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jtl-fics · 11 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 18

Weirdly enough the only thing that FF can think of as they head down the stairs is the first Saw movie.

That one happened IN a bathroom right? He kind of watched all of them in a row to prepare himself for whatever Andrew might decide to do to him. But he’s near positive that one happened in a bathroom. It was derelict and he didn’t think it really had running water (or did it? Didn’t the guy wake up in a half-full tub? His memory is hazy in his bathroom related desperation and may be trying to protect him from thinking about water).

All leading to the main thought going through his head as he slowly headed down the narrow stairway to his death.

Would Andrew let him use the facilities before he’s handcuffed to a pipe?

The worst part about all of this is that he is not sure if he needs to take a dump or if he just needs to fart, he knows he has to take a piss. He’s read that when you die your body will relax and it’ll all just flow out of you and Nicky gave him these pants so he feels bad but he also does not want to face his death without pants. If he needs to take a shit then they’re definitely going to be absolutely ruined, if it’s a fart well…Andrew can’t kill him any further? He can mutilate his corpse a little but FF won’t be around to experience it.

No matter what he’s definitely going to piss himself. He had way too much water at Sweeties trying to consume the spicy ice cream.

You may be wondering why FF has not run away from his predicament and is walking down these steps without protest or comment or plea for his life.

First of all he is pretty sure that if he makes any sudden movements he will ruin these pants that Nicky bought for him. Second of all Andrew had already told him once that he wouldn’t accept any pleading for mercy he still remembers how he asked Andrew, “Please give me back my pen?” and Andrew had shot him a look that had his stomach cramp and his fingers itch for the bottle sweet pink relief in his backpack.

“I don’t like that word, don’t use it around me.” He said.

FF ever the pragmatic sort, “Which one?” He had asked because he had said a few, “I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.” He followed up with when Andrew glowered at him only for the glare’s intensity to increase 10 fold.

“Don’t use the first word of your first statement or the last word of your second.” Andrew grit out and got up to leave without a word.

Message received loud and clear Andrew did NOT like words ‘Please’ or ‘Misunderstanding’.

So FF knows that any pleading for mercy would ABSOLUTELY result in Andrew not letting him take a bathroom break before him and Captain Neil make destroying him into a couple activity. The fact that Captain Neil is here is a bit of a shock but maybe Captain Neil has finally gotten the other Freshman Dealer up to snuff.

Maybe Kevin really did want to dissect him to figure out how Strikers keep passing straight to him?

They reach the door at the bottom of the stairs.

Ah, time to face the music.

At least he’d texted Gran that he was going to die when they had gotten into the club and the bathroom had not made itself readily apparent. Sure it was about his current ‘gotta piss / gotta shit’ situation but he’d been wise to keep his cause of death vague in that text.

The door opens and…

This is the NICEST torture chamber FF has EVER seen. (And after his desperation watch of all the Saw movies he has seen quite a FEW)

“Minyard, Josten, and Guest. Table 6 is yours.” A voice comes from the side and when he looks over there’s a man in quite a nice uniform standing behind a soft-lit bar polishing a glass looking every bit like a bar tender at those high-end places you see in movies. He looks around a bit more and there are some other people down here. It’s not quiet per se but it is a comfortable level of noise in comparison to the IQ dropping noise upstairs.

“C’mon Smith.” Andrew juts his chin towards a table in the back.

FF follows but continues to try and fit this nice little room into his world view.

Do these people watch other people get tortured to death for fun on a Friday night? Unlikely considering the upholstery on the booths and chairs looked like it’d stain if blood got on it. Was this perhaps a trafficking location where Andrew would sell off his organs to the highest bidder? He looked at the other patrons who seemed a bit higher class than the general club scene upstairs but not like they had the money to buy one of his kidneys. Maybe-

“Do not tell Nicky about this place, ever.” Andrew says as they slide into the booth. FF nods but can’t help but tilt his head slightly in an unspoken question, “He would absolutely tell any and everyone about it. Eden’s wants to keep this place a secret from the general public.” Andrew explains.

“Nicky currently thinks that there’s a straight swingers club down here.” Captain Neil says with a huff of laughter.

“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.” Floats through his head again.

What the fuck was a swinger?

His fingers itch for his phone but he’s currently talking with Andrew and Captain Neil so that’d be rude but they’re talking to him like he absolutely knows what a swinger is and he DOES NOT.

“It’s quieter down here. Figured you’d prefer it.” Andrew says as he gets up and heads towards the bar down here where the bartender was aggressively cutting ice chunks.

He and Captain Neil sit in silence for a few seconds before Captain Neil offers him a slight smile, “I know you’d rather be with your grandma and you and Andrew prefer not to say things out loud but we’ve really liked hanging out with you.” Captain Neil says.

????????????????????????????????????????????????

That’s such a nice thing to say to someone.

Especially someone like FF.

Especially especially when they’re planning on killing him?

He hopes his confusion stays off his face as he nods once. “It’s been fun.” It’s not even really a lie. Thanksgiving yesterday had been nice and loud and FF had missed the chaos of a Family Dinner more than he had ever realized. The car ride had been…a time but once he’d asked Andrew to either keep his eyes on the road or let him out Andrew’s hands had stayed at 10 and 2 and the ride had been smooth. Aaron and Nicky’s weight against him had been nice too, a warm memory before he developed a possible life long aversion to whipped cream. He’d gotten to go Black Friday shopping and Captain Neil even helped carry it home for him. Baking bad been nice even if the stress of doing it with his life on the line was less so. The subsequent nap and day spent doing normal college guy things had been…it’d all been nice.

It’s starting to feel like….

“Drink this.” Andrew puts a drink down in front of him.

No Andrew definitely wants his bladder to burst.

“What is it?” He asks instead looking at the creamy looking drink with suspicion.

Andrew rolls his eyes as he hands Neil a fruity looking drink as he sits with what is a few fingers of scotch. “It’s virgin.” Andrew says not answering the question at all and must pick up that FF won’t be drinking it until he gets the full answer because he continues after a moment, “It’s like a Pina Colada but with bananas instead.” Andrew answers.

It’s not that FF hates banana but why in the world would Andrew grab him this? Was it just one of the few virgins options on this place’s fancy menu or-

“Bananas will help get your stomach acid back down.” Andrew says, “Since you’re an idiot and ate that mango ice cream just because you wanted to impress that girl.” He rolls his eyes.

“Impress that girl?” There weren’t any girls at the table and how in the world would him eating that god-forsaken spicy ice cream impress anyone other than Betsy. Even Betsy would only be impressed by the depths he was willing to reach just to avoid what he perceives as an awkward social situation.

“The waitress.” Neil reminds him as if that cleared anything up.

“Yeah,” he says as if he has understood the conversation but he has not. “It was spicy mango.” He says because maybe if he keeps the conversation going he’ll get enough context clues to understand what might be his last conversation.

Andrew let out a huff of laughter and pushed FF’s drink closer to him, “Drink your fancy Banana smoothie Casanova.” He says.

No closer to understanding the conversation he accepts that it might be something that only becomes clear after he sheds his mortal coil and is no longer given a -10 INT debuff by his full bladder and revolting stomach.

He takes a sip.

Oh that’s actually pretty good.

It feels like he can feel it sizzling in his stomach and soothing the discomfort there. Maybe he should look into Banana smoothies as a replacement for what Abby has called a ‘concerning co-dependence’ in regards to Pepto Bismol. No one can put him on a medical watch if it’s just banana smoothies he’s chugging down like they’re going out of style.

“Thanks,” he says, “that was good.” He admits before reaching into his jacket and moving past the Megamind toy and grabbing his wallet. “What do I owe you for that?” He asks.

“We’re even.” Andrew waves away the money.

“You bought the stuff for breakfast, those brownies, and the pie tomorrow.” Neil says and FF blinks surprised to hear that they were talking about the pie he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to make.

“You don’t need to buy a spot with us.” Andrew says and FF leans back slightly at the intensity on Andrew’s face as he says it. “I invited you here because I wanted to. The brownies were good but if you don’t feel like making the pie tomorrow? It’s not like I’m going to drive you back to Palmetto and leave you on Abby’s doorstep.” He says.

FF feels gears start to turn in his head.

“It’s good pie.” He hears himself say.

“I didn’t even know about the pie when I invited you.” Andrew says and…

Andrew and FF sit in silence but honestly it’s not like Andrew’s sharpening his knives. The two of them mostly just do their own work or read. FF has been getting his German literacy up to snuff so that he can read the language when he goes there to visit Nicky’s fiance next year. He likes how serious Andrew is about learning it so that he doesn’t have to ask Captain Neil a thousand questions and it’d be nice if Andrew wasn’t obviously planning on murdering him.

Andrew brings dried apples and sends Captain Neil along with probiotic yogurts to their meetings. Both of those things tend to soothe his stomach and the yogurt that had been unflavored before was now vanilla which he liked a fair bit. It would have been a really nice gesture if it wasn’t for the fact that Andrew was making fun of his tummy troubles.

Andrew will put his foot down in practice sometimes when Kevin is getting too demanding wanting to know exactly how FF intercepted his passes to Neil. Kevin always backs off and Andrew will do the same when Jack starts to get a little too personal in his attacks at FF or when Sheena decides she’s going to be a bitch. It’d be nice if it wasn’t Andrew staking his claim that he was the one who was going to make FF’s life miserable.

Andrew drove FF around for an hour after Greg had shown up. He found out later from one of his friends that Andrew had threatened Greg after he had power walked away into the building. Andrew had driven him around and had only started heading towards the tower when FF had relaxed. It would have been nice if Andrew wasn’t trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

Andrew had invited him to his Family’s house over Thanksgiving when the bad storm had ruined his Thanksgiving plans. Andrew had threatened Jack to stop him from eating his Grandma’s pie and complaining about it. Andrew had stopped messing around with Captain Neil when FF had made it clear he was uncomfortable being in a car where the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road. Andrew had twice made him go to bed in the last couple hours.

It’d be nice if…

“We’ve really liked hanging out with you” Captain Neil had said.

Andrew was just trying to be nice.

Embarrassment rolls over him like a wave but FF has many years of pretending like he’s not going to die from embarrassment, “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll still probably make the pie tomorrow.” He offers.

Andrew’s eyes change slightly and FF is under the impression that he’s happy to hear that.

“Just enjoy your drink Smith.” Andrew says.

FF does go back to sipping his drink and letting more and more memories of things Andrew had done come to him and lets his embarrassment grow.

He finishes his drink and only then realizes that he is a code red in terms of bladder capacity. The new knowledge that this is not a torture chamber but in fact yet another overture of friendship from Andrew paired with his desperation finally loosens the question from his mouth, “Where’s the bathroom here?” He asks.

“There isn’t one downstairs but just head up stairs and hug the wall to the left.” Captain Neil answers.

“Bring your phone. If Frank doesn’t recognize you to let you back in.” Andrew reminds him.

FF nods and heads out of the club and up the stairs.

He might be doing a bit of a potty dance so he forces himself to become unnoticeable because he does not need cool people at a cool club to see him about to piss himself. Once he enters into a stealth mode that the United States Military would like to talk to him about he hugs the wall and nearly cries tears of relief when he sees a door labelled MEN.

He doesn’t think about the possibility of letting up on stealth mode because he is sure that he is about to make a face that he does NOT want any human being to see when he unzips his pants and starts to take the world’s most life-affirming piss on the planet.

As his bladder empties his brain is able to process the understanding that he had come to down in the basement he had thought would be his final resting place.

Andrew has been trying to be nice (and succeeding it was all so nice! He feels like an asshole! He is an asshole! Gran always told him that assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me. He had just thought it was funny grandma humor not valuable life advice!)

The night wasn’t going to end with Andrew’s knife in his stomach, it was probably just going to end with Nicky puking on his shoes (which is fine because these are the shoes Nicky was letting him borrow for the club anyways, they’re his shoes to puke onto.)

A secondary relief fills his system. His stomach, soothed by the Banana smoothie and now this, feels like it might actually let him live through the night.

While FF was distracted with a piss that would have made any number of cult leaders jealous with the number of divine revelations he was experiencing he failed to notice a second man enter the bathroom.

There was a reason that FF always ALWAYS became noticeable when he was at a urinal and the man who came to the urinal right next to him was showcasing that VERY reason.

He was trapped here for at least ten more seconds and he could hear the man grumbling distractedly but didn’t really pay it too much attention until…

“Fucking Wesninski Brat.” He grumbled under his breath.

Oh god dammit.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear

#Fluent Freshman AU #FINALLY CAN PUT DOWN MY TAGS #You have no idea the number of times that I had to sing hollaback girl to myself during this #It was B-A-N-A-N-A-S #We have now closed the 'Andrew is going to crazy murder me' emotional arc #The 'Oh god if Andrew or Neil find out that I know Russian they're going to stop being my friends and hate me' arc begins #He's gotten a confirmed 3 friends today #And he got to go to the bathroom #He's riding a high #Not only is it 3 friends it is 3 friends who like him enough to invite him to spend the holiday break together #That's so nice #Andrew is so nice #FF cannot BELIEVE he thought Andrew 'eat these dried apples' Minyard was going to stab him #Captain Neil is lucky to have him #Also Andrew is lucky to have Captain Neil #Neil and Andrew are definitely down in the Speakeasy right now enjoying FF's bathroom break #Andrew's ordered FF another round of Banana daiquiri #Andrew: I can't believe he ate that ice cream. His stomach must have been killing him.#Neil: Yeah he was really pale and sweaty until he started drinking that banana drink #Neil: I'm a little worried about Smith finding the bathroom. Maybe I should go up?#Andrew hand on Neil's thigh: he'll be fine. We can go look if he's not back in 10.#AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG #AFTG Shitpost #AFTG Fic #My Fic #Andreil #FF - Pt.18

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shentunans · 7 months

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Are you done? [south wind knows my mood episode 29]

#fxb: let me sit on the table block your tv & eat a banana in front of you whilst taunting you after your nth life threatening accident #bananas were your favorite fruit here let me peel one for you and feed it to you oh you don’t want it? okay I’ll eat it while being mean #and not break eye contact with you as i eat said banana because of all the fruits he picked up a kiwi & an apple & he went with banana gtfo #cheng yi #my gifs #south wind knows my mood #cdramaedits #cdrama #fu xinbo #fu yunshen #stand by for the queue #fu xizhou #this is b a n a n a s y’all bananas #you two sure this is about the company? because I’m getting whiplash #I laughed so hard I’m so sorry he’s being such a jerk and I’m here laughing like the immature idiot I am

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lolathepeacocklord · 1 year

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To give more context on Chromedome (I’m bad too though, I fixated on Whirl too much lmao)

Gay! Not even joking, he’s in a relationship with Rewind

Aaand that’s all I know dbfbdjsk

OMG SO COOL AND TRUE BESTIE ‼️ I heard of that somewhere but I didnt know if it was canon or not :0

#you could make a whole ass pride parade with just the lost light crew #wow is this entire ship one of those bowls with grapes and bananas and apples n shit?#cus yall fruity as hell #ask #answer #transformers #mtmte #transformers idw #transformers mtmte #transformers lost light #lost light

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sad--tree · 11 months

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spent all of 2day wallowing/mourning but i think if i spend the next 8 days the same way w/o leaving the apartment i might just off myself so. time 2 supress n repress til i can have my grief breakdown in the comfort of my own home. now i gotta figure out what im actually gonna DO ....

#redeemed myself at the self checkout at the OTHER 24h grocery so at least ik i wont starve #bw yesterday and today i have eaten..... a banana 2 slices of bread some ice cream and some apple juice #but i would prefer not 2 faint or puke from hunger tmrw nite during the concert #been there done that bought the tshirt never again pls n thnx

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chrisevansonly · 2 months

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Some Extra Goodies

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching

warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles

a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!

Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.

Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.

Until today.

“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”

You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.

“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”

Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.

“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”

Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.

It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.

“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly

“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”

“Really?”

You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list

“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”

“Well I just noticed something funny…”

Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.

“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”

“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”

Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.

“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”

“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”

Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.

“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”

“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”

You shrugged

“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”

At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open

“You’ve known?!”

“Every year since we started dating…”

Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.

“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”

“Hey!”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.

Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.

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cupid-styles · 13 days

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yours (ymls check-in)

in which y/n just wants to be harry's — officially.

word count: 3.8k

content warnings: parenting/family stuff (y/n and harry are parents), smut (breeding kink, slight size kink, literal one "mommy" mention, dirty talk)

ymls masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Parenthood is difficult.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, so it takes Harry and Y/N approximately two minutes of bringing Clementine into the world to come to the same realization. Her loud wails break their hearts every time, sleep becomes a luxury, and breastfeeding takes an incredible toll on Y/N’s physical and mental health.

But in the same way that parenting is hard and filled with tears and confusion, it’s just as — if not more — rewarding.

Clementine is the best thing that’s ever happened to each of them. Harry can’t remember a version of his life where he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with his sweet baby girl, and Y/N has softened up a considerable amount now that she spends most of her day cooing to her daughter.

It’s not perfect by any means — Clem is a tried-and-true daddy’s girl and sometimes it hurts Y/N’s feelings. Clementine also inherited her mom’s grumpy exterior and, in the middle of a visit from Harry’s parents or Y/N’s sister, will starfish her body, going completely rigid until one of her parents takes her. (Harry always thinks it’s funny while Y/N is embarrassed by it. It’s something they’re working on as a family.)

Beyond their little trio, though, lies a larger situation that’s been conveniently tucked away since Clementine was born: Harry and Y/N’s relationship.

They never decided what they were after confessing feelings for one another. One day, they lived separately and were going the route of platonic co-parenting. The next, Harry moved all his things into Y/N’s, ended the lease on his own apartment, and painted the guest room a pretty pastel pink.

At first, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Y/N has never cared for labels on relationships, and their devotion to each other was blatant — they were parenting a child together, after all. He kissed her good morning, they held hands on family walks, and at the end of the day, they were crawling into bed together. She didn’t need a ring or a title to reiterate where she stood in Harry’s life.

Until… well, until the supermarket incident.

It was a rainy day, but Y/N wanted to pop into the store before they rounded the corner to head back home. Now that Clementine’s pediatrician gave them the okay to start trying out solid foods — or, as solid as baby food can be — Harry had gotten really into making it from scratch. Currently, their kitchen was a mess of sweet potato, apple, and green bean purees, but Y/N was trying to be supportive, even if the noise of the blender sometimes woke Clem up from her afternoon nap. She remembered him mentioning a new recipe he found for carrots, mangos, and bananas, so she figured they could grab the ingredients on their way home.

Clementine looked adorable in her cute little rain jacket and matching hat. Harry couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, and as they dipped into the produce aisle, stroller in tow, she remembered they needed another gallon of milk since they were trying to wean Clem off of Y/N’s breast milk.

“You guys can stay right here, it’s just in the next aisle,” Y/N said, arms stuffed with produce bags. Harry nodded, though his attention primarily laid on Clementine’s gummy smile. Y/N snorted to herself as she quickly shuffled off to the dairy section — the duo were two peas in a pod, but she didn't think she would want it any other way.

Glancing down at her watch, she put a pep in her step as she walked back to the produce aisle. They had about 15 minutes before Clem started getting antsy and whiney about her pre-dinner nap, and she didn’t want her to get upset on their walk home.

Only, when she turned the aisle, Harry and Clementine weren’t alone anymore — no, there were two women standing with them, cooing over their daughter.

“She’s so precious! How old is she?” one of them asked.

“Ah, almost eight months,” Harry replied bashfully, petting down the tuft of brown curls at the top of Clementine’s head. Y/N clenched her jaw. Why had he taken her hat off? It was supposed to protect her from the rain!

“So sweet,” the other woman grinned, reaching out to thumb over Clementine’s puffy cheek. The vision sent a pang of jealousy through Y/N’s chest — her baby wasn’t some kind of doll that anyone could just touch! Clutching the produce and container of milk in her hands, Y/N all but marched over to the stroller and threw them in the bottom compartment.

“Ready to go, honey?”

Harry blinked at Y/N, a world of confusion swirling in the green eyes he shared with his daughter. She stayed silent and still, knuckles white from gripping the stroller handle so tightly.

“Yeah,” he finally replied, leaning down to gently place Clementine back in her seat, “This is Y/N, Clementine’s mum.”

“Oh, your baby is so sweet! Harry was just raving about you!” one of the women nearly squealed. Y/N smiled tightly as she watched him buckle Clementine in.

“Okay, say bye bye, Clem,” Harry murmured. They’d been trying to teach her how to wave hello and goodbye, but Y/N would rather scoop her own eyeballs out than watch her do it for the first time with these women.

In fact, she was already pushing the stroller down the end of the aisle before they could even get the word “bye” out.

Since that day about two weeks ago, it’s been constantly replaying in the back of Y/N’s brain. Even though Harry didn’t think much of it (she knows this because he immediately started talking about nonsense on the walk home), for the first time, it plucked at a chord of insecurity that she didn’t even know she had. She’d always felt fairly secure in her relationship with Harry — he’d all but begged her for this life together, and he’d been incredibly involved from the moment she got pregnant — so how is that two random strangers at the supermarket tore this out of her?

It bothered her so deeply to the point where she did something she’d never done before: Ask Lea for relationship advice.

“In the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me for help with a man,” Lea had said, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. Y/N grumbled as she wrapped her hand around her matcha, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She’d been able to sneak out for an afternoon coffee date with her while Harry took Clementine to the park. “You’re always so… sure of yourself. And you have a literal child with Harry. What gives?”

Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her lips together nervously. “You should’ve seen the way those girls were all over him. It was… gross.”

“It’s normal to feel jealous, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I am not jealous,” she muttered, “I just… he introduced me as Clementine’s mom. Don’t you think I’m a bit… more than that to him?”

“Of course you are. But you’ve never had that conversation, have you?”

“Like you said, we have a baby together. What else could you need?”

Lea smirked, “That’s all that you need. But he probably needs a bit more confirmation than that.”

Y/N bristled as she stuck her straw between her lips, taking a long sip.

“He knows we’re in a relationship, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “Dom and I used to hear all the gossip about you two before Clem was born, but since then, I think he’s just been focused on making sure you and her are both taken care of.”

“So what do I do?” Y/N asked through a sigh, leaning back against the worn leather of the booth.

“Talk to him,” Lea said easily, “But… maybe don’t do it in your rough-and-tough-Y/N way. Maybe… make it a little special. He likes that, y’know? Little romantic gestures?”

Y/N scrunched her face. Lea was right — Harry was all about the little things, like surprising her with flowers or waking her up with breakfast in bed on the weekends. And while Y/N was positive she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, she’d certainly attempt to find one if it meant making Harry happy.

. . .

A few days later, Harry walks into his shared apartment with Y/N to the scent of something delicious.

“Y/N?” he calls as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. They weren’t due for company, were they? He doesn’t think so, but with eight months straight of four to five hours of sleep each night, he had trouble remembering anything that wasn’t Clementine-related.

He follows the fragrance into the kitchen, where Y/N is standing over the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of some sort of sauce. She jumps, hand over her heart, when he goes to greet her.

“Jesus fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, the wooden spoon nearly clattering to the floor. He smirks and lets out an amused laugh as he walks towards her, observing the array of pans on the stovetop.

“What’s all this for?” he asks. Y/N presses a hand to his muscular chest and attempts to block him from seeing anything.

“I’m making you dinner,” she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Clem’s with my sister for the night.”

“Oh?”

She nods.

“Did I forget a special occasion?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how come I’m getting spoiled tonight?”

Her cheeks warm at that, but they both pretend her blush is invisible. “I just wanted to do something… romantic for you.”

“Romantic?” he repeats the word like it’s a bizarre concept and it makes a pit form in Y/N’s stomach, “That’s… sweet of you. Thank you.”

She nods, albeit a bit robotically. “Um. Yeah. It’ll be ready in like 5 minutes.”

“Sounds good,” he replies, “Do you want me to set the table?”

She shakes her head bashfully and Harry raises an eyebrow. “I already did that.”

Her demure nature makes a smile form at the edges of his lips and he reaches out to press a hand to her hip, squeezing gently.

“Y’okay?” he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her. “You seem nervous.”

Y/N shrugs and it supplies him with a tepid answer. “I just wanna make this nice for you.”

His heart breaks a bit at that and he ducks lower to catch her lips in a short, sweet kiss. PDA isn’t irregular for them — not with touch being Harry’s primary love language — so it’s unsurprising to be on the receiving end of one of his dizzying kisses, even if it ends quicker than she’d like.

“This is already so special to me. I do miss Clem, though.”

She snorts at that as he brushes his nose against hers. “Of course you do. She’s your mini me.”

“Except when she’s making that grumpy little face. That’s all you.”

Y/N lightly bats at his chest before mumbling out to go sit down in the dining room.

Harry’s eyes widen when he sees the candlelit table — he can’t remember the last time they ate on actual plates, always opting for take-out containers or paper plates for the sake of convenience. He swallows as he sits down and listens to Y/N shuffle around the kitchen. He hears her curse, followed by what sounds like her emptying pasta into a colander — she always burns herself whenever she does that, and he can envision the slight grimace that appears on her face.

Just as he’s getting antsy and preparing himself to ask if she needs any help, Y/N appears from the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she places it on the table, then stands up straight. She looks like a soldier waiting to be told to return to their duties.

“Um… I made us that roasted red pepper pasta you like.” she says, wringing her hands out in front of her. “I hope that’s fine.”

“That’s great,” Harry nods, gesturing to the seat across from him, “Sit down. You look like you’re gonna have an aneurysm. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down, and the sound of her grouchy voice makes him chuckle as he grabs her bowl to serve her, “I know I’m not, like… the most romantic person, or even the easiest person to be around, so it’s important to me that I make this really good for you.”

“I hate when you say that,” he murmurs before placing her full bowl in front of her. He moves to serve himself, “You’re the easiest person I’ve ever been around. You’re a great mum and I love being a parent with you.”

Y/N swallows as she listens to him, leaving her food untouched. He watches her and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly.

“Is that… all I am to you?” she asks softly with low eyes. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… am I still just a co-parent to you?”

He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, we never really talked about it, I guess. But you know you’re more than that to me.”

“You’re more than just Clem’s dad to me,” she continues. “And it kinda hurt my feelings when you introduced me to those girls as ‘Clementine’s mom’ a few weeks back.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I know.”

His heart strains at the thought of hurting her feelings, but he also knows that what happened in the supermarket was weeks ago. Had she been sitting on it and thinking about it all this time?

“I never want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. To be honest, I don’t know how to refer to you but… I’d say you’re my partner, yeah? You’re my teammate in raising our beautiful girl and I love getting to live life with you.”

Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. “But what if… what if you called me your girlfriend, too?”

Harry’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to place his hand on her knee, squeezing softly.

“Would you want that?” he asks. “I’ll only do it if that’s what you want.”

She looks up at him and nods. Her eyes are glassy and it makes Harry’s chest tighten. Suddenly, he needs to be closer to her, so he stands up and scoops her into his arms. At first she rejects his touch, mumbling out sentiments about still having postpartum weight, but Harry shushes her and pulls her into his lap.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N.” he murmurs. He leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She shivers and he keeps his hands as solid anchors on her hips.

“I want you to call me your girlfriend,” she says, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I don’t want you to entertain any other person or let them flirt with you or touch our baby. I just want it to be the three of us, always.”

If Harry’s being honest, he would have been content with living in this gray, in-between area with Y/N for the rest of their lives. He was happy — so incredibly happy to be in her life, to sleep next to her every night, to raise a gorgeous baby girl with her. He felt fortunate to be there for every moment, good and bad — but he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been waiting for the day where she told him what was really going on in that pretty head of hers.

He presses a chaste kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says quietly, soft fingertips smoothing over the expanse of her hip, “You’re my girlfriend, okay? Not just Clemmie’s mum. You’re so much more than that.”

She nods her head and Harry smiles gently at how flustered she continues to be — it’s a side of her that he rarely sees, and the sight makes a low chuckle sound from deep in his chest.

“You’re silly,” he mumbles against the shell of her ear. “Isn’t that what you are? A silly baby desperate to be mine?”

Y/N bristles and swallows harshly, keeping her gaze low in his lap. His smirk only grows as he begins to press slow kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. Her eyes flutter closed.

“Everyone thinks you’re this pretty, grumpy girl, but I know better than that,” he continues, sliding his hands beneath her tee-shirt to feel her warm skin, “You’re loving and kind. The best mum I’ve ever seen. The best partner and the best girlfriend, too. Isn’t that right, mama?”

She gasps wetly and he feels her thighs threaten to clench, but his hips prevent her from getting any relief. He hums, satisfied with her response and, in a quick movement, pulls her shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her swollen breasts sit prettily on her chest and he tries his best not to groan at the sight.

“Don’t tease,” she mewls. He chuckles as she grasps at the fabric of his own tee-shirt, the soft material in the tight clutch of her knuckles.

“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, though he knows the answer is an obvious and resounding yes. They haven’t had actual sex in at least a month, not with Clementine occupying 99% of their time. Even if he’s attempting to play it cool, his cock is hard and throbbing beneath layers of his clothing. He swears he can even feel the warmth of her pussy through her own clothes and it’s taking everything in him not to thrust up and grind against her.

“Yes,” Y/N pants, shaky fingers digging beneath the waistband of his trousers to pull his length out, “S-stop playing around. You know it’s been too long.”

Harry laughs lowly and lifts his hips up to grant her enough space so she can retrieve his cock. She doesn’t even bother pushing his pants or briefs down, swallowing tightly at the sight of the ruddy tip already leaking with pre-cum.

“Relax, baby,” he mumbles, grabbing one of her trembling hands and intertwining their fingers together, “Breathe, yeah? I’ll take care of my girl.”

Her pussy clenches at that — my girl — and she nibbles on her bottom lip eagerly when he pushes her soft shorts to the side to reveal her pussy. He wishes he had more willpower to look at what he’s been missing out on and his throat bobs when his eyes flicker down to the puffy clit tucked between her lips. He thinks they’ll both explode if he doesn’t get inside of her in the next two seconds, so he gives his cock a pump before he positions himself beneath her and slowly pushes in.

Immediately, she whimpers out and he stalls, his free hand pressing rigidly into the skin of her thigh.

“Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, “Tight fit.”

“I know.” he mutters, glancing up at her to read her expression. “Do you need me to pull out?”

She instantly shakes her head, “No, no. Keep going.”

Harry leans up to seal their lips in a messy, wet kiss as he continues pushing in as slowly as he can. He supposes he should’ve spent more time stretching her out, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Y/N over the past year, it’s that she’s always eager and ever determined to take him, even if it’s been weeks since their last time together.

When he’s finally all the way in, his balls snug against her bum, their kiss slows, though it doesn’t seem like Y/N has any plans to separate their mouths. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if he knows his cock is throbbing from the tightness of her pussy. And then, after what seems like an eternity, she nods.

Slowly, he begins to fuck up inside of her and breathy moans depart from her swollen lips. Harry’s mouth catches each one, punctuating every whimper with a gentle peck.

“There you go, mama, take my cock. You’re doing so good, aren’t you?”

She only responds with a lilting whimper and he moans, feeling the way her pussy clenches around his length. It’s not the dirtiest sex they’ve had — not by a long shot — but god, if it doesn’t feel incredible knowing that they’re completely devoted to one another.

“You make me feel so good,” she mewls, making his eyes nearly roll back, “I love your cock— ‘s so good, Harry, want— want you to give me another baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, squeezing her hips hard, “Can’t just fucking say that stuff, baby. I’ll bust before you even cum.”

“D-don’t care,” she shudders, but he can tell she’s reaching her peak by the way her thighs begin to tremble, each of her muscles tightening. “Cum inside me, m-make me a mommy again.”

His chest vibrates with a deep groan and he reaches between them to pinch at her pearly clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. He’s seconds away from bursting himself, but he refuses to finish before she has a chance to.

It barely takes a few loops around the bundle of nerves before she’s shaking in his lap, her pussy tensing around his length as she moans out his name over and over again. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he presses his forehead against her sweaty shoulder, shuddering as her orgasm triggers his own. As requested, he pumps his cock deep inside of her as he comes, pushing his seed as far as it’ll go. She whimpers from the sensation as pants fall from her lips, shivering every time he thrusts another rope of cum into her.

They’re both shaking by the time both of their orgasms taper off. Harry wraps his arms around her sweaty form, pulling her chest against his.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You and Clem. We’re a family.”

Y/N nods, echoing his words. “Yours.”

They settle into a comfortable silence; Harry’s softening cock still inside. He’s unsure of how how long they stay there, but he does know that they’ll have to move eventually so he can clean her up. It’s only then that she sits up to look at him, her eyes soft and tired.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you get me Plan B tomorrow?” she asks, biting her lip. “I think Clem is… more than enough for me right now.”

He laughs and nods his head.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll pick some up for you tomorrow.”

863 notes · View notes

foxartist-blog · 22 days

Text

Served with Fruit and a Break 〜 (Scaramouche x Reader)

!! NSFW !!

You have been warned.

• Word count: 2.6k

• Dom (slightly soft) Scaramouche, Female reader, Nipple play, Oral (f receiving), Rare praise

Note: This is more of Wanderer’s personality and character but written as Scaramouche for simplicity.

Scaramouche was at his desk, scribbling absent-mindedly while scanning over his assigned texts. How boring, he thought. There’s no reason for me to learn something I will likely never use in my life. He read a paragraph over and over again, his eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “The way humans write…” Scaramouche exhaled as he underlined some key words. “Entirely convoluted…” he muttered.

You gently knocked on his door and quietly sneaked behind his seat, and tapped on his shoulder with a plate of sliced fruit and snacks. “Wanna take a break?” You smiled at him, hoping that he would agree. But to your dismay, he flicked his hand as if swatting away a fly. “I have no need for food or breaks,” came his reply.

His rejection caused your shoulders to slump. “But…”

“No buts. Now stop being a distraction and go do your own assignments.”

Your brows furrowed slightly in annoyance and pursed your lips a little. “Well I’m taking a break.”

He didn’t reply as his attention was back on his textbooks. The way he brushed you off did irritate you a bit. You placed the plate down on his desk next to a pile of books and picked up a small slice of a banana, with a thought running through your mind. I’ll just do this and leave…

You grabbed onto his hair to pull his head back a little and shoved the banana into his mouth. Scaramouche’s eyes widened and he spluttered. You were already heading for the door but he gripped onto your arm and pulled you back. He spat out the piece of banana before speaking. “You little…” Scaramouche faltered before sighing. “You want me to choke?”

You averted your eyes from his intense gaze. “N-No… I just wanted you to take a break.”

He sighed. “I really don’t understand why you care so much but… fine. I’ll take this break so you can stop being a nuisance.” He let go of your arm and sat back down on his chair.

Great! You gave him a small smile then pointed at his lap. “Since there’s no chairs, I can sit here, right?” Giving him a playful wink, you were quick to take your seat on his lap, picking up a cherry and popping it into your mouth.

Scaramouche paused, feeling a little embarrassed. But he would never show that side to you. He sighed as he realised there really weren't any other seats for you. “Do whatever you want. Just involve me as little as poss—” he was cut off by you shoving another piece of fruit into his mouth. “Can you quit that?” He scowled when you looked satisfied doing that to him that he decided to take his revenge. He grabbed a blueberry from the plate and forced your mouth open with his other hand. “Say aah…” he smirked as he pushed the blueberry into your mouth. You closed your mouth after he let your jaw go, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were expecting him to shove it into your mouth as you did to him but to your surprise he was handling you quite gently. As you chewed quickly, you gazed into his eyes while he stared back silently. It was only when you swallowed that you realised you were staring so absent-mindedly at him that you turned away to pick up another piece of fruit. You brought the fruit up to his lips as he gave you a tiny smirk, slightly laughing at you.

“Heh… What’s the matter? Did you happen to get lost in my eyes?” Scaramouche opened his mouth as you fed him. “And quit feeding me like I’m a baby. Why are you doing that?” He frowned as he chewed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It's just an act of affection.” You were looking at the plate instead of his face, with the hope that he wouldn’t comment on your flushed cheeks.

Scaramouche picked off the plate this time and brought the apple slice to your lips. “I don’t… think I deserve such treatment from you. Yet…” His thumb swiped lightly over your bottom lip as you chewed, giving you a small, ticklish feeling. “I feel… greedy…” he continued, his thumb pushing past your lips when you finished eating the apple slice. You felt his thumb caressing the tip of your tongue before he pulled it out. There were moments like these where Scaramouche would openly tell you his feelings. It was something you greatly appreciated.

“Feed me a cracker this time.” Scaramouche requested. You picked up a cracker from the plate and fed him, smiling softly as you said, “it’s okay to be a little greedy…”

A small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he swallowed. “Is that so? Then I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” He picked up a strawberry and held it between his teeth before leaning towards you. Scaramouche caught your chin, pressing his thumb and middle finger against your cheeks gently to get you to open your mouth. He pushed half of the strawberry between your teeth and bit down, so half was in your mouth and the other half was in his.

“Hm. Sour,” Scaramouche muttered as he ate his half of the strawberry. He noticed you not chewing. “I don’t mind taking my strawberry back, you know.”

You stuttered out a confused ‘huh’ as he leaned towards your face, his eyes locked onto your lips. His thumb pressed between your lips as his tongue snaked in, swiping the other half of the strawberry. Scaramouche pulled away slightly as he chewed with a smirk plastered upon his lips. It finally registered in your brain what he did. ”Thief,” you remarked, playfully frowning. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his head closer before lightly pecking his lips in a teasing manner. Scaramouche’s mouth tickled upon feeling such softness against him. His hands slid down to your hips, fondling them as he pressed his mouth against yours.

While you were kissing him slowly, you pulled away briefly and picked up a piece of fruit from the plate. You popped the fruit into your mouth then pressed your lips against his again, pushing the fruit into his mouth with your tongue as Scaramouche parted his lips. To your surprise, he spat out the fruit and slid his textbooks and notepad to the side before grabbing you off his lap and onto the desk instead. He didn’t waste a single second as he immediately pressed his mouth against yours in a searing kiss, groping and squeezing your curves through your clothes in order to force a gasp out of you so he could push his tongue inside your mouth. His hands slid up to hold your face, as he circled his tongue around yours in a slow dance. Your hands found purchase at the front of his clothes, clutching and wrinkling his Akademiya uniform while you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Scaramouche finally pulled away when you needed air but he could not wait as his lips immediately trailed down the side of your neck, his hands pulling, unbuttoning, undressing you.

Scaramouche grunted as he felt your thighs squeeze his hips. “Aren’t you a little too excited?” He mumbled into your neck, kissing down until he reached your collarbone, licking it slowly.

“I think you’re the one who’s excited,” you replied as you caressed his head while one hand was running up and down his side, eventually inching its way between his legs, toward his hardening cock. Scaramouche began kissing the top of your breasts, while his hands squeezed them gently, his thumbs rubbing your nipples. He was licking the line between your breasts before he suddenly gasped against your skin, while you were amused by his reaction as your hand fondled his erection through his pants. His gaze shifted to your face, his lips forming a straight line as if to tell you that he will get you back for that.

He kept his eyes on your face as he very quickly closed his lips over one of your nipples, sucking harshly while he pinched and pulled the other, startling you and causing moans to slip out of your mouth. Scaramouche smirked as he began to lick, flicking your nipple with his tongue as you gripped onto his hair, squirming. You arched your back as he opened his mouth wider to not only suck on your nipple, but some of the area around your nipple as well. Your movements of pressing your tit further against his mouth only challenged Scaramouche to fit as much as he can, as his saliva began to dribble under your tit. He let go with a wet pop, admiring the way your nipple was glistening with his saliva, all swollen and sensitive. He glanced back to your face, looking into your eyes as his finger poked your wet nipple. You grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your nipple, trembling as you managed to breathe out. “It’s too sensitive…” You said as you covered your other nipple with your hand, knowing that he was going to treat it the same way.

Scaramouche lightly chuckled. “Hey… You’re the one who urged me to take a break. All this studying makes me stressed out, so…” he pinned your hands behind you as he continued, “I need your body to relieve my mind.” As he went to press his tongue against your untouched nipple, you twisted your body to the side, attempting to avoid his mouth. He growled in response. “Quit moving around like that or I’ll bite.” He threatened unseriously, trying to make you listen to his instructions but the sound of his growl had only excited you further as wetness pooled between your legs. However you decided to let him have his way, as Scaramouche moaned against your nipple when his lips made contact. He once again sucked roughly as you squirmed and trembled, trying to free your hands from his grip. He attempted to fit your tit into his mouth as much as he could as he played around your nipple with his tongue. If he continued his ministrations, it felt as if you could cum just from him playing with your tits…!

You sighed out of relief as Scaramouche finally pulled away from your breasts, admiring again at his work, as your tits were wet and messy with his saliva. “You look so good like this,” he whispered as he gazed at your swollen nipples. Scaramouche looked pleased with himself, then his eyes trailed downwards. “Of course, I must be neglecting something…” He flicked his gaze to your face. “Care to tell me?” Scaramouche asked as he then whispered your name.

“...Please,” with a shaky sigh you squeezed his hips with your legs again. Scaramouche finally let go of your hands as he pulled your outer clothing down and grabbed your knees to spread them apart. “Oh?” He murmured as he noticed the wet spot on your panties. “Mmh… enjoying yourself, weren’t you?” Scaramouche chuckled as pressed his lips against your inner thigh, kissing and sucking as you whined. He paused for a moment, as if thinking of something. “Hold on to me,” Scaramouche demanded. You complied and wrapped your limbs around his body as he proceeded to lift you up from the desk and set you on his bed. “I don’t want you making a mess near the books,” he muttered as he pushed you down, slotting himself between your legs, and grinding his clothed cock against your panties. “You feel so good…” he groaned blissfully as he continued to rub against you, causing your panties to stick to your pussy and the wet spot to spread. “So good…” he whispered in your ear. Scaramouche paused before hesitantly whispering again. “Good girl.”

You shivered when he whispered in your ear. “How unexp–,” you were cut off as he began to kiss you hungrily on the lips, thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth. Scaramouche kept his eyes open this time while making out with you, without you noticing as your eyes were shut, focusing on the feeling and texture of his tongue. His gaze, while normally strong, was soft as he kissed you, yet still a glaze of lust was evident in his eyes. He pulled away from your mouth and shuffled down your body, his indigo-blue eyes examining and memorising each and every curve, mark, spot, on your body until he hooked his fingers around your panties. Before he pulled them down, he met your gaze once again. “I do believe there is… one ‘fruit’ you have yet to serve me. Heh heh.” Scaramouche chuckled as he pulled your panties completely off. “Mmh… you smell good…” he remarked as he nudged his nose against your clit, causing you to immediately squeeze his head between your thighs. He groaned as he felt the soft skin of your inner thighs squishing his face, and he pressed his mouth against your slit as he mumbled into it. “This is the break I needed…” Scaramouche’s tongue poked and prodded at your opening, licking up all the slick, as he ran his tongue up and down your pussy. Your hands gripped onto his hair, tugging on it as you writhed in pleasure when he closed his lips around your clit and sucked. He didn’t mind how tightly you squeezed his head, after all he was a puppet who did not need to breathe.

Yet, it did bother him somewhat, as Scaramouche found it slightly difficult to thrust his tongue into your hole when your legs were closed around him. He pushed your thighs apart, by holding the back of your knees and pressing them against your chest, folding you however he wanted. “That’s better,” he mumbled as he dove right back into your pussy and shoved his tongue in, causing you to gasp and tremble as he moved his tongue in and out of your wet hole. As much as you wanted to watch him eat you out, your head was constantly thrown back due to the intense amount of pleasure he was giving you. Your orgasm was building strongly when Scaramouche decided to shift one of his hands from your thighs to your clit, instantly soaking his fingers in a mixture of your slick and his saliva, as he rubbed and played with your sensitivity while his tongue moved in and out of your pussy at a fast pace. His actions had only caused you to shake involuntarily as you began to chant his name while your eyes were glued to the ceiling. Scaramouche could tell you were on the very edge of a powerful orgasm when he began to mumble into your pussy. “Mmh…cum…cum…cum for me…cum on my face…I’ll keep…fucking you with my tongue…just…cum…!”

You pressed your palm over your mouth to cover up a loud moan as you squirted, the edges of your vision turning white as your climax washed over you, rendering you into a crying, shaking mess. Scaramouche could only watch your reaction in awe, as he was the one who made you react in such a hot way. His tongue slowly licked up your mess, as you quivered, trying to push his face away from your pussy. “Stop it… it's too much,” your voice sounded above a whisper while you glanced down at him. It seems you’ve made a bigger mess than you thought as you noticed your fluids on his face.

Scaramouche sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He sighed. “I guess you’re due for a break, huh?” He pulled you closer to him by your thighs. “You have five minutes,” he chuckled as he eagerly rubbed his cock on your sensitive pussy.

Also posted on AO3. Do not share, copy, translate.

Thank you for reading <3

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spamgyu · 3 months

Text

SVT VU - Orange Peel Theory // Drabble

orange peel theory is making it's rounds on local tiktok and twitter. this is my humorous take on how the VOCAL UNIT discuss/deal with the orange peel theory with their significant others.

[hhu] [pu - coming soon]

JEONGHAN

"thank you." she grinned up at him as he placed a plate of oranges in front of her. she had been nose deep in her laptop, trying to complete her last email of the week when he unsolicitedly placed the snack in front of her.

much like all other times he had done when she was far too busy with work to remember to eat.

jeonghan placed a kiss atop her head as she happily munched away on the snack, a sly smile slowly growing on his lips as she grabbed another slice.

"would YOU peel oranges for me?" jeonghan crossed his arms over his chest.

"yes?" his girlfriend was taken back by the sudden hostility.

all while she was preoccupied with her daily zoom meetings and endless emails, jeonghan had brain rotted away on his phone – stumbling upon videos of girls testing their men .... with oranges.

he didn't understand why this was up for debate, knowing he would peel millions of oranges if it meant making his girlfriend's day all the better.

but he also wanted to have fun; setting up his own phone away from her sight as he captured the video just for him to laugh at.

he always did enjoy messing with her.

JOSHUA

joshua sighed for the third time since they had sat on the couch.

which was only about 5 minutes ago.

he glanced over at her to see that she had yet to take notice of the sound he had made, this time letting out a much more dramatic sigh.

giggling, she finally had taken the hint; taking her eyes off the television and looking over at him. "yes, honey, can i help you?"

"everyone else's girlfriends are asking for oranges..." he pouted. "peeled."

joshua wasn't much to keep up with trends, let alone be chronically online the same way his members were. she didn't think he would be well aware of the current debate taking over social media – and frankly, she didn't care for it.

it was just an orange.

"did you want me to ask if you would peel an orange for me?" she asked with raised brows.

"duh..." he nodded. during today's practice, he had overheard seungcheol and mingyu exchange stories of how their significant others had tested them with the theory – the rest of the boys soon joining in. everyone else seemed to have their own share of stories... but him.

"i– it's hypothetical though. it's more of if you're willing to peel–" she watched as he pouted once again. "would you peel an orange for me?"

joshua grinned, digging into his hoodie's front pocket to pull out two oranges, a banana, and an apple.

"apple?"

"i'll use my teeth."

"no!" she cried, grabbing the fruit from him.

JIHOON

"have you guys heard of the orange peel theory?" soonyoung asked, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

she and jihoon shook their heads at their unsolicited guest who somehow managed to make himself a little too comfortable in their shared apartment; claiming that before she came along, he was jihoon's babygirl.

she didn't care to fight soonyoung over it; jihoon did enough of that himself.

"isn't that a gym?" jihoon quipped.

"that's orange theory, babe." y/n corrected, grabbing another shrimp from the middle of the table.

soonyoung always came over unannounced, but never empty handed – arriving today with seafood boil for all three of them to share.

"ah..." he nodded, taking the shrimp from y/n's plate – peeling it for her.

she was shit at peeling her own shrimp and jihoon was more than happy to make sure she didn't ruin her perfectly manicured nails.

soonyoung rolled his eyes at the couple who never stayed up to date with the latest internet trends. "sickening." he mumbled.

peeling shrimp was far more romantic than peeling oranges, anyways. but if anyone were to ask jihoon, he'd skin anything she asked him to.

including their unannounced guest.

SEOKMIN

he didn't exactly fail her humorous attempts to test him on the orange peel theory.

but he didn't pass either.

in his defense, she had asked him in the middle of the night – waking him from his slumber to ask if he would peel an orange for her, only to reply "tomorrow."

and he knew she wasn't mad. there was no reason to.

it was a silly tiktok she had seen while she scrolled next to her boyfriend who was deep asleep – practically shaking their walls with his loud snores.

but seokmin felt guilty after he had read the groupchat he had shared with his members, each of them sharing how their significant others had managed to bring up the hot debate topic circulating social media.

if he had known....

"babe... why is our fridge full of peeled oranges?" she laughed. she had originally gone into the kitchen to grab a drink only to be distracted by the lack of bottled waters.... and an abundance of orange filled tupperwares.

"i'm sorry."

glancing over her boyfriend who stood at the doorway of their kitchen, she let out another laugh – walking over to pull him into a hug. "did you peel all those?"

he nodded into her shoulder, making her giggle.

"i didn't take it personally."

"i did." he pulled away, bringing his fingers up to her face. "and now i smell like an orange."

SEUNGKWAN

"look what i brought!" he sang as he kicked off his sneakers, shaking the bag in his hand.

seungkwan had paid his family a visit, coming back from the tiny island just south of the mainland with various treats he enjoyed growing up.

including a bag of tangerines.

"ooooh!" she clapped, following him into the kitchen – digging into the bag of his mom's homecooking. "these are going to be so good. can you–"

before she could even finish her sentence, he had placed a peeled orange on top of one of the containers; a large smile on his face.

"thank you?" she reached for the fruit hesitantly; wary of the strange smile on his face.

"i'd peel oranges for you."

popping a slice in her mouth. "i know... thanks."

"any mundane thing, i'd do."

she nodded, still quite confused with his actions. "i know."

"just getting that out there." he clicked his tongue.

"okay... weirdo." y/n chewed.

seunkwan frowned at her reaction.

"i take it back." he snatched the fruit from her hand.

"hey!"

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#the babygirl unit getting their share of the orange peel theory #babygirl and sassy unit.......... sorry guys lol #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #dokyeom x reader #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seungkwan x reader #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #spamwrites

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ashishchauhan178 · 2 years

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Here are some healthy foods to eat, that you can add to your diet. These are the most Nutritious foods for vegan & Non-vegan. That is actually amazing for you. . . 👉 Click here to read the full Healthy Foods to Eat 📌 Save the post for later⁣⁣ ⁣⁣💡 Share it with your friends ✅ Follow for more

#diet n fit #healthy foods #vegetables #non veg #diet #health #healthy #hari nagar #chicken #apple #banana #fish

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softpawpup · 6 months

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snacks & drinks for littles 🧃

bananas

kiwis

peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

milk

mochi

strawberries

doughnuts

waffles

pears

apple juice

oranges

cereal

buttered noodles

dino nuggies

mac n cheese

tatter tots

pigs in a blanket

grilled cheese

lollipops

#agere #age regression #sfw agere #sfw #sfw age regression #sfw regression #sfw interaction only #sfw littlespace #sfw little community #agere blog #agere community #snacks #snacks for littles #snacks for agere #agere snacks

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shakespearesdaughters · 2 months

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“I will love you as a thief loves a gallery and as a crow loves a murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you as a battlefield loves young men and as peppermints love your allergies, and I will love you as the banana peel loves the shoe of a man who was just struck by a shingle falling off a house. I will love you as a volunteer fire department loves rushing into burning buildings and as burning buildings love to chase them back out, and as a parachute loves to leave a blimp and as a blimp operator loves to chase after it.

I will love you as a dagger loves a certain person’s back, and as a certain person loves to wear dagger proof tunics, and as a dagger proof tunic loves to go to a certain dry cleaning facility, and how a certain employee of a dry cleaning facility loves to stay up late with a pair of binoculars, watching a dagger factory for hours in the hopes of catching a burglar, and as a burglar loves sneaking up behind people with binoculars, suddenly realizing that she has left her dagger at home.

I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguised and until every home is rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods, and until every criminal is handcuffed by the laziest of policemen. I will love until M. hates snakes and J. hates grammar, and I will love you until C. realizes S. is not worthy of his love and N. realizes he is not worthy of the V. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple, and until the apple hates a tree and the tree hates a nest, and until a bird hates a tree and an apple hates a nest, although honestly I cannot imagine that last occurrence no matter how hard I try.

I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively.

I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and now matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this.” ― Lemony Snicket

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

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You Fell First But He Fell Harder (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Grocery shopping with Joel and Sarah went wrong as you came across his ex-wife.

Words count: 1k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 4 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm beyond happy that many of you liked it so I hope you enjoy the next parts. Stay tuned and love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

You and Joel’s playing house was getting real. From three dinners a week to five dinners a week to seven dinners a week. Every night you spent with Joel and Sarah. You even ran errands for him and Sarah like buying diapers, baby stuff and groceries. But today, he offered to go grocery shopping with you.

“Got the list?” Joel asked as he put Sarah to sit on the shopping cart.

“Let’s get the baby stuff first. We need baby food, diapers..” You read the list written on the piece of paper in your hand.

“Okay.” Joel pushed the shopping cart beside you.

“This one?” Joel grabbed a baby diaper from the cabinet.

“Yep, that one.” You nodded and Joel put it in the shopping cart.

*Sarah babbled*

“You’re bored, huh?” You caressed her head.

“Apples or bananas?” You showed two different baby food to Sarah.

“Bananas.” Joel answered while he was looking at some stuff at the cabinet.

“I’m not asking you. I’m asking Sarah.” You scoffed.

“Oh..She gets to choose her food?” Joel looked at you and raised his eyebrows.

“Freedom of speech.” You smirked.

“You’re funny.” Joel scoffed and shook his head.

Sarah babbled and her hand moved to the banana flavored baby food.

“Bananas it is.” You put the baby food inside the shopping cart.

“I think she has your taste.” You bumped Joel’s arm.

“That’s my girl.” Joel kissed his baby daughter’s head.

“Okay, let’s get some veggies! Choo Choo!” You pushed the shopping cart a bit fast and Sarah giggled.

Joel followed you from behind and laughed at your actions. For a moment, he wished you were the one whom he married and had a baby with. He was blessed to have you and see you making his baby happy. He smiled and imagined it. Until he saw Sarah’s mom, he put a frown on his face and sighed. You looked at him as he stopped.

“What is it?” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s her.”

You looked in front of you and saw someone approaching the three of you. It was a woman and a man. The woman looked familiar.

“Hi, Joel.” The woman waved her hand awkwardly.

“Hi.” Joel answered coldly.

“Hi, babygirl.” She walked to get closer to Sarah.

Joel dragged back the shopping cart protectively so she couldn’t go closer.

“Joel, I’m sorry.” She apologized.

“I see you’re happy now.” He looked at the man beside her.

She sighed. You just stayed quiet. This wasn’t your business to meddle in.

“I guess you’re happy too.” She looked at you.

“Did you get the papers I sent you?” The woman asked Joel.

Joel scoffed. You saw him clenched his fist holding the shopping cart. So you put your hand on top of his and stroked his hand with your thumb while your other hand rested on his shoulder.

“Let’s go, honey.” You stroked his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you in court.” Joel said goodbye to Sarah’s mom.

“See you in court, Joel.” They parted ways.

Then, the three of you went home. Joel was quiet the whole way home and you didn’t ask him a thing. You understood they were talking about divorce papers. And you knew it made him angry.

“Thank you for today.” He thanked you while parking his car in the driveway.

“Anytime. We had a pact, remember?” You smiled.

“I guess it works? We’re even now.” He forced a smile and frowned again.

Joel moved the groceries from the car to his house and you carried Sarah inside. Before you walked out the door to go home, you remembered Sarah hadn’t pooped yet. It had been 45 minutes since her last feed and you remembered this baby massage thing you read.

“I forgot something.” You stopped half way.

“What?” Joel closed the door.

“Sarah hasn’t pooped.” You walked back to her room.

“That’s a problem?” Joel asked.

“Yeah. I learned about this baby massage to help them fart. Can I try?” You asked Joel for permission.

“Of course. You’re the master.” He let you.

You laid Sarah on the bed and let her get a comfortable position. Before you started, you took a deep breath in and out. You started with a slow and gentle massage of her tummy, you could feel it was full of gas. You massaged her little tummy again up and down with a gentle press.

*baby farted*

“Oh! Good girl!” You praised her as you giggled.

Joel's eyes widened. He was amazed at you. He wondered how you knew about this trick. You were not even her mom but you did a lot of research. Joel adored you.

After a few rubs on the tummy, you pumped her legs back and forth and she let out a cute fart again and again. The last one was loud but really cute.

*baby farted*

“That was a good one, baby.” You laughed.

Joel tried not to laugh but he couldn’t hold it. He finally burst into laughter as he heard his baby farted a big one. He laughed so hard holding his stomach. His jaw probably hurt from laughing too hard.

“You laughed.” You were relieved looking at Joel finally getting his happy face back.

“I’m proud of you, sweet girl. You just made your daddy laugh.” You snuggled your face to her tummy and shook your head.

“I’ve been thinking of ways to get your smile back. Mission accomplished.” You crossed your arms to your chest and put on a proud face.

"You-" Joel wanted to say something but he stopped.

“Thank you.” Joel smiled and looked at you.

His heart beat faster and he felt butterflies when he heard you said that. You didn’t only care about his daughter but you also cared about him. He suddenly saw sparkles around you and he blinked again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You were always beautiful in his eyes. But tonight, you were even more beautiful. He realized he just fell in love with the woman in front of him. His neighbor. You. Yes, Joel Miller was falling in love with you.

To be continued...

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @param8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr

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haruhar-u · 6 months

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“A rose upon you”

Rook x g/n reader, fluff

A/N: damn this is finished earlier than I thought it’s be finished. I did struggle to write his dialogue so I apologize if it’s ooc

edited but not beta read

The first day, it was a red rose that smells vaguely of apples. Then it was a box of your favourite chocolates. The rose had a velvety garnet bow with gold trim around the edges. In gold embroidery was the initial "R.H." Seriously, who is this admirer of yours? You sat on the couch in Ramshackle’s lounge, holding the two items in your hands. Oh, Ace was there too. Your flaming tuna cat and Deuce were out buying snacks at Sam’s.

"Oooh,” Ace cooed at you in a teasing manner, almost like when in elementary school a boy and a girl get called to the board together, or even in the same group, for that matter.

“Shut up.” You elbowed Ace in the ribcage, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to get the message at least. You looked closely at the ribbon around the rose, softly tracing your finger over the embroidered initials. Ugh. Everything this person did made your heart race. You weren’t even sure you could think straight.

“Yo, look.” Ace pointed out the embroidered initials. "Obviously, that could be Rook Hunt…..he’s the only one crazy enough to do this anyway.”

Rook Hunt….? The vice of Pomefiore. You will admit the two of you have gotten oddly close as of recently. He’d always try to help you with your work and would suggest you two go to the oddest places together. Such as the woods. At 3am. Why????

“I’m gonna go on a….walk?” You tell Ace and get off the couch and put on your fuzzy jacket and boots. You all but gently open the door. The icy winter air blasts on your face as you step out, snow crunching under your boot.

You don’t have to trek out much further until you hear someone call out “mon trickster” from the bushes. At this point, you’re not going to question why he was in your bushes in the first place.

“Were you the one behind... well, all this?" You ask bluntly, approaching him with the rose in hand. He steps out to hold the rose in his hand, gazing at the ribbon.

“Of course it was me. I thought you needn’t have to put much thought into it!!” He says all dramatically. “-Name- do you accept my confession of love??”

Your name instead of a nickname in French?! Does that mean he’s more serious than you originally thought? You take a moment to think about it. After all that happened in Styx, the Pomefiore vice was with you every step of the way. He always made sure to check on you to make sure you’re okay, both physically and mentally. Sometimes it’d be by tapping on your window at 3 a.m., but that was his way of showing affection. “I do.” You say when you finally come to an agreement with yourself.

“Magnifique!” He grabs your hand abruptly, causing your heart to skip a beat. “I have so much for you to witness.” He pulls you off into the nearby forest, presumably to read you some poetry. The snow-capped trees looked a lot more inviting with him by your side. Forever and always.

Taglist : @xen-blank @krenenbaker @edith-is-apparently-a-cat @whspermy-name @the-banana-0verlord

#rook hunt #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x mc #rook twst #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #Brief appearance of ace trappola

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carolmunson · 8 months

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it's like sugar sometimes.

(older!modern!dad!eddie)

welcome back to the: orange colored sky setlist a/n: this can be read as a stand alone, give or take some references. but as a pre-cursor: you and eddie are about twelve years apart, meeting in late twenties early thirties, his late thirties early forties. you're deeply in love and we're fast forwarding a bit and now you have a kid. shout out to my nephew because without countless videos of him being the same age as the baby in this fic i would not now how babies baby. cw: pure fluff. pure dad eddie goodness. pretty tame. some mild arguing and swearing. some saucy kisses at the end. a new entry for the fall frenzy extravaganza. this fall frenzy is in honor of @jo-harrington who said i could do whatever, so here we are lmao.

songspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) | james taylor

The ride to the orchard is going much better than you were expecting after such a rough morning. Tears from the moment Gwen came into your room just before four in the morning because she had a bad dream. Then it was too hot for her in bed with both of you, then she was too cold, then Ed’s snoring kept you both awake until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Then there was the kicking and stretching and rolling around. Aren’t they supposed to sleep like logs? She just turned three. Ed woke up refreshed, frowning when he turned over to see you sitting up against the headboard reading with puffy tired eyes. “Hey,” he says softly as to not wake Gwen who was curled up into his side, “She come in last night?” “Another bad dream,” you shrug, looking at him over your book, “I don’t know if she’s really having them or if she’s just starting to have a little regression period. Maybe we can get her a new night light or something.” “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a little and I’ll get her ready,” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep, “I’ll just take her into the shower with me.” You smile lazily at him and nod, looking over at the clock on his night stand – a little past six. Maybe an extra forty-five would do you some good before you went to the orchards upstate. Gwen’s eyes open up to her dad awake, her face contorting when she sees him. “Had a bad dweam,” she sniffles, reaching her arms out. “Poor Gwen, you had a bad dream?” Eddie coos, pulling her up out of bed with him, “Tell me all about it, angel.” Her babbles echo down the hall even after Ed closes the door behind them.

Piercing sobs woke you up instead of your alarm, though that went off right after to remind you that there’s a whole day you have to start. You rub your eyes and groan, sliding out of bed and stepping into your slippers. You grab your robe, shrugging it on as you leave the bedroom and wincing while another cry pours out of your toddler and goes straight to your chest. “I know, honey, I know,” you hear Eddie soothe, “But we’re gonna go do something so fun. You wanna go pick a pumpkin, right?” “No pumpki-i-in,” she sobs, deep and guttural. You open the door to her room slowly, a very teary Gwen stands in the corner, hair wet in a new set of pajamas. You look at Eddie, pulling out an outfit for her and laying it on her toddler bed. “What’s goin’ on, in here?” you ask gently. “Gwen doesn’t wanna get dressed to go apple picking,” Eddie says quietly, “She wants to watch Blue’s Clues.” “Wan’ see Bl-blue, mommy,” she sobs, “Pwease.” “Hey, hey,” you try your best to settle her, “Thank you for saying please, honey. We can still see Blue but daddy has to get you dressed first.” “Did she eat?” you ask, pulling Gwen up to your hip while she cries into your shoulder. “Yeah, she had some mini waffles and a banana,” he opens her closet and fishes out a tiny pair of Chuck’s to go with her outfit – a little black sweatshirt screen printed with the Halloween movie poster paired with a set of leggings meant to look like jeans. “Did you eat?” you smile, coming over to him to plant a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, her leftovers,” he laughs, “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter.” “Thank you,” you nudge him, feeling Gwen squirm and whine while she tries to shimmy down from your hip, “Okay, okay.” “Gwen, please,” Eddie begs with a twinge of frustration in his voice when she makes it to the door, on her tiptoes to reach the handle, “Let’s just get you dressed and you can watch Blue’s Clues while we do your hair.” She stomps, wet curls bouncing with her when she does, “Wanna watch now, pwease!” “Thank you for asking nicely Gwen, but that doesn’t always mean you get your way,” he explains. She shrieks, loud enough that your eyes squint, stomping again onto the fluffy white carpet below her, “I wanna watch Blue’s Cwue’s!” “Why don’t you take a deep breath for me, huh?” Eddie asks her, he pats your lower back on the way to the door. A silent way of letting you know to just go get yourself ready, he can handle the rest, “Do we need to take a time out?” “No time out,” she starts to cry again when you slip out of the room. More frustrated whines and wails boom down the hall, dissipating while you make it down the metal staircase to the coffee on the counter. Your heart swells when you notice that he already emptied and reloaded the dishwasher.

After you’ve packed some snacks for later and gotten yourself dressed, you make your way back upstairs. You approach the bathroom with your coffee in hand, Gwen’s sippy cup full of water in the other. Her bubbly squeals respond back to whoever is talking to her, barely looking up from Eddie’s phone to look at you when you open the door.

“Who’re you talking to, miss girl?” you ask, putting her sippy cup next to her on the bathroom counter. “Steeb,” she says, eyes glued to the screen, much happier than she was before. “She’s watching 90s Blue’s Clues?” you laugh at your husband who’s busy splitting her Gwen’s hair into a middle part, looking in the mirror that she’s sat in front of. “No, she’s FaceTiming with Steve,” he shakes his head, pulling one section back into a high pigtail. “Hi peach!” Steve’s voice rings from the phone, he lowers it back down to parentese to address Gwen, “Is that mommy? Can you say hi to her for me?” “Steeb say hi,” Gwen says, lifting the phone up, showing the screen to the ceiling of the bathroom. You take the phone for a second, seeing Steve’s annoyed face in the frame.

“You’re on thin ice,” he says, his fiancee’s laugh ringing out of frame, “I can’t believe you’re going this week when we’ll be there in two. You always go before we come to visit.” “There will be plenty of apple picking trips to do together when we move, I promise,” you assure, “She starts gymnastics and swimming next weekend, we won’t have another time to do it.”

“Gymnastics?” he asks, “Does she have tights? Leotards? What can I get her?”

“She has like, I don’t know Steve – forty leotards? She’s gonna grow out of half of them in six weeks,” you explain, “Don’t worry, your husband got it covered.” Eddie snickers, wrapping an elastic around one of the ponytails in his fingers. “Well if she’s gonna grow out of them then she’ll need more,” he scoffs, “I’ll get some sent over.”

“You’re impossible,” your eye roll is something Steve is just as used to as Eddie is. Gwen whines again, reaching for the phone with grabby hands, a quiet ‘Steeby’ escaping her. “I can hear her asking for me, gimme back to my girl,” he sighs. You hand the phone back to Gwen who giggles when Steve makes a funny face at her through the screen. “Look how pretty those ponytails are. Daddy did such a good job,” Steve coos at her. “We payin’ be-yoo-dee sawon,” Gwen explains. Eddie looks up at you, whispering ‘Can you grab her bows for me?’ You nod, reaching into the bottom drawer to snatch a basket full of bows, holding them out to him while he picks.

“Beauty salon,” Eddie corrects softly, “Orange or black bows?” “Bwack,” she says, waving him off like you do when you’re busy, “I’m on da phone, daddy.” “Yeah,” you say, meeting her sass, “She’s on the phone, daddy.”

He lets a ‘pfff’ push out of his lips while he grabs two black bows from last halloween, little sparkly spider webs parked in the center. You leave them to it, heading down to get the car packed up and make sure you have Gwen’s bag set up before you leave.

Despite the dramatics, the ride is going well. Gwen happily eats an apple sauce packet in her carseat while the two of you sip on coffees and eat breakfast sandwiches from a drive thru off the highway. It’s nice to get out of the city for a while and get Gwen used to the idea of not being in it anymore. The drive consists mostly of James Taylor’s greatest hits because Gwen is her Grandpa Wayne’s baby before she’s anyone else’s. She hums along to Carolina and sings only the chorus of Mexico. Her favorite song is Mockingbird even though it’s Carly Simon featuring James Taylor. The two of you throw it on the record player every other day to sing it to her, even if she doesn’t ask for it. It’s selfishly your favorite song, too, just ‘cause you get to see your husband play along with you. “And if that better way ain't so, I'll ride with the tide and go with the flow, And that's why, I keep on shoutin' in your ear, Saying (yeah, yeah) whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-oh.” You lean your head back on the passenger’s side to make eye contact with Gwen through the visor mirror who giggles back at you. She mimics your ‘whoa-whoa-whoa’, shimmying in her carseat with her shoulders. Gwen’s no stranger to shimmying, always finding some way to dance off beat to Ed’s music when he plays at a venue she can be at or practices at home. His number one fan.

“Oh-wange twees, mommy,” Gwen says, tiny finger pointing out the window at the foliage lining the road. “I see them, aren’t they pretty Gwen?” you nod back at her. Eddie’s head turns slightly to watch her watch the trees, eyes shining at each change of color hits her. His heart beats a little quicker knowing she’s able to make those distinctions between orange, red, and yellow – too smart, getting too big. “Daddy’s git-tah,” she yelps, pointing hard at a tree covered in dark red leaves while Eddie slowly turns down the entrance of the orchard. Gwen lets out a tiny ‘woah’ when the car jostles that makes him laugh, he wishes she’d stay this little forever. “Yeah, that’s the same color as daddy’s guitar, good job sweetheart,” he smiles back at her, “Are you ready to pick some apples so we can make Uncle Stevie a pie for when he visits?” “Ya!” She nods, happy and excited. She doesn’t know what he said, but whenever he talks to her with a smile she’ll do whatever he asks and vice versa. Still ‘sort of rockstar’, definitely ‘meant to be father’. Parking is less of a nightmare than expected since it’s early in the day – most families come after the first morning nap, at least that’s what the mom groups told you on Facebook. Gwen hardly naps anymore, but you won’t be surprised if she knocks out earlier than usual tonight. Eddie gets the backpack full of Gwen’s essentials and you grab the baby. “I have to carry you through the parking lot, babe,” you say when she starts to bounce in your arms, eager to run on the grass in her sneakers. “Wanna walk, please,” she begs, her hands on your cheeks while you make your way towards the entrance. “You can walk when we get inside but there’s lots of cars out here and no stop lights,” you say, batting her hand out of your hair when she reaches for it, “I’ll put you down in a little bit.” “You think we should take the stroller?” Ed asks from the trunk. “They have wagons, we can just pull her around,” you shrug, “I don’t think the back up stroller is good for this kind of place, we’d need the one at home.” Eddie shrugs, joining you on your walk to the entrance to get your empty bag and your wagon, putting Gwen at the back as you get to the trees. “Walk, please,” she begs again. You hesitate, it’s just too big of a place and she’s a runner, “Honey, I would love it if you–” “Let her walk,” Eddie says, “She’ll get bored after a few minutes and wanna watch anyway, just let her walk.” “Come here Gwen, hold my hand,” he says, offering a tattooed hand to her pudgy one. She clumsily crawls out of the wagon, bouncing over to her dad to put her hand in his. He pulls her up once, making her squeal and giggle as she floats next to him. “More, more!” she laughs, letting Eddie swing her ahead a few more times while you all make your way through the trees.

She likes apple picking more than you expected, arms up constantly to be lifted onto the branches to grab some off of every few trees. Gwen had a good eye, better than you and Eddie, for super crisp ones – pointing up and jumping to get at them. If she was a little bigger you wouldn’t be surprised if she climbed up the trees with the ease of a jungle cat. Your husband encouraged it, climbing up the branches like he was still twenty – sitting with his legs dangling off and having you pass your toddler to him. “Please be careful,” you warn, passing her up to him. “Babe, I know what I’m doing,” he scowls, a hint annoyed before changing his expression for Gwen when he helps her onto the low branch with him. “You don’t have to be a jerk, I just want her to be safe,” you snap back. “And I’m keeping her safe,” he says with a smile as to keep your daughter none-the-wiser. Still looking at Gwen while she reaches for another apple. She hands it to Eddie who hands it to you, your fingers brush. “Sorry,” he says, looking down at you, “I’ll be careful. We’re not very high, but you’re right. I’ll be careful.” “Thank you,” you nod, taking the apple and pressing a ghost of a kiss to his knuckles. He blushes red, red, red. Red like the leaves, red like his guitar. “Why s’pink, daddy?” Gwen asks, passing him another apple. “I just love mommy very much, honey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss into her hair, “She makes me turn pink like a heart.” “Like on da phone,” she says, clinging to him like a koala when he slides down off the low branch with her. “Yes, like on the phone,” he nods. You’re not Peach 🍑 in his phone anymore. You’re The Wife 💗. Right now he’s Gwen’s Dad in your phone because you got in an argument two months ago and haven’t changed it back to Rockstar Husband 🎸❣️because ‘Gwen’s Dad’ makes you laugh too much. He hates it. “How you like them apples, G?” you ask when Eddie puts her down in the wagon, she looks up at you confused and shrugs; brown curly pigtails bouncing at she does. “Kids today,” you shake your head at Eddie while you press onward, “No culture.”

“No culture,” he agrees enthusiastically.

You peruse, the bags you bought are filled to the brim with apples. Some red, some green, a few yellow so Gwen can try them and see if she likes them. It’s a calming walk, the chatter of other families, the squeaky roll of the wagon, the rustle of the trees when the early autumn wind catches them. Eddie holds your hand loosely, always needing to keep touching you in some way, always wanting to keep you close to him. You look back, Gwen going between looking around at the other families and playing with her V-Tech phone. Eddie goes from walking slow to speeding up to make the wagon jostle just to hear Gwen’s giggles peal through the trees. After about an hour of walking and picking, you’re about as pooped as your toddler should be. Once you get to the tree line you see the farm and market down at the base of the hill, a little relieved that you’ve all made it to the end of the road unscathed.

That is, until Gwen climbs out of the wagon when it comes to a stop and without warning, books it towards the edge.

“Gwendolyn Rose!” Eddie’s call is rough and loud out of fear, but it sounds like anger. Gwen stops short, startled, falling backwards onto the seat of her leggings. Like clockwork the first whine starts, building up into a needy, sad wail. You know they’re crocodile tears so you keep your pace with the wagon behind you. Your husband however, despite the constant reminder that she knows he’s easy, rushes forward without a second thought. “Oh no, my baby girl, shh, shh. I’m sorry,” he coos, reaching down to hoist her up onto his hip, “I didn’t mean to yell, sugar. You just got daddy scared is all. I’m not mad.” Gwen wipes her face, pushing away tears that never fell, sniffling and hiding her face in his neck. He rubs her back while she settles, guilt tugging on the lines between his brows.

“No baby girl,” Gwen pouts, “I’m big girl.”

“Oh that’s right, you’re my big girl,” Eddie grins, kissing her cheek. She’s not amused, frowning down at him while she pushes up against his shoulder to squirm out of his hold. “That’s a very grumpy face, Gwenny,” you giggle. “Hey, are you mad at me?” he asks up at her before popping her back down onto her feet at the edge of the tree line, “Why’re you lookin’ so mad?”

“I’m big,” she announces, little foot stomping on the grass below her. Eddie lets a sigh out through his nose and kneels down to her level. She takes several deep breaths and you both know it’s the beginning of what could be a very long second tantrum of the day. “I know, you’re a very big girl,” he nods, “But what do mommy and daddy say you have to do when we don’t have you in the stroller?” “Hode hands,” she repeats back in a whine. “That’s right, we hold hands – and if we’re not holding your hand you’re supposed to stay close, right?” He watches her nod, tucking a finger under her chin to make sure she’s absorbing what he’s saying. Her lower lip juts out, cheeks puffing while her shoulders sulk. “I walk by - by mysewf,” she urges, sniffling, “Pwease.” “Not today, sugar. I’m sorry,” he sighs, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I have a fun idea, do you wanna get on daddy’s shoulders and you can tell us how far we are from the farm?” She brightens up a little, giggling when he reaches down to tickle her sides before scooping her up to lift over his shoulders. He groans the way old men groan when they lift something and you stifle a laugh, smiling up at Gwen when she smiles down at you. “Hi mommy,” she beams, waving her tiny hand. “Hi baby,” wave back lazily, the shoddy sleep you had last night starting to settle into your eyes. “Do you see the farm, Gwenny?” Eddie asks, she nods enthusiastically, “Maybe we can go get you a donut, how does that sound? Will that make you happy?”

“Ed,” you click your tongue, “She’s never gonna get to sleep later.” “We’re making memories, babe,” Eddie says, reaching up to hold Gwen’s hands to keep her steady, “Some extra sugar won’t hurt her.”

“Yeah, you love extra sugar, don’t you?” you laugh.

“Matter of fact, I do,” he smirks, shooting you a wink. He laughs when he sees two of those twelve foot Home Depot skeletons posed outside the front of the market, promoting their haunted hayride with signs and other silly decor, “Shit, that’s fuckin’ metal – s’ridiculous.”

“S’dic-yoo-liss,” Gwen repeats. “S’ridiculous, Gwennifer!” Eddie repeats back in concurrence. “Sss’tick-you-luss,” she bounces, laughing when he laughs. They have the same one, though his has years on hers, gruff with age, with cigarette stains.

Pumpkins get picked, warm donuts devoured, the morning finally feels like it’s coming to a close. You park Gwen down at a picnic table while Eddie goes to get the goods, hanging out with your threenager who can barely keep her eyes open. You’re thankful you still have the wagon because there was no way you’d be able to carry all of it back to the car. Caramel apples, cider donuts, three gallons of apple cider, honey sticks, pumpkin pie, and anything else Eddie thought was good enough to bring home for the season weight heavy in the brown paper bags in his arms. He comes back sheepishly, biting his lower lip when you look at the bags and then at him.

“Hm,” you hum pointedly.

“I just really like fall flavors, peach,” he shrugs, “And the old lady at the front was so sweet telling me about the deals I couldn’t not get everything.” “You’re such a sucker,” you laugh with a roll of your eyes, “You ready to head out?” He nods, ticking his forehead at Gwen whose cheek is smushed against your chest, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, “Looks like this pumpkin’s ready to go.”

“She’s out,” you say softly, brushing her hair away from her face, “Lasted five minutes on my lap.”

“Let me get a picture to send to Steve,” he says low enough that it doesn’t wake her, “The background is perfect.” “Ed you have a thousand pictures of her from today,” you complain. “Shh, shh, come on,” he smiles, taking out his phone – you know he’s only snapping Gwen by the way he lowers the camera to your lap. He puts the bags in the wagon while you slowly stand with her wrapped around your front. You wait at the entrance for him to pull the car around, leaving the wagon behind. She doesn’t wake up when you pop her back in the car seat, slowly rolling out of the parking lot with the rest of the afternoon in your wake.

“I got her a little gourd painting kit, somewhere in those bags,” he says, “She can make some decorations.” “Oh she’ll love that,” you nod, peeking at her sleeping face in the visor mirror again, “I’ll do it with her before dinner.”

He pulls in slowly at a stop sign, hand reaching out to snake into yours, pulling it to his lips to bless you with soft kisses on the back of your hand.

“Thanks for such a good day, baby,” he murmurs.

“You’re very welcome.”

Later on, just before dinner, Eddie hears a tiny knock on his office door paired with two giggles from his favorite girls.

“Yes?” he calls out. The door creeps open and he hears you whisper, ‘Ask ‘Are you busy, daddy?’

“You busy, daddy?” Gwen pipes up. He shuts his computer, moving away from the two additional screens. “No, honey, never too busy for you,” he smiles, creases by his eyes showing up through his glasses, “Do you have something to show me?”

“Yeah,” she nods, pulling on your hand to pull you into the room. He uses the same candles he always has, deep spice, like his cologne. Warm like the way he holds you. Still in his hunter green Dickie’s overalls from this morning.

You give Gwen her little pumpkin that she painted to present to her dad, beaming with excitement while he looks it over.

“Such a good job, Gwenny,” he coos, “Are these –”

“I did bats,” she grins, finger touching the sparkly black sort of bats adorning the outside. Covered in glitter and sequins, falling onto his office floor.

“You did bats? For Halloween?” he asks. You shake your head no, smiling big when Gwen goes on to explain.

“No cause, daddy, cause you have bats,” she hurriedly explains, “Issa daddy pum-kin.” She reaches to his left arm, pointing at the bat tattoos on the inside when he was a kid. She runs her finger over them, “See, bats like daddy.”

“That’s so sweet, honey,” he coos, “Is it for me?” “Yeah,” she squeaks, “For here.” “For your office,” you say for her, trying not to giggle when his eyes shine with tears. She could give him a piece of trash and he’d cry over it, “‘Cause you have so many Halloween decorations in here.” He laughs, looking around at all the tour posters he has from bands he’s seen over the years – to a three year old they probably are a little scary. “And what did you say it was when you were done, Gwen?” you ask, “What did you say daddy would think the pumpkin was?” “Fucking med-oh,” she giggles. “Oh my god,” he sighs, thumb and forefinger immediately going to temples. “Fucking metal,” you repeat back him, knowingly, “Wonder where she got that.”

He tries not to laugh when he looks down at Gwen, “Don’t say that word, baby, that’s a bad word.” “Sowwy,” she whispers. “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he grins, pulling her in to kiss her all over. She shrieks the way babies shriek when they’re excited and runs out of the office toward her bedroom at the end of the hall. You turn to go after her before feeling Eddie’s hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he says quietly in your ear, you shiver, “Remember when you said I like a little extra sugar?”

Your cheeks burn hot, turning to him, “I do.” He leans in slow, lips capturing yours in a way that they only do when you both get to be alone, “Don’t forget to keep givin’ me some.” “I won’t,” you murmur back, letting him kiss you deeply one more time before pressing a slow kiss to your favorite place under the hinge of your jaw, “You’re bold, Munson.” He shrugs, breaking away, “Needed somethin’ sweet.”

As if he isn't sweet enough. Eddie spends the rest of the night looking up ways to preserve a painted gourd.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

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