#gonna get beat up by a 10 year old
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litl-rat-dude · 2 years ago
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Somehow chapter 3 feels like not enough happened while also having a lot happen :Ic
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lyriumrain · 1 year ago
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Was supposed to have a zoom call with a psych today at 11, went to click on the call link at 10:50, only to find they sent a "failure to attend" email at 10:49 🤔
There was nothing in the emails about having to be logged in a certain time, the only instruction I was given was to NOT join the call *too early*. Well apparently being 10 minutes early is too late.
Fuck these people.
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dragonfly0808 · 2 years ago
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So my Batfamily brain rot is back (not that it ever really left) and I just had a thought like…
If you’re a henchman/criminal in Gotham, seeing your life flash past your eyes is gonna be a somewhat regular occurance but… what if like… the thing that truly made a henchman’s heart fall to his ass was when they hit Robin just a little too hard and this 10 year old kid just starts crying and goes ‘Daaaaaadddd!’
That’s the moment when they truly think they’re going to die because said dad, the kid is calling for is a 6’6 demon from hell who’s all muscle and shadows and vengance and a lot of Gotham still thinks he’s a cryptid
The henchmen all drop their guns and try to calm the kid down but it’s over in 5 seconds flat. Batman breaks several bones before speaking to Robin in the softest voice they’ve ever heard him use and the criminal world, who was already a bit hesitant to fight a kid have even more reason to take it just a little easy on Robin.
And like, I can picture different reactions with every Robin.
Like, for Dick, he’s ten and we all know he was the most violent Robin second only to Damian so maybe when he’s ten or eleven and has calmed down a little, a henchback who still remembers what a little shit he used to be decides to get back at Robin, slips on a pair of brass knuckles and BAM
And then, little Dick just stares for a moment in shock, cheek already starting to bruise, the criminals he’d been fighting all stay still because it was a nasty punch and then…
“Daaaaad!!!” He cries out in a whiny voice that reminds them that Robin really is just a kid and it all clicks into place.
Even Bruce wasn’t expecting that, Dick has just started calling him dad and he still isn’t used to being called that so to hear his kid calling for him in the moment where he is startled and hurt and a little scared… the henchmen don’t even have time to react and they wake up in the hospital with concussions and maybe a few broken bones.
It doesn’t take Dick long to calm down, it was mostly that the hit from a random henchmen really startled him and got him right in the cheekbone. But Bruce still finishes patrol early and Dick still hides under Bruce’s cape all the way to the Batmobile.
Then comes Jason and Jason was such a sweet kid, I headcannon he was the one that called Bruce dad the most often while being Robin. So one night during patrol maybe he finds himself fighting Penguin or Two-Face and it’s been a long night and he has an exam the following day and Bruce is fighting another villain at the other side of the warehouse
The point is, the henchmen and Two-Face start landing hits on eleven year old Jason in his gut and at some point he loses sight of Batman fighting on the other side of the room. Jason gets scared because he’s never really fought without Batman and while he knows that Bruce is still in the warehouse, he can’t see him and the handle of a gun hits the back of his ankle and he falls and he sees Two-Face or Penguin or one of the henchmen getting ready to grab the front of his uniform and beat him up and…
“Daaaaddd!”
The criminals freeze for a moment. They’ve heard the stories of what happened the last time a Robin called scared for dad.
They’re fucked.
They all drop their guns and try to get Jason to calm down, but he’s crying just a little bit and calls again, his voice breaking and despite having been at the other side of the warehouse just a second ago, Bruce somehow drops from the ceiling and it’s over before the criminals can keep pleading with Robin to calm down.
Jason tries to apologize for ‘acting like a baby’ but Bruce is having none of it and carries him back to the Batmobile and Jason is happy to just hide his face in Bruce’s cape because he knows his dad will always be there to save him.
Then comes Tim.
And Tim gets found out while doing reconnisance and somehow he finds himself face to face with Bane who manages to wrench away his bo staff and Tim is just eleven and he is scared because Bane doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back
All Tim knows is that the crack he hears must surely be his ribs either cracking or breaking and he can’t breath and he can only muster enough air for a single word… and he calls for his dad through tears and fear
And at this point… at this point Batman has already lost a Robin, Tim may not be his legally but he is his son just as much as Jason was
Bane spends a month in the ICU
Tim is embarrased that he reacted like that. He thinks it makes him less of a Robin to called scared for Batman… for dad.
So Bruce tells him of the other two times it happened. It’s one of the first times he’s spoken about Jason to Tim so bluntly.
Then comes Stephanie.
Stephanie never calls Bruce dad when she’s Robin. She’s not his daughter and he’s not her dad. They’re not sure what exactly they are to one another.
As far as Bruce knows, Stephanie’s version of Robin never called out to him when she was scared.
What he doesn’t know is that it did happen. Just once
It was the last time she was Robin. When Black Mask had her and she thought she was going to die
At some point while bleeding and feeling nauseous and so scared she could barely hear anything that wasn’t her own heart beating wildly against her chest… she called for dad. Not for Arthur Brown, but for Bruce
Black Mask laughed at her
Stephanie never tells Bruce
And finally… Damian
Now, we know Damian would probably never be startled enough to call for Bruce out of instinct, so I can see 2 scenarios in which this could happen.
First, he sees another kid do it. He sees a kid close to his own age laughing and playing, then tripping and staying quiet for a split second before crying out for mom and dad and he just… assumes that’s something kids do when scared and hurt and startled and does it mostly in an attempt to be a little more ‘normal’
Or, my favorite scenario… he hears of the other times it has happened. He overhears maybe Dick remind Jason of what Bruce did when Jason called out to dad as Robin. Tim maybe jokes that a Robin calling for dad is still the villains’ greatest fear
So Damian stores that knowledge away as a battle strategy just in case he ever needs it… and maybe a small part of him wants to put it to the test, to see if his father would protect him as brutally as he’s protected the Robins before him
So some random night during patrol, he’s up against several henchmen, a few of them grab him from behind, trying to hold him down. Damian is fighting against them when one of them swings a cylinder of metal that Damian thinks might’ve been meant for the plumbing and…
The henchman breaks Damian’s nose, there’s blood dripping down his chin and staining his uniform
Now… it is most certainly not the first time he’s broken something, he’s more than used to the pain, in fact, he barely feels it. However, it gives him a chance to put his little theory to the test
And so Damian allows himself to sound like the ten year old that he is and in a whiny, teary voice, goes… “Babaaaaa!” (Bonus points if it’s the first or second time he’s called Bruce baba instead of father)
What Damian didn’t take into account though, is that Batman and Robin aren’t the only ones on patrol that night. They made a big bust. The biggest part of the operation was over but they were still fighting a few stragglers. The whole fucking family is here.
And they all hear his cry.
Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen a fight end so quickly. The henchmen only have a split-second of surprise before vanishing, being tackled or shot or having knives buried on their shoulders by his siblings.
The one that actually broke Damian’s nose is being beaten up by Nightwing, Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grayson so angry.
A shadow kneels in front of him, father. Baba. He’s checking Damian and Todd is right at his side, both speaking in hushed tones, checking his injuries and wiping the tears that usually came with a broken nose.
And now… Damian is used to his father and Grayson treating him like a child, trying to be as soft as they can with him. Even Cain does it to some extent.
But… having Drake wrap an arm around him, calling him baby when knocking out one of the criminals that had hurt him ‘that’s my fucking baby brother!’ and continue to hold him later into the night on the couch, having Brown willingly give up all the snacks she keeps in her utility belt and promise to take him to Batburger the following day for milkshakes because he was ‘a champ’. And Thomas wraps his favorite blanket around Damian while they’re fixing him up.
Todd decides to stay the night at the manor. Which he never does. They all decide to spend the night at the manor when Damian still sniffles on the Batmobile and they have breakfast all of them together. Which Damian isn’t sure has ever happened before and Cain gets Alfred to make pancakes with chocolate chips instead of blueberries.
They call him baby in hushed whispers but for once, it doesn’t bother him even though it really should
But most of all, Bruce refuses to let him go for a good five minutes after he first cries for him. Smoothing down his hair and whispering that it’ll be okay and just being soft in a way Damian has never seen before.
He sleeps between his Baba and Grayson and he knows that Todd and Drake and Cain check in on them at least twice in the night for some reason.
And he realizes it’s… it’s nice. Maybe this really could be an effective battle strategy to be employed again someday.
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hgfictionwriter · 1 month ago
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Self Control: Part Fifteen - Wedding (Epilogue)
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Raising a kid certainly derailed your and Jessie's wedding timeline, but after many months, the big day is finally here.
Warnings: G!P content. Oral (J receiving). Fingering. G!P penetrative sex. Possessive language. Preg/breeding kinks. Language.
A/N: Well, everyone, the closing chapter is finally here. To everyone still with me on this journey or those who are new - thank you! I hope you enjoy. Full series is here.
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"How are you holding up? I hope you're having a fun night."
Jessie read your message and quietly removed herself from a group conversation to take up a seat on a nearby couch.
"Honestly? A bit overwhelmed lol. Missing you and Riley."
"Yeah, who decided to follow through with these weird traditions of us not spending the night together lol."
"Seriously haha. We can blame my friends for that. But hey - at least we spent the day together, we just aren't allowed to spend the night lol."
"Well...Riley's probably fast asleep with your parents. But, if you want a break from the unrelenting celebrations, there's nothing stopping us from running into each other on a midnight walk."
"I love that idea. Let's do it. Meet over by the dining cabin on the far end of the complex? There shouldn't be anyone over there at this hour. I need probably 10 min."
"Done. See you soon, love."
Jessie realized she was smiling as she put away her phone. She cleared her throat and ran her palms against her thighs as she began to formulate her exit.
Her neutral expression was short lived as her eyes fell upon the three newly inked lines across the wrist of her right hand, more or less a mirror of the ones she'd gotten years prior on her other wrist. These lines though - one for each member of her new family; you, herself and Riley.
"Smiling to yourself the night before your wedding - that's gotta beat sweating bullets and having an existential crisis."
Jessie arched an eyebrow at Janine as she stood.
"Yeah, none of that here," she chuckled as she started to make her way towards the cabin door. "My parents texted. I forgot a bag of Riley's stuff in the car. I'm just gonna go grab that and drop it off at their cabin."
"Oh, I can do that. Stay - this is your night. You can't leave - you're the star of the show."
"Now that has me sweating bullets," Jessie replied dryly with a teasing eyeroll as she grabbed her keys and continued walking. "I'll be back in a bit."
She ignored Janine's persisting rebuttals with a charming smile and a wave as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh mountain air as she looked up at a dark sky lit up by twinkling stars and a crescent moon.
She shoved her hands in her pockets and began the trek over to the other side of the complex you and her had rented out for your wedding.
Though both of you would've loved to have little to no fanfare or audience, it really just wasn't feasible no matter how much you tried to trim the invite list. Jessie would've loved simply eloping - going away for a weekend alone and coming back married, but that would've gotten her killed by a multitude of friends and family.
As a compromise though, you wanted to have the wedding be as 'you' as possible, meaning you both found this nice, rustic mountain resort with cabins, hiking trails, a beautiful creek and more as opposed to having it at some fancy venue in the city.
The wedding took a while to get off the ground. What with a baby in the picture and a new club season and international window to work around, all of the effort required to pull a wedding together just fell by the wayside. By the time this day came around, your baby went from a newborn to an 18-month old toddler in the blink of an eye.
The cabin Jessie went to meet you at was dark when she arrived, as expected. It was locked at this hour, but this cabin was far enough away from where all the guests and staff stayed that she wasn't entirely worried about privacy. She went around to the back and leaned against the wall as she waited for you.
She patiently looked up at the constellations until she heard faint footsteps in the distance. A smile crept across her face and evolved into a full blown grin as you rounded the corner, tentatively peeking around.
You put on a mock expression of surprise, a hand to your chest as you approached.
"Oh my gosh. What in the world? I can't believe that you're out here too."
Jessie laughed and mimicked your expression. "No way! So crazy." She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well, what can you do?" She pulled you into her arms and gave you a kiss. She smiled further as your arms came up around the back of her neck and you leaned fully in.
You rest your forehead against hers and exhaled quietly as the kiss ended. "This is so silly, but I feel like I haven't kissed you at all today. I know we did during all those games and such, but, you know what I mean."
"A real kiss," Jessie answered, knowing exactly what you meant. Doing all of these couples games and people hooting and hollering for you and her to kiss was a bit of a nightmare to begin with, but it also certainly wasn't an intimate, real kiss.
"See? You get me," you said as you gave an exaggerated, contented sigh. "I guess that's why I'm marrying you."
She chuckled and captured your lips in another kiss.
"Yeah, you're pretty much stuck with me," she said. "Pretty hard for you to back out now."
You shot her a withering look and rolled your eyes to which Jessie just grinned.
"Yeah, I'm really dying to get out of this relationship. It's the worst," you deadpanned.
"I knew it," Jessie played along and you rolled your eyes once more, this time pulling back and placing your hands on your hips.
"Well, I mean, I hardly know you," you said slowly, eyeing her up and down before reaching out and letting a finger trail down her chest. "I thought you were such a good girl, but here you are sneaking out at night and breaking the rules." Your eyes met hers and she smirked at the glint she saw in them.
"I can be bad for you," Jessie said rather smugly as she wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close again.
"Well," you smirked as you drew teasing circles along her shoulder, "let's keep that between you and me. I'd hate for you to have an early midlife crisis and go through a belated Bad Girl phase. Fucking around and all."
She gave you a look. "You really don't get how much I adore you? Us having a baby together and getting married really hasn't convinced you yet?"
You toyed with her shirt idly, the look in your eyes shifting slightly. "People get married and have kids all the time. It's not a guarantee of anything. Feelings change. Wants change."
Jessie let out a slight laugh, but narrowed her eyes nonetheless. "Well are your feelings or wants going to change?"
"No," you replied simply and easily, holding her gaze.
"Then why would mine?" She challenged lightly, causing your eyes to drift downward towards the ground. Jessie thumbed your cheek gently and pushed your hair behind your ear. "You really don't get it. There's absolutely no one else for me. It's you. Every moment. Every day. There's no competition. I love you so incredibly much. And just when I think I can't love you more, you do or say something that makes me fall even more for you."
Even in the dim light of the moon, Jessie could see the faintest signs of blush on your cheeks.
"Whoa," you joked shyly, eyes still on the ground before lifting them to meet hers. "Save something for the vows."
"I need you to know how much I love you," Jessie said earnestly. She watched you intently and you eventually sighed.
"I know...I just love you so much. I think the world of you and I don't ever want to lose you. I honestly don't know what I'd do."
"You're not going to lose me," she assured you. "It's been years and my friends still make fun of me for how obsessed I am with you. Never mind how whipped," she finished with a smirk, but held your gaze unwaveringly. "You're the one. You're my everything. You're my best friend. The love of my life. The mother of my child. And tomorrow?" She spoke intently, eyes looking down at your lips as she caressed your cheek once more. "You'll be my wife."
The kiss started off slow - just two people in love. Jessie wanted to somehow express how deeply she felt for you and reassure you that she'd always be here.
It wasn't long until the kiss began to grow hungrier, Jessie finding herself slowly being pushed back against the wall of the cabin, both your hands and hers beginning to wander. The sounds of your heavy kisses filling the night air.
"God, I wish we were staying together tonight," Jessie mumbled into the kiss as she felt her pants beginning to grow taut against her. She moaned deep in her throat as your hand came to cup her growing length.
"Maybe we should just go to the honeymoon cabin," you suggested as you two continued to kiss. You dipped your head and began to kiss down her neck. She groaned once more and her eyes fell shut as she attempted to think.
"W-we don't have the keys," she eventually managed. You made a noise of complaint, but continued to caress her restrained cock.
"Well...," you said slowly as you began to undo Jessie's pants. "It's just us out here."
"Babe," Jessie said, half in warning, half in astonishment as you began to kiss your way down her shirt and soon dropped to your knees in the dirt and fully undid her pants.
"What?" You asked teasingly as you looked up at her. "You don't like me on my knees for you?"
A low rumble emanated from her chest as she let her head fall back against the wooden slats of the cabin wall, a blissful grin on her lips as her hand began to run through your hair.
"Jesus Christ," Jessie mumbled, though certainly not in complaint. She looked down at you again with a crooked smile. "You're talking about me being a bad girl - it's your fault. You're the bad influence." She recalled the events of the past couple of years. "Getting me hard in the back of my friend's car and feeling me up, being so fucking sexy that I just have to jack myself off while on the phone with you and getting freakin' caught. Fucking in my parents' basement and in my childhood bedroom while my mom is on the other side of the door. Got me storing a collection of dirty photos of you in the back of the nightstand. Never mind what's in my phone. And now you're about to give me head while we're outside where anyone could see."
Jessie groaned again as you reached into her boxers and released her stiff cock, your fingers trailing teasingly along its length.
"Well. When you put it that way...," you said with a smirk. "But looking at how hard you are right now and the way your cock is already leaking cum for me, I'd say you like it."
She gripped your hair tightly before releasing it and running her fingers through your locks once more. She closed her eyes and nodded her affirmation. "Yeah. You can confidently say I like it."
"Well good," you accepted with a light chuckle as you rubbed her precum across the tip of her cock and teased her a bit more. She moaned low in her chest again and subtly began to thrust into your hand. You smiled. "Hey Jess?"
"Mm?" She asked, forcing herself to open her eyes once more and look down at you. God, you really did look incredible kneeling in front of her with her stiff cock in your hand. You gave her a teasing smile.
"I love you," you said as you took her into your mouth.
"Oh fuck," Jessie said in a low voice as your warm mouth wrapped around her and your tongue teased her tip. You moaned around her cock and she clutched your hair tightly in her hand once more. "Jesus."
She let her head fall back against the cabin and she leaned back, grateful for the structure behind her because of how weak in the knees she felt already. Her breathing deepened as you took her deeper and continued to pump her up and down with your fist.
Her jaw was slack as she finally opened her eyes. What a moment - your head slowly bobbing up and down on her length, looking absolutely gorgeous on this starry night, out in the wilderness on the eve of your wedding. In all of her wildest dreams, she could've never thought this up.
It didn't take long for Jessie to feel that tightening sensation between her legs and it took so much control for her to keep her thrusts gentle, her tip nudging the back of your throat and not pushing deeper.
"I'm gonna cum," she warned you. You moaned, nearly setting her off with the vibration of it, and began to take her deeper into your throat.
Jessie held back a loud moan, a muffled grunt escaping her throat instead as she released herself down your throat, her palm flat against the back of your head as she bit her lips and emptied herself.
You eventually pulled back with a slight cough, your eyes starting to water as you swallowed her load.
"Shit, I'm sorry," she breathed as she looked down at you and leaned down to help you to your feet.
"Don't be sorry," you said with a choked laugh. "It's hot."
She tucked herself back into her boxers and did up her pants. You leaned against her, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace as you both settled. She played with your hair and kissed the side of your face as she came down from her climax.
She felt you sigh in her arms. "I wish we could just go to bed together tonight," you repeated her earlier wish.
"I know," she sighed against you as she ran her fingers up and down the back of your neck. You shivered against her.
"Cool it," you said as you shrugged her hand away. "I'm already worked up."
"Yeah?" Jessie asked, peeking one eye open and looking over at you, a devilish smile beginning to form. Her hand drifted down your body until she reached the top of your pants. You didn't protest as she began to unbutton them, instead only moaning and gently rolling your hips against her.
Any drowsiness she felt in the haze of her orgasm quickly dissipated and she flipped you both so you had your back against the wall of the cabin. She dipped her head down and began gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. You gasped softly, fingers digging into her crown as she did so and it drove her crazy.
Despite her recent climax, she felt herself growing hard once again as you quietly mewled in her ear and rolled your hips against hers. She felt a rush of arousal come over her, her body tensing up as she resisted the urge to truly pin you against the wall and have her way with you. She subconsciously sucked harder on your neck.
"Jess!" You hissed, bringing her back to the moment. She blinked, pulling away in confusion as you slapped a hand to your neck and stared wide-eyed at her. "The night before our wedding?! Really?"
Jessie stared at you a moment longer until you lifted your hand away, revealing the initial signs of a hickey. She cowered slightly, heat rushing to her face but she couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped either. She stared at it and eventually gave a half-hearted shrug.
"You're going to be wearing makeup," she offered before laughing once more. Her smile turned into a grin. "Besides, everyone already knows you're mine anyway."
Your eyes flashed and you leaned forward, latching onto her neck and sucking hard. You pulled back a moment later with a very satisfied look on your face as Jessie was now the one to cover her neck with a palm.
"What the fuck!" She hissed in return. "I'm not wearing makeup tomorrow. How am I supposed to cover it up?" She gave a disgruntled noise of complaint and you simply shrugged haughtily.
"They can photoshop it out. And now everyone will know you're mine as well."
"Oh my God," Jessie said, her mild irritation waning and quickly shifting to affection. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. Her cock pulsed at the wicked grin you gave her as you held her gaze. "I gave you my baby. I gave you my ring. And now my name, too. I don't think anyone would've doubted I'm yours."
You looked upward in mock contemplation before smirking at her. "You can't blame me for wanting to stake my claim on you," you said as you rolled your hips against her once more causing her eyes to drift shut as an all too fleeting wave of pleasure rushed through her.
Despite Jessie pinning your hands above you and seemingly being in control, it fooled neither of you - you were very much in control. No surprise. And she didn't mind at all.
She released one of your hands and reached down to cup your heat through your underwear. She let out a low moan of approval at the dampness and radiating heat she was met with there. She pushed your panties aside and ran two fingers through your slick folds. A grin crossed her face as your knees buckled and you melted into her embrace, clutching her closely and gasping in her ear.
"God, you are so wet for me, baby," she said as she relished the feeling of your wet folds, clit and sopping entrance. Her cock strained painfully against her boxers and pants as she slipped two digits inside of your entrance. You gasped further and let yourself fall into her waiting hand.
"Fuck," you whispered as you gripped her curled fingers. She withdrew them slightly and pushed inside once more, the sounds of fingers moving through your arousal filled the otherwise quiet night air and Jessie's jaw dropped in amazement.
"Holy fuck. You are soaking and you sound so fucking good. Oh my God." She ground out the last part and couldn't help but grind herself against your thigh.
"Jesus Christ, Jess," you panted already as you rocked into her hand. "I want you to fuck me."
"Babe," she said as she buried her face into your neck, rolling her head against you in want as she felt your core accommodating the girth of her fingers. She could feel the ridges and curves of your walls as they fluttered and flexed around her and her cock twitched as she continued to slowly grind herself against you for some semblance of relief.
"God, Jess. I know you want me too," you said as you shook off her hand and reached down to cup her once more, massaging her firmly through the taut fabric.
"I didn't bring a condom with me," she said as she slowly thrust against your palm. "They're back at my cabin."
You exhaled heavily though you didn't stop the gyration of your hips or the movement of your hand. You ran your other hand through her hair.
"Sorry I didn't think to bring one - I didn't exactly anticipate this," she said.
"Well, stop being so sweet and romantic - meeting up in the middle of the night out in the moonlight and telling me how much you love me. If you stop doing that and stop being so attractive then maybe I'll stop spreading my legs for you."
Jessie let out another low moan and her grip tightened on you. Soft noises of want and need came from you both for several moments until you finally spoke.
"Riley's 18 months old now," you started. "The doctor said we're in the clear to start trying again if we wanted to."
A low growl rumbled up Jessie's through as she pushed her fingers deeper inside of you and ground her hips against you harder. You let out a breathy chuckle.
"I know you've been dying to fuck me without a condom again," you teased.
"Oh my God," Jessie muttered as she began to hump you a touch faster. "Don't tempt me. I'm not fucking kidding."
"Who says I'm kidding?" You said breathlessly as you dug your fingers into her crown once more.
"I'm serious," she said through nearly grit teeth as her free hand dug into the small of your back and pulled you tightly against her. "If you tell me we're trying again, you're leaving here with baby #2 inside of you." She forced herself to take a deep breath. "If you aren't ready, it's fine. I can sneak back to the cabin and get a condom."
"And what if I don't want you to?"
Jessie moaned, legitimately worried she was going to bust in her pants. "Then I'm fucking a baby into you tonight."
You didn't say anything. Instead, you shifted, Jessie pulling back to look at you only to see you shimmying your pants and underwear down your legs. You nodded to her and she immediately began undoing her pants once more.
Your pants and underwear fell into a heap on the ground, Jessie's barely dropping down around her ankles before you wrapped your leg around her waist and grabbed her bare cock, positioning it at your entrance.
Jessie didn't hesitate in sinking inside of you, sliding in to the hilt right off the bat. A wanton moan escaped you, probably louder than either of you intended or wanted, but you were both so far gone that it went unnoticed and Jessie began thrusting in and out of you with a level of urgency and desperation that might've embarrassed her in the past, but the way you gasped and clawed at her it only egged her on.
"I love you so much," she panted into your ear as her wet strokes filled her ears.
"I love you too," you whimpered in return as you bounced on her cock, your shirt the only thing keeping your back from getting scratched up from the cabin walls.
"Jesus Christ, I'm going to cum already," Jessie said a short while later. She panted, forcing herself to refocus for a moment to look you in the eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Cum inside me. I want you," you told her.
She needed no further encouragement and a few strokes later was pushing inside of you as deep as she could, spilling herself with a shuddering breath. She whimpered as strings of cum continued to shoot out of her and into you, coating your insides with her potent seed.
"Fuck," she breathed as she slowly drew her hips back. She looked down, seeing a mixture of your cum and hers along her cock before she pushed back inside of you, loving the way you moaned at the motion.
You stayed in one another's embrace for as long as you could before you both agreed that you should head back to your respective cabins. You reluctantly put on your clothes and walked back towards the guest cabins hand in hand.
You reached yours first and Jessie walked you up the steps to the door, no longer caring if someone saw you two together.
"Aww, it's like a first date," you said facetiously with a chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her and she kissed you. She leaned into your ear and whispered.
"Yeah, except this time my cum's deep inside of you and with any luck you'll be carrying my baby soon."
You blushed and swatted at her.
"Stop," you hushed her as she grinned at you. You relented with a brief shake of your head. "True though." Jessie continued to grin devilishly at you and you gave her another playful shove. "K. Get to bed, you heathen. You have a very important event tomorrow and you better not be late."
She kissed you again. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
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Despite Jessie's exceptional dislike for attention, she felt calm and elated as she stood with you at the alter in front of all your friends and family and said your vows to one another.
The ceremony was lovely. The tears started early. First being when her mom came out with Riley; Riley in her dress and Jessie's mom's at the ready as Riley waddled down the aisle as she haphazardly threw handfuls of petals on the ground, straight up into the air - sometimes at the guests - dropping the basket entirely as she spotted Jessie and ran towards her, clutching her leg tightly.
"Up! Up!" Riley asked and Jessie glanced to her mom. She was supposed to sit with her mom and dad during the ceremony. She looked down at her little girl - with her curly, dark hair, brown eyes and bright red cheeks - she really was Jessie's kid. She bent down and picked her up, holding her against her hip.
"You look so pretty, my girl," Jessie whispered to her as she kissed her forehead. She pointed towards the crowd. "Let's wait for momma, okay? She'll be here soon."
She couldn't keep her eyes off of you. She started crying the second she saw you in your dress. It must've surprised Riley, because the little one just clung to her harder and buried her head in her neck.
"My two favourite people," you cooed as you came up, kissing Riley on the cheek and cupping Jessie's face to give her a quick peck. You made a face immediately after. "Oops, am I not supposed to kiss you yet?"
"Who cares," Jessie laughed as she handed Riley over to you, the toddler reaching for you as you stood across from them.
"Hi sweetie," you said as you took her. "Did you know mommy would've never asked me to marry her if not for you?"
"What!" Jessie protested in as hushed a tone as she could muster. She could feel her cheeks heating up already. "Of course I would've!"
"I'm just kidding," you told her. You laughed at how flustered Jessie was and gave her a wink. "We're off to a good start."
You handed Riley to her grandparents and the ceremony continued, culminating with you slipping new bands on each other's fingers and sharing a kiss that had everyone cheering and clapping.
Considering how some wedding receptions were, yours and Jessie's was pretty tame - at least for you two.
Even though it was probably overkill, you'd switched to non-alcoholic, coming up with creative excuses as to why and Jessie was simply never much for drinking in the first place. Though, her friends did manage to get her to do a couple of shots that left her cringing and coughing as you watched on and laughed.
Jessie was chatting with some of the guests when she heard her daughter's laugh followed by thundering, but clumsy, footsteps as she ran through the crowd, people nearly tripping over themselves to avoid bumping into her. She'd discovered a few weeks ago that she could run - or something akin to it - and she'd been nonstop ever since.
Jessie laughed as suddenly you emerged from a group and picked Riley up mid-run. She pouted and flailed momentarily, but whatever you said to her caused her to relax in your arms. Jessie excused herself from conversation and smiled as she approached you two.
"Look who's here," you said as you looked down to Riley and pointed to Jessie.
"Mommy!" Riley exclaimed, beaming upon seeing Jessie.
"She's having a field day out here," you said slyly to Jessie with a teasing look. "Running any chance she can get. Cheeks extra rosy from running around. And look at that smile," you said as you gently poked your daughter's cheek, eliciting a giggle from her. You looked at Jessie pointedly. "She's certainly your daughter."
Jessie took a moment to kiss Riley before leaning in to whisper in your ear.
"She better be mine," she teased. You pulled back with a smirk before leaning in to whisper back.
"What? You wouldn't want me carrying and having someone else's baby?"
Before Jessie could respond, you were walking away, eyes glimmering playfully. She called after you.
"No. I'd despise that!"
You turned and shrugged, earning a dangerous look from her. You grinned and grasped Riley's hand to give Jessie a small wave before disappearing into the crowd knowing full well that conversation wasn't over.
A short while later, Jessie found herself getting pulled out onto the dance floor by you. She grumbled in protest, but allowed you to push and pull her as you wished as you danced to whatever song was playing.
"You're my wife. You're supposed to be happy about dancing with me," you teased.
"I'm happy to be with you. I just don't like dancing," Jessie refuted as she half-heartedly tried to dance along, though was always half a beat - or more - behind.
"You didn't seem too bothered dancing with me when we were at that club on New Year's a few years back," you said with a glint in your eye. "Mind you, probably not appropriate for here."
Jessie's mind flashed back to you grinding up on her. In a sea of people, she was solely focused on you and how incredible you looked and that it was her you were with. True - not appropriate for here. She gave you a lopsided smirk either way.
"I wouldn't be opposed," she joked though her eyes raked up and down your body in appreciation. "And you look even more gorgeous than you did that night."
"Yeah?" You asked as you moved in close and Jessie wrapped her arms around your waist.
"You better cool it," Jessie warned in a murmur as her eyes drifted away. "I don't exactly need wedding photos of me sporting a boner."
You cleared your throat, drawing her eyes back to you. "Well, your daughter did ask for her light up running shoes. Those are back at the cabin."
Jessie's eyes studied you for a moment as a smile crept across her face.
"Oh. Well, we should definitely go get them. That's what good parents would do."
"Absolutely," you agreed.
You both looked around briefly to ensure no one was watching either of you too closely before Jessie grabbed you by the hand and led you out of the hall. The sun was setting as you two walked the paths back to the guest cabins. She retrieved the skeleton key from her pocket and showed it to you.
"And we can get into the honeymoon cabin this time," she told you proudly and you laughed, wrapping your arm around hers and cuddling in as you walked together towards the cabin.
You were kissing each other as you stumbled through the door and slammed it shut behind you.
"Pretty sure we're supposed to wait until the end of the night for this," you chuckled as Jessie was already starting to undo her dress pants.
"Well, we've done a lot of things out of order," she dismissed with a grin as she kissed your neck and guided you towards the couch. "And who's to say we're not going to do more later."
She kissed your lips and made sure the kiss didn't break as she took a seat on the couch and pulled you down on top of her. She bundled up your dress and lifted it so it was out of the way and she could have access to your underwear. She ran her fingers along the fabric and felt herself growing harder as she could feel the warmth and definition of your lips through the thin fabric.
"Fucking me during the reception," you teased as you kissed her deeper. "Gosh, I really am a terrible influence on you."
"Fuck no," Jessie disagreed with a wily smirk. "You're the best." She lifted you off of her to stand for a moment as she removed your underwear. She grinned as she tucked them into her pocket.
"I've created a monster," you joked as you pulled her cock out from her boxer briefs and straddled her waist once more, bracing yourself on her shoulders as you held yourself up as she poised herself at your entrance.
She ran the thick head of her cock against your entrance, getting it coated in your juices before she began to gently nudge at it and push inside. She moaned in pleasure as your tunnel slowly welcomed her, enveloping her length as she inched inside of you.
"Fuck. I'm so glad I can ditch the condoms again. God." She exhaled through her mouth as she looked you up and down. "Nothing feels as good as being inside of you like this. Nothing between us."
"God," you said as you tossed your head back and ran your fingers through her hair as you sunk down onto her and slowly rose back up. "I'm not kidding you - I've soaked through these panties more than once today thinking about last night. That was so fucking sexy."
Jessie growled as she began kissing down your neck and as much of your chest as your dress would allow.
"I noticed you're not drinking tonight," Jessie commented. "Think I knocked you up that fast?"
"You did last time," you chuckled as you began to ride her at a steady rhythm, her tip stretching out your entrance, teasing her, before swallowing her once more.
Jessie exhaled heavily - already feeling overwhelmed by the way you felt around her, the way you looked bouncing up and down in her lap - in your wedding dress no less - and the way your hands explored her.
"Y/N Fleming," she declared as she pulled you into a hard kiss. "Can't believe I've waited so long to make it official. To have you take my name." She rolled her hips up into you as she pulled you down into her lap. "Fuck. You're all mine."
"Oh God," you whimpered, head thrown back once more and eyes closed. "I'm yours. And you're mine."
"Always," she affirmed with zero hesitation. Her mouth hung open as she worked to steady her breath. She could feel blood rushing to her face and knew her cheeks were red with exertion. She shook her head. "I can't believe there was ever a time before you."
"Same, baby," you reciprocated as you looked down at her, cupping her face as you sensually rocked atop of her.
Despite your agreement, Jessie felt a rush go through her. She tightened her grip on your hips as began to buck up into you from below. She spoke through nearly clenched teeth.
"I hate that anyone was ever with you," she said. "You were made for me. They didn't deserve you."
Your eyes fell shut again and you leaned into her, your hands gripping her shoulders. "Holy shit. No one's ever fucked me like you. Or loved me like you."
Jessie snickered smugly, the sound of her hips bouncing off of your thighs resounded loudly in her ears.
"Well no one could ever make me feel like you do. I'm so lucky I met you."
"Jess," you whimpered as your body collapsed into her and you held her tightly. "I love you so much."
Jessie grunted as you rode her, your walls flexing and massaging her in the most exquisite way. She began to buck into you faster and her breathing grew ragged. You clutched her and she looked up to see your own cheeks rosy and your mouth slightly open as you pleasured one another.
"I can't wait until I start swelling with your baby again," you panted and Jessie's eyes slammed shut to the point of wincing as she fought off her climax. She wanted you cumming all over her cock before she flooded you.
"Jesus Christ. You are so sexy. I couldn't keep my hands off you last time. I never can - but God you look incredible carrying my baby." She grunted as she nearly came. "My gorgeous wife. So fucking beautiful."
"Don't stop," you begged as your orgasm neared. She watched you steadily as your expressions changed and you panted and moaned.
"My gorgeous girl," Jessie praised. "You look perfect bouncing up and down on my cock like this. And soon you'll be walking around this wedding with my cum dripping down your legs."
"Oh shit," you gasped as you began to convulse around her cock. Your movements stilled, fingers digging into her shoulders as your orgasm shook you. The way your softness spasmed around her, Jessie had no hope of fighting off her climax further and let out a whining grunt as she released inside of you.
"Oh, fuck, Jessie," you panted as she began to rut into you, shooting string after string of her cum inside of you.
You collapsed in her arms on top of her as you both panted and worked to regain your breath.
When you finally went to climb off of her, you both maneuvered yourself in a way that tried to limit how much of her cum was going to spill out onto her pants. Even then, your disappearance from the reception was extended further as you both worked to clean the cum off her pants before you made your return. Eventually, you gave up and Jessie got changed into a different outfit - people would believe she wanted to get into something more comfortable. You followed suit and got changed as well.
You returned to the hall and though you both received a few comments about your costume changes, all in all your absence was met with minimal questioning. Riley was thrilled to get her light-up shoes and immediately went stomping around the dancefloor squealing with delight.
Jessie continued to mingle with friends and family, as did you, and the night wore on. But it was really only a matter of time until a familiar cry soared over the music and din of the crowd.
Jessie frowned, excusing herself from a conversation and headed in the direction of her daughter's cries. She spotted you navigating the crowd and you caught each other's eye. When you both found Riley, she was red in the face, tears staining her cheeks as her grandparents tried to soothe her.
"What's going on?" Jessie asked as she approached, kneeling down in front of her as her dad bounced Riley on his knee.
"She just started asking for you both and got upset that you weren't here," he answered.
"Oh, Ri," Jessie said as she picked up her daughter and began to bounce her in her arms. She looked to her dad. "She's probably just tired. I know she had a nap, but it's been a big day." She looked down at Riley and spoke softly, "Are you tired, sweetie?" Riley wailed louder, her little hands bundling Jessie's shirt in their grasps, but as Jessie kissed her forehead her cries tapered. "I know it's been a long day. I understand - I need a break, too," she chuckled. "You've done so well."
Riley sniffled, her little shoulders hitching as her cries ebbed. Jessie signaled to her parents that she'd handle it. She and you took Riley over to a quiet corner of the hall. Jessie sat down, resting Riley in her lap and kissed the top of her head.
"She should really go down for bed," you said as you rubbed her back.
"Her and me both," Jessie said dryly with a smirk. "I'm exhausted." You played with her hair and kissed her cheek.
"And you didn't get a nap," you joked and Jessie gave you a playful sidelong glance. You rest your head on her shoulder. "Are we allowed to leave before the guests?"
"I think that's a bit of a faux pas, but honestly, I'm very tempted," she said as she eyed the room and contemplated the option. She looked down at Riley whose eyes were heavy as the toddler hung onto the precipice of sleep. She then glanced over at you. "I mean, everyone here knows neither you or I are big partiers. And, we have a toddler to look after..."
You chuckled, tucking a strand of Jessie's hair behind her ear. "I mean, your parents are happy to look after Riley and she's supposed to be staying with them again tonight."
"But she wants us," Jessie said with a pointed glance downward at their daughter who was resting very peacefully in her arms now. "Clearly."
You leaned over and kissed Jessie's cheek. "You know? I'm sure everyone will forgive us if we duck out."
------
A short while later, Riley was asleep in the middle of the king size bed in your cabin with Jessie laying next to her in a t-shirt and shorts, you climbing into bed in your pyjamas on the opposite side.
"Is this what you would've pictured for your wedding night years ago?" You teased as you lay propped on your side looking across Riley and over at Jessie who mirrored your position.
"Stone cold sober, party still raging on at the reception, and my toddler fast asleep between me and my new wife?" She asked with a lopsided grin, her head in her hand. "No. But I adore it." You snickered and gently pushed down Riley's rogue curls as she slept.
"Same," you said.
"We have a beautiful family and we're very lucky," Jessie mused as she carefully leaned over to give you a chaste kiss. You smiled into it and laid a hand on your stomach as Jessie pulled back.
"And maybe there'll be four of us soon enough."
A/N: That's all, folks! I can't thank you enough for joining me on this ride. What started as a one-shot I was super nervous to post, has been embraced by so many of you and you've allowed me to create and share this love story with you all. It truly means so much. Thank you!
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k0yaz · 5 months ago
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shackled.
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Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, arranged marriage, arle referred to as your husband, use of her real name, idk if this is angst so I’ll tag it as angst and fluff, wlw, I actually fucking hate arranged marriages irl but it’s interesting to write about, fun when it’s the character you like and not a 10 year old girl getting married to an ugly ass 60 year old man who gets no bitches, uhm anyway not proofread.
A/N: nobody gonna request arrange marriage? I’ll do it myself with my husband/husbwife arlecchino 🕯️
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Uneven beats of your heart pulsed in your eardrums continuously as you stared out the open window, a cool breeze caressing your downcast face gently. Your pupils flickered down to your extended left hand, dilating smaller out of disdain upon catching sight of the cold silver ring encircling your ring finger.
You dreaded it. This arranged marriage parted an endless uncomfortable pit in your stomach, which you had felt would remain as long as you were trapped in a bind you didn’t want. Gazing down at ring once more, you couldn’t help but find it difficult to swallow the choked feeling in your throat whenever you laid eyes upon the ruby, nausea enveloping every possible sense you had in the moment. Rather than a promise ring that bound you to someone you loved, the one on your finger felt like a tiny silver collar clamped around your flesh. An irking feeling that forced you to love a stranger.
Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Arlecchino. The woman had actively attempted to respect your personal space, being able to tell how much you loathed the inescapable grasp of your arranged marriage. You could tell that she opposed even the thought of this, especially from the way her eyes would stare down at her own ring with an empty and unfeeling expression.
Sighing deeply, you reached an arm up to grasp the satin curtains, before tugging your arms inward in a single dynamic motion. As you turned your back to walk away from the now closed up windows, you felt a gust of light air brush against your nape, causing you to spin around and lower your eyes from slight annoyance. Right. You forgot to shut the windows first. You just went over to shut the windows, still harboring a hint of irritation. Ever since that marriage, you always tended to feel unwilling to do anything anymore. Frequently always irritated by the smallest of actions as you’d always think to yourself—what’s the point?
Upon closing up the windows completely, you fell back onto the intricately decorated sofa set situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your mind still a cluttered mess from all your thoughts being scrambled rather than neatly arranged in an array. You began to ponder once more. How things could’ve been different. Ran away, or disobeyed your parents to a full extent.
There wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t see a point in even trying to keep a happy front anymore. All of your aspirations that you had, every little dream, was now out of your reach as you were shackled into this marriage. The warm air of the heater hit your skin as you rested your cheek into your palm. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you mused at the possible scenarios that could’ve happened if you were free. Perhaps if you were wallowing in your delusion, you could smile atleast once.
“I’m home.”
You blinked from sudden surprise, jolting as the bedroom door creaked open—albeit a bit roughly. Arlecchino’s emotionless voice rang in your ears, had she called out upon entering before? She often enters the living room first, and doesn’t enter the bedroom until nightfall. Then again, you tend to reside in the living room to await your husband’s return, so maybe she simply wondered where you were.
Stray specks of blood decorated her cheek, scattering small splatters ranging in a variety of spots across her face. Right. She was the fourth harbinger after all. You folded your arms as Arlecchino towered over you, still standing upright while her x-marked eyes pierced into you. Shifting uncomfortably, you decided to clear your throat, gesturing towards your own cheek in an attempt to break the thick fog of tension between you two from the lack of words.
“You got some-“
“I’m aware.” Arlecchino replied coldly, making you bite back a scoff at the harbinger’s dismissive response. Well, excuse you for trying to make this shitty marriage more bearable.
Still, it didn’t seem intentionally rude although it did come off that way. You only looked away from her, eyes fixating on a random painting hung over the flower pot on one of the shelves. Hunching your shoulders, you bit down on your quivering lip subtly so that Arlecchino wouldn’t notice. Although you were the one that distanced yourself from her. Although you were the one who only focused on despising this marriage, rather than even trying to get closer to Arlecchino in the slightest for atleast a small hint of peace. It still hurt seeing your husband brush you off like this.
Her seemingly exhausted expression remained glued to her face as she dragged the folded white washcloth along her cheek, eyes staring at the ground aimlessly as she continued to clean her stained face. The weight of all of this had clearly taken a toll on her as well, yet she had to keep a sturdy front for the sake of her profession as a Fatui harbinger. Yet her actions regarding you had always been courteous and respectful. Consistently respecting your boundaries and trying her best to avoid making you feel uncomfortable must have taken a toll on her, especially knowing full well that your resentment for this marriage could have set you off at any given moment.
A sudden wave of sympathy flooded you upon seeing Arlecchino’s tired eyes, dark linings shaded below her eyes as well. Just maybe, you could try to repay her for having your comfort in mind throughout the course of this resented relationship. This relationship wasn’t her fault, and you knew that. She hated this just as much as you did.
Deciding to swallow your pride, you rose to your feet, standing before her as you awkwardly shifted for a couple moments while remaining standing there. Arlecchino paused her movements, raising an eyebrow at your sudden motion of getting up off the couch. She simply stared at you with a puzzled gaze, trying to figure out your sudden want to interact with her.
Hesitantly, you reached out a shaky hand, lining it up with her cheek and gesturing her to lean in. Arlecchino on the other hand, wasn’t expecting you to switch up suddenly like this, only keeping her skeptical gaze locked onto your own eyes. It felt like a trap to lean in to someone who was so hesitant to even look at her. No matter how badly she wanted to lean into the soft skin of your palm, her hesitance seemed to uphold her rationality despite her exhaustion.
“Arle…it’s okay, you can lean in…”
She needn’t be told twice as you felt her hand grab ahold of your wrist to keep it in place, her head nearly collapsing against your hand. Deep breaths echoed within the vicinity, her breaths cancelling every other noise around you two as Arlecchino slowly composed herself from your touch. She pulled back after a couple moments, her cold front faltering for a moment with a flash of tenderness, before immediately snapping back to her calm demeanor.
However, you didn’t stop there. You don’t know what flipped that switch in you, but you just felt the urge to grow closer to Arlecchino. Perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone in the hellhole of a marriage, and that you two may be suffering together. Knowing she hated this as much as you was comforting, it remedied your internal turmoil slightly, and made you detest the idea of anyone else going through what you were. Or maybe, it was the fact that Arlecchino didn’t push anything in this marriage, and respected you, preventing your mental state from growing worse. It could even be both.
Regardless, you wanted to atleast provide a sort of ease to her. Cupping her cheek once more, you pulled the washcloth from her hand, rubbing it against her cheek in circular motions as stains of blood began to soak up onto the cloth and coloring it red. Arlecchino didn’t seem to protest your attempt at soothing her, face pressing further into your shaky palm as it seemed to be working. The quiet buzz of the heater reverberating through the silence, and the general tidy atmosphere of the neatly arranged bed made everything feel so right. As if this marriage wasn’t so awful after all.
Arlecchino exhaled a swift sigh as you finished washing up her face, remaining silent. The two of you awkwardly awaited for the other to speak up, the crickets outside chirping louder than the two of you by this point. You finally decided to say something, face tinged a light pink from moderate embarrassment
“You didn’t want this either did you?”
Arlecchino shook her head in affirmation, her eyes still avoiding yours—as if she was afraid that your vulnerability would shift over to her, and shatter her calm self at this moment.
“I’m well aware of this situation. Your parents are already closely associated with the Fatui, and want wanted you to marry a harbinger in order to elevate their own status for the sake of the family.” She replied. A sour taste seeped onto your tongue at the mention of the reason why you were forced into this in the first place, unpleasant memories beginning to race through your mind for a few moments.
“Why did you accept the offer then? You could’ve easily declined if you didn’t want to be in this marriage either. There’s multiple other harbingers my parents would’ve auctioned me off to.” You said bitterly, strangely hating the idea of getting married to anyone who wasn’t Arlecchino at this point. Arlecchino merely shrugged in response, raising her shoulders to remove the white fur coat cloaking her and draping it neatly over the coat hanger drilled into the wall.
“I’m not sure.” She paused, taking some time to think over another answer to compensate for her vague response. “I believe I just felt it was necessary in that moment.”
You sighed back collapsing onto the mattress. Suddenly, you felt an arm circle your waist, pulling you closer as you felt Arlecchino push her torso flush against your back. Your face burned from the sudden intimate action, the warmth of her body only serving to make you lean into her further as her sharp nails raked along your stomach lightly. Arlecchino whispered out against you, visibly less uptight than when she came in. She was a bit more relaxed and clingy with you simply with a mere touch against her cheek, it was sweet honestly.
“I still care about you, (Name).” She muttered against your neck, voice muffled as she was evidently quite tired. Pale rays of the moonlight illuminated Arlecchino’s now eased expression, watching her eyes lowered shut as her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Surprisingly, you found yourself relishing in the comfort of her arms as you flipped onto your side facing her to examine her rested features.
“…I’m starting to care about you too, Peruere.”
Your hand drew down along her arm, all the way from the skin of her shoulder down to the black faded enveloping her arms from her curse. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. You found solace in the fact that you could make the best out of this marriage with a woman who kept you in mind and tried her best to care about your interests.
Maybe, you could warm up to her.
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A/N: im screaming idk if this turned out good guys pls asaaawaabshshs but yayyyyy arlecchino MY CONTENT WARNINGS WERE ASS ON THIS ONE WHY ARE THEY SO BORING AND SAD ‼️
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sunnie-angel · 26 days ago
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i've had this idea for a kind of cracky jason todd x reader hockey au rattling around in my head for close to 10 months now but i don't think i'm ever gonna have the motivation to sit down and write this particular fic, so! here's the outline for what i would have written. honestly if anyone wants to adopt the fic, go for it.
you're the assistant manager of the Gotham Knights, the city's beloved hockey team that hasn't had a shot at the regional championship in years. this year, the impossible's happened: the Knights have made it not only to the championships, but to the top six teams. there's only three games that stand between the Knights and total victory, but the first team you're set to play is notoriously dirty. send opposing team players to the hospital in stretchers regularly kind of dirty.
and so what do you do? well with not only your job but your hometown pride on the line, in a fit of desperation you reach out to famous local crime lord Red Hood. high on caffeine and adrenaline, you ask if he’ll be an alternate goalie (he's already got the right helmet for it) going into the championships because no one in their right mind is going to sabotage a crime lord’s team right in front of him. hell, just with him riding the bench, it might be enough to save your boys from getting the shit beat out of them.
and of course jason isn’t really a big sports fan but he is a son of Gotham so like hell is he gonna let the Knights lose at their one big chance if he can help it. so Red Hood becomes the team’s alternate goalie and yeah, the first few practices are awkward, but because toeing the line of insanity has paid off so far, you tell him that yeah he may be a crime lord that’s there mainly to intimidate the other team but he’s still gotta do practice drills if he wants any ice time during the game.
and when the other team finds out, they throw a fit. their manager tries to get him barred from the game, but Hood’s not a meta, has never actually been prosecuted for a crime, and technically his legal name is last name hood first name red so they can’t make him give up a civilian identity just to play. the publicity around the attempts to bar him only drive more interest surrounding the regional championship and suddenly every single game of the next few matches is sold out. you're keeping your job based on that turn around alone (the Hood jerseys sold out in minutes), but now you're determined to get these guys to win.
jason as red hood accidentally becomes a permanent part of the team after they win the regional championships and then get bumped up to compete for the national championship. you're no longer afraid of him because even if you've never seen his face, you have carried him moaning back from a session with the physio because he's got soo many weird injury issues that are finally getting long term treatment. kinda hard to be afraid of a guy who's just been giggling from pain as the 8-year old knot in their neck finally gets released, you know?
as the Gotham Knights get closer to their first ever national championship title game, jason starts to develop a weirdly good relationship with the rest of the Bats. they may disagree with his methods and ethics but Gotham actually has the chance to win at something so they won’t go after him for now. at least not until he wins them that trophy. and anyways, keeping busy with hockey mean's jason's got less time to be putting heads in duffel bags which really goes a long way to making bruce happy.
along the journey to the championship cup, jason and reader fall in love.
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mindmelter · 10 months ago
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The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas
The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)
The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.
The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.
Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.
Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.
The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.
The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.
Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...
_______________________________________
Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.
(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo
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Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?
Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.
Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.
Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol
Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10
Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.
Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.
Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!
Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.
_______________________________________
David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.
He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"
(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:
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David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.
Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.
David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.
Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.
_______________________________________
Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.
(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:
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Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.
Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.
Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.
Peter: lol
Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.
Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.
Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol
Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.
_______________________________________
Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.
He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.
(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:
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Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.
Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.
Harold: This sounds like a good deal.
Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.
Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?
(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)
In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.
_______________________________________
Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.
(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:
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Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.
David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!
Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.
Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.
David: Send us a video if you do.
_______________________________________
Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.
(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:
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Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.
Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.
Isaac: Wow he's packing.
Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.
(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:
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Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.
Harold: Holly fuck!!!
Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.
Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?
Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.
Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?
Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.
Joel Sent A Photo:
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Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.
Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!
Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.
Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.
(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:
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Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.
Joel: Yes sir!
Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!
Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.
_______________________________________
Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.
He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.
(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:
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Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?
Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.
Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.
Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.
Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.
Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.
659 notes · View notes
sunflowersteves · 2 years ago
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come and get your love || j.m.
chapter one of ain’t no sunshine
pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader
summary || someone across the Tipsy Bison had their hand on you all night. how long will Joel Miller take to do something about it?
author's note || first part of the series! all of the chapters can be read as a stand alone, but they do go in order of a time line. hope you all enjoy <3 4.1k words
warnings || jealousy, insecurities, angst, toxic people, possessiveness, fluff, 10 year age gap (joel is 51), SMUT, praise kink, oral sex (f rec), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, [18+ only]
series masterlist || masterlist
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Hail, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine And you're mine, and you look so divine
Joel’s eyes lingered on your form from across the bustling bar. It was in the middle of a Wyoming summer, so you wore a pretty light blue sundress. You could feel the cool breeze brush up against your thighs and the sun beating down on your skin just from the dusty windows. 
You came home one day, telling Joel and Ellie that you traded some old tactical pants for the frilly dress. Joel choked on his morning coffee when he caught a glimpse—Ellie just laughed and laughed. And now, you looked unbelievably perfect, all while you fluttered around the chairs and tables in the Tipsy Bison, talking with friends and newcomers. 
Although, his soft, love-sick eyes started to harden as they continued to follow you. 
The mere sight of someone flirting with you—a shoulder leaning on a support pole with sparkling eyes—was going to send his old bones into a coma. He was sure of it. Joel's chest started to burn from a sizzling rage that crept up to his cheeks. 
You were as friendly as you could be with a beer in your hand and a laugh escaping your lips. He knew you were oblivious to the flirting. You always have been. 
A couple of years ago, along the endless roads of traveling to get Ellie where she needed to go, Joel had been trying to get your attention for weeks, despite his damn self-sabotage that forced himself to avoid you in the previous months before. Ellie saw through it, though. Tommy saw it too. Hell, even Tess saw through it. The one person who had not seen just how much Joel was infatuated and hopelessly in love with you was, well, you. 
He thought that it was because he was rough and unrestrained. Joel was a jagged edge of a rock that cut deep into anyone that came near him. He thought you might not want to be with him and all of his baggage.
You were the exact polar opposite of him. You were a ray of sunshine—a burst of fresh air that knocked the breath out of his lungs. You could handle yourself out there in the depths of survival. He did not doubt that, but you were still warmhearted and sweet. You were what the rest of the world seemed to have forgotten.
Turns out, though, he couldn't have been more wrong. 
Your mind and body were washed over with every essence of Joel. When his hand was on your back to gently guide you through rugged terrain or when you instinctively grabbed onto his upper arm when a lone stranger bumped into your third-person party—your mind becomes blank.
The only thing, you said when you finally confessed, you could think about was Joel. Your body would freeze, and time would slow, your heart the only exception as it beats so rapidly you thought it might burst. So, in the end, Joel finds himself elated with pride and pure adoration that he was able to make you feel so free—so full of love.
“Are you gonna do something? Or are you just going to sit here and be ��old-man’ sad?” 
Joel snapped out of his daze, turning his head toward Ellie. She had her eyebrow raised, with a hand on a freshly opened beer bottle. 
“Gimme that.” He muttered under his breath and swiped the bottle away from her. She let out a small, “Hey! You dick!” before huffing in frustration. “You ain’t even eighteen yet.” He slid the bottle over to Maria, who nodded back to Joel. “I’m almost eighteen!”
He huffed, ignoring Ellie’s comment. “And no. She’s got it handled.” 
You were probably the friendliest, kindest person that Ellie had ever met—especially in this shitty, fucked up world. Along the dusty gravel roads of travel, you would hold her hand and swing back and forth as Joel trailed not far behind. At night, you would shuffle your sleeping bag closer to hers, so you could laugh and giggle at her pun book until falling into a distant slumber. In the mornings, when you and Joel were keeping watch, and a lone stranger would interrupt your three-person party, you jumped in front of Ellie and pointed your shotgun at the intruder. You turned quickly, if not instantly, into a mother figure for her. 
So, Ellie knows that you have got it far from handled. She knows you are completely unsuspecting of the person that was practically throwing himself on top of you. 
“Yeah, you are so full of shit.”
Now, in your defense of the flirting, everyone in Jackson knew not to make a move on you. It has been established from the very beginning that you and Joel are made for each other. All you could ever see was each other. Always. 
So, at the end of things, when someone walked up to you with a bright smile and a gleam in their eyes that screamed “please fuck me,” you didn’t think anything of it. Your mind was no doubt in a Joel Miller trance—thoughts rolling over one another about the plains of his skin and the gruff feeling of his patchy beard on your fingertips. But when a newcomer comes along in the commune and gets introduced to everybody, that’s when they try to make their mark on you. 
“She’s fine—”
“You sure, Joel?” His eyes flickered back towards you and saw the newcomer squeeze your forearm. You think nothing of it and crack another joke at who you thought was a new friend, causing them to throw their head back in very exaggerated laughter. 
And now, Joel wasn’t sure at all—not with the bubbled-up feeling that wrapped around his chest and sunk down into his stomach. He grunted out in response to Ellie, who rolled her eyes at his demeanor. Yeah, he was far from sure. 
“Go say something, Grandpa—”
He raised his eyebrow, “hey—”
“Ellie’s right, you know.” Joel’s head whipped around at Tommy’s voice. “She doesn’t even know the guy’s flirting. She’s too trustin’ of people.” 
He gave his older brother a little smile—an all too knowing teasing smile. Joel didn’t say anything, just downing the rest of his whiskey. The ice clunked against the glass, and the two next to him just watched with anticipation. 
“Your brooding is scaring the customers away. Go say somethin’, Joel.”
He ponders for just a moment—mind circling around all of the different thoughts in his brain. He knows you are just fine. He knows you wouldn’t ever do anything of the sort.
If you actually knew that the man was flirting with you, you would stop it immediately. You’re just kind. You just wanted to make friends. He wanted you to make friends in this little town you had learned to love.
Before Joel even knows it, though, he's getting up from the stool. His own heart had taken over his body and ran home with it. He could just barely hear Ellie cheer for the old man to do something. 
His boots were heavy as he walked across the bar, his wrinkled eyes hardening with every step. His heart squeezed at the pure sight of you—a smile almost turning his frown up. That is until the squeezing of his other thoughts from the man right in front of you suffocated his chest. 
“Joel!” 
God, you sounded so sweet. Your eyes lit up so bright he thought he might be blinded. Whatever you were talking about with your new friend, it completely went out the window when you heard the stomps of his boots. 
“Hi, darlin’.” 
His hand ghosted the small of your back, and it almost caused you to shiver. You looked up at him with a pretty smile, opening your mouth to let him in on the conversation. “We were just talking about patrols. I was saying how we saw that bear with the three cubs the other day! and—”
“Can we help you?” The man, you knew as Brad, scowled right up at Joel for interrupting the conversation the two of you were having earlier. Oh, Joel did not like Brad. The scrunch of his nose as he tried to challenge Joel—as if you were a possession—was kicking up a deep rage in his chest. 
Joel opened his mouth to respond but was met with a very enthusiastic smile from you. You looked so excited. “This is Joel! He’s my—”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s great. Could he leave now?”
Joel’s back stretched at the complete disrespect. He could handle people being mean to him just fine. When it comes to you, however, he wouldn’t tolerate anything of the sort. You were the thread that kept Ellie and Joel sane with your homemade gifts and fluttering smile. No one was going to ruin that on his watch. 
Joel watched as your bright, smiling face fell.
“Oh.” 
You felt your heart deflate from being interrupted again. It took a lot for someone to build you down, and Brad had managed to do it in no time. You thought you had made a new friend to hang out with. You thought you were finally getting along with someone in Jackson. 
Watching your face fall made something click in Joel’s head. His burning glare never left Brad’s face as he continued to run his mouth about Joel ‘needing to leave’ or something like that. This is why he hated newcomers. They think they could take advantage of your kind gestures and bring you down with them. 
Brad looked at you and then Joel—as if something finally fits in his head. He clicked his tongue, “I have been trying to get you home all night. Don’t tell me you were with him the whole time?”
“What?”
You looked bewildered at the insinuation of ever getting with Brad—let alone anyone that isn’t Joel. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
If Joel wasn’t preoccupied with watching Bradley’s every move, he would’ve snorted at your change in demeanor. You could be the biggest angel there is, but there is no doubt a fire lit right inside of you.
“I have been here with you all fucking night. You think I’d waste my time talking about shitty flowers with you?” His lips curled into a sniveling smirk.
Your hand clenched by your side but was caught as Brad’s hand went to tighten itself around your wrist. You tried to wriggle your way out of his grip, but it felt too firm. “Why don’t you ditch the old man and come with me, sunshine.”
Joel saw the hand on your wrist—the bruising grip he had on you. He saw the sickly, lust-filled eyes that the man was giving you. He knew you could handle yourself. You could throw this random man over your shoulder like he was nothing. 
But something struck him even deeper.
Sunshine.
That was what Joel called you in the secret comfort of whispered feelings. It was what Joel called you when you were badly injured, and he needed to disinfect the wound. The first time it popped into his head was when you were dancing around with Ellie underneath the morning sun. The cute nickname just stuck, and it was his.
Only his. 
Joel snapped in an instant. The long years of survival worked quickly in his brain. He bunched up Brad’s collar and shoved him hard against the wooden pole—jolting his hand from your wrist. “Get your fucking hands off of her.”
You gasped at the lightning speed of Joel’s hand on Brad’s chest, but you weren’t too phased. Adrenaline shot through your chest and spread down to your toes—eyes locking on Joel’s crinkled brows and hard-set glare. 
“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do?” Brad spat.
The bar went silent at the altercation, eyes darting to watch the scene play out. You didn’t pay any attention, though. Your eyes were on Joel. Just Joel.
Brad squirms a bit underneath Joel’s stare, but he seems to be trying to remain tough. Joel’s grip never wavered and almost shoved him further into the pole. 
“If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fuckin’ arms.” His accent slurred together with each click of his tongue. 
You could feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you could feel it radiate off of his clenched fist. Joel squeezed even tighter against his neck, almost suffocating some of the air in Brad’s throat. He then let out a wheeze, eyes widening at just how serious Joel Miller can be. 
“You got it?” Brad’s eyes squinted at Joel before looking into the crowd around him. Terrified of all the stares and the overwhelming frown on people’s faces—and quite frankly, Joel—Brad finally backs off. 
“Got it.” He said under his breath with a slight cough. Joel very slowly let go of his collar in caution of the man. Brad just nodded, now refusing to make eye contact with the two of you, before sauntering off out of the bar.
Not far behind, Tommy and Maria were alert and watched Brad’s every movement. They had both of your backs as soon as they saw Joel shove him into the pole. Even Ellie was on high alert, which almost caused her to grab the knife in her pocket. 
Joel turned to you in an instant. His eyes glossed over your entire form, grasping every single detail to make sure you were okay. His eyes stopped at the slight tear in your favorite dress. He pursed his lips in annoyance, but then his eyes locked onto your wrist. 
“C’mon. I need to see your wrist.”
═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═
He took you into the back where the aging room was—old barrels full of whiskey and rum stacked high along the walls. He sat you down on a wooden table and went to go find some supplies. 
You sat there, feeling like you were in trouble. Joel hadn’t said a word, and your mind was starting to race at the possibilities of what he was thinking. While it wasn’t abnormal for Joel to act like this, you knew something wasn’t right.
You could see it in his calculating eyes and furrowed eyebrows—the harsh smile lines on his cheeks almost seemed deeper. You could see it in the way that his hand trembled when he moved some papers to the other end of the table.
You felt stupid for not seeing that Brad was flirting with you. God, you felt so dumb. You really thought that you were making a new friend. You felt even dumber that you couldn’t see the hostility in his eyes, either.
What was Joel thinking? Did he hate you? You knew you mistake people’s flirty gestures for friendly acts way too often.
Did it hurt him? Tears started to form on your lash line, and that sunken feeling in your chest only deepened. 
Joel finally came back with a pack of ice and a little box of first aid. He wrapped a rag around the ice so it wouldn’t burn your skin. 
“Here.” He gently placed it onto your skin, and you went to hold it down. You feel your eyebrow twitch in a cringe at the already bruised surface. You hear Joel digging through the kit in haste—no doubt trying to find some kind of ointment.
You closed your eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down at the thought that Joel had to sit here and take care of you, all while you fucked everything up. 
“I’m sorry.”
Joel’s rummaging through the first aid abruptly stopped. He turned to you with confused furrowed brows, but then his eyes widened. He saw your glossy eyes as you tried to avoid his stare. He saw the way your lip slightly wobbled while you tried to hide your emotions.
“It’s all my fault.” 
You said barely under a whisper, but you were on the side of his good ear. He heard you, and damn, his heart couldn’t have been more crushed. You didn’t do a single thing wrong, and yet you blamed yourself.
“It ain’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” He could tell, though, by the look in your eye that you weren’t convinced. He goes to open his mouth, but you beat him to the punch.
“But I should have known!” You flexed out your hand to emphasize the situation. “I should have said something or got the fucking hint!”
You let out a fast breath, eyes darting across the wood floor. His eyes flickered to the ice pack you set back on the table. “I should—I shouldn’t have been so nice! Maybe I could be less—”
Joel snapped back at the realization of what you were going to say. “Don’t you dare.” His hand instinctively lays on top of your thigh. “Don’t you ever change for people like him.”
“But I–” His hand rested so soft on your cheek, and whatever you were going to say died on your tongue. He was inches away from you now, your chests almost touching together. 
“I know my words are shit, but you are everything, darlin’. You are the kindest and brightest person that I’ve ever known.” He finally rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t you even change for me, darlin’.”
You nodded against his forehead with a small smile on your face. You knew he was right. Of course, he was right. Brad was the shithole, not you. 
He leaned in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light as you felt the scruff of his beard against your cheeks. He licks into your mouth, and you find yourself pulling him in closer from his flannel collar. 
His tongue swirled through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years, but pure love was something he still couldn’t get used to. He needed to feel you—needed to touch you. After the searing memory of Brad’s hand on your wrist, he needed to be inside of you.
“Sweet girl,” he almost purred into your mouth, “need you.” 
You nodded into his lips. A whine escaping them seemed to be the only thing that your brain could come up with. In a mere matter of seconds, Joel was able to turn you into a puddle. 
“Need to hear it, darlin’.”
You don’t miss a beat. “Need you, Joel. Please—”
He bunches up the silky dress, and his eyes shine bright as he sees your pretty laced panties. They were dark—a black onyx—that made Joel want to drool. They rested so well on your hips—so tight. He knew there was a wet patch near your core, too.
His nimble fingers shoved your panties aside to dig—just a little—into your dripping folds. He groaned, rough and bold against the plains of your ear. “J-Joel—”
You knew by the slow, agonizing pace that his hands seemed to feel you in, Joel was going to fuck you stupid. He always got slow and steady when he knew he was going to take his sweet, sweet time. 
“Oh! Oh fuck,” the pads of his fingers move to the nub of your clit. They swirled in small circles, and your hands gripped his shoulders so tightly. Your jaw hangs slack as you feel the pleasure blossom through your stomach to your chest.
“That’s it. Yeah. Does that feel good, pretty girl?”
He was smirking, just a little. You could tell by the sound of his voice, but you see the way his lips slightly curled when your eyes flickered up to his.
“Feels so good, Joel—so—so good.” His other hand spread your legs a little wider for him, relishing in the soft pillows of your skin and curves. He gave your thigh a small squeeze before sinking onto his knees.
Your eyes were about to pop out of your head. “Joel—” You warned, honestly concerned about his knees, but the thought quickly left when his other hand shuffled your underwear down to your ankles. He dragged your hips forward so that your ass was hanging just barely off of the wobbly table. 
“Fuck. Look at you drippin’ for me.”
His eyes shined underneath the yellow-hazed lights. His head goes to dip into your folds, and he moans—sending a rough vibration to your folds. You tasted just the same—earthy and sour and so so sweet.
His hand dug into your thigh—the pad of his thumb was pressing deep into your skin. His tongue flicked and swirled to gather up that slick that dripped from your folds. He felt addicted to you—you tasted, felt, looked, and sounded so ethereal. 
“Oh, Joel—” He could have you on his tongue for the rest of his fucking life. The way you call out his name—hands desperately grabbing at his salt and peppered hair and whimpers leaving your lips. “F-Fuck, I–”
Your brain became even mushier with each flick and whirl of his tongue around your folds. “Can’t get enough of this pussy.” He gruffed.
His mouth moved to your swollen clit, and your hips involuntarily jumped—slightly closing around his head. He pried your thighs open with his rough, used hands before shoving them over his shoulders. 
You didn’t have time to react, though. Not when he was moving a finger to tease your folds. “Joel! Oh my god—” You could only whimper and shout his name. You moan, you gasp, and you whimpered even more. 
It’s all you could think about. Joel Joel Joel. He was all you ever seem to think about. 
His finger slid easily into your sopping cunt, and you moaned into the air. His tongue lapped and sucked against your swollen nub—finger simultaneously curling into you.
“Oh, Joel, I-I can’t—”
His mouth left you, only for a moment, but a whine escaped your lips.
“Gonna cum already, darlin’? Hmm?” He inserted another finger without warning, giving that even longer stretch of your walls. 
You gasped, nonsense mumbling from your tongue. He was sure you said his name in there somewhere. He felt his cock twitch at the sparkle in your eyes and the essence of ecstasy that stretched across your glistening, sweaty skin. His long, thick fingers fucked into over and over—tongue swirling across your pretty little clit.
“C’mon, cum for me. That’s it. You’re such a good girl—my good girl.” You hiccuped, head slung back as your walls continued to clench around his fingers. “You can do it, hmm? Cum on my mouth, sunshine.”
You gasped loudly—body short-circuiting and spasming as the orgasm washed over your entire body. Joel’s name was like a mantra stuck on your tongue. Your body felt white-hot and sticky as your juices flushed against Joel’s chin and your inner thighs. 
Sunshine. Sunshine. You heard that over and over again. He watched with those thick eyes as you came undone. And wow, you looked so pretty. Your gasps and moans, your body shuddering from the shattering pleasure that spreads up and down your body. He wants to remember moments like this instead of the dark ones. 
As you came down from your high, you looked down at Joel. Your strong legs pulled him in a bit closer, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his nose. He just looked up at you—no doubt he had the biggest heart eyes on you that anyone had ever seen. 
You started to laugh from the enormous high—cum running down your legs and the fact that not even fifteen minutes ago, you were hassled by another man. The whole situation seemed funny to you now. 
Joel cracked his own smile, just for you. He caressed your cheek and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “Let’s go home, sunshine.” 
You weren’t even sure he caught himself the second time when he called you that. It just flowed off of his tongue so easily.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as wide as you could. You knew what that meant—what he was insinuating. A fire lit inside of your chest. Damn, you could never get used to the way Joel would make you feel.
He grumbled under his breath. “Shut up. I got it.”
Yeah, he definitely didn’t. He needed your help not two seconds later, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You were Joel’s. Joel was yours.
6K notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 3 months ago
Text
Dirty Little Secret
ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader
ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-rough sex, anal sex, whipping, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, face slapping, oral (fem receiving) FREAKY ass chap lmao, reader is a brat and Toji is a whole freak
ꕥ Word Count-this chap- 7k
ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.
Chapter 9 - Masterlist - Playlist
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Chapter 10
The next day
You and Toji Fushiguro are going on a date, it feels so… insane to say that out loud, but here you are in Toji’s Mustang, and his big hand is on your thigh, bare with the pretty little black dress you’re wearing. Your fingertips brush up and down his knuckles gently, feeling the roughness of his skin, and he keeps sneaking glances at you, tongue running along that scar so sexy.
Fuck how are you so attracted to a damn scar? To everything about him, how he’s wearing this dress shirt, so different from his thin gym tees, and you see how it has to stretch over his broad chest. He’s so fucking sexy, you find yourself rocking your hips side to side, thighs shifting. He smirks at you, dark green eyes darting to your bare thighs as you make that motion.
“Excited, doll?” He asks, and you flush a bit, as his fingers brush up and down your thigh, making you tremble.
“You do look really handsome, Mr. Fushiguro.” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes then focusing back on the road.
“Making me sound old as fuck, brat.”
“Well…”
“I’ll beat that ass.”
“You’re not old, silly.” You lean close, pecking a kiss on his cheek, with a little bit of stubble tickling your lips, and he sighs then, as you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent, so manly and he’s wearing some cologne you really like. “I can’t believe we’re going on a date.”
“So surprised? I have a girlfriend I never see, and haven’t taken out.” You tense a bit then, hearing the clear pain in his voice, as you chew your lower lip.
“I don’t think you’ve called me your girlfriend before.”
“Yeah because I’d like you as a wife.”
“You can’t say shit like that!” You pull away, crossing your arms and looking out the window, trying to control your rapidly beating heart.
“What shit, the truth?” He counters, yanking you back to him.
“That’s insane talk. You know it.”
“You think I am sugar coating shit, who the fuck do you think I am? I’m not gonna whisper sweet shit I don't mean, doll.” You blink back emotions, sighing.
“It’s crazy, Toji. How would it work?”
“Go to college online and move in.”
“And my dad!?”
“He’ll get over it when he has a grandbaby.”
“Toji!” He’s scowling, his hands tightening on the wheel as you glare right at him. “Where is all this coming from?”
“Where’s it coming from?” He scoffs, pulling up to a pretty restaurant then, parking and looking at you with his dark brows low. He turns off the car and then bends over, cupping your face. “Did I not tell you I’m fucking in love with your bratty ass?”
“And I love you, but… isn’t this just…”
“Just what?” His words are short, as you look down, but he snatches you by your chin, squishing your cheeks. “Just what, some fun on breaks? I told ya that’s not what I’m wanting. I want you.”
“And I want you. But it’s fucking scary.” He sighs, brushing your hair back, before cupping your face, slamming his lips on yours, and you meet him, hungry for more, kissing more and more, desperate and breathless soon.
“Want you to stay with me. In my arms, got me sappy and shit.” You giggle a bit, blinking back emotions as he whispers those words.
“Toji who knew, you’re so sappy-”
“I will beat you later. Beat your ass black and blue.” You get excited if anything, earning his sexy glare, a big hand squeezing your hip over your little dress. “Keep acting up, no date, I’ll fuck you right here.”
“Fine, fine I’ll be good!”
“Mmhmm.”
Toji is opening your door, but before you all go in he’s pressing you on the car, big hand gripping your ass now, and you feel heat pool, desire in your core, like you can’t breathe. He’s looming over you so big and tall, and you can’t stop the little whine that escapes your throat, earning his lidded gaze and exhale.
“Better be good. I’ll fuck you right here.”
“You will not!”
“Wanna bet, doll?” He licks his lips and your hands slide up his chest now, head tilting back to look up at him.
“No, you’re fucking crazy, you just might.” Toji’s chuckling now, and then kisses you softly, sweeter than usual, intoxicating you with how multifaceted he is, as you peel back all his layers slowly. “Let’s go, I’m excited!”
“Come on, then.” He’s holding you by the waist, hand on the small of your back, as you both head to the pretty restaurant, it’s a steakhouse and much nicer than you’d expect from Toji. For some reason you figured some seedy little place or something, you’re impressed as he pulls out a chair for you.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Fushiguro.” He scowls as he pushes your chair in, sitting all sexy and handsome across from you.
“You’re such a fucking brat. I’ll order you chicken nuggets, how about that kiddo?”
“Chicken nuggets!?”
“Mmm, so cheap too. Do we need crayons and shit-”
“Fuck you, old man!”
“Ahem… hello.” The waitress comes as you two stick your tongues out, and you cover your face, blushing as Toji chuckles, leaning back in his seat. You struggle to save face, kicking him under the table, and watching his knuckles go white as he’s clutching the little black table.
“Hello, he wants the kids meal-”
“Steak for me, kids meal for her-”
“You have to be twelve and under, I’m afraid.” She says seriously, and you and Toji burst into laughter, earning this girl’s confusion. You both struggle to hold in your laughter, getting more serious.
“Can I get a glass of white?” You ask, and she smiles then, nodding and tapping the tablet for your order.
“Can I see an ID?” You pull it out of your purse, showing her, and she then turns to Toji.
“Anything to drink, Sir?”
“Mmm, give me a beer.”
“Got it.”
“Card him too!” Now Toji is kicking at you, and you’re surely confusing this waitress.
“May I see your ID, Sir?” He rolls his green eyes, dark lashes fluttering, and you can’t stop the grin as he shows her the ID. “Very good, any appetizers?
Toji starts to order, and soon you and him are nibbling together, he’s handing you little bites of food, he is scooching your chair next to him, and you’re right next to him now, his big hand burning your skin. You bite your lip, snuggling to his shoulder and sipping your wine.
“Fuck this is nice.” You say softly, Toji hums at that, thumb brushing your inner thigh and making you overheated, as you look up at his eyes, dilated by the soft lights of the restaurant.
“It is nice, could be all the time if you’d live with me.”
“You know that’s-”
“Crazy. Ya keep saying that like we’re not crazy together period.” You sigh, running a fingertip along the glass then.
“That’s true. I mean, theoretically I can do journalism anywhere, it’s all from my computer mostly.”
“See, there you go. You can do that and clean my house-”
“Hell no.”
You both laugh again, as you roll your eyes, as his hand slips up more, taking your breath away. “You like that idea.”
“Shh, you’re so misogynistic.”
“And you eat it up.” He whispers, thumb brushing your already damp panties, you struggle not to cry out, as his touch makes you so needy.
“Maybe.” You admit, and he smirks, eyes lidded as he leans down, turning slightly to kiss your temple, but he’s now rubbing your achy clit in circles, and you bury your face against his neck, crying out your pleasure as quietly as you can. He exhales, kissing down to your ear.
“You’re my little slut, ain’t ya doll?” He cooes ever so quietly, and you just nod eagerly, there’s no sense acting otherwise, you’re letting him run his fingers under your lacy panties, letting the rough pad of his middle finger circle your clit, which twitches in response. Your nails dig into his strong arm, as you struggle to act normal. “Asked ya a question.”
“Yes, I am, Daddy.” You whisper back, and then he’s shoved a thick digit in your little entrance, and you bite your lip so hard it hurts, as you’re gushing around his finger, just barely inside you. “Oh my… fuck…”
“So easy, so wet already, just f’me, huh?” You just nod, then the waitress comes back with your food, and Toji eases back, sucking on his finger blatantly, making your mouth drop as he grins over at you. “Yummy. Looks yummy, yeah doll?”
“Um… uh huh.” Your hands shake as you shut your eyes for a moment, struggling to come to, the man ruins your brain.
Soon you all are digging in, as you try to cool down, then suddenly after about twenty minutes of laughing, of flirting, and of talking shit with the man you’re stupid in love with, a woman comes up to you. She saunters, so tall with blond hair, muscular and lean, swaying her hips in a gorgeous red dress.
“If it isn’t Toji fuckin Fushiguro.” She speaks all sultry, trailing a hand across Toji’s broad shoulder, over his starch business shirt, earning his glare.
“Sure is. Ya need something, Hana?” She scoffs then, leaning down, and Toji takes her hand off his shoulder, as she’s got her perky little breasts full on display, to the point you can see her nipples almost.
“A girl can’t say hi?”
“Nah, not when I’m with someone.”
“I see. And who’s this?” Her voice is purring, you outright scowl at the pretty woman, then glare at Toji, who’s covering his face and wiping down it with a tired expression.
“I’m his girlfriend.” You say then, and Toji smiles, scar stretching as his lips quirk up. She scoffs then, looking wildly at Toji.
“You, dating? Since fuckin when?”
“Yeah, so what’s it to you?” His voice is terse with her. She huffs a bit, crossing her arms and analyzing you.
“So, what, we fuck steadily for a year, and you go get some young little girl to date now? Don’t want someone your own age, Fushiguro?”
Toji scowls, his dark brows low over his eyes, jaw tense. “Not that at all, just didn’t wanna date you.”
She gasps and you can’t stop your laughter, even when you try to sober up, earning more of her ire. “She’s like a teenager!?”
“I’m twenty one. See.” You hold up your wine glass, as people are starting to look at you all.
“You’re interrupting our date. Go on now.” Toji waves a hand dismissively, earning more of her anger, as she then takes your glass of wine and splashes it right in your face. You gasp at that, standing up then, chest to chest, as Toji stands up, furious, scowling.
“Excuse me, bitch? I didn’t do shit to you.” You shove at her with open palms, making her nearly topple backwards.
“Why don’t you go back to school and get someone your own age?” She bites out those words, and you raise a brow.
“I’m gonna give you a minute to leave before I fuck you up.” You ball up fists then, and she turns, scoffing.
“Stupid little whore-”
Well, you gave her a chance, yeah?
You grab her by her hair then, knocking her on the floor, and now the entire restaurant is in shock, watching as you straddle her in your pretty black dress, and you hold your hand up. “Drink, Toji.”
He chuckles, handing you his beer, and you smirk as you pour the entire amber contents of the pint on her face, and she sputters under you, a whole sloppy fucking mess now. She’s clinging to her face as you stand, laughing maniacally as her makeup drips down her face in streaks, and she opens her eyes only to shut them again, screaming.
Toji is chuckling right with you now, as she shakes some of the liquid off, scowling at you. “How dare you!”
“You spilled one on me first, so.”
“Immature little kid.”
“Says you, the woman who comes and starts shit with a man that didn’t wanna date her? He’s mine, got it?” You snatch him up by his arm, as he looks to you practically with hearts in his damn eyes.
“Miss, we must ask you to leave.” The manager comes then, and she screeches, pointing at you and stomping.
“But she did this to me!”
“Yes everyone saw you approach and throw a drink at her. You need to pay your bill and leave.” She is dragged away, and Toji pulls you to him, tilting your chin, but you shove at him.
“I’m mad at you, too.” You hiss through your teeth, and he scoffs, gripping your shoulders tightly.
“Excuse me, brat? Lemme just find you sexy right now….”
“Nope. Check please.”
*****
You two are both outside now, screaming at each other as Toji carries your little take home bag, as you get in the car he throws it at your lap. You shove it back in the passenger seat now, as you feel the adrenaline pumping, sure you’re furious at that bitch, who’s now flipping you off on the sidewalk, but you’re also upset that this is what happens on your date.
Toji was a hoe.
“Put on your fuckin seatbelt, now brat.” He orders, snapping it then, and you unsnap it, just for him to snap it again, and you to unsnap it, smacking at his hand. “The fuck are you mad at me for!?”
“Is that what I’ll deal with!? Your hoe life all over.”
“Look, I didn’t ask her to be a bitch. Put on this fuckin seatbelt, or I swear you won’t be able to sit.” You take a shaky breath, as both of your chests heave, and the energy in the car is so intense you can’t take it.
“Fine!” You let him snap it as he starts the car with a shaky hand.
“Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”
“Me!? Me!?”
“Yeah you, causing a whole scene with that temper, angry little elf.”
“Elf!”
“Hard of hearing?”
“Fuck off! I’m mad because you clearly had something serious enough she’s bothering me. She said you fucked her for a year.”
“And, so what, now I fuck you, get over it.”
“Aw, romantic.”
Toji’s eyes narrow as they set on you, as you two sit at a red light in the quiet night. “Who’s on a date, you or her, brat!?
You laugh, shaking your head. “Fuck you Toji.”
His laugh is harsh. “Fuck me, fuck me?”
“Yep. Fuck you.”
“You’re mad at me for what?”
“Being a manwhore!”
Toji’s forearms, visible in the evening, those veins wrapping around them turn you on far too much, as he grips that steering wheel so tightly, and you struggle to remember why you’re mad. “You knew it when you fucked me. And guess what? I’m good at fucking the shit out of your little pussy ain’t I?”
His words hit hard, and you feel it, right in your core, that deep husky voice and nasty words. “Pfft. Maybe.”
“You really talking shit like that, doll?”
“Sure am. How many more women will I meet?”
“Probably a lot. What’s it matter, I am with you, annoying little bitch.”
“And you’re such a hoe.”
“Means I eat pussy like a champ.” You gasp, smacking his hand as he grips your thigh.
“You ate her out, that makes me mad. So mad. Should have punched her.” Toji laughs now, only serving to make him more attractive and make you more angry, an infuriating mix.
“Doll, you were a baby when I fucked most of these women, couldn’t even legally touch you!? What, you wanted me to be some virgin? My kid is your friend, clearly I’ve been fucking a long time.”
“Ugh, whatever. Fuck you.” You cross your arms as he pulls up to his home, and he’s at your door in a flash, dragging you and shutting it with a loud thud as he’s pulling you further. When he’s inside he’s shoving you against the front door, hands on either side of you, and you see his vein pulsing in his jaw at how angry he is.
“Fuck me, huh brat?” I think I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He grabs your hair roughly now, pricking your eyes with tears, towering over you, and you find yourself strangely excited.
Is it strange?
Toji has always had this effect, when he’s mad at you and you get soaking wet, your cunt right now is just dripping, as you ache for him. You tilt your chin up then, narrowing your eyes, not remembering just why you were so mad at Toji, but now he’s got you on one.
“I have a right to be mad, old man.”
“No, you don’t, I clearly stopped everything since Spring break. I didn’t even look at anyone the whole time I was gone.” You blink back tears then, as he’s got his other hand gripping your waist so tight you can’t stand it, gripping the silk material of your dress, bunched in his hands.
“You really didn’t?” You whisper, and he sighs, lips just an inch away from yours now, and you can taste him, that taste that fucking kills you, as you both pant heavily, as he’s scowling at you.
“How could I see anyone but you, little fucking brat. You think I want anyone the fuck else?”
“She was all elegant, and pretty… and…” You’re sniffling now, as your insecurities hit you, and Toji sighs.
“Ain’t shit compared to you. Y’know how beautiful you fuckin are!? You know how sexy? How perfect your body is?” You tremble, as he turns you then, pressing you against the door face forward, unzipping your dress, baring your skin to his hungry gaze and his hot touch. “I’ll take you in a Hello Kitty bikini over any bitch.”
Fuck.
You’re being petty, stupid. You sigh, trying to calm down now, but he’s simultaneously putting you over the edge of how bad you want him. “T-Toji… M’sorry. I let it get to me. Am I just young, stupid!? I…” You gasp as he yanks your dress down, pulling it past your hips, and he moans softly, hands sliding down your every curve and line.
“You’re young, you’re stupid-”
You glare back at him. “Hey!”
He chuckles a bit. “But you’re beautiful. You’re mine. My little doll, don’t you fuckin know?” He kisses down your spine then, pressing hot trails of his lips as you step out of your dress, as he eases those heels off your feet.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t even know me…”
“I knew you, but you were barely twenty, off limits. Think I didn’t jack off to you then?”
“I’m dumb, fuck.”
“Mmm, you were a virgin. It’s all it is. But you’re not now, are you?” You shake your head, as he smacks your ass gently, one cheek than the other. “And when you threw her to the ground, lemme tell ya how hard ya got me?”
“I did?” He chuckles, kissing up your thighs now, fingers gripping into the plush flesh at the center, and his breath is hot, tickling you, you’re so shaky you can barely take it.
“Sure did, sexy as fuck.”
“Ah!” You scream out as Toji pulls your thong to the side and licks a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, lapping at the wetness already pooled there.
“And you, little bitch that you are, got this wet from making me angry? Was that the goal, get Toji mean with ya?”
Shit.
Your pussy did this maybe!?
“Did n-not. Fuck you.”
“Nah think I’ll fuck you.” He stands then, turning you and picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass so hard this time you cry out at the sting, as the fans whirl from his ceiling and cool air hits them. You gasp, up far too high.
“That hurts, you damn big brute! Caveman!”
“Ah, getting yourself even wetter? Slutty little brat.” Toji huffs, fingering you then as he holds you up over his shoulder, and you’re moaning, soaking his fingers, as he bites the fuck out of your hip, before tossing you on his bed, and you bounce at the impact, gasping.
“Toji, I am sorry. Daddy…” You crawl on your knees, just in your panties and bra now, and Toji is furious, veins in that thick neck bulging, his hands brutal when they push you down again, on your back, and he’s yanking your panties down your thighs, making you shiver with desire.
“No, you’re not just bad, you’re very fucking annoying and bad. You wanna drive me fuckin insane, then you get the consequenses, got it?”
“Daddy I said sorry.” You blink your lashes, and he hesitates, then shakes his head, putting your panties to his face and moaning, he’s so nasty but it makes you even wetter, and he clearly sees it pooling down.
“No, not getting out of this one, brat. I’m done with your attitude, it seems I gotta teach you manners. Your dad didn’t, let you run around and be such a little brat, all the time. Spoiled.”
“Toji…” You get this tiny amount of fear then, as Toji takes off his belt, and your cunt throbs around nothing as he flips you, and you feel something silky wrapping your wrists now. “Toji!”
“Hush this mouth before I gag you.” You whine pathetically now, as your tits are shoved out of the bra, bouncing out for his view as he circles you on the bed.
“I’m tired of your mouth. I only want you, annoying as fuck as you are. Got me, doll?” You nod, biting your lip as he bends down, tilting your chin up and kissing you, bruising in his kisses, and you melt into him, but then he’s smacking your cheek, making your face sting. “Answer me.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough, but it’s a start.” He pushes your head down into the mattress then, running his leather belt along the curve of your ass, and then he smacks the fuck out of you with that belt, so hard you scream. “One. How many do you think you deserve?”
“N-none, daddy.”
“Wrong answer doll. Let’s start with how many times you said ‘Fuck you Toji’ yeah?” He mocks your voice, and you’re whimpering, then he smacks you with the belt again, burning your skin, and then he slides a finger between your lips, pulling that wetness out, moaning softly. “And you like it, dirty lil slut f’me.”
“Ngh, Toji I’m really sorry.” You scream out as he smacks you again, fingering you rougher, two fingers, pressing up against your spot, past that tight ring of muscles, against your little gummy walls. Your pussy starts pouring out wetness now, slippery, loud in his room.
“So slutty. You’re not a good girl, are you?”
“I am.”
“Lying to me now. Hmm.” He hits you right across the backs of your thighs, hitting your sore little cunt, and it hurts so bad you’re crying into your pillow now, but your pussy is almost ready to cum, you’re so fucking ready. “Got something to say, brat?”
“F-fuck me, please.” He grips your hips now, pulling your ass up, cheeks apart, spitting down your little ass hole and dripping to your cunt.
“You deserve dick right now, you think so?”
“You want it, old man, stop- okay fuck!” Another smack, lower across your thighs, makes your knees buckle, and he’s pulling your ass back, holding you up, as you sob softly. “I’m sorry, s’sorry… T-Toji…”
“You remember that safe word?” He says softly, pulling your hair and bringing you to your knees, you nod quickly, as his breath tickles your ear.
“I remember it.”
“So you’re good, doll?” You hear it then, the concern, the care, making sure you’re okay even as he’s beating your ass.
“I’m not just good, I’m soaking wet, Daddy.” Your words earn his sexy moan, and he’s turning your face to him, gripping your breasts, squishing them in his hands and his thumbs pressing on your sensitive nipples. Your head falls back, ass arching for more and more of his rough touches.
Your pussy is so soaked when he wraps his arm around your hips, finding your clit, and you’re so wet his fingers slip. “Fuck, you’re stupid wet.”
“Fuck me, please.” You beg, as he’s pumping two fingers inside you, making the most lewd noise, and he pulls them out just before you cum, shoving them in your mouth so deep you almost choke.
“You’re not done yet, you’ve pissed me off so fuckin much. Ya think that was enough hits?”
“I do!”
“And now you beg for dick, pathetic f’me, so fucking slutty.”
“Ugh, fuck you- shit, shit sorry!” Toji’s big hand now smacks the fuck out of you, so hard you’re rocked forward, and you look back with tears in your eyes, and he’s furious now.
“So you’re still running the mouth, gotta fix that.” He shoves your head back down, and then he’s shoved three fingers in your little entrance, stretching you too full, and you’re wriggling every which way.
“T’much!” You whimper the words, muffled by the pillow, and Toji bends low now, tongue on the little unused hole, as he keeps working your cunt. The sensations are too much, there’s so much pressure building you think you’ll explode, your eyes rolling back, thighs shaking.
“Always running this mouth, huh? Do you think you’ll get to cum?” He yanks his fingers out then, and you scream out in pain, empty and pulsing, so close it hurts. “Aw, were ya close, brat?”
“S’sorry…”
“Nah, that’s not a good apology.” Toji slides two fingers in your cunt again, only to shove them up into your ass, and now the stretch nearly breaks you, as his other hand slides down, rubbing your clit, overstimulating and teasing. “Maybe I’ll break you the fuck in, huh?”
“Ngh…” You can’t say a damn thing, you’re drowning in pleasure, in need, as you’re about to cum again, and you’re sobbing hot sticky tears when he stops toying with you completely, when he’s spitting on you again, spreading his hot saliva all over your pussy and ass. “Please…”
“Please what, slutty fuckin brat? Use those words. Or already stupid from my fingers?”
The more he degrades you, the hornier and wetter you are, as his thumb pumps in your ass again. “Fuck me there.”
Toji pauses then, and for a moment it’s silent, then he’s getting undressed behind you, his tip rubbing against your slit, grinding on your clit, between your puffy lips, moaning as he feels how wet you are. Your arms are aching as you can barely breathe, so shoved against the blanket you are feeling so hot everywhere, almost weak.
“So slutty ya need me in all your holes, huh?” He whispers, now sliding his cock up, his thick, reddened tip dripping precum as it rubs your little hole, pressing in and making you hiss at it.
“Slutty for you, Daddy.” He moans then, one hand at the base of his cock, the other gripping your hip, pressing his thumb in the dimple of your back, pressing further, and then you feel him, the thickness inside, so intense you’re shaking violently. He’s gentle for all his talk, for how he usually fucks your pussy, just barely moving, and just that has you a mess.
“Fuck you feel so good, doll. Fuck… are you all right?” He asks, and you smile against the pillow, at how sweet he can be even when he’s literally fucking your ass, which is covered in red whelps.
“It feels good, alot though… can you untie me, please?” He quickly does as you ask, and you move your numb fingers, up on your hands and knees now, and he’s running one hand up your rib cage, wrapping your waist and bending over you, his lips against your ear. “Daddy… it’s s’good.”
“You like it, doll, huh? Want me deeper in that tight little ass?” His husky voice kills you, as he pulls back, and you nod eagerly. “Then what do we say?”
“Please, Daddy. Please- ah!” He shoves in deeper, his hand brutal as it grabs your entire body damn near, as the other braces itself on the bed over you. Your own hands cling to his thick cotton blankets, arching your ass up for more, every inch feels like ten, so good you can’t stand it, eyes rolling back, your toes curling against the bed as he fucks you slowly.
“Oh my fucking… fuck, fuck…” He’s cursing, not moving, moaning and breathing in your ear, making you shiver as your cunt throbs around nothing. “Can’t hold back, can you take it, baby doll?”
“I’ll try, Daddy.” He moans at that again, then he’s shoved in so deep it rips you in fucking half, and you’re screaming, as he’s huffing, his huge cock sliding in and out of your tight hole, his balls smacking your neglected entrance. “Ah, ah, ah!”
“Feel so fuckin good, Ma.” Toji bottoms out, before leaning you forward, on your stomach, bracing himself over you, one hand sliding down your spine, dripping with sweat now. He smacks your ass, bringing your hips up, and starts fucking into you, skin of his pelvis smacking your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust. “Rub that clit, pretty doll.”
“Y-yes Daddy.” You earn his satisfied sigh, as he pulls your hips up more, you’re on your knees, rubbing your clit in circles with your tiny fingers, and one of his hands finds your cunt, filling your pussy with two fingers. It’s so much, too much, your clit, pussy and ass so filled you can’t think anymore.
Your hands join each other, and you’re gushing out, as Toji’s thrusts slow, and he’s rolling his hips, hitting some spot that makes your tummy coil with tension. “You’re doing good, doll, s’good for your daddy, huh?”
“Please… can I cum? Please. I’ll be good.” He laughs softly, slamming his length in you hard, fingering you deeper, until your cunt and mouth are drooling, pools of arousal and saliva, and you’re blinded.
“Cum f’me, doll, let me feel this slutty ass around my cock.” Toji presses in so deep you can’t see, crooking those fingers, and yours slip off as you begin to cum, so hard and so much pressure, your little hole begins to squirt all over Toji’s hands, and you can’t even speak, can’t do anything as it sprays all over the bed. “Oh my god… fuck…”
“S-sorry!? Sorry! S-sorry….” You’re chanting as you keep cumming, and he groans, pausing his movements, to pull his hand back staring at the sticky mess with wonder.
“Sorry, fuck no. You’re such a good girl, squirting f’me.” You blink a bit, as you try to come to, and he’s pulled out of you, making you hiss, so damn sore, as he flips you on your back, rubbing your clit side to side.
“Too sensitive, too much… too wet…”
“Oh, doll, fuck no, Imma need you to do it again, gonna drink it.” He says, husky, dragging your hips and spreading your thighs, and you’re yanking at his silky black hair, and he’s lapping at your clit, three fingers back stretching your cunt, and you’re close again. He hums on your clit, and your hips buck up off the bed, and you’re gushing all over again.
“F-f-fuck, ah!” You’re screaming out as Toji drinks you up, you’re spraying so much wetness out, it’s all over his chin, his face, as he grins, long tongue lapping what he can as you make a wet spot in the bed.
“That’s it, that’s my lil slut.” He’s smacking loud kisses on your cunt, leaning up now, shoving your thighs up high, your knees on either side of you, pressing into the mattress, folding you in fucking half. “Imma put a baby in you now.”
“Toji…” He chuckles, smacking your cheek and shaking his head. “Daddy…”
“Mmm, you ready to take it? She sure made a fuckin mess, didn’t she?” He shoves in your cunt now, and it immediately tightens, so sensitive from how hard you had cum you can’t stand it, falling apart with every thick thrust of his veiny cock, as his swollen tip is rubbing right against your spot.
“Too much, too much! Too much!” You’re a mess, writhing and shattering under him, under his heavy weight, pressing down on your thighs with his brutal hands, as his cock bullies your cervix, and you can’t take anymore, damn near blacking out.
“You tryna pass out, brat? Tap out?” He huffs, as you try to keep your eyes open, as your mouth is slack and open, as you’re pushed over some edge. He fucks you so deep you feel him everywhere, as you see black glittery stars, and he’s cupping your face possessively. “Look at me, doll.”
You gaze at him with dilated, cock drunk eyes, narrowing, your lashes shaqdowing your view, as you struggle to breathe, brows drawing together, cheeks flushed, and he studies you with heated dark eyes, shoving in so deep then. He rolls his hips and the tip is just grinding against your cervix, pushing you again, and you’re so weak you can barely moan.
You cling to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders, scratching him hard as you cling to him to tether you, but he’s the one pushing you further and further, as he works you, as he’s heaving his own breaths. His chest contains that heart that thuds erratically now, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently as his cock presses and stretches you till you’ll break.
“That’s it doll, lemme feel ya around me, can’t fuckin think can you? I fuck you stupid?” You would say ‘fuck you Toji’ but you can’t do anything, he has to swipe your drool off your face then, sticking his thumb between your lips, for you to weakly bite, and he bites out in laughter. “Fucked the brat out of ya.”
You wish you could say something smart, but he’s got you so weak, it’s too much, the pressure, the stretch, his sweat dripping down on you, you just weakly cry out, and now he’s leaned back slightly, putting his weight on your sore thighs. His balls smack the little hole he’d wrecked, as he fills your pussy, and his pelvis smaches against an overstimulated clit.
“Ready for this baby in ya, huh doll? Fill ya so good with me.” He cooes those words out, and all you can do is nod just a bit, gasping, head sinking into the bed as your hips buck up at how deep he gets. “Say it, say it doll.’
“W-want… your babies… Daddy…” You speak in a breathy whisper, hearing that gutteral groan as his rhythm stutters, as your walls convulse around him, and you’re gulping for air, as if he’s choking you, your sore ass fucked deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it throb and ache.
“Take all this cum, be my good girl, yeah?” You nod weakly, then he’s leaned over you, shoving in and his tip is quivering, pulsing, as hot spurts of cum fill you, and she eagerly drinks them in, like she wants it, wants it as bad as you won’t admit. Toji’s kissing you, hot and messy, moaning his pleasure into your lips, his scar brushing against the corner of your mouth.
You’re crying now, tears down your face, as he finishes pumping so much cum, and you’re clinging to him, as he’s tasting your salty tears. He keeps kissing you, long after he’s cum, as your fluids are dripping down the bed under you, and he leans up then, eyes different, they’re softer, his lips are rested, parting as he rubs your face so sweetly.
“I fuckin love, you, little doll.” He murmurs, and you sob more, kissing him and sinking your hands into his hair.
“L-love you. Love you Toji. Fuck. I’m a mess.” You say weakly, and he chuckles a bit, pulling off you, making you suck in a breath as he pulls out, leaving you empty.
“You’re a beautiful fucking mess, so, so messy too.” He fingers the sticky cum between your lips, making you jerk and cry out. “Didn’t know you could squirt, freaky lil slut aren’t ya?”
“I didn’t know either. Fuck it was too much though. I’m done.” You weakly fall back, and Toji sits you up carefully, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Lemme get you cleaned up, want a shower doll?” He asks softly, caressing your back, brushing up and down, and you exhale, shutting your eyes and sinking against him.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll take care of ya.” He picks you up with ease, as you weakly let him carry you. “I love taking care of you after I ruin that little mind of yours.”
“Dick.” He snorts, and you can’t summon the energy to glare, you just let him bring you inside his shower, surprisingly gorgeous, with marble tiles, and a waterfall shower head. “This is s’nice.”
“Built it.”
“Built it?” You yawn, blinking bleary eyed as he washes your hair, his rough hands gently, massaging your scalp, as the hot water pours over you both, and the steam rises in the shower.
“Yeah, I built most of this place. Was bare bones.”
“Mmm, my manly man.” He snorts, and soon he’s rinsing your hair, sudsing your body up.
“You’re so pathetic f’me, little doll, can’t stand?”
“Fuck no.” He’s chuckling, holding you gently, and you think that the moment can’t get much better, being in his arms, feeling his heartbeat thud in his chest, so soothing you almost fall asleep then and there. Only to be wrapped in his big, strong arms all night in his bed.
*****
Fuck you feel sick, you sit up as you awaken, and Toji’s sheets are rumpled, your nipples are killing you, more than they have been, and you peer between your thighs, worried you’re on your period. You’re thankfully not, standing now, smelling breakfast Toji is cooking, which should be yummy, tantalizing, but another wave of nausea rolls through you.
You only had one glass of wine!?
You blink at the sun streaming through the windows of Toji’s cozy cabin, standing on wobbly legs, he’d fucked you so good you can barely walk even now, your ass is so goddamn sore from his belt, and his cock it’s ridiculous. You wonder how you’re going to manage to sit even.
You pad barefooted on old wooden floors, seeing Toji’s sexy, strong back now, and you can’t even appreciate it, because your tummy is rumbling and hurts. You bite back it, trying to suck in a breath, and Toji looks back, grinning deviously, dark green eyes drinking you in.
“Sit down and eat, doll. Let daddy cook for ya.”
You can’t even snort, you can’t do anything but cover your mouth, and he then looks concerned, brows lowering, and you run off to his bathroom, throwing up everything you’d digested last night. You’re sobbing as you do, and Toji is there, freaking out.
“Well shit, the fuck!? You okay!?” He’s pulling your hair, trying to be gentle but he’s such a damn brute it yanks your hair.
“Ow- fuck!” 
“Shit, my bad. Here.” He’s yanking one of your pony tails off the sink, putting your hair up in a bun then, rubbing his hand on your back as you flush the toilet. “Was it something you ate?”
“No, I don’t think?”
“The wine?”
“One glass, no. Shit am I sick? I…”
You trail off then, and do some math in your damn head, then you gasp, falling back on the tile floor. “Doll, want some water?”
“Fuck no. No, no, no. Shit!” You’re trembling, hugging your knocking knees then, eyes wide in horror as you look at Toji.
“What the fuck is it?”
“You… I… oh my god.”
“What!?”
“You asshole!” You haul off and smack him then, earning his glare, snatching your wrist and shoving you against the wall, pinning you there.
“Me, I didn’t do shit, don’t smack me little fuckin bitch. Explain yourself, what the fuck is…” He trails off then, and brushes your nipple, making you scream out. “Fuck… shit… you’re sensitive, I noticed, and they’re even…”
“Oh my god.”
“Shit. Are you…” He looks up at you carefully, as you struggle to fight another wave of nausea, then he presses on your flat tummy, as you come to the most scary fucking thing you’ve ever though of. “Are you pregnant!?”
Shit.
A/N enjoy the cliffie *evil laughing* ahahahah
Chapter 11
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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS
WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.
Chapter 16/20
Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum
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The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.
“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”
“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”
You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”
“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.
Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”
“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”
You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.
“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.
“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.
Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”
“Water?”
“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”
“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.
“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”
Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”
You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”
Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash. 
“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.
The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.
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It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.
“Daddy, I gotta pee!”
You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.
“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”
“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”
“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”
Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them. 
The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris. 
Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”
Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.” 
“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile. 
Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way. 
“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”
Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”
You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence. 
Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly. 
Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day. 
You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth. 
Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”
“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”
You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”
You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him. 
“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”
“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.
Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later. 
“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips. 
“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants. 
“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more. 
“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly. 
Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle. 
The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone. 
“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.” 
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You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.
Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair. 
“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”
The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.
Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.
“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.
 “Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.
Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone. 
“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together. 
“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”
You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend. 
“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”
The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”
Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits. 
“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.
The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy. 
“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad. 
Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”
“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”
“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”
Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”
Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.
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The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.
“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.
Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.
He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.
His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.
Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.
“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.
”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”
“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.
To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.  
You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other. 
She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.
“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”
Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”
You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.” 
“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”
She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.
“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground. 
Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”
“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”
He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”
Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance. 
“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”
“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough. 
Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”
You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”
“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently. 
His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Do you love my daddy?”
You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”
Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”
“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”
He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”
You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly. 
“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly. 
This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?
“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.
Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.
To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.
Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.
“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”
You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”
His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”
“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.
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It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable. 
You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.
He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder. 
“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–” 
“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.
Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.
He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.
“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.
You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.
Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.
Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.
“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel. 
“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”
The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores. 
“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”
You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill. 
“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”
“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop. 
He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed. 
“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway. 
He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”
You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips. 
“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”
The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.
“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”
“Yes, dear.”
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You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.
Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”
He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”
The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.
“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”
“What?”
“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”
“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”
The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.
“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”
“I know!”
“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”
“I know!”
“--the whole time. Got it?”
“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”
Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together. 
You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your  ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help. 
Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.
“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.
“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”
Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson. 
“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.
To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”
Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”
“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today. 
“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”
“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects. 
“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around. 
You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.
“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”
“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”
“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”
“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”
The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”
“Mhm.”
She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”
Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for. 
The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you. 
“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found.  “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”
Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”
“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize. 
You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”
Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.
“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him. 
“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.
“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”
Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”
Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”
The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you. 
You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.
“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.
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You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.
“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows. 
“Going home.”
He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”
“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”
“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”
He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.
The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”
A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it. 
He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.
You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.
“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.
“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation. 
“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly. 
He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.
Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent. 
When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do. 
He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly. 
He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise. 
“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments. 
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The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough. 
That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in. 
Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week. 
Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?
Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger. 
And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears. 
The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods. 
Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth. 
You’re almost a full week late. 
--
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youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months ago
Text
Pay Attention
Synopsis: The 3 times everyone else knew you and Lando were in love with each other, and the 1 time you two actually admitted it
female driver reader x lando norris
A/N: for this one, reader is 22 and drives for mercedes with george. also, most of the story is told from lando’s pov because this originally started off as an entirely different 3+1 fic, and I don’t have the energy to fix it. and obviously, things like race results, driver lineups, ect will be changed to better fit the story
1-
Lando Norris knows Formula 1 is unpredictable. He knows you can’t tell what will happen during a race, nonetheless a season. But no matter how unpredictable the sport is, this was the most surprising part by far.
It’s barely been 10 years, but Lando feels like he’s known you forever. You two first met at the Karting World Championship in 2014, a race you were teammates with both him and Zhou Guanyu in. Even though he beat you to first place, your 14-year-old-self didn’t let that stop you from becoming best friends with him.
It was hard to keep track of each other when the two of you were traveling all over Europe to compete in different series, so Lando almost thought he’d never get to see you again. Until in 2020, when he heard talks of the most successful female driver yet making her way through the ranks.
Since you were announced as apart of the Mercedes driver line up in the beginning of 2022, you two have been attached at the hip. You both lived in Monaco and whenever you weren’t busy with media or team duties, you were together. Traveling, in the paddock, celebrating races; if you were there, so was Lando.
Fans were used to that fact and they usually expected it off the track, but not for races and track battles, so everyone was a bit surprised when you two placed P3 and P4 in Bahrain.
It was Round 1 of the 2023 season and even though everyone knows your results at Bahrain don’t dictate your entire season, Lando was still excited you were on the podium. He had qualified P6 behind George and yourself in P5 and P4, and with both Fernando’s Aston Martin and both Red Bulls in front of you, you weren’t expected to make it on the top steps.
Though after a few badly timed pit stops, Lando ended the race in P4, 5 seconds behind you in P3. Cheers rung out from around the grandstands as both the Mercedes and McLaren cars crossed the finish line. Your team garages were ecstatic, climbing the fence to meet you at the checkered flag and shouting congratulations through the radio.
Lando watched from behind as you steered your car into perc ferme alongside Max and Sergio and climbed out to celebrate with your team. It wasn’t P1, but it was a huge achievement to place so high so early in the season and it was obvious how proud everyone was of you.
He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.
He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.
“You did amazing! I’m so proud of you” He says, the words muffled through your helmets.
“Thanks, I wish you were gonna be up there with me, you deserve it” you say, looking up to the podium.
Lando smiles and he’s suddenly grateful his helmet is there to hide his blush. “Thanks. Don’t worry though, soon enough we’ll be up there with a 1-2”
“With me P1, I assume?”
Your eyes are playful underneath your helmet, and he laughs. “Yeah, we’ll see. Go celebrate with your team, Y/n. Don’t ditch me for the after party though!” He shouts as you walk over to your post-race interview, starting to laugh.
“I’d never ditch you!” You shout back over your shoulder, your helmet and balaclava coming off to reveal your grin.
Lando leaves to get weighed and meet his team back in the McLaren garage, keeping his head gear on because of the stupid smile he’s all too aware is still on his face. He was supposed to go to the media pen to finish up some race interviews before sitting down for the debrief with McLaren, but you were his best friend; he couldn’t miss your first podium of the season.
Lando, still clad in his orange race suit, arrives just as Max’s national anthem is playing. He probably should be paying at least a bit of attention to the winner, he’s one of Lando’s best mates after all, but then he saw you, grinning on the third step under the many bright lights of the street circuit, and he couldn’t look away.
He watched with his own smile as you opened your bottle of champagne and poured the majority of it on the Red Bull drivers, before downing the rest of it yourself. He’d wait until you came back to street level, where he’d be waiting for another hug and feeling the sticky champagne and bright grin against his neck.
You’d start talking about the race, the moments where you didn’t think you’d make it to the podium and how happy you’d be if you could get another one. You’ll ask about his race and tell him that next weekend, he’d better be up there beside you, no matter what.
And Lando will be next to you, like he always is, smiling and hanging on to every word you say because you’re happy, so he’s happy too.
What Lando would not realize is that each moment, from when he hugged you after you got out of your car to just then when you were walking through the paddock together, had been caught by multiple people, each one thinking the one thing you two had not yet realized.
“They’re so in love with each other”
2-
Lando Norris did not hate the Miami Grand Prix, at least not usually. But this time around, F1’s 2023 stop in Florida is one he could’ve gladly missed.
It was a double header weekend, and after coming off an extremely mediocre P9 finish in Azerbaijan, Lando was less than excited to spend 4 days in the hot sun in an even more mediocre car. There were so many unnecessary media obligations to go with the flashiness of Miami, and by Friday evening he was already looking forward to the flight back home.
The one thing that did brighten his day was you, who he also had dinner plans with after FP2. He let you distract him with whichever details about your life you had neglected to tell him before, let you get him excited for Sunday’s race again, and let you put him in a better mood.
You two were walking from the restaurant to Lando’s car, still talking and laughing as usual, when Lando asked to you come by his hotel after qualifying the next day.
“If both our qualifying are shit, we can get ice cream and mope together,” he posed jokingly, “and if it goes great, we can celebrate together as well”
But then you stop laughing and your tone changes. “Oh, sorry Lando, but I’m going out with Logan after qualifying; he’s gonna show me around Miami a bit. I’m sure he won’t mind if you come though? Do you want to?”
He pauses; Logan? “No it’s fine. I should probably be relaxing after tomorrow anyways, I think the heat’s getting to me a bit. You two have fun, though” He assures you, keeping a light-hearted tone to mask his distaste. 
Logan?
Lando didn’t have anything against Logan, he thought he was a nice guy with a lot of potential. But now he’s taking his best friend away from him and for what reason? You can see Miami any day, any time you want, and if you wanted to, you certainly didn’t need him as your guide.
But fine. Lando does not own you, you’re perfectly allowed to have your own friends, and if you wanted to have an evening out with Logan Sargeant, it was perfectly okay with Lando.
The Brit drove you back to your hotel before setting off to his own, and while you were his best friend and of course, delightful company, he couldn’t help but dwell on the sour taste left in his mouth. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much.
By the time Lando was back in his room, he was too tired to figure it why and decided it was a problem for Future Lando.
He woke up Saturday morning completely forgetting about the events of last night and instead focused on getting the best results possible today. He met up with his trainer for breakfast, left for the track, and joined his PR officer in the McLaren garage. She was escorting Lando to the media pen when he suddenly slowed.
“Lando? What’s wrong?” The woman took note of his tense figure, his hard-set eyes.
All because you were walking away from the media pen with Logan at your side, laughing and looking way too happy for his liking.
He felt the sourness this time. He felt it rise throughout his body and spread like wild fire. His only question was why.
Why were you laughing so much? Why did he feel this way? Why couldn’t he let any of this go? Why were you with Logan and not with him?
“Nothing,” the McLaren drives says. “let’s go” Lando never usually hurries to the media pen, but he didn’t want to look at you and Mr. American boy-next-door any longer.
He was asked questions and he gave answers, Lando just couldn’t tell you what any of them were. This was the problem Past Lando had left for him, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
He ruled out anger; he didn’t feel mad, per se, more frustrated than angry. He wasn’t upset; he certainly didn’t feel sad. Possessiveness? He wasn’t usually possessive over his friends though, and you two weren’t dating or anything like that, so there was no real reason to feel protective. Still, Lando couldn’t shake the sourness, and was once again left without answers about you and his feelings.
It wasn’t hard to miss the Brit’s change in attitude, and it wasn’t something his friends were going to ignore.
“Are you okay, mate?” Carlos says, walking alongside him through the paddock after FP3. “You’ve been quiet all day”
“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just tired, I guess” Lando shrugs, not sure if he should tell the Ferrari driver.
“C’mon, you’re seriously not gonna tell me? It’ll make you feel better, trust me” Carlos pushed, and he hesitated before answering.
“I don’t know. I barely know what’s wrong myself” Carlos gives him a look, and he sighs before continuing.
“It’s just weird with Y/n lately. I don’t know but the entire weekend’s just been weird”
“Why? Because she’s hanging out with Logan?”
“How did you-”
“Lando, it’s not that hard to notice, and it’s not that hard to notice why you don’t like it” The Spaniard nudges him, looking at him with a mischievious glint in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“You like Y/n, so you don’t like her hanging around with Logan” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“What’re you talking about? I don’t like Y/n, she’s my best friend, that’s ridiculous” Lando makes a face. That makes no sense, of course I don’t have feelings for Y/n.
“Yeah, and the Haas is going to win tomorrow. Lando, I told you, you can trust me. Just admit it, cabrón”
“Admit what? I don’t like her, I told you that” Lando insists, because he doesn’t. There’s no way.
“Okay mate, whatever you say” Carlos says, putting his hands up in surrender and moving towards the Ferrari garage. “Let me know how that ‘not liking my best friend thing goes’”
Lando just shakes his head and sighs. Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about.
Qualifying turns out to be the thing Lando needs to get his mind off everything; he qualifies P6 with Oscar right behind him and confidence in his car for tomorrow. The man spends some extra time going over the data from today with the strategists and leaves the track just after sunset to head back to his hotel.
He wasn’t completely lying to you yesterday night; the heat was having a bit of an effect on him, and it was probably a good idea to relax and stay in for the night. He ordered something from room service that his trainer would approve of and took a shower before climbing into bed.
A knock on his door is the thing that stops Lando from falling asleep.
It’s past 10, no one should be knocking at his door, but that’s not good enough of a reason to ignore the person, so he gets up to answer it and should probably be more surprised that’s it you.
“Not here to collect team secrets for tomorrow, are you?” Lando questions, jokingly.
“I don’t think we need anymore help beating you McLarens, thank you” You play along with a laugh.
“I’m offended. I hope you have an apology along to go with whatever that it” He gestures to the bag in your hands, and you nod.
“I do, but you’ll have to let me in first to get either” Your best friend moves aside to let you into his room and onto his couch.
“Seriously though, what’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just felt bad for ditching you today and figured I could make up for it with ice cream” You shrugged, opening up the bag and holding a container covered in frost.
“I appreciate the gesture Y/n, but we both know our trainers-” You cut him off. “Would kill us if we eat this, I know. That’s why I only bought one, so we could just share and have half. That way it’s not really eating an ice cream sundae, it’s just eating a scoop and a half”
“I like your thinking”
“That’s why you keep me around” You both smile, and Lando gets up to get two spoons.
“You don’t have to be sorry, by the way. It doesn’t bother me that you went out with Logan” He knows you must’ve felt really guilty, because you’re still wearing the clothes you wore in the paddock, meaning you went immediately from wherever Logan took you to straight to get the ice cream and come here, despite the fact you should be in bed and it would be chaos if someone found out you were here this late Saturday night.
He also knows you wouldn’t do this for just anyone.
“I know. I still felt bad though” You shrug, thanking him before taking a spoonful of ice cream.
“Don’t be. Where’d he take you, anyway?” Lando questions. He knows that if he was talking about this any time else, he feel that sourness all over again. But there was no reason to if you were right here beside him.
“Nowhere special; we just walked around, shopped a bit, and stopped to get some food before we realized we should probably head back to our hotels”
“And aren’t you having the same realization now?” He asks, taking another spoon of ice cream.
“Yeah, but I’m not worried enough to the point where I’m actually gonna do it” You explain, and Lando laughs.
“So what? I’m stuck with you for the rest of the night then?”
“You say it like you don’t totally love the idea” You smile playfully.
“You’re right, I’d rather you here with me than anywhere else”
“Me too” The man misses your soft gaze and love-sick smile.
Truthfully, Lando just likes when you’re with him in general.
3-
It was the Austria GP and for the first time in a while, Lando Norris felt a little carefree. He had over two weeks to recover from Canada, the next round was his home race, and things were looking positive for Sunday. He was happy with racing, and he was happy with you too.
Ever since Miami, you two have been closer than usual; fans were used to seeing you guys always together, but this time, they really never saw you without seeing Lando, and Lando without seeing you. Both of you seemed oddly smiley recently and it didn’t go without notice. Even more than usual, it was like you and Lando were in your own weird little obliviously-in-love bubble that nothing could break through.
Maybe that was why you and Lando finished P4 and P5, each of you one place away from a repeat of Bahrain. It obviously wasn’t your best finishes you two have ever had, but it was good enough for there to be a celebration afterwards. The drivers you and Lando were closest to also finished high in the points, and before you knew it, you had agreed to attending the after-party happening in a few hours at the nearest club.
You put on some makeup, fixed your hair, changed into a beautiful outfit, and stuffed your purse with your essentials before you got a text from Lando telling you that he was outside. You insisted that you could drive yourself and he didn’t need to pick you up, but Lando persisted, saying that it was stupid to bring two cars incase you weren’t fit to drive at the end of the night, and had to leave your very expensive car on the street all night.
“You look gorgeous, it almost makes up for the ridiculous amount of time I’ve spent waiting here for you” Lando says with a smirk as you open the door to his car.
You roll your eyes through your blush. “It wasn’t that long. Besides, my room’s on a high floor, it was the elevator’s fault.” You reason, clicking your seatbelt into place before Lando pulls out of the hotel parking lot and onto the streets.
“Yeah sure, blame the machinery because it’s never your fault you’re late”
“It’s not!” You insist with a laugh. He hums sarcastically in response, turning on the radio and letting it fill the comfortable silence
The streets in front of the club are lined with dozens of high-end cars, so you and Lando are forced to park nearly a block away from the entrance. The bouncer lets the two of you in without hesitation, and even from outside, you can hear the bass from the speakers inside.
The interior is exactly how you expected it to be, colorful strobe lights from overhead, music that you have to shout to hear someone over, and a dance floor that’s packed to the brim with celebrities, drivers, and everyone in between.
You and Lando claim the nearest booth to the exit, and he leans in close enough to be audible. “I’m going to get us a few drinks, try and see if you can find a few people” You nod, and the two of you go off in different directions.
You manage to locate Alex, Lily, George, and Carmen in a booth together and after a few very loud greetings, manage your way through the mob again to find Lando and lead him back to your friends. You all start talking and laughing, placing bets on which drivers are going home with a mystery girl, which ones are going to get black-out drunk, and which ones are going to show off their embarrassingly bad drunk dance moves in front of everyone.
Drinks and shots get handed out, a few more drivers join your table, and soon enough, you and your group are somewhere between tipsy and drunk and are moving onto the already-packed dance floor. Lando moved up to the DJ, telling you he’d be back to dance soon, and left you with your fellow drivers and their girlfriends.
You spend a few hours dancing with the girls, giggling through your drinks, and wandering around the club in search for more friends. At the point where your vision starts to got a bit blurry and the music is making your head hurt, you feel a hand on your shoulder and a familiar voice in your ear.
“Hey stranger!” Lando shouts, turning you around to face him.
“Lando!” You call out loudly, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “Missed you” Alcohol made you a bit affectionate.
“Only been gone an hour and a half, love” Even though you can’t see his face and you’re not at your sharpest, you know he’s got a dumb smirk on his face.
“Missed you too, though” He says, taking the drink out of your hand and taking a sip before wrapping his hands around your waist.
“Are you here to dance with me?” You pull back, looking into his eyes. His pupils aren’t dilated, so you know he’s sober and the designated driver for the night.
“Wouldn’t want to do anything else” Even though everyone else around you is dancing at a fast, eager pace, you and Lando keep your arms wrapped around each other, bodies swaying softly, heads laying on each other’s shoulders.
Even with the flashing lights and booming music, you probably could’ve drowsed off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realize how much time has passed but at some point, Lando taps your arm and pulls away from you.
“Time to go home, I think” He says, placing his hands on your shoulders to get you to focus on him.
“You think?” You reply, both drowsy and a little drunk.
“I think so. I’m gonna see if anyone else needs a ride and say goodbye, then we’ll leave, okay?” Lando tells you, intertwining your hands together before leading you further onto the dancefloor.
The Brit finds the other drivers and does what he said before handing you your purse and guiding you out of the club, hands still held together. Your best friend hands you his jacket to wear and places his arm around your waist as the two of you walk back to the car.
You know that Lando will get you back to your hotel and to your room where he’ll take your heels off for you. You know he’ll place a glass of water and a few Aspirins’ on a nightstand for you and lay down underneath the duvet with you because he’s too tired to drive back to his own hotel.
You’ll know you two will fall asleep almost immediately, and wake up closer than you were laying last night. You know Lando will not mind doing any of this, will actually like it, because you don’t let him take care of you as much as he’d like.
You know all of these things and a lot of other stuff too, you just don’t know that the person you did it all with is the person you’re in love with, or that he’s in love with you too.
+ 1
Lando always appreciated the summer break after half a season of racing, but there was something special about this one that made him wish it would never end.
You, Lando, and a group of your mutual friends planned a week-long trip to an island in the Caribbean as ‘one last hurrah’ before you two had to fly to Zandervort for the second half of the season. It was your fourth day on the island, and even though every moment since you arrived has been filled with some sort of fun and exciting adventure, this was already your favorite day of the trip.
You and Lando had connecting rooms, ‘a complete coincidence’ as your friends had put it, and this morning, you two decided to take advantage of it and make breakfast together. You weren’t supposed to meet with the others until a few more hours, and you loved cooking with Lando, so shortly after you woke up you made the short journey into his room.
“Morning,” your best friend greeted you, clad in black sweats and an old T-shirt you’ve seen millions of times. “I bought pancake mix from the store in the lobby, but we can run out and get something else if you like?”
“No, it’s okay,” you insist, “pancakes are fine. Besides, I know you make the best ones.”
“I know, you must be so jealous” Lando smirks, grabbing a mixing bowl and pan from the hotel’s kitchenette cabinet.
“Totally. So what’s on our agenda today?” You say, moving around him to take ingredients from the fridge.
“Not much, actually. I think we’re just going to the beach and walk around the town a bit” You nod as you grab your phone and click on the shared playlist between yourself and Lando.
You let the music fill the comfortable silence as the two of you move around the small kitchen. It’s a beautiful and all-too domestic scene; the morning sun streaming through the windows, the soft music in the background, the way you both seamlessly know your way around the kitchen, how easy it was to work around each other. They’re the facts your mind notices too quickly, and it’s hard to stop your brain from thinking about a future where things could be like this everyday.
Within a few minutes, you each had a reasonably-sized stack of pancakes that you brought outside onto the balcony with you. You settle into the adjacent chairs that look out to the waves crashing onto the beach and deep blue ocean. It’s still early; this part of the island isn’t awake yet, and it’s easy to relax in the still quiet.
While you shooed away the image of the future like this, Lando welcomed it with open arms. He thought how effortless it would be to make a scene like this; a hotel room, an apartment in Monaco, a house in the UK, Lando would take either and all of them. As long as you came with it.
His mouth speaking before his brain can control it. “I wish it was like this forever” He blurts out.
“You don’t want to go back to racing?” You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t look back at you, keeps his eyes on the view in front of him instead.
“No, I do. I mean-” Lando pauses, thinks it over. He gets up from his chair to lean on the railing, his back facing you. This could ruin everything, he thinks. If he says it, he can’t go back, and nothing will be the same again.
He stops thinking.
“I mean with you. I honestly don’t care where we are; racing, on an island, whatever. We could be on another planet for all I care. As long as it’s just you and me, I think I could handle it” He finishes, feeling your presence next to him a few moments later, your shoulders brushing.
“Really?” You ask, eyes widened. You would’ve never thought he felt the same.
“Really. I’ve always felt that way” Then he’s looking you in that way, the way everyone’s been trying to explain to you for a while.
You don’t second-guess yourself when you put your hands around his face and press your lips onto his, and especially not when he starts moving his lips against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, and you don’t think you’d be mad if this was your forever.
You two finally pull away from each other, and even though the waves on the beach are still the same waves and the ocean is still the same deep blue, you think that everything changed just a little bit.
You’re still so close you could probably count his eyelashes if you wanted to, and you smile.
“I love you”
His smile mirrors yours the second after he hears it. “I love you too”
You two don’t really have to tell people; everyone figures it out within the first five minutes of being around both of you. Everyone teases you relentlessly, but internally, they’re just glad the two of you finally saw what’s been there all along.
i never really know how to end these. anyways, a lando fic to make up for the time i’ve been gone. sorry about that btw, i got major imposter syndrome and the lack of f1 content makes for a lack of motivation. this is also my first ln4 fic, and i have no idea what to expect from it. hope u enjoyed tho 🫶
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bigification · 6 months ago
Text
Corporate
John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.
He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.
Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.
But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.
Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.
John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.
One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.
He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.
He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.
He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.
"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.
"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.
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"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.
"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."
"What's your name?"
"John Fitzgerald."
The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.
A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.
"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.
The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.
"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.
"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.
"Yes, go on."
John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.
He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.
"They're too big!" John complained.
The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.
"They're still too big!" John whined.
"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.
"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.
John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.
John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.
His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.
John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.
This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.
John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.
His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.
Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.
John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.
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"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.
"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."
John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.
"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.
John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.
"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.
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Text
Babysitting Their Kid-Selves
I threw this together in a haze on Discord uhhhh enjoy thank you to @windalchemist001 for putting the idea In My Brain
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HEARTSLAYBUL
Riddle - struggles between wanting to help his youngerself have positive experiences, but also knows that depending on how old he is, it might just be super stress inducing. Finds a middle ground in giving his younger self an "easy" assignment and then giving him the time of his life, 10/10
Trey - he's burnt out from being the oldest, and from momming Riddle, and from taking care of the dorm. His kid self is being told to go play outside and don't get hurt (which his kid self obeys, and comes in when he's hungry and that's about it) very laissez-faire bc he can't be bothered. He knows the other boys in the dorm wouldn't let his kid self get hurt anyways, especially Riddle, who likely ends up taking the brunt of the responsibility 7/10
Cater - hehe yeah his kid self is Traumatized, he brings him to play video games/teach him to skate board/intro to Not Sweet snacks and ends up getting a kid trauma dumping to him. Or. he sees his kid self and nopes out, immediately asks anyone else to take care of him because he's gonna go :sparkles:cry:sparkles: but you don't need to know that. Either 9/10 or a 2/10
Deuce - Awkward at first, but honestly, just does what his mom did for him, smooth sailing, 10/10
Ace - "hah, I'm the best babysitter in the world, only the coolest kids can handle me. Think you have what it takes?" <- secretly really good with kids but only because he had his big brother as a role model. He also knows now all the tricks his big brother used on kid him so he has some fun being that to himself, as much as a handful as kid self is. 8/10
SAVANNACLAW
Leona - Sees how hopeful his younger self was, knows that Savannaclaw knows better than to fuck with it, leaves his child self in community care and leaves bc he doesn't want to reminded of the love he didn't recieve when he was little 10/10 for looking out for both of their mental health
Ruggie - oh my god he adores younger self, teaches him everything he knows, uses his "adorability" to his advantage, but also uses Leona's cash to buy ingredients for a food his younger self rarely got to try as a treat. Honestly, 10/10
Jack - He's a little awkward around his kid self, asks Leona for advice, gets none, asks Vil for advice, Vil ends up Momming and taking over sorry baby Jack. N/A he didn't give up the child intentionally but he also didn't really get to babysit
OCTAVINELLE
Azul - Oh hell no, like at first its like "look how far of come" but the self loathing immediately takes over again. Kid Azul's only saving "grace" is the tweels who terrify the baby by accident but are actually really soft and caring with him. Azul just makes sure his kid self has something to hide in bc "nobody wants to look at that" 2/10
Jade - Knows What He's Doing, and he's going to treat his kid self as gently as possible because he knows what's coming for him in later years :) 10/10
Floyd - Does fine until the kid cries and then pawns his kid self off to Jade 6/10
SCARABIA
Kalim - He's a big brother, but he's not big brother, you know? He likes to make sure the kid has fun and feels safe but he forgets to take breaks and give him water and oh god now he's on a magic carpet bc child self has to go to the bathroom and they're on the WRONG side of the dorm. Very caring, very loving, a little airheaded. If he takes his attention off him he wanders off. Jamil usually has to step in, but neither of them want him to. 7/10
Jamil - In a similar boat to Leona, but instead of leaving his kid self to someone else, he ends up going off campus with his kid self and lets him beat him in races/video games/ dance offs/ etc. so he can feel like he's the best at something for once. They end up cooking together, and honestly it heals adult Jamil a lot too 10/10
POMEFIORE
Vil - Carries a bit of contempt as well as admiration for his younger self. There is a part of him that wishes things had gone differently. Vil likely ends up keeping his kid self in his room all day, but while they're in there, they do all the things Vil remembers wishing he could do, like throwing a tantrum, finally having his feelings about Neige be validated, making a mess, eating whatever he wants, etc. etc. It's just it takes half the day for him to get to that point, before there's a break through it's almost pure ice on adult Vil's side with his kid self just sitting on the bed. 6/10
Rook - Doesn't want anything to do with his kid self, knows his kid self is self sufficient, tells him to not talk to anyone and leaves him alone. ???/10
Epel - Epel uses his kid self as an excuse to go get messy and dirty and play all day. He WILL blame his kid self for any accidents that may occur inside of Pomefiore. Kid self finds it unfair but funny, but can be bought back with some apple slices with caramel. It's a lot of fun, but a lot of clean up. 8/10
IGNIHYDE
Idia - Blames his younger self for the whole ||Ortho|| thing and uh. Would probably lock him out of his room. Ignores/pretends he doesn't exist. Kid Idia seeing ||Ortho "alive"|| would probably have him breaking down. 0/10
Ortho - .....
DIASOMNIA
Malleus - Can't handle his kid self as much as he insists that he can. Probably does something that accidentally triggers himself (both versions) and Lilia has to take over before there's a major melt down. They do have ice cream together after. 5/10
Lilia + Silver - I'm Waiting, Sorry
Sebek - Doesn't want to take care of his kid self. At first he thinks it's cool but then his kid self is biting everything, asking so many questions, getting close to Malleus without permission, showing off his adorable baby side, and kinda hates big Sebek purely because he has magic "already". (Sebek was canonically a 'late bloomer' with magic). He gets Too Stressed and then also gets more pissed off when Silver seems to do a better job baby sitting, but Lilia runs intervention. uhh. 3/10
hhhhhhhhhh bye Tag list: @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain
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henry7931 · 7 months ago
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The Brat Who Mowed My Lawn
Harold:
You know this kid is a real piece of work! But now that I have his body that’s all gonna change.
Chase has mowed my lawn for a couple of years now and I should have fired him for his poor attitude awhile ago.
The only is that he’s only one around I know who will do it well. Being an old man, it’s hard to get around but my ears and eyes still work!
Well I guess that’s a problem of the past for me and more of a problem for Chase.
All I do is catch that boy up to know good. And I knew for a fact he was going to be just as much of a bully and an a hole in college as we was for the last 18 years of his life.
What really upset me was how mean he would be to that sweet gay kid next door Joseph. That kid didn’t do anything to him!
Well I got a surprise for Chase when he wakes up from my nap, not only is now old, going to have trouble moving around but he’s going to hear about his body coming out as a proud gay man!
You know this is the last thing I’m going to do for him which is a free mow of his new lawn haha!
Now I better get back to my new home before he wakes up.
10 minutes later:
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“Wooowee!! These piggies right here stink!”
But look how sexy my new young toes look! Let me get a good ole sniff…
*sniff*
Boy that makes my new pecker harder than a pool!
I take a little peak at my growing boner and it’s a pretty good size.
I walk over to my window to see if he’s gotten up yet but that’s when I spot that sweet gay boy walking.
I crack open the window and say, “Joseph!! Hey hold up a minute, I wanna talk to you!”
He looks nervous and I say, “I promise, it’s nothing bad. Just give me 2 minutes.”
I run downstairs and meet him at my door.
He looks at me shyly and I say, “hey I owe you an apology.”
“Really?”
“Yeah I’ve been awful to you and— it’s because I haven’t been honest with myself. I just see you out here being so you and truthful… I guess what I’m trying to say is…. I’m gay too.”
He looks shocked hearing the words come out of my mouth.
“It’s okay Chase, I uhhh I’m kinda surprised but thank you for the apology.”
“Well how I’ve been was not acceptable at all and I would love to make it up to you.”
“Yeah?”
I scoot closer to him, “I think you’re awfully cute and uh… what are you doing right now?”
I was gonna ask him on a date but my bodies hormones are losing control right now.
“Nothing really.”
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“Well you wanna hang out?”
1 hour later:
So Joseph and I made out for a bit which kinda led us to heavy pettin’
And well I may have let him explore my new body. And we’re pretty compatible, we both like smelly pits, dirty feet, he even let me play with his cute toes too.
But the best part was the foot job he gave me. It felt amazing on my new pecker. He even let me lick all the cum off his toes.
Now he wants to come back tonight for a “sleepover.” Good thing is that my new parents won’t mind, that it matters I’m a grown adult at my age.
Oh wait I’m getting a FaceTime, oh look who it is! It’s the old sleepy grandpa.
“Hello Mr. Harold, how did you like your yard?”
“SHUT UP OLD MAN! AND GIVE ME BACK MY BODY!”
“Oh no, is everything okay over there? You don’t sound well. Should I call someone?”
“Don’t play stupid! You need to give me back my body or—“
“Or what exactly? You’re going to beat me up? Tell someone? Listen, I don’t think anyone had ever taught you a lesson so I’ll make this easy for you.”
*click*
Poor old man, sounds like he’s going through a lot. Oh well!
*A Few Months Later*
“Ugh are you going to tease me with this clothes on or are you gonna join me?” says Joseph my currently naked boyfriend standing with an erection in front of me.
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“Well let me start out with my socks, I know you love my feet after a long day.”
“God you I do love your feet but I especially love that nice cock of yours.”
Joseph impatiently hops into the recliner with me and I embrace his body wrapping my hands and with his cock.
“So glad your parents are out of town, I can’t wait until we’re ‘college roommates’ next week.”
“I know then we can do this every night,” I say pinching his ass.
Joesph or Joey as I like to call him makes a yelping noise,
“Oh my god, I forgot to ask you. Did you hear about our old neighbor next door?”
“Oh yeah, poor old guy. Well you wanna take this upstairs because I’m horny as f*ck now.”
“Please! And you better fuck me tonight Chase, I’m not giving you a foot job again.”
“But!!! But you’re so good at them baby and your feet are so sexy!”
“Nope I want you rail me.”
“Fine!”
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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 months ago
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Epic the Musical What if
(What if Odysseus didn’t kill the infant in Troy)
-The war with the Trojans went exactly the same as described in the song. Odysseus and the other armies were attacking Troy. They used the horse strategy.
-Odysseus gets his vision from Zeus. Telling him that there was someone his must kill.
-Sure enough, Odysseus finds the infant. (The people named him ‘Astyanax’ as his father Hector was the defender of Troy.)
-Now Odysseus begs Zeus to not make him do this.
- He sings “Just a Man” but instead of dropping the infant from the wall. Right when he was about to… he stops. Because he’s just a man.
-He takes Astyanax with him and his crew. Dropping a fake baby from a wall to get Zeus off his back.
-Odysseus renames the child. Calling him Eleos, the crew asked where he found the baby. Odysseus makes up a lie about finding him at the outskirts of town.
-The song “full speed ahead” occurs and the group end up on the island where Polyphemus is.
-But Odysseus is now a lot less guilt stricken, watching over the kid. He is more sure of his command, but… he does worry the gods will find out the truth.
-Odysseus decides to send a force with him (as he isn’t feeling guilty of baby murder). They find the winions and they tell Odysseus about the cave. (An alternate version of “open arms” plays)
-But Odysseus being more focused asked some follow up questions. Finding out about the cyclops.
-Athena shows up and asks Odysseus what the deal is with the infant. Odysseus says he found it just outside of Troy.
-Athena tells him not to get soft because of him. (Warrior of the mind) but is suspicious and feels like he’s hiding something.
-Odysseus decides to be more clever. Instead of just killing the sheep, Odysseus tells his crew to use stealth and sneak the sheep out.
-He told one of his crew to watch Eleos while they grabbed the sheep.
-Unfortunately the plan failed because one of the sheep started making noise and one of the crew stabbed the sheep to shut it up.
-Polyphemus woke up and the song “Polyphemus” goes the same way.
-But Odysseus was more prepared in advance, and had a larger group with him. And had a means of taking out the Cyclops. “Survive” became a different song with no casualties. And Polyphemus dies.
-They take the rest of the sheep and leave. Polites comments that he thought they were gonna die but were relieved they didn’t.
-The crew leave the island, with a victory song (now not called “Remember them,” but called heading home.)
-Athena had no complaints because Odysseus killed the cyclops and didn’t reveal his name. But she’s suspicious, and there is a song called “Hiding something.”
-There is still a Storm. “Storm” plays and while it’s not as bad, they do end up on the Sky Islands.
-Odysseus consults Athena regarding the storm, and if they should ask the wind god for help. Athena tells him no. But asks him about the infant again. This time tricking him into confessing.
-Odysseus confesses it’s the baby, Zeus told him to kill. Which horrifies Athena. Athena explaining to which Odysseus says he knows ( My Goodbye comes into play now)
-The storm cleared up and Odysseus looks at Eleos, wondering how this boy could be anything evil. He sees the soft smile, this boy is his son. He’s attached. He sings a variant of “Monster” but it’s called “No monsters here” about Eleos never becoming the monster fate said he would be.
-Despite everything, the group makes it home to Ithica. It only took them one year instead of 10, and no one died.
-Of course when Odysseus returned with 600 men, the suitors that had started to gather left immediately. (A new Song called “King Returns” ) Antinous was the only one that remained, claiming Odysseus wasn’t fit to be king, as he left his kingdom for 11 long years.
- A variation of the song “Little wolf” but changed to “Wolf” is played. Odysseus beats the shit out of Antinous and kills him.
-Odysseus reunites with Penelope and his 11 year old son Telemachus. He even sees his mother. Who had been waiting for his return. (The new song “Welcome Home” plays ending the first part of the musical.
-It cuts to 17 years later.
-Odysseus is king but he is older, and he had been preparing Telemachus to take his place.
-Penelope tells Odysseus of her concern regarding Eleos. The song “Luck runs out” but a different rendition, using Penelope talking to Odysseus.
-Eleos, now 18 years old and an absolute beast, has a match against his brother Telemachus called “Rivalry”. Up to this point Telemachus always beat Eleos, but he wanted to win so badly… he accidentally snapped his neck.
-This was very concerning, as the next song “Monster” is describing Eleos. Ithica turns against him as he killed their future king.
-Odysseus realized the prophecy and decided that he needed to correct his mistake (filled with grief over losing his son)
-Eleos flees not wanting to fight Odysseus (the song “Odysseus” plays with a different context.) Eleos barely escapes. Odysseus laments that if he was only a few years younger, he could have ended this.
-Eleos escapes and Laments his life, where the new Song “Tragedy” plays.
-He ends up fleeing to the ruins of Troy. Where he finds out the truth. The song “Ruthlessness” but altered to be about Eleos, as he abandons his name. Taking the name the people of his homeland once gave him, Astyanax.
-It cuts to years later, Odysseus is an old man and Penelope never had another child. Odysseus wonders if he acted to brashly with Eleos. He did learn it was an accident. The new song “Regret” plays.
-Ithica is set ablaze. As the new song “Avenger” plays. And the line from Odysseus “All I hear are screams” is said through out.
-Odysseus sees Eleos, and the song “No longer you.” Plays but it’s Odysseus singing it about Eleos. Comparing the child he knew to the monster before him.
-Odysseus tries to plead with him. But Eleos tells him his true name. Astyanax. And the new song “Revenge” plays (same tune as Mutiny)
-And sure enough, Astyanax kills Odysseus. He burns Ithica to the ground. Killing everyone.
-Astyanax looks around the destroyed kingdom. He sings a new song called “Just begun.” And he describes how Ithica was just the first. There were other kingdoms that destroyed his home and he would destroy them all. And it ends with “For it has only just begun”
-And that’s where it ends.
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son1c · 1 month ago
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i had a dream last night about the sonic movies. they were different, though. instead of staying put once he lands on earth, he keeps moving. he travels from place to place, always out of sight, staying safe with his speed and momentum. he gains a real appreciation for earth's environment this way, since he's basically "roughing it" through north america's many biomes.
he manages to go undetected until he's about 10 years old. his discovery happens like this: he's tramping through the woods like he always does. he's pretty far in there--don't want to risk running into any hikers, right?--but there's someone else there. at first, he thinks it's just a bird or bobcat making some noise. so, he turns the page in the stolen "borrowed" library book he's reading and ignores it, but it doesn't stop.
he closes the book. strains his ears. now that he's listening harder, the noise almost sounds like someone crying.
of course, sonic has his 1 golden rule: don't let anyone see you. he's stayed true to that for all these years, and he's not going to break that rule now... but what's the harm in a little investigating? it'll just be a quick peek.
as it turns out, the noise wasn't coming from a bird or a bobcat; it was the faint crying of a human kid. sonic can tell even from a distance that the kid is hurt--there's no way an ankle is supposed to bend that way--but he's also hesitant to get any closer. what if this is a trap? isn't it a little suspicious that there's a kid all the way out here? and, most importantly: does he really want to break his golden rule?
well, yeah. there's no one else out here but him and the kid. help isn't coming--if there's gonna be a hero in this situation, then there's no other choice. so, sonic steps out of the bush and toward the kid with his hands raised in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture. his heart is beating a million miles a minute, but he's not scared, not really. his entire being aches with this opportunity; the opportunity to shed his years-long loneliness and make a connection, if only for a moment.
the kid hears a twig snap under sonic's feet and stiffens, her sobs catching in her throat. in a trembling voice, she asks, who's there?
sonic pauses. he's barely 10 feet from her now. looking directly at her, with nothing in between them but air. and yet, it's like the kid doesn't see him. her eyes dart around, searching, but always jumping right past sonic. trying to keep it casual, sonic replies, your hero has arrived.
sonic holds his breath. the girl looks confused, her brow furrowing, but at the same time, her shoulders relax. under her breath, she mumbles something that might be, a kid? then, she looks directly at sonic... kind of. her head turns toward the direction his voice came from, but her eyes don't focus on him. what are you doing way out here?
you know, sonic says, a smile tugging at his lips despite the anxiety coiling in his stomach, i was just about to ask you the same thing.
the girl frowns. she turns away from sonic as a stormy expression overtakes her face. none of your beeswax, she replies, but her venom is halfhearted. she's clearly hurting right now.
tentatively, sonic steps closer. his golden rule is beginning to slip from his mind. ooo-kay, he says slowly, keep your secrets. now, sonic kneels down in front of the girl. if he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her, and it took every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from doing just that.
the girl turns toward sonic again. this time, her eyes don't slide past him like he's made of slippery syrup. she squints, her nose scrunching up as she appears to focus very, very hard on what's barely a foot in front of her face. then, finally, she asks, you just gonna stand there and stare?
sonic grins. hey! it's not every day i get to stage a rescue operation in the woods. i wanna savor the feeling of being a forest ranger. sonic pauses, the girl's shallow breaths bringing him back to reality. he notices the old backpack clutched in the girl's hands and asks, what's in the bag? please tell me it's a smartphone. preferably of the apple variety. but i'd accept a blackberry too--those are cool. either way, we can use it to phone home. you know, like in E.T.--
i'm not an alien! the girl snaps. besides, i don't have any home left to call. she tightens her grip around the backpack as her eyes narrow into tiny slits. when she does this, sonic notices the deep, dark circles under her eyes. either rescue me, or go away. i don't care.
sonic matches the look of angry despair on the girl's face with one of stubborn optimism. i thought you'd never ask, he says. then, he pulls an old t-shirt out of his quills and tears it into strips. alright, so, he starts to say as he reaches for the girl's twisted ankle, i've watched almost all of grey's anatomy, and the first two seasons of house m.d., which means i'm basically a doctor. right?
the girl blinks. no?
sonic stops, his fingertips millimeters away from her bloody sock. you have a better idea?
the girl bites her lip. no.
great! i'll be fast. promise. true to his word, sonic wraps the girl's ankle in a flash. then, he says, yeah-heah-heah! now we're talkin'. if i didn't know any better, i'd say that was a professional patch job!
the girl loosens her death-grip on the backpack and slowly wiggles her toes. it hurts, but not as much as before. not bad, she mutters.
beaming, sonic offers her his hand. but she doesn't react at all, so sonic slowly lowers his hand. then, he scratches his head. he's missing something, but what? he looks around, scanning the dirt-and-leaf-covered forest floor for any clues until eventually he finds it: a white cane poking out of a nearby bush, caught in the root of a particularly gnarled tree.
forgetting himself for a moment, sonic uses his super speed to grab the cane before returning to the girl's side. he goes unpunished though, as all she does in response is widen her eyes and ask, what was that?
just the wind, sonic says, a little cheekily. then, he tells her about what he found. the girl snatches the cane from him rather rudely, but sonic lets it go without comment. then, because she's still sitting on the ground, he asks, need a hand?
and then the dream ended. i think it was pretty epic because a visually impaired companion would mean sonic could have a friend without letting his secret (i.e. the fact that he exists) get out. he'd just have to be veryyyy careful about not touching her or letting her touch him. cuz while he can explain some things, like his arms are fuzzy cuz he's wearing a... ""fur coat""... and his hands are big cuz he's still ""growing into them""... other things, like his quills, are a bit harder to explain.
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