Moonstruck ⟡ HS

12!

"Don't make me regret my decision."

"I'll even tell him, if you want me to." He suggests with a playful smirk, "Hey, um, so I know you know me from the guy across the street, but to your daughter, I'm the guy in her sheets—"

"Harry, cut it out!" She hisses, cheeks as red as raspberries with her lips tugged into a ghost of a smile, scorn to laugh at his antics, albeit he knew she was amused deep down inside.

"'m sorry, J, how about this one: you might've been her Daddy for the past eighteen years, but 'm gonna take over from here—ow!" He gingerly laughs with a flinch when feeling her nimble fingers reach under the table to pinch him through his pants. "I know you wanna get in my pants, kitten, but that's no way to do so."

"I swear, they must've spiked your drink or something . . ." She mumbles and shakes her head, although the smile on her lips lets him know exactly how she feels. "but really, if I tell my Dad about us, I hope it goes well. He was so against me dating Derek for a long time—"

"Well, yeah. He looks like a bitch." He remarks, earning a look from her that sends his playful attitude diminishing. "It's gonna be fine, alright? Smooth as fuck, I promise. He's a cool dude, wish he was my Dad, if 'm honest—but really, babe, if he knows we're spending time together and had an issue with it, he would've expressed it a while ago."

"You're right." She slowly nods, only before watching him reach across the table to steal a sip of her drink. "But I mean, for starters, don't call yourself Daddy in front of my father."

"And everywhere else?" He quips once swallowing down the stolen lemonade that he wanted to taste from her mouth too.

    "We'll see, we'll see." Her mumbled response sends his head wildly spinning, tilting his head to the side as he studies her and gets a good idea of how the filthy pet name would sound spilling from her swollen lips. Daddy. He would be a bold faced liar if he said he hadn't given it thought, ever since the first time he dove between her legs to get a sweet taste of her soul, he had been dying to hear the name fall from her tongue, knowing it would sound so much nastier coming from her than from the last random girl he fucked. Granted, he couldn't even remembered what that girl looked like, especially when Josephine took so much space up in his mind that seemed to be nonrefundable. "Wait, you're okay with that, right?"

    "With being called Daddy?" He clarifies with a twitch to his brows, "I mean, you can call me anything you want, but I'd very much enjoy it if you—"

    "No, with me telling my Dad." She shakes her head, waving off his antics, and a sense of seriousness falls on to them like an invisible weight.

    "I've got no problem, whatever you want." He says, because in actuality, no one really matters nor do their opinions, including Josephine's father. "Enough talking about that shit, you feeling up for a little fun once we're outta here?"

    "What kind of fun do you have in mind?" In her effervescent eyes, he can see where her head is at, wanting his own between her legs, and while he has every intention of ending up there sometime within the day, it's not what he had planned.

It was on Monday when he heard of the town's annual Fall Festival, hearing his co-workers bitch and complain about having to take their significant others there, although with how they were speaking, these women didn't seem to be very significant to them. But he blocked that out, because while he was always more than content to have Josephine rolling around in his sheets and eating out of his refrigerator, he had a feeling she wants more than that. Their relationship was anything but orthodox, stemming from unusual circumstances and fascinating odds that had his mind spinning every day, but what he did know was Josephine, and Josephine likes corny ass shit . . . like something called a Fall Festival.