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eccentricwritingbaby · 3 months

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baby finn series, preparations

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - lando and y/n begin their quest to prepare for their baby on the way, while their first baby is just happy to be included.

masterlist

“baby? do you have everything?” you called out to your three year old, attempting to teach him some independence with his attire, yet regretting it instantly. finn walked into your view wearing a bright red ferrari t shirt, purple shorts, mismatched socks, and a papaya mclaren baseball cap to top off the look.

“well don’t you look dashing?” your husband laughs out from behind you towards his son.

“tank you, dada!” finn happily screeches back, “i pick it by myself!”

“you did?!” lando fakes his surprise to the young boy, holding his chest and raising his eyebrows for the emphasis, “you’re such a big boy, finn!”

“i am! i big like you dada!” finn jumps at the praise and begins to clap, excited by the attention and thrill of being compared to his father. you couldn’t help but join in on the laughs and allow finn to go out as he was dressed, even though you really wanted him to be a bit more coordinated - you couldn’t be bothered with the day ahead of you.

you and lando were preparing the nursery today, and the first stop was shopping. although you had the large items such as the crib and changing station from finn, you wanted this baby to also have newer items and ones that were their own. especially since after finn grew out of most of his things, lando had just donated them in order to clear up space in the home.

there was also another reason - the sex of the baby. you and lando had found out yesterday, and wanted a fresh nursery.

yesterday - doctor’s office

you were lying back in the chair, gown on and ready for your ultrasound. lando’s hand had not left yours since getting out of the car on the way in. his grip was tight, as was your own. you were both riddled with nerves to find out the gender today.

“i’m so excited,” you squeak out in a whisper to your husband, giggles filling your voice due to the butterflies filling your stomach.

“me too, y/n. i hope it’s a girl,” he breathes out, joining in your quiet laughter, attempting to tame the nerves.

“i think it will be, i had a dream two nights ago with a pink nursery in it,” you relay back to him, lando just stares back at you with a wide smile, a hand coming up slowly to stroke your stomach.

and it was a girl. a strong, healthy girl the doctor said would be the size of a bell pepper at five months along. you and lando were absolutely giddy for the shopping trip and so was finn. to welcome little baby girl norris into this world in a few months was all the buzz in the home. finn was absolutely raving about having a little sister as you and your husband were so happy he was taking it well.

“alright norris family, time to go!” lando calls out from the front door, “let’s go!”

“i coming! i coming!” finn yells out, wobbling out of his room and towards lando’s legs. he stops an inch before the crash into them, but not without losing his balance and tumbling into your husband’s sturdy hold. not trusted by his own two feet anymore, he’s now perched on lando’s hip as you walk towards the door.

“i think i’ve got everything,” you sigh out, looking into your bag one last time.

“snacks?” lando asks, to begin your routine of a verbal checklist ever since your baby brain had kicked in.

“goldfish and pretzels,” you reply, hearing a quiet ‘yay’ with a clap from your first-born.

“wallet?”

“yes,”

“keys,”

“you have those,”

“right, wipes?”

“yes, i think it’s all here,”

“okay, we can always stop back if we need anything,” lando assures you as he pulls you closer for a quick kiss to the lips, “now let’s go if we want to get back a bit early,”

“right, right,” you move to kiss your son’s head and give him a quick tickle, “we’ve gotta go before dada’s in a mood, right baby?” finn giggles at your antics as lando rolls his eyes with a laugh, pushing his family out of the door.

“momma! this one!” finn yells out into the store, leading you to turn around and see what he was presenting you with.

“oh, honey,” you chuckle in amusement, “lan, look what our lovely son wants to purchase for our daughter,” you grab lando’s attention and he just groans beside you.

“really, finn? ferrari merch for my daughter too?” lando playfully scolds his son as finn just pushes the little red onesie closer to your filled up cart, “nuh uh, back it up mister,” lando grabs the onesie from finn and places it back on the rack, instead trading it for a certain papaya one.

“is that better for you and your ego, lan?” you ask with a laugh, poking his stomach to tease him further.

“i can handle finn being a fan, but this baby? she’s gonna be full on papaya,” he swats your hand away with a chuckle and scoops his son into his arms, “no more ferrari for baby girl, got it?” lando waves a warning finger in front of finn’s face, but his son just gurgles in happiness at his dad’s attention, continuously trying to grab hold of his hand.

“alright norris boys,” you announce to the two, “i think we have enough clothes and toys for baby girl until she’s four so let’s get going,” happy cheers erupt from the duo as you head to pay for your items.

your little growing family arrived home close to dinner time, you carrying two babies and a diaper bag as your husband dragged the multiple large bags of purchased items into your home.

“do you want to just throw those all into the nursery and we can sort it all tomorrow, lan?” you ask in his direction as you gently drop your son to his feet. with finn’s newfound freedom, he immediately runs over to his playmat in the living room, beginning the fairytale escapades of a three year old and a large amount of toy cars.

“yes, love,” lando answers your question and heads towards the nursery, but not without placing a kiss to your awaiting lips.

“i’m gonna get started on dinner,” you call back towards your husband as he starts towards the nursery.

“spaghetti?” your husband suggests with his signature puppy dog eyes.

“‘pageti!” his young twin cries out from the opposite direction, clapping his hands together for strong emphasis on his dinner choice.

“alright, spaghetti it is,” you giggle in amusement, “easier for me anyways,” you whisper the last part to yourself as you head into the kitchen and begin preparations.

shit. you think to yourself as you turn uncomfortably in bed. who forgot to close the curtains last night? as you think, the culprit himself opens them further and you groan at the blinding light cascading throughout your bedroom.

“lannnn,”

“i know, baby,” he laughs at you, proceeding to walk over towards you in bed, “but we have so much to do today in the nursery,”

“love, i know you’re excited to get this done,” as you look at him through squinted eyes, he takes a seat next to your horizontal frame, “but we do have four more months,”

“i know that,” lando begins, reaching his hand towards you to move your bed head out of your face, “but love, i’ve wanted to do all of this since you were seven weeks pregnant,”

“okay, fine,” you groan as he silently cheers, “help me up though,” he laughs, reaching both his hands around your body and lifting with ease. once stood on your own two feet after a few goodmorning kisses from lando, you head to the bathroom in order to wash up.

“our other baby will be up soon, so let’s knock out as much as we can before interruptions, yeah?” lando suggests as you start to brush your teeth. you simply nod in his direction and he happily runs over to give you a kiss on the forehead, “i’ll be in the nursery, come join me once you’re done,” with a light tap on the bum and one more kiss to the top of your head, your giddy husband races out of the room.

“it’s just you and me baby girl,” you caress your bump as you whisper to her, “we live in a house of crazy boys,” you laugh quietly to yourself at the memories, “but we all cannot wait to meet you,”

a/n - pls pls comment some baby girl names you'd enjoy to see! next couple chapters and she's hereee

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swimmingruinsdream · 2 years

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Moms Against White Baseball Pants T-Shirt

This t-shirt is perfect for any baseball mom who knows the struggle of keeping those white baseball pants clean. It's a fun and playful way to show support for your child's team while also making a statement. The shirt is made from high-quality materials and is designed to be comfortable and durable. Whether you're sitting in the stands or running errands, this t-shirt is a great addition to your wardrobe.

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nana-au · 5 months

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Best Friends Forever!

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: You’re Suguru’s bff and roommate. You know him like the back of your hand – and he knows you the same, if not better! Some people may think you two are too close, but they just don’t understand. When you have a date planned and need help picking out your outfit, Suguru’s your guy! ...What’s this? He doesn’t want you to leave?

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: minor mention of blood, mention of pet death, possessiveness, jealousy, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, making you beg, overstimulation, unprotected sex

₊˚ପ⊹ an: kicking and screaming and crying and throwing up and scratching my face I NEED HIM.

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 2.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BFF! Sugu who’s been by your side since before you can even remember! You grew up neighbors and when you both went off to college you got an apartment off campus together. It was only natural to be with Suguru. He was the only constant in your life – your anchor.

BFF! Sugu who is so protective of you. How could he not? You two experienced life’s firsts together. You were there when Suguru took a nasty spill off his bike. His tears were hot down his face as you stayed by his side. You used the water bottle you kept on your own bike to flush the blood off his knee, giving it a quick peck. “My mom always says a kiss makes everything better. Do you feel better Sugu?” He nods his head, wiping the snot off of his face with his t-shirt. He was there when you lost your first pet and even though you were preteens and everyone made you feel dumb being sad over a goldfish - Geto made it a point to hold a funeral in his backyard. He dug a small grave for it - picking out the perfect rock for you to write its name on to place on top of its resting place.

BFF! Sugu who makes sure you’re safe. He would never allow you to pump your own gas. He’s seen the type of guys who prowl around the gas station close to your home. He’ll make sure you get to sit pretty in the passenger seat while he fills up your car. Don’t worry about the price – he’ll take care of it. He always takes care of you.

BFF! Sugu who knows everything about you. He knows all your favorites. Favorite color, favorite season, favorite food, favorite tv show… there was nothing that you liked that he was not aware of. He knows about things you wouldn’t be caught dead telling anyone else – trusting only your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who is so so sooooo protective of you. Any guy he thought wasn’t the absolute best for you was quickly kicked to the curb. He’ll admit – sometimes the criteria was a little strict. The guy from your art class? His haircut was stupid. Shithead from your after school club? Believe him – he was a tool. Worst of all was the douche on your school’s baseball team. Suguru had quite the time getting you to see his point of view, but he didn’t dare say I told you so as you cried in his arms retelling the embarrassment of catching him cheating.

BFF! Sugu who learns to relax in college. You were a woman now – you no longer needed his constant guidance. He would genuinely smile as you talked about all the friends you were making in your major. How funny your coworkers at the concession stand job you worked every football game were. The fact you had a date with a friend of a friend – your girl friend had vouched for him. He was a good guy. Geto was glad you had people looking out for you. He couldn’t wait to meet him.

BFF! Sugu who helps you pick out the cute little outfits for your dates. You were so beautiful, that guy was truly lucky. But even his luck couldn’t match Suguru’s as you put on a little show for him – trying on every tantalizing option.

BFF! Sugu who loved watching you dress up so much he bought you more. You didn’t even need a date to have a fashion show! He just loved seeing that color on you. Oh! – And don’t even get him started on the skimpy little dresses with the ruffles. They were made for you. He couldn’t decide whether your plump butt or your squishy boobs looked better hugged by the fabric. He had to use his large hand to hide the bite he gave to his bottom lip when your cute little panties peaked through the bottom of a particularly short one. “Maybe that one is good for around the house,” he proposed.

BFF! Sugu who had to swallow his need when you begged him to rate your lingerie. “I didn’t realize you two were at that point in your relationship,” he would try to laugh off his distaste.

“I’ve told him no to sex for so long, I’ve been thinking maybe it's time…” you trailed off. You played with the hem of your dress as you stood in front of Suguru on the couch. He was sunk comfortably into the loveseat, legs spread wide and one of his muscled arms stretching across the back of the couch. The other on the arm rest. “Ok princess. Let’s see the options,” he spoke.

BFF! Sugu who couldn’t make it through the first set. The white lace left little to the imagination, a black bow adorned above your cute mound. “You trying to make me sweat?” A dark chuckle broke through his lips. “Sorry?” you asked him, not hearing him correctly. How silly you were to think that just because he was a friend that made him any less of a man. A hot blooded man at that – with eyes that glued to your nipples visible through the thin fabric. “The dresses were one thing, princess, but this? Don’t play dumb,” his dark eyes were now impossibly black. You were staring into the voids that indiscreetly roamed your body. It was entirely silly of you to now try and hide yourself from his hungry gaze.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t let you leave. You were no match against his strong grip as he pulled you onto his lap. “You’re leavin’ me no choice,” he assured you, pushing you down hard against his thigh. You tried to push away but his hands on your waist locked you in. “No choice,” he reminded you. You swallowed thickly, realizing you were completely helpless as he began guiding your hips up and down his thigh. The rough material of your panties rubbing deliciously against your clit. “Sugu s-stop,” you begged him, all breathy and hot against his ear. “You want me to stop?” Of course! He was your best friend. You didn’t want him making you feel better than you ever thought possible by just rubbing your pussy against his leg. “But you look so cute like this,” he pouted at you, “Humping my thigh like a puppy. I’ll let go – but you better stop moving your hips,” he tutted at you. You didn’t have it in you to keep your eyes open to watch yourself continuously rut against him even after he removed his hands. It wasn’t your fault his muscled thigh felt more pleasurable than any toy you could ever buy.

Geto had plenty of girls at your school talking about their experiences with him. You spent your entire teen years hearing about his ‘magical tongue’ and ‘horse dick’. For the majority of your life you had little interest in getting to experience that part of your best friend – that was until the bastard from the baseball team. The absolute snore fest he put on for your first time was jarring. Maybe you were so used to hearing how life-changing Suguru’s hips were that you had high expectations...

No – you were not purposefully trying to get Geto to want you. He genuinely gave good advice when it came to what looked good on you. Ok so maybe you were pushing your luck with the lingerie – but Suguru was always so level-headed. It was scary how quickly he caved.

It was even more frightening listening to his taunts hot in your ear, “Why aren’t you stopping?” You couldn’t stop now – but you would. Just a little longer. You’d find the strength to stop soon. “Tell me you want me, or I’m stopping this,” he threatened and your form shook. “Please don’t,” you begged him. “Don’t what?” he lifted your chin, making you look at him “Don’t s-stop t-this,” you squeaked out.

BFF! Sugu whose rumors were true. His tongue was magical. His hands flew down to your hips, helping you roll deliciously against the fabric of his sweats while his wet muscle was hot against your nipples. He used his teeth to pull down the fabric so he could taste your bare bud against his tongue. He suckled and licked your sensitive nipple causing your arousal to seep past the lace of your panties. You began to soak his sweatpants but he wasn’t gonna have you stopping anytime soon. He pulled your hips into tight circles against him, overwhelming your nub. His teeth nibbled at your nipple and you jerked up at the sudden shock. His grip was bruising and you wanted – no needed more. “Sugu.. more.. need more” you sounded so pathetic.

BFF! Sugu who was left with little choice! His princess wanted more and more she was going to get. His head kissed your entrance, barely pushing in past the tip. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulders as he teased himself into you. “You think you can take me?” he asked you and you nodded fervently. He was thick and long – even his tip felt like he was tearing you in two. You wanted to be absolutely broken. “M-more Sugu,” you begged, trying to move your hips to sink down further. He kept you still – only allowing you to move if it was him dragging you down against him. Your slick was dripping down the rest of his cock, you were completely overwhelmed by the little attention he was giving you. One of his hands moved from your hips down to your clit, rubbing slow circles – barely ghosting above it. You were clenching on his fat tip and whining embarrassingly loud. He wanted to have you crying for his cock. He clicked his tongue at you, “I’m not convinced enough you want my cock.” He looked so unaffected as you shook, “I do! I need it, Sugu,” tears fell down your cheeks as you desperately tried to convince him.

BFF! Sugu whose hips slapped against yours at a brutal pace. He had you pinned into the loveseat, head down and ass up. A creamy ring formed at the base of his unrelenting cock. Drool was seeping from your mouth and onto the couch, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pounding into that gummy spot that made you dizzy. “No one could make you feel this way,” he promised you, “this pussy was made for me.” His pace was bruising, his balls slapping against your clit. He pulled your hips up farther, making you arch your back. Everything was so noisy – the sound of you meeting his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling in and out, and his grunts each time he felt his tip kiss your cervix. Geto looooved watching you take him so well. Each time his cock disappeared inside of you, only to reappear as he roughly dragged out of you. He didn’t know if you were purposefully squeezing him each time his hips pulled back. Were you trying to keep him buried deep? “Your date won't mind if I leave my cum in you, right?” he teased you – knowing full well you wouldn’t be going anywhere after he was done with you. “Dripping out of your pussy at dinner,” you couldn’t fathom him being able to laugh right now. “What would you even tell him?” he was imagining the scene playing out in his mind, “My roommate thought I was looking a little empty. Needed to stuff me full,” His smile lazy thinking about how he was claiming you tonight. He was fucking your tight little hole deliciously, making sure you could never be satisfied by anything other than his cock. You pushed your hips into his, making sure he reached as deep as possible. “You want to cum, princess?” he picked up his pace – which you didn’t even think was possible – your tits bouncing at each thrust of his hips. You nodded, pleading for him to make you cum. “God – cum on my cock. Want t’feel you squeezin me,” the rough pad of his finger met your clit, helping your pleasure meet its peak. “I’m cumming, Sugu,” you cried out to your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who wasn’t done with you once you came. You tried to claw at his hands on your hips, begging him to slow down. The tension in your tummy snapped, cumming undone loudly around him. He paid no mind to your pleas, “You can take more. You’re a good girl, I know you can.” He didn’t ever want to leave your snug pussy. He would fuck you all day if that’s what it took for him to feel satisfied. “Give me another, baby. Cum on my cock one more time. I know you can,” he was so filthy. You never had a guy dirty talk to you the way Geto was. He was demanding and unrelenting. It was alarming how much you enjoyed the filth leaving his lips. “How could you tell me to stop when she’s gripping me so tight – pussy doesn’t want to let go of me.” he threw his head back, “”S your fault I’m pounding you like this. I couldn't let you get away with showing me that little number.” The lingerie he was referring to was on the floor below you two, ripped into pieces from when he tore it off your body. He completely pulled out of you – leaving your pussy uncomfortably empty before flipping you over and folding you in half. He placed the back of your knees on his shoulder, wasting no time pushing himself back into you. The new angle took your breath away. His heavy frame held you down as his cock was unrelenting. When you looked down you could see his length slide in and out of you, your cute little pussy lips swallowing him whole. Your arousal coated his cock – all thick and creamy. You felt like you could pass out from the sight – not thinking it was possible to be so wet. His thumb reached down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “C’mon baby. I’m addicted to the way you squeeze my cock. Let me feel you cum again. Need it, princess,” he begged. He was slowly losing all control. You were so perfect underneath him, taking him like the good girl he always knew you were. You were wrecking him. Your sounds were so cute – choking back sobs as he fucked you to another peak. You were begging for him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel him coat your walls in his sticky juice. “Gonna pump you full,” he promised you. “Gonna feel so good stuffed full with my cum.”

BFF! Sugu who can’t stand watching his semen leak out of you. You were completely fucked out – chest heaving as you laid on the couch. Geto was still holding your legs up, trying fruitlessly to push his juices back inside of you.

BFF! Sugu who needs to make sure you keep all of it. He didn’t even wait for you to regain your energy before his thick fingers are deep inside of you. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste,” he tells you. He curls his thick digits, pushing against the squishy spot that makes you see stars. “No more,” you breathlessly say. “Just one more. Need to make sure it all keeps,” you are completely overstimulated. The feelings of his fingers are heightened by your two orgasms – which only makes you come undone even faster. His fingers are lightening fast and your pussy sounds like it's made of water. It’s so loud and wet and you just can’t help yourself from cumming again. You’re thrashing against his unrelenting fingers, crying loud enough that your neighbors definitely hear. “That’s it. S’good for me,” he’s emotional watching you come undone so many times by his doing. You were his. His, his, his.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t even have to tell you to cancel your date. You couldn’t pick your head up after he was done with you. You were staying home with him – where you belonged.

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telomeke-bbs · 1 year

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BAD BUDDY'S BASEBALL MOM – ROOFTOP RUGBY WITH LUCY IN THE SKY… OR ON A BASEBALL DIAMOND?

One of the most mystifying aspects of Bad Buddy was the decision to have Pat wear the now-iconic Baseball Mom tee for the Epic Rooftop Kiss at the end of Episode 5.

It's so utterly incongruous with the drama onscreen. The scene was a pivotal moment for the narrative, with Pat's big coming out to Pran followed by the very steamy demonstration of mutual emotions, after episodes of unending turbulence around where they stood with each other. And The Kiss they delivered was so stupendous, it rocked the Internet to its very foundations.

And for that hugely important moment, Director Aof decided Pat should wear – a big woman's t-shirt more associated with loud, overzealous American moms cheering on their kids at Little League baseball? 👀

At first I thought production simply wanted something open and sporty for Pat, to contrast with Pran being all covered up (mirroring their states of mind – Pat actively seeking to confess his feelings on the rooftop, Pran all closed-off and repressed). That line of thinking was definitely behind a lot of Pat and Pran's outfits, and I assumed they just used a random tee and cut off its sleeves for this.

But in retrospect this seems altogether too blasé an approach, especially since we can see how purposeful the wardrobe decisions were throughout the rest of the series. (The Soon Vijarn Recap video for BBS Ep.5 also makes it very clear Director Aof was closely involved in wardrobe selection, choosing all the outfits for their appropriateness to the narrative – see this link here, at timestamp 23.24.)

(above) The Soon Vijarn Recap video for BBS Ep.5 timestamp 23.49

The examples of the wardrobe reflecting the characters' inner states are copious. Pran's emotional journey in the first half of BBS – learning to open up, getting his feelings returned, and falling into a relationship – was mirrored by his sartorial journey, and he went from all colorless and buttoned-up to a wardrobe filled with more relaxed, expressive and colorful outfits when out in public:

(above) Pran all buttoned-up in his early whites (Ep.2 [1I4] 1.56, Ep.3 [1I4] 12.40 and Ep.5 [1I4] 6.03)

(above) A selection of Pran's more relaxed and colorful sweaters that he wore outside later in the series (Ep.7 [3I4] 2.52, Ep.10 [3I4] 0.26, Ep.12 [3I4] 6.36 and Ep.12 [4/4] 10.14)

Loud extrovert Pat on the other hand was decked out almost from the beginning in bright prints and wacky t-shirts (with some rivaling Baseball Mom in wackiness), all the better to broadcast his outgoing character and personality:

(above) A selection of Pat's bright and wacky tops (Ep.2 [2/4] 5.03, Ep.6 [3I4] 4.37, Ep.8 [2/4] 8.30 and Ep.10 [1I4] 4.52)

The mystery deepened further when the fandom tracked down the maker of Baseball Mom – it looks like a small, possibly home-based business in the US, and the t-shirt is part of a line, one of several related tops (see this link here). It simply wasn't a random tee from some small Bangkok shop (unless the vendor had gotten it secondhand off some American tourist, and was re-selling it locally). This looks like a t-shirt that was specifically procured for the show (possibly even sourced from overseas), rendered sleeveless with low-cut armholes to echo the openness of Pat's personality, and then put on Ohm with absolute intent.

But why?

I'm convinced that there is an element of subversion about this (not the least because the t-shirt undercuts the heavy drama of the scene so drastically). @ranchthoughts has already pointed out in this write-up linked here that the feminine Mom is an allusion to the subversion of gender roles embodied by Pat's character, and I very much agree. It's also possible that this particular tee was chosen because the baseball standing in for (and thus somewhat obscuring) the letter 'O' in the word Mom kind of makes the word call out to M🤍M or MLM. (And here's an afterthought that occured to me watching Only Friends and the promo trailer for My Golden Blood – the baseball bat is also visual shorthand for the emotional violence that Pat and Pran wreak upon their relationship when each figuratively beats up on the other – and on himself too – while acting out their strange, rambunctious relationship as enemies who are secret friends and later lovers.)

But I also do think that there's still more to Baseball Mom than the above, and this particular train of thought was triggered by an Ask from @pandasmagorica about Ep.5's rooftop scene (linked here).

I now think we can piece together a reason for Baseball Mom on the rooftop, but it's only fair to signal that this wackiest of wardrobe choices is getting possibly the wackiest of explanations (and it's a doozy).

Now what @pandasmagorica's Ask triggered for me was the realization that Pat's directness on the rooftop was actually almost the complete opposite of something that he'd been doing very often, right up until Episode 5 – and that was his propensity to torment Pran with the bait-and-switch.

Time and again, Pat would reach out with the offer of something precious to Pran – a smile, a kind word, a tender moment, a suggestion of intimacy – but then quite suddenly he would subvert the situation and switch out the proffered affection with something wholly discomfiting, crushing hopeful Pran's expectations.

There are several examples:

During their childhood, Pat returned Pran's watch after Pran saved Pa from drowning (Ep.1 [4/4] 9.46), signaling the start of his friendship with the lonely little boy next door – only to impose the caveat "But…don’t talk to me in front of people. They might think we're buddies."

That (almost shirtless) bedside conversation at the end of Ep.4 (beginning at Ep.4 [4/4] 10.43), when Pat kept bombarding poor Pran with personal, leading questions, half-begged to be allowed to share his bed and cuddle, before shattering his neighbor's heart by declaring that it was Ink whom he liked romantically.

Tending to Pran’s injured shoulder at Ep.4 [3I4] 7.07, before suggesting he only wanted Pran to recover so that they could compete in rugby again;

Returning Pran’s long-lost guitar to him, then ruining the tenderness of the moment with “I just like to see your face… when you lose” (Ep.3 [4/4] 10.30).

And with Pran deep in his feelings for Pat, the constant intimations of closeness and deeper feelings, shell-gamed away at the last minute, must have been soul-crushing for our poor yearning boy. (This is also what the lyrics of Pran's theme – Just Friend? – are all about, e.g., "I can’t make sense of what you’ve done"/"Are we just friends or are we more?"/"If you don’t mean it, don’t act that way".)

No wonder Pran was trying so hard to keep a distance from the cheerful boy next door, who was always invading his personal space (after having taken over his heart). So much so that Pran on the rooftop was expecting more of the same, which explains his blunt statement "Pat, you've got to stop doing this to me. We are not a thing" in response to Pat telling him that it hurt to see the song they co-wrote in high school played with someone else.

Pran saw this as more of Pat's teasing games, but irony of ironies Pat was being totally serious this time. And yet, even on the rooftop in Ep.5, Pat did a version of the bait-and-switch one more time, but with the polarity reversed for once – he listed all the ways Pran's exile should have brought him joy, only to end with "It was so depressingly lonely for me." 😢

I think Pat learnt early on that this is what you do to your loved ones – because there's actually an example of Ming doing something similar to his son at Ep.8 [2/4] 16.12. Helping to wash Pat's car, he quietly allowed his son to natter on about his day with fibs about rugby practice, before landing a sledgehammer blow saying "When did I teach you to lie?" at Ep.8 [2/4] 16.41. This was an ambush, intended to take Pat by surprise and inflict the maximum amount of damage – and judging by Pat's despondent moping after, Ming certainly succeeded.

But it's not only Pat doing this to Pran, or Ming doing this to Pat, that we see in BBS. Director Aof and his writers actually littered the narrative with other examples of the set-up and switch-out as well, doing it to us the viewers:

Pat may have started out Ep.1 a ruffian, but then we saw that he was really a cheery big kid who needed his popsicles and cuddles from Nong Nao for comfort (Ep.1 [4/4] 8.37 and Ep.2 [1I4] 1.36).

Ink was introduced as a demure girl from the north (remembering that northern Thailand is seen as close to the birthplace of Thai culture) in Ep.4 [1I4] 7.41; then she tripped and let out a curse word at Ep.4 [1I4] 8.01.

Pa's glow-up at Ep.7 [1I4] 2.39 and subsequent story arc subverted her initial (albeit not very successful) portrayal as the frumpy kid sister with no life and no agency as a character.

BBS placed the emotional burden of Episodes 1 to 4 solely on Pran's pining shoulders, and then suddenly whipped it away in Ep.5 and dumped it squarely on Pat (kudos to Ohm, who gamely played Pat as a shining object of affection for the first third of BBS, before showing us that Junior Jindapat was so much more than a lovable, empty vessel himbo, and was instead someone who actually did possess an inner life that he could access).

And perhaps the biggest BBS bait-and-switch of all – Pran's unrequited love for inaccessible Pat turns out to be requited after all, but then without warning it's Pran who spins out of reach on the rooftop.

Looking at BL as a genre, the bait-and-switch is sometimes employed as a storytelling device to provide an unexpected dramatic twist (though whether or not it satisfies is debatable). For example there is the trap set for Lhong in TharnType, the aloof ice prince Sarawat turning out to have been carrying a torch for Tine in 2gether, and Nubsib's reveal in Lovely Writer as someone who also shared a past with Gene.

And if you think about it, all of Bad Buddy itself was kind of one big bait-and-switch as well. They set it up so that – at the start – it looked like the series would be shaping up into a run-of-the-mill, formulaic romance. The roadmap was laid out quite clearly – enemies to lovers, Romeo and Juliet or Kwan and Riam but the BL version thank you very much, star-crossed and kept apart by their warring families.

So we were expecting BBS to follow the usual romcom beats and rhythms, delivering the standard tropes, with the main storyline about how the enemies would fall in love against the odds, then find a way to beat the odds and stay together, or fall victim to it and be forever driven apart.

Except that Director Aof and his team pulled the rug out from under us time and time again, after setting this all up. The idea that Pat and Pran were enemies got turned on its head (they'd been secret friends since childhood). The process of falling in love didn't follow conventional beats at all – Pran was already in love, while Pat was… possibly already beset by emotions, just getting them all mixed up and projecting them onto Ink.

Instead of showing us the main couple falling for each other over the course of 12 episodes, this was firmly established by the end of Episode 5. Instead of their families being the primary conflict driving them apart, it was Pran's overthinking and emotional walls that drove a wedge between them in Episode 6. When family conflict finally did rear its head to threaten their relationship, well Pat and Pran just sidestepped it and carried on.

And the tropes? One by one they fell by the wayside as well. Ink turned up in Ep.4, looking like a formidable love rival for Pran (and he believed it too). Except that she wasn't the stereotype of the evil girlfriend at all – she turned out to be Pat's supportive bestie, while her eye (and camera) were focused on Pa instead. Any stereotypes overhanging macho Pat and pernickety Pran got subverted too, with Pat ditching sports practice for musical theater and Pran a credible street fighter and also a star player on his rugby team – so much for the seme and uke in this BL. The "gay for you" trope got put down (Ep.9 [2/4] 1.41), as was the "wifey" one (Ep.9 [4/4] 8.48). There are so many examples.

Even the end of Ep.11 was a bait-and-switch as well, when a large portion of the fandom was hoodwinked by Director Aof's Ep.12 preview into thinking that we were headed for a break-up. (Fortunately they switched it out for the happy ending that we got instead, thank goodness.)

There's so much of this going on, it seems as though BBS was actually celebrating the bait-and-switch (and in that way kind of subverting its use in BL as well). The thing is, nothing was ever what it seemed in Bad Buddy, and it was all intended to be so, from Day One, because it's solidly a thematic preoccupation underlying the series.

I now think Baseball Mom really plays into all of this glorification of the bait-and-switch as a storytelling device, and its subversion as well. But in a really wacky way, as perhaps is only fitting for the wackiest of Pat's t‑shirts.

So looking back on decades of popular media, who's been crowned the Big Boss of the Bait-and-Switch, the Grand Poobah of Switcheroos, the Queen of the Short-Con, the House Mother of all Bamboozlers?

It’s this little lady right here: 😍

This is Lucy Van Pelt, from Charles Schulz's comic strip Peanuts. Lucy is many things in the Peanuts universe, but one thing she's iconic for is a bait-and-switch prank, where she holds a football and then goads Charlie Brown on to kick it. He usually takes a bit of convincing, but eventually he goes for it and at the last second, Lucy pulls the ball away and poor Chuck ends up kicking the air, sent flying in the process. It's a running gag in the comic strip, first appearing in 1952 and recurring every year after that:

So what's the link with Baseball Mom though?

Football aside, in Peanuts Lucy is also a member of Charlie Brown's baseball team – and significantly she's absolutely terrible at the game. She misses the easiest of pitches, and even when perfectly positioned she gets hit on the head by the ball instead of catching it in her mitt.

So while she may be totally, confidently in charge of the situation baiting Charlie Brown with the pigskin, when it comes to baseball instead of football – Lucy is completely out of her element.

The parallel with Bad Buddy is that master of the bait-and-switch Pat Napat Jindapat – the BBS manifestation of Lucy – was pulling different versions of the Charlie Brown football prank on hapless Pran over and over again, causing much anguish to the latter's battered heart.

But suddenly on the rooftop, the tables got turned and Pran pulled the big switcheroo on him instead – by confirming their mutual feelings with a kiss so dizzyingly sensational that Pat must have been delirious with happiness… only to send it all crashing down by abandoning him there without a word of explanation.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.5 [4/4] 12.58 – an abandoned Pat stares uncomprehendingly as Pran walks away from the wreckage of their broken hearts

In that moment Football Lucy morphed into Baseball Lucy, from self-assured manipulator to incompetent klutz, all alone in right field when the ball came zooming in from way out left. And what better way to mark this moment than with a t-shirt loudly proclaiming Pat's newly-minted Baseball Lucy status on its front?

(above) The Baseball Mom graphic – BBS's own version of The Scarlet Letter

Yes, I know this explanation is outlandish; that's how it sounded to me too when it first took shape in my head. So I decided to test it, by looking for supporting information elsewhere in the context of Bad Buddy. And the findings are truly surprising. 👀

No characters from Peanuts actually appear (in canon form) within any of BBS's visuals (not that they could, I suppose, for licensing reasons). But Charlie Brown and his cohort of characters aren't unknown in Thailand – there is a Charlie Brown Café (79/335 แขวงช่องนนทรี เขตยานนาวา, Bangkok, Thailand, 10120) that was previously at MBK Centre and a Charlie Brown's Restaurant (315/303 ซ.นราธิวาส24 แขวง ช่องนนทรี Yan Nawa, Bangkok 10120, Thailand) at Belle Park Plaza/Fortune Condo Town:

(above left) Charlie Brown Café; (above right) Charlie Brown's Restaurant

And even though we don't directly see Charlie Brown, Lucy or any other Peanuts characters in BBS, there are oblique references. One of the more obvious ones alludes to Lucy's younger brother, Linus Van Pelt:

When we see Pran out in the world with his PP hobo bag (written up here) or Pat snuggled in bed with his beloved Nong Nao (written up here), we know by now that the bag and the stuffed doll-pillow are our boys' favorite comfort objects, providing psychological security even as they face their personal fears.

(above left) Bad Buddy Ep.2 [1I4] 3.01 – Pran and his PP hobo bag, that he deploys like a shield when outside; (above right) Bad Buddy Ep.2 [1I4] 1.37 – Pat cuddling Nong Nao for comfort when he's all alone

But another name for these comfort objects actually has a connection to Peanuts – they can also be called Linus blankets, after the security blanket that Lucy's brother carries around with him all the time. Just a coincidence? I'm not so sure. (I think it's also significant that all three objects have blue as their predominant color.)

There's also a nod at Charlie Brown himself later, on the rooftop in Ep.7 [4/4] – Pat's tee is an unmistakeable visual reference to Charlie Brown's signature yellow top with its zigzag motif:

(above left) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 1.48; (above right) Charlie Brown in his own iconic t-shirt

After their roles were reversed on the rooftop at the end of Ep.5 (with Pran pulling the ultimate bait-and-switch move back on Pat by walking away after The Kiss), the mantle of Charlie Brown the football prank victim was thrust onto Pat instead, and that is what we see here in Ep.7.

The brand name emblazoned on Pat's t-shirt also rings some bells – it's Patriots, which immediately calls to mind the NFL team from New England, and is another nod at Lucy's American football. (There is also a Minor League baseball team called the Somerset Patriots based in New Jersey; not as well-known as their counterparts – compatriots? – a few states away, but still… 👀).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 2.13

And looking a bit closer the Ep.7 scene on the rooftop (the last one to be filmed among all of Bad Buddy's queues) really starts to overflow with meaning because it's actually a parallel to Ep.5's rooftop bait-and-switch.

It's far too much to include here, so I've put it into its own separate post (see this write-up linked here) – the short of it is that Pat as Charlie Brown plays the bait-and-switch one last time on Pran in Ep.7, but for the very first time turns the last-second switch-out into a win for his beloved instead, rescuing Pran who was floundering with the musical. And this reversal of the bait-and-switch, a redemption of sorts, is what convinces Pran to end their courtship competition and enter into confirmed couplehood instead. 👍

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Now all that aside, there's still one more element in Bad Buddy that I think is a direct reference to Lucy's bait-and-switch in Peanuts – and that's all the rugby, doing its part as a stand-in for Lucy's American football.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.4 [4/4] 2.04 – the boys face off on the rugby pitch

It would never have been possible to feature American (gridiron) football authentically in Bad Buddy (it's not a popular sport outside of North America, to be honest, and would have been totally alien in a Thai setting). So they shone the spotlight on rugby instead, most probably because the ball used for play there is ovoid and almost the same as the one used in American football – it seems like the rugby in BBS is pointing at Lucy and the American football she deviously deploys.

(top) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [2/4] 13.01; (bottom) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [2/4] 13.02

This would explain why Director Aof and his team opted to feature rugby instead of soccer –the latter is far more popular in Thailand, and would have been a more obvious choice. In addition, soccer would have been far easier to stage – all the BBS rugby scenes had to be filmed at a completely different campus from the primary uni location (Bangkok University instead of Rangsit University) because the latter doesn't seem to have a rugby pitch, though it does have a soccer one. In case you were wondering as I was, the goalposts are starkly different so they couldn't just pretend to play rugby on the soccer pitch – it would have been a terribly obvious fake-out if they had.

They couldn't substitute another team sport even if it was easier to accommodate, because rugby (or rather the ball) was integral to this aspect of the storyline. It needed to be rugby if the intention was to evoke Lucy's favorite weapon of torment.

Further evidence in support of this can be found when you look at the original (rough-draft promo) Bad Buddy trailer that was released in 2020 (I think) to promote the 2021 lineup, before actual filming of the series itself in mid-2021:

The rugby was present even at that early stage (and Toto was on Pat's team! 😂). But what's mindblowing is that they're actually using an American football (the AF500), not a rugby ball (you can tell from the laces, which modern rugby balls do not have). 👀 So the gridiron football was very much part of Bad Buddy's primordial DNA, way back at its inception, even before actual filming began. Another nod at Lucy in Peanuts here.

(above) A screenshot from the original Bad Buddy promo trailer at timestamp 1.48

(above) A screenshot from the original Bad Buddy promo trailer at timestamp 2.15

Now all of this is dandy I suppose, but even with Linus blankets, Pat dressed like Charlie Brown, the oval ball and BBS's insistence on rugby (masquerading as American football) over soccer, for the longest time the hardboiled skeptic in me still wasn't fully convinced that Pat wearing Baseball Mom was actually Lucy in disguise getting her comeuppance, Bad Buddy style.

UNTIL I DECIDED TO LOOK MORE CLOSELY AT THE RUGBY MATCH IN EPISODE 4. And that was the clincher, that cemented the intentionality behind Baseball Mom in my mind, because there actually is a sequence where Pat executes Lucy's signature bait-and-switch move, with the rugby ball standing in for an American football, and with Pran as his fall guy.

The sequence in question starts at Ep.4 [4/4] 3.33, when we see Pat running with the ball, coveted by Pran (in more ways than one).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.4 [4/4] 3.33

Pran tackles him, but in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, Pat flicks the ball away and before any of us (Pran included) can realize what's happened, Korn is off and running with it instead (and I think he scores the rugby version of a touchdown too).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.4 [4/4] 3.38

Meanwhile, Pat and Pran are still locked in a full-body clinch – and if you look closely, it's Pat who's actually holding on to Pran, not letting him go (with obvious delight, even if he's unaware of exactly why he's relishing the contact so much).

Much of Bad Buddy is really chaste, but there's something about this moment here that makes it seem like a line has been crossed, and that things have turned inexplicably raunchy somehow. There's full-body grappling, legs spread wide, crotch jammed to butt, a whole lot of heaving and panting. Pat is clearly enjoying every second, almost as though it’s the successful climax of his great big plan to waylay Pran with this bait-and-switch. And of course it's the perfect cue for him to deliver that now infamous, golden line: "If you hug me this tight, you might as well take me as your boyfriend." 😂

Actually Pat had been teasing and taunting Pran with hints of romance even before the game (going so far as to acknowledge that his behavior was flirtatious, at Ep.4 [4/4] 0.48) so it's impossible not to see that body tackle on the pitch as anything but a close encounter suffused with sexual tension – and Pran would of course be the first to notice it. (It's possibly also a subversion of the accidental "falling on you" trope, since it's at once contrived yet consensual.)

If you break it down, Pat used the ball to get Pran to tackle him, only to switch it out at the last minute with something else (close, practically intimate body contact) that poor Pran (drowning in his crush) would have found absolutely devastating. This is practically a playbook version of Lucy doing the football bait-and-switch with Charlie Brown.

To be honest though, I'd always found this rugby clinch a little odd and confusing, and had wondered why they even had this scene. It was logistically complicated to set up (two whole teams of players!), and the bait-and-switch portion would have been extremely tricky to choreograph and film. The whole rigmarole was also a lot of work for just a few seconds of screen time. That the ball slips away unseen also makes it seem anti-climactic for the viewer – but not for master gameplayer Pat, who successfully got his planned payload nonetheless.

And because he did it using Lucy Van Pelt's signature move, I now think the reason for this scene is for it to be held up as the paragon of Pat's bait-and-switch traps in Bad Buddy, and a parallel for the Epic Rooftop Kiss when Pran slaps the old switcheroo back on Pat instead.

On the rugby pitch Pat baited Pran by pulling away (with the ball), and then crushed his heart with physical intimacy (hugging him like a lover, but making it seem like he was only play-acting at returning Pran's love). On the rooftop Pran baited Pat with physical intimacy (The Kiss, proof to Pat that his feelings were returned), and then crushed his heart by pulling away (and taking with him all promise of his love).

Atop Chana City Residence at the end of Ep.5, perpetual prankster Pat couldn't stop himself and went in for the bait (Pran offering himself up romantically), only to see it whisked away from him at the very last second.

Suddenly the rules changed and Football Lucy, the House Mother of all bait-and-switch bamboozles, became the victim of the biggest bait-and-switch of them all, and was thrust into a different game instead. Bereft of Pran and denied his moment of victory, Pat became Baseball Mom indeed. 😔

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.5 [4/4] 13.06

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P.S. You can order Baseball Mom (the t-shirt, not Pat 😂) from Amazon at this link here. (If the link doesn't work, you may need to change your "Deliver To" location at the top left of the landing page on Amazon to another country – not useful if you want to buy it when they don't deliver to your location, but useful if you just want to view the page, or get them to deliver to a third party who can then forward it to you. If changing the location doesn't work, try following the other instructions in this post linked here.)

I suspect the fandom has been buying up Baseball Mom like crazy, because it went from limited stock and availability on Amazon (selected locations only), to becoming available for other global locations and on Walmart.com as well – so maybe demand from the BBS fandom has boosted sales so much they started marketing it on more channels? Thai BL soft power trickles down. 🥰👍

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P.P.S. OK, just a little aside – this Peanuts fan theory for Baseball Mom is really wacky, but I think the universe is telling me to put it out there anyway because just as I was finishing the write-up, this random post about the Peanuts football bait-and-switch appeared on my dashboard.

What are the odds of it crossing my dash at the same time I'm writing about it, when I've not seen it referenced before throughout my history on Tumblr, ever? (There were a few random Peanuts and Charlie Brown posts that appeared at the same time as well.) I'm not superstitious, but I do think the universe has spoken. 😂

#bad buddy #bad buddy baseball mom #bad buddy baseball mom t-shirt #bbs baseball mom #bbs baseball mom t-shirt #bbs lucy van pelt #bbs bait and switch #bad buddy bait and switch #patpran #bbs charlie brown #bbs linus van pelt #bbs linus blanket #bbs peanuts #bbs rugby #bad buddy analysis

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rootedinrevisions · 10 days

Text

Texas Orange

SUMMARY: Heavily based on the song "Tennesse Orange" by Megan Moroney. You're in the early stages of your relationship with Glen and he takes you to a Texas football game with him.

**This was my first time writing about Glen himself and not one of his characters. I really loved the idea and the song that inspired this fic, however think I may stick to writing his characters instead of him as a person in the future. **

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

The Texas sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as you and Glen drive through the winding roads of Austin. The truck hums steadily beneath you, the air conditioning a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside.

You glance over at Glen, dressed in a black t-shirt with the orange Texas Longhorns symbol emblazoned on the chest, and a white Longhorns baseball cap turned backward on his head. His sunglasses shield his eyes from the bright light, and with one hand on the wheel, he holds your hand gently in the other. You glance over at him, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile when he catches you looking at him.

"This is amazing," you say, taking in the sprawling hills and the way the cityscape rises in the distance. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

Glen chuckles, his voice low and smooth, the kind of sound that makes you feel instantly at ease. "I still can't believe that. Austin's pretty great. But, I mean, you grew up on the coast, right? Plenty of beauty there too."

You nod, your mind flashing back to memories of ocean breezes and sandy beaches, a world away from the vast, open skies of Texas. "Yeah, but it's different. I've never seen anything quite like this."

He grins, squeezing your hand gently. "You're gonna love it here. Plus, this is only the start. Wait till you see the stadium-it's a whole other world."

You laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble up inside you. "Speaking of the stadium, I've got to admit something. I've never actually been to a football game before. My family wasn't really into sports growing up."

Glen's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a teasing grin. "You've never been to a game? Well, that changes today. Texas football is like a religion around here. It's something you just have to experience.

"Hopefully I'll fit in okay," you say, half-joking. The thought of stepping into the massive stadium, surrounded by thousands of passionate fans, is both thrilling and a little daunting.

He chuckles, his voice warm with affection. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. We'll ease you into it. Plus, my folks are going to be so excited to meet you they're gonna forget about the game, at least for a minute."

The mention of his family makes your stomach flip. This is a big step, meeting his family, even if you've both been keeping things casual. There's a part of you that wonders if this trip is more than just a casual one for Glen.

"What are they like? Your family, I mean," you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Glen's expression softens, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're great. They'll love you, I promise. My mom might be a little overwhelming at first, but that's just because she cares so much. And my dad, well he's the quiet type, but once you get him talking about anything Texas-related, you won't be able to get him to stop."

You smile at the thought, feeling a bit more at ease. "They sound like a good bunch."

"They are," Glen says, his voice sincere. "And they're going to love you. How could they not?"

His words bring warmth to your chest, and you squeeze his hand in return. "I hope so."

As the two of you continue to drive further into Austin, Glen gives you a mini tour. He points out a few landmarks - his favorite taco place, the park where he used to hang out with friends, and a music venue where he once saw an incredible show. You listen, soaking in every detail, feeling a sense of connection to this place that Glen clearly loves so much.

"Here we are," Glen says as he pulls into a parking spot near the stadium. The massive structure looms ahead, a sea of burnt orange and white, alive with energy even from a distance.

You take a deep breath, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling inside you. "This is it, huh?"

"This is it," Glen confirms, turning to you with a smile that melts away any lingering doubts. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," you say, smiling back at him.

As you step out of Glen's truck, you notice that nearly everyone around you is decked out in burnt orange and white. Texas Longhorns hats, jerseys, and t-shirts, all show their pride. The sea of matching colors makes you acutely aware that you're the only one not wearing any team gear.

Glen steps around the truck to join you, noticing the way your eyes scan the crowd. He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow. "Feeling a little out of place?"

You laugh, shrugging slightly. "Just a bit. I think I missed the memo on the dress code."

Without missing a beat, Glen reaches up to the back of his head and pulls off the white Longhorns cap he's been wearing. He turns it around in his hands before stepping closer to you. "Here, you can wear this. Can't have you being the odd one out."

Before you can respond, he's already placing the cap on your head. His fingers brush against your hair as he adjusts the fit, making sure it sits just right. You tilt your head up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen takes a step back to admire his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look great in Orange. Might even say you wear it better than I do."

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "You might be biased."

"Maybe," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I'm also right."

As you walk towards the section of the parking lot reserved for tailgating, Glen drapes an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. "Tell you what, we'll hit up the merch stand once we're inside. Gotta get you a t-shirt to complete the look."

"You don't have to do that," you start to protest, but Glen shakes his head.

"I want to," he insists, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Consider it part of the full Texas football experience."

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease with every step. "Alright, but only if you help me pick it out."

"Deal," Glen says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leading you into the sea of orange and white.

The aroma of sizzling barbecue fills the air as you and Glen approach the tailgating area. Rows of trucks and RVs are lined up in the parking lot, each decked out in burnt orange. Flags bearing the Texas Longhorns logo flutter in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles create a festive atmosphere.

Glen leads you through the crowd with a confident stride, his hand securely holding yours. As you near a large, lively group gathered around a grill, Glen spots his family and friends.

"There they are," he says, nodding towards the group. "Ready to meet everyone?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Glen gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the group. His mom, Cyndy, is the first to spot the two of you, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile. She's a petite woman with a warm demeanor, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you over.

"There you are!" Cyndy calls out, pulling Glen into a quick hug before turning her attention to you. "And you must be the one we've been hearing so much about. I'm Cyndy, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

You return her smile, instantly feeling at ease with her friendly nature. "It's great to meet you too. Glen's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," Cyndy says with a wink before pulling you into a hug. "Welcome, sweetheart."

Next, Glen's dad, Glen Sr., steps forward with a firm handshake and a nod. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength about him. "Good to have you here," he says simply, but the warmth in his tone is unmistakable.

Then, Glen's sisters Lauren and Leslie, each take their turn to greet you. Lauren gives you a friendly smile. "You're braver than I would be, meeting the whole crew at once like this. They can be a handful, but you'll be fine."

Leslie nudges Glen playfully. "You didn't warn her about us, did you?"

Glen laughs, shaking his head. "I figured I'd let you all speak for yourselves."

As you exchange pleasantries, more of Glen's friends and extended family members join in, introducing themselves and welcoming you with open arms. Someone hands you a cold drink, and before you know it, you're standing around a grill piled high with burgers, sausages, and all the fixings, soaking in the pre-game atmosphere.

The conversation quickly turns to stories about Glen's past. A few of his college buddies, each with a beer in hand, are eager to share some of their favorite memories.

"Remember that time Glen tried to impress a girl by riding a mechanical bull at that honky-tonk?" One of them starts, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, I remember!" Another chimes in. "He was so confident, strutted right up there like he was gonna show everyone how it's done. Lasted about five seconds before he got thrown off and landed flat on his back."

The group erupts in laughter, and even Glen can't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says shaking his head. "At least I gave it a shot."

Cyndy leans in closer to you, a glint in her eye. "That's nothing compared to the time he and his sister decided to 'borrow' my car when they were kids. Thought they'd take a little joyride around the neighborhood...until they crashed it into a mailbox."

"Oh no!" You gasp, unable to suppress a laugh.

Lauren grins, shaking her head at the memory. "We were grounded for months. Glen thought he was so slick, but he didn't realize the mailbox he hit belonged to one of Dad's friends."

"Yep," Glen Sr adds with a rare smile, "and that's how they learned not to mess with my car."

The easy banter and lighthearted stories quickly dissolve any lingering nerves you have. Glen's family and friends are down-to-earth, welcoming you into their inner circle as if you've always been a part of it. The more they share, the more you see the depth of their bond and the way they care for each other.

As you take another bite of your burger, you look over at Glen, who's been watching you with a soft smile. "You doing okay?" he asks quietly, leaning in so only you can hear.

You nod, feeling completely at ease now. "Yeah, I'm doing great. Your family's wonderful."

His smile widens as he places a hand gently on your back. "I'm glad you think so. They're a little crazy, but they're mine."

"And now I guess I'm part of them too," you say with a playful grin.

Glen's eyes light up at your words, and he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."

Just then, one of Glen's friends raises his drink and shouts "Hook 'em, Horns!" The entire group responds in unison, raising their hands in the iconic "Hook 'em Horns" gesture, with pinkies and index figures extended with the thumb tucked grasping the second and third fingers.

You try to mimic the gesture, but you don't quite cooperate. Glen catches your struggle and chuckles softly. "Here, let me help," he says, gently taking your hand in his.

With his warm fingers guiding yours, Glen carefully adjusts your hand, making sure your pinky and index fingers are extended and your thumb tucks the other fingers. His touch is gentle and precise, and you can't help but feel a little flutter in your chest as he concentrates on getting it just right.

"How's that?" you ask, looking up at him with a smile.

He gives your hand a final tweak before stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect," he says, his voice soft and affectionate. "Now you're officially part of the team."

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Guess I really am one of you now."

The group continues to laugh and share stories as the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The pre-game atmosphere, filled with the sounds of sizzling food, clinking bottles, and cheerful banter, is everything you imagined - and more. With Glen's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders and the "Hook 'em Horns" gesture nailed down, you feel a sense of belonging that surprises you in the best possible way.

As the tailgate winds down and the anticipation for the game grows, Glen wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the throng of excited fans heading towards the stadium. The air is filled with the sounds of chanting, music, and the collective buzz of thousands of supporters, all eager for the big game.

"Ready for the full game day experience?" Glen asks, glancing over at you with a grin.

You nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Definitely. Lead the way."

As you approach the entrance, Glen veers off towards a merchandise stand just inside the gate, keeping his promise to get you your very own Texas Longhorns shirt. The stand is awash with burnt orange and white, offering everything from t-shirts to hoodies, foam fingers, and even Longhorns-themed sunglasses.

"Okay, let's find you something," Glen says, scanning the racks of shirts. He picks out a simple, yet classic burnt orange t-shirt with the Texas Longhorns logo emblazoned across the front. Holding it up to you, he grins "How about this one?"

You take the shirt from him, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. "It's perfect," you say, already imagining yourself fitting right in with the sea of orange in the stadium.

Glen pays for the shirt and then hands it back to you. "Go ahead and try it on. Let's see how it looks."

You pull the t-shirt over your white tank top, the bright orange contrasting perfectly with your outfit. As you smooth the fabric down, Glen steps back to admire the look.

"Hold on," he says, reaching for the white Texas Longhorns baseball cap he had been wearing earlier. With a playful grin, he gently places it back on your head, adjusting the brim so it sits just right. His fingers linger for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen's gaze softens as he takes you in, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You look great," he says, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I think orange might be your color."

You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Guess I'm officially part of the team now."

"Absolutely," Glen replies, leaning in to brush a quick kiss against your forehead. "Now, let's get to our seats."

With his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders, Glen guides you through the bustling concourse and up towards the exclusive box seats he reserved for you, his family, and close friends. As you walk, you can't help but notice a few heads turning, whispers following in your wake. It's clear that Glen's presence isn't going unnoticed.

But Glen seems unfazed by the attention, focused entirely on making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "Don't worry," he says, sensing your unease as you pass by a group of fans who seem to be debating whether or not to approach. "The suite will give us a bit of privacy. It's just us and the people we want to be with."

You give him a grateful smile, relieved at the thought of a more private space. "That sounds perfect."

When you reach the suite, a staff member opens the door, revealing a spacious, comfortable area with large windows offering an unobstructed view of the field. The room is decked out with cozy seating, a fully stocked fridge, and even a table spread with game day snacks.

Glen's family is already there, mingling and settling in, and they greet you warmly as you enter. You quickly realize that this box isn't just a place to watch the game - it's a space where you can relax, enjoy the company, and soak in the experience without any interruptions.

Glen guides you to a seat near the window, right next to him. As you take in the view of the field below, and the energy of the crowd that's starting to pile into the stadium, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up.

"So, what do you think?" Glen asks, settling in beside you, his hand casually resting on your knee.

You turn to him, your smile reflecting the excitement you feel. "It's incredible."

Glen grins, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you're here," he says giving your knee a gentle squeeze. "Now, get ready for some real Texas football."

Suddenly, the lights dim, and the giant screen at the far end of the stadium flickers to life. The Texas Longhorns logo appears, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You glance over at Glen, who is grinning ear to ear, clearly caught up in the excitement.

"Here they come," he says, nodding towards the tunnel at the edge of the field.

The sound of drums fills the air as the Texas Longhorns marching band begins playing. The brass instruments gleam under the stadium lights and the rhythm of the drums pulses through the stands, making your heart beat a little faster.

As the band starts playing the school fight song, the crowd rises to their feet, the familiar tune echoing throughout the stadium. Glen stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. The sight is breathtaking - the sea of burnt orange, the flags waving proudly, and the booming voices of thousands of fans all joining together in the song.

Glen leans in close, his voice just above a whisper in your ear. "You've got to sing along, it's tradition."

You smile nervously, not sure what the words are, but Glen's enthusiasm is contagious. As the band reaches the chorus, Glen starts singing, his voice blending with the roar of the crowd. "Texas Fight! Texas Fight! And it's goodbye to A&M..."

You start to hum along to the words, your soft voice, almost drowned out by the thousands of others. But Glen's infection energy pulls you in. His eyes spark with excitement. "Louder!" he urges, his grin widening.

You laugh, feeling the last of your hesitation melt away as you throw yourself into the chant, clapping along with the beat and shouting the words with enthusiasm. Glen's pride is evident, and he can't hide his delight at seeing you get into the spirit of the game.

As the team bursts onto the field, the stadium erupts into a thunderous roar. The players, clad in their iconic burnt orange and white uniforms, charge out of the tunnel, the sight of them stirring a fresh wave of excitement into the crowd. The band crescendos into the final notes of the fight song, and the noise level reaches a fever pitch.

Glen wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the team lines up on the field. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You look up at him, your heart racing with the excitement of the moment. "It's amazing," you reply, your smile wide and genuine. "I can see why you love this so much."

As the players take their positions on the field, the atmosphere in the stadium becomes electric. The roar of the crowd swells, and you can feel the anticipation vibrating through the stands. You're fully immersed in the excitement, your earlier nerves replaced with growing enthusiasm as Glen points out different players and explains the significance of the game.

Just as you start to relax, the opening kickoff is moments away. You're leaning forward in your seat, eyes glued to the field when suddenly - BOOM!

The deafening sound of Smokey the Cannon firing catches you completely off guard. You jump in your seat, your heart racing as the shock of the blast reverberates through your chest.

Glen, noticing your startled reaction, can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, I should've warned you about that," he says, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. His laugh is warm and affectionate, and he pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's Smokey the Cannon. It fires off at every kickoff. Just part of the tradition."

You lean into his embrace, your initial fright quickly fading as you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. "I think I just aged a few years," you say with a laugh, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. "I wasn't expecting that at all."

Glen's grip tightens slightly, his way of reassuring you. "It's loud, but you'll get used to it," he says, his voice gentle and comforting in your ear. "Trust me, by the end of the game, you'll be waiting for it."

You turn your head to catch his eye, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "I'll take your word for it," you reply, your nerves settling as you take comfort in his closeness.

The game kicks off, and the action on the field immediately draws you back in. As the players clash, the crowd erupts into cheers and groans, their energy contagious. Glen keeps you close, his arm draped over your shoulders, and you find yourself getting more and more caught up in the excitement of it all.

Throughout the game, Glen is right there, guiding you through the experience. He explains the rules as plays unfold, pointing out the strategy behind each move. "See how the quarterback is scanning the field?" he says at one point. "He's looking for an open receiver, someone who can catch the ball and make a run for it."

You nod, trying to absorb the information. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," you admit, appreciating his patience.

Glen grins, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "That's what makes it fun," he says. "Once you start to understand the strategy, it's like watching a chess match...only with a lot more action."

As the game progresses, you find yourself cheering along with the crowd, your earlier nerves completely forgotten. Glen's explanations help you feel more connected to the game, and his excitement is infectious. Each time something exciting happens on the field - a touchdown, a particularly good tackle - he turns to you with a grin, eager to share the moment.

"Did you see that?" he asks after a particularly impressive play, his eyes alight with excitement. "That's what they call a 'Hail Mary' - a long pass to try and score a touchdown when time's running out."

You nod, caught up in the moment. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," you say, feeling a sense of pride as you follow the flow of the game.

Glen leans in, his voice low and full of affection. "You're doing great," he says, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here with me."

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. "Me too," you reply, feeling more at home in the stadium with each passing moment.

As the game continues, the two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm - Glen explaining plays, you cheering along with the crowd, and both of you enjoying the shared experience. It's a day filled with excitement, but also with moments of quiet connection, each one deepening the bond between you.

And by the time Smokey the Cannon fires off again, you barely flinch - too caught up in the thrill of the game and the warmth of Glen's presence beside you.

The final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in a sea of burnt orange and white. Texas has won, and the energy in the air is electric. Fans are cheering, hugging, and celebrating as the Longhorns players wave to the crowd before making their way off the field. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement, clapping along as the band strikes up the fight song one last time.

As the crowd begins to thin out, Glen helps you gather your things, and the two of you make your way out of the suite. The halls of the stadium are still buzzing with excitement, fans streaming toward the exits, chatting excitedly about the game. You notice a few people casting glances your way - recognition flickering in their eyes as they realize who Glen is.

You feel a flutter of nervousness in your chest as the looks become more frequent. The idea of being recognized, of suddenly being in the spotlight, is overwhelming. But before the anxiety can take hold, Glen reaches for your hand. His grip is firm, and reassuring, and he gives you a comforting smile.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I'm right here."

His words and his touch soothe you, and you take a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in yours rather than the curious glances around you. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Glen's presence beside you acting as an anchor, keeping you steady.

As you step out into the cool evening air, the noise of the stadium fades behind you, replaced by the more distant sounds of fans celebrating in the parking lot. The crowd is thinning out, and the atmosphere feels less intense, allowing you to finally relax.

Glen leads you to his truck, and as you approach it, he glances over at you, his expression softening. "So...your first Texas game," he says as he opens the passenger door for you. "What did you think? Did it live up to the hype?"

Your smile, climbing into the truck and settling into the seat. "It really did," you reply, your tone reflecting the surprise in your voice. "I didn't think I'd get so caught up in it, but I did. The energy, the crowd, the way everyone was so passionate...it was contagious."

Glen closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat beside you. He doesn't start the truck right away, instead turning slightly to face you, his gaze soft and warm.

"I'm really glad you came," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot to me to share this with you."

You feel your heart swell at his words, and you take a moment to let them sink in. "I'm glad I came too," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. "It's not something I ever imagined myself doing, but I'm really happy I did."

Glen reaches out and takes your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours. "You were a great sport about everything," he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Even when Smokey scared the life out of you."

You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "I'll admit, that was a bit much," you say with a grin. "But honestly, the whole experience was incredible. I see now why it's such a big deal for you."

Glen's smile widens, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, hands clasped, sharing a quiet, meaningful silence. The excitement of the day is still buzzing in your veins, but there's also a deeper feeling - a sense of connection, of understanding, that goes beyond just the game.

"I'm really happy you're here with me," Glen says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "This...it all means a lot more with you by my side."

His words hit you in a way you didn't expect, and you realize just how much this day, and this man, have come to mean to you. You squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the game or the crowd, but everything to do with him.

"I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice just as soft. "With you."

For a moment, the world outside the truck seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the parking lot. It's a moment of quiet reflection, of mutual appreciation, and as you sit there, you realize that this experience has brought you closer to Glen in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Glen starts the engine, but before he shifts into gear, he leans over and presses a tender kiss to your lips. It's soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken emotion, a perfect ending to a day you'll never forget.

As he pulls away, you both smile at each other, the bond between you stronger than ever. As the truck rolls out of the parking lot, leaving the stadium behind, you feel a sense of contentment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something truly special.

The next morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, absently twisting the brim of Glen's baseball cap between your fingers. The events of the previous day play on a loop in your mind - Glen's infectious enthusiasm, the electrifying atmosphere of the game, and the way he held your hand, guiding you through it all. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember the look in his eyes when he told you how much it meant to him to have you there.

But now, in the quiet of your room, the excitement of the game has given way to do something deeper - an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a feeling that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying. You realize that what started as casual dating has slowly grown into something more. And for the first time, you feel the need to talk to someone about it.

You take a deep breath and scroll through your contacts, landing on your mom's number. The familiar sound of the ringtone fills the room as you hold the phone to your ear, your heart beating a little faster with each passing second. Finally, you hear her voice on the other end, warm and welcoming as always.

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?" Your mom greets you, the sound of her voice instantly soothing some of your nerves.

"Hey, Mom," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm good. Just...thinking about a lot of things."

Your mom chuckles softly. "Well, it sounds like you've got something on your mind. What's going on?"

You pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before you begin. "I met somebody, and...he's really great, Mom. he's got these green eyes that I could just get lost in, and he's so sweet. He opens doors for me, he makes me laugh, and he...he doesn't make me cry." Your voice softens as you say the last part, a small admission of how different this feels from anything you've experienced before.

There's a brief silence on the other end, and then your mom speaks, her voice gentle. "He sounds wonderful, honey. Tell me more about him."

A smile spreads across your face as you think about Glen. "He's from Texas, not exactly where we're from, but...when I'm with him, he feels like home. He's got me doing things I never thought I'd do, like going to a football game." You laugh, still a little surprised at how much you enjoyed the experience.

Your mom laughs too, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. "A football game? You? Never thought I'd see the day."

"I know, right?" you reply, shaking your head at the memory. "He even gave me his hat to wear because I didn't have any Texas gear. And, Mom...I liked it. I really liked it."

There's a pause, and you can almost hear your mom's smile through the phone. "It sounds like you're really falling for this guy."

You bite your lip, the truth of her words sinking in. "I think I am," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Mama...I like him a lot. I even learned the words to the Texas Fight Song."

Your mom's laughter rings through the phone, full of warmth and understanding. "It sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger," she teases, but there's no judgment in her voice, only happiness for you.

"Maybe he does," you say, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "But...it feels right, Mom. He feels right."

Your mom's voice softens, a hint of emotion creeping in. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. Just take things one step at a time, and follow your heart."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Thanks, Mom. I will."

As you end the call, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Talking to your mom has helped you put things into perspective, and you realize that you're ready to see where things go with Glen, no matter where that may lead. The thought of him brings a smile to your face, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at what the future might hold.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction

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vinyldreamsfuckup · 4 months

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Long Time Coming

Warnings: fluff, dad slash, kissing, sexual innuendos

A: idk what this is but I just kept imaging young Slash as a dad. So this was born lol hopefully it’s not terrible. This is set in ‘95. Think of that Howard Stern interview 🫣🫣 should I write how Lily was conceived? 🙈

When you and Slash had your daughter Lily, you thought it was the best day of your lives. After months of traveling with Slash on tour you finally had given birth to Lily. You watched Slash with her. The way he would just melt every time he saw her. It honestly made you even more attracted to him. Lily had Slash’s curls and most of his features, but she had your eyes and lips. Everyone would always tell you two how much Lily looked like Slash and Slash would respond with, “But she’s got her momma’s eyes.”

It was his favorite part. The fact that she had your eyes and could see you in her. A little miniature version of the two of you. You two worked hard to raise her even while Slash was recording and going out on tour. Now touring with Snakepit Tensions were high with Guns right now, but today none of it mattered. Today was Lily’s third birthday. And she couldn’t wait to have her party with Slash here and see Uncle Axl. She came running down the hall toward Slash and you chuckled as you walked behind her. Her little curly pigtails bounced. She was wearing little jeans and converse and a pink shirt with butterflies on it.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Lily yelled as she ran toward Slash. He turned. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a baseball cap on. He was wearing some horror movie t-shirt. His bracelets jingled against his arms and his necklaces hung low. He looked so fucking hot.

“Lily! Baby,” Slash smiled and leaned down scooping her up. Lily giggled and grabbed Slash’s necklaces, “Happy Birthday.”

“Tank you!” Lily giggled out. Your heart warmed as you looked at him. She had a huge grin on her face as she looked up at Slash whose eyes were just full of love for his daughter. Slash looked up at you.

“And look at mom. She looks beautiful,” Slash said to Lily. You chuckled and walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

He turned your attention to you, “look at you.”

You were wearing a Motörhead t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special but he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You looked down at your outfit and chuckled.

“I’m wearing what I always wear,” You said with a smile as you walked toward the kitchen. Slash followed behind you.

“Yeah well you’re sexy,” Slash smiled. You chuckled and started pulling food out of the fridge for the party.

“You’re still holding our daughter,” you said with a chuckle as you pulled plastic wrap off of platters.

“Mmm,” he covered Lily’s ear, “remember how we made her?”

“Slash!” You chuckled playfully. He grinned and kissed Lily’s forehead. The doorbell rang and Slash walked over to answer it. Axl was standing at the door holding presents. Slash tried to smile and Lily started giggling.

“Axl! Axl!” Lily yelled. Slash chuckled and Axl held his hands out taking her. Soon the party was in full swing. Lily was practically death gripping Axl and you were bringing out platters of food. People were swimming in the pool and music was playing. It was beautiful.

Slash walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch and rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”

You chuckled and looked up at him, “I love you too.”

Slash turned you around and cupped our face before kissing you deeply and passionately, “we could sneak away.”

He mumbled against your lips. You chuckled, “it’s our daughter’s birthday.”

You pulled away and looked up at him. He smiled and bit his lip. He looked around, “She’d never know.”

You laughed again and kissed him. Lily ran over to us, “mommy! Daddy! Look at Uncle Axl.”

Slash pulled away and looked over at Axl who had a giant knot in his hair.

“I braid,” Lily said with a smile. Slash chuckled and picked her up. He kissed her cheek and Lily giggled.

“You sure did, my love,” Slash said with a smile.

You looked at them together and couldn’t help but feel complete. This was all you could have ever wanted.

#guns n roses #slash gnr #slash guns n roses #gnr smut #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fluff #guns n roses smut #imagine #slash fanfiction #slash fluff #axl gnr #slash x reader #slash serpentine🐍#gnr fanfiction #gnr x reader #saul hudson

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heich0e · 2 years

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lucky strike - eren yeager/f!reader (3.2k) tags: baseball player!eren, college!au, modern!au, somewhat toxic relationship dynamic, childhood friends to good luck charm/fwb, reader is blatantly trying to get in zeke's pants and also she kind of sucks, heavy petting, making out, slightly rough/manhandling, eren picks reader up, mentions of eren being a big boy, tw reader is on a diet (/makes a questionable comment about bread), eren takes out his aggression on a sandwich. NSFW MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT (18+)

“Hey, want one?” Eren asks, the words vaguely garbled through a mouthful of food.

You scroll down on your Instagram feed, thumb hovering over a selfie of friend, before glancing up at him.

Eren is on the other side of his family’s kitchen, half a sandwich hanging from his mouth, and a peanut butter coated knife poised mid-air as he looks at you.

“Ew,” you say, returning your gaze to the phone in your hands, “no.”

“What do you mean ‘ew’?” Eren asks, swallowing his bite of sandwich. “You love peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter is so bad for you,” you remark, scrolling again. “And I’m not eating bread right now.”

“What the hell is wrong with peanut butter?” Eren mutters, setting the dirty knife on the edge of the sink. He shoves a hand up underneath his baggy t-shirt to scratch idly at his tummy. “And mom just got this bread this morning from that bakery in town you like. It’s so good.”

“It’s also a simple carbohydrate which means—“

The Yeager family’s back door swings closed, and your head swivels towards the sound. In the entryway, you spot a head of blonde hair as the figure ducks down to pull off their shoes.

“Zeke!” your voice is a full octave higher—and notably more enthusiastic—when you see Eren’s older brother.

Zeke tilts his face up as he unlaces his boots.

“Hey, kid,” he laughs when he sees you draped across the kitchen counter where you sit upon your barstool, beaming at him with a wide smile, “you here again?”

You nod happily, and Eren makes a noise of disdain from the other side of the kitchen. You shoot him a pointed look to shut him up as Zeke finishes removing his shoes.

“Don’t you ever get sick of hanging out with this guy?” Zeke drawls, shuffling in and slinging an arm around Eren’s shoulders, tugging his little brother into his side.

Eren takes a large, resentful bite of his peanut butter sandwich (nearly finishing it off), while simultaneously elbowing Zeke roughly in the ribs.

“It’s torture,” you sigh dramatically. “Better now that you’re here, though.”

Zeke snorts, quirking a brow. “My occasional appearance can’t be the only reason you’ve stuck around this long—”

Eren slips out from underneath his brother’s arm, slinking towards the loaf of fresh bread on the other side of the kitchen.

“—and twenty years is an awfully long time to put up with someone like him.”

“You’re right,”—you nod solemnly in agreement—“Eren, I think we should end it here.”

Zeke barks out a loud laugh, leaning towards you on the counter with his weight resting on his elbows. He props his scruffy chin up in his palm, smiling as he tilts his head to the side.

“C’mon kid, don’t break his heart like that! He’s been following you around like a puppy since you two were in diapers.”

Eren remains silent on the other side of the kitchen, sullenly preparing another peanut butter sandwich.

“But if I keep spending all my time with him, how am I supposed to find a boyfriend?” you pout, peeking up at Zeke through your eyelashes.

“Oh, I’m sure you have no trouble in that department,” Zeke says, a blonde brow quirking in mirth and his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Much to my dear little brother’s dismay.”

Eren sets the jar of peanut butter down on the counter with a little too much gusto to be casual, snapping out a curt: “did you come over just to be annoying? Or is there actually a good reason you’re here?”

“Aww, baby brother,” Zeke coos, feigning hurt as he turns towards his brother and away from you. “I came to see you!”

Zeke reaches out for Eren, and the younger (but taller) Yeager son bats the elder’s hands away.

“Fuck off,” Eren grunts.

“How’d your game go on Friday?” Zeke asks, dropping the act and instead addressing his brother with his usual warmth. The eldest Yeager loves to tease, but he loves his younger brother even more. “Dad said you got a couple really solid knocks in.”

“Obviously,” Eren snorts as he rips a bite out of his second sandwich not dissimilarly to how a predator might devour their prey, his tone making it sound like it should be obvious that he played well.

There’s a reason he’s the star player on the Shiganshina U baseball team, after all.

“What are you batting these days?”

“Coach says it’s a .314 after last week's game,” Eren replies, wiping a bit of peanut butter off the corner of his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. “More than good enough for the National U22 team scouts.”

Eren and Zeke continue to talk baseball for a while longer, and you quickly lose interest—opting instead to watch Zeke’s profile as he chats with his brother. The sharp lines of his stubbled jaw. The delicate slope of his nose. The way the afternoon sunshine soaking in through the kitchen window over the sink makes his blonde hair burn gold.

He really is just unfairly handsome.

“-right, kid?” Zeke is smiling at you as he waits for your response to a question you didn’t hear, snapping you back out of your own thoughts.

“Hm?” you hum, blinking through your confusion. “Sorry, I missed that.”

Zeke chuckles, stepping towards you and dropping a large hand atop your head to ruffle your hair.

“I said,” he draws out the word pointedly, coming to stand behind you with his hands resting on your shoulders, “as long as you’re there, Eren’s sure to impress the scouts. You’re his good luck charm, after all.”

“Long suffering good luck charm,” you make sure to tack on, tipping your head back to look up at him, the crown of your head landing against his chest. He grins down at you.

“It’s a hard job, but if anyone can do it it’s you,” Zeke says, hands squeezing your shoulders affectionately.

You suppress a shiver at the feeling of his grip. The strength of his hands.

Pitcher’s hands, once upon a time.

“If only it wasn’t so thankless,” you sigh, feigning sorrow. You risk a peek at Eren on the other side of the kitchen from the corner of your eye, and see he’s glowering at you and Zeke’s friendly exchange.

“Oh, c’mon,” Zeke laughs, dipping down and pressing a quick, prickly kiss to your cheek. The feeling of his stubble brushing against your smooth skin makes blood rush to your head. “You know you’re this family’s favourite child. Eren would probably be in prison by now if it weren’t for your positive influence.”

Judging by the positively murderous look in Eren’s eyes as Zeke pulls away, incarceration still isn’t entirely off the table.

“Speaking of children and families,”—Zeke stands up straight and steps away from you, much to your dismay—"where are Mister and Misses Yeager?”

“Dad has that conference in Trost this week,” Eren says, his arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes their toned musculature much more evident than his baggy t-shirt betrays. “Left this morning.”

He’s talking to his brother, but his eyes are on you.

“Ah, Carla went with him?” Zeke asks curiously.

“Yep.”

“Home alone for the week, huh?” Zeke sidles up towards his brother again, poking him in the side. “You sure you don’t need me to come babysit you?”

“There’s nothing I’d hate more,” Eren says, his nose scrunching in disgust.

“Aw, little brother,” Zeke clasps a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. He sighs, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “At least I know you’ll make sure he doesn’t burn the place down, right kid?”

He winks at you.

“I’ll try my very best,” you smile cheekily. “My babysitting fees are pretty steep though.”

“Oh yeah?” Zeke quirks a brow, turning towards you on the opposite side of the counter, leaning forward on his elbows once more. “What’s the going rate these days?”

“Hmmm…”—you tap a finger to your chin in mock contemplation—“Eren’s got a game on Wednesday night. Come keep me company in the stands.”

Zeke laughs, pushing himself up onto his hands.

“You think that’s a steep price?” Zeke teases. “I know a hundred guys who’d pay for the chance to sit next to you at a game.”

“And lucky you, you get to do it for free,” you say chipperly.

“Lucky me indeed,” Zeke agrees with a nod, chuckling. “You don’t drive a very hard bargain, you know.”

“What can I say?” you shrug, utterly indifferent to the fact. Pleased by it even. “I’m not much of a businesswoman.”

Zeke opens his mouth to reply when Eren interrupts.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

You and Zeke both look at him in surprise.

His eyes are on his brother, his expression flat.

Zeke hides a laugh behind his closed fist.

“I do actually,” he replies, “I’m coaching little league tonight.”

Zeke peeks over at the clock hanging on the other side of the kitchen.

“I better head over to the field, now that you mention it.”

You watch sadly as Zeke makes his way over to the back door and prepares to leave. You and Eren both follow.

“Call if you need anything while Dad and Carla are outta town, alright?” Zeke says to his brother once he’s pulled his boots on once more.

Eren makes some sort of noncommittal grunt, shrugging as he leans against the archway into the back entryway.

“Have fun at practice, Coach,” you chirp, sneaking up behind Eren and poking your head out from behind his broad shoulders. “Go warriors!"

Zeke smiles, shaking his head.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Zeke says, eyes sliding from you to his little brother. He reaches out and knocks his fist against Eren’s chest affectionately. “Both of you.”

You wiggle your fingers in a wave as Zeke disappears through the door, slipping out of sight.

You and Eren stand there until you hear the door of Zeke’s truck slam shut and the telltale rumble as the old engine roars to life.

You’re pinned flat against the wall before the old truck even makes it out of the Yeager’s driveway, with Eren’s mouth pressed—hot and messy and greedy—to yours.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of peanut butter on his tongue.

“I hate it when you do that,” Eren whines, his teeth biting into your bottom lip. Biting, not nipping. Pinching down hard enough to hurt.

You make a little noise of complaint, squirming beneath the pressure of his broad, toned body and the equally firm surface of the wall.

Eren pulls back after a few more moments of kissing you like he’s taking it from you, his chest heaving and a viscid string of spit joining his swollen lips to yours.

“That hurt,” you complain, scrubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand. “You bit me.”

“You deserve more than a bite after that performance,” Eren counters, his eyes narrowed resentfully. “You might as well have hopped up on the counter and spread your legs for him right there. Might’ve been a little more subtle.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. You duck out from underneath Eren’s arm as it’s pressed against the wall beside your head, stepping back towards the kitchen.

“Me?” Eren guffaws. “You just spent the past twenty minutes drooling over my brother and I’m the idiot?”

“Your brother’s hot,” you say with a shrug, tossing an indifferent glance at him over your shoulder. “Can you blame me?”

Eren’s jaw sets, a rigid line as this teeth clench tight. His green eyes swim with spite.

“You’re kinda being a brat, y’know that?”

“Don’t be so jealous, Eren,” you say, your nose scrunching up in distaste. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You turn around again, a smug little smirk curling up at the corner of your lips that he can’t see with your back turned to him.

Eren’s arms are around your waist in an instant, and you’re flat on your back on the kitchen counter in the next. Eren’s hand behind the crown of your head makes sure your skull doesn’t crack painfully into the marble countertop, but it’s still cold and hard underneath you as you’re sprawled across it like a rag doll. Eren’s mouth finds yours again in another hungry, domineering kiss.

“God, how do you know exactly how to piss me off?” Eren rasps against your mouth, dragging you down the counter by the belt loops so he can grind his hips into yours.

He’s as hard as the counter underneath you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a moan caught just behind the air.

You could answer his question. You could tell him that you've had two decades to practice and perfect the skill. You could tell him you got so good at it because you know how much he likes it. But you're too distracted as Eren’s hands slip up underneath your t-shirt, pawing at whatever skin has the misfortune of falling into his grip. His hips roll against yours again, and he grabs you by the waist to pull you down into the motion, and this time you really do moan as the tip of his cock ruts against the seam of your jeans—the pressure just enough to stimulate your aching clit.

“What would my big brother would think if he knew why you really spend all your time over here?” Eren mutters, dragging his lips along your jaw, his panting breaths tickle your neck as he mouths at the impossibly sensitive patch of skin just below your ear. The one he knows drives you crazy, in just the way he knows you like so much. “What would he think if he heard the way you beg me to fuck you?”

You gasp as Eren’s teeth bite down into your neck, fleeting but firm, your hands tangling in his half-tied hair and tugging at the soft brown strands. You pull him off your neck, and he meets your gaze with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. His neck strains at the angle you’re tilting his head back, his prominent adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“I don’t beg,” you whisper breathily, but you're not sure how much truth there is to the words if history is anything to go by.

Eren smiles, the softness juxtaposed to the ragged breaths you’re both wracked by. The tenderness contrasted by the harsh pang of arousal in your gut.

“We’ll see about that.”

Eren tosses you over his shoulder and carries you up to his bedroom on the second floor like you weigh nothing. Eren’s build doesn’t betray how strong he really is—years of training and conditioning befitting of a varsity athlete hiding under the baggy hoodies and joggers he lives in everyday. It’s not the first time he’s done this to you, in fact he seems to enjoy making a show of his own strength, but it is perhaps the roughest he’s ever been as he tosses you down atop his unmade bed, crawling promptly onto the mattress atop you.

He pins your wrists down to the mattress, his hips straddling yours to confine your lower half in a similar way.

He’s so much bigger than you are; no matter how much you wiggle underneath him, there’s no chance of you slipping free.

Not that you particularly want to.

“Did you like teasing me like that?” Eren groans, grinding himself down into you and leaving you with no choice but to take it.

“I wasn’t t-teasing you,” you stutter over the words you both know string together and form a lie, your head spinning from how good it feels to have his whole weight pressed against you like this.

“You were,” Eren counters. “You flirt with Zeke just to get under my skin. To try and rile me up.”

You pant up at him, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“Did it work?” you ask breathlessly.

Eren’s lashes flutter, a little huff of air that’s not quite a laugh nor a sigh slipping from his swollen lips. He takes your hand in his—much larger, and rougher than your own—and guides it down to the swell in his sweatpants. Beneath the soft cotton you can feel his cock, hard and throbbing under your touch.

Eren’s hips jump slightly when you palm a little firmer against the shape of him of your own volition. His breathing is ragged when he fixes you in his stare, his green eyes burning with want that’s catching, like a fire consuming anything in its path.

“It always does, doesn’t it?”

You smile a little to yourself, and Eren leans down and kisses you again—it’s sweeter this time, a little needier than before. He’s kissing you like he’s asking for something rather than taking it at will.

“Strip,” he grunts, pulling back slightly and tugging hastily at the material of your top.

You look up at him through heavy lidded eyes, the boy you’ve known all your life flushed down to his neck as he watches you just as carefully as you do him. You brush a little piece of hair that hangs down over his eyes back, fingertips ghosting against the shell of his ear as you tuck the tendril behind it.

“Do it yourself,” you chirp, your lips quirking at the corner.

The fire in Eren’s eyes burns brighter, and the cycle, as ever, starts anew.

You fight, you fuck, and then you go back to being whatever the hell the two of you are—and have been all your lives—until the same wheel spins again and brings you back around to the beginning.

And come Wednesday you find yourself in the stands at Eren’s game, as usual; his long-suffering good luck charm with his jersey on your frame, and his teethmarks pressed into your skin underneath it.

Zeke sits beside you, glancing at you occasionally from the corner of his eye. He spies some evidence of just what the two of you have been up to in the days since he saw you last, but says nothing, laughing to himself at the strange dynamic the two of you have. He’s long stopped questioning it—or the role he occasionally plays as a pawn in your unusual game.

You watch Eren step up to the plate, bat in hand, and you can’t help but appreciate how nicely his tailored uniform fits his body. Can’t help but think about what you know he looks like underneath it. Can’t help but think about the promise he made to you just that morning, fucking you over the bathroom counter at his house, his lips pressed to your ear.

“The only thing you’re gonna be able to think about tonight when you’re sitting next to my brother at my game is how hard I made you cum on my cock.”

You can't help but think he's made good on it.

The pitcher at the mound in the centre of the field winds up, and you feel the palpable anticipation crackling through the stands. It’s eager and visceral, like a collectively held breath.

At home base, Eren lifts his bat. He wiggles his fingers, a ritual he always does, before his hands tighten around the grip.

You swallow thickly, your heartbeat thumping in your throat.

The bat cracks against the ball in a clean hit that sends the spectators into a roar, and Eren takes off running to first base, then to second. As he rounds his way to third, you spot the almost feral grin on his face because he knows he’s going to make it home. His eyes, though you can’t quite make out the green from such a distance, find yours in the stands.

You clench your thighs together in your seat.

Beside you, Zeke laughs, slumping back into his seat almost incredulously.

Like he just can’t believe his little brother’s luck.

#eren x reader #eren x you #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager #aot fic #aot drabble #aot writing #writing

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 4 months

Text

Shh! Pt. 1

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been overserved...what truths may come from it? Shh! Don't tell.

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. All fluffy silliness. Little bit of crack. Drunk!Dean and Drunk!Reader. Some mutual pining (sort of).

Word Count: 1,379

A/N: Okay, so I'm trying really hard to catch up with my requests. Thank you all for your patience. This fun request came from a lovely anon:

omgomgomg can you please do the giggly smut space with a drunk!dean and reader?? i love your work sm!

This bingo square was already filled, but I said I'd try to write something fun for them anyway. So, I had lots of fun with the silly antics of these goofballs, hope you enjoy. ❤️

Edit: This little one shot has turned into a two part mini-series.

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List

“Shh!” Y/N hissed with her finger to her lips as she and Dean stumbled drunkenly through the bunker door. She tried to frown at her best friend and meant to scold him for his noisiness, but he was making a goofy face as he pretended to be tiptoeing towards the stairs and she just ended up giggling loudly.

“Shh!” Dean scolded her.

“Me shush? You shush!” She said, laughing as she followed him down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, Y/N lost her footing in the grating on the steps and pitched forward. Dean turned to try and steady her, but it was too late and she knocked them both to the ground.

Dean landed on his back and Y/N landed directly on top of him.

“Oof!” Dean grunted as his fall and Y/N's weight knocked the wind out of him.

“Oh my god! Dean, I'm so sorry!” Y/N felt terrible, but her drunken mind couldn't stop laughing at the way they'd plummeted to the floor.

When he could breathe again Dean groaned and started laughing too.

“Shh!” He cautioned as he rolled Y/N beneath him. “You're gonna wake up Sam.” He said in a voice that he thought was a whisper. It wasn't.

Y/N nodded and then caught Dean's eye as her giggling subsided. For a moment their gazes connected as their laughter died away slowly, so that they were left pressed close together and staring at each other.

“You know, you're so pretty.” Dean said, his words slightly slurred. “I don't think you know that, you don't know that I think that. You are.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, YOU don't know. I told you so many times, Dean. I told you that time when there was the baseball bat, and then too, where when we were at the drive-in, and…” Y/N frowned and then shook her head. “I told you all of those times. And then more.”

Dean was nodding along with her words as though he knew what she was talking about but then he burst into laughter and Y/N joined him.

“What were we talking about?” He asked as he stood up and pulled Y/N to her feet. They leaned on each other for balance.

Y/N shook her head. “I don't actually know.” She cackled, and then shushed herself. Dean joined her.

“Shh!”

They were both holding a finger to their lips and giggling like idiots as Sam walked into the war room from the direction of his bedroom.

“Shhh-ut up. Both of you.” He said, barefooted and scowling. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt and had obviously been sleeping.

He was also obviously very annoyed. He ran a tired hand over his cheeks. “It's three in the morning, you two. What the hell are you doing coming home at this hour?”

Y/N snorted and then covered her mouth. “Sorry!” She said when Sam's frown landed on her. “You just…my mom said that when I was like fifteen. You sounded like her, for a second.”

“It's the long hair.” Dean said in a stage whisper, making Sam roll his eyes and Y/N nearly fall over laughing.

“Was your mom a really tall lady?” Dean asked as both of them fell onto each other again, and landed on their asses on the floor - the extreme hilarity taking them both out.

“Oh, Jesus.” Sam said in sleepy irritation. “I'm going back to bed. Can you both shut up and just pass out on the floor?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Dean called with salute and Y/N followed suit.

“Drunken idiots.” Sam mumbled lovingly as he padded back down the hallway to his bedroom.

Eventually Dean and Y/N stood each other up and then wandered down the other hallway towards Dean's room. When they got there, Y/N's eyes lit up when she saw Dean's vinyl collection.

“We have to play some Black Sabbath.”

She fumbled pulling the record out of its sleeve and almost dropped it.

“Hey! Careful!” Dean protested as he took the precious vinyl out of her hands.

In the end though, it took both of them to get the record on the turntable properly, and then all of their combined coordination to successfully put the needle down without scratching it. But soon Paranoid was blasting through Dean's room, and down the hallways to Sam's as well, where the youngest Winchester growled and slammed his pillow down tight over his ears.

As the song continued, Y/N grabbed Dean's hands and got him to share in a little drunken headbanging along with the wailing guitars, pounding drums and Ozzy’s slightly monotone voice. Eventually though, he let go so he could crash onto his bed.

Y/N kept dancing, offbeat and slightly awkward. Dean watched her and smiled deeply.

“This is the other time!” He called over the music.

Y/N shook her head and turned down the volume a little. “What?”

“This is the other time.” Dean repeated.

“The other time of what?” Y/N asked, scrunching up her nose and furrowing her brow in that adorable way she had.

“The other time when you're so pretty and I'm telling you, but you're not listening.” Dean sighed, suddenly sad.

Y/N stumbled over to the bed and climbed up beside him. “Why’re you…what's wrong?”

Dean shook his head. “No, you never listen to me when I'm trying to tell you. You don't get it.” His mouth dipped into a pout and Y/N was instantly contrite.

“Oh, I wanna listen to you. I do listen. You don't listen.”

Dean stared at her for a moment and then nodded resolutely. “We should write it down. Our things, our listening things. So we don't forget. Then we have to listen to both of ourselves.” Dean's eyes were wide, amazed by his incredible idea.

Y/N nodded and wobbled over for pens and paper from his desk. She brought them back and slumped onto the bed, passing out the writing materials and grabbing two hardcover books from the bedside table.

“For writing on.” She explained as she handed Dean a book.

“M’kay. Do you wanna go first?” Dean asked. “Cause…ladies? Y’know?”

But Y/N shook her head. “We could both go though.” She pointed at their separate pieces of paper.

“Oh right!” Dean said as though finally figuring out her ever-so-complicated plan.

Then they both bent their heads to their task, but after only a few minutes, their pens stilled and their heads drooped towards each other and then banged together gently as they both fell into drunken oblivion.

Twenty minutes later Sam barged into Dean's room no longer able to take the screaming Black Sabbath. He immediately noticed that both of his drunken idiots were sound asleep and snoring, and he sighed, giving his head a shake.

He took the needle off the record and shut off the record player before he walked quietly up to the bed and rolled his eyes indulgently as he saw Y/N with her head on Dean's shoulder and Dean with his head laying on top of her head.

They’re both gonna have such stuff necks in the morning. He thought.

He picked up the papers and books from their laps. He was about to throw the pages away but then he read them. His smile grew wider and wider as he read what they'd each written.

Neither had actually finished, but they were both saying the same thing:

“Finally.” Sam whispered with an affectionate eye roll. “Friggin’ idiots.”

He took the papers and walked to the kitchen. Grabbing two strong magnets he posted the letters in plain sight where they couldn't be missed, even by two fools with raging hangovers, before he shut off the lights and went back to bed.

Part 2

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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#dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #fic request #dean winchester crack fic #dean winchester

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