#and for kevin to come back to him and send him home?

[fiona-fififi]

I cannot even begin to articulate how beautiful and heartbreaking the Kevin moment was.

The idea that this man who Chimney loved as a brother, who he lost too soon, came back to him in his moment of need and pointed him home? The way Kevin is one of his ghosts, but only in the most loving way.

As tragic as it was, losing Kevin brought with it a realization of unconditional love in the Lees—because not only did they manage to love him through the hurt, but they needed him, too. He wasn't a reminder of their pain—he was the son they had left who they could have lost, too, but didn't. He was love and joy, even through all the hurt. They were a family. A little bit broken, but built on the kind of foundation Chimney had never had until them, at least not since he'd lost his mom.

For Kevin to be the one to point him home? To send him to the two people whose unconditional love had kept him alive, if only in their hearts? To the parents who'd raised them both and didn't deserve to lose another son? To the two people who had never let him down?

It's just a lot.

[juicegremlin]

Literally sobbing my eyes out because Jean wanted Neil to stay at The Nest so. Bad. Someone barrels into his life—the "what could have been" of Jean Moreau if his mother had saved him instead of sold him—and tells Jean that he doesn't deserve to be treated this way. Jean-Yves "Starving Dog" Moreau doesn't deserve to starve, doesn't deserve to spend his whole life chasing safety and approval. For the first time in a long time, Jean has someone to protect and be protected by—a partner who won't throw him under the bus the first chance he gets. Someone to hold his fucking hand.

And then Neil leaves. Neil leaves, and Jean shatters into even more pieces than before. His partner—the one and only bright spot in Evermore's relentless sea of bad—has gone back to the Foxes, a group of people that would never treat someone the way Jean has been treated. Jean has been abandoned, yet again, by the only person capable of being there for him. Kevin got out. Neil got out. They find homes and lives and families while Jean is forced to stay and let Riko beat him into the ground, day after day after day. What makes Jean so different? So unworthy? Why can't fate hand him the same cards?

He watches Neil flourish from behind black walls, watches Kevin grow and heal and thinks why not me? And he's glad they are safe, but Jean can't help it—he wants them back. Wants someone to bear witness to his pain, even if it means putting them in danger. And is that so awful to crave? A partner in punishment? Someone to promise him hope when all he can see is black?

Kengo dies, and what little bit of hope Jean had allowed himself to cling to dies with him.

I am going to die here, Jean realizes, bleeding out onto the dormitory floor. I am finally going to die here.

When he spots Renee, he thinks he has died. Who else would come for him but an angel without wings?

But no, this is real. Jean is alive, and this is real—after years of battering, it is finally his turn to be saved, and it's all because of the Neil Josten. Jean may have been left, but he was not abandoned. He was in the back of Neil's mind the entire time. Jean watches from behind the Foxes' safety net as Neil takes Riko's resolve and dismantles it with unforgiving hands, as Neil helps return Kevin to his former glory. Watches as Neil drags Riko's life to a screeching halt. Neil cuts a deal for Jean with the Moriyamas—gives him a place outside of Evermore for the first time since Marseille—and Jean can barely breathe under the weight of himself. It's real, but it doesn't feel like it.

And then Kevin—that beautiful, unattainable piece of bitch—sends Jean to the Trojans, repayment for helping Kevin escape all those months ago. Neil takes care of the last piece of Jean's painful past, repayment for Jean's life-saving support at Evermore. And perhaps there is no real way to settle the score between the three of them, but they're free. They're safe. They're alive, and they never could have done it without each other. Maybe that's enough for now.

[allfortheslay25]

Please never stop talking about Siren Neil and Mermaid Andrew, they truly keep me going 🙏🏻 I would love to hear more HC’s on them, especially about Andrew’s relationship with the other Monsters!

Here’s the Monsters and some backstory of how they came together (I was too lazy to finish Kevin, Robin, and Neil)

Andrew was abandoned by Tilda (along with Aaron) when they were born. Tilda came back for Aaron and Andrew survived by himself by pure luck. Tilda had abandoned him in prime predator territory and he could’ve been eaten by anything from sirens to sharks

Unfortunately, Andrew was found by random mermaids who raised him until they could find someone to trade him off to. Andrew was then being abused by the creeps who bought him until they lost him to some bandits. Andrew bounced from bad person to bad person until eventually a pod took over the territory he was last staying at. This was Cass’s pod

Cass adopted Andrew and for a while everything was fine. But Drake became a problem and Andrew decided to endure it since the pod was better than living with bandits and going hungry. Eventually, their pod came across the same one Tilda was apart of and the two pods decided to fuse in order to reunite two brothers.

When a pod fuses, they go about it slowly by trading first the young men (that way they don’t bring dangers of adult men or risk the women and children) Andrew was too hostile about it so the other pod refused to let him come over first and they wouldn’t give up Aaron in case the fusion of the pods failed

Andrew eventually convinced Luther to let him join their pod instead of sending Aaron (using ‘bonding’ with Tilda as an excuse) Andrew realized how abusive Tilda was and made a deal to protect Aaron. That’s when he orchestrated Tilda’s death (luring her into a hostile dolphin nest where they battered her to death)

Andrew then decided to start his own pod and only convinced Luther’s pod by having Nicky go along with them. So Nicky, Andrew, and Aaron looked for a territory far from their home.

It wasn’t far enough and Drake often followed after Andrew when he was alone. Andrew couldn’t risk Drake getting to Nicky or Aaron so he took them into Moriyama territory—or at the very least, a territory they had been eyeing

Riko was too disorganized to take over the area so Andrew took half from him. Only he had the balls to do such a thing and no one, not even Drake, could follow into his new territory in fear of being eaten or attacked by the Moriyamas

They lived in peace until Andrew met Kevin and then Neil. Kevin was supposed to scare them off but Andrew constantly humbled him and his act of mercy made Kevin decide on leaving them alone. Eventually Kevin was dragged back into their mess by Neil and Kevin hid within Andrew’s to hide from Riko after he went too far.

After all five of them had finally settled into a pod, Andrew met Robin where she struggled to get used to a pod dynamic with her family. It wasn’t Andrew’s business at the time until Neil met her too and became attached. Andrew then integrated her into his pod where she was more comfortable due to how small it was (she was overwhelmed in her previous pod)

[justagalwhowrites]

Stranger in a Bar - Part One

A DBF!Joel Fic

You meet a stranger in a bar, one who is fun and sexy and makes you wonder if the single life is all it's cracked up to be. But there's one big problem: you probably shouldn't be fucking your dad's best friend.

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: This is smut, OK? Just a lot of smut. Protected P in V sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Age gap of 20 years. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 6.8k

AO3 | Fic Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot and then it started getting out of hand. It's going to just be two parts for the moment, this is going to be a very little baby fic, OK? Small. Lil baby story. Also. there's a hefty age gap and it comes up because logistics but no power imbalance. Thanks for always putting up with my shit, y'all are the best ❤️

Bar None, Present day

One of your friends had just put Single Ladies on the jukebox when you saw him across the bar. Bar None, the place you’d picked for the night, had one of those stupid app-powered ones and the three girls you had kept in touch with from high school had been abusing it all night long. But the man across the bar was so distracting that you hardly noticed. His eyes were locked on you, so tight and hot that it would send a chill up your spine if it was from the wrong set of eyes. But they were his eyes. Dark and molten and set into a sculpted face with patchy scruff and shaggy curl streaked with gray. 

No, you thought, he couldn’t spark anything but desire. 

“We should do the dance!” Your friend Emily slurred, tugging your arm. “C’mon! Now that you’re a single lady again, you have to own it.” 

She flashed her empty ring finger as Beyonce sang, a cocky - if half drunk - look on her face as she did. 

You smiled at her. 

“He did put a ring on it,” you twisted the stem of your martini glass. “That’s why there was a problem when he put his dick in someone else. I think I’ll pass on the Beyonce. But thank you.” 

“Come on drunky,” your friend Dana looped her arm around Emily’s waist. “Let’s go dance.” 

“Woooo!” Emily threw her arms in the air and Dana gave you an exasperated but happy smile over her shoulder as she guided her to the dance floor. 

“Jesus, is it that late?” Parker looked at her Apple watch. You half smiled and took a small sip of your drink as she rifled through her clutch for her phone and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God, Kevin hasn’t been texting with a ton of stupid questions. Why did I think letting a baby get totally attached to me was a good idea? The fact that she only said mama for two weeks was great at first but now that she refuses to do bedtime without me, I’m having regrets…” 

“Do you need to go?” You asked, brows raised. 

She winced.

“Would you hate me if I left you with the party animals?” 

You laughed. 

“No,” you said. “Go home, see your husband and kid. I really do appreciate the warm welcome back, you have no idea.” 

“See?” She reached across the small table and gave your arm a squeeze. “I told you, just like old times.” 

“Did you go back home at 10:30 to make sure a baby was properly put to bed when we were 18?” You teased. “I forgot that part…” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Almost old times,” she said. “Besides, you love Bella.” 

“I do love Bella,” you said. “And I love you. Go home, I’m good.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Positive. Text me when you get there?” 

“Of course,” she slipped off the bar stool and came around to give you a hug and kiss your cheek. “I really am glad you’re back. Even if it’s because Reid was a dumbass.” 

You just smiled a little and watched her leave, Parker pausing to wave to Dana on her way out the door. 

“This seat open?” 

The man from across the bar stood beside you, nodding to the seat Parker had just vacated. You smiled a little and nodded once. 

“You have very convenient timing.” 

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.” 

“And how’s that going for you these days?” 

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled. 

“Well enough.” 

You looked at him, tracing the creases in his face with your eyes, the streaks of gray catching the low light of the bar. He was probably the oldest man there but damn, did he wear it well. 

“You in town for a visit?” He asked, turning his beer bottle in his fingers and nodding to your friends on the dance floor. “Seeing friends?” 

You cocked a little smile at him. 

“No, actually. Just moved back.” 

He raised his eyebrows, a look you couldn’t quite place passing over his warm features. His eyes drifted to your ring finger before he seemed to catch himself and look back at your face. You saved him the trouble, lifting your bare left hand and turning it so he could see. The indentation from your three carat engagement ring was still on your finger but your hand was empty. 

“I think we should talk, Joel.” 

Bar None, 10 years earlier 

The man across the bar had no damn business being that good looking. 

It was almost pissing you off how good looking he was. Tall, broad, with golden skin and thick, dark hair, he had the kind of face you wanted to explore intimately, in the way you could only do when someone was inside of you. The way men couldn’t control their expressions then was almost addicting. The way their eyes would roll back and their mouths would fall open, the way they stopped fucking around with pretense and just let themselves feel something - even if it was just your cunt - was beautiful and fascinating and almost elemental. It was like you could look into the very core of them for a moment, the way they always seemed to be able to look into you with just a glance. You wanted that with this man, whoever he was, this man who you caught glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Aww,” Parker pouted happily at her phone. “Kevin misses me!” 

“Misses you?” Emily snatched the phone from her grasp, gaping at the screen. “You’ve been gone like two hours!” 

“Will you just…” Parker snatched the phone back and looked at the text again. “And I think it’s sweet.” 

“You’re ditching us, aren’t you?” Emily sighed. 

“I think so,” Parker winced. “Is that OK?” 

You just smiled a little. 

“Go see the guy who’s got you all crazy,” you said. “But I’ll see you again before I leave town, yeah?” 

“Course!” She came and gave you a hug. “Good luck getting rid of me. Have fun at that thing tomorrow!” 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’ll try.” 

Emily rolled her eyes and judged Parker for a bit but it was less than an hour before she was leaving, too, with a man who’d asked her to dance and bought her a beer. 

“You sure you’re alright?” She asked as she went to leave. 

“Babes, I know how to be at a bar on my own. And my hotel is two doors down. I think I can figure it out.” 

She kissed your cheek. 

“Love you,” she said. “Try to have some fun!” 

You watched her go, thinking about just how long you wanted to be sitting by yourself at a bar versus in a Holiday Inn Express standard room when a voice appeared beside you. 

“This seat open?” 

The man from across the bar nodded to the seat Emily had just abandoned. You smiled a little and nodded once. 

“You have very convenient timing.” 

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.” 

“And how’s that going for you?” 

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled. 

“Well enough.”

You smiled and introduced yourself before holding out your hand. He took it. 

“Joel,” he said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” 

“Because I’ve never been here before,” you smiled. “I’m in from out of town, my hotel is a few doors down. This was convenient and hey, the Yelp reviews weren’t the worst.” 

“What brings you to the great city of Austin, Texas?” He asked, settling in on the seat beside you. He was older than you but you kind of liked men that way now that you were in your mid 20s and exhausted by every man you’d dated in college. You liked them a little older, more established, men who knew how to cook their own damn food and give you your own damn orgasm. “Business or pleasure?” 

“Neither,” you smiled a little, taking a sip of your drink. “Family event.” 

“That’s not pleasure?” 

You laughed once.

“Not the way my family does it.” 

“That why you’re in a hotel and not stayin’ with them?” He asked, brows raised. 

“Bingo,” you replied. “I get in, I get drunk, I get out.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Good system.” 

“Worked well enough for me over the years.” 

The two of you ended up talking about music and books and UT football until last call - far later than you’d intended to stay out. 

“Mind if I walk you back to your hotel?” Joel asked. “Not tryin’ to be a creep but… I’d sleep a lot better tonight knowin’ you got back safe. Promise it’s not a ploy.” 

“Damn, it’s not?” You asked, tucking your purse on your arm and heading for the door. “Because I was going to ask you to come up to my room if it was.” 

“Well shit,” he said, catching up with you. “Maybe it is a ploy then.” 

You found yourselves drawing out the walk back all the same, pace more of an amble than a brisk walk, but the hotel was so close that it really only added a few minutes to your walk all the same. 

“Well,” you smiled at the door to the lobby. “This is me.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded once, looking inside for a moment before looking back at you. “Look… you don’t owe me anything, alright? I’m not the kind of guy who wants to force something. I can just head on back to my truck, no hard feelings…” 

“Well maybe none for you,” you teased a little. “But I might have some. Unless you really don’t want to fuck me.” 

“Oh, I want to,” he said. “Trust me on that…” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Been at the top of my list since you first walked in that place, baby, lemme tell you.” 

“Well then,” you jerked your head toward the door. “Why don’t we cross it off the list?” 

You took his hand in the elevator, his palm so broad, his fingers thick and long and callused in yours. You pressed your back against the wall and pulled him onto you so his hips were on yours and his nose brushed your own. His eyes ranged over your face, hungry and soft and open. 

“You sure about this?” He asked, looking down at the rest of your body for a moment before going back to your face. “Sure you don’t have something better to do than some old man?” 

“I’m sure,” you smiled at him, draping your arms over his shoulders. “Besides, I like old men. How old are you, anyway?” 

“Forty-five,” he said. “How old are you?” 

You snorted. 

“I’m not sure I should say,” you said, holding him a little closer all the same. “Since you’re all hung up on age…” 

“Not hung up on it,” he rolled his eyes. “Just… don’t need to be some youthful mistake is all. Wait, Jesus, please tell me you’re at least out of college, tell me you’re not a teenager…” 

You laughed. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Not a teenager. And I’ve been out of college a few years, I’m 25.” 

“God,” he closed his eyes and shook his head once, like he was trying to shake the idea of you loose. “Still, that’s… you’re…” 

You pressed your lips ever so slightly against his, more a quick brush than anything else, giving him every opportunity to pull back. 

He didn’t take it. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to yours, his hands going to your waist and tugging you tightly to his body while he pushed you back against the wall. Your arms got tighter to him and you opened your mouth, his tongue licking into you almost immediately. Joel didn’t need an engraved invitation, all he needed was a sign that you wanted him and fuck, you wanted him. More and more, each passing second, you wanted him. There was heat in you that was starting to flare so molten and hot that you pulled at his clothes, forgetting that you weren’t alone, not really. 

The elevator dinged and he all but sprang back from you, both of you panting for breath. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking you up and down, pupils blown. 

“C’mon,” you took his hand. “I’m down the hall.” 

You pulled him along behind you and fumbled to get your room key out of your bag. Joel’s wide, thick hands slipped around your waist as you did, tugging your ass back against his growing bulge and fuck, but he was huge. Thick and long and you knew his zipper had to be fucking killing him, cock that big and hard restrained by mere fabric and a slip of metal. His lips found the hinge of your jaw, your neck, down to your shoulder and you groaned a little as you clumsily forced the keycard in the door, the little beep the mechanism gave one of the best damn sounds you’d heard all night. 

The two of you practically fell into your hotel room. You dropped your purse on the first table inside the door and started stepping out of your heels as Joel turned you around to face him, manipulating your body to put you right where he wanted you and the fire in you sparked higher, brighter as he manhandled you. Every touch he gave was loaded with need, the air thick and heavy with it as he pawed at your clothes and skin, licking into your mouth at every opportunity, taking your chin firmly in his heady grip to tug you open further for him, all but forcing you to give him everything. 

You were as rough with his clothes as he was with your body, pulling so hard and fast at the buttons of his shirt that two popped free, pinging off the glass of the mass produced art that hung on the wall. 

“Shit,” you panted, looking around the dark of your room for the buttons. 

“Don’t give a fuck,” Joel replied, breathless, clutching you close and tight before you could pull away. “Didn’t really like this shirt, anyway.” 

You shoved it down and off as he tugged your dress down your body, leaving it in a pile on the floor before turning you so the backs of your legs were against the bed. He deftly unhooked your bra with one hand then, ripping the straps down your arms but almost reverently lowering the cups, panting for breath as he exposed your breasts to his gaze. Joel tossed your bra to the side before taking the soft weight of your tits in his hands, cupping them, brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples as he looked down at you with a look of near awe on his face. You half expected him to shove you back down onto the bed after his race to get you undressed but instead, his arm went around your waist, his hand splaying wide over the smooth skin of your back and he pulled you tight against him, making you gasp. 

He moaned, deep and low, and dropped his head to your bared shoulder before trailing his nose over you to your neck, the wet heat of his breath on your skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn soft,” he groaned, almost pained, and pressed his lips to your throat, making your breath catch. You clung to the broad expanse of his back, fingertips pressing into him, trying to get at every inch of his skin that you could find. 

His mouth found yours and he gently, delicately, lowered you back onto the bed. He cradled your body against his own, keeping the firm line of him taut to you as he kissed you. Joel rested you on the mattress and you let your legs fall open so he could settle between your thighs, the heady weight of him pressing against your clit and making you moan. 

“You got a problem if I explore this pretty body of yours?” He asked, his lips still brushing yours when he spoke. “Because fuck, baby, seems like a sin to not touch every goddamn inch of you.” 

He rocked his thick, hard, still clothed cock against your core, as if to make his point, and took your responding moan as the yes it was. He trailed his lips slowly over your body, down your throat, your breast bone, your stomach, your navel. His nose brushed against you, his breath covering you in warm and needy pants. When he reached your underwear - the last thing still on your body - his fingers looped through the band before he paused, looking up at you over your stomach and between your breasts. 

“You still with me, pretty girl?” He asked, mouth so close to your skin that the wetness of his lower lip had caught on your stomach. “Still good with this?”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you were practically squirming. He was so close to precisely where you needed him it seemed like you might melt with the want of him. “Fuck, please…” 

“Fuck, you’re even prettier when you beg,” he said and started to pull your panties down over your hips. You lifted yourself up off the bed to help and it wasn’t long before you were naked below him. He knelt in front of you and took your knees in his hands, parting your thighs for him and groaning when he did. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed, so quiet you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it or if he’d meant to say it out loud at all. “Just… fuck.” 

He opened your legs enough to lay between them, settling with your thighs over his shoulders. His thumb traced a slow, tender path over your slit, brushing your clit and making you gasp when he did. 

“Swear you’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said before he pressed his lips to your leaking hole. He moaned as he did and you couldn’t help but thrust against him once. He pulled back from you just a little, his nose barely touching your clit as he did. “Needy little pussy, too, huh?” 

Your fingers knotted in the bedspread and Joel’s mouth found your clit, softly sucking the sensitive nub between his teeth to tease with his tongue. You fought the urge to rock your hips against his face, trying to remember that this man was practically a stranger, not a lover whose tastes you knew intimately. But that was hard to remember as he worked his way lower, his tongue slipping inside of you with a deep groan. 

Joel ate you like you were a delicacy he longed to savor. He started slow, tasting and teasing you open, before delving deep like he couldn’t resist it, his thick tongue exploring and finding the soft and tender places inside you. His thumbs spread you open wide to him, his nose against your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself, you rolled your hips against him. He moaned into you and you forced your hips down on the bed, trying to clear your head enough to be still. 

“Sorry,” you panted. “I didn’t mean to do that, you’re just… really fucking good at that.” 

He stopped and pulled back from you enough to look up your body again, a frown on his face, your slick glistening on his beard in the light from the parking lot outside. 

“You think I don’t want you fucking my face?” He asked. “Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than for you to take exactly what you need. Want you to make yourself come on my face, you understand?” 

You swallowed and nodded. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked, voice almost stern. 

“Make myself come on your face?” You more asked than answered. 

“Better sound more sure than that,” he said, fingers moving to your clit. You gasped and moaned at the contact. “Come on baby, what are you going to do? Say it. Own it.” 

“Come on your face,” you panted. “Fuck, Joel… I’m going to come on your face, I’m going to make myself come on your face, please…” 

“Good,” he said, going back to eating your pussy. 

It was like he’d been holding back before but had nothing stopping him now. His tongue pressed deep, his nose nestled in your slit to nudge your clit, his arms looped over the thickness of your thighs to keep you open for him while also pressing the softness of you to the sides of his head. Your orgasm built quickly, the heat in you sinking to your core, everything inside you there going taut and tense. You were just on the edge of it, whimpering below his tongue and his touch when one hand left the warmth of your thigh and moved to your slit, his finger sliding inside you alongside his tongue. He pressed into the soft, tender place inside you that seemed to elude other men, finding it with an almost practiced ease and moaning when he did, sending the sparks of your climax shooting through you. 

He groaned, needy, as he ate you through it, not letting up, not even for a second until your orgasm had subsided and your head was swimming. 

“Fuck you feel amazing,” he pulled himself from you, sucking the finger that was inside you clean before wiping your slick from his beard while his other hand traced over the smooth softness of your inner thigh. “Should’ve asked this sooner but… please tell me you’ve got a damn condom. I wasn’t exactly lookin’ for this tonight, not until I saw you, so I’m not exactly prepared.” 

“I do,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to remember where the hell you left your suitcase in the dark. You spotted it on the dresser, thankfully still mostly organized since you’d arrived that afternoon. You nodded to it. “Suitcase, top zipper pouch inside the lid.”

He got one, the crinkle of foil strangely loud in the silence of the room. 

“Here,” you sat up and reached for him as he came to stand between your legs at the edge of the bed. “Let me do it…” 

He gave you the packet and you opened it before palming the condom, holding it tight in one hand while slipping the other into the open zipper of his jeans and into his underwear to find his thick, heavy cock. 

You moaned as you wrapped your fingers around his length, hard as steel wrapped in silken skin, and you stroked him, just half way up his cock at first before going from root to tip. He was dripping there, his arousal making his head slick and wet. You brushed your thumb over his leaking tip, the smooth skin making your mouth water. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you leaned forward to lick him before taking just the very end of his cock between your lips. You suckled at him gently, lapping up his precome, Joel’s breaths getting heavier and faster as you did, before you took him into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked him, his hand going to the back of your head and holding you against him, your nose brushing against the base of his stomach. You took his head into your throat and moaned around him as you sucked him, making him hiss in pleasure, his grip on your skull tightening. 

“Fuck, woman,” he managed as you kept sucking him. “Gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that…” 

You pulled back from him slowly, his hold on you easing as you did, until he slipped from your mouth, still slick with your spit. 

“Should probably stop then,” you said, a little breathless. You took the condom - warm now from the heat of your hand - and put it over his head before rolling it over his thick shaft. You stroked him once, twice and leaned forward again, sucking his tip for a moment when it was in place and his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling as he groaned. 

“Jesus,” he panted. “Fuck, you gonna let me inside that soft little pussy of yours or make me come in your mouth?” 

You laughed once, needy and low, before pulling yourself backwards on the bed, Joel’s eyes hungry on your body as you went. He shucked his jeans and underwear off before crawling, finally naked, between your thighs. His head brushed against your sex and he took the base of his cock in his hand, trailing his tip up and down your dripping slit before spreading you open for him, your pussy swollen and tender as he did. He put his tip against your dripping entrance, pressed just the very end of him inside, barely opening you to him. His hands moved to your thighs, brushing over them to your knees before trailing back toward your center, his fingers splayed wide over you soft flesh. 

“You ready, baby?” He asked, needy. 

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d passed ready a long time ago. You were desperate now, aching and all but begging for him to take up every empty space inside your body. 

“Good,” he pressed forward until his head was fully inside your tight channel and you both moaned with it, one of your hands finding the smooth skin of your breast and squeezing it. He groaned at the sight as he started fucking just the tip of him into you, rocking in and out of you in short, sharp bursts. “Fuck, there you go baby. Just like that.” 

He started feeding you more of his cock then, driving further into you with each stroke until he fucked all the way into you, his hips flush to yours, his thick length stretching you open, the burn of him meshing with the heady pleasure of being so utterly full. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his cock buried inside you totally. “This pussy… fuck me.” 

One of his hands went from your thigh to over your hip coming to rest and the soft swell of the base of your stomach. He spread wide over your skin, his palm swallowing the space over where he was inside of you and pressing down, making you moan as the tight fullness inside you got more intense. His thumb stretched down toward your clit and he started working you there as he just held himself within you, making your cunt throb once around him. He groaned at the feeling. 

“That’s right,” he said. “So full of this cock ain’t you baby? Taking me so damn well…” 

He kept working your clit for a minute, not moving inside you, just pressing into your skin until you were practically writhing below his touch. He was so big, you were so full, the pleasure in your body so tight. It made your head spin. 

“Joel,” your fingers scratched at the blankets. “I need you to move, please, please, please…” 

“Please what, pretty girl?” His voice was dark, low. 

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please fuck me, please…” 

He drew back then, achingly slow at first, watching where his cock was pressing into you with a hungry look on his face, before thrusting back in, deep and firm. 

This, you thought, was why you liked fucking older men. Joel knew what he was doing. He worked your body with expert skill, grinding his cock deep inside so his head pressed against the most sensitive parts of you, the thick drag of him making your back arch and toes curl. He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure and pace keeping your pleasure building and building but never quite cascading over the edge. 

He kept fucking into you that way until you were desperate, your whole being drawn tight and achy around his cock. He’d stopped watching where your bodies were joined and had moved to your face, his gaze drinking in your desperate little moans and the way your eyes would scrunch closed as you got so close to coming but didn’t quite make it, whimpering as your climax fell just out of reach yet again. 

“Got you so tight and needy, hm?” He said, breathless. You just nodded, trying to rock your hips up against him but held in place by his hand on your stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? Tell me exactly what it is you need.” 

“To come,” you whimpered. “Fuck, I need to come, you need to let me come, please let me come…” 

“Think I’ve been keepin’ you on the edge too long?” He asked. “Think I should let this little pussy come? Let her just milk me dry?” 

“Fuck, please,” you begged, not caring if you sounded pathetic. It’s not like you’d see this man again after tonight, anyway. 

He took his thumb off your clit but before you had a chance to whimper in protest, he adjusted your legs to drive somehow deeper and leaned over you, pressing his bare skin to yours before kissing your neck, sucking and licking at the tender skin there as he fucked into you, making you whimper, your nails scrabbling over his back. His lips moved from your neck to your ear, his large hand coming to cup the crown of your head, his pace never relenting. 

“Come for me,” he whispered, low and needy. “You can come, want you to come, want to feel you come. Just let go for me, just give in to me.” 

His hips rocked against your clit, his cock buried so deep and you saw stars for a moment before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you hard after being on the edge of it for so long. It broke your whole body down, muscle clenching desperately, blood rushing, fingers clinging. You felt it everywhere, starting at your core and radiating out in hot, aching waves. 

“Goddamn, that’s it,” he fucked you through it as your core fluttered over him. “Just keep comin’ for me, just like that, feeling so damn good baby just…” 

He pressed deep as your orgasm started to fade and moaned, the sound going straight to your raw, fucked out cunt. The pulsing of his cock, in you to the root, rolled you into another orgasm, this one less intense but still making your pussy grip him close and tight as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on you for a moment as both of your climaxes eased, his chest heaving. Before his weight became too much, he adjusted, rising up enough to kiss you as he slid his softening cock from your body and falling flat on his back on the bed beside you. 

“Damn,” you panted after a moment, staring up at the ceiling. 

He laughed lightly beside you. 

“Know the feelin’.” 

You lay there next to each other, listening to each other as your breaths came back into a normal, steady cadence. Goosebumps started to pebble over your skin, the air cold as you were naked without his body on yours, the air conditioner below the window humming along. 

You turned your head to look at him and he did the same. 

“Should probably go…” his voice trailed off but he sounded reluctant. Or maybe you just hoped he did.  

“You don’t have to,” you said, probably a little too quickly for a man you’d just met. Even in the dim light of the moon and the parking lot lights out your window, you could tell he raised his eyebrows. “I’m just… you can stay, if you want. It’s a big bed. Think we can manage it.” 

“Wouldn’t want to impose…” 

“You’re not,” you said. “You can leave, too, if you’d rather but… don’t feel like you have to rush out.” 

He smiled a little. 

“Then I’ll stay. I’d like to stay.” 

You smiled back, that blissed out and relaxed feeling you had after you came settling over you.

“Good.” 

The two of you settled far across the bed from each other at first but drifted quickly, until your head was on his chest and you were curved around his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers trailing up and down your arm until you fell asleep. 

He was somehow even more beautiful in the light of day. 

You realized it as the two of you went about the strange intimacy of getting ready for the day side by side with someone you didn’t know. He blinked sleep from his eyes when first woke up and stretched his back before getting out of bed, his curls haphazard and messy and his body soft and warm. He got dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. You offered him your travel toothbrush as you got dressed and he watched you pull on your jeans as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe. 

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he said, a little hesitant. 

“Just how long?” You asked, teasing as you pulled on your shirt. 

“Longer than I want to admit,” he said, small smile making his cheek dimple. “Long enough that I don’t remember exactly how this is supposed to work but… I’d like to take you to breakfast. If you want.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure,” you said. “I’d like that.” 

Joel walked back to the bar and picked up his truck before taking you to a diner not too far from your hotel. You laughed with him about menu typos and the questionable song choices coming from the speakers over greasy eggs and toast soaked in butter. 

“Know we just met,” he said as you were on your fourth cup of coffee and you were both avoiding the fact that you’d have to leave this table and go your separate ways soon. The remains of your hashbrowns had long gone cold, ketchup smeared across the plate and you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him yet. “And that you’re in town for some family thing but… if you’re not busy tonight, would you want to come with me to this party? Buddy of mine is throwin’ in, supposed to be nice. Think he gave me a plus one in hopes I’d actually use it.” 

“Damn,” you winced a bit. “I really wish I could but the thing I’m in town for is tonight.” 

“Damn’s right,” he smiled a little. “Think you’d be my best shot for a good time at that thing.” 

“Yeah, back at you for my thing,” you laughed.

“Here,” he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. “Put your number in. Maybe we could still get together later…” 

You took it but hesitated, thumb tapping on the side of his phone case. 

He frowned.

“What?” 

“I live hours away,” you said. “Is this really smart?” 

He shrugged. 

“Don’t really care if it’s smart or not. Just want to see you again. If you’ll let me.” 

You smiled a little and shook your head before putting your number in his phone. 

“There,” you said, handing it back over. “Let me know when you’re done with your thing. I can think of a few more ways to get some good use out of my hotel room.” 

Two more cups of coffee later, Joel dropped you off at your hotel. You kissed him goodbye in the cabin of his truck, moaning against his mouth before pulling away. 

“Alright, go before I come back in with you,” he said playfully, reaching across you to open your door.

You laughed. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you got out and paused before closing your door, taking one last chance to look him over. “If we don’t see each other again… It was good meeting you.” 

“Good meeting you, too,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll see you again.” 

You went inside, looking back over your shoulder once you were in the lobby, Joel’s truck still sitting near the doors as he waited to make sure you were safely inside. 

There was an odd sense of loss in you as you got ready for your parents’ big anniversary party. You hadn’t expected to meet anyone when on your trip back to your hometown, let alone someone you liked so much. You’d been single for a while, doing things alone didn’t really bother you. But now, you felt this tug of desire to have him getting ready beside you where you could help him with his tie and he could zip you into your dress. 

But that was stupid. You knew it was stupid. Your job had taken you to Memphis and you liked it there. You weren’t in a rush to move back to your hometown. And Joel had a business here. It wasn’t going to happen. It’d be a lot easier in the long run if you just accepted that now. 

You showed up early to the party, your older sister wanting help to get things set up in the tents outside. 

“Who all is coming to this shindig anyway?” You asked as you put pictures of your parents out around a guest book near the entrance of the tent. 

“Oh, you know,” your sister waved you off. 

“Not really,” you said. She gave you a look. “What! I haven’t been home for a family party in… well, it’s been a minute.” 

“Yeah, and I’ve been the one doing all the work to help with those for a while,” she said. 

“And you’re definitely not bitter about that…” 

“Not one bit,” she teased. “But the usual people. The closest neighbors, the aunts and uncles, Mom’s book club, church people, Dad’s friends…” 

“Dad has friends?” You gaped at her. “Since when?” 

“He’s had friends for years!” 

“OK, he’s never had friends,” you said. “Where is he finding friends? Shit’s unnatural…” 

“Don’t let them catch you saying shit,” she said. “And there are a few from work, one from this basketball league he joined…” 

“Ew,” you crinkled your nose. Your sister laughed. 

“Definitely not ew,” she said. “At least not the basketball friend one, he’s weirdly hot, it’s disturbing…” 

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there?” You teased. 

“You’ll eat those words when you meet the guy,” she said. “Just wait.” 

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, skeptical. You and your sister had never had the same taste in men, you didn’t see any reason for that to have changed. 

But still, you were keeping an eye out for this mysterious hot friend of your father’s as people started to arrive for the party. Or trying to, anyway. You kept getting pulled away by distant relatives you hadn’t seen since your cousin’s wedding or to do a favor for your mom as she frantically rushed around trying to take care of everyone while also trying to have fun at the party that was being thrown in her honor. 

Everything was in full swing when you heard your father call your name from across the large, increasingly full tent. He waved you over, leaning around a man he was talking to, and you worked your way around the dance floor, trying not to think about how much you’d like to have a date at this damn thing - how much you’d like to have Joel as your date at this damn thing - when you froze beside your dad. The man standing next to him was devastatingly familiar, even from behind. Tallest man in the room, broad shoulders, thick curls. Your heart beat faster. 

“Hey honey,” your dad said, tugging you closer. “Want you to meet my friend. Joel, this is my youngest that I’ve told you so much about.” 

He turned around, a beer bottle in his hand a smile on his face that fell the moment he saw you. Your dad was saying something else but you didn’t hear it, too busy staring at the man who had been inside you less than 24 hours earlier. 

The man who had you thinking about what life alongside another person would be like. 

The man who was apparently your father’s friend. 

“Hi,” he said after your dad had stopped talking. You hadn’t noticed. 

“Hi,” you said, still staring at him. 

Fuck, you were in trouble. 

A/N: Here's whatever this is. He's unhinged, I don't know what's happening to the Joels who live in my head lately but they're just going crazy up there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Love you!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.

Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.

She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 

"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 

She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. 

Your whispers call out in the darkest shadows, My heart answers like a flame, Igniting this shared space with every breath I take, Giving you a love that will never find the end. It binds me to you, pulsing through my veins, Emotions like I've never known before. I've doubted that I could reach this place, But I feel endlessly sure here now.

Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 

"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 

It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.

When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 

"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 

At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.

Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 

"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.

The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 

"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"

"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 

"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.

Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 

"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."

"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"

Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."

She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.

"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 

"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"

"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"

Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."

Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."

Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.

"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."

"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 

There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."

Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."

Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"

--------------------------

"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."

Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 

"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 

"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."

His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.

I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.

This is Anna, by the way.

I should have started with that information.

Wow. This is already embarrassing.

Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."

"Good night, Robert."

Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 

I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.

He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.

Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)

Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.

The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.

That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 

Did I miss anything?

He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.

Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?

Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.

Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.

Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.

He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 

Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.

--------------------

Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.

She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 

"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 

When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 

"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 

Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 

Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 

Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.

I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 

When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.

Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.

Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 

"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.

Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.

She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.

Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.

"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.

--------------------------

Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"

"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"

He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."

She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."

"Too late."

She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."

Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.

Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"

He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."

"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."

"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."

When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."

"You keep saying 'next time'."

Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."

"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."

She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 

"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 

He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."

Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."

"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 

"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.

Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."

"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."

Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.

"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."

When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.

------------------------

When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 

She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.

She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Within minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 

"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 

She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 

The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.

-------------------------

Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

[adventuringblind]

charles having a baby fever

Father Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: fluff but also kinda smutty

Request: I saw this and my brain immediately went down the gutter. I appreciate you for this request 🙏 also my requests are open so send me things

Summary: Charles gets a case of baby fever and you're willing to indulge him ;)

Warnings: sexual themes ahead, not the whole thing but it's definitely in there. Talks of pregnancy.

Notes: I would be lying if I said I'm not a hoe for this man. Written in third person.

Masterlist

The following media is not intended for anyone below the age of 18. If your are under that, please do not interact with this post.

Charles had managed to take notice of every child in the paddock that day.

He'd recently been noticing small things. Things like baby clothes, small children, family interactions.

He'd watched Sergio and Kevin with their kids. Seb had brought his family around. It was starting to get to him.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want kids. Starting a family was always a dream of his. Something him and his wife talked about often. They just hadn't really tried for a baby.

He knew she was at their house. Waiting for him to come home with groceries. It felt peaceful compared to the life they lived during race season.

As he walked, he could pick out every family. Kids bundled up in their winter clothes. Adults holding them upright so they don't slip and fall.

He could hardly take it. He's never walked home so fast in his life.

She was in the kitchen when he appeared behind her in the doorway. She was prepping to make dinner.

Charles looked disheveled, out of breath. She was concerned and yet simultaneously turned on by his appearance.

"Are you alright?" She asked. Charles quickly came back to his senses. Dropped the bass on the floor and wrapped her in a hug.

"We should have a baby." He was looking directly into her eyes. His face completely straight.

She was taken off guard for a moment. Then, realizing the proposal, she started excitedly shaking her head.

Charles was waiting no time. Vigorously kissing her lips. Heavy but passionate.

She was giggling at him. "What are you laughing at?" He asked as he swiftly picked her up and set her on the counter.

"Nothing, I just find you adorable."

He was mumbling French into her collarbone and Italian into her chest. Letting his hands roam her body freely.

"You are so beautiful. Soon, you will become a goddess. Pregnant with our child." He cradled her face in his hands.

"Charles I swear if you don't stop teasing-" She couldn't get any farther as Charles practically ripped her clothes off. Now left in only her underwear.

He ran his fingers lightly across her now bare skin. Memorizing the feeling. Paying attention to the way she reacted to his touch.

His shirt and jeans were next. His lips only breaking away from her for a second. Her fingers begin tracing every line on his body. The way his chest was rising and falling in rapid succession.

“Mon Amour, shall we start here, then maybe move to the couch, then into the bedroom.” He’s voice is dripping with need. He is going to take her on every piece of furniture even if it takes all night.

Her brain was already turned off. The act of thinking to much with the feeling of his fingers worshiping her. She practically fell into him, humming her approval.

Charles lifted her for a second, her only remaining garment now tossed aside.

Then he took her on the counter, then again on the chair, the dining room table and the couch. Finally they made it to the bed where Charles made love to her softly. Her body trembling with every ministration.

Charles is the ‘king of aftercare’ as she likes to call him. Something he occasionally gloated about. Much to Pierre's dismay.

He grabbed a wet rag and a cup of water. Using the rag to clean off the bodily fluids that covered both of them.

She curled her body into Charles. Her head rested on his chest.

"I think you'll make a great dad." She mumbles. Charles laughs at the notion.

"Why do you think that Mon chère?"

"You just seem like father material, ya know."

"Guess I should learn some dad joke then." The two were both laughing now.

Basking in eachothers presence. Fantasizing about what life will be like with a growing family.

[adamsrcnan]

i'm thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards again and it seriously breaks my heart. the way he pulled out that first postcard and his heart sank when he saw the writing was blotted out and how he desperately spread them all out trying to find any still salvageable. and then the bear missing a piece and the hope that maybe the missing bit was at the bottom of the box but there was nothing there so it would never be fixed. like they knew it was his favourite and purposely left it irreparable.

and i need to know so many things!!! like when was the first time kevin gave him each of them?? what made him think of jean and pick them up?? what had he written on the back of the postcards??

what did jean think and feel when kevin first gave him them??? did he clutch them desperately in his hand?? bc it had been so long since anyone had given him anything after he'd been snatched from his home and come to the nest empty handed and reduced to a number. did he immediately display them proudly in his room?? or did he keep them hidden at first?? afraid that riko or someone else would take them away from him.

why was the bear with the beret his favourite??? what if it's because kevin handed it to him a stupid smile on his face saying "this one reminded me of you" and jean looks at it skeptically and says "why?? bc of the beret and i'm french?" and kevin just snickers a little and jean rolls his eyes and kevin says something teasingly in french newly taught by jean and jean feels something pull at his chest and he clutches the magnet tighter and says a curt thank you but every time he looks at it he'll remember how kevin smiled at him and how for a second they felt like normal kids and not helpless caged animals. and then he gets them back and they're broken and ruined but they're the only thing he's truly owned in so long so of course he will keep then forever even if he can't bear to look at them anymore. even if the thought of them damaged and destroyed makes him sick to his stomach.

and then!! and then there's jeremy who notices when jean's gaze lingers on the magnets on cat and laila's fridge and gets all excited when he spots jean's collection and tells him they can make room on the fridge and isn't aware of the sadness jean probably has to force down when he tells him they don't stick anymore and how jeremy automatically assumes it's because they were well-worn and sentimental bc he has no idea how much they meant to jean and how they were used as a way to get to him to hurt him.

my heart hurts it really hurts thinking about it. i really hope the trojan's start gifting him some and he starts a new collection and idk maybe jeremy learns the truth about what happened to them and tries his best to fix them up again or even searches desperately to find the same ones and maybe kevin hears about it too and starts sending jean new ones whenever he travels so that one day jean will think of those old ones or even see them up on his fridge or in a drawer and he won't feel an ache in his chest anymore.

[97keanu]

Valentine’s Day with the Keanuverse <3

John Wick: John would def start your day with breakfast in bed, and he is a wonderful cook, making everything you like and presenting it perfectly. He may take this time to give you a back massage while you enjoy your morning coffee, anything he can do to make you feel relaxed. Depending on the vibes of the day, he may have a lot planned out, like a surprise trip to your favorite destination, a spa day, dinner reservations, buying out a movie theatre just for the two of you(he loves if he can have you all to himself!). He may also opt for staying in, making you lunch, dinner, anything he can do to make your life perfect today(my boy’s love language is acts of service!). He will likely end the night with you in a bubble bath, enjoying each other’s company over an expensive glass of champagne, he’s not even afraid to do a face mask with you and really find some time to relax after everything. He is not letting ANYTHING come between you and him enjoying yourselves today. You end the night in bed with John lavishing your body with his hands, mouth, and whatever else he can to completely please you.

Types of presents include: Trips, cars, anything you want that he could ‘know a guy’ and make happen(remember that concert you really wanted that sold out?), spa day packages, handcrafted(but John is like, really good at it. Perhaps he tracks down one of your favorite childhood stories and restores the book for you!), shopping trips, homemade meals, anything you ask him for!

John Constantine: Let’s be honest, he probably forgot about Valentine’s Day, and is trying to work something out last minute. He’s running to the store to try to get flowers, but they’re already out, so he’s out doing something crazy like stealing from some poor soul’s grave. He’s trying to remember any hints you gave for what you wanted and barely remembering what your favorite candy is, which he luckily obtains. He calls up every restaurant in the city but all he gets is laughs when he tries. To make a reservation. Constantine is sooo disorganized for this, but the pressure hits him last minute because as much as he can be a callous asshole, he can’t have you thinking he thought you don’t deserve anything for Valentine’s Day. He finally finds somewhere that will let him buy takeout, and he takes home a bounty of last minute gifts and decor to his apartment where he quickly tries to plate the food and pass it off as his own.

In the end, after he picks you up and takes you back to his place, you enter to find his apartment set a glow with candles, soft music playing on his old busted CD player, and the smell of your favorite takeout. You are certain when you see the scene that he scrounged all this together, but at the same time, he looks at you with those dark puppy eyes, and you can’t help but be glad he remembered at all and tried. He gives you his slightly wilting bouquet of yellow and white flowers (claiming they were all out of red, but you suspect differently.) and you two have a lovely meal and a night in with some of your favorite feel good movies that Constantine would typically never sit down to watch with you. Even if it all seems small, you enjoy having some genuine time with him, and even getting to see him laugh and claim not to be teary eyed at some of the sappy scenes of the movie.

Types of presents include: Handmade, experience style gifts (perhaps taking you to his favorite secret spots!), flowers, all your favorite candies(that he could remember), maybe a chance to finally get to see his softer side.

Kevin Lomax: He’s going all out, he’s starting your day by sending breakfast to your door (all of your favorites of course!), sending dozens of flowers to your office just to make all the other girls jealous, sending a private car to pick you up too and from work, and leaving designer dress options and shoes in our bedroom for when you come home from work. You choose the dress you want to wear for the occasion, and your driver is taking you across town now to the fanciest restaurant in town. You meet him there, and Kevin looks absolutely dashing in his black suit and tie. He greets you with your first real gift for the night, a stunning piece of jewelry he knows you’ve been eyeing, then you two have a lovely dinner before going back to his apartment where you walk in to find the largest teddy bear you’ve ever seen holding more presents. He totally love bombs you for Valentine’s Day because giving gifts is on the top of his love languages, and you aren’t complaining. You two end the day in bed trying out some of the new toys he bought for the occasion.

Types of presents include: Perfumes, high end makeup, designer lingerie (for later of course), bondage gear (he loves making you his rope bunny <3), and anything you desire that money can buy. He may even surprise you with some heartfelt pillow talk when all is said and done.

Neo: Like Constantine, he is a bit forgetful of Valentine’s Day, but more in the sense of he has no idea what to get you and is absolutely horrible at deciding on a gift. He keeps trying to figure it out until it’s a week or two out and he’s found out he’s too late for reservations at all your favorite spots and on top of it there’s no way what he wanted to get you will ship in time, so he improvises. He sends flowers to your door and a note on where to meet him tonight. He doesn’t have much money so he hacks into wine and paint class via their online booking and you two end up having a great time trying to draw each other, despite his looking quite crude in form. He then takes you to a hotel reservation (that he also hacked his way into…) in the presidential suite, enjoying champagne and room service that is being charged to a card that doesn’t exist. You wonder how he got all this done, but you also know he has his ways, and don’t want to ruin the moment. You enjoy the room’s hot tub together while getting a little dirty trying to get clean. You have no idea how down to the wire he really was for making Valentine’s Day happen. He ends the night by gifting you a computer program that he made for you, and it’s awesome because it helps you with a daily task you’ve been irritated with. You two end up spending lovely quality time together, enjoying your time together and each other’s bodies no doubt!

Types of presents include: Handmade gifts, handcrafted technology (think: my boyfriend built me a computer!), hacked tech that would help in your everyday life, and he may even surprise you with something that you mentioned a long time ago(that he totally didn’t hack your search history to know about.)

Ted Logan: Ted is super sweet and caring for Valentine’s Day, surprisingly not forgetting that it exists in the first place. He ends up making you a handcrafted card and leaving it at your place of work with some hand picked daisies, all while saying it’s from a ‘secret admirer’ but Ted is the only person you know who would misspell ‘admirer’ in the first place. He doesn’t have a lot of money to get you anything fancy, but everything he does get you is heartfelt and well thought out. He picks you up after work and takes you to your favorite diner, then he finds the best spot in San Dimas to watch the stars together, tell jokes, and maybe even have a smoke sesh. You two end the night with munches being fulfilled by the nearby Circle K and a movie night at his apartment where he serenades you on his guitar between films. He buys all your favorite snacks for you and tries his best to make you feel really special. He is a words of affirmation guy so expect lots of sweet talk in your ear! He ends the night with his surprise gift, a locket with a picture of you two in it that he spent the last of his money on. He also gives you a handmade little notebook with all his favorite moments written in it with Polaroids of you two since you started dating!

Types of presents include: Handmade gifts(extremely arts and crafts, pink glitter glue ‘Will You Be My Valentine?’ Styled cards), your favorite candies, a small plush of some sort, picking wildflowers because he can’t afford the outrageous store prices, a song he wrote for you (performed alongside bill as his back up player), anything music related like making you a mixtape of your favorite tunes.

[pineappleciders]

ayo can i request a male (or gn if you prefer) adult reader adopting tweek, butters and kenny? bc i love those kids but they all deserve much better parents than the ones they have in canon.

masc adult reader adopting tweek, butters, and kenny (and a bit of karen)

A/N: i've never gotten to do a male reader b4 so i'm glad you asked!!!! these r kinda separate to keep it simple, also reader is referred to as dad :)

TRIGGER WARNING: SA and abuse mentions, drugs (obviously)

tweek tweak

first things first, you start weaning him off the coffee. you still give him smaller doses for awhile just to keep him stable and with no withdrawal

if you send him to rehab, he'd definitely be a little scared. so you pack his backpack and lunch and pat him on the head and send him off, telling him to text you if he needs anything

he's always coming into your room in the middle of the night gripping his pillow and pulling his hair.

"dad, the gnomes! t-they're back, AGH!"

"tweek, i thought we went over this..."

it can be a little difficult to calm him down sometimes, so you two practice breathing exercises in case you aren't there to help him

he carries around a little card keychain that you made for him with comforting words and grounding techniques. he carries it everywhere and attaches it to his bookbag!!

you put the coffee pods on the highest cupboard shelf so he can't reach them. he hasn't tried to reach them (as far as you're aware)

you try to smooth down his hair and brush it out but it somehow always pops back up. also his hairline is fucked. so are his teeth. he's a little fucked up in every way but you love him anyways

butters stotch

with butters, it's apparent that negative discipline is not the route here. you instead opt to use positive reinforcement when he obeys and does stuff right

you're not a pushover by any means, but you are a lot less strict than his biological parents.

he gets a little confused sometimes when he doesn't get shouted at or blamed for something he didn't do. like he walks in the door expecting to get yelled at but you just hug him and ask how his day at school was

he's really glad he can actually have friends over now. his friends are always commenting on how cool his new dad is compared to his old one

butters has learned to not talk about his trauma and past. he was always taught to bury it deep down and never mention it to anybody. so when he randomly blurts out how his uncle molested him at dinner, he's confused when you look horrified

he loves to play sports in the backyard with you!!! his old dad never really spent time with him, so he has the absolute time of his life playing ball with you. it becomes one of his best core memories

he likes to draw with crayons a lot so he always draws pictures of you and him like under a rainbow or something and you always hang it up on the fridge. you're quickly running out of room for his art

kenny mccormick

as soon as he gets home and you give him the OK to eat he is eating everything in your house

turns out it's really difficult for a 9 year old to properly grow on a diet of frozen waffles and dust bunnies. you're shocked when you're preparing his bath and he's a lot skinnier and shorter than the other kids

honestly if u adopt him then you have to adopt karen too. and kevin if you want. but preferably karen.

nothing makes kenny happier than knowing she's sleeping in a warm bed with a full stomach. it's just a bonus that he is too!!

like butters, he loves to play sports with you. specifically catch and baseball. he also forces you to play barbies with him and do a high-pitched girl voice

loves to fall asleep in your lap/in your arms. like he'll fall asleep mid-piggy back ride and just snore on your shoulder

always flexing on cartman that now that he isn't the poorest kid that cartman is now. cartman hates u for it

always wants a sip of your morning coffee and waits for karen to finish her food before finishing his. it's a force of habit and it's kind of sad but also really sweet

[detectivebambam]

@zerokrox-blog this got out of hand btw

How Keverejeandreil Got Together

obviously we start with Andreil. they've been together the longest. no surprise there, so that's step one

let's head over to USC. Jean and Jeremy are talking about Kevin and are a little tipsy and they end up kissing. PAUSE ✋

back to Palmetto. Andrew and Kevin are Juniors now, Neil is a Sophomore. around second semester Kevin is so damn exhausted that he falls asleep on Andrew. now they've been known to snuggle, but they definitely don't do that. Andrew realizes that his feelings for Kevin from his Freshman year never actually went away. the next day, he talks to Neil about it. Neil goes "if I was to date anyone else, it'd probably be Kevin or Jean". Andrew is like wait hold up, Jean is hot asf. so they talk about Jean and Kevin and how they want to dick them down etc. etc. FAST FORWARD.

now it's Kevin, Jean, and Andrew's Senior year. Jeremy is away on a pro team, and while they technically never started dating after the kiss (or even talked about it), Jean is still lonely. that's his partner, and while he's healed more since the beginning, he's still on edge. so Andrew, Neil, and Kevin fly Jean over to Palmetto for winter break. and, well.... stuff happens. Neil gets to watch Andrew put his mouth to work on someone else and realizes he quite likes it. Neil makes out with Kevin and Jean but doesn't go any further with them. Jean goes home.

and realizes that Jeremy wanted to surprise him and come back for winter break. whoops. Jeremy smiles and says he's glad Jean is making friends (Jean didn't tell him what they got up to), and he has to go back to the Pro team now. he says Jean don't worry I had a great time with my friends here, it's okay. but Jean is like no I'm gonna miss you, kisses him again, they fuck. back to Palmetto.

Kevi joins Andreil. now we have Kandreil. second step complete. Kevin gets a text from both Jeremy and Jean saying they have feelings for the other man. he makes a group chat, sends the screenshots of the messages, and leaves the group chat.

Jerejean get together. 3rd step complete.

NOW IT GETS FUN.

Andrew is very gay and very horny. caves at the sight of a single ab. Kevin is emotional, just came to terms with being bi, allowing himself to be attracted to men, and realizes the same thing Andrew did. all four of these men are hot as fuck. (Jean and Jereny came to the realization a long time ago. Andrew was Jeremy's first Exy crush)

and they're all on the same Olympic team (2010). and they're all rooming together. so. they start with truth or dare. then it escalates to spin the bottle. and then escalates from there. by the time they leave the Olympics, they have a group chat jokingly (?) named "The Polycule"

they're not on the same Pro teams, so yk, it's hard. they all visit Neil during his college breaks, but for the most part they're across the country from each other.

until 2012. Neil immediately signed to Andrew's team when he graduated, Jean is on Jeremy's team, Kevin is alone and feels bad. he doesn't want to transfer just for dick though. Andrew and Neil love Colorado. Jean and Jeremy realize the pro team they're on is incredibly homophobic and can't deal with it anymore. they go "fuck you, you lost your two best players" and transfer to Kevin's team. they live with Kevin because it's easier that way. Kevin has fucked them both of course, but he's not dating them in the same way he's dating Andreil. so he calls them and he's like "babes, would it be cheating if I dated these two during the season, and dated you two in the off season?"

Andrew and Neil are confused but down, so Kevin dates Jerejean in season and Andreil out of season. step 4 ✔️

2014 Olympics time. they're all 110% chill with sharing Kevin, and things are great. they fuck again, but then Jean and Andrew are like.... making out. and not because they're horny either. so they all decide they can be long distance boyfriends. step 5 complete, Keverejeandreil Polycule complete

but long distance is frustrating

UNTIL

the Utah Pro team puts a bomb ass trade offer for Kevin, Jeremy, and Jean (it's fiction i can do what I want). and because Neil and Andrew's house is right on the border of Utah and Colorado, they all move in together.

Keverejeandreil 💕

sorry this got so long

[cultpastorkevin]

Kevin Day & Grief:

how can you grieve the loss of an abuser?

aight let’s just get right into yet another psycho-analysis of Kevin Day and his messed up life; I’ll be using quotes from the EC

“Kevin does not react well to Riko's death at all, and this is a problem for a while considering what Riko's done to the Foxes. But Kevin & Riko have a long and complicated history.”

It is a very heavy and sharp type of grief to carry, when the person you mourn is someone who did terrible things to you and others. It’s not easy. It makes you feel guilty for missing them, makes you full of regret and “what ifs”. Grief is not rational, it’s something that tries to drown and take everything it can with it. Kevin is aware of what Riko was like, was well versed in the things he did and said. But he knew Riko before it all, he knew Riko when they could barely put their own shoes on. He saw Riko’s changes firsthand. He’s grieving everything that Tetsuji stole from the both of them. He remembers Riko in ways no one else ever will. The burden of seeing someone you love turn into the very thing you’re afraid of, is a heavy one to bear. It is even more heavy to know that everything that was good about them, dies with you.

Anger is always quick to rear its ugly head after the initial shock and the tears wear off, and it’s an emotionally bloody affair. Anger caused by sadness is one of the most gut wrenching kinds of anger, because there’s really nothing you can do about it but let it pass. You’re stuck feeling it, you have no choice. So yeah, Kevin was definitely angry. Angry at what Riko did to him, angry at the fact he’s outliving him, angry that he’s gone and angry because fuck, he shouldn’t be feeling this way, it’s not fair to everyone he’s harmed. For the first time in his life, he might’ve even hated Exy. All it has done is take from him the people that he loves, and playing is an eternal and constant reminder that he has succeeded Kayleigh and Riko. Picking up that racquet reminds him of his hand, and in turn, of Riko, who even at his worst was still loved by Kevin. And at the lowest points of his grief, seated in a bathtub and drunk off his ass, sorrow sometimes made Kevin wish it had been him instead.

“Wymack has to send the rest of the team back to South Carolina with Abby. Kevin is too numb to be moved yet.”

Kevin was so devastated he could not be moved; whether this is meant literally or in a “he didn’t have the energy to leave the house” kinda way, it’s still sad. Being so crippled by an emotion as heavy as grief that you cannot leave the home is hard. It’s painful. You’re dissociated and everything is a blur. You don’t register time passing. Eating, drinking, doing basic things all go out the window. And we all know what Kevin is like. He’s a routine oriented, night practice, calorie counting health nut who lives and breathes exy. He was so distressed that this man did not move and that means most likely, he did not fucking practice either. Kevin’s life ground to a halt for a second time because of Riko.

“It's a problem for a while because the Foxes' knee-jerk reaction to his devastated reaction is ugly. It'll take time for them to try and understand where he's coming from. Even Aaron has an awful opinion on the matter since he knows Riko was behind Drake. Renee attempts to play peacekeeper, but Wymack is the one who has to break his rule to stay out of their personal lives so he can try and fix things. He, Abby, and Betsy bring the Foxes to Abby's place two & three at a time to let them react and tirade in private. It's not enough, but it's a start.”

Kevin is not allowed to grieve without being guilted or punished for it in some way. He has never known a grief experience where he was completely supported during it. When his mother died, he was stuck with Tetsuji and Riko. He never learned how to grieve properly or healthily, and being attacked by the foxes for even feeling something didn’t fucking help. Wymack is the only (and probably first) person in his life who stayed by his side for this. Wymack went to the funeral, he stayed until Kevin could handle going back home. Wymack saw Kevin shatter and knew that he needed time to try to glue himself back together before the team inevitably caused him to crack again.

Wymack, Abby and Bee having to step in is all kinds of upsetting. Imagine having to basically set up impromptu vent sessions for your entire team because they cannot keep their personal feelings to themselves and can’t let a teammate grieve in peace. Granted the foxes aren’t exactly pinnacles of emotional regulation or maturity, but the least they could’ve done was leave Kevin alone (and let Neil and Andrew handle him)

“By the time they meet up again in the fall, the Foxes have attempted to forgive him his issues, because they understand from a logical standpoint that it's conditioned devotion.”

The foxes have every right to not grieve Riko, they have every right to hate him. They didn’t have the right to take it out on Kevin and isolate him even further from the group. It is a jarring feeling to be looked down on for mourning a loss. He did not need to be forgiven for his mourning. He did not need to apologize for missing Riko. His grief wasn’t something to be loathed. At the end of the day, Riko and Kevin were everything and nothing to each other. They operated on a delicate line of balance that shouldn’t have been able to be created. Their push and pull dictated every breath both of them took. Yeah, it was conditioned devotion in the end. But it didn’t start that way.

“Kevin Day goes on to be hailed the best player in the sport, the striker all future generations are compared to. The Jackie Robinson, the Wayne Gretsky, the bend it like Beckham. When the ERC constructs a Hall of Fame, Kevin Day is the first player to be honored.”

When Kevin received this honor, for a split second, he wished Riko was alive to share it. They started this dream together, after all. Only one of them being alive at the end is perhaps the biggest anguish of all.

[jtl-fics]

But also... Andreil on the great British bake off (they have celebrity seasons)

Look, I'm gonna be honest.

It's a disaster in two parts.

Neil is there EXPLICITLY because Stuart found out that he had been asked to go do it because he is technically British. Stuart has asked him to be the bane of Paul Hollywood's existence and is willing to do quite a bit to make the man's life hell.

"He knows what he did." is all Stuart will say on the matter.

Neil agrees to come be a Baker on the stipulation that Andrew also gets to come. Andrew has no interest in baking other than what it can produce for him to eat, he has no desire to do the laborious task of baking himself.

Stuart offers him an Aston.

Andrew agrees.

Neil is a nightmare in the tent. He hates desserts. He hates measuring. He has never done a single prep bake. He has no idea what the desserts are during the technical challenge. He just goes with his gut (his iron gut). He produces three straight desserts that Paul will not let Prue eat for fear that she will just straight up die if she eats it. He is a pile of misery upon consuming all three.

When Neil is kicked off in round one no one is surprised. Paul pats Neil on the back as he leaves the tent and Neil just leans in, "Stuart Hatford sends his regards." he says now that the mic has been removed. Paul Hollywood's tan fades but Neil doesn't look back.

Andrew is a nightmare for a completely different reason and that reason is that he very visibly and honestly does not give a single flying fuck about what he's doing but he's doing quite well. He is the most boring man on camera, zero quips, won't interact with Noel and whoever the fuck is the other presenter by this point, just him doing exactly what the recipe requires and then he always makes a point of grabbing whatever Paul and Prue have judged and taking it all back to his station so that he can eat it. He stares straight into the camera as he eats an entire three tier cake. He dedicates every week he is Star Baker to his inspiration: Kevin Day.

Andrew makes it all the way to the Finals with impressive bakes that he basically just decided on 100% by how much he thinks it would upset Kevin to watch him eat it knowing that he SHOULD be doing weight training for the olympics. ("Weight TRAINING not Weight GAINING Andrew! Do you have to hold up two fingers as you eat the entire thing? Can you at least PRETEND it's not to SPITE me?" Kevin wails as Andrew calls him for the post-credit scene where the star bakers call their families usually but Andrew just uses it so everyone can hear Kevin Day lose his mind on Public Access.)

Andrew gets to the finals and his show stopper....it's immaculate. It's gorgeous. It's a work of art. Paul Hollywood is looking at this feat of modern baking engineering in wonder.

He shakes Andrew's hand before he even tastes it and-

"Stuart Hatford sends his regards."

Paul Hollywood is now nervous to eat this cake. Does he look out at the gathered friends and family of the contestants and see Stuart Hatford? Does he remember what he did?

He eats the cake because show obligations and it tastes as good as it looks but he is oddly silent as Prue talks about it.

Andrew Wins and Paul Hollywood stays exactly one entire party's width away from Neil, Stuart, and Andrew during the entire victory picnic.

Andrew gives his post bake-off speech and flat out says it was kind of boring and he wants to go home to America. The next scene is him driving off with Neil in an Aston Martin.

Edit: Thanks @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm for the idea once again!

[iovesia]

Hi, dear! How was your day so far? Is it possible to write a reactions where the reader prepared a beautifully romantic dinner that looked stunning. However, despite the aesthetic appeal, the taste of the food turned out to be rather disappointing. Like really disgusting. The reader can't cook.<3 <3<3

you're a terrible cook,⠀⠀౨ৎ⠀⠀keanuverse. gn reader.⠀/⠀cw. sarcasm, fluff!

would take it like a champ, and lie with a smile. ⠀⠀⠀ted logan. neo. johnny utah. jonathan harker.

these boys are too sweet or think you're too sweet to tell you the truth. coming home and seeing a beautiful dinner laid out, with little rose petals on the table. the dreamy atmosphere of valentine's just makes him so bashful and excited. so when your abysmally salty food hits his tongue, he freezes for a second. he does a little slow chew, a weak smile on their lips and he gives a thumbs up.

seeing your proud grin on your face only makes him feel bad :(( it's the thought that counts! so what if the meat tastes like rubber and the potatoes are charred? he's gonna swallow it like a champ!

supportive! gives advice! ⠀⠀⠀john wick. jack traven.

these guys have a bit more of a spine, and wanna give their s/o advice! he's sure to thank you endlessly for the set up and the attempt at cooking dinner, and he's gently holding your hand throughout the dinner.

"hey.. um.. honey," he clear his throat. "maybe next time we can cook together, hm? and.. possibly not use a kilo of salt for the soup?" he jokes softly.

brutally honest or playfully mean about it. ⠀⠀⠀john constantine. kevin lomax. don john.

oh my word these ones .. sigh .. they're too sarcastic or brutal about their opinions. of course they're not straight up bullying you, but you would probably hear a stupid joke or comment.

"jesus christ," he snorts, covering his lips with a napkin. you roll your eyes at his overreaction, snatching the plate back. "oh baby, c'mon! i'm kidding!"

send me your thirsts & thots!

© iovesia, don't repost, copy or translate my works.

[themultifandomgal]

Kevin Atwater- Bombs And Drive By Shooting

"Ok Jackson ready for work?" I ask my sniffer dog who barks. I get out of the car and walk to the back letting him out

"Officer Halstead thank you for joining us" Hank Voight says to me walking over with my brother Jay

"No problem" Jackson jumps out

"How do you want us to do this?" Kevin, my boyfriend asks walking over to me and Voight

"If you guys could go in first and check the floor. Moving anything that could hurt Jackson, then I'll go in with him and he will sniff out drugs, money and fire arms"

"Sounds good. Atwater you and Burgess are up. Upton I want you to go in with little Halstead. I chuckle at Voights nickname for me to identify which one of us he's talking about.

Kevin and Kim head in first to look around, making sure that the men and woman in the house are secure and that the floor is ok for me to send Jackson in.

When I get the all clear Jackson Hailey and I walk in, Jackson sniffing around. He sits wagging his tail at a few different spots around the house, Kev finds drugs, weapons and cash

"Ok I wanna do one more round with Jackson. Make sure we haven't missed anything since there's been so much in this house" I let Kevin know who radios over to Voight what were going.

Jackson sits facing a wall wagging his tail

"It's just a wall right?" Burgess says looking at me

"Jackson's never wrong" I reply. Hailey goes to tap on the wall to see if it's hollow but I hear ticking

"Wait. You hear that?"

"Is that a bomb?"

"Possibly. Jackson is trained for bombs as well"

"How the hell did it get in there?" Kim asks looking around

"Let's back out slowly. Turn our radios off and get someone to phone bomb squad" Jay says. I walk over to a large painting and take it off the wall noticing a large hole

"This must be how they got it in the wall"

"YN let's go"

"Jay I might be able to see what kind of bomb"

"No. Your leaving now" Jackson and I are dragged outside. I place him back into my car while the building is evacuated. I walk back over to Voight, Jay and Kevin

"Maybe they knew we were coming, so they put a bomb there to blow up all evidence"

"Maybe" Jay replies that's when we all hear gunshots "get down!" Jay yells but it's to late. My leg starts burning and Jackson in my car is barking like mad, probably from the noise

"YN?" Kevin is by my side putting pressure on my leg. Bomb squad arrive and run into the building managing to disarm the bomb pretty easily. Which finally allows us to use our radios once again

"We need multiple ambulances at our location. Drive by shooting multiple victims with GSWs" Jay worriedly says into his radio

"I need someone to take my car. Take Jackson home" I say gritting my teeth together because of the pain

"I'll take him home" Hailey says "you just focus on staying awake"

"YN?" I hear Will shout my name as he runs over to us

"Will I need you to step back" Connor says getting to me first "no family remember. You can take a seat with your brother and Kevin. Brett speak to me"

"GSW to her left thigh. She's alert and awake, ketemine given in the ambulance" Brett tells Dr Rhodes who wheels me away with Maggie and April. Soon enough I'm asleep.

When I wake up Kevin is sat by my bed holding my hand in his

"Hey how you feeling?" he reaches over to grab me a drink and helps me sit up a bit so I can have a bit of water

"Tired. Did we catch the shooter?" I ask earning a chuckle off Kevin as I lay back down

"Yeah we did"

"Where's Jay and Will?"

"Gone to get us all a drink. You've been asleep for 23 hours"

"Fuck"

"Good news though, the operation went well and you should be able to go back on duty with Jackson in 5 or 6 months as long as you do your physical therapy"

"Your awake" Jay sighs walking in and handing a drink to Kevin

"You hungry?" Will asks me

"Not really. Feel a little nauseous to be honest"

"That will be the anaesthetic wearing off. I can ask Maggie or April to give you some antisickness meds?"

"Yes please" Will leaves the room "when can I go home?"

"In a couple of days" Jay says. I groan in response "sorry kiddo but you need to heal up a bit"

"I hate hospitals"

"So do I"

"Are you looking after Jackson for me?" I look at Kevin

"Of course, he's missing you though"

"Miss him too"

"Maybe we can pull some strings and get him here"

"I'd love that" I give Jay a smile. Maggie comes in with Will to give me some antisickness medicine and once it eases up I am able to eat something light.

[samijey]

broke my promise to myself and actually watched the jey/gunther match and let me tell you... whoever booked that finish wanted jey to look like an idiot. mega rant under the cut which you should honestly read im not your mama but you should read it

he splashes gunther after getting dominated for 80% of the match and an (honestly underwhelming) spear and we're meant to believe the +2yr champion who's beaten virtually everyone on the roster (including drew who recently beat jey TWICE) was about to be defeated right there?......okay............ but it gets worse

when the referee (for no real good reason) stops the count at 2 after jimmy rings the bell, jey "forgets" about gunther and turns his back to him, allowing gunther to get back up almost IMMEDIATELY (remember we were meant to think he was about to be beaten 5 seconds earlier) yet jey quickly superkicks him BUT THEN decides to dive at jimmy on the outside instead of going directly for another splash (girl help) so ofc when he does go for the splash, gunther gets the knees up, and to add a cherry on top of this shit sunday, pins jey right there after performing no extra offense - doesn't even roll him up, jey just lies there flat on his back and gets pinned (while michael cole screams "GUNTHER ROLLS UP JEY USO" to make me even more mad, apparently, as zero actual rolling takes place in the ring - just a leg hook & weight on the shoulders combo... and not a particularly vicious one either) I just ??????

and of-fucking-course as the TV feed gets cut, cue cody and punk who come out all smiles ready to do the usual fanservice routine for the live crowd and suddenly jey is mostly done selling what just happened and is smiling along with whatever you wanna call it - sending the crowd home happy?? since when did that become mandatory for broadcast shows??? why can't emotionally devastating moments count just as much when it comes to delivering a satisfying ending to the live crowd??? are you telling me they couldnt have had jey walk to the back WHILE SELLING the heartbreak/frustration of what happened and THEN send cody out to do the fanservice thing??? fuck maintaining suspension of disbelief I guess - you can't even argue that "it's fine it was just a treat for the live crowd" because WWE has posted the footage everywhere and promoted it heavily.

imagine if after the camera stopped rolling at last year's rumble, sami had got up, undone kevin's handcuffs and they both hugged and cut a cheerful promo at the crowd - everyone would've blasted wwe for undermining the impact of that finish and not letting the moment breathe.

here's another, even more similar example - remember what happened after summerslam when jimmy attacked jey? he sold the devastation of the moment all the way until he exited the arena, so why is this any different? because it's "just" TV and not a PPV? nah, i'll tell you why: because wwe does not give a shit about this current version of jey's character - he's there to spew the same catchphrase 100x an hour (because it sells merch and pops the crowd let's be honest), display a grand total of two personality traits, and rub his popularity off onto the people wwe actually consider stars

for comparison - you cannot tell me that if it was cody in this position (just lost an important match thanks to the most important person in his life + got attacked by them on top of it) wwe wouldn't have had him look devastated or cut an emotional, tearful promo that would've then been posted and promoted everywhere

"chill, it's not that serious" my apologies for wanting something i love (and KNOW can be so much better with minimal effort) to have a basic level of logic and thought put into it, it's not like wrestling booking is rocket science and we know wwe is NOT incapable of actually delivering good stuff 🤷??? the standards for this show are so damn low and seeing no one else be bothered by it does my fucking head in ouch ouch wheres the aspirin bye

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Mordent

Chapter Eighteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Billie

Word Count: 2880ish

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, this turned into more of a brother chapter than I originally intended, talk of tattoos and body mods, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean walked out of the studio with a cassette recording of their album, a CD and a thumb drive. He always asked for it to be playable in the impala and Ash always came through. The other options were for Bobby and Sam, respectively. Sam would send the files to everyone else. It was finished, set to be released while they were on tour, with the label’s stamp of approval and all. ‘Waysides and Regrets’ was thirteen songs packed with everything they could pour into them.

"Don’t call it a comeback,” Dean muttered to himself as he slipped into the driver’s seat and popped the cassette into the deck. The opening to Rupture ripped through the speakers and Dean cackled at hearing it like a civilian. He drummed along with Pam on the steering wheel as he turned out of the parking lot, saluting the guard at the gate as he went. 

He listened to it all before going back home. Rupture bled into Pushing Through which mellowed out to the subdued Brothers Keeper. Then they cranked it back up with Route 666, which slid into the angsty Prophet and Loss that showcased just why Kevin was Cas’ replacement (musically at least). Beyond the Mat and Goodbye Stranger were two sides of the same coin, introspective but in different tones, soulful and combative respectively. Then there was the first single, Annie’s duet, Baby, which Dean unabashedly wrote about his car, but as if she were real and he could thank her and praise her for everything she meant to him. He sang out loud with every word of that song as he cruised faceless side streets letting the music wash over him. 

Everybody Loves A Clown, Except Sam was supposed to be a joke track, but they got carried away with it and it actually was one of the funnest songs to play for Dean, and Kevin going full calliope for the chorus was totally worth it.  Gods and Monsters was fueled by Dean’s inner rage and where his anger came from, also known as John Winchester and his own self worth issues. Missouri had a field day when he sent her those lyrics. Then there was Lee’s track which Dean helped merely tweak some lines, Give Me My Axe: An Executioner’s Song. It was even better with the windows down and the road disappearing beneath his tires. The final track was an anthem, not quite what the kids would call a banger, but celebratory enough to be the potential second single from the album. It’s about the weekend Dean finally came up for air, when Sam holed him up at Bobby’s cabin in Tahoe and they had his come-to-Jesus intervention thing. It’s about letting go and letting your people catch you, aptly named Weekend at Bobby’s. It turned out better than Dean could have hoped.

He turned into the canyon when the bonus tracks started, knowing the album was drawing to a close and wanting Sam to hear it before he got too emotional about it. The house was quiet when he walked in, the coffee still in the pot, but Sam’s rinsed-out smoothie blender upside down in the sink. Dean found Sam outside, despite the cooler air, going through his yoga routine. 

Dean teased Sam about a lot of things, but it held little venom with the things that brought Sam well-being. 

“Hey, mop-head, got the album when you’re ready,” Dean called from the doors off the kitchen.

Sam exhaled and smiled, eyes closed in concentration. Dean didn’t know how he did it, but he understood sometimes other senses just get in the way of an experience, almost like they try to crowd it or consume it because it’s not about them.

“Gimme like ten minutes,” Sam replied and shifted into mountain pose. 

“Fair enough.”

Dean left the thumb drive on the counter and made his way into the living room. They had speakers in their jam room, but Dean hadn’t eaten and lunch was sounding better by the second. So he popped the CD into the stereo and paused it with one of the many remotes they’d accumulated through years of technological upgrades. Sam had an app on his phone for half of it, but Dean still favored physically punching buttons to get what he wanted done.

He made his way back into the kitchen and started pulling things out for BLTs. Sam had some tofu-bacon in the drawer and he fried that up too, and if a little of the real grease got on it, it was too bad for Sam. He grabbed a couple of bags of chips from the pantry and then some leftover fruit salad from the fridge to even them out. Life was about balance after all, and having a health nut for a brother and roommate Dean had learned to pick his battles. 

“Hey, that smells amazing,” Sam broke through Dean’s little self-congratulation.

“Yeah, mine does, yours smells like a nursing home cafeteria—- You ready?” Dean asked, holding up the remote with one hand while popping a chip into his mouth with the other.

“Hit it,” Sam agreed, sitting at the counter as Dean slapped his sandwich down in front of him.

They ate and listened, commenting here and there. Sam helped Dean clean up the kitchen and they both gravitated to the couch to finish listening. Dean took out a bowl he kept in an end table and packed it, smoking casually as Sam took in each song, each transition. 

It was one moment, but it was also a hundred others in the years before it. Brothers sitting in comfortable quiet as music spoke to them instead of one another. They were thirteen and nine and Dad had brought home a signed Lyle Lovett album for them to ingest. While neither of them were yet prone to country, it shifted their ideas of just what good music was. They were fifteen and eleven and done enough chores for a trip to Record Town in North Platte where they each got a tape apiece. Dean got Jar of Flies by Alice in Chains while he convinced Sam to get The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails instead of Tori Amos’ Under the Pink. They read every line of production details and lyrics on the pamphlets tucked into the plastic cases. 

Sam came home to find Dean back for the weekend. It was early ‘98 and it felt like everything had turned horrifyingly pop focused. The Prodigy’s Fat of the Land was playing on the boombox Dean had dragged out of Sam’s room as his big brother cleaned the kitchen back to his standards and not Kate’s livable level of clutter. They were waiting to hear if they had a brother or a sister. The only thing said between them was Dean reassuring Sam that he put his Celine Dion CD back in its case. 

They sat in Lee’s dorm room, stoned and drunk, watching as his roommate's computer uploaded their album. It felt like it would take forever, but it was also insane to think that people all over the world could listen to their music. It was full of possibility, but it was also just two brothers and their friends in their habitat, existing together.

“Dude— did you autotune me?!” Sam gaped, chuckling self consciously while listening to his line of the acoustic track of Brothers Keeper.

“Barely. Like nobody’s gonna notice, they’ll be too busy balling their eyes out,” Dean reassured.

“Yeah, like you, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Sam laughed, but let his embarrassment go; the nervous bastard always hated singing which was why he wasn’t as good at it. 

The album reached its end and they started talking about ideas for the tour, things to write down and beg Charlie for like lighting designs or album specific imagery when they hop back into their older stuff. It was almost four when Dean finally got over to Bobby’s with the CD, but he didn't stay for another listen. He let Annie have her moment with Bobby gushing, as much as the geezer could or would gush.

On the way home, you called him squealing with excitement.

“You listen to it already?”

“No! I just got the files from Sam. I guess I shouldn’t have called until I heard it all, huh?”

Dean chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll hate it and never want to talk to me again.”

“Ha-ha. But no, seriously, I’m so excited. I’m going to blast it as I meal prep. Do you want my review long hand or can I just call you back and talk your ear off?”

“Whatever you’re willing to give me,” Dean tried for playful.

“Dangerous, Winchester. Okay, well I have like ten more things I have to do now that we have a single. But I’ll be in touch.”

“Sounds good— and thanks.”

“No— thank you.”

Dean hung up and let the fear roll in. You were going to hear it all. Everything he had been through and everything you had helped him overcome. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset by making a cameo on something so public. Or embarrassed by the way he still needed you. 

Dean promised he’d be on his best behavior. Part of that was putting out fires for the band, to try and help make your job easier. So after the shake up from Kevin and Cas, he called Billie and apologized for his bandmates’ (both past and present) disrespect. She told him he could make it up to her. But there was no way Dean was going under the needle again, last time he even looked at one he almost threw up. But, it just so happened he knew someone who was in the market for some art. 

Unfortunately, that meant Dean would have to tag along.

Billie’s studio was modern and bright, with different colored walls contrasting the silver accents, both mirrors and shelving. From the outside, Reaping Ink was a small sign on a battered street, but inside it felt like walking into an art gallery and not someplace that had hard sharps containers and enough first aid equipment to stock an ambulance on hand.

And the furniture was always so damn comfortable.

The last time Dean had been here was for a memorial tattoo for Jo that you got on your right shoulder. He nearly broke your hand holding it as he tried and failed not to watch your skin be pierced continuously. It was a beautiful tattoo, everything Billie did was masterful. It just wasn’t something Dean wanted to sit through again.

Luckily for everyone, Bela didn’t need Dean to hold her hand. But she did need him as in with Billie, who usually booked appointments six-to-eight months out. 

“Hello, Dean,” Billie’s dark voice called once they walked in, she stood so still and so silently, he hadn’t even noticed her among the cacophony of color in the waiting area.

“Heya Billie, this is Bela,” Dean guided Bela with a hand on the small of her back, the way Billie’s dark eyes clocked the motion made Dean want to step back. Like a nun catching you standing too close to your crush in the hallway. Dean never went to Catholic school, but that feeling of getting caught, of doing wrong was universal.

“Pleasure,” Bela smiled at the artist, while Billie just nodded.

“I have a couple versions for you to pick from, I think I got the gist of what we talked about, but I wanted to be sure on sizing and layout. So come on back and we’ll get started,” Billie went straight into business mode. No whining about Cas’ impulsiveness or speculating on Dean and Bela’s relationship. At least verbally, her eyes held a very different story.

She had three different stencils already cropped and laid out for Bela to see as Bela rucked up her top and rolled down her leggings. It wasn’t a tramp stamp, she was insistent on that, but it was on the back of her right hip, something she could glance at or hold if she needed to. The way she talked about the position of the tattoo, made it seem just as important as the content or the coloring of it.

“Dean?” Bela’s voice drew Dean out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” 

“Can you take pictures with my phone? Before, during, and after?” Bela handed him her unlocked iphone and he turned it around to focus on her nearly bare back. He took a few shots and gave it back. 

“You’ll want that to distract you, trust me,” Dean assured.

Bela rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

Dean went green. “As long as I don’t have to watch.”

“Really?!” Bela exclaimed and looked over to Billie for confirmation.

“Mmm-hmm, boys one of the worst I’ve seen around needles. No wonder he doesn’t even have his ears pierced.”

“I guess I never noticed—- wouldn’t have thought. Poor thing,” Bela sighed as she settled on her stomach on one of Billie’s many specialty beds. 

“Can we not? I mean, I’m here ain't I?” Dean huffed and pulled out his own phone. You still hadn’t texted him what you thought about the album, but he also knew you were busy, so he didn’t want to rush you or look too desperate.

He felt Bela and Billie have a silent conversation as he pulled up his sudoku app, but ignored them as Billie got the stencil in place, only getting up to snap another picture. Then, they were off. Bela and Billie making small talk about the design, which Dean knew Bela had put a lot of thought into, especially since it would officially tarnish her good girl image. Even in this day and age, most of her fans were in their fifties. A tattoo could rattle the masses. But getting one with Dean seemed like a good compromise of their images.

He was rubbing off on her, so to speak. Well, he hadn’t done that literally since his talk with Sam, but you know.

They sat for an hour and a half and took a break, Dean went to get food and coffee, which he left in the lobby so as not to infringe on Billie’s strict rules. Dean took a couple more pictures and some stupid selfies for Bela to find later. The shop was closed to the public and since Billie’s latest playlist had started over, Dean asked if he could hook up to the bluetooth. 

Billie looked at him appraisingly as it became clear that he was playing his own music during his girlfriend’s appointment. 

“What?”

“You’re either looking for my approval or you’re buttering me up by letting me hear this first. Which is it?” Billie manhandled Bela back into position to get going on the shading.

“I don’t know, man. Both?”

Billie hummed, but didn’t reply.

Dean walked around the studio, looking at the different sets of flash and paintings that covered the walls. He flinched away from the spinning display of rods, tapers, disks, and rings for piercings and stretching. He felt like a waste of space, but mainly because he was never any good with boredom. Being idle in a place he was already uncomfortable, for a plethora of reasons, was akin to torture.

He remembered to breathe.

He checked his phone. He put that back into his pocket. He stole Bela’s phone for a few more pictures, trying not to look directly at her raised, red flesh.

“How’s it going?” Dean asked, after giving Bela her phone back, his album running its course around them.

“I’d say another twenty minutes and then I’ll bandage her up. You good?” Billie asked, surprisingly sincerely.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just curious,” Dean muttered.

“Hey, Dean. I like the music,” Billie said, waiting for him to make eye contact.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, trying not to let his blush show.

“When’s it coming out?” Bela asked, suddenly reminding Dean why he was there in the first place.

“End of April,” he said. “Single’ll be released week after my birthday.”

Bela paused and looked up at him, but Billie was the one to break the ice.

“Which is?”

“Uh, the 24th. Baby hits your airwaves on the 29th.”

“Is that Annie Hawkins on that track?” Billie asked.

“Yup,” Dean grinned.

“Damn, almost forgot about her. Nice pull,” Billie praised.

Dean chuckled, not explaining his connection. She’d find out eventually, if it even mattered. “Yeah, we got lucky with that one.”

Bela was inked up, wiped down and vacuum sealed over the following half hour. Dean paid for the work, plus a generous tip. And posed for a few promotional shots with Bela and Billie alike. Once everyone was satisfied that what they had would help all involved, Bela and Dean said their goodbyes and thank yous and headed out for a late dinner at Elizabeth’s. 

“Do you want me to send these to you or to Y/N to latergram?” Bela asked as their drinks arrived. 

“Just send ‘em to Trouble. She’ll know what to do with them better than me,” Dean ducked out of the responsibility, unaware he was planting another social media minefield for you to navigate by doing so.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Nineteen: Pizzicato