Dahyun’s perched on her knees now, practically vibrating with excitement. “Finally! I thought you were planning a three-course meal back there,” she teases, flashing that toothy grin of hers.
“Snacks are serious business,” you shoot back, setting the tray down on the coffee table.
She claps her hands like a kid at Christmas and immediately snatches the remote. “Okay, okay, let’s do this!” She’s already flicking through the Disney+ menu, landing on the classic she’s been hyping all week. Something bright and nostalgic—perfect for a stormy night.
Just as she’s about to press play, the sky outside splits open. Thunder roars so loud it rattles the windows, and then—bam—everything goes dark.
“AAAAHHHH!” Dahyun shrieks, her voice cutting through the sudden silence. She’s off the couch in a flash, nearly tripping over herself as she stumbles toward you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” Her hands clutch at your arm, fingers digging in like a cat trying to climb a tree.
“It’s just a blackout,” you say, but she’s already shaking her head.
“Nope. Nope. Nope,” she chants, squeezing her eyes shut. Her grip tightens as another crack of thunder rolls through, closer this time. She lets out a tiny yelp, burying her face in your chest.
You wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Dahyunnie, it’s fine. It’s just weather. It’s not gonna eat you.”
“It feels like it’s gonna eat me,” she mutters into your shirt, voice muffled and pitiful. “What if it doesn’t come back? What if we’re stuck in the dark forever?”
You bite back a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Forever’s a stretch, don’t you think?”
“Don’t make fun of me!” she pouts, though the corners of her lips twitch. Her hands stay glued to you as she shuffles in place, practically curling into your side like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to sanity.
You guide her back to the couch, sitting down with her practically in your lap. The rain hammers harder against the windows, and every so often the room lights up with a jagged flash of lightning. Each time, Dahyun flinches, burying herself further into you until she’s half-straddling you, her thin little body trembling slightly under the loose shirt.
“You’re really not a fan of storms, huh?” you ask softly, running your fingers through her silky black hair.
“Nope. Never. Hate them,” she mutters, clutching the front of your shirt. “They’re loud, and it’s dark, and it’s like... ugh, I can’t explain it.” She looks up at you, and even though you can't see it properly, you know she's scrunching her nose in that way that always makes your heart flip. “You think I’m dumb.
“I think you’re adorable,” you say, leaning in to nuzzle her. She giggles despite herself, smacking your chest lightly.
“Don’t try to charm me. I’m serious. I feel like a little kid, freaking out like this.”
“You’re my little kid,” you tease, earning another playful slap. “Alright, alright, I get it. But you know what? You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m here.”
Her fingers relax a little, her body softening against you. She sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. “You always make me feel safe,” she murmurs.
“I mean, I am pretty great,” you joke, earning a snort.
Her laughter is short-lived as another rumble of thunder sends a shiver through her. Her legs twitch slightly where they’re pressed against yours, bare and smooth. You trail your hand down to her thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“Hey,” you whisper, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at you. “I know a way to make you forget about the storm.”
Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
You lean in closer, your voice dropping low. “Distraction therapy.”
Her lips part, her breath hitching slightly as she catches the mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles, though there’s a flicker of interest in her voice.
“Maybe,” you admit, letting your hand wander just a little higher, brushing the hem of her shorts. “But you love me for it.”
Her cheeks flush pink, the storm momentarily forgotten as she shifts in your lap, the weight of her settling just right.
You move your hand to Dahyun's head, your fingers comb through her hair, the silky strands slipping easily between your fingers. She feels so small in your lap, legs folded up, her cheek pressed against your chest. The rain’s still battering the windows, and the occasional flicker of lightning casts jagged shadows across the room, but you focus on her—on her warmth, her little huffs of nervous breath.
“You okay?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.
She nods weakly, though her grip on your shirt hasn’t loosened. “Yeah... I just—tonight was supposed to be fun, you know?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were excited about the movie.”
She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her pout exaggerated. “Of course I was! It’s a classic! I’ve been talking about it all week, haven’t I?” Her voice lilts with playful indignation, though her eyes are still wide, the thunder’s threat lurking in the back of her mind.
“You’ve been hyping it like it’s the second coming of Christ,” you tease, earning a small giggle.
“Well, yeah,” she says with a dramatic toss of her head. “Now it’s ruined. Stupid storm.” Her gaze drifts toward the window, her mood dipping again. You hate seeing that little flicker of disappointment in her.
“We’ll watch it as soon as the power comes back,” you promise, pulling her closer. “But hey, this just means we’ll have to do this whole thing again. More snacks, more cuddles. Bigger deal.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s considering your pitch, then smirks. “Fine, but only if you let me pick another movie, too.”
“Deal,” you say, grinning, just as another crack of thunder splits the air.
Dahyun screams, loud and high-pitched, the sound stabbing directly into your eardrum. You wince, half-deaf, as she scrambles up against you like she’s trying to climb inside your skin. Her arms lock around your neck, her whole body trembling like a cornered kitten.
“Oh my god, oh my god, I hate this! It feels like the sky is gonna fall!” she wails, voice muffled against your chest.
“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, stroking her back in slow circles. “It’s just noise. It can’t hurt you.”
“But it feels like it can,” she whimpers, squeezing tighter.
“Hey, listen to me,” you say, tilting her chin up so her glassy eyes meet yours. “You don’t need to be scared, okay? I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here.”
She sniffs, her lips wobbling into the faintest smile. “You always say the right thing, huh?”
“It’s a gift,” you say, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But for real. If you ever feel scared, you just let me know, okay?”
She nods, her voice small. “Okay.”
A pause stretches between you, the storm roaring outside, while inside, it’s just her heartbeat against yours. Finally, you murmur, “You want me to calm you down now? Make you feel good?”
She blinks up at you, her breath catching slightly. “...Yeah,” she whispers, almost shyly.
You lean in, the space between you shrinking. In the dark, neither of you can see clearly, and when your lips meet, there’s a sharp clink—teeth crashing together painfully.
“Shit!” you yelp, pulling back, your hand flying to your mouth.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” she gasps, then bursts out laughing when she sees you clutching your face. “You’re such a dork!”
“Me?! You’re the one who can’t aim!” you shoot back, grinning despite the ache.
She’s still laughing as you cup her face again, this time more careful, your thumb brushing against her cheekbone. “Alright, let’s try this again,” you whisper, and then your lips meet hers properly. It’s soft at first, a tentative press, but the way she melts into you makes you press harder, deeper. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, fingers curling into your shirt as she sighs into your mouth.
The world outside seems to shrink. The storm, the dark, the cold—all of it fades as your bodies draw closer, her warmth against yours. Her lips are so soft, and there’s something addictive about the way she responds, the little noises she makes as your hands trail down her sides, brushing the bare skin of her thighs where her shorts ride up.
When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you whisper, “C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
She hesitates for half a second, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip, before nodding. “Okay,” she breathes.
The two of you fumble your way through the pitch-black apartment, bumping into furniture and each other. She stifles a giggle when she nearly trips over the coffee table, clutching your hand like it’s her lifeline. By the time you reach the bedroom, both of you are out of breath from laughing, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm, intimate. You push the door open, pulling her inside as lightning flashes outside, casting fleeting silver across her silhouette.
In the dark, her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close again. “Thanks for being my storm shield,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.
“Anytime,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring every second.
Your lips are locked with hers, warm and soft, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. As you kiss her, you guide her backward, your hands on her waist, steadying her as you move. Her leg bumps against the edge of the bed, and before either of you can react, she stumbles, falling onto the mattress with a surprised laugh.
You’re right there with her, landing softly on top of her. She’s still giggling, her cheeks flushed, and you can’t help but smile down at her. “You okay?” you ask, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice light, her eyes sparkling in the faint sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Her hands slide up to your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Now kiss me.”
Then your mouth finds hers again, but this time it’s slower, deeper. Your hands roam, sliding down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist under the thin fabric of her shirt. She sighs into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath you as you press her into the mattress.
Breaking away from her lips, you start a trail of kisses down her jaw, your lips brushing over the delicate curve until you reach her neck. Her skin is warm and smells faintly of her vanilla body lotion, sweet and intoxicating. You breathe her in, unable to get enough, and press your mouth against her neck, kissing and nipping gently. Her head tilts back, giving you more access, and she lets out this tiny, breathy moan that goes straight to your core.
“God, you smell so good,” you murmur against her skin, your lips moving to her collarbone. She shivers under you, her hands gripping the back of your shirt.
“You always say that,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with teasing.
“Because it’s true,” you reply, grinning as you kiss the hollow of her throat. She smells like comfort, like home, like something you could drown in and never get tired of. Every kiss draws another little sound from her—a sigh, a gasp, a quiet moan—and each one just spurs you on.
“I love you,” you whisper against her skin, the words tumbling out between kisses.
“I love you too,” she breathes, her voice trembling just slightly, like she’s overwhelmed.
Your hands slide up her sides, gathering the hem of her loose shirt. You pause for a second, giving her a look, then you pull it up, revealing her pale skin inch by inch. The cold air hits her, making her shiver, and you notice the goosebumps rising on her arms. “Cold?” you ask softly.
“A little,” she admits, but there’s a teasing glint in her eye. “You can warm me up, right?”
You smirk. “Oh, I’ve got that covered.”
Her shirt ends up somewhere on the floor, forgotten, as your eyes roam over her. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breaths shallow, and her almost-flat breasts peek out from under her bra. You lean down, trailing kisses over her skin, starting at her stomach and working your way up, taking your time. Her breathing changes with every kiss, her chest heaving as you kiss the curve of her ribs, the dip between her breasts.
“You know I love these, right?” you murmur, your lips brushing over the top of her bra.
She rolls her eyes playfully, her cheeks flushing pink. “You’ve told me, like, a million times.”
“Yeah, but I never get tired of saying it,” you reply, slipping your fingers under the fabric and pulling the bra down enough to expose her. The cold air makes her nipples stiffen instantly, but your mouth is there a second later, warm and soft, replacing the chill with heat.
She gasps sharply, her back arching slightly as your lips close around her nipple. Your tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, and her hands fly to your hair, tangling in it as she pulls you closer. “God, that feels good,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
You hum against her skin, sucking gently, savoring the way her body reacts to every movement of your mouth. Your free hand slides up to her other breast, your fingers tracing lazy circles around the nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. She moans, her hips shifting under you, and you can feel the warmth of her thighs brushing against yours.
“You’re so perfect,” you say between kisses, moving to her other breast. “I could stay here forever.”
“Don’t say that,” she murmurs, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ll make me cry.”
You pause, looking up at her, your lips brushing against her skin. “Good tears or bad tears?”
She smiles down at you, her eyes shining. “Good ones.”
“Then I’ll keep going,” you whisper, lowering your mouth to her again.
Your mouth stays busy on her chest, sucking gently on her nipple while your tongue flicks over the hardened peak, earning another soft moan from her lips. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging slightly whenever you suck harder. It’s like she’s melting under you, her body arching and squirming, her little sounds only encouraging you to keep going.
As your lips trail from one breast to the other, your hand starts to wander. It slides down the flat plane of her stomach, her skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. You pause for a moment, just long enough to feel the slight hitch in her breathing as your fingers reach the waistband of her shorts. You know she's watching you now, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted like she’s waiting for what’s coming next.
You slip your hand under the fabric of her shorts and panties, your palm brushing against her hip, and immediately feel the heat radiating from her. When your fingers dip lower, the first thing you feel is how wet she already is. A low groan escapes your throat as your fingers slide over her slick folds, and you pull back just enough to murmur against her skin, “You’re soaked, baby.”
“Shut up,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no hiding the way her body reacts. Her hips shift instinctively, pressing herself against your hand, her breath coming out in quick, shaky bursts.
Your fingers glide over her, spreading her wetness as you find her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Her body jerks slightly, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her head falling back against the pillow.
“Feel good?” you ask, though the way her thighs tremble and try to close around your hand is answer enough.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice soft and high-pitched, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” you say with a grin, dipping your head back down to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple again, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make her squirm. At the same time, your fingers slide lower, slipping into her tight, dripping hole.
“Fuck,” you groan against her skin as you feel how warm and snug she is around your fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”
She lets out a choked moan, her hands flying to your shoulders, clutching you as your fingers start to move. Slow at first, pumping in and out of her while your thumb circles her clit. Her body reacts instantly, her hips rocking to meet your hand, her moans growing louder with every thrust.
“God, you’re amazing,” you murmur, kissing her chest, her neck, her jaw. “So fucking perfect.”
She’s trembling now, her breathing ragged as you pick up the pace. Your fingers curl inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp and cling to you like her life depends on it. “Right there,” she cries out, her nails digging into your skin. “Fuck, don’t stop, right there.”
“Anything for you,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with desire. Your thumb presses harder against her clit, and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers, her body tensing. Her moans are louder now, more desperate, her head tossing back as her legs start to shake.
It’s all too much for her—your mouth on her breasts, your fingers buried deep in her slick pussy, pumping and curling just right. Every time you move, every time you kiss her skin, her little moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand like she can’t get enough. Her nails dig into your shoulders as she gasps for air, her voice breaking into shaky little whimpers.
But even with all that, it’s not enough for her. She can feel the weight of your cock pressing against her thigh, thick and heavy, the heat of it radiating through your pants. It’s driving her insane. Her hips jerk erratically, chasing a friction that isn’t there, and her head tilts back as she lets out a desperate, needy moan.
“Babe,” she whines, her voice trembling, almost pathetic with how desperate she sounds. “I need you. Please. I need it.”
Her words make your cock throb, the sheer hunger in her tone lighting a fire in your chest. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look down at her. “You need what?” you ask, teasing, though your voice is rough, your own need barely held in check.
She groans in frustration, her cheeks flushed, her thighs trembling. “You know what I need!” she cries, her hands sliding down your chest, trying to tug at the waistband of your pants. “Please, I need your cock. I can’t wait anymore.”
The way she’s begging, her voice cracking with need, only makes you harder. Your fingers slow their pace inside her, and she whimpers at the loss of momentum, squirming beneath you. “You really want it that bad?” you murmur, pulling your hand out of her and holding it up before putting two fingers in your mouth to taste it. “You’re dripping for me, baby.”
“Yes!” she gasps, her hands fumbling with the button of your pants now, her impatience clear in every movement. “Please, just—just fuck me already. I need you.”
Her begging snaps what little control you were holding onto. “Alright,” you growl, sitting back on your knees and shoving your pants down. You don’t bother with underwear—you’re not wearing any—and your cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with precum. Dahyun's small hand immediately wraps around your cock, stroking it lightly, her breath catching.
“You’re so big,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Then come and get it,” you reply, leaning back against the headboard, your cock resting against your stomach, throbbing with anticipation.
She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands go to her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her shorts follow along with her panties, and now she’s naked, her pale skin glowing in the darkness. She’s perfect, every curve, every line of her body making your mouth water.
You grab her hips as she climbs onto your lap, straddling you, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You sure you can handle it?” you tease, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh.
“Shut up,” she mutters. “I need it.”
Her hands grip your shoulders as she tries to position herself, her body brushing against yours in the process. You can feel the heat of her pussy against your cock, and it makes you groan, your hands tightening on her hips.
“It’s hard to see,” she murmurs, frustration creeping into her tone as she shifts, trying to line herself up in the dark.
“Take your time, baby,” you say, though your voice is strained. Every time her slick folds brush against your cock, it sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Finally, she finds the angle she needs, and you both moan as the tip of your cock presses against her entrance. Slowly, she starts to sink down, her tight pussy stretching around you inch by inch.
“Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling forward, her nails digging into your shoulders as she lowers herself. “You’re so... fucking... big.”
“You’re so tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you try not to buck up into her. The heat and wetness of her pussy, the way it clenches around you, makes it almost impossible to stay still. “God, you feel so good.”
She’s breathing hard, her thighs trembling as she takes more of you, her pussy stretching to accommodate your girth. It’s slow, almost torturous, but finally, she’s seated all the way down, her ass resting against your thighs. She lets out a shaky moan of relief, her head falling back as her body adjusts to the fullness.
“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “You’re so deep... I can feel you everywhere.”
You tilt your head back, groaning as her walls flutter around you. “You’re perfect,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides, holding her steady as she starts to move. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you need it.”
The moment Dahyun starts moving, you know you’re in trouble. She wastes no time, her hips rolling and bouncing, her tight, wet pussy gripping you like a fucking vice. It’s almost overwhelming—how snug she is, how her heat wraps around you, dragging you deeper with every thrust. Even in the dark, with the only light coming from the occasional flicker of lightning outside, you don’t need to see her to know she looks incredible. Her small, pale body moving on top of you, her thighs trembling as she rides you like her life depends on it—you can feel it all, and it’s driving you insane.
“Fuck,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as she starts to pick up speed. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”
Her moans grow louder, higher-pitched, the sound raw and needy as she rocks her hips against you. Her hands are braced on your chest, her nails digging in for leverage as she moves. “God,” she whimpers, her voice shaky but insistent. “You’re so big. So fucking thick. I can feel you stretching me out.”
Your cock throbs at her words, a low growl rumbling in your chest. She always says shit like that, like she knows exactly how to get under your skin, how to push you closer to the edge. And fuck, it works every time. “You love it, don’t you?” you mutter, your voice rough. “You love how my cock fills you up.”
“Yes,” she cries out, her pace quickening, the wet sound of her pussy taking you echoing through the room. “I love it so much. I’m fucking addicted to it. To you.”
Her confession makes your grip on her hips tighten, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you help guide her movements. You can feel her tight little ass rubbing against your pelvis with every bounce, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “You feel so fucking good, Dahyun,” you groan, your head tilting back as she keeps going. “I can never get enough of you.”
The rain outside seems to be coming down harder, the sound of it pounding against the windows mixing with the slap of her skin against yours. Thunder rolls through the sky, loud and sharp, but neither of you pays it any attention. She’s too focused on the way your cock fills her, and you’re too caught up in the way her pussy clenches around you, milking you like she never wants to let go.
“You’re so deep,” she moans, her voice breaking slightly as she leans forward, her breath hot against your neck. “I can feel you... fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”
Her words make your cock twitch, and you glance down, even in the dim light, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. She’s so small, her frame so petite, that every time you’re buried inside her, you can see the faint outline of your cock bulging in her lower belly. It’s fucking intoxicating, knowing how much you fill her, how her tiny body takes you so perfectly.
“Look at that,” you murmur, your hand sliding between you to press gently against her stomach. She lets out a choked gasp, her hips stuttering for a moment as she feels the added pressure. “You feel that? That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you.”
“Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice high and shaky. “I feel it... I love it. I love how big you are. How you stretch me out.”
“Keep going,” you tell her, your hands moving back to her hips, urging her to keep moving. “Ride me, baby. Don’t stop.”
She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Her pace quickens again, her hips slamming down onto you with a desperate rhythm. Her moans grow louder, more frantic, the sound mixing with the rain and thunder as she completely loses herself in the feeling of you. Her thighs are trembling against your sides, her body working overtime to take all of you, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down.
“God, you’re amazing,” you groan, your hands roaming up and down her body, over her ribs, her waist, her thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect, Dahyun. I could watch you do this all night.”
“Then don’t stop watching,” she gasps, her voice breathless but teasing. “I’ll ride you as long as you want.”
And fuck, she means it. Even though you haven’t cum yet, and neither has she, the way she’s moving, the way her pussy grips you like she never wants to let you go—it’s enough to make you feel like you could lose it at any second. But you hold on, watching as she keeps going, her moans and gasps filling the room as she rides you like there’s no tomorrow.
Dahyun’s movements are growing more frantic now, her slim body bouncing on your cock with wild abandon. Her moans are louder, breathless and unrestrained, filling the room as her hips slap against yours. The wet, messy sounds of her tight pussy taking you echo beneath the storm outside, the rain beating against the windows a steady, distant drum. Her small hands cling to your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she rides you like she can’t get enough.
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist to steady her. “You’re so fucking good. Keep going, just like that.”
Her moans hitch, turning higher-pitched as she leans back slightly, her head tilting toward the ceiling. “It’s so good,” she whimpers, her voice shaky. “You’re so big—I feel so full.”
“Yeah?” you ask, your fingers pressing harder into her hips. “You like how my cock stretches you, don’t you?”
“Yes!” she cries out, her pace quickening as her thighs tremble around you. “I love it. I love you. It’s too much, I’m—” Her words break off into a sharp gasp, her body shuddering as she continues to bounce, every movement sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice rough and low as you watch her fall apart on top of you.
She nods frantically, her hands sliding up to your chest as she leans forward, her petite frame trembling with every movement. “So close,” she breathes, her voice almost a sob. “I can’t—oh god, I’m gonna—”
“Come here,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle as you pull her closer. She leans down, her breasts brushing against your chest, her flushed face inches from yours. You catch her lips in a messy, desperate kiss, your hands sliding up her back to hold her against you. She moans into your mouth, her hips still rocking against yours as you take over.
“I’m gonna make you cum,” you whisper against her lips, your breath hot and heavy. “Hold on tight, baby.”
With that, you adjust your legs on the bed, planting your feet for better leverage. Your hands move to her hips, holding her steady as you start to thrust up into her, hard and fast. The first deep, powerful stroke makes her cry out, her body jolting against yours.
“Oh my god!” she gasps, her voice high-pitched and trembling as you pound into her tight, soaking pussy.
“You like that?” you growl, your thrusts relentless as you drive into her over and over, each one hitting deeper, harder, making her walls squeeze around you like a vice.
“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes!” she screams, her head dropping onto your shoulder as her nails rake down your back. “I love it! Don’t stop—please don’t stop!”
Her moans are louder now, right in your ear, and fuck, it’s exactly what you need. The sound of her losing herself, the way her voice breaks with every thrust, sends a thrill through you. “That’s it,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”
She doesn’t hold back, her cries spilling out freely as you keep slamming into her, your cock hitting her deep, her pussy clenching tighter with every thrust. “It’s so good,” she babbles, her words slurring together. “You’re so good, so big, I can’t—I’m gonna—oh god, I’m gonna—”
“Come on, Dahyun,” you urge her, your voice low and rough. “Let go. Cum for me. I want to feel you.”
Her body stiffens suddenly, her back arching as she lets out a sharp, broken cry. “Oh fuck!” she screams, her walls clamping down around you as she finally falls over the edge. Her whole body shakes, her hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.
You keep thrusting into her, your cock buried to the hilt as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches around you in rhythmic pulses, so tight it’s almost painful, but you don’t stop. You grind deeper, chasing that sweet friction even as she squirms, her breath hitching in overstimulated gasps.
“Too much—too much,” she whines, her voice cracking, but her hips jerk forward anyway, betraying her. You can’t see her face in the dark, but you know she’s rolling her eyes—that mix of annoyed and amused she always gets when you push her past her limits.
“You love it,” you growl, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath, your hands pinning her trembling thighs wide. Her skin is slick with sweat, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and her vanilla lotion.
She collapses against your chest, panting, her heartbeat wild against yours. “You’re… insane,” she mutters, but there’s a laugh tangled in her words. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your shoulder, shaky but still teasing.
You smirk, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Not even close to done with you.”
Before she can protest, you flip her onto her back, the mattress groaning as you loom over her. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, heels digging into your ass like she’s already begging for more. The faint glow of lightning spills through the curtains, illuminating her flushed face, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark and hungry.
“Gonna fuck you until I fill you up,” you say, voice rough. Your cock twitches, still rock-hard, leaking precum inside her pussy. “You want that? Want me to cum deep inside you?”
Her breath hitches. She bites her lip, her hips tilt upward, inviting. “Yes,” she whispers, then louder, desperate: “Fuck, yes—please, I need it. Need you to—ah—!”
You don’t let her finish. You slam into her, one brutal thrust that steals her voice, her back arching off the bed. She’s so fucking wet, her pussy swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, but she takes you greedily, her nails raking down your spine.
“Harder,” she demands, her legs tightening around you. “Don’t fucking hold back—give it to me.”
You oblige. Your hips piston into her, the slap of skin echoing beneath the storm’s dying growls. Every snap of your pelvis drags a broken moan from her throat, her walls fluttering around you like she’s trying to milk you dry. She’s a mess—hair tangled, chest heaving, tears clinging to her lashes from the intensity—but she’s yours, unraveling again under your hands.
“You feel that?” you grunt, driving deeper, your balls slapping against her ass. “Gonna pump you so full, you’ll drip for days.”
She whimpers, her head thrashing against the pillow. “Do it—fuck, cum in me—I want it, want you—”
You feel it first in your balls—that coiled, electric tension snapping tight as Dahyun’s pussy milks you, her walls fluttering like a fucking vice around your cock. “Gonna cum,” you warn, voice shredded, hips stuttering as you drive into her one last time. She claws at your back, her moans pitching higher. “Do it—fill me up, please—!”
Your release hits like a detonation—thick, pulsing ropes of cum surging deep into her. You groan, low and guttural, as you pump her full, your cock twitching with every hot jet that floods her tight pink cunt. She gasps, her legs shaking where they’re hooked around your waist, her nails digging crescent moons into your skin. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice breaking, “it’s so hot—I can feel it—”
You grind your hips harder, burying yourself to the root as your cum spills into her, the wet slap of your skin against hers echoing in the dark. Her pussy clenches greedily, sucking every drop from you, her breath coming in ragged hitches as you fill her. “That’s it,” you rasp, your forehead pressed to hers, “take it all, baby. Take all my fucking cum.”
She keens, her back arching off the mattress as your cum leaks around your cock, dripping down her thighs. The smell of sex—musky and sweet—hangs thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rain still clinging to the windows. You collapse onto her, both of you slick with sweat, your chests heaving as you ride out the aftershocks.
Minutes later, the room is quieter the storm outside reduced to a soft, distant hum. Dahyun’s curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin. Your cum is still leaking out of her, pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets, but neither of you care. The mess is part of it—part of this, the raw, unfiltered intimacy that comes after.
You run your fingers through her hair, the strands silky and damp with sweat. She hums softly, her body melting into yours, her legs tangled with yours under the covers. “You good?” you ask, your voice low and rough, but tender.
She tilts her head up to look at you, her big brown eyes glazed but content. “Mm. Better than good,” she murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You?”
“Never better,” you say, brushing a thumb over her cheek. She leans into the touch, her skin warm and flushed.
Her hand trails down your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your abs. “You know,” she starts, her voice teasing, “you’re kinda insufferable when you’re all… post-sex smug.”
You snort, pulling her closer. “Says the girl who just begged me to fill her up.”
She smacks your chest lightly, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Shut up,” she mutters, though her cheeks flush pink. “I was vulnerable.”
“Uh-huh.” You press a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering against her skin. “And now you’re not scared of the storm anymore, huh?”
She glances toward the window, where the rain taps gently against the glass. “What storm?” she says, her tone light and playful. “I don’t even remember what I was scared of.”
You chuckle, your hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight.”
She shifts slightly, her body pressing even closer to yours, her warmth seeping into your skin. “Like I’d want to,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your chest.
You smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. The room smells like sex and rain, the air thick with the kind of quiet that only comes after something real. Her heartbeat syncs with yours, steady and slow, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.
“You’re my favorite,” she says suddenly, her voice soft but sure.
You glance down at her, raising an eyebrow. “Favorite what?”
“Everything,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Back at you, Dahyunnie,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to her hair.
She sighs, content, her body relaxing completely against yours. Outside, the storm fades into nothing, but inside, it’s just her warmth, your arms, and the quiet promise of more nights like this.
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puppetwoman17 · 3 months ago
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The Marvel family being more stable than any other superhero family is my bread and butter. Like you see all these other groups having various amounts of discourse. Arguments between hero and sidekick, family drama, dead family members coming back and hating everyone else(and no, that’s not exclusive to the bats, it actually happens a lot).
And then you have the Marvel family in the background, planning out their next trip to Disney World or whatever.
I kid you not, in Power of Shazam, Junior and Marvel did have a fight, and he did leave for like half of the series. So when they reunite you’d expect some bad blood and Freddy immediately leaving, right?
WRONG! Freddy takes the twins to the movies and tells them he has his license so he’s like “Hey, wanna go on a joyride?” And they’re like “YES!” And they just have the best time because Billy is Freddy’s little brother and he won’t let anything get in the way of their friendship. And him and Mary went right back to being sweet to each other, which, I’m not the biggest fan of their ship, but it was cute nonetheless.
You could add in Dudley and Tawny and it still wouldn’t budge. Adam’s like a fly on the wall. Adrianna and Amon are vibing with their new extended family and Billy’s side eying his magic-related brother because how did he bag ISIS?
And then there’s the Shazamily. With…literally nothing wrong. It’s just eight foster kids making a home. Add in Malik who is a very confused brother/cousin, and Tawny because he deserves to be here.
While everyone else is going through new trauma, the Shazamily/Marvel family are vibing on their magic train.
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skyguytoast · 11 days ago
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞...
warning: some of the headcanons are +18 and explicit
a/n: hii, i really should finish my college essay, but this idea popped into my head and i couldn't help but write... it got a little poetic in some parts, but i hope you enjoy it ;)
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• At first, Hayden fought his feelings for you tooth and nail. He was a man of strong morals, someone who always prided himself on doing the right thing. Falling for someone significantly younger than him? That wasn't part of the plan. But then you appeared—carefree, confident, and completely unlike anyone he’d ever met before. You turned his world upside down, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay away.
• There was no way Hayden was going to make the first move. He convinced himself over and over that what he felt was nothing more than admiration, curiosity at best. But you? You saw right through him. When you asked him out, he tried to laugh it off, say something about just being friends, but he couldn’t resist you. The first few times, it really was just friendly meetups—until one day, it wasn’t.
• When Hayden finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he did it in the most ridiculously romantic way. He had spent weeks planting your favorite flowers in a small garden, waking up early to tend to them himself, getting dirt under his nails, just to make sure they bloomed perfectly. When the moment came, he took your hand and walked you through the rows of blossoms, his voice quiet but sure as he finally admitted, "I don’t want to pretend anymore. I love you."
• He was always building things for you. A bookshelf when he noticed your books piling up, a handmade chair just because he wanted you to have something crafted with his hands. He’d spent hours sanding and staining the wood, never once complaining because he knew how much it would mean to you. Seeing your face light up when you saw what he made? That was his favorite part.
• Late at night, when the world quieted down, Hayden loved nothing more than wrapping his arms around you from behind. Standing out on the balcony, watching the stars, he’d rest his chin on your head and murmur, "You know you’ve completely ruined me, right?" And yet, he wouldn’t change a thing.
• Forget fancy Hollywood outings—Hayden preferred the simple moments. Trips to the farmers’ market where he’d pick out fresh fruit for you, afternoons spent browsing old bookstores, lazy beach days where he’d carry you over the hot sand so you wouldn’t burn your feet. Life was slower, sweeter, and infinitely better with you by his side.
• Bringing you into his world meant bringing you into his daughter’s world too. Blair adored you from the start, and before long, the three of you became inseparable. Family outings to the park, movie nights with popcorn fights, and trips to Disney where Blair would completely ignore Darth Vader because meeting Princess Aurora was way more important.
• At your insistence, Hayden finally made an Instagram. It was supposed to be just for checking out Star Wars fan pages and keeping up with you, but somehow, it turned into something else. His entire feed was filled with you—candid shots he took when you weren’t looking, blurry pictures of your smile, videos of you laughing until you cried. It was less of an Instagram account and more of a personal love letter.
• Hayden was endlessly patient when it came to the public scrutiny. He knew people had opinions—about the age gap, about him dating someone so much younger—but he didn’t care. Every time a snide comment surfaced online, he’d just look at you, smile, and say, "Let them talk. I know what we have."
• And when the world got too loud, he always had a way of making you feel safe. Whether it was holding your hand under the table during interviews, pulling you into a slow dance in the kitchen just to see you smile, or whispering against your skin at night, "I love you, and I’m not going anywhere." Because at the end of the day, you were his peace, and he was yours.
+𝟏𝟖 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒)
• Hayden transformed each intimate encounter into a loving tribute, a sacred ritual dedicated solely to you. It was never merely about physical pleasure, but an act of deep devotion and adoration. As he explored your body with tender, reverent hands, he marveled at your beauty, murmuring awestruck words of love and gratitude. Each discovery, from the curve of your hip to the way your skin flushed beneath his touch, filled him with wonder and humility. Hayden knew he was the luckiest man alive to call you his.
• You had the power to make Hayden feel invincible, like a king surveying his kingdom as you took him into the warm, silken depths of your mouth. Your lips and tongue worshipped him with an enthusiasm and affection that set his very soul ablaze. You made his cock jump and throb with renewed vigor, painting him harder than anything. Hayden was no longer a resilient youth, but his desire for you was timeless and unyielding, a force of nature. With every swirl of your tongue and bob of your head, you made him feel like the only man in existence, the center of your universe.
• As your shared climax approached, Hayden's forehead pressed against yours, your breaths mingling, your hearts pounding as one. In the charged silence between gasps and sighs, a thousand unspoken words passed between you - a telepathic dance of love, lust, and ecstasy. Pleasure built upon pleasure, cresting in a tidal wave that crashed over you, binding you in its foaming embrace. In those blissful, electrifying moments, you were not two separate beings, but a single, wonderful sensation.
• Hayden's head lolled back, eyes squeezing shut as your lips enveloped his sensitive flesh, your warm mouth a heavenly cocoon. The feeling of your tongue, your breath, your worshipful suckling - it set his blood alight, making his heart carwheel wildly in his chest. A symphony of masculine cries, low and guttural, filled the air as Hayden surrendered himself to your oral attentions. His fingers tangled almost desperately in your hair, anchoring himself to this earth as you pushed him towards the heavens. Moans and whimpers tumbled from his lips, a fervent, instinctive plea for you to keep going, to never stop, his body trembling with the intensity of his pleasure. The sound of your name fell from his lips like a prayer, a benediction, a desperate entreaty. In that moment, you were his religion, his reason for worship, his everything.
• Though the years had begun to etch their subtle lines upon Hayden's handsome face and his body no longer sprang back to rigid attention as readily as in his youth, his desire for you remained undiminished, a relentless force that laid siege to your senses. He may not match your youthful vigor in speed, but he more than made up for it in skill and ardent devotion. Hayden's tongue, a masterful instrument honed by years, could bring you to the brink of rapture with a single, languid caress. He took his time, savoring every flush, every fold, his lips painting a roadmap of pleasure upon your silken flesh. He feasted on your pussy as if it were the nectar of the gods, his blue eyes flickering up to drink in the sight of your abandon, your back arched, your fingers fisted in his blonde hair. He reveled in the taste, the scent, the very essence of your arousal, losing himself in the act of loving you, of worshipping you with every skillful sweep of his tongue. Slow and steady, he stoked the flames of your desire, his own lust burning hotter with each throaty moan he drew from your lips. Age had not cooled Hayden's passion, but only refined his technique, honing him into a connoisseur of your every fleeting taste and texture. He was a maestro at the podium, orchestrating your pleasure with the singular obsession of a man who knew he was playing for an audience of one - you. And as he pleasured you, he made it his personal mission to grow hard again, to rise to the occasion until he filled you once more, his body a testament to his bottomless, enduring love.
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burrowdarling · 2 months ago
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A Magical Surprise
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Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!
Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader
Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement
Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!
Word Count: 1.8k
Check out my Masterlist here!
Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!
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You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.
In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 
You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 
“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.
Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 
After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 
You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.
“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.
“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 
After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.
“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.
“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.
You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 
You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 
Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.
“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 
“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.
“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.
As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 
When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 
“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 
Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.
“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.
“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 
“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.
“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.
“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.
“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.
“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.
“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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It Won't Be Long | Rooster x Reader
Summary: How are you supposed to tell your family that you have to leave? Especially when everything still feels new and flawless and beautiful? Bradley knows it will be rough to break the news to you, but telling Everett will be so much worse.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, adult language
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!
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"Oh, shit."
Bradley's heart sank as he read the paperwork that Maverick just handed to him. "Fuck," he groaned, fighting the urge to crumple up the pages. The sounds of conversation buzzing around him in the rec room faded to a dull noise that set his teeth on edge as he thought about how he was going to explain this to you. And even worse....how he would tell Everett. 
"Sorry, Rooster," Maverick replied, cuffing him on the shoulder, but Bradley didn't move except to shake his head a fraction of an inch. He should have known this was coming. He should have been prepared for this, but it felt like a slap in the face. You and he had only been married for less than six months, and he still felt like this was very much the honeymoon phase. How the hell was he supposed to spend a single day without you and Everett, let alone one hundred of them?
He'd been planning to take the three of you up to Disneyland for a little overnight trip during spring break. Kind of a precursor to a longer vacation to Disney World in Orlando in the summer. Well, now he'd be missing all of spring break. And he was going to miss opening day at Petco Park, too.
He vaguely registered that Maverick dismissed him early, and he heard Bob calling his name as he headed for the door. He stopped but didn't turn around as he told his future brother-in-law, "I'll call you later." He'd have to tell Bob and Molly soon, because you and Everett would need them if anything happened while Bradley was deployed, but he didn't want to talk about it with anyone until he told you himself. 
When he got home before you, it gave him plenty of time to mope while he got dinner in the oven. He decided to take a long shower, suddenly wanting nothing more than to change out of his fucking uniform. The Valentine's Day card he gave you a few days ago was still propped up on your dresser, and he sighed when he looked at the pretty flowers still blooming beautifully in the vase next to it. When he opened the card and read what he'd written, he wasn't surprised to find that he had it practically memorized after spending hours agonizing about what to say to his wife on a day dedicated to being in love.
Kitten, 
You changed my life and everything in it for the better last spring, and not a minute goes by that I'm not thinking about you. I hope you'll let me love you every Valentine's Day for the rest of my life. I hope you'll love me back for all of them. I'm so happy you're my wife.
Love,
Bradley
P.S.- How do you feel about wearing your collar, leash and your bodysuit tonight?
He set the card down again with a soft groan and stripped out of his uniform. The shower felt amazing, and he treated himself to your expensive body wash before he rinsed himself off. When he put on his sweatpants and started looking for a tee shirt, everything in his drawer seemed to have Top Gun or Navy Waves printed on it. He just wasn't in the mood for any of it since he knew he was about to have two conversations he'd really rather skip, so he pulled on the Phillies shirt that he got for Christmas from you and Everett.
The kitchen timer started going off at the same time he heard your car in the driveway, and Bradley ran back downstairs to get dinner out of the oven. "You're home early!" you said, bursting through the front door with Everett by your side, and for the first time since this morning, everything seemed more colorful and loud in a good way.
"Dad! I aced my math test!" Everett said as he came running into the kitchen, waving a sheet of paper in the air. "A hundred percent!"
Bradley's heart clenched as he picked Everett up in a hug and buried his face against him. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. That's what happens when you stop rushing through your homework."
He held onto his son a little longer than he normally would before kissing his cheek and setting him down. You eyed him closely as you dumped your work stuff on one of the chairs. He must have done something to give himself away, because a second later, you said, "Ev, you promised you'd take ten minutes to clean your room before dinner."
"Fine," he replied, his voice right on the edge of whining. Normally Bradley would remind him not to talk to you that way, but he let it slide right now. Everett headed for the stairs, and once he was out of sight, you were in Bradley's arms. 
"What's wrong, Coach?" you asked, running your fingers along his cheek before pushing them through his damp hair. "What's bothering you?"
When you gently kissed him, he didn't stop you. And when it took him a minute to reply, you didn't rush him. "Baby... I'm being deployed."
Your grip on him grew incrementally tighter as you whispered, "Oh. When?" 
His forehead met yours as he forced out the sentence, "I have to leave mid March, and I'm due back on Ev's birthday."
When you nodded, he could tell you were still letting his words settle in your mind. You took a deep breath and huffed out a little laugh as you whispered, "That's a long time."
Bradley swallowed down his guilt. "It's too damn long. I don't want to go fourteen weeks without you and Ev. I don't even like going a whole day when I can help it. I'm supposed to be here with you."
You nodded, and when you spoke, he could hear the tears in your voice. "We managed without you before, we can do it again. At least you'll get home on his birthday."
He collected you tighter against his body as he groaned. He would rather do almost anything other than miss his son's eighth birthday. "Kitten. Sometimes the dates aren't accurate. Sometimes the carriers run behind schedule. One time I returned a week later than I anticipated." 
You made a soft sound that left him reeling. "Well, if that happens, then I'll explain it to him. And we'll deal with it."
"Fuck," he grunted, slipping out of your grasp and gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands as his anger flared. "I don't want the two of you to have to deal with me missing out on celebrations. I already bought tickets for Ev and I to go to see the Padres on opening day! I was going to let him skip school! If I miss his birthday, I swear I'll be fucking sick, Kitten! And if Molly doesn't have the baby before March fifteenth, then I won't get to meet him until he's three months old!"
"Bradley," you whispered, ducking under his arm so you were right there between him and the counter. "Listen to me," you said, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "This is why we love you so much. Because you love us so much."
You had tears in your eyes that matched his as he muttered, "I still feel like we just got married. Like every day with you is so exciting. And Ev didn't grow up with a military dad. He's not used to my lifestyle. I..." Bradley paused and dipped his head down, staring at your work shoes as he said, "I feel important every day because both of you rely on me for things around here. More than just my income. Ev and I do his homework together, and I like helping you cook meals. And I live for taking him to the park to play baseball. I live for it, Kitten."
With two firm hands under his chin, you shifted him so he was looking at you. "I said we would be able to manage without you because we did it before. We know how to do it. Not that we would enjoy ourselves, Bradley. My heart will hurt with worry every day that you're gone, and Everett will miss you because you're essential to his happiness. But this is part of your career, and you're very good at it."
Bradley knew he was crying now as he said, "I'll miss the beginning of his baseball season. He's the only one from his old team who is going to play real ball again this spring instead of tee ball."
You smiled and kissed his cheek. "All thanks to you. And I'll take a million videos for you to watch. I'll email them so you can scrutinize his technique, and then I'll help him improve. I mean, look how much more I know about baseball since I first met you."
Of course your words made him feel a little better. They always did. You always validated his place in this family when he started to doubt himself. "You've come a long way, Kitten. And it's a good thing, too, because I don't think Ev is going to lose interest in baseball any time soon."
You smiled as your lips skimmed his. "I really hope not since the two of you turned the extra bedroom into a Phillies shrine."
"Why are you both crying?"
Bradley's gaze snapped toward Everett who was halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the kitchen with a concerned look on his face. "Ev," he started, unsure how to handle this conversation. Part of him wanted to wait until after the three of you had eaten dinner, but right now, he looked very upset.
"Is Aunt Molly okay?" he asked softly. "She was crying the other day when she said the baby was hurting her back."
When Bradley still hesitated, you said, "Aunt Molly is fine. She texted me a picture of her swollen feet at lunchtime." Then you leaned in closer and whispered, "Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No," Bradley replied immediately. "No, I'll do it." But it was harder than he thought it would be to get the words out in a way that would make sense to a seven year old. Why had he convinced himself that he'd be good at this parenting thing? He didn't even know what the hell to say right now. "Grab our gloves," he told his son. "Let's go out back and toss a ball around before we eat dinner."
Everett perked up immediately and ran off, only to return with two well worn baseball gloves and a baseball. "Okay."
Bradley slipped on a pair of shoes. "Okay."
Wordlessly, they threw the ball around for a bit, the quiet space soothing the part of Bradley that was terrified of fucking this up. "Hey, Kiddo?"
"Yeah, Dad?" Everett asked as he threw a scorcher to Bradley.
"You remember how we talked about deployments before?"
"Yeah." His voice was softer this time, and his face fell a little bit. "I remember. It's when you have to go way out into the ocean and fly off of an aircraft carrier."
"Yeah," Bradley croaked, squeezing the ball as hard as he could in his right hand. "I'm going to have to leave to do that in a few weeks."
He watched as his son tried to be strong and keep it together, but then Everett's face crumpled as he started crying. "But you said that lasts for months," he said as he looked at the ground, and Bradley rushed toward him. "And I heard Jayden in my class say deployments are really dangerous."
"Ev," he replied, dropping the ball and his glove and kneeling right in front of him. He swiped at the tears with his fingers as he said, "I can't stand it when you cry. It breaks my heart." 
But Everett just cried more. "I don't want you to leave now. You just got here!"
"Kiddo," he whispered, wrapping him up in a hug. "I'll be back soon. It won't be long. Nothing we can't handle."
"But what if something happens to you?" 
Bradley's heart shattered and was immediately put back together. He hated making you and Everett worry about him, but the fact that you both loved him enough to care made him feel whole. He kissed his son's tear streaked cheeks and said, "The only thing that's going to happen is me flying around in my jet for a few weeks before I come right back home. Sounds pretty boring, right?"
He nodded against Bradley's shoulder. "Yeah, I guess so."
Bradley kissed his forehead and whispered, "I'll be so bored without you. I'm going to need you and Mom to take a bunch of photos and videos and email them to me all day long. And I'll need you to ace all your school assignments and be well behaved for everyone except your Aunt Molly. You think you can do that?"
Everett shrugged, but when his glove slipped off of his hand, he hugged Bradley around the neck. "I'll try, Dad. But I'll miss you."
A tear slipped down Bradley's cheek as he managed to say, "I'll miss you, too."
-------------------------
"It's not time yet," you told Everett as he sat on the couch with the iPad on his lap, staring at it longingly. "Ten more minutes. Why don't you finish your math homework while you wait?"
"Because I like doing my math homework with Dad," Everett explained as he looked at you like you were absolutely ridiculous for even suggesting such a thing. "I want to solve the problem with him."
Even though it meant you would have less time to talk to your husband about other things, you'd let Everett do math homework with him over FaceTime. It wasn't like Bradley was going to complain. They were two peas in a pod. Everett even had the Phillies current pitching stats printed out and ready to share. 
"You'll have to show him your countdown, too. We're getting closer."
Before Bradley left, he and Everett cut up countless strips of paper and wrote numbers on them so Everett could conduct a countdown until his eighth birthday. Until the day Bradley was supposed to return home. There had been a gigantic paper chain snaking through the house, but now you were down to your final ten loops. Just ten more days without Bradley.
When the iPad rang, Everett nearly dropped it in his excitement, and you ran in from the kitchen. "Dad!" he said as Bradley's handsome face filled the screen.
"Hey, Ev," he said, sounding exhausted and relieved. "I miss you, Kiddo. Where's Mom?" 
"She's right here." 
Your son tilted the screen, and Bradley sighed. "Kitten."
"Bradley! We miss you. Ten more days!"
A crooked smile broke out on his face, and he kept his eyes on you for a beat longer while Everett started telling him all about baseball practice with his new coach and how his baby cousin Charlie threw up yesterday and about how the Phillies won three games in a row. You lost him to your son just like you knew you would as soon as Everett asked him for help with his homework. 
You sat quietly on the couch while Bradley looked at the math sheet and helped him work through the problem. Then Everett showed him the remaining length of the paper chain countdown, and as soon as that was finished, Bradley said, "Great job, Kiddo. Now why don't you go clean your room up before bed while I talk to Mom?"
"Okay. Love you, Dad!"
"I love you, too," he promised. "And I'll see you on your birthday."
Everett handed you the iPad and ran upstairs to his bedroom. "After all that, I only get three minutes alone with my husband this week," you said with a little smirk.
Bradley groaned and shook his head. "I can guarantee when I get home, I'll be on you nonstop. Don't worry about that, Baby. We won't sleep for days."
You bit your lip and laughed as he groaned. "What do you want for your birthday, Coach?"
He glanced around the small room where he was sitting before he said, "You can find that information written in your Valentine's Day card. Maybe throw in some vanilla frosting, and I'll be all set."
"Sounds good," you replied, and his smile grew. "We'll count down to Ev's birthday, and then we'll count down to yours."
"Speaking of which, did you get his present ready? All wrapped up in a box?"
You nodded as your heart fluttered. "Exactly to your specifications," you promised, picturing the package you had stashed in the linen closet.
"Perfect. I need to make it up to him for missing opening day for the Padres. I hated disappointing him."
As you glanced around your living room at the remaining countdown numbers and Everett's completed math homework, you said, "Something tells me you could never truly disappoint him. See you in ten days, my love."
-------------------------
"Dad!"
Bradley rushed through the crowd on the dock and headed for his family. You looked beautiful, and somehow Everett looked like he grew six inches in three months, but everything was perfect again once he had an arm wrapped around each of you. He kissed your lips and squeezed you to his side. "I missed you, Kitten," he murmured, knowing you wouldn't be too mad if you weren't his main focus until later tonight. "Happy birthday, Kiddo," he said with a smile as he released you to hug his son. "I missed you, too."
Everett clung to him when Bradley knelt down, and he stood up again with him in his arms. "Last week, my new coach said I have a heck of an arm. And school's already over. Mom took a video of my last day on Friday. You have to watch seventeen new videos from last week. We can watch them together tomorrow before we go out for pizza with baby Charlie and Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob."
Bradley buried his face against Everett's shoulder, excited to hear him talking a mile a minute in person. "Absolutely. But first, let's get home and open your birthday present."
The ride in your car was filled with your voice and Everett's, and Bradley sat back with a smile on his face and his fingers laced with yours. "How was the aircraft carrier?" Everett asked.
"Boring, loud and uncomfortable. And they never showed the Phillies games on TV."
"We can watch the game recaps!"
Bradley was already daydreaming about taking a few days off work, lounging on the couch with Everett until lunchtime, going to the park to play baseball, and then making love to you all night.
"We can definitely watch the game recaps," he promised as you pulled into the driveway next to Bradley's prized Bronco. "But first, I really want you to open your birthday present."
He didn't change out of his uniform. He didn't even remove his boots. He just gave Everett the box wrapped in red and white paper after you handed it to him, and he watched his son tear into the paper while your hands came to rest on his chest. "You are the only birthday present that kid wanted," you whispered.
Bradley felt the flush rising in his cheeks as you kissed his neck, but Everett had the lid off the box now. "I don't know about that, Kitten. I think he'll like this one," Bradley replied as Everett put the Phillie Phanatic hat on his head and read the paper he found in the box out loud.
"Three tickets for the Phillies game at Citizens Bank Park! On the Fourth of July! Behind the dugout! That's where the Phanatic dances! We can see the Phanatic for real! In Philadelphia!"
"Told you," Bradley whispered against your lips as Everett ran around the living room, already thrilled for his first trip to Philly.
But you were shaking your head and looking up at him with the most sincere expression as you said, "Just wait for it."
And you were right. A few minutes later, after Everett's excitement for his Phillies tickets tapered off a bit, he asked, "Dad, can we build a blanket tent and watch Toy Story and eat popcorn?"
Bradley paused where he was unlacing his boots and smiled. "Under one condition."
Everett smiled back and shrugged. "Okay. What is it?"
Bradley tossed his boots aside and said, "We change into our matching baseball pajamas and grab the stuffed Phanatic from your bedroom. And Mom gets to join us, too."
"Deal."
An hour and a half later, Bradley was watching one of his favorite movies with two of his favorite people. You were feeding him popcorn and teasing his hair as you lay with your head on his shoulder in the blanket fort. Everett was sound asleep, draped across Bradley's chest, and it felt so good to be home, he almost started crying. 
"I missed this so much," he whispered, kissing Everett's forehead. "Missed my family."
You hummed softly as you raked your fingers through his hair. "Like I said, going to the Phillies game will be great and all, but having you home today was the only thing he really needed for his birthday."
Bradley grinned and asked, "And does my Kitten need me, too?"
You popped up from his shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you carry Ev up to his bed, and then I'll let you find out."
-------------------------
I love emo Coach Bradley, and it was definitely time to check in with the three of them. He never wants to be the reason Everett cries, but that kid loves him so much, it's unavoidable. Let's check back in with them again soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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thoughtsonkm · 5 months ago
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Oh, to have a lover that runs through the airport to get to you sooner just so he can cook you dinner. A lover that will climb a mountain just to bring you back the snow that you adore so much. A handsome lover that will shamelessly beg you to come over while he's still wrapped up in his sheets. A lover who will plan a trip and fly you to Tokyo just to take you to Disney when the whole park is themed after the movie that inspired your signature. A lover that will remember everything about you and every experience you've shared with the most precious detail. A lover who will scold you with a smile on his face and is unafraid of looking silly just to make you laugh.
But also
Oh, to be a lover that runs across the stage to be by their side when they are hurting. A lover that will fly halfway around the world just to be with them on their birthday. A lover who will listen intently as they talk about even the mundane things like sand fleas and bikers. A lover who will give them butterflies after all these years and even while you're covered in mosquito bites. A lover who will hold them and wipe their tears when they cry. A lover who will make them feel safe and secure to be their chatty, teasy, energetic, sensitive self when they are with you. A lover who will praise them to the moon and provide constant assurance of your love for the art and things they produce. A lover who will get scolded with a smile on your face and is unafraid of looking silly just to make them laugh.
What's that saying again? Ah yes, "Love is a road that goes both ways".
✨Jimin & Jungkook everyone✨
If you see me crying in a corner mind your own business.
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mothandpidgeon · 2 months ago
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Sing a Song of Sixpence (Joel Miller's Christmas Vacation)
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Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
rating: G (fluff)
summary: Sarah requests a special trip over Christmas vacation. Joel does whatever it takes to make her wishes come true.
contents: fluff, 90s nostalgia, colonial america?
wc: 1.2k
a/n: Happy holidays to my Secret Santa, @whocaresstillthelouvre! Surprise but not really. Mallory, i knew we were going to be friends when you told me how much you love Colonial Williamsburg. I couldn't believe I found someone that overlapped in so many of my little niches. So when you told me that I was your secret Santa, I knew your fic was going to be about your favorite place. Thank you for being such a great friend, supporting me and my writing, and being my stoner buddy. I hope you enjoy your gift!
Thank you @schnarfer and @moonlitbirdie for giving this a once over! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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Sarah clutches her doll as she skips down the red brick sidewalk.
Joel hadn’t realized just how expensive a toy could be until he shelled out the $86 to buy it. Sarah had begged and begged before he gave in and got it for her. “Felicity Doll” had been on every wish list, the American Girl catalogue left open on the kitchen table for two whole years. Sarah read and re-read not only the Felicity series but Addy, Kiersten, and Samantha, too, the paperback books creased and dog eared. This was no passing fad, not a fleeting interest, and so Joel saved up and surprised her with an American Girl doll of her very own for her birthday. 
She knew what was in the tall, rectangular box before she’d even unwrapped the damn thing, screeching and running around the living room in celebration. Sarah loved the doll, taking it everywhere with her, tucking it in bed beside her. Best money Joel had ever spent.
Except Felicity had a plethora of accessories and outfits, furniture and accouterments that all cost a handsome sum. More catalogues came, glossy pages with marker drawn circles around Felicity’s tea set and writing desk and pony. (“The doll has a pony?” “It’s in the books, Daddy!”) There were cookbooks and paper dolls and Sarah-sized colonial dresses that she desperately needed. It seemed that Joel was personally bankrolling the Pleasant Company.
And now he’d agreed to bring Sarah to Colonial Williamsburg. He really hadn’t had the heart to say no to her when she ask that they take a family trip there over winter break though he knew it would cost him an arm and a leg. 
“Wouldn’t you rather go to Disney World?” Tommy asked.
Joel shot him a look. Disney would’ve cost three times as much but it wasn’t about the money. He was proud of his little girl for being a bookworm, choosing museums and butter churns over roller coasters and Minnie Mouse. 
“It’s where Felicity’s from,” she insisted. 
Sarah leads Joel by the hand down Duke of Gloucester Street. The quaint little houses are all decorated for the season– around each doorway is an evergreen garlands accented with fat, red bows. There’s a chill in the air. He hadn’t considered the weather in Virginia when he’d planned this vacation. Sarah doesn’t seem to notice, excitedly pointing out the carolers on the corner and the horse drawn carriage conveying tourists down the sandy street. 
Sarah devours every little detail, listening with eyes like saucers as the interpreters dressed in old fashioned costumes drone on about milliners and beeswax candles. 
Joel’s mind just keeps slipping back to the fact that he and Tommy aren’t working right now. A whole week with no income.That’s going to hurt when the credit card bill comes in.
”D’you think they ever sniped a redcoat with one of those?” Tommy asks on a tour of the Governor’s Palace, nodding towards one of the many guns hanging on the ceiling.
Sarah shushes him.
”Hey,”Joel whispers to his brother. “Remind me when we’re back at the motel, I’ve got to call and get those tiles ordered for the duplex project.”
”C’mon man. You’re thinking about work now?” Tommy complains.
”Can’t lose another day. Order it now, it’ll be waiting for us when we’re back,” Joel explains. 
“Daddy! You’re not listening!” Sarah hisses.
“Sorry, babygirl,” he says, squeezing her hand in his.
He tries to pay attention, he really does. Joel’s never had much of a mind for history. Dates and places and stuffy old men. The buildings are interesting, at least. He amuses himself wondering what it would be like to build a house like they did in the olden days. A rough saw and a chisel and his bare hands. Like a pioneer on the homestead.
There’s a gift shop at the end of the tour. Of course. Joel lets out a sigh of resignation. Sarah knows better than to ask but she’s eyeing a tin whistle and a book about ghost sightings. 
“Pick one,” Joel offers, hoping she goes for the book. The last thing he needs is Tommy’s yammering and the squeal of Yankee Doodle for the rest of the trip.
Her brown eyes move between the two souvenirs, lips twisted in thought. 
“Shit. I’ll buy you both if your Dad’ll wear this,” Tommy says with a laugh. He’s holding up a little felt tricorn hat meant for elementary school kids.
”Really?” Sarah asks, all bright and giggling. 
Joel glowers.
Dinner is a fifteen dollar hamburger at one of the historical taverns. Sarah’s doll gets its own seat at the table, a paper napkin tucked into the collar of its dress. Joel’s able to pawn the hat off on Sarah but not before Tommy got a photo on his disposable camera. 
“That’s going on the fridge,” he chuckles. 
As Joel pays the bill (noting the price of Tommy’s three beers), there’s a rumble of drums. 
“What’s that?” Tommy asks, craning his neck towards the window. 
“The militia’s coming through,” the waitress says, clearing the dish from Sarah’s ice cream sundae (the historical accuracy of which is questionable). “They’ll march in for the fireworks.”
“Fireworks!” Sarah gasps. 
Joel sighs. He’s exhausted, out all day in the cold wrangling his brother and his daughter. His knees are aching and he’s ready to call it a day and go back to the motel. But Sarah is practically bouncing in her seat. 
Joel bundles himself up once again and the trio join the crowd that lines the street. A fife and drum corps in their scarlet uniforms march past followed by an officer on horseback. The sun has long set and the air nips at Joel’s throat. He wishes he had a scarf, could probably pick one up in yet another gift shop but it would surely cost a small fortune. He hopes these fireworks will be over soon so he can put his feet up. 
The little town looks quite festive in the night. Candles glow in every window and the street lamps cast a warm light over the tourists. A massive evergreen on the Palace Green twinkled with modern lights but it only adds to the atmosphere. 
Without warning, the first firework shoots into the sky, its bang makes Tommy jump. It bursts into a shower of silver. The other spectators cheer and more fireworks follow— red and blue, green and gold. 
Sarah’s gloved hand wraps around Joel’s. Her face is turned up to the sky, illuminated by the colorful fireworks. Her eyes round with wonder, sparkling pink and white from the cascade of sparks above. 
She’s having the time of her life. And she deserves it. Sarah’s a good kid. Polite, studious, thoughtful. Joel’s always been proud of her though he has no idea how she turned out so sweet considering he and Tommy have been the ones that raised her. This is what it’s all for, he reminds himself. The hard work and long hours, the never ending stress of bills for things he can’t afford. It’s all for her. 
She turns to find Joel watching her, his heart swollen in his chest. 
“Thanks, Daddy,” she says. She squeezes his hand and pulls her doll close to her chest.  
That thing was worth every penny. 
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Happy holidays to everyone! Special shout out to the tent pitchers and all of my moots but also to anyone that's read my fics this year. Thank you for your support.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago
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The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.
WC: 1.8k
A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!
June 2002
The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.
Especially family vacations.
“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”
Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix. 
“Okay, are we ready to go?”
Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus. 
Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp. 
“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance. 
An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started. 
The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans. 
“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”
“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides. 
You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”
The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand. 
“Yes?”
“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”
Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”
“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”
“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”
Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.
A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.
Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.
“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”
You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.
We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.
You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera. 
“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.
As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland. 
“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.
Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.
Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.
“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.
What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.
Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.
“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.
Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.
Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”
“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”
Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.
“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”
A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—
“It’s Mickey!”
You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself. 
Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt. 
Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”
“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear. 
You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”
But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”
The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side. 
Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture. 
Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button. 
The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.
The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out. 
“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”
You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother. 
Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face. 
Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him. 
Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin. 
You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”
He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all. 
“I’ve never been happier.”
--
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