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gurugirl · 2 days

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Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h

Summary: Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

A/n: Requested! This was previously posted on Patreon!

Word Count: 4,385

Warning: Smut, cock warming, exhibition kink (public), daddy kink, DDlg (consented and role play understood), dom/sub dynamic

🌸 🌸 🌸

“Princess? What are you doing?” Harry spoke calmly as he placed his hands on your hips while you balanced yourself on the counter to reach the tallest cupboard.

“I can’t reach this high so I had to climb up here to get something.”

“And why didn’t you ask me for help? Hmm?” He gripped you in his hands and pulled you down to the floor safely.

You’d been caught red-handed. Well, sort of. You hadn’t quite found what you were looking for before Harry noticed you climbing on the counter. It was the package of butter shortbread cookies with the strawberry jam and cream in the center that you were trying to find. Harry hid them from you because every time he brought home your little treats you’d ruin your appetite for dinner and so it was just easier for him to put them somewhere you couldn’t find them.

Pouting you kicked your bare foot against your shin, “Just didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his bottom into the counter as he smirked at you, “Oh is that so? And what were you looking for then?”

You shrugged and looked up at him with your sweetest softest eyes as you bit your lip. He knew what you were looking for. He didn’t even need to ask.

Harry sighed and walked past you to the pantry and reached to the tall shelf pulling down your treats. You smiled widely and clasped your hands together, waiting patiently for him to dole out a few of them to you.

“You don’t have to sneak around, Princess. If you want a little treat I’ll give you a little treat. Just ask. But tell Daddy why he hides these from you. Want to make sure you remember.”

Nodding you responded, “Cause I’ll eat the whole box. Then I won’t eat my dinner. And my tummy always hurts after.”

“That’s right. Because you’re like a little puppy with no off switch when it comes to your treats. You’d inhale the whole package if given the chance.”

“But I just wanted one this time. Promise.”

“You never just want one, Y/n,” he took your chin in his hand, “How many do you want?”

“Can I have three?”

Harry smiled and let go of your chin as he reached into the package and pulled out four of your cookies, handing them to you. He always gave you an extra.

“Thank you, Daddy!” You bit into the first one, the buttery crust of the cookie crumbling into the tart strawberry jam with the cream coating your tongue. “Mmmm…”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Don’t climb up on the counters like that anymore. Okay? Can’t have you getting hurt over a $5 box of biscuits.”

You sighed and nodded as you chewed your next bite and then followed Harry up to his office where he was finishing work. When he sat down in his chair you sat in his lap and popped the next cookie into your mouth. Harry was used to you interrupting his work and sitting in his lap. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he preferred having you in his lap as often as possible.

“Don’t forget we’re going out tonight. I want you to wear that yellow dress I laid out for you on the bed. Okay?”

You crunched your bite and nodded as you leaned back into Harry’s chest and watched his computer screen as he did whatever it was. You didn’t really even know exactly what he did for work. Something about trading money and buying and selling things or funds or… he tried explaining it to you a few times but it went over your head. All you knew was that he got to work from home and he made a lot of money.

Life was good with Harry. You never imagined you’d have it so good. You didn’t have it easy when you were growing up. When you graduated high school you worked full-time so you could pay rent and buy food. You moved away from your dad the moment you had the chance. He was abusive and mean and he scared you.

So you didn’t go to college because your priority was to get away from your dad which meant you’d need to pay rent for a place to live. But you struggled for a long time. You only made minimum wage and you had no friends or any other family to ask for help. Your dad saw to it that any friends you made didn’t stick around.

And back then, even as hard as it had been working menial jobs and living in a rundown apartment barely scraping by, you were free from your dad. Sure things were expensive and you couldn’t always buy groceries, but you could sleep at night knowing you were safe.

But everything changed for you when you got a job as a waitress at a swanky little downtown joint. High rollers wearing expensive watches and Italian shoes would come in with large wads of cash. And the best part was that the tips they left were very very generous.

In a way, it was your lucky break. You started making a living wage when tips were included in your check and you bought yourself a used car with cash. You were able to afford health insurance, a few nice outfits, and could finally have a refrigerator full of food.

It felt like you were living in the lap of luxury. You weren’t, but you’d never felt such freedom in your life. Waitressing was a good gig for you. You were bubbly and nice and often remembered the names of your usuals. They loved it when you remembered their names.

One night, it was an extra busy shift and you’d been struggling to keep up a bit since two people had called in and you were running around every which way trying to make sure all your tables were well taken care of.

A group of four men were seated in your section and you greeted them but one of them could tell you were flustered. Taking their drink orders you scribbled on your notepad what they wanted when one of the men reached out to pull at your apron, “Take a breath, Y/n.”

You squinted your eyes at him when he said your name. You had a nametag of course, so it wasn’t like some crazy thing that he’d know your name, but your guests didn’t normally say your name to you unless they were regulars. And this man was not a regular.

“I’m serious. Take a deep breath, with me,” he kept his dazzling green eyes pinned to yours as he inhaled and you followed his lead, inhaling and then he exhaled, his breath falling from his pink lips. “See? That wasn’t bad, was it? Now, remember to keep breathing. Inhale, exhale.”

You smiled at the handsome man, “Thank you.”

“My name’s Harry.”

You giggled pointed at your name tag, “Y/n. As you know.”

“Beautiful name.”

Somehow Harry had made your busy and hectic night one of the best nights you’d ever had at the restaurant. He was so thoughtful and gentle with you. And he was handsome as hell. Tall and well built, nice hair, big hands…

So when he showed up a week later you were out of your mind giddy because he was in your section. And his genuine warmth had you flushing hot and made you all exasperated and blubbering your words.

Only that second night, instead of just paying the tab and leaving with a wave goodbye he walked up to you and handed you his card as he softly dragged his fingers over your wrist, “When’s your next day off?”

“Tomorrow,” you inhaled as you looked up at him.

“Call me tomorrow.”

So you did, obviously. And really the rest is history. Harry swept you off your feet and took such good care of you that now here you were two years later and still just as smitten with him as the day you met him.

. . .

You loved getting dressed up and going out with Harry, your big strong man who treated you like a princess. You were spoiled and doted on by him and when he took you out he was always so protective of you. Keeping your hand in his or his arm over your shoulder to hold you close.

He normally helped you pick your outfits too. You usually went with whatever he chose to make him happy. He liked having access to your skin so he could squeeze you and touch you which meant he liked you in short dresses and skirts the most. And anything that kept your shoulders bare so he could kiss them.

And depending on what kind of outing it was, he’d let you know if you were allowed to wear your panties or not. That was one decision you were not allowed to make.

Harry pulled out a pair of cotton panties with little hearts all over. Something that covered your bum in case the flimsy material of your short dress rose up.

“Gotta keep your tush covered tonight, Princess,” he said as he pointed at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down so he could help you put your panties on.

“Okay, Daddy,” you bit your lip as Harry knelt down on the floor in front of you and lifted up one of your bare feet, sliding the opening upward and then repeating on your other leg.

He liked to make a show of how he did it. Slow and teasing. He brought the fabric up to just below your knees and ran his hands up your thighs as he kept his eyes on yours, “Doesn’t mean Daddy won’t want to play with you, though. Pussy’s so good for me s’hard to resist. Maybe we’ll have you in my lap again. Let you sit on my cock right in front of all your friends. And you’ll be a good girl just like last time and keep quiet and not shift all around. How’s that sound? Wanna warm Daddy’s cock tonight when the time is right?”

You nodded and grinned, “Oh my god… I loved it when we did that so much. Love that no one knew except you, Daddy.”

By the time Harry had helped you into your panties, you were already slick from the dirty things he was saying to you and the way he was running his thumbs so close to your pussylips but just missing where you wanted to be touched.

You were meeting friends out for trivia night at the little pub that served the best pizza in town. Harry had his hand wrapped around yours as you both greeted everyone and sat at the booth with them all.

You weren’t sure how it would be possible to cock warm Harry given how many people were smushed into the booth with you both but when he pulled you into his lap, grunting, “S’not enough room, get up in m’lap,” you understood he wasn’t going to let you worry about all that. Harry was in charge. He would figure out how it would work. All you had to do was sit there, perched on his lap looking pretty.

He didn’t make a move to undo his pants or adjust you at all, first just feeling everyone out as you sat with your plush bottom over his thighs and ordered your vodka lemonade.

When the cards were all passed out and the trivia questions began to pop up on the screen everyone had their teams ready. All your friends knew better than to ask which team you wanted to be on because they already knew your answer would be that you were on whatever team Harry was on.

Maybe it was a little pathetic but you honestly didn’t care. He was the love of your life and your best friend. He loved you so much and treated you like you were the best thing that’d ever happened to him and so of course you were going to choose to be with Harry. Even if it was just for a trivia game at a bar.

His big palm splayed across your bare thigh as he whispered into your ear, “I love you.” You wiggled into him and turned to whisper back, “Love you, Daddy.”

It was sickening to everyone around you but also kind of cute in a way. You two were that couple. PDA was part of the package deal if they wanted to hang out with you. The first six months everyone kind of laughed it off. They said you two would chill out once the honeymoon phase was over. But here you were nearly 2 years later and if anything you two were even more touchy-feely.

Trivia nights were once a month. Harry liked to make sure you were spending time with other people and not just him. He wanted you to have friends and get out as much as you could.

When the game started and the pizza was plated you felt Harry’s arm slide around the front of your waist as you wrote down the answer that was discussed between your team. You were always the one in charge of writing down the answers.

“Take it easy on that vodka lemonade, Princess. Need you to have your wits about you when we get home. Okay?”

You nodded and turned to whisper in his ear, cupping around the back of it so no one could read your lips, “When are you gonna stuff me with your big cock, Daddy? Want you inside of me.”

Harry grunted and pinched your thigh shushing at you before he gulped down the last of his water. Harry didn’t drink when you two went out if he was driving. He let you drink but he didn’t like to have any alcohol in his system if he was going to be behind the wheel.

When the game was nearly coming to an end and your team was winning the final round the final category was music, as usual. 30 seconds of a song you had to guess was played for 10 songs. You could double your points if you knew both the name of the artist and the name of the song.

This was the part of the night when the people were boozed up and laughing.

Mel, who was sitting to Harry’s left tapped his arm, “Gotta go take a leak, mind if I scooch out?”

You and Harry had to move to let Mel out but when you both got back into the booth you scooted further in and realized Harry’s cock was solid under your bum. You leaned forward, putting your elbows onto the table, and felt Harry spread your skirt over his lap before he lifted his hips and the next song to guess came over the speakers.

You were distracted by Harry’s movements so you weren’t taking note of the song at all until Gessie poked your wrist with her finger, “So I think that was Bruce Springsteen. But what’s the song?” She snapped her fingers and looked at the other person who was on your team. As the pair were discussing which song it could be you felt the warm, stiff flesh of Harry’s dick under your thigh and you lifted just a bit to blurt out the name of a song you thought of off the top of your head, “Glory Days?”

Your panties were pulled to the side before you felt Harry’s fingers slip through your puffy, wet folds and then he pulled at your hips to draw you back toward him, only this time instead of sitting on his lap, you slowly, slowly slid over his cock. Your skirt was covering him and everything happening underneath.

You sighed when you had him stuffed inside of you and he panted softly into your ear, “Don’t wiggle around too much. Just sit still like a good girl.”

See, wiggling too much might have Harry coming. It’d happened before. The first time you cock warmed him in public (yes, there were multiple occurrences) you were so turned on and flustered that you kept swaying back and forth and squeezing around him. And he tried holding you in place but the whole experience of doing something like that in public was new for both of you. You were both excited and it didn’t help that you were pulsing around him and softly moaning.

When he came he had to act like you’d elbowed him in the gut when someone asked if he was okay. His pained expression and groan were easily played off as something rather innocent.

But Harry preferred coming inside of you only when it was an appropriate time. Usually in private but sometimes in the sex club you both frequented. You did have an exhibitionism kink so fucking at the sex club while others watched was welcome. But not at a local bar during trivia night.

When Mel returned you and Harry didn’t need to move as he sat at the end. You struggled to write down the last few answers as you began to pant softly and felt the liquid from your pussy dribble down.

“I’m gonna get your pants all messy, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Harry rocked his hips up and you gasped as he adjusted your seating and pulled you closer, “It’s fine baby. You’re doing so good for me.”

And as much as you loved the thrill of secretly cock warming Harry like you were, there was always the issue of parting. If anyone was sat too close they’d see Harry’s cock in all its glory once you removed yourself from him. So you had to be careful about how it was done. Normally you’d order one last drink just as everyone else was paying their bill and getting ready to leave, that way when you two were the last to leave no one really wondered why since you still had a full drink to get through.

And that’s what you did this time as well. Mel hung around for a bit and you just hoped he couldn’t tell you were practically trembling from the way Harry’s cock was splitting you in half right in front of the guy as he yammered on about his job with Harry.

Your skin was hot and you were nearly drooling into your vodka lemonade at the way it felt.

You could tell Harry was at his wits end as well. You’d feel him throb every now and then. The small grunts he’d let out were also a good signal that he was struggling just as much as you were.

The moment Mel slid out of the booth and waved goodbye Harry’s hand was up, motioning to the waiter to ask for the bill for you two. He held your hips and rocked upward a couple of times before he began to pull out of you, “Nice and easy. Oop, stop right there,” he tightened a hand on your hip to keep you steady as he slid his pants up and kept your skirt covering the action.

You were a wobbly, sighing mess of a girl as he got you into his car and took you home.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby. Gonna take away that achiness inside, yeah?” He spoke to you as you were pulled into the house before he lifted you up and carried you to the bed.

You were in a hurry. You needed him right then as you whined and began to pull at your panties but Harry swatted at your thigh, “Let Daddy do it. You just lie there and look pretty for me. My little Princess doesn’t need to lift a finger.”

That was the norm. He preferred you to lay comfortably all spread out underneath him while he did all the work.

He loved the sight of you. Your skin was hot and your limbs were already shaking with need by the time he finally began to lick your pussy. Soft strokes with his tongue only got you even more worked up and had you whimpering and fussing about, “P… please! Daddy!!”

Harry grinned into your pussy, pushing his briefs down his muscled thighs, lips wrapped around your clit as you bucked up into him and pulled at his hair. You were a mess. You needed one thing and one thing only.

“Daddy I need your cock, now!! I’m gonna die if I don’t get it! Oh my god, you’re so mean!”

You felt puffs of air against your wet slit as he laughed and looked up at you, “You’re going to die are you? Wow. That sounds like it’s bad, baby. Tell Daddy what he did that was mean,” he leaned over you, his strong arm reaching over your body to knead at your tits.

You pouted and lifted your head to look at him. You hadn’t even realized he’d already removed his briefs so he was fully naked, cock thick and hard between his thighs, “You… you’re not giving me your dick. And I need it.”

Another breathy laugh fell from his lips, “But I was licking your pussy. Making sure you were ready for me, Princess. Can’t just fuck my pretty girl without her little pussy hole being ready first now can I?”

You sniffled and kept the sad pout on your face so he knew you meant business.

Harry moved his hand up to your chin and squeezed your cheeks, “Don’t pout. Daddy always gives his pretty girl exactly what she wants. Doesn’t he?”

You nodded with a whine.

“That’s right. So don’t be a dramatic bellyaching brat with me. I’m just loving on you, Princess. Trying to take care of you the best I can. You’re hard to please sometimes.”

“Am not!” You countered, your words smushed together as you said them.

Harry let go of your cheeks and you felt him knee up between your legs, his thick masculine thighs pushed against the insides of your thighs as he smoothed his thumb over your mound and down to your clit, “You are. But that’s okay. Because you’re my little princess, aren’t you? She needs her Daddy to take good care of her.”

You began to take shallow breaths into your lungs as you watched him wrap his big hand around his cock and look into your eyes as he reared back, “And Daddy always gives his pretty girl what she wants. Do you know why, baby?”

You sighed as you felt the tip of him press against your empty hole. You wanted it so bad you could taste it, “Because I’m a good girl. Cause you love me, Daddy.”

“Fucking right, Princess. Daddy loves you,” he pressed into you, the girth of him opening your channel in one satisfyingly agonizing plunge. He didn’t snap his hips, but he drove into you until he was finally surrounded, encased fully in your pussy. And as he pulled you close to his chest he continued rocking into you with slow, languid strokes. Full length. He’d pull out to his tip and fuck back into you without pause until he met your cervix and he’d do it again. Nothing hard or fast. Just strong, deep, and teasingly slow.

His breath was on your face as he looked down into your eyes, “God… how’d I get so lucky, huh? Someone who needs me just as much as I need her.” He rolled into you slowly, the sopping mess between your legs just proving his point.

He fucked you dumb most nights. But some nights he was tender and warm. Sometimes he liked to take it slow and gaze into your eyes as he slid himself in and out of you, calling you his princess, his pretty girl, baby…

“Mm… me too!” You breathed out, “So lucky, Daddy. I love you…”

He dropped his lips to your neck as he continued fucking into you at the same pace he had been. Dripping wet, sticky, deep thrusts as you both panted.

You began to buck your hips upward to meet each of his thrusts. You couldn’t help the motion your hips were making as you moaned when Harry took your breast into his mouth.

He sucked on your nipple and felt your cunt squeezing him tight. You were so close already, like he knew you would be. You’d gotten all worked up cock warming him earlier and now you were gagging for it.

“You’re like a little slip-and-slide, pretty girl. Pussy all slippery and soaking wet just for my cock.”

“Uhnnnghh…” you groaned as you felt your insides begin to tingle and sparkle.

“You can come, Princess. Come on Daddy’s cock. I know you want to,” he panted, his own orgasm about to burst, “Easy there…”

You began to shake, your tummy tensed and your pussy clamped down as you sputtered out your words, “Coming! C… ffffuuu… Daaaaady!”

The beautiful spiral of your orgasm wiped you out as Harry continued fucking into you, his cock spreading your walls apart as you spasmed over him, “Pretty girl… so fucking good for Daddy…”

But he could only last so long himself until he was pinning you to the bed with his hips, cock buried deep as he dumped his fertile come into your pulsing hole, “Fuck! Fuck… oh shit…” his face twisted up in bliss.

It had been a bit of a quickie. But who could blame you? After suffering through what you had to during trivia, you both needed relief.

You ran your fingers into his hair and he nuzzled into your neck with a sigh. You both needed a minute to gather your bearings.

When you felt Harry shifting and pulling back so he could look down at you he slid a hand around to your bottom, “Let’s go get your cookies, baby,” he squeezed at your bum as you sat up.

“How many can I have?” You bounced on your bottom before you began to scoot to the end of the bed to hop off.

“As many you want, Princess.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! 2nd part is a Patreon exclusive and is already on Patreon now! Consider joining if you'd like to see more!

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odetojupiter · 3 days

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i often wonder whether the reason wymack is so lenient with andrew is bc andrew reminds him so much of himself. he’s fiercely, violently protective - something wymack can understand, as he beat his dad up for hurting his mother - and andrew is honestly a lot more aligned in the giving-people-an-extra-chance-than-they-thought-they’d-get ideology than the upperclassmen are.

think, andrew only accepting the fox contract bc nicky and aaron could get their degrees as well - something that would have been years off for aaron without a scholarship, and wouldn’t have been done at all (at least, not in the states) for nicky. think, kevin getting the chance to learn to stand on his own feet, neil getting the chance to learn to stop running, both bc of andrew. even his method of getting aaron clean gives aaron the chance to do what he wants with his life - though, it obviously could’ve been handled better, i believe that andrew chose to lock aaron in the bathroom because he knew that aaron wanted to go to med school, to become a doctor, which would have become a lot more difficult if he’d had rehab on his record. even with matt, though again his methods aren’t great, andrew gives him the opportunity to get sober for good. he’s constantly giving people the chance to deal with their issues for good, not by coddling them but by forcing them to turn around and face them head on. as far as giving out extra chances at life goes, that’s a pretty solid way to get people to turn their own life around for the better.

in fact, andrew goes out of his way to tell renee that he won’t break his neck for the upperclassmen, so that renee knows she should watch their backs. he didn’t have to tell her anything, he could’ve just left them all to their own devices, but he still gave them the opportunity for safety even tho they’d already written him off completely by that point.

idk maybe this analysis is off and ppl don’t agree with me but even in the books andrew is said to be ‘collecting strays’, which is exactly what wymack does.

just - wymack and andrew are very similar, and i love their relationship to bits.

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #david wymack

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emmyrosee · 16 hours

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Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰

oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)

———

“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”

“Okay.”

“And her melts are in the cabinet!”

“I know, I live here too.”

“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“

“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”

“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.

But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”

You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”

“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“

“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”

Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”

“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”

“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”

“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.

He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“

“Sukuna!” You snap.

“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.

The colors are good stimulation.

“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?

A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.

By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.

He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”

With that, you come home.

He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”

“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”

“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“

“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”

When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”

Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.

He loves that his small family fits in his arms.

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hqbaby · 3 days

Text

nine — whatcha reading?

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.2k content. profanity, mentions of injury, descriptions of sex, horny thoughts

Satoru is the perfect boyfriend. He’s romantic and sappy in all the best ways. He’ll show up for surprise dates and wait outside classrooms to hand you a cup of coffee. He’ll give you flowers “just because,” boxes of donuts, teddy bears, bracelets—”just because.” He’ll stay up to keep you company while you work on your papers. He’ll be there for you, anytime, anywhere, just for you.

Satoru is the perfect boyfriend. He’s also ridiculously good at lying about it.

“She’s not here.”

Satoru starts as Kimi’s voice drifts in behind him. He turns to look at her with that quintessentially perfect smile.

“What are you talking about?” he asks innocently.

Kimi just looks at him, unperturbed. “She’s not here,” she repeats. “She’s out for a week. Got injured in the middle of her last game.”

Satoru furrows his brows at her, like he has no idea what she’s talking about. “Who?”

She says your name. He pretends to be shocked by the news.

“I know you were there,” she tells him before he can fake a reaction. “Michiko went to watch her girlfriend. She saw you.”

If there’s one thing Kimi is not, it’s a fool. She’s well-aware that Satoru is in fact not over you. She’s under no illusion that he’s in love with her. The only reason why she’s in this situation in the first place is because her friends wouldn’t stop hounding her about being single for too long and Satoru asked her out at just the right time.

This isn’t a relationship built on love. It’s just a way for them both to pass the time.

Satoru scratches the back of his head in guilt. “I wasn’t hiding it or anything,” he tells her. “I just—”

She raises her hand. “It’s fine,” she says. “I don’t really care.”

She turns to walk away, but Satoru catches her shoulder. He slides an arm around her and nuzzles into her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Kimi just hums, handing him her bag as they walk away from the tennis court to the parking lot, and Satoru starts to list all the things he wants to do with her this week. She looks at him, his eyes all bright as he talks about this new coffee shop that Naoya told him about, and she wonders if he’s just pretending like her—or if he’s actually convinced that he’s selling this whole act.

That he wholeheartedly believes he’s somehow tricked her into believing this.

He turns to her when they get in the car. He tilts his head to the side and flashes her a grin.

“I love you,” he says without an ounce of hesitation.

And all at once Kimi realizes that he’s not trying to trick her.

He’s trying to trick himself.

“Can you get the remote?”

“Sure.”

“Can you charge my phone?”

“Sure.”

“Can you make popcorn?”

“Sure.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Sure—what?”

You, Nobara, and Maki burst into laughter as Sukuna gawks at you from the kitchen where he has dutifully started opening the box of popcorn packets you keep on the top shelf (supposedly to limit your access to it and prevent you from eating too much). He drops the box on the counter and proceeds to sulk.

“It’s funny,” you say like you’re trying to convince him. “You know, you don’t have to baby me. It’s just a sprain.”

He quirks a brow at you. “You say that as if you don’t like being babied.”

“Ew,” Nobara says, grimacing. “You’re such a cheesy fake couple.”

“She loves it,” Sukuna says, picking up the popcorn and reading the instructions on the back of the box. “Right, tiger?”

You toss a sock in his general direction. “I’m gonna kick you out.”

He nods, popping the packet into the microwave. “Sure, sure.”

The three of them are in your apartment against your wishes. After your game a few days ago ended with a doctor telling you that you had a sprained ankle—nothing bad, something you could get over in a week or so—they took it upon themselves to act as your primary caretakers. Sukuna has driven you practically everywhere, Nobara has all but carried you to your classes, and Maki has seen to getting you all the food, painkillers, and ice packs that your heart desires.

It’s annoying, having them hover all the time and treat you like an infant, but you have to admit that it hasn’t been all that bad. You don’t think your apartment has seemed this bright since the breakup. So it’s not all bad. Not at all.

“You have to study,” you remind Maki as she leans back into the armchair she and Nobara are sharing. “You should really head back to your dorm. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

She shakes her head. “You need me.”

“I don’t.”

“How are you gonna pee?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe I’ll do this thing called walking?”

Maki glares at you and shoves Nobara as the other girl attempts to take over more space on the chair. “You have to rest,” she tells you. “The doctor said so.”

“She actually said that it’s good for me to walk a little,” you say, frowning as your friend attempts to become one with the chair. “Please. I’d feel terrible if you started flunking your classes because of me.”

“I can study here,” she says stubbornly.

“You’ve done enough,” you say. You look at Nobara. “You need to do your laundry. You can’t keep wearing the same jeans forever.”

She sticks her tongue out at you. “You can’t make me leave, bitch.”

Sukuna walks into the room now with a bowl of popcorn. He offers some to your friends, allowing them to take handfuls, before he settles on the floor beside the couch you’re on. He holds the bowl out to give you easy access.

“I can stay with her for the night,” he tells your friends. “And she’s right. The doctor did say moving around would be good for her.”

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief at someone actually listening to you for once. You turn back to your friends. “Don’t make me beg.”

Nobara looks over at Sukuna with the same scrutinizing gaze she always looks at him with. She has to admit that she doesn’t wholly hate the guy as much anymore, not with how helpful he’s been these past few days. Despite their differences, they do have a common ground: You.

“You won’t abandon her for a booty call?” she asks.

Sukuna nods. He picks up a piece of popcorn that you dropped on the floor and sets it aside to throw out later. “I got this,” he reassures her. “You guys should go rest.”

Nobara turns to Maki. They share a look that you can only describe as uncertain but relenting. She looks back at Sukuna. “Fine.”

After much stalling, the two girls eventually find their way out of your apartment, calling their goodbyes and promising to see you the next day behind them before Sukuna waves a final time and closes the door. He leans on the wall and slides down to his knees as he exhales loudly, keeping his eyes on you.

“Why do they love you so much?” he asks. “What kind of spell have you placed on them?”

You chuckle. “I’d give my heart to either of them if they needed it.”

Sukuna rolls his head to the side and smirks. “What if I needed it?”

You pretend to mull over the question, chewing at a bit of popcorn as you do. “I dunno,” you say. “Depends on the situation.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he whines. “I’ve known you longer than they have.”

“Tough luck, bud,” you tell him. “It’s girl code.”

He gets up and walks over to you to flick your forehead. “Mean,” he says, smiling down at you. “Do you need anything else?”

You look over at the pool of supplies that Maki has gathered on the coffee table beside you. “A pile of cash, if you have it.”

“Sorry, I’m all out.”

“That’s too bad.”

Sukuna nods and ruffles your hair. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he tells you. Then, with a warning, “Don’t get up while I’m not here.”

“Bossy,” you say teasingly.

He wags a finger at you. “I’m serious. Be good.”

You flash him a self-satisfied grin. “Yes, daddy.”

“Ew.” He pretends to gag as he walks away. “I’m telling your mom that her daughter is a freak.”

You watch as he disappears into the bathroom. When the door closes behind him, you stretch out on the couch and reach for one of the books Nobara left you. It’s one of those trashy romance novels that she insists she only reads for entertainment but manages to go on a whole rant about when you ask her about them.

This particular book has been tame for the most part, a few chaste kisses from the lead characters, but nothing as wild as the ones Nobara often tells you about. You’ve only just started to believe that maybe it isn’t that kind of book when one character starts to undress another. Then they’re touching. Then the guy slips his hand between the girl’s legs. Then there’s a squelch, a moan, a cock.

Before you know it, you’re reading an absolutely filthy sex scene, complete with sighs, with groans, with thrusting. At some point, there’s a shift into a position you haven’t even considered humanly possible, and yet here it is, all written out for you to read as you feel your face heat up at the obscenity of it all.

You’re so engrossed in the book that you don’t realize Sukuna’s already stepped out of the bathroom and that he’s been watching you flip through pages with the most focused expression on your face for the past few minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

You practically hurl the book across the room. “Holy shit!” you exclaim, clutching a hand to your chest. “Announce yourself next time!”

He cackles as you will your heart to stop beating so fast. “You’re too easy to startle.”

You open your mouth, about to shoot back some kind of annoyed response, but the words die in your mouth when your eyes finally focus on Sukuna.

He’s leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile on his lips. Nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that the only thing he has on is the thin towel wrapped around his waist.

From your place on the couch, you take in his entire appearance. Wet hair and bare skin. His shoulders bulge, thick muscles still slightly damp with water. The tattoos that run across his arms and chest are dark against his fair skin, the patterns curling over his naked torso. His abs are firm, protruding on his stomach like they’re made of stone. And then there’s the trail of hair tracing from his navel down to—

“Like what you see?”

You quickly pull your gaze back up to his face. You swallow.

“Fuck you,” you is all you can say before your best friend bursts into laughter again and heads into your bedroom.

You sit with yourself for a moment, trying to understand what just happened. All you can think is, Was he always this fucking hot?

Sukuna reemerges from your bedroom. He’s dressed now, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He dries his hair and walks towards you.

You do your best to avoid his eyes.

“Wanna go to bed?” he asks, clearly oblivious to the internal crisis you’re having right now.

You toy with the hem of your shirt and clear your throat in an attempt to ground you back in reality. You can’t start thinking that your best friend is hot right now. That’s just wrong.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you say, swinging your legs off the side of the couch. You’re about to get up when Sukuna crouches down to slide his arm beneath yours. You jerk away from his touch.

He frowns, pulling back at your sudden reaction. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Does your ankle hurt?”

You don’t even get to answer before he’s kneeling down in front of you, his hand going to inspect your ankle. You swear your skin is going to melt at just how hot his touch feels.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, slightly panicked as you shift your leg out of his grasp. “I can—I can walk by myself.”

He looks up at you and you think your heart might just explode.

There he is, kneeling between your legs, looking at you with concern, unaware of the fact that there’s a steady warmth growing between your thighs.

“Are you sure?” he asks, but you’re already getting up on wobbly legs and shuffling over to your bedroom. He catches up to you, because of course he does, and holds his arm out for you to hold. Exasperated, he says, “Just let me help you, tiger.”

Relenting, you grab onto him and let him lead you to the room. When you get to the door, you grab it, holding onto it for support as you use it to slowly push him out. “Okay, I can do it from here,” you tell him through the crack between the door and the frame. You offer him an easy smile. “Goodnight.”

Sukuna looks more than puzzled, but he just nods and waves. “Night.”

He watches as you firmly close the bedroom door, leaving him to stand in front of it, wondering, What the fuck just happened?

notes. reader reading smut is me like sometimes i just don’t know what to do with myself but i also can’t stop reading 😩 how are we feeling after this chapter sukuna girlies??

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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kings-wifey · 2 days

Text

One Piece men taking care of you while you're sick ❤️

(I have a sore throat right now so I desperately need someone to take care of me-)

Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law.

word count: 677

Zoro

"I told you that this would happen!" He growled, incredibly irritated with you for having gone against his words as he idly played with your hair, his signature stone-cold resting face had practically pierced the air, making things rather silent.

He was sat next to your bedside, having had to give up training today as Chopper was out foraging for medical supplies and ingredients due to Luffy having eaten a whole container of flavoured vitamins because "they tasted good", of course he didn't actually mind taking care of you it was just that your stubbornness really pissed him off at times.

"I swear, once your ass is better I'm going to break you."

"Hm... in what way?" You teased him, a cocky smirk on your red sickly face, earning you a groan and a rough poke.

"You cocky little..."

Sanji

"Open wide my darling," He spoke softly, spoon feeding you soup like an infant, his voice was a tad bit raw due to him crying since he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for allowing his baby to get sick. His guilt stemmed from his mother's passing as a child, the gnawing feeling that he could've done something if he was stronger or actually knew how to care for someone at the time having scarred him, which of course wasn't his fault whatsoever but he'd never accept that nor forgive himself for not being able to take away his mother's pain.

He did not care what so ever that you could get him sick, you were his baby and you needed care! He watched with a soft smile as he saw you slowly eating the soup by each spoonful, admiring the way your soft lips wrapped around the spoon.

"What? Wish this was your dick?" You teased, mumbling slightly as you ate. You chuckled at the way he gasped and blushed as his hand attempted to hide the growing evidence of his arousal.

"Baby!"

Ace

"Babe you sound like Dadan-" Ace wheezes as he teases you, causing him to receive a slap from Marco who was monitoring your temperature. "Shut it. She needs to rest." He scolds your boyfriend sternly before stepping outside to dig through the ship's storage for more herbs, Ace takes the opportunity to climb into the infirmary bed with you and wrap his arms around you like a toddler cuddling their favourite toy.

The truth was, although he did try to hide it, he was horrified of you suddenly becoming seriously ill. He loved you a lot, it was just that he loved your pout and you whines of annoyance almost as much, which was why he'd always tease and poke fun at you affectionately because that alongside touch was love language.

"Don't you dare get sick again... shorty."

"Alright that's it, no more sex for you for a week after this."

"What?! No I was kidding pleaseee!"

Law

Beep beep beep! The thermometer beeped to signal that it was ready to display your temperature.

"Hm. Thirty-eight point five. You're running a slight fever." Law stated bluntly as he examined the thermometer carefully before he set it aside and got up, he walked over to his medicine cabinet and dug through it for a few moments before he examined a packet and took it.

He closed the cabinet before he made his way over to you, handing you the packet of antibiotics with his endearingly cold hands.

"Take two twice every morning and night, it should help to resolve it as well as soothe the irritation somewhat." He spoke with a stern tone, despite the fact that it was incredibly obvious that he was a tad bit worried about your sickness developing into something harder to manage and cure, but he shoved those thoughts away and focused on being the confident doctor that you needed right now and not some sappy worried man.

"Do I take them with water or...?" You teased as you gave him a suggestive smirk, earning a heavy sigh in response.

"... Yes water you horny brat."

Thank you for reading! I know this isn't much for my first post and I do feel very lazy and like this isn't good enough, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#one piece #zoro #zoro roronoa #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #ace #ace d. portgas #law #law d. trafalgar #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. law #one piece x reader #female reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #law x reader

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sunnyferr · 2 days

Text

Cum! headcanon OP mens

Advertencias: smut!

Personajes: Crocodile , kid , Killer , Law

English/Español

DIVISORES

English

This guy is literally a semen truck, so get ready to be bathed in this white fluid. Due to his tobacco obsession, his semen is a bit bitter, but it's pretty thick and very white.

He's got big balls loaded with semen, and when he cums, you can see them contract releasing all their load (don't worry, they'll refill in less than 5 minutes).

He likes to cum on your face, then blame you for being a careless slut. He also enjoys cumming inside you and telling you that you're his favorite cum dump. <3

Español

Este hombre es literalmente un camion de semen, asi que preparate para salir bañada de este liquido blanco.

a causa de su obsesión al tabaco, su semen es algo amargó, pero es bastante espeso y muy blanco

tiene unas bolas grandes y cargadas de semen, y cuando se corre, se puede ver como se contraen soltando toda su carga (no te preocupes, en menos de 5 minuto se llenan otra vez)

le gusta correrse en tu cara, y luego echarte la culpa por ser una puta descuidada. Tambien le gusta correrse en tu coño, y decirte que eres su cum dump favorito <3

English

Get ready to have semen everywhere, because he won't stop cumming until he leaves you soaked in it.

His cum is a bit bitter, but it actually has a pretty pleasant (almost addictive) taste, it's clear and very oily.

He's got big and heavy balls, a bit saggy but nice and round, when he cums, it shoots pretty hard, if you're doing missionary, he'll pull out his cock to try and shoot on your chest.

His favorite place to cum is on your chest, he loves squeezing and fondling them, definitely loves your chest and seeing it covered in his own cum, makes him get hard again like nothing happened.

Español

Prepárate para tener semen por todas partes, porque no dejará de eyacular hasta dejarte empapada en él.

Su semen es un poco amargo, pero en realidad tiene un sabor bastante agradable (casi adictivo), es claro y muy oleoso.

Tiene unos testículos grandes y pesados, un poco caídos pero bonitos y redondos, cuando eyacula, sale con bastante fuerza, si estás en posición misionero, sacará su pene para intentar eyacular en tu pecho.

Su lugar favorito para correrse es en tus tetas, le encanta apretarlos y acariciarlos, definitivamente adora tu pecho y verlo cubierto de su propio semen, hace que se le ponga de nuevo erecto como si nada hubiera pasado.

English

I don't see him as the type who likes to shoot all his cum on you… but he will definitely make you swallow it.

His semen is a bit salty, but quite thick and sticky. I would even bet it has the consistency of Fettuccine Alfredo sauce.

Killer has medium-sized testicles, somewhat heavy, and with slightly uneven blonde hair. He won't tell you, but he loves it when you massage his balls while giving him a good blowjob.

He loves to see you swallow all his cum, watching you choke on it with glassy eyes. It makes him grab your hair and desperately give you another load.

Español

No lo veo un tipo que le guste tirarte todo su semen encima pero sin duda te hara tragártelo

Su semen es un poco salado, pero bastante espeso y pegajoso, incluso apostaria que tiene consistencia a la salsa Fettuccine Alfredo

killer tiene testículo de tamaño medio, algo pesados, y con un cabello rubio un poco disparejo, el no te lo dira, pero ama que le amases las bolas mientras le das una buena mamada

adora verte tragar todo su semen, ver que te ahogas con el con los ojos cristalinos, hace que te tome del cabello y se desespere para darte otra carga.

English

I see Law as the type of person who always uses a condom, but secretly wants to fill you with his cum, he's just not sure how to tell you yet.

Law's cum is bitter, probably because he drinks a lot of coffee, it's somewhat transparent and very thick.

He has somewhat small balls, but still manages to produce a good amount of cum, and he cums really hard, almost like a shot.

Like I said, he would love to fill you up with his load, so let him cum inside you, no doubt seeing you overflowing will make him ready for another round in no time.

Español

Veo a law como la clase de persona que usa condon TODO EL TIEMPO, pero secretamente quiere dejarte lleno con su cum, solamente que todavía no esta seguro de decírtelo

el semen de law es amargo, ya que consume grandes cantidades de café, es algo transparentoso y muy viscoso.

tiene unos testículo algo pequeños, pero de todas formas su carga suele ser bastante, y se corre muy fuerte, como si de un disparo se tratara

como dije, el amaría darte llena de su carga, asi que deja que se corra adentro, sin duda verte rebalsado hasta el bordé , lo hará volver al ruedo en poco minutos

PIDE TU COMICION SIN MIEDO

ASK FOR YOUR COMMISSION WITHOUT FEAR

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #law smut #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #trafalgar law #one piece imagines #massacre soldier killer #kid x reader #law x reader #luffy x reader #trafalgar d law x reader

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sciderman · 3 days

Note

Sorry if someone else already asked this but out of the Deadpools in any animated adaption which one is your favorite?

fortnite

okay kidding, i've never played fortnite but i love watching him do the dances. i'll rate all of the animated deadpools i guess. all the animated deadpools that i know of.

hulk vs wolverine

5/10 i think this might be the first animated deadpool i'd ever seen. and he's okay. i don't like nolan north's voice, really. i know a lot of people love him. i think his voice is pretty plain jane and his delivery is nothing special. mind you this wade doesn't have a lot of funny things to say anyway. this whole film is so very mid and so forgettable. marvel animation generally is really mid and forgettable. also he's such a scrawny little twink. i like my wades beefier. 5/10 for being one of the most ordinary, inoffensive, mid portrayals of deadpool ever.

deadpool (the game)

3/10 yeah i don't know, i hate this guy. nolan north yet again but his voice is slightly less plain jane and more rocket raccoon here. not into it. this game sprouted all the worst interpretations of deadpool ever and for that it must pay dearly. three stars because at least his tits are massive. but i hate his stupid pinhead.

ultimate spider-man deadpool

8/10 yeah he's the best one the west has to offer. sorry. he is. his jokes are funny. he is completely insane. he upstaged spider-man in every way a deadpool should. he's a scene-stealer. he has the presence. he has the hips. he has the thighs. he has my heart. one of my first ever exposures to deadpool and the start of a downward spiral for me. he loses two stars because DEAR GOD his voice is UNBEARABLE but. the episode is a masterpiece if you hit the mute button. i wanted to write a fic about him to flesh out his lore because honestly i'm really interested in this specific presumably teenaged wade wilson who was digested by the shield system and came out of it a mercenary. wade i was a teenage mercenary wilson. i want to know everything about him. i'm obsessed with him.

marvel disk wars

10/10 he is SO cute and i think i'd die for him. he lends himself to anime so so well, and the japanese just know how to do deadpool. he's a spider-man fanboy and every bit the attention whore he's meant to be. he knows how to give his chimichangettes what they want. the crotch shots. the unrelenting barrage on the 4th wall. but he also has a good heart at the end of the day. he's everything to me.

marvel's future avengers

10/10 obligatory, for being basically just a continuation of the prior deadpool but in a new series. he is very wife. the art is better but the animation isn't. but he's so. so cute. look at him. look at his gwumpy little faaaace look at HIIIIIM...

the japanese do just know how to do deadpool. his sole motivation in all of these is literally just to hog screentime. that's literally all he's there for. he's just a spotlight hog. all he wants is attention, and for them to make cute anime figures of him. he's the most valid deadpool ever. i think.

#sci speaks #wade wilson #deadpool

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liliewrites · 2 days

Note

Hi, I love the way you write. You express the characters very well, I can really hear Arlecchino's voice in your sentences.

You can do one with Arlecchino x femreader? Where Arlcchino and reader are married and take care of the children together (would be great seeing reader being maternal with Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet) After reader arrived in their lives, parties and family moments were common. One day at a gymkhana held with all the children, a traitorous Fatui was ordered by an Arlecchino's enemy to kill Arlecchino while she was distracted, but Reader noticed and got in front of her, taking the hit. Reader almost dies and Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet want revenge.

(Sorry for bad english)

HELLOOO ANONN:)) lmaoo sorry i was brainrotting a lot about this ask and i didn't know how to write it and end it because it's such a good idea and has a lot of potential.. anyw here u go and eat uppp!!:) also forgive me if i understood the word "gymkhana" wrong.. i just searched up the definition on google since i am not familiar with the word hihi..

-warning/s ; a bit of violence at a certain part:) besides that, none!:)

(men dni utc please!)

it was a fun, festive day for the children at the house of the hearth.

arlecchino and you had decided to host a fun little event for the kids, as both of you agreed that it'd be beneficial to the children not just for improving their skills, but for their enjoyment as well.

as of the moment, you and arlecchino were sitting on the side, lyney and freminet were currently tasked with helping and assisting the younger children, while lynette had mostly insisted on staying with you and arlecchino while helping out with organizing the event. you and your wife didn't mind much as you knew she was more introverted and a couple more helping hands would help a lot.

"mother, i believe that we should start the flag race soon.. shall we get the horses and the players ready?" lynette asked, looking down at the clipboard in her hands. you couldn't help but smile, lynette has grown into such a fine, young dependable lady. you pat lynette's head, giving her ears a little rub as praise. "yes, my dear. i would appreciate it too if you assisted them with getting on as well, see to it that none of them get injured." you told her, and she nods at you, her tail slightly wagging as she walks away. you couldn't help but chuckle, knowing that your praise didn't go unnoticed by your daughter.

"mother! mother! look, look!"

"don't i look cool, mother?"

"mother! this is so fun!"

left and right, children were all calling for your attention, and your heart was bursting in joy as you got up from your chair to approach them. you could see the smiles on their little faces and you knew they were enjoying themselves. one child ran up to you, holding freminet's hand and a drawing in another. she brought it up and showed you, smiling widely. "mother, ah- look! big brother fremi drew me an octopus!" she boasted, making freminet look to the side shyly. you couldn't help but feel proud of freminet, whom was usually alone and reserved, was now trying his best to get along and help out with the younger children. "my, what a lovely drawing, hm? mother is very glad that both of you are having fun." you smile, the turning your head to look at lyney as they both walked away. he was currently busy entertaining the audience (who were also kids) with his little magic tricks as they waited for the flag race. little eyes looked at their older brother with admiration, watching him unfold each trick with excitement.

and of course, as all this happened in the background, your wife was currently sitting from where you had currently sat with her on the side. arms crossed as she leaned on her chair, eyes watching over you and the children intently, yet the intimidating look had gone away from her face. instead, a soft look could be seen from her eyes, and she was sitting in a rather relaxed manner as she smiled at the sight of you with the children. her heart swelled joyously, seeing you interact lovingly with them, your laughter along with theirs ringing pleasantly in her ears as she made sure to capture each pretty smile you had on your face.

funny, as her comrades and enemies alike told her that "your wife is your weakness, knave. you've gone soft." if it were the old her, the old her that were full of hatred, of revenge-- devoid of the compassion and acceptance that you've taught her, it would've been an insult but right now? it was a fact, she knows it herself. you were her weakness, but you were not her drawback nor her flaw, but the weakness to the lost, angry soul that she was without you. you were the guiding hand that gave her a reason to continue watching over the house of the hearth, a proper one, unlike a certain motherly figure she came to know.

amidst the festivities, lyney had told everyone to calm down as the flag race was about to start. a big smile on your face as you stood there, instead of going back to sit with arlecchino, as the kids wanted to be with you.

everyone had got into position, the kids were safely mounted on the horses. the audience was cheering, and lyney was holding party popper to use as a signal cue. all of you were filled with thrill and excitement, as lyney counted off to start the race.

"alright, on your marks, hold tight!"

"get ready, set, and-"

before he could even pull on the string and say go, another loud bang was heard- and it was not from the party popper that lyney was holding.

much to everyone's horror, you were clutching your sides. you felt like you were slowly falling the floor, eyesight getting hazy, you were losing your senses quickly- everything was becoming blurry.

the whole event was silent before high pitched, loud screams calling your name could be heard as they ran towards you. the older trained kids, however, were sure to hold them back to give you space.

arlecchino, the moment she saw you get shot, wasted no time in rushing towards you to catch you. ".. d-darling, darling. are you okay? i got you, beloved.. i.." her eyes widened in shock, but her face froze in horror as she held you. warm, thick and sticky liquid pouring onto her and her clothes, but she didn't care.

"d.. darling, you-"

she was blinded with rage. all she saw was red and black, you just got shot, the perpetrator shouldn't have gone far. "children, find who did this. now!"

the older kids had gone and scattered, lyney and freminet leading them as lynette ushered the youngers ones to evacuate. as they dispersed, arlecchino held your body with gentleness and care, you weakly held onto her. ".. b-beloved, don't.. don't get the kids into this.." you pleaded, but arlecchino shook her head. you were in a critical situation, and yet, you still thought of the kids?

"my love, they are trained for this. have faith in our children, now, hold on. i will take you inside."

arlecchino gently lifted you up, holding you closely to her chest as she possibly can without hurting you. "don't pass out on me, beloved." she gently coaxed you as she brought you inside, trying to keep you awake.

as she finally got you in the clinic, the kids whom were trained in medical aid had prepared to take care of you while they waited for a real doctor to come. she gently laid you down on the bed, sitting next to you and she held your hand. every time the children made contact with your wound, you couldn't help but groan and moan- this was all being done with anesthesia after all. the sight of you crying in pain made arlecchino's chest tight with anger and fear. it was the first time the children saw their father become eerily quiet with such an expression on her face.

"father! we've caught the culprit!"

lyney came running in the clinic, panting. arlecchino leaned in to kiss your forehead, you were dangling on the edge of consciousness and it made her feel bad to leave you, but she had to- lest her wrath consume her whole and that would not be good for all of you. "beloved, the children will take care of you while we wait for a doctor. i'll be back soon, i promise." she whispered, before joining with lyney. "lyney, is the man tied?" she asked, and lyney nodded. "yes father, shall we turn him in to the-"

"no, never mind that. i will take care of him on my own."

she dismissed lyney with her hand, making the boy silently nod at her father's command to not hand the criminal over to the authorities. however, he couldn't shrug off the creepy feeling coming from his father. arlecchino had a blank expression on her face, he couldn't decipher her feelings at all. he paid no mind to this, not wanting to be the outlet of whatever his father was feeling.

as soon as they walked into the room where the culprit was held captive, the room was filled with a chilling atmosphere. all of the kids within the room could feel it. the perpetrator however, his face was full with fear as he looked at the harbinger. he started talking, but his words were muffled as his mouth was tied and covered.

"children, i am proud of you all for catching this man. we've given your mother justice, but for now. you are all dismissed. tell lynette to come over."

at your words, the children silently obey and leave the room. now it was just the man and arlecchino. for the whole time, arlecchino had held herself back from showing any kind of murderous intent, as she knew you wouldn't appreciate having it shown to the kids.

but now? the look on her face was indescribable, her hand was trembling in pure wrath. she leaned down, grabbing the man by his collar and throwing him against the wall. "i will ask you questions, and for every wrong answer, i will cut off one finger. think wisely." she threatened the man, grabbing a chair and pulling it in front of him. "however, seeing as you've decided to hurt my wife in the first place, i can see that you lack a brain."

the man was silenced, and she carefully studied his features. he was a fatui, much to her annoyance. "a traitor, i see. now tell me, who was it that ordered you to do this?" he asked, tugging on the cloth on his mouth.

"p-please, my lord- it wasn't my intention to-"

the man was cut off by his own agonizing scream of pain, with arlecchino stepping on his leg, piercing his flesh with the tip of his heels. "let this serve as a warning, you buffoon. if you do not give me an answer, i will cut your finger off next."

"i-it was one of the rich men you offended last time, my lord! s-sir van duyn!"

arlecchino clicked her tongue, tsk, it was one of those greedy capitalists again. how childish they are, just because of a few true but harsh words, and they act pathetically like this? sending in someone to hurt the knave's wife as they spend a fun day for the children?

arlecchino walked out the door and lynette was already there. "clean up the mess, do not let anyone else know of this." she ordered and lynette silently nodded.

oh, now they've done it. with a snap of arlecchino's fingers, the man's curdling screams had echoed within the room, his flesh slowly being consumed with her flames and soon, the one behind all this would suffer a much more painful death.

it was already nightfall when you had woken with you in full grasp of your senses. you looked around you, the children sleeping, and you immediately felt bad. they must've been so tired to fall asleep this early.

"beloved, are you awake?"

you were startled, but you looked towards the door. your wife, she was there. there was blood on her. you immediately sat up, but she immediately brought a finger to her lips, a silent cue to be careful not to wake the kids up. she walked towards you and sat by your side.

"oh celestia, my beloved.."

you gasped, hand touching her cheek. blood was splattered against her pale skin, but you were able to deduce that it wasn't hers, seeing as there were no visible wounds on her body. arlecchino however, had leaned into your palm, her hand on top of yours as she closed her eyes. "careful, my love. i do not wish to dirty your hands.." she reminded you, but the blood was dry. your chest was spilling with worry and fear. "what happened, arlecchino? are you okay? are the kids okay? i-" she took your hand off her cheek, kissing your knuckle.

"i'm glad that you are back to your senses, beloved, but yes i am fine. the kids on the other hand, i told you to have faith in them remember? they are fine and unharmed." she assures you as she crawls into bed with you, gently pushing you down and collapsing onto your chest as she wraps her arms around you. "now please, i wish to hold what i've almost lost in my arms." she wishes with a pleading tone, so you decided not to press on further. knowing that it's been hard for arlecchino to see you like this, you sigh, moving your hand to run through her hair again. she closes her eyes, now was she only truly able to calm down, feeling your warmth invading her senses. "if it means being able to keep holding you like this.. i'll do anything- anything, my love, just to protect the warmth that you give.."

a little bonus hihi ;

you sighed, deciding to let this go for now. however, at bedtime, you refused to let arlecchino sleep next to you (for awhile) as you were upset that she had made the kids do something as dangerous as running after the culprit.. but the next morning, arlecchino smiled, seeing as you were sleeping soundly on her chest.

currently, you were having morning coffee with arlecchino while the kids were still asleep. you were skimming through the newspaper, and you couldn't help but gasp in shocking as you read a certain news. "oh, darling? do you remember sir cecil van duyn?" you asked. arlecchino hummed, placing her cup down. "yes, one of our investors? what is it, dear?" she asked, looking at you curiously. "he was found dead! i may have not seen him often, but what a shame.." you sighed, oblivious to the fact that it was your wife's doing. arlecchino looked away, bringing the cup to her lips again. "yes, indeed darling, what a shame.."

she would not tell you this but for you, if it meant keeping you well and alive-- yes, she'd kill for you any day. she could paint her whole arm with the blood of those that dare to even lay a finger on you and she'd wear it proudly, to instill the image of it in their minds, so that her enemies know that it could be their blood next splattering on her if they decide to do the same dumb mistake the others already have.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino genshin impact #lilac writes💜#lilac asks💜#jaksdkjjwahs

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sports-on-sundays · 1 day

Text

lucky strike / CL16

Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.

Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy

Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!

Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.

one in a million ; my lucky strike

Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.

You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.

You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.

You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.

Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.

You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.

But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.

Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."

"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.

You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."

"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"

"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.

You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"

Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.

Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.

You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.

Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"

"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?

Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.

Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.

You don't plan to even give him the light of day.

"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.

You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.

The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.

But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.

Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.

You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.

You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"

You chuckle. "Possibly."

"You're going to lose all your-"

"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.

And honest, it is true that you're stupid.

But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.

"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."

"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."

"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.

You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.

But you weren't drunk with him.

Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.

"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."

You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"

"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.

You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.

And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.

On sixteen.

And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"

You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.

But when you turn, there's that guy again.

"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.

"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.

"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.

"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."

You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"

"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."

You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.

So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."

He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"

Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?

But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."

You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.

And then, suddenly, it hits you.

Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'

"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"

He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"

"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.

"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"

"You sound awfully prideful."

Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."

You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."

"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"

"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"

He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."

You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."

"I think you're just playing hard to get."

"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.

"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.

You don't know what it is.

But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.

It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.

When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"

He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?

Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.

Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"

You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"

"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"

You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."

"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"

You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.

He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"

His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."

You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."

His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"

You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."

"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"

You roll your eyes, and tell him.

He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."

You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.

"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.

He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.

"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)

(You also were sure to look up his salary.)

(Ridiculous.)

(But also intriguing.)

Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'

Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.

But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.

You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.

Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."

You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."

Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"

He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."

He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"

"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.

He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.

He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.

He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"

You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."

One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."

"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."

"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"

"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"

He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.

Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"

"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."

"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"

At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.

"What?!" you demand indignantly.

"You really are clueless!"

"I-"

"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."

You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."

"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."

So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.

As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"

"How'd you know?"

You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.

"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!

You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!

"You're Logan Sargeant?"

He nods. "I am. And you are...?"

"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."

"Ah... so you know him?"

"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."

His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-

Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"

You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."

You have no idea what to think of him.

"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.

"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.

"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.

As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"

"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-

Way too important.

You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.

He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."

You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"

"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"

"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."

"Still playing hard to get?"

"Not playing. I just am hard to get."

"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.

The French accent is pretty sexy.

Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"

Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.

He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"

But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.

But!

As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."

"What happened?" you exhale.

"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."

You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"

"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"

You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."

Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.

Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.

Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.

But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.

Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.

But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.

It just felt like-

Somehow fate is involved.

Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.

And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.

To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.

Like he really cared.

If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.

Loved you.

But, no. Of course not. That can't be.

Can it?

Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.

You had amazing luck, once again.

On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."

He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."

You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."

He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."

I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."

He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"

You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."

"Better than Vegas?"

"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."

He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"

"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."

"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."

There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.

Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."

He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.

Maybe it's not fate.

But it is most certainly luck.

And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.

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i-yap · 1 day

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Can I get your thoughts on a gn reader who’s dating Grayson and is like a parent figure or older sibling to Damien, so they have a soft spot for him ( so does Damien ) ?

Dick grayson x gn!y/n x platonic!Damian

this is my first time writing a gn reader so like I'm sorry if I write something stupid or offensive, just comment it and ill fix it.

if you are dating dick then damian will stalk you extensively at first. Dick is his favorite sibling ( in most comics) and if dick is serious about you, stalking is just how the batfam shows love.

He will be rude , he will be mean and sarcastic but dick warned you and you understand where dami's coming from. So you kindly and patiently deal with him and dick obviously doesn't let Dami cross the line when it comes to you.

One night dick had to rush out for a really scary mission and told you to stay at the manor because its the safest place to be.

Damian was the only other person that was left behind since the mission required everyone else on the team and bruce did not think damian was ready for such a high risk mission just yet.

so damian was really frustrated and also worried for the rest of the family. you walk past Dami's room to see him staring off in the distance while fidgeting or biting his nails. You ask alfred for a chess set ( or any other board/card game) and bring it to dami's room. While playing , he opens up about his frustrations and you patiently listen . Not a lot of people in his family are as warm and caring as you are ( maybe dick but even he is really busy)

After that night the roles are reversed. Now damian thinks dick is undeserving of you and his snarky comments are directed to him. You just find it funny while dick is left confused. "I thought he liked me more man, why the sudden switch?" " he got enlightened dickie boy muhahah" " you are mind controlling him arent you"

One-on-one time in the manor- haha dick wishes. So he tries only calling you when dami is at school or training or patrol. ofc you and dami catch on soon which means you and dami chasing him with katanas.

talking about katanas, dami loves showing you his art and his pets and if you share an interest in either of them he gets even more excited.

you and dick become dami's honorary parents. might as well adopt him since bruce and talia are obviously not doing a very good job ( in most comics) .

whenever dami is mad at bruce or simply upset or bored he comes to you and dick's apartment. You and dick are the fun warm loving couple that spend the night playing board games and watching stupid movies . you introduce him to all the major pop culture shows and movies and dick teaches him how to just dance randomly. your apartment is so different from the gloomy , filled with blood stains, fights and training manor. its filled with music and love and warm lights cooking together in funny pjs and dancing badly to pop songs.

it is watching you and dick that dami realizes what love is supposed to look like. and what a normal household looks like( sort of normal) and it affects the way he grows up. I wont be surprised if he comes to you for parents teacher meeting days or to sign his field trips or for advice on normal things

and the canon where dami is being bullied in school, while you go full on protective mode ,dick tries teaching him how to be better in social situations.

overall dami is just counting down days dick marries you and you'all unofficially adopt him.

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artinvain · 3 days

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vampire!sevika x witch!reader who runs into you at the library when she’s returning books. (no smut … yet!??!) men and minors dni

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:

Vampire!sevika who smells you, sickly sweet smell of a bakery, cigarettes and coffee. whose mouth starts to taste metallic. standing there and scenting the air, her eyes scrunched shut so no one sees the whites have turned crimson and her pupils are blown and black.

who tries to smile at you but feels her fangs extending a pain of hunger growing in her so she has to feed before she even comes near you.

vampire!Sevika who ignores all your advances with a smile and flippancy because she’s afraid she’ll hurt you if she gets too close.

vampire!Sevika whose hunting and spots you on a picnic, and has to claim she was hiking because she was caught staring.

vampire!Sevika who has to join you — seeing you alone in the woods too worrisome for her to leave you.

vampire!Sevika who then warms up to the idea of being around tou, not because she was dangerous but because she could protect you from things much worse than her

vampire!Sevika who starts leaving flowers at your work.

vampire!Sevika who is so used to providing she nearly cries when you send her your favourite book you “think you’ll really enjoy. It seems to match your old soul” with a plate of baked cookies on top.

vampire!Sevika who has her team watch out for you (as in stalk you 24 hours and report your movements back to her)

she thinks it’s the way you get to know someone — watch you , learn what you like so that she can anticipate your needs and be a good partner.

vampire!Sevika who thinks she’s ready to have dinner at your place when you offer.

and is stunned to see the sigils and candles, books and herbs inside, crystals lining the walls and refracting light into your living room.

When you stand silently at the door until she asks to be invited in, she’s immediately suspicious.

vampire!Sevika who’s been around long enough to realise you have a cloaking spell rune above your fireplace and knows she fucked.

because she doesn’t know anything about you — all her intel was messed with by your spell.

vampire!sevika who is now an entirely new level of nervous because not only are you intelligent and interesting and funny — you’re also more gorgeous than any face she’s seen in decades. eyes so unwarded and honest, skin soft and dewy. and your hands on hers — god it’s so soft—

and then she realises you’re asking about her daylight ring, you’re very fascinated you know about the type of rock that was used, it’s more popular century, the tiny runes inscribed de dismissed as aging.

vampire!Sevika who doesn’t stay for dinner when she smells your tea, the scent like burning razors in her nostrils. Vervain. A plant near deadly to vampires.

vampire!Sevika who excuses herself saying she has a cold and then receives a care package for her, which makes her realise the cookies you baked didn’t have any vervain in them. So she tries the food and it’s fine. more than fine it’s incredible. It makes her so hungry she has to feed.

vampire!sevika who only feeds on what she declared “scum of the earth,” she didn’t do it often at the risk of being caught but some nights, (like where she sees two men pulling a knife on a woman walking home from work — well with a knife it’s easy to make the deaths look … natural) she’s lucky.

vampire!Sevika who invites you over to her loft, it’s actually more dated than you’d expect. gold-yellow and red lilac and columbine flower wallpaper in the living room’s feature wall. With more modern pops in the furniture and essentials.

“A lot of your stuff is… antique,” you say smiling politely, a furrow in your brow. and Sevika laughs at the way you sit very very carefully on an old chesterfield sofa.

“I’ve reinforced them,” Sevika explains “they are old but, I can’t seem to let them go,”

“Family heirloom?” You guess, a lot of the stuff in here was too fancy to be sold at regular antiques in your area, which meant Sevika was rich, according to her furniture you guessed old money rich.

“that’s insane to have a family tree you can trace so far back you could have your own heirloom”

it was her brothers. they sat on it every night together in his first and only home, and talked in depth about nothing at all.

“My family is close, I am grateful,” Sevika says

the look in your eye. a twinkle of playful curiosity,

“and the ring is an heirloom also?” You ask, standing up to take another look around.

“this stuff if very english — your accent —“

”we moved when I was very little,” she interrupted quickly, that wasn’t entirely false. “I’ve lived here all my life,” that was lie.

you smile at her and quirk your head. she was so… guarded.

“what about your family?” Sevika asks, stepping toward you and guiding you with her hand on your lower back to the sofa. she opens a bottle of wine and pours it for you when she hears you say “salem” and nearly spills. you pretend not to notice and take the glass, thanking her.

“yeah, we fled during the salem trials, there was a much bigger pool of people then, than what’s documented,” you say and Sevika turns to you

”witches then,” Sevika says and lets a giggle slip when you say “of course, have you seen the way I dress?” so wooed by your boldness because yes, she has noticed the way you dress and she thinks you’re some kind of deity, the way your dresses and skirts fall over your thighs, and the way your jean overalls highlights your arms. she’s always mesmerised.

“you are a little whimsical, you sent me the metamorphosis by Franz kafka!” She rolls are eyes at the memory, she was kind of offended when she got it because really? but then when she read it with your note at the end she knew you were referencing yourself, explaining the way your mind works without really having to tell her. So Sevika is gentle with her words around you, makes sure your needs get catered to and makes sure that you always feel secure and loved. 🏷️ @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @sevsbaby @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul

#sevika vampire fic #vampire!sevika #lesbian #nsft lesbian #sevika arcane smut #sevika arcane

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eli0004 · 2 days

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Possible request only if you get time slash want to <3, can be headcanons but I always like to ask.

Levi’s reaction to having feelings for reader, (possibly them being established friends or at least comrades) but Levi noticing reader already has someone pursuing them too? How do you think Levi would react if someone else was pursuing reader, would it encourage him to voice his emotions?

Lets say in this instance the “competition” isn’t someone Levi views as nothing, could possibly be someone deemed as “good looking” and Levi feels off when the person gives reader attention.

This is such a good idea Anon, i love the way you think!

Pairing: Levi x GN! Reader

Synopsis: How Levi behaves when he has competition 😈

Warnings: jealousy, an arrogant man lmfao

I had to do a lot of thinking about this, for one reason. Levi is very selfless, and i do believe, canonically speaking, that he would simply back up and let you make that choice. Ultimately he would rather you be happy, regardless of how that affected him.

Especially since in a lot of ways, he would likely not see himself as fully capable of providing you with that level of happiness.

And, if that other person is someone who, like you said, Levi deems more attractive or more suitable for you, i think he would have a hard time convincing himself that he’s more worthy of your attention, let alone you.

And having met you and then found out someone else had their eye on you, he thinks: What could he possibly learn about you that the other guy doesn’t already know? Tactics he could use that haven’t already been tried? Conversations he could have with you, that hadn’t already been had?

But, alternatively, let’s say he had known you first, and had been the one to get to know you before the other person did. Levi would be a bit salty.

You’d sat with him, told him your stories, he knows about your favorite foods, how you like your tea, how you bite your lip when you concentrate. Even though his quiet listening and your mindless chattering, the two of you had become close.

To the naked eye, it appeared Levi had simply taken a liking to your company, but for him it was far more than that. Selfishly, he loved you.

When you introduced him to your new friend, it wasn’t long before you picked up on his jealousy.

The other guy, we’ll call him number two (because he could never be number one in comparison with Levi Ackerman), could flatter and flirt all he wanted, he doesn’t know you like Levi knows you.

He’d watch as number two flashed his handsome smiles, called you beautiful, bragged about his wealth and how he could care for you. He’d roll his eyes when he’d pass him by on the way to bring you a dozen roses

“Don’t you know anything about y/n? They prefer lilies. At least take them out of that tacky plastic first, how embarrassing.”

“That isn’t how y/n likes their tea, that’s far too much sugar. You’d know that if you ever bothered to stop talking about yourself.”

Levi isn’t the type to intentionally sabotage a budding relationship, but he is the type to sulk about it for as long as it takes for him to get over you. Ultimately, the only way he’d intervene is if he caught any indication that you might reciprocate his feelings.

I believe he’d struggle knowing what to say in person, so he’d write you a letter. He’d describe to you how he initially didn’t intend to tell you, how he wanted to back off and let you make the choice to be with whoever made you happy. But that if what he’d heard was true, he couldn’t stand by and let you slip through his fingers.

Levi would be anxious, absolutely miserable, stomach churning and mind racing while he waited for your response. But, that nervousness would quickly dissolve into delight as he spotted number two looking rather dejected, sending Levi a nasty glare and shoving his hands in his pockets as you let him down gently the next day.

There was a twinkle in your eyes as yours met his, a knowing smile spreading across your face. When you greeted him that morning, voice soft and flirtatious, he knew he’d won.

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi angst #levi headcanons #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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island-in-the-shadows · 3 days

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Truly, my sympathies to people watching IWTV and are getting tired/bored of different perspectives. I'm not bored or even remotely tired.

Interviews by their very nature are perspective based. The story has this specific framing. As did the first book. They added to it with Armand now being an active participant and Daniel being more seasoned at interviewing. I understand how Armand's very edited and hyperbolic take on events that Book Lestat describes in The Vampire Lestat rubs people the wrong way. I do think that one could argue the way Lestat writes his own autobiography is the objective truth (note Armand in his book does not contradict Lestat). However, sorry to say, there is never an objective truth. The truth is always subjective.

I was raised by a whole family of lawyers and if I learned anything is that you can spin things in any way, but an objective truth will never exist. Not in crime, not in person to person storytelling, not in fictional storytelling. Hell, viewers seeing the SAME show CANNOT come to a consensus. Why? Because we all put our thoughts, experiences, and feelings to it. That's all perspective.

We see Louis give Armand a kiss in bed. Some think aw domestic and cute. Some think Louis is deliberately withholding and rewarding Armand for good behaviour. Some saw the act they put on in E2 as some version of truth and domesticity and some think it's only an act. Some think Dreamstat is actual Lestat out there somewhere and some think it's Louis' conscience.

Yes, the narrative will confirm one thought or another on some things but not all of them. They're deliberately left up to interpretation. Something btw, Lestat urges the reader to do in TVL when he does not go into details about his time with Louis and Claudia. And part of that has to do with perspective.

We could have a straightforward narrative with no corrections and no perspectives. But would that be as interesting as seeing how minds that far exceed our own twist and bend and interpret events? Would it be as interesting as seeing a vampire who tells himself a story so that he can carry on living despite being miserable? Would it be as interesting as this vampire who tells himself a story get pushback on what he's saying by someone who notices errors and inconsistencies? Would it be an interview at all? Or would it be, as Daniel put it in the very first episode, "a fever dream told to an idiot."

If you want a straightforward non-challenging version of the story, the 1994 movie exists. It's not perfect and a lot of details are missing, but there's only one, unchallenged perspective to it. And even then...how many people didn't (want to) see the queerness in it?

TL;DR I get being frustrated or tired or bored by the way the show is trying to tell the story, but at least it's doing something a little different and not word for word.

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #it doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea #i just find it really interesting that a bunch of people want a more basic form of storytelling #i don't agree with every choice made but they're doing something different and i appreciate it #and i don't mean different as in revolutionary #i mean different for this specific source #and even then #marius tells his own story #pandora tells hers #armand tells his #daniel tells a very specific part of his life to lestat #as does jesse #maharet tells us the origins of akasha and that's written down as fucking mental hearsay because lestat wasn't there when she told the stor #like i get that yeah it's lestat's story etc but there's other stories too and who tells them is always additionally fascinating #because i say tell their story but a lot is narrated to someone else #please don't flame me this is just my opinion #i know im probably in the minority

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kaesaaurelia · 2 days

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soooo I just finished watching that star wars hotel video and oh my god the fire safety what the fuckkkk

BUT ALSO if you are some kind of weirdo who watched this (or the evermore video) and was like "man I wish that thing existed but was good," I... can't help you specifically with Star Wars (or generic high fantasy settings) but if you are an adult or a family with teens (who are okay with some mild references to sexuality in a coming-of-age context -- which honestly would go over the heads of most kids too young to deal with them?), don't have issues with darkness, flashing lights, or potential immune issues due to touching touchscreens, and enjoy a little light cosmic and/or implied body horror I highly highly suggest going to Omega Mart next time you are in Las Vegas. It is surreal and fun and while I definitely ran into some issues there with 1. going down the story path I didn't mean to go down and 2. LOSING MY EMPLOYEE ID CARD (to be clear I did not work there, in the fiction of the game all guests are Omega Mart employees), there were helpful (actual) employees there to jump in and help me without breaking immersion at all. They were great.

There are some pathways (physical pathways) that require an ability to climb stairs but there are ALWAYS multiple paths between two points so while you might not be able to crawl through the tunnel and then climb the rope from [spoiler place] to [other spoiler place] or do the slides, you can still physically get to the plot-important places and I think at most people who can't do stairs miss... some kind of pointless music machines? (Which I had fun with ngl but I fucked around with them for like 10 minutes more because I was in the area looking for my lost ID badge and asking if people had found it.) I haven't been to the other Meow Wolf installations but I would love to go given the chance.

And if you really want a themed hotel... well, you can't find an eldritch dimension-hopping supermarket-themed hotel, no, but if you stay on the strip there's going to be a lot of neon and trying to sell you things, and also optionally a theme, so like. That's not dissimilar.

Fire safety both at these Vegas hotels and at Omega Mart will be better than crawling into a small closet with 4 of your closest friends and hoping to not die, also. And a substantial amount of the story of Omega Mart is "wow corporate greed does ruin everything," so if you liked the video you probably will also like this.

[Edit: also to be clear I don't really think Omega Mart is small-child-friendly, but mostly because it's a lot of reading, and the bulk of it is either corporate memos or a teenage girl's diaries. A lot of the stuff I found most engaging was exploring the strained intergenerational family dynamic between the girl, her mom, and her grandfather, something that small children would find either boring or upsetting or both. It's not the sexuality that's the issue, it's some offscreen implied character death-but-not-really (that not-really doesn't make it better!) and just plain bad parenting, plus the broader theme of a greedy grocery chain turning ancient mystery and natural wonder into queasy reality-breaking horror.]

#kaesa op #omega mart #star wars hotel #jenny nicholson

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hellfirenacht · 2 days

Text

Wing Man 11

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

5.2k words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10)

Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift.

You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks.

The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose.

“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn.

“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”

“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.”

You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea.

“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”

“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said.

“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?”

“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”

“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”

“Hey-”

“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”

“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”

It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.

“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.

“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”

“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”

“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked.

“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!”

“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed.

“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said.

“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.”

“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked.

“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”

“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered.

“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.

“That too.” you said.

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic.

”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”

“So you trust him?”

“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv.

You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin.

It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her.

She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever.

To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him.

“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug.

“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her.

The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice.

“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.”

Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.

Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I did something stupid.” He started.

“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile.

“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”

“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.”

Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do.

“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”

“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.”

“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.”

“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”

There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up.

In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time.

For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”

Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him.

“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”

She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead.

“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork. I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”

Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition.

“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”

“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping.

“Left Turn Media.” Paige said.

During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night.

“Shit.” Eddie said.

“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”

“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”

Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”

“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”

“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”

“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them.

“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”

“Real?”

“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”

Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time.

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up.

“As serious as shooting a cop.”

“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up.

“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster.

“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.”

“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich.

“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.”

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her.

“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.”

“What was plan L?”

“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned.

“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.”

“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”

Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”

“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”

“And Corroded Coffin?”

“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”

Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before.

That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left.

One thing at a time.

“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said.

“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked.

Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before.

He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week.

“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”

You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore.

A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were.

“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”

“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon.

After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music.

For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him.

That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway.

Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US.

When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.

Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.

Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in.

“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.

“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say.

She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids.

Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said.

Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment.

“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head.

“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.”

Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted.

Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you-

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else.

Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation.

“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”

“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.”

Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band.

At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list.

What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind.

Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down.

He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”

“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.”

You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys.

“I’ll be right there.”

a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny.

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

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#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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