#We Gonna Party Like It's My Birthday Christmas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 4 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your Spencer x Hotch!sister fics! <3 Can we possibly see the dynamics if it were switched? A Hotch x Spencer's Older Sister fic, pretty please? But no worries if not! Thank you, hope you have a good day!

Was Spencer’s sister always this shy? Hotch can’t remember (and he can’t stop himself from flirting, just a little). fem, 1.4k

“Reid?” Hotch asks.

Spencer grins at his phone.

“Reid.” Hotch clears his throat. “Spencer.”

Spencer puts his phone down on the desk, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Hotch either way. When he realises Hotch is standing by his desk, he perks up. “Hotch, can I ask a favour?”

Hotch had been about to ask Spencer a favour, but it’s fine. “Sure.”

“Uh, my sister is supposed to meet me for lunch in half an hour, but she doesn’t really like restaurants and I’m– me. Do you think she could come to the office?” he asks.

“Sure, Reid. That’s fine, she just needs a visitor card.”

Hotch can’t remember the last time he saw you. Probably when Reid first started tailing Gideon a few years ago, when you’d made the trip from Vegas to Quantico to see how he was settling. It was a brief introduction, and, while you may possess a few more practical graces than your brother, you were far shyer at the time. You didn’t mind shaking Hotch’s hand, but you struggled to maintain eye contact after.

You don’t look much like your brother for reasons he’s never cared to ask, as Hotch has never placed much value on how family comes about. He doubts Spencer does either. But you stay in Vegas with your mother, and Spencer sees you three times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. And today, apparently.

“What’s the occasion?” Hotch asks.

Spencer smiles again. “I think she’s gonna move here, with me.”

“Yeah?” Hotch isn’t the prying boss, but he’s a nosy friend. “Everything okay?”

“Things are great, I mean.” Spencer has the expression of someone deciding what they can and can’t say. Eventually his eyes clear, and Hotch feels satisfied at the realisation that trust has settled tightly between them. “When I decided my mom needed help, Y/N, she hated that, and maybe she resented me, but– I used to worry she hated me, but she doesn’t.”

“I don’t think she could,” Hotch says easily.

Spencer nods. Whether he agrees is up for debate, though. “If t’s finally hit her that mom’s sick forever, so she’s feeling out her options.”

“That must be a hard thing to realise.”

“Yeah. But things really are great, she’s here now, her stuff is coming tomorrow, and– and maybe she’ll stay for a while.”

Hotch likes excitement on Reid (when it doesn’t impede their most important work, that is). Truthfully, there’s so much to worry about that Hotch can’t admit to worrying about Reid as much in recent years, and yet he’s relieved to hear that there will be more Reid’s in a hundred mile radius.

“I’m glad,” Hotch says honestly. “She’s more than welcome here. If she can cope with the photographs in the conference room, the round table is all yours.”

Hotch retreats to his office and forgets about it for a while, submerged in his own lunch and a certain seven year old’s birthday planning. Jack wants a clown, and a cake with Cars, and he really wants a bounce house. Which is great, but Jack decided he wanted the bounce house last night, and his party is at the end of the week. Hotch makes a bunch of phone calls and finally gets to take a victory lap forty five minutes later.

He steps out of his office, enticed by the sound of laughter. Spencer laughs like he’s surprised ninety percent of the time, and yours is no different. It’s clear to the listening ear who taught Spencer how to laugh.

“I love it, I don’t ever want to hear a bad word about it,” you say through peels of it, a breathy, smiley warmth to you as a chair creaks from within the conference room, “and I mean that. Please don’t tell me any facts.”

“I know so many you’d like to hear!”

“I don’t doubt it, but please, as a favour? You can tell me about everything else.”

“Processed cheeses–”

Hotch turns the corner as you put down a sandwich. “Okay, fine. I’m done, are you happy?” you ask, your smile fading into a more polite one as you meet Hotch’s eyes.

“I didn’t get to say anything.”

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Hotch says. He doesn’t interrupt, only says it into the quiet, and he doesn’t bother with fanfare. It’s just to alert Spencer of his presence. “Y/N,” Hotch adds, “hello. It’s good to see you.”

He’s alarmed by your reaction —your eyes widen in your seat, hands hidden beneath your thighs, and your lips part ever so slightly. “Agent Hotchner,” you say softly, almost weakly.

He’s not that intimidating, is he?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says.

“You’re not interrupting, I was just telling her about the dangers of processed cheese. They’re so irregularly salty that the sodium has to be marked as a cause of heart disease on FDA approved packaging for the service industry,” Spencer says.

“I’m sure some every now and then won’t hurt,” Hotch says, attempting to offer you a friendly smile. “Spencer tells me you’re staying here for a while, that’s great. How are you liking the weather? It must be a change from Nevada?”

You look peculiarly hot. “It’s different,” you agree.

Voices ring from the bullpen.

Spencer stands up. You stand with him, but Spencer says, “Sorry, is that Morgan? He said I have to go and get him when you’re here.”

“Spencer–”

Spencer’s already leaving. “He threatened me, actually,” he’s saying, more to himself than either of you as he departs.

You wring your hands.

Hotch worries his brows are giving him away. You’re acting strangely, but maybe he’s too much. He is a special agent, sometimes the other parents at Jack’s school get antsy around him like they’re worried he can tell they haven’t paid their last parking fine. Maybe you’ve a secret crime you’ve committed.

He watches you more closely, to your flustering.

No crime, Hotch thinks, but a secret. Even from Spencer.

“So how’s your day, Agent Hotchner?” you ask softly.

It’s actually quite sweet, the way you say it. Your nerves are cute.

“Busy.” The expected answer. “I’ve been trying to plan a birthday party between paperwork.”

“For Jack?”

He smiles with more gentleness. “Yes, for Jack.”

“He was, um, a newborn, when we last met. Just a couple of weeks old, I think. How old is he turning now?”

“Seven.”

You breathe out. “Wow. Seven years.”

Seven years, and your crush on him remains. That’s what he’d forgotten —when you visited Spencer at the time, even Gideon had mentioned your frazzled, almost dizzy disposition whenever Hotch was around. And Gideon tended to focus narrowly on work at work, so Hotch had known he wasn’t making it up.

At the time it had been cute, but awkward too, and infeasible. He’d been dedicatedly married and in love with his Haley. And if he weren’t, your age gap might’ve been a little non-functioning, Hotch well into his thirties, and you a fresh twenty-five.

Today you’re older, and more beautiful. Something about you has shifted, a blossoming into your features, and Hotch actually has the ability to notice it now.

Your Spencer’s sister, he remembers suddenly. Probably not a woman he should flirt with, some subtle compliment lost on his tongue.

“You look the same,” you say.

He laughs. “That’s kind and untrue. I’m getting old.”

The look you give him then is a shock and a pit, long the long forgotten twist of butterflies. “No,” you say, looking down at your hands, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you say?” he asks.

You’re saved —poor girl, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, you can barely hold your head up— as Morgan bounds up the stairs and into the conference room. He gathers you for a hug as though he knows you better than he does, and Hotch loses sight of your face.

Unknown to him and unseen, Morgan’s greeting is white noise. Why does he talk like that? you think to yourself desperately. He’s asking you all those questions with this weight to them, and he’s so calm! I’m going back to Vegas.

“How long are you staying?” Morgan asks.

You laugh weakly and accidentally catch Hotch’s eye, who smiles at you nicely.

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe.”

Longer, if you have reason.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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astonmartinii · 2 years ago

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astonmartinii’s masterlist

if you would like to support me or send me a coffee, please go here ko-fi.com/astonmartini !!

max verstappen

teacher’s pet

babysitter duty

play date

pen pals

study bug

college

teddy bear

into the arms of another part two part three part four

worlds biggest fan part two

behind the camera

we don’t play about halloween

passion for fashion

bite the hand

charles leclerc

big reputation | part two

home ties

all is fair in love and war

birthday wishes

the student life part one / part two

love languages

motormouth

cat mom

author

big girls do(n’t) cry

tight knit

friendship bracelets

you and me got a whole lotta history

angel baby, devil child

undercover verstappen

nonsense... or is it? | a very nonsense christmas

oscar piastri

rookie love

a spoonful of sugar

cherry lip balm

i am the rockstar, girlfriend

witchy business

peas in a pod

southern charm

kiss it better

nothing good ever happens at the work christmas party

daniel ricciardo

ric number three

cooking up a storm

rockstar

wedding bells

big apple lovin’

ultimate wing man

i don’t wanna be funny anymore

lewis hamilton

raw chemistry

doggy day care

get the bag

top secret

signed up for life

spice up your life

sebastian vettel

racing royalty

family ties

pierre gasly

we never go out of style

final(ly) girl

mick schumacher

summer breaking

opposites attract

lando norris

lonely hearts club

suck up

team bonding

best friends 4 ever

frost bitten

dj got us falling in love

big time rush

loving on a sunday

head in the clouds

reluctant cupid

bad blood (lando's version)

ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs

just add water

george russell

george russell’s the type of guy

first impressions matter

esteban ocon

always the ones you least expect

carlos sainz

journalist

old money

are you going to be my girl?

toto wolff

falling for you

alex albon

nine lives

careful what you wish for

yuki tsunoda

guess who?

logan sargeant

pick of the crop

lance stroll

brother's best friend

mamma mia

no more ace to play

honey, honey

age of no regret

a wonderful thing

a very mamma mia christmas

if you need me, let me know, gonna be around

guilty as sin masterlist

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

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The Birthday Blurb

I think we all just really love Jason Todd and he definitely makes me feel things. Anyway, Happy Birthday, Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth! (Vaugley suggestive, as a treat) ~1.4k words

Jason doesn't care much for his birthday. You're slowly changing his opinion on that. It's not that people haven't celebrated his birthday, it's just no one's celebrated it the way you have.

He wakes up a little later than normal, and frowns when he notices your side of the bed is cold. He clambers out of your shared bed and stumbles to the kitchen.

You're there. Dressed in his shirt. It's a sight to see, probably one of his favorites, he decides when you look over your shoulder and offer him a bright smile.

"Happy birthday, Jason! I made breakfast, did you want coffee?" You ask as he walks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his chin against your skin.

"Breakfast?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep as he presses a kiss to your neck. Breakfast is nice, but the fact that he knows he has a whole day with you is even nicer.

"Mhm," you answer idly, shifting slightly in his gasp to reach for the plates. He beats you to it, keeping you firmly against his body with one arm.

You laugh a little and thank him. Jason determines then and there that it's the best present he's ever gotten.

"C'mon," You tell him, and he lets you pull away so you both can sit and eat. The food is great. At least he thinks it is, he's a little distracted by how pretty you look this morning, every morning, to really taste the food.

He smiles blissfully at your stories, how your voice tilts when you're excited, "So, I was thinking we visit that bookstore you like? And maybe that cafe we had our second date at? Then we can head over to the manor for your party."

He hums fondly and reaches over to brush invisible strings from your shoulder, "It's just dinner. Not really a party."

You grin and lean into his touch, "It's kind of a party. Your family's gonna be there. And your friends. Roy's bringing Lian."

Jason matches your smile, "That'll be nice."

"It will," You say eagerly, and grab his plate to clean up before he can take yours.

He pouts a little, standing up to try and grab the dirty dishes, "I can do that. You cooked."

You laugh a little, teasing and avoiding his hands, "It's your birthday."

"Doesn't make me incompetent, you know," he protests, lazily following you around the kitchen.

"Sure," You agree, turning to meet him and reaching out to brush his hair out his eyes, "But it does mean I want today to be special for you."

His eyes light up, and a sly smile spreads across his face, "Every day is special with you."

You make a face and laugh, "Cheesy. I walked into that."

He laughs with you, grabbing your hand as you lead the way back to the bedroom, "You did. You know I can't help it, not when it's right in front of me."

"Yeah, yeah, you're real funny," You drawl, letting go of his hand to get dressed. He only gets you a little distracted when his hands start to trace your bare sides. But hey, it's his birthday, he figures he can be a bit selfish.

When you both finally make it out of the door of your apartment, Jason doesn't bother to hide the smug look on his face. He tucks you under his arm, admiring the marks on your throat you couldn't quite hide, "You're pretty."

"You're a menace," You answer, but even if you try to sound annoyed, your eyes look nothing but happy and playful, "we're seeing your family later. Alfred's going to be there."

He nods, eyes trailing from you to watch your surroundings as you walk to the bookstore, "Well it's not like they don't already know. Remember during that Christmas party when they walked in on us–"

"Hey!" You cut him off, embarrassment painting your face, "We agreed to never mention that."

He smiles wickedly, "Mm, I don't think I agreed to that. Besides, I thought I could do whatever I want."

"Anything besides talk about the most mortifying moment of my life," You correct and nudge his side as he pulls open the bookstore door for you.

"Fair enough," Jason chirps, content with the look on your face as you wander the shelves.

You both pick out a handful of books, he gets to kiss you, tucked behind a row of bookcases, and he doesn't think he's stopped smiling since you've settled in the chair next to him. The coffee shop is quiet, sweet smelling, and full of memories between the two of you.

He traces patterns over your thigh idly as you sip your drink, "This is where that kid dropped their cupcake all over you."

You smile, "Yeah. Ruined my nice shirt. You gave me your jacket."

He trades your drink for his, and takes a sip. He grins when you try his before trading cups back, "I was freaking out."

You raise an eyebrow at him, "You were freaking out? I was the one that had frosting everywhere."

"Yeah, but you looked sad. You were nice to the kid and said it was fine. But you looked sad and I didn't know how to make it better," he admits.

"You did make it better. You make lots of things better. Besides, it wasn't all bad, I got to wear your jacket. I didn't realize how soft they are," You say fondly, leaning a little into his side.

Jason pulls his hand from your thigh to drape his arm over your shoulder, and presses a kiss to the side of your head, "You make things better too. And I liked seeing you in my jacket."

He melts a little when you smile up at him, "Now we're both being cheesy, Jason."

"Nothin' wrong with that," he murmurs as you laugh, idly reminding him that you need to leave for Wayne Manor soon.

It takes some convincing to get you on his bike, you're worried over Alfreds present, but your helmet is on, and your arms are around his waist soon enough. Having you hold onto him while he drives down Gothams roads is another strong contender for his favorite birthday gift.

The ride ends too soon for him. But he can't complain, he thinks as he helps you off his motorcycle, there's still the ride back. And maybe you won't notice this time if he takes the long way home.

There's more people than he expected, once they're inside, and Jason thinks he masks his surprise well. It's a nice party. He watches you kiss Alfred on the cheek and hand him his present. He plays with Lian and pretends the Tamerianian pistol Kori got him isn't actually super cool and he's definitely not itching to try it out. (Yes, he sneaks you away to the batcave to shoot it. Yes, you end up making out. You dressed up and you look beautiful, sue him.)

He smiles when he blows out his candles and smiles even wider when Alfred blows out his.

You don't mention it when he takes the long way back to the apartment, only trace your thumb back and forth over his stomach. He drives a little faster when you do.

The whole day was perfect. He doesn't know how it was, his birthdays are never perfect. But as he lays down in the bed that you share at the end of the day, he realizes that he feels good. Just, he's content, happy. And it was you, and the people who love him, who made it that way.

He sighs softly, looking forward to cuddling with you and getting some well-deserved sleep. He doesn't have patrol tonight, after all.

"Jason," You call out as you step out of the bathroom. His eyes dart to you and he sits up immediately.

He breathes out your name, takes in every inch of you. You're wearing lingerie, and it's in his color. "It's that– baby," he stumbles over his words, every thought flying from his brain at the sight of lace and ribbons against your skin, "is that for me?"

You smile shyly at him, and he's over the moon, pushing off the bed to get closer to you, "Do you like?"

"I love it, I love you," he says firmly, eyes never leaving you. You giggle, echoing the words, as his heart practically sings in his chest and his hands find your waist. He knows he looks dumbfounded, and any thoughts of going to bed leave his mind.

Who needs to sleep? Not him, not when he has a few more hours of his birthday to enjoy with you. Not when he needs to make it clear, you're the greatest gift he could ever get.

#happy birthday jason todd!!#jason todd #jason todd x reader #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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lottiies · 4 months ago

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TIARAS AND TEACUPS

→ just some fluffy drabbles and headcanons on leon being a girl dad

NOTE: listen i don’t even want kids in the future but for this man?? if he was real and mine then trust i would change my mind real quick ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

this is pretty short, less than 1k words hehe

Leon would never hear the end of it from his coworkers if they saw him like this. There was a plastic tiara with fake pink jewels resting atop his hair. He was sitting criss cross applesauce, for he was a little too big to sit on the tiny chairs his daughter had placed her plushies on.

“Daddy, here’s your cup!” She chimed happily, placing a small toy teacup right in front of him.

“Thank you princess, it’s a pretty set.” His hand could easily cover the entire cup, but to be graceful, he held the handle with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s on the menu?”

“Brownies and…and cookies.” She had a small container of them, having gotten some from the batch you baked the other night. “I’m gonna go get mommy, make sure Mrs. Teddy doesn’t drop her tea!”

Leon looked so out of place, but he was happy, watching with a smile as his daughter ran out of the room to go get you. And surely enough, you joined the tea party a couple minutes later, a matching headpiece on your head and your daughter giggling as she tugged you by the hand and took you to where she wanted you to sit.

You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh when you saw Leon, and he seemed to catch on, grinning at you. “Look who’s late.”

“Fashionably late.” You corrected him as you pointed at your crown, taking a seat on the floor.

“Yay all my guests are here! I’ll hand out the food but don’t eat without me, okay?”

Leon was always emotional when he was in the same room as the two people he treasured the most.

He could still remember when his daughter was just a newborn baby. He almost broke down that day as soon as he heard her first cries, he never thought he’d get the blessing of parenthood.

ii.

If there’s one thing about Leon as a dad, it’s that he really has no backbone when it comes to his adorable daughter. Lecturing wasn’t his strong suit, he just wanted to spoil her. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knack for finding trouble so he didn’t have to worry all that much.

Here Leon was opening the letter he had gotten from his daughter’s elementary school, skimming through it only to see all the positive commentary the homeroom teacher had left. He was a proud father, and he took her on a trip to the store so she could pick out something nice.

“Don’t worry your little head about the price, okay? You deserve something special, you’re doing so well at school.” He gave her head a gentle pat, staying close behind her energetic form as she scanned the aisle for toys.

Toys. Great. Leon was sure he would sob when his little girl started asking for electronics and cosmetics. God, how he wished these years didn’t fly by so quickly. He had to make the most of them.

“Anything? Even a scooter?”

“Uh huh, even a scooter. Want one?”

“Yeah they’re awesome! Can we go look at them? I wanted to ask for one last Christmas but it was really cold so I wouldn’t have even been able to play outside much to use it. But it’s almost summer now so it would be nice and…”

She continued rambling on and on while Leon smiled happily. He held her hand and walked her over to where the scooters and bikes were.

Though he was a little concerned. What if she fell one day and scraped her knee? Or what if she hit her ankle with the scooter? Worst pain ever. Either way, he’d have to buy her a helmet and some knee pads.

Being a dad was kinda stressful.

iii.

Leon would try to be there for major milestones as much as possible. Yeah, sometimes he couldn’t be there because of the spontaneity of his demanding job, but he made sure to make everything worthwhile when he was present.

Whenever her birthday came up, he’d let Sherry babysit her for a few hours so she wouldn’t be at the house while you and him were decorating the place.

“Our little girl is growing up so fast. She’s already wanting to sit in the passenger seat, can you believe that?”

“You big ol’ softie.” You laughed a bit at his sulking, but you felt the same way, going over to hug him and comfort him. He held your hips, nuzzling against the crook of you neck. He loved you so much, he’d know nothing about happiness without you.

“I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would say when I was younger.”

“And what’s that?”

“That when you’re a parent, your children don’t really get older in your eyes. Yeah she’s about to turn ten but…she’s still our baby girl. I feel like she’s still three.”

HEADCANONS

𐙚 Leon would definitely be the type to look up some tutorials on YouTube so he could learn how to do his daughter’s hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, wavy, or really curly. He’ll get all the products and get as much practice as possible

𐙚 For bedtime stories he’d just make up child friendly versions of his missions. B.O.W’s would become dragons, he’d be some sort of knight, and the setting would be a magical forest instead of some isolated and creepy location. And of course there’d be a happily ever after. In a way, this also helps him cope with his experiences

𐙚 Even in a modern world where cards are used more than cash (much to his dismay), he carries around lots of quarters just in case his daughter wants to get something out of a sticker or candy vending machine

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff

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cat9901234 · 8 days ago

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She's got your genes

summary: you and Lewis Hamilton's daughter suddenly took an interest in go-karting whilst your husband was racing and proves she's definitely both you and Lewis' kid.

warnings: nothing but cute fluff.

Named daughter: layla.

When you found out you were pregnant in 2015, you were the least to say terrifyingly worried about telling Lewis with the rise of his wins, the drama, and change of careers plan for the both of you. But nonetheless, the two of you worked through the first rough two years together and Lewis proved to be a wonderful father.

You managed to get your career to settle down in Kensington home when your daughter was five and when the both of you could afford to see Lewis at his races that had always seemed to lift his spirits (and an ongoing suspicion amongst the younger F1 fans that Lewis always performed better when the two of you were around since before your little girl started school and you being more present at his races performed at his best.)

Layla, your beautiful little girl was the perfect mix of the both of you. She had Lewis’ spirit and sass as a youngster and your beauty and compassion Anthony, Lewis’ father would say. Lewis would always try to get as many video calls and flights back to London as possible where the two of them had formed a very close bond, and were always found either cuddled up on the couch as they watched a movie whilst she talked about as much as she could about in the time Lewis was gone or playing outside in the backyard with a soccer ball and Roscoe not too far off.

As much as you tried from keeping Layla’s appearance and face out of the media, whether that be always making sure she’s wearing sunglasses or a hat, there was always either a fan’s shot or a lucky paparazzi at the paddock who managed to a glimpse when she took her sunglasses off to rub her eyes or when they felt uncomfortable. Speaking of the paddock, she was much adored by the drivers; especially Sebastian and George where a viral video went around when she was five of her and George hugging and declaring how he was his best friend.

It was Friday night for the two of you in Kensington, and you were finishing off a meeting call with your colleagues when, just after you logged off, a knock came from your door.

“Hey Lay, did you manage to work out the question?” you queried.

“Yeah, it’s all good,” your eight-year-old nodded. “Hey mum?”

“Yes?” you hummed getting up.

“Can I go-karting? Like a race?”

You stood there a bit shocked at her sudden interest.

“You want to race?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Why the sudden interest sweetie?” you crouch to her level, your tone curious but laced with a familiar warmth that your daughter always sought.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“Really now?” you put your hands on your hips, mirroring her sass. Layla giggles in response.

“Mum!” she exclaims.

“Well can I guess?” Layla thinks about it before nodding her head.

“Is it because you wanna be like daddy?” you pretended to think by putting a finger in your chin.

“No, not really,” she shook her head. She didn’t seem like she was lying.

“Hmm, is it because you want to do it for fun?”

“Sort of,” she grins. An all too familiar grin that was nothing but identical to Lewis.

You sigh loudly. She had go karted when she was a bit younger once or twice for birthday parties.

“Mummy Please! I really need to do this,” she pulls out a very folded and creased flyer of an upcoming open to all go-karting tournament.

“Honey. That’s in like two weeks,” you read the key dates.

“Yeah, but if I practise everyday after school! I promise I’ll still do my homework!” she pouts.

“What about the go-kart? Where are we gonna get that?” you raised a brow.

“What about my old go kart that we used for birthdays?”

“Baby, you haven’t used that since you were four. It’s going to be a bit small.”

“Uhhh… what about the go-kart that uncle George got for me last christmas?” She reasons. You had honestly forgotten about that poor thing left in the garage untouched, better yet it was disassembled.

Damn her mini-Lewis genes.

“Sir Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, what did you say to our daughter?” You glare through the phone.

“Have I ever told you darling you look especially beautiful today?” He sweats.

“What did I say to our daughter darling?”

“Well that’s what I’m asking you Lew. It seems our daughter has taken a sudden interest in go-karting,” you say watching his eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s a race in like two weeks she really wants to compete in,” you hum. “When I asked her why she had your grin written all over her. Something’s up and I’m going to figure it out.”

“When’s the race?”

“[random date]” you sigh. “I already checked, you have a race that same day, and it’s almost a seven hour flight.”

“Fuck,” Lewis dragged his hand down his face. “Fuck, I’m going to miss our daughter’s first race.”

“It’s fine Lew. I’m not sure at the exact times but maybe I can facetime you during one of the races. It goes on all-day.”

“Alright. Maybe send the time and we schedule something from my end.”

“Sent-, Layla what are you doing still up?” your head turns to the direction of her coming down the stairs in her pyjamas.

“I was throwing my tissue box, mummy and my bin is full-, hi daddy!” she exclaims, her eyes widening.

“Hey! Mummy told me you're going to do a go-karting race!”

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning her chin on the edge of the couch. “I told mummy that I’m going to work really hard. We’re going to build the car together-, and I’m going to practise everyday after school after I finish my homework and in the mornings as well.”

“That’s really good to hear sweetie. I’m so proud of you. Mummy and I are going to try to organise for me to video call you guys when I can, okay. It will be just like I’m there.”

“That’s fine daddy, me and you can race when you come back!” she suggested enthusiastically. She knew well of Lewis’ job and what it demanded, and although sometimes it saddened her she got eventually used to it in the best way possible with Lewis making an effort to video call her.

“Of course Lay,” Lewis smiled warmly. “Oh yeah, mummy was telling me that you wouldn’t tell her why you didn’t want to race.”

“Yeah, I’m the one taking you to these practices,” she ruffled her locks.

“Well… it’s because last week, me and my friend and another group were talking about cars. I don’t know why. But like then my friend Katy-, who also does go-karting says that it’s pretty weird and lonely cause she’s the only girl-, so then I said we can race together so she’s not lonely and that it will be fun!”

“Aww, that’s very sweet of you honey,” you kiss her cheek. “But are you sure as well this is something you want to do as well.”

“Yeah! It seems really fun and daddy did it when he was younger and he made lots of friends as well! So I’ll make more friends too!” she yawned.

“Alright sweetie, I think that’s a sign for you to go back to bed. Say goodnight to daddy.”

Layla leans over and sends him a flying kiss and Lewis pretends to catch it making her giggle.

---

When the two of you practised, three sometimes when Lewis would join on a facetime, and four when Anthony would join as well when he heard his granddaughter took an interest in the sport, it was alarming to say the least how well she absorbed techniques and small critiques that Lewis and Anthony would suggest. But beyond that, what you were more thrilled about was how her serious demeanour the moment she hopped off her go-kart would always switch to a wild smile, or when she fell or crashed she would always shake it off and laugh.

When the race day came, you purposefully signed her name up with your last name for extra caution and wanting her to focus on enjoying the day. She had been excited to meet up with her friend and noticed as well how well during each of the rounds how sociable she was with the other racers and converse with them, as she would often come running back to you and Anthony saying how she made a new friend.

In terms of racing. Well, it was safe to say although she had a rough start that you suspected was her nerves, she completely dominated the track as the two of you would cheer loudly no matter what.

Feeling your phone buzz loudly, you picked up and immediately answered the facetime request with a panicked Lewis. “Did I miss the last race? I swear I was trying to get out of that interview but he wouldn’t shut up.”

“It’s fine. She made it to the finals, she’s starting third look,” you turned the screen around to the track where your daughter was sitting in the kart ready.

“Omg! Go baby!” he yelled loudly through the phone.

‘Welcome one and all to the finals of the eight to nine year old division.’ The speaker announced.

Once the quick inspection finished, the moment the race had begun Layla’s car struggled and began to get hit behind the cars behind as they passed her.

“It’s alright baby!” You yelled as she finally got the car working and sped off in last position. The three of you watched anxiously as she began to take advantage of the sharp corners and quickly catched up to the middle of the pack within a few laps.

In the last few laps, Anthony swore he saw Lewis racing as she began to hunt down each person in front of her at a terrifying pace.

“Come on Layla! Go baby!” you yelled as she managed to regain her starting position and then second-,

“And in first place, [your lastname]!”

“THAT’S MY BABY! OH MY GOD!” you heard Lewis yell you began jumping up and down.

Once she was able to come off the track, she immediately ran to the three of you as Anthony hugged her tightly and gave her a high-five. When she turned to the phone her eyes widened at Lewis who had the proudest smile on his face.

“Daddy I won! It was so much fun!”

“Well done Layla!”

“Daddy, why are you crying?” her brows knitted in confusion.

“Those are happy tears honey,” you chuckled, then looked to the marshal who signalled that it was time for the trophies.

“Go get your trophy.”

Bonus:

Lewishamilton

liked by susfiewolff, sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 4000 others

So proud of my baby on her first win. I've never had so much anxiety on watching a go-karting race 😂

redbullracing: dibs -> mercedesamgf1: no you don't. -> mclaren: she's ours.

#f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #dad!lewis hamilton

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #flufffic

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pedge-page · 7 months ago

Text

Candles

Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.

Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?

notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.

Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day.

What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.

What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will.

What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.

It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed.

As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.

Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.

What would it be like … to call you his?

“Dad…Dad!”

“What!”

Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.

Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.

“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.

He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.

It’s his dad.

“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”

Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”

“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”

Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug.

Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”

“Go upstairs and get changed.”

She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior.

Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.

His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”

“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.

“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”

Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”

“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”

“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”

“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“

“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.

“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”

Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”

His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”

“Well you know where the door is.”

His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.

“Joel—“

“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”

If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.

Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.

“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.

He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”

You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.

The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.

And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.

“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.

You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.

“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.

Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”

You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”

You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”

His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”

You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length.

Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.

“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“

“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.

He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.

His soon to be complete family.

His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now.

Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.

“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.

You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.

Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you.

Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.

Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—

You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other.

You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.

The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother.

You curse under your breath.

You’re still going to have to see him today.

He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!

“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside.

Twins. you're having fucking twins.

Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.

…

You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.

But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.

Between your legs.

It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.

You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you.

So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?

Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy.

You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?

A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again?

“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“

“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”

You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.

Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.

Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”

You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.

You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length.

He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink.

Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted.

The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel.

The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.

“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”

You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats.

He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”

You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.

Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.

Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.

“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”

He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.

You’d gotten pretty good at that.

Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close.

You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”

You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you’re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.

His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly.

“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”

His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.

You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.

“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him.

You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.

He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.

You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet.

“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him.

You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.

You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you.

“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”

“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.

“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”

His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties.

He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek.

But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.

He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.

“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“

He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.

That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.

"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”

"I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.

His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:

“Then why you comin’ to me?”

There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp.

"... I just want... more.”

It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.

Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.

You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.

And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.

Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either.

He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.

Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.

You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.

“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”

He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”

You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children.

Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away.

"You said you wanted more.”

It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.

The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching.

Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after.

You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.

There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”

You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all.

But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome.

“Joel. No. Are you insane?”

“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“

“But it’s NOT!”

“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—

It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time.

You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.

“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”

“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”

The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.

He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"

Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”

Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway. “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.

You stare at the door, having not moved from your place.

The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.

You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”

You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy observes your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”

You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.

It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?

You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?

Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.

Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife.

Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.

Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.

Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.

You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.

Series Taglist: @yawnetu @tearfallpixie @morgaussy @whirlwindrider29 @merci-killing @604to647 @robertpattins0nswh0re

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Finale poll: Who are you Rooting for?

Permanent Taglist:

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sl-ut · 11 months ago

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random college!abby hcs

more!college abby

warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, and nudity, cursing, mild hint homophobia

first things first: jerry is alive and abby is his pride and joy

i'm serious... her mom died when she was a toddler and jerry hasn't had a long-term relationship since, so he's the only parental figure that she has

he took every precaution while raising her to make sure she always had everything she could ever need while also making sure that she didn't end up being an entitled brat

otherwise, she is very close with both of her father's siblings (her aunt is the only maternal relationship she has and definitely relied on her for all of her personal issues as a teenager), has a good relationship with jerry's mother and step-father

her mother was an only child, but her parents always come over for thanksgiving and even christmas sometimes

she was very supportive of her father taking in yara and lev after she moved out. she knew he was suffering from a severe case of empty nest syndrome. she def makes them feel so welcome right away like those strangers became her siblings in a matter of minutes

i'll only say it once ppl: OLD MONEY

jk i'll say it again. the andersons are a long line of surgeons and doctors so obvi they're gonna be well off

like, not "fund a research facility to get my kid into college" rich, they're more "i casually have a summer home, a ski chalet, and a ridiculously nice house to live in year round" rich.

her only real relationship was in high school (trigger warning: it was owen)

our bby had a bad case of comphet as a teenager

like fr she had not even considered the fact that she might be gay until she was two knuckles deep in some sorority girl during a party in her freshman year

after that she sort of just accepted it, she had no concern of her dad bc obviously he would be so accepting and supportive, but a few of her relatives def had an issue with it right off the bat (old money, old values)

she's been friends with manny, nora, owen, and mel since middle school, and the only one whose view of her seemed to change was owen (and mel too ig bc she stopped seeing abby as such a threat)

he drunkenly questioned her about it once, saying something super gross and along the lines of "you didn't seem gay when we were together"

to which she responded by offering him two choices; he could sit down and shut up or she would knock him tf out

he's cooled it since then but everyone knows that he still has a big fat crush on her so he still wants to believe he has a chance (even tho he was literally already talking to mel before they broke up and announced they were together only a few days after)

she's pre-med, majoring in bio and minoring in something totally different like classical lit or history or something

she's gonna end up being an orthopedic surgeon but later on in her career i can see her turning to teaching at a university or something

like doctor!abby turned prof!abby???? omg

is very health conscious

she's a gym rat, this we already know

she also takes her diet very seriously as well, but always has a secret stash of junk for when she really needs it

also careful with her alcohol/drug intake

she drinks on occasion (birthday, christmas, new years, etc, etc) but usually not very much (will almost always be sober enough to be the sober driver if need be)

she refuses to do any drugs during lacrosse season. she's so strict with her diet during the season that she won't ingest anything other than quality, nutritious food. she also needs to submit a drug test a few times per season so she doesn't wanna risk it.

in the off season, she's more willing to have a puff or two at a party or take an edible before a movie night or something (i don't see her doing any drug other than weed)

she lived with manny during her freshman and sophomore years

they had a shitty little apartment a few minutes away from campus

it was the only one that manny could afford on a student budget, and he refused abby's offer to get a nicer apartment and let her pay a larger portion of the rent than he did

they still had fun either way

manny loved having another person he could talk about girls with (he was initially gonna move in with owen but then he got ditched for mel)

every sunday morning they would get takeout for breakfast so manny could recount his night with the girl that had snuck out only a few hours earlier

she was a little hesitant to join in and share her own stories, but she finally got more comfortable in talking to him about it (RESPECTFULLY!!!!!!! she was so scared that she was gonna end up sounding like a literally disgusting pig but she keeps the details to a minimum and only says nice things unless the girl was a major bitch)

she's a lululemon/gymshark girly. her go-to style is definitely any variation of athlesiure. she wears lots of joggers, dry-fit tops, and the cleanest pair of white sneakers you'll ever see

underneath, i'm picturing her as more of a bralette type of girl. obviously she wears a sports bra to the gym, but on a regular basis, she likes wearing bralettes over bras bc she doesn't need that much support so they offer just enough without the discomfort of a bra

i'm settling the debate rn everyone, college!abby wears boxers AND panties

she finds boxers more comfortable on a day to day basis, but she likes wearing cheekies and thongs especially when she's wearing leggings

so dorky

she was definitely a sci-fi/fantasy kid

she grew up on harry potter, lord of the rings, star wars, etc etc

would love a partner who would watch them with her and actually enjoy it

unironically makes gym thirst traps on tiktok

her followers always comment supportive things like: looking good!, major gainssss, muscle mommy come destroy this pu-

still wears the iconic braid, but usually only when she's on the field. she occasionally wears her hair down, but i hc that she still likes to wear her hair pulled back in a cute little braided ponytail or a messy low bun

when she's older SHE CUTS HER HAIR OMG OMG OMG like literally i'm purring rn

like ik you've all seen that edit of her with super short hair omg she's so hot

in her junior year she decided to live on her own

manny moved in with jordan, who had been begging him for a while since the rent was more than he could handle on his own, though manny's rent would actually be cheaper than it was in his apartment with abby

they still do their traditions tho, still having sunday breakfast, still going to the campus pub on fridays for trivia, still going to the gym together on wednesdays...

they're actually besties i love them

when she's on her period, she craves salty foods

is so frustratingly confident in her emotions

will always try to diffuse the situation and pissing the other person off with her calmness

takes really good care of her skin

her favourite drink is diet cranberry gingerale

she's a dog person, but she would definitely enjoy having a cat around too

adopts a rescue dog a few weeks after finishing her residency

uses old spice fiji body wash and deodorant (SHE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD) and a musky vanilla body spray

likes to feel and be clean, but isn't too fussed about her body hair so long as it looks tidy. she isn't anti shaving, and will probably make an effort to shave more regularly in the early stages of a relationship until she's more confident and comfortable around the person

NSFW

down-there hair? duh

like i said, she likes to keep things tidy so she'll trim and maybe shave her bikini line if she's feeling it but that's it. she's not fussed with body hair, whether it's her or her partner's

again, she'll make an effort to keep herself looking neat and tidy for the first bit of a relationship but after a few weeks she's not afraid to go full-bush when she doesn't wanna shave

she doesn't love penetration. fingers are one thing, but she has only had not-so-great experiences with sex that involved a penis-like object. she'd wanna be the one wearing the strap for the most part, but she'd be willing to try it again with the right person

slow and passionate sex >>>>>

considers herself to be very vanilla but she's actually kinda kinkyyyyy (she gets so embarrassed and blushy when anyone calls her out for it)

she prefers scissoring to using her strap (but she LOVES her strap)

she doesn't like to choke her partners, but she will reach her hand up and just hold their throat while they're fucking

she's always so sensitive

came in like thirty seconds during her first time with another girl

she's noiiiiisssyyyyyyyy

she usually starts out with just heavy panting breaths, then they turn into deep grunts, then she begins to whine from low in her throat, and finally she begins to gasp out words of praise or curses

she squirts teehee

like i said she's always so sensitive, so if she's any ways worked up when someone's going down on her they better watch out bc they're in the splash zone

her strap is purple and sparkly

abby anderson eats ass

her nipples are super sensitive too

not really nsfw but she really loves casual nudity with her partners, changing in front of each other, hopping in the shower together, using the bathroom with the other person in the room...

she's a boob girl. doesn't matter if they're big, small, saggy, or perky, she just wants to suck them

when she's on top, she likes to pull her partner's leg over her shoulder and will just start like trailing kisses along the length of their calf

she's a literal munch

will use it to her advantage too

tells her partner she'll go down on them if they finish their assignments

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby tlou #college!abby anderson

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12daysofchristmas · 11 days ago

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Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction.

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated!

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count: Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️“Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

#12daysofchristmas2024 #christmas writing challenge #christmas writing prompts #writing #challenge #christmas #christmas fanfiction #holiday fanfiction

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wheels-of-despair · 4 months ago

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The Legend of Lobster-Dick Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: It's Gareth's birthday! Evil Woman and Eddie present him with a cake he'll never forget. In front of all his friends. Oh no. Contains: An evil plan, an epic cake, questionable sibling humor, embarrassing the hell out of Gareth but it's ok 'cause we love him. Words: 1.2k

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathes, giving you a nudge.

"What?" you ask, not looking up from the paperbacks you're almost done sifting through.

"Look!" he whispers, with a sense of urgency.

You finally tear your attention away from the box of books at the massive church rummage sale you've dragged him to at "seven in the damn morning" and follow his eyeline to an object on a nearby table.

It's a shiny, copper-colored pan… shaped like a dick and balls.

Your eyes widen. At a church sale?!? You look from the pan to Eddie, who's practically vibrating. He looks like a kid waiting for permission to start ripping into presents on Christmas morning.

You abandon the books and creep toward the pan for a better look. Eddie stays rooted in place. Perhaps he'll explode with glee if he gets close enough to touch it.

You want so badly to pick it up, but these little old ladies are already judgy as hell. You don't want to push your luck. What if they don't know what it is? And you have to explain it to them?

"Oh, you found my lobster!"

You look up and make eye contact with a lady in a long white braid on the other side of the table.

"Excuse me?" you say cautiously.

"My lobster! He was so cute, I just couldn't resist when I saw him in the magazine. My husband didn't care for the spread, though. Darn, I should've thrown in the recipe card."

A lobster. It's shaped like a lobster.

"Well, he is awfully cute. I'm sorry you had to part with him." You try to conceal your smile.

"He was just taking up room," she explains. "My granddaughter gave me a mold shaped like a fishie for my birthday! That one's better for tuna, my husband prefers that to the lobster."

You nod in understanding, wondering if the granddaughter had seen the same thing you had in the unfortunately shaped lobster mold.

"He's only fifty cents to a good home," she says hopefully.

"I'll take him," you say without hesitation. "I bet this will make the cutest little appetizer at my brother's birthday party next week!"

Her face lights up. You dig two quarters out of your pocket and pass them across the table to her.

"Thank you!" she exclaims happily. "You have a nice day, dear!"

"You too, ma'am," you say politely, picking up the glorious copper pan. "I promise I'll take good care of him."

She smiles, and you turn around and shoot Eddie a devious look.

"Sweetheart, would you hold my lobster for me while I pay for my books?" you ask sweetly. His eyes widen. He blushes when you hand him your new treasure, and he has no choice but to stand there and hold the shiny pan while you gather your stack of paperbacks and show them to the lobster lady. You hand over a few more coins and wish her a good day again, then start walking to the van.

Eddie scampers along behind you, hugging the pan to his chest.

When you get in the van, he holds it out in front of him. The sun catches it through the windshield, and it shines like The Holy Grail.

"What are we gonna do with our glorious Lobster-Dick?" he asks.

"Didn't you hear the plan? He's going to make his debut at Gareth's birthday party. Should we actually find a lobster mold recipe, or just use Jell-O?"

"God, you're evil," Eddie says proudly, handing you the pan and sticking his key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you grin.

In the end, you decided that lobster was too expensive and Jell-O wasn't funny enough.

So you used the Lobster-Dick pan to make a cake.

Your darling brother, who was getting along in his teenage years, insisted that he was too old for a birthday party. All he wanted to do was to hang out in the basement with his friends. Who were also your friends. Which was fine with both you and your mother.

But you drew the line at "no birthday cake."

You made it at Eddie's house and hid it in the van until time for its debut.

The video games had been played, the pizza had been eaten, and the boys of Corroded Coffin were stretched out lazily over every cushioned surface in your basement while some dumb horror movie played on the VCR.

That's when you made your move.

"I'm gonna take these pizza boxes out before that greasy smell becomes permanent. Eddie, wanna help?"

"Fine," he groans, but his eyes sparkle. He knows exactly what you're doing. You gather the trash from the well-stocked table of junk food and head out through the basement door, ditching the pizza boxes at the garbage can.

When you get to the van, Eddie opens the back doors and uncovers the cake with a flourish. The vanilla frosting has melted a little, due to today's temperature, but you didn't really have much of a choice. If the cake had gone in the fridge, it probably would've been discovered by one of the boys already... or worse, your mother.

Eddie sticks a few candles in the scrotal area of the cake for good measure. Like rainbow-colored hairs… that you're going to light on fire in a few minutes. You reach for the camera, conveniently located next to the cake, and snap a photo. You hand it off to Eddie, pick up the cake, and carefully make your way back to the basement.

"You're the devil," he whispers just outside the door, as he digs in his pocket for a lighter.

"You're the one who suggested the strawberry cake mix," you remind him. He chuckles and quickly lights the candles.

"Ready?" he asks. You nod.

Eddie opens the door for you, and you step inside with the greatest birthday cake in the history of birthdays… or cake.

"Happy Birthday to you…" you begin. None of the boys are singing along. "You don't get cake if you don't sing, brats. From the top!"

The boys reluctantly join in. Gareth's face is in flames, and his eyes are shooting daggers at you from the couch. The camera flashes from behind you. Good job, Eddie.

When the song finishes, you place the flaming Lobster-Dick cake down on the coffee table where everyone can see it properly.

Jeff and Grant cackle.

Gareth looks murderous.

"Make a wish, baby brother," you tease.

"I wish I was an only child," he glares.

"No, you don't," you grin. "Shut up and blow out your balls."

The rest of the boys howl with laughter, and you wonder for a minute if Gareth is going to pick up his cake and throw it at you.

But finally, he leans over and blows, and the candles go out.

"Congrats on your first birthday blow job," Eddie says proudly, taking one last picture and handing you the camera. "Knew you had it in you, little buddy."

"You assholes deserve each other," Gareth grumbles.

"Thank you!" you and Eddie say together, grinning at each other and leaning closer for a victory kiss.

"I hate you all."

"You love us," you correct the birthday boy.

"Alright, step aside please, give the doctor some room," Eddie says seriously, grabbing a knife from the snack table and advancing on the cake. "This will only hurt a little."

The boys all wince and look away while Eddie cuts the Lobster-Dick shaped cake. You snap a photo.

"Why's it fucking pink?!"

Gareth's shriek sends you all back into hysterics.

It's real! It's a real thing! Lobster-Dick exists! 😂

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman #gareth stranger things

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