#phillies swallow

[pretty-saucy]

It makes it much easier to just love my dream version of Calum and get over the real Calum when I hear him waxing poetic about Philadelphia. Fuck that place.

[leaentries]

Riding High | nico hischier

summary: when his girl decides to take charge, whose he to object?

warnings: marking, slight handjob, hair pulling (m. receiving), unprotected sex, riding, creampie, slight cockwarming, sub!nico, more porn with little to no plot, swearing

wc: 1.6k+

the captain’s girl masterlist

Stumbling through the front door, your lips found any part of Nico they could latch onto. Hands snaking up the tight tank top that clung to his rigid body. The slight scar that remained on his cheek flashed in your vision as you kissed up his jaw. 

Nico Hischier’s existence was truly unfair to other men.

“Fuck, schatzi.” He panted as his foot managed to kick the door closed. 

Nico’s body pounded against his sweaty skin, still riding high from the team's win over Philly. His mind went hazy the second your hands began to roam once you reached the elevator. His heavy breaths were the only sound that escaped into the crisp air. He was putty at your feet, but he preferred it that way tonight. 

Truth be told, Nico loved it when you decided to take control over him. It gave his mind a break from “Captain” mode. Normally, Nico would bend you over and have his way with you, especially after a win like this, but all he could think about was the way your nails felt against his toned abdomen. 

And the shockwaves it sent to his cock.

His head tilted back as your mouth began to leave hot red marks down the column of his throat. Nico squeezed his eyes shut, pulse beating rapidly against your lips. His chest heaved with anticipation.

“Please, baby,” Nico whined. 

A small smirk found home on your face, relishing in the whimpers that left your boyfriend at the slightest touch. He was so sensitive, yet it just fueled your libido that much more. Pulling your mouth away from his body, Nico’s eyes shot open, immediately seeking your own. His bambi eyes were blown out, pupils so dilated they were practically black. 

He swallowed the complaint bubbling up, “Why’d you stop?” 

It was almost endearing, the meekness in his voice. Nico was so driven by the pleasure you were bringing him that he couldn’t form a coherent thought about anything else. 

You remained silent, simply pulling his wrist as an invitation to follow you to the living room. He let you guide him without hesitation, body desperately craving your touch. You quickly kicked off your shoes, discarding them somewhere between the kitchen and the living room. 

Once you reached your desired destination, you moved Nico till you could walk him backward towards the couch. He felt his calves hit the soft cushions, falling down to them as you gently pushed his chest.

Straddling him, you brought your hands to his swollen biceps in an attempt to balance yourself. Nico’s warm eyes peered into yours, patiently waiting for your next move. He traced every inch of your face as you reached down to grip the bottom of your sweater. Nico felt his breath hitch the second your breasts popped into view. 

The sound of his uneven pants was music to your ears, but the feeling of his thick cock pressed against your core was even better. Throwing aside your sweater, you began to slowly grind yourself down into him. Nico’s head fell back, exposing his marked-up neck. You brought your lips back to where they were earlier, this time lowering your trail. 

The slight red tint of your lips marked their territory on his white tank, no doubt staining it. You dragged your hands over his chest, smirking at the stutter of his hips as you brushed over his nipples. You continued your journey downward, only stopping once you reached the hem of his shirt. You gripped the edge, urging Nico to help discard the material. He leaned up, swiftly removing the unwanted layer. 

As he leaned back, you let a single finger dip through the faint lines of muscle on his stomach. Nico’s chest was covered in a sheer coat of sweat as your teasing got worse. He opened his mouth once more but was quickly silenced by your lips. You swallowed any sounds he attempted to make, licking into his welcoming mouth. Nico hummed in approval.

You slowly untied the sweats he had on, dipping your hand into the waistband. You pulled away to look at his flushed features.

“No boxers, Neeks?” You teased.

Nico blushed a deeper shade of red, crimson now spreading down his neck. The words he once had died in his throat.

He shook his head slightly.

You felt a wave of adoration wash over you at the sight of your big, hockey player boyfriend getting all shy. Nico wasn’t typically like this, it was a welcomed change to your sex life.

You tsked, “Such a naughty boy, Nico.”

Although he knew you were joking, his cock leaked at your sultry tone. You wasted no time in pulling down his pants just enough to pull out his dick. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you slowly began to pump him.

“Oh fuck,” Nico’s eyes screwed shut, “Just like that, schatzi.”

You continued pumping him, letting your thumb rub over his swollen tip in the process. In spite of his protests, you remained at a torturingly slow pace. You took the time to admire the slight curve of him and the way Nico would buck his hips when you applied pressure to the vein on the right side of his cock.

“Such a pretty cock,” You cooed, “So pretty, all f’me.”

Nico whimpered.

You thought his moans were hot, but hearing him whimper from just a basic handjob was a whole other ballgame.

You continued to stoke him, beads of precum beginning to stick to the tips of your fingers. Nico’s body began to tense as you squeezed the base. 

“S-shit,” He cried.

You knew he was close, but the throbbing that each of his whines sent to your clit was enough to have you pulling back and stepping off of him. Nico looked at you pathetically, desperation and need filling his dark eyes. 

“I know, I know,” You soothed, “I just need you inside of me, pretty boy. That okay?” 

Nico couldn’t agree fast enough. He attempted to help remove your leggings, only to be swatted away. 

“Nuh-uh. No touching until I say so.” 

Nico swore he almost came right then and there. Something about the authoritative edge in your voice had his mind reeling. The only thought he could process was you sinking down on him until his cock was so deep he wouldn’t be able to remember his name. 

You rushed to discard your bottoms, your own desperation now taking over. You straddled him once more, biting your lip as his hard-on pressed into your sensitive clit. You ground yourself further down, spreading your arousal all over his length. 

“I can’t,” Nico’s hoarse voice snapped you back to reality, “Please, schatzi. I need to be inside you.” 

You leaned to press a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“Okay, baby.” 

Giving in to his pleas, you carefully line his tip with your soaking entrance before slowly sinking down. Your eyes nearly roll back at the delicious stretch of him. Nico struggled to regain his breath as your tightness made his cock weep. 

You both sat for a moment, too worked up to move yet. Placing a kiss on his scar, you gently began to move your hips. Nico’s hands flew to your waist, gripping the meaty flesh. Too consumed in the way he felt dragging along your velvet walls, you couldn’t even bring yourself to reprimand him for breaking your “No Touching,” rule.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair. Nico’s moaned as you tugged slightly.

“You, fuck,” You gasped as you you continued to bounce, “You like that, Neeks?” 

He nodded, giving you his infamous doe-eyes. 

“Yeah? You like it when I pull your hair?” 

You pulled again, this time slightly harder. Nico’s hips bucked up, a deep groan bubbling up from his chest. Satisfied with his reaction, you moved your hands to his shoulders. You braced yourself, quickly increasing your pace. You tried your best to ignore the burning sensation in your thighs as you rutted against Nico.

Nico noticed your pace faltering, his hands moving to your thighs to hold your weight. His hips began to thrust upwards at a brutal pace, a loud cry escaping your mouth. Your hands scratched at his muscles, clinging to the back of the couch as the searing pleasure began to build in your tummy. 

Nico, lost in his own pleasure, began to mumble incoherent German in your ear. His husky voice sent pulses of electricity through your veins, finding enough strength to push back against his pelvis as he thrusted. 

In his mix of languages, you were able to make out hsi faint chant of begs.

“Keep doing that, schatzi.” 

“Oh, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum, please.” 

You swiveled your hips forward, Nico’s cock edging deeper into your cunt. You convulsed around him, coaxing him to his orgasm. 

His head fell back, deep whines leaving with each thrust as you milked his cock. The feeling of his warm finish filling your spent pussy was enough to tip you over. You screwed your eyes shut as you felt the waves of orgasmic bliss blind every sense you had. 

You could barely make out the feeling of Nico’s thumb rubbing encouraging circles around your clit. 

Coming back to reality, you collapsed into Nico, his strong arms wrapping around your soft figure. You both relished in the post-sex glow, enjoying the feeling of each other's bodies pressed so close together. You let your eyes shut, Nico’s fingers running down your spine lulling you into relaxation. 

“You ready for bed, baby?” 

You smiled at the change in his demeanor. It was just like him to immediately take on his protective and caring nature once more. Not that you were gonna complain. 

You shook your head, “Want to stay here for a minute. I like you inside of me.”

Nico let out a groan, “Can’t say things like that, schatzi. You’re gonna make me hard again.” 

You simply laughed, placing a kiss on his collarbone.

[mikichko]

stress relief inspired by the silly question I get asked whenever I tell people I don't drink alcohol pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader a/n: still figuring out this smut shit and wrote this in a haze so... enjoy? cw: nsfw, explicit smut, p in v sex, no real gendered terms but reader has vag+clit so do with that what you will <3, all lower case

“drink?” a scarred hand blocks your leftmost view. in it is a can of some shitty seltzer drink that's already dripping with condensation.

you shake your head, chin resting on your hand as you continue to watch the silent baseball game. phillies are down by four against the fucking cubs. what a fucking disgrace. 

“you sure? can always get you another flavor.” he places the drink on the counter next to you, a ring already forming on the wood.

you turn to him, meeting brown eyes, “not fond of alcohol. diet coke is more my vice. the carcinogens make it fun.” 

he snorts, taking a sip from his brown drink. you pull your eyes from him and turn them back to the screen, ready to watch your team continue to get dogged. 

“so how do you relieve stress then?” he’s on the stool next to you now. he’s so broad he eats up some of your personal space, more of it when he leans in anticipating your answer.

your head cocks in confusion, half of you still turned to the tv to see if the phillies will get their shit together. “sorry, what do you mean?”

he glances at the tv, trying to gauge what it is about this silly sport that has you so engaged. he shrugs, following the movements of the pitcher and the batter, “y’know, some of us throw back a drink or two to ease that tension. what do you do?”

you freeze for a moment and you’re thankful that you’re staring at the tv and not at kyle. you don’t think you could keep your poker face on if you were looking him in the eye. because, how exactly do you tell your friend that your favorite method of stress relief is to make yourself cum until you’re a sweaty, whiny, slick mess twitching on your bed. how do you even keep a straight face when that would be your first thought? especially when your friend looks as good as kyle does.

instead, you hyperfocus on the game. the movement of the ball, the pitching clock, the umpire’s hand signals, all of it to stop thinking about how nice it’d be for kyle to spread you out and fuck the tension out of your body. you lick your lips as you try to find an excuse or any words to steer the conversation in any other direction.

licking your lips is a mistake. it only makes you more aware of how quickly your mouth is filling with saliva, no matter how fast you swallow it all down. fucking hell. he just had to remind you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to take care of yourself. the stress of life and its shitty fucking responsibilities fucking up your routine. gotta get yourself out of this somehow.

you shrug nonchalantly, at least try to, taking a sip of the fruity virgin mixture in front of you. “nothing really. it kinda just, yknow, dissipates.”

he snorts, shaking his head at your response, “fucking bullshit. i’ve seen you so wound up you nearly kicked soap’s head through the wall. next day you walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.” he drums his fingers on the counter studying you, “too quick a turn for it to just, dissipate”

is he a fucking narc? what’s his fucking deal with all these questions? this has never come up before. why’s he so fucking interested in your stress relief methods all of a sudden?

what kyle fails to mention is that he heard you the night of your tiff with soap. that he shared a wall with you while you fucked yourself raw and the slick had dripped all the way down to your asshole and onto the bed. had to fucking bite his pillow while he fisted his cock at the sound of you cumming, a high-pitched whine before you bit your lip and rode out the orgasm with breathy gasps. 

he wanted to break down your door that night. dip his thick girthy length into your wet hole just to feel how slick you got after you came. wanted to pin you down, maybe get price in there to hold your legs to see how loud you got when he kept sucking on your clit after you came. see how you’d fight against him, beg him to stop because you’d never done this before. never had your clit feel so raw before. wanted to see if you’d bless him with that sweet creamy mess he’d been dreaming of for fucking months.

he came four times that night. cock raw and balls empty just at the sounds of you he got through the wall. you’d only cum three times, clearly too cautious to really let go and make a nice and proper mess of yourself. he’d told himself that was just something he’d have to rectify later

you clear your throat, watching the teams switch positions on the field, “dunno what to tell you man, yoga does wonders.”

kyle hums around the rim of his glass, eyes dropping to your legs, not missing the way your thighs press together. more than necessary to keep yourself comfortable on the stool. 

“must be some kind of crazy fucking yoga. gotta tell me the studio, instructor too”

your head whips around to kyle, eyebrows drawn tight together, “what?”

he shrugs, eyes never leaving the tv, “it just seems to help you out so much, i want to try it for myself.”

you sputter for a second, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “kyle i-”

he leans in a little, “i promise i wont tell the rest of the boys. you’ll get to keep your yoga spot a secret. but i really want to try it out. share with me please?”

he’s fucking with you, right? he has to be. there’s no fucking way he’s actually interested in this. you don’t even know enough yoga spots in the area to come up with another lie to round out your story. you don’t even have enough time to flounder in the depths of your mind.

kyle hooks a foot around one of your legs, “cmon, please. i’m really trying to find alterna-”

“kyle!” you hiss, interrupting him. completely fed up with his insistence your voice drops, “fucking hell i was lying. i don’t fucking do yoga. i just… i can’t fucking tell you.”

his eyebrows knit together in mock confusion, “what do you mean? aren’t we friends?”

you lick your lips as you try to find the words. “some friends just dont share everything kyle.”

he scoffs, “fucking bullshit. you told all of us when you got that broad off in the alleyway behind buckey’s. practically told the whole bar.” 

“jesus christ, can you keep your voice fucking down!?”

“god i’m just saying if you can tell me that then you can-”

“for fucks sake,” you hiss out. you’re getting hot, and not the fun kind, the longer this conversation continues, “i make myself cum okay? over and over and over again until i’m fucking twitchy. until i cant think about or feel anything besides how good i fucking feel. fucking happy now?”

kyle’s grin is wide, his eyes have something swimming in there that you hadn’t noticed before. “yeah actually.”

there’s a pause as you let his words hang there, confusion evident in your face. what the fuck is going on.

“so,” he throws back the rest of his drink right as the cubs batter hits another ball into the stands, “you going to show me? told you i want to try your method out.”

somehow, it’s a blur despite not a drop of alcohol in your system, you end up underneath him. 

he uses the head of his cock to spread your puffy lips apart, groaning at the pool of wetness that appears. he swirls it with his cock, tapping around the clenching hole, “just giving it a kiss love. gotta be polite” 

his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he presses his thumb down right under the head pushing it into you. a low groan escapes him as he presses past the tight ring of muscle, head falling back as he thrusts shallowly into you. “fuck that’s good. can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me”

whatever response you had for him is wiped from your brain as he bottoms out into you. you groan simultaneously at the feeling. he’s panting trying to get accustomed to how fucking hot and tight you are around him. you’re wriggling, trying to put some distance to ease the feeling of being so fucking full. you don’t get very far. “fucking hell kyle!” you cry out as he drives his hips into you. he’s got you open wide under him, arms positioned so that you cant shut him out, forced to take the beating that his hips deliver.

“it’s stress relief,” he groans as he grinds his hips into your wet heat. your fingers digging into his shoulders at his movements, “supposed to be a little rough”

he grins, licking his lips before he gives you a particularly filthy thrust. you can’t help the ‘fuck me’ you cry out.

kyle licks a wide strip up your neck, teeth catching your chin before biting down and making you whine. “i’m trying to baby,” he whispers into your ear, groaning when you squeeze him at the sound of the petname. he’s panting into your ear again, “fuck baby,” another groan as you clench around him again, “you like it when i call you that?” he huffs a little, the cadence of his thrusts changing to be slower, deeper. “didn’t know you were a romantic love.”

you’re not. or at least you’ve not been in the past but you can’t help how you react with the way that kyle’s cock is scrambling the connection of your brain. fuck, you couldn’t think before when he was just using you as a little sleeve but now, with those slow deep thrusts, he’s turning your brain into liquid. you wouldn’t be surprised if it started leaking out of your ears.

it’s just been so fucking long since you’ve been properly fucked, you tell yourself. resigned to your toys and hands for more than two years. too busy and too easily annoyed to deal with the person that a nice warm cock came attached to. that’s all it is you tell yourself as kyle praises you and your body arches into him. you’re just raw, in more ways than one, that’s why it’s making such an impact on you.

“fuck, baby, are you getting wetter when i fuck you like this?” he rolls his hips again, you can’t help but whine. another low groan from him, “fuck you are. god you love it when i do it like this huh?” 

one of his hands lets go of your leg, finding your own and interlacing them. he holds your hand over your head, hips not even stuttering, “promise i’ll fuck you nice and lovely right now baby. let you get all nice and wet, all messy for me. then you’ll let me slut you out right? let me use this pussy like i want to? i just wanna see what you’ve been keeping from me. gotta let me have you more than just one way.”

your entire body tenses at that, eyes rolling a little at the sound of it. fuck you’re already near the edge and he’s talking about more. more of this nice thick cock plunging into the deepest part of you. kissing the spongy spots inside you until you’re cumming around him more than once. god is he trying to imitate a session? his cock your own toy for personal use? 

no. no, this session is for him. you’re his toy. a little sleeve for him to test out, to get a taste of what he’s been missing he said. you just get the delicious benefit of getting to cum on his cock until you’re leaving a nice frothy ring on the base of his cock. christ. this man is going to ruin your stress relief for you.

“cmon baby, give me what i want” then he’s pressing a small bullet vibrator right on your clit, groaning at the vibration against his pelvis. you cant help but squeal and try to wiggle away from him but he has you pinned. the thrashing doesn’t help, if anything it aides in getting the vibrations right on your aching clit. it’s not long before the war sensation over takes your body and your eyes roll back as you twitch around kyle’s cock. 

“fuck yeah,” he laughs airily as you keep cumming around him. fuck you must be squeezing him so tightly you can feel him, “there it is love. love seeing you like that.”

he presses a kiss to your jaw before pressing one to your lips. “love that its me doing this to you. gonna see how many you can give me before i cum in this sweet pussy okay? wanna see all the ways i can get you to cum. keeping such a sweet little thing from me love.”

all you can do is nod. he’ll be relieving your stress for sure.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: All week long, you and Everett were enjoying some quality time with Bradley. The Tiny Eagles were still undefeated, and you were starting to think about how nice it would be if Bradley moved in with the two of you. But on Sunday, when Danny is supposed to be spending the day with Everett, you get an upsetting call.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

The further your week progressed, the more loved up you were feeling. After practice on Monday, you watched Bradley carry Ev up to the parking lot on his shoulders while they sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame. 

On Tuesday, Bradley came over for dinner. He helped you cook, and then he helped Everett do his homework while you lounged on the couch with a glass of wine. 

On Wednesday, you and he had a quickie on the stairs after Everett was in bed. That was something you had never done before, but also something you definitely wanted to do again. 

But on Thursday, a rare thunderstorm moved in, and Bob decided to cancel practice. "Want to come over and watch a movie instead?" you asked Bradley when he called. 

He scoffed and asked, "Are the Phillies the best team in baseball?"

You laughed as you looked outside at the dark sky and pouring rain. "That's definitely a yes."

"That's a hell yes, Kitten. I'll be there soon."

When he arrived, Everett opened the door for him and said, "We're going to watch Toy Story!"

Bradley tousled Everett's hair and laughed as he removed his wet baseball cap and jacket. "How did you know that's my favorite movie?"

Everett's eyes went wide. "Is it really your favorite?"

"Top ten, easily," Bradley replied, and as he made his way into your living room, he pulled you in for a kiss. His mustache was wet from the rain, and you had to reel in your need for him in front of Everett.

"I'll make popcorn," you whispered, and when you returned with it, they were both already cozy on the couch. 

"Ready?" Everett asked as he held up the remote. 

"Yep," you replied, eating some popcorn before you passed it to Everett where he was perched between the two of you. And you had to laugh, because apparently Bradley hadn't been lying. He had most of Toy Story memorized, and the two of them kept quoting parts together and laughing. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Bradley asked, tossing some popcorn at you. "This movie came out when I was like eleven. I was obsessed with it."

"You are adorable," you replied, catching some of the popcorn in your mouth when he threw more at you. 

He just sat there looking smug for a bit, and then when the part came on that always scared Everett, Bradley let him cuddle up against his side. "It's okay. The ending is happy," Bradley murmured, and you took the empty bowl so he could rub Everett's back. 

"I know," he whispered. "But getting to the end is scary."

Bradley met your eyes, and you wanted to say something while Woody was about to get blown up by dynamite. But nothing seemed adequate. Everett was going to be spending the day with Danny on Sunday while you and Molly went wine tasting a few towns away. But you just had a feeling that Everett was going to come home upset or maybe even in tears, and it hurt your heart. But you didn't know what else to do. You just wished Danny cared about Everett even just a fraction of the amount that Bradley obviously did.

"Scary parts over," Bradley whispered, and you realized that Everett had been hiding his eyes. "Almost time for the happy ending."

"That's the best part," Everett said, once again vividly interested in the movie. He sat perched on the edge of the couch with rapt attention.

You swallowed your guilt down and let yourself enjoy the rest of the movie as Bradley's hand found yours along the couch. 

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

Bradley carried Everett upstairs by his ankles, letting him dangle in the air while he absolutely screeched with delight. When Bradley set him down on his bed, Everett said, "That was so cool!"

"That was your reward for not getting too scared by the movie. And for helping your mom clean up all the popcorn we threw at her."

Everett laughed more before he stood to go brush his teeth. "Hey, Bradley?"

"Yeah, Kiddo?" 

"I like it when you're at our house. Do you have a house?"

Bradley smiled and said, "No. I have an apartment. And it's not as good as your house, because your mom doesn't live there. And you don't live there."

Everett looked at him very seriously before he walked to the bathroom. "We have an extra bedroom. You should move in here. And you could bring the rest of your baseball cards and stuff with you."

Bradley pressed his lips together and tried not to laugh. "Something to consider, I guess."

Once Everett was in bed, Bradley went back downstairs where he had left you relaxing on the couch. "Come here, Coach," you said softly as you lifted up the end of the blanket for him. He slipped underneath it next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled his hips. "I was just listening to the storm."

Bradley sighed and ran his hands along your thighs to your butt as you kissed his cheek and let your fingers sink into his hair. "Thanks for inviting me over for the movie."

"Well, Everett insisted. And I had no idea you were such a Toy Story fan," you said with a giggle that made him feel a little weak. 

"I used to watch it with my mom all the time. She liked it, too," he whispered as your lips found his neck. "You're a good mom, Kitten." You paused and looked at him, and Bradley was suddenly trying to figure out what he did wrong. 

"Everett is spending the day with his dad on Sunday."

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "Danny? He made Everett cry. That's all I can associate with him. The fact that he made Everett cry and he wasn't good to you."

You swallowed hard and hid your face against his shoulder. "Maybe I'm not a good mom. I keep trying to give him a chance, and he just doesn't seem to take it."

"Shhh," Bradley whispered, coaxing you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. "That's just because you care so much. You want Everett to have everything. Even if it's hard for you."

You sniffed and kissed him as you said, "I love you." Then Bradley carried you up to bed after you fell asleep.

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

The weather in San Diego was never bad for long, so Friday evening, you agreed to a date with Bradley. A date for the three of you.

"Somehow I ended up being the one left out here," you complained with a smile as Bradley held your hand and just shook his head at you. He had taken you and Everett to the flea market near the beach to look for baseball cards.

"If you stop whining, I'll buy you a three dollar burger, Kitten."

"Oh!" you said perking up and helping them look through the tables of cards. That damn burger had been delicious when he bought you one last time. "What am I looking for?"

"Phillies players," Bradley and Everett mumbled in unison, and your heart clenched. Then you pulled a card out of one of the boxes and held it up, and Bradley's eyes went wide. 

"Don't set that one down," he said, kissing you hard on the lips. "I've been looking for that one."

After he had purchased a few cards, including a novelty Phanatic card for Everett, he took you both for burgers and fries. "It's getting a little late," Bradley said as he checked the time on his phone. "Think we have time for the batting cages?"

Everett gasped so loudly, and the smile on Bradley's face had your heart pounding. "Yeah," you replied. "I think we have time." Because now there was no way you could deny either of them. 

Bradley took both of you back to the location of your date. That date that he insisted wasn't your first date but was instead your third date, because he counted the snack bar and park outing as real dates. Then he got you and Everett outfitted in helmets and helped you pick out bats. He took the care and time to teach Everett how everything worked, just like he had done for you. 

"Safety first," Bradley said, kneeling in front of Everett. "Keep your helmet on, and don't stand directly in front of the machine. Got it?"

"Got it, Coach!" Everett nearly shouted, practically vibrating with excitement. And then you watched from the corner of the cage with amazement as Bradley started the machine. By the third pitch, Everett was hitting every ball, and some of them looked like they were hit well.

"Yes!" Bradley cheered. "Now move your right foot back a bit. Right there. Watch for the pitch."

He was good. Much better than you had been. And he only needed minimal help from Bradley. You watched your son hit dozens of pitches while you took some photos and videos. And when he turned to look at you while you were recording him, he looked absolutely delighted.

"You're up, Kitten," Bradley said, turning off the machine and reaching for you.

Everett came over and pushed you into place when you protested. "I'm not as good as the two of you!"

"You just have to practice," Bradley murmured, bending to kiss you before he handed you a bat. "Remember how to stand?''

"I think so," you replied, but his hands were already on your hips and waist, gently but firmly getting you into the proper position. He let them linger. You wanted to do this every Friday night. He squeezed you with both of his big hands, and then he turned the machine on. 

You managed to hit a few of the pitches while Everett cheered for you. "Mommy! You're good!"

"Thanks, Ev," you said with a laugh. But after a dozen pitches, you said, "Come on, Coach, show us how it's done."

"Yeah! Please, Coach?"

With a soft groan, Bradley took your bat from your hands and kissed your cheek. And when you stood in the corner with Everett, you realized that this was the first time your son ever got to see Bradley batting. And it was just as impressive as the last time you were here. With the speed set to high, Bradley hit every single pitch like a pro. Dozens of pitches flew up into the mesh, but they looked like home runs to you. 

You couldn't take your eyes off him, and neither could Everett. He stood in front of you with your hands on his shoulders, completely transfixed. "Wow," Everett muttered. 

"He's good," you whispered as Bradley nailed another hard pitch with ease. When he turned the machine off, both of you were still gaping at him. "You better play in that summer league, Bradley."

His smile as he swung the bat over his shoulder made your insides melt.

"You have to!" Everett said, jumping up and down. "And you can pitch and Coach Bob can play in the outfield. And Mommy and I can watch and we can keep your stats if you teach us how."

When Bradley responded to your son by putting his hand gently on Everett's shoulder and guiding him out of the chainlink cage, you were prepared to beg him to play in the summer league. But then he said, "I already sent in my application, Kiddo."

"Why didn't you tell us?" you asked as he held the gate open for you. 

"I haven't been selected yet. But I think they'll call me to try out." 

"They'll pick you! They have to!" Everett insisted. And you could picture it so clearly: sitting on the bleachers at the Navy ballpark, you and Ev wearing matching Bradshaw shirts with Molly in a Floyd shirt. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you just wanted that more and more. 

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

"I think he's asleep," you mumbled against Bradley's lips, grinding down on his thigh on the couch. Bradley had collected you into his lap to talk after Everett was in bed, but he wasn't mad about where you decided to take things instead. "But we should go out to your Bronco just in case." 

Without a word, Bradley hauled you to your feet and practically dragged you out to your driveway in the darkness. "You can get a little loud out here, Kitten." He opened the back door and helped you climb in, and you were peeling your shirt off before he even had the door closed behind him. "Up here," he coaxed, rubbing his thigh, and you were on him immediately.

"You should sleep over tonight," you groaned as Bradley tossed your bra across the seat and put his mouth on your tits. 

"Mmhmm," he hummed against you. "Just need to leave early before the game to go get my stuff."

"Would be easier if your stuff was here." 

He paused, popping your nipple out of his mouth, but you were already so far gone, you were guiding his mouth back into place. He got you completely naked while he stayed mostly clothed, and you rode his dick nice and slow. You put on a real show for him, your hands touching yourself everywhere as your eyes went hazy. 

"You're so fucking pretty," he growled when your fingers dug into his hair as you rode out your orgam with your head tipped back. "Jesus, Kitten." He sucked on your tits until your cries quieted, and then he stretched you out on the seat with your back against the soft leather. 

You pulled him down for more kisses while he fucked you into the seat. When he came, it was to your voice softly telling him that you loved him. His fingers tangled up in your necklace chain as you pulled his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. "I love you, Bradley."

He kissed your collarbone and let his hand settle against your belly. "I love you. And I love your son." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight.

When he finally got you clothed enough for you to walk back inside, Bradley set an early alarm on his phone and then took you up to your bedroom. While you got changed, he checked on Everett, lingering in the doorway while his tiny body rose and fell with each breath. Today was another perfect day. 

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

After the game on Saturday, the whole team was buzzing. "One more game to go, and still undefeated!" Everett said as he hugged you afterwards. He and Piper had both scored in the last inning to win the game for the Tiny Eagles, and now you almost lost your voice from cheering. 

"Her kid does well, because the coaches give her special treatment," Sandra said. But you just ignored it because not only was Everett a better player than Henry, but you were actually dating Bradley now. You didn't want to start a fuss. 

When Bradley and Bob were finished talking to the other team's coaches, they both came over. "I was hoping Mo would be here today," Bob told you, still glancing up at the parking lot.

"Mo?" you asked, gaping at Bob. "That's the cutest thing I have ever heard! I think Mo stayed to work some overtime this morning."

Bob blushed a deep pink while Bradley chased Everett to try to get his clipboard back. They ran around the bleachers laughing while Bob said, "I'm going to ask her to move in with me, even though it's moving really fast. But I think she's going to say no, because of her work hours."

"There's no harm in asking," you replied, making a mental note to tell Molly she better move in with Bob or else.

He looked at the ground. "We haven't really talked about that kind of stuff yet or my deployments. Do you think... If I get deployed for six months, is she going to break up with me?"

You burst out laughing so hard, he looked like he was going to cry. Meanwhile your little sister had asked you the other day if you thought Molly Floyd sounded cute. And when you told her it sounded adorable, she said she really wanted her initials to be MF which made you both giggle. 

You managed to reel in your laughter. "No, Bob. I don't think she would break up with you, even if you were gone for a year." You patted his cheek gently, and he finally looked like he believed you. 

"You're too fast, Ev," Bradley called, chasing after him and panting. "Shit, I'm actually worn out. That kid is fast as hell." 

"He needs to play real ball next year," said Bob as the flushed pink color started to fade from his cheeks. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna work with him this summer," replied Bradley nonchalantly as Everett finally ran back over with his clipboard. And the casual way with which Bradley talked about the future made you smile. 

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

"I don't want to go!"

Everett was practically in tears the next morning when you packed up some snacks and his ipad in his backpack. And honestly, you were barely holding back your own tears. 

"It's just for the day, Ev. And your dad is excited to see you!"

"No, he's not," he whispered, kicking his shoes across the living room and running back upstairs. 

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the feeling of panic rose inside you. But you were doing the right thing, weren't you? Spending time with his dad should have been beneficial to everyone. You just needed Danny to get used to this or alternately pay child support. And since there was no way he was going to be paying you anything, this would just have to do. He'd come around after a while. Maybe you'd even eventually work up to some sleepovers for Everett. 

"Ev, Sweetie, I'll be back around dinner time. I promise," you called. And a second later, his head poked around the wall at the top of the stairs. 

"You better," he whispered and stormed down the stairs with a scowl on his face. 

When you got him in your car, he was silent for the entire drive across town to Mission Beach and Danny's townhouse. For someone who couldn't pay child support, his neighborhood was a lot nicer than yours. You sighed and looked at Everett in your rearview mirror after you parked, and he was still scowling. 

"You can play on your ipad," you reminded him. "And maybe your dad will let you use some of his paints like last time."

"That was months ago," Everett mumbled. "And he got mad when I spilled some on the kitchen counter."

You pressed your lips together and thought about calling your sister to cancel the outing and going back home instead. But then Danny opened his front door and looked at you expectantly. 

"Okay, there he is," you said brightly, and when you walked Everett up the sidewalk, you felt a little better.

"Hi," you called out to Danny as he opened the door wider for Everett to slink past him. 

"What time will you be back?" he asked, not bothering to greet either one of you.

You just shook your head and swallowed your guilt. "Around five."

He gave you a severely annoyed look and then mumbled goodbye as you called out, "Have fun, Ev!" And then the door was closed and you walked slowly back to your car. 

When you picked up Molly, she rambled on about Bob and work, and you were thankful that you didn't have to say much. The wine tasting was a treat from Bob, and since he wasn't a big drinker, he told Molly to take you.

"He's such a sweetheart, Mo," you said with a chuckle. 

"He's not always sweet in bed," she replied, looking out her window with a smile.

"Oh my God, Molly," you said, smacking her arm as you headed out of the city and toward the vineyard. "Please don't elaborate. I like being able to look him in the eye."

"All I'm saying is Coach Cute Glasses has got moves. And a bit of a dirty mouth."

"Please stop," you mumbled, seriously ready to blast the radio if she kept going.

"Okay, fine. I'll stop. But just know, he's so much bigger than Casey was."

"Molly!" you screeched as she cackled. When you threatened to leave her on the side of the road, she finally changed the subject to Everett's birthday and the Padres game. And she asked you how things were going with Bradley, and you thought about mentioning the backseat sex as revenge for being told too much about Bob, but you didn't. And then you had reached the vineyard. 

After a tour, the two of you tasted every wine that was offered, and then you argued for a long time while you put them in order of favorite to least favorite.

"This red one was disgusting," Molly told you, moving one that you liked to last place. "You have questionable taste."

"No, I don't!" you complained. 

"Two words: Danny. Frank." She kept rearranging the wines in her preferred order while you scoffed. 

"Thank you for not grouping Bradley with them."

"No. He's alright now," she said, sounding more impressed. "God, he was dumb for a bit there, but he sorted himself out. And it was fun to make him sweat about losing you and Ev."

"Fun?" you asked. "That was not fun."

She shrugged and ordered two sangrias. "It was kind of fun for me," she said apologetically. "Plus it let me know he really cares about you."

"I might ask him to move in with me and Ev soon," you blurted out. And now you were thinking about what Bob told you. And you started rambling about something that happened at work, and you realized you'd already had a lot to drink.

"Let's order food," Molly suggested. And you sat outside in the sun with your sangrias and your lunch and got very tipsy. 

Molly took about a million selfies of the two of you, and when you saw one that actually looked cute, you said, "Send me that one. I want to text it to Bradley."

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think I've been texting them to this whole time?"

"Bob?" you replied as your waiter dropped off more drinks.

"And Bradley," she said with a smirk. You took her phone from her hand and looked at the thread she had with him. 

"Oh my goodness," you whispered. She had sent your boyfriend about a dozen photos of you in varying degrees of ridiculousness. "What is wrong with you?"

"Look what he said!" Molly urged, moving her phone closer to your face.

Your sister is gorgeous. 

I miss her, do you know what time you're heading back? 

Everett looks so much like her, what a lucky kid. 

You handed the phone back to her and pretended to melt off of your chair while she laughed. "You're drunk!" she accused. 

"Yeah, so what?" you asked as you laughed at her. 

"I love it!" she chanted. "You never do this kind of stuff with me!"

You groaned. "Gotta always be alert for Ev," you mumbled, checking the time on your phone. You'd have to wait a bit before you could drive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Molly said. "But if Bradley moves in with you, he'd be around so we could go do fun stuff like this."

"That's true," you told her as you stared up at the passing clouds. Then your phone rang and when you reached for it, your heart sank.

You accepted the facetime call from Everett's ipad. "Ev?"

"Mommy?"

"Yeah! I'm here. Are you having fun?" Molly helped you block the afternoon sun so you could see the screen more clearly. And then you saw his face. "What's wrong?"

He looked to his right and then turned back toward the screen, his sweet little forehead scrunched with worry. "Are you coming to get me soon?"

You could feel the wine coursing through your body, and now you wanted to throw up. "Pretty soon. Is something wrong, Everett?"

"I don't know."

"Where is your dad?" you asked him, scooting to the edge of your seat.

"In his room with Tori."

Your eyes went wide. "Who is Tori?" you asked at the same time as Molly.

Everett kind of shrugged. "She got here a little while ago. She said she was his girlfriend."

"What the fuck?" Molly muttered, reaching for her water glass, and then she immediately started drinking. You were too drunk to drive, and so was she. And you weren't even in the city anyway.

"Are you okay, Ev? Can you sit on the couch and play more games? The charger should be in your backpack if you need it."

But he still looked nervous.

"Just tell me what's wrong," you prompted as your heart pounded. 

"Well, it smells weird in here now. It smells gross."

You froze and looked at Molly who looked like she was going to rage. Danny was smoking pot with his presumably barely legal girlfriend while he was supposed to be spending the day with his son. Now you really were going to throw up as you stood and walked out toward the vineyard, afraid you were going to have a panic attack. 

"Just sit on the couch, okay? I'll come get you as soon as I can." But that would be hours from now. Your hands started to shake as Molly ran up behind you with two glasses of water. 

"I just paid for everything, but we need to sober up," she said. 

You took one glass from her and sobbed as you asked for her phone. "Here, talk to Ev, okay?" 

She nodded and traded phones with you and started to ask her nephew a series of riddles. When you called Bradley from Molly's phone, he answered on the third ring. 

"Hey, Molly. You two having fun?"

"Bradley!" 

"Kitten? What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath to keep from crying. "I need your help."

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

If Everett cries again, so help me..... Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 20

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[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The All-Star Game

Batter Up Chapter 5

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: This is not how Joel wanted to spend his All-Star Game, at least you make the best of it for him. Warnings: smut, fluff, family dynamics, nurse/patient roleplay in the shower, oral (m receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (reader has a previously discussed IUD... be safe), a doctor mistakes reader for Joel's wife. Words: 4,900

A/N: Been fighting writer's block, twelve hour work days, and total brain fry. Thank you for being so patient with my lack of updating folks. Not gonna lie, I read through my first piece Golden Walkway earlier and was like "how TF is my first ever ff/smut piece that good?!" while I'm absolutely banging my head against the keyboard trying to write out four sentences tonight. The biggest shout out to @frannyzooey for filling my Google Doc with notes and simplifying my gobbledegook. I absolutely do not feel worthy of your kindness. *insert Wayne's World not worthy GIF*

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 1 Travel Day For All-Stars

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off

“God damnit,” Joel growls. “Why do I always forget that that’s your damn alarm?”

“Mmph, it works. Wakes me up.” You sit up and stretch before reaching to pick up your phone.

The same phone you stared at while willing yourself to sleep, attempting to ignore the circling "what ifs" of the dreaded conversation you knew you had to have with your parents, only able to do so after focusing on the soothing sound of Joel's breathing.

You get up, slip on his shirt and crack open the curtains letting the morning sun peek in. 

“Guess I should look at my phone, hm?” Joel slowly sits up and settles his back on the pillows while you readjust, his big brown eyes disappearing behind the tired crinkles that line the sides as he lets out a rumbly yawn.

“Might be a good idea, I’m sure Sarah wants to talk with you.” Running a hand through his sleep tousled hair, you give him a kiss.

“Called her on the way home yesterday, let her know not to worry and that I’d be fine without her.” He sighs. “I think she knows I have somebody.”

“Hm. I didn’t want to get into it this soon, but I’m going to have to talk to my mom at least. She knows I’m here in Philly and I didn’t get on my flight.”

“Well, shit,” he grimaces. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good. I texted her saying I’m fine and I’d talk to her tomorrow. Just nervous, but at this point, there’s no going back…they were already going to find out today. So instead of doing it in person, I’m just going to have to do it over the phone.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” His hand grabs yours and squeezes it.

“We will, I just want to have a nice morning with you, I'll deal with them after lunch.”

“But first, coffee?”

“But first, coffee.”

——

“Well, here goes,” you dial your mom’s number and hit the green phone circle. She picks up after two rings. Crap.

“Hey mom,” you nervously swallow, trying to sound chipper. Joel’s hand soothingly pets your back, grounding you. 

“Hi sweetie, what’s happening? Your dad and I are very confused.”

“Yeah, um about that, is dad with you?”

“He is… is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is good. Um, could you put me on speaker?” You haven’t had to feel this level of nervousness with your parents in almost twenty years. 

“Hi Duck, what’s going on?” Your dad calls you by your nickname, so he’s not mad… yet. “Was looking forward to seeing you, I don’t know why you’re not here. Mom and I didn’t hear from you, so she checked your location last night and you’re in Philadelphia? Not New York, not the airport, not Texas, but Philadelphia, why is that? We were worried, Duck.”

“I know, I’m sorry about that. So, things got… complicated. I was packing for the airport and was watching the Liberties game when, um, Joel got hurt.” You exhale, trying to calm yourself by focusing on the feel of Joel’s hand on your skin. “I, uh, drove down to help take care of him because, um, he and I have been, together since, well, November.” You breathe out the latter word, hoping your quiet breath will hide the shame in keeping Joel a secret for that long, for not respecting your parents and your own relationship. You feel so small, so fragile, so young, confessing to your mom and dad like you’re in trouble. 

“November?” The only word your mom responds with. Your dad stays quiet, and you’re reminded of why you wanted to do this over the phone. So you wouldn’t see their expressions. Although, maybe if they were here, they would be able to see the way Joel looks at you, how happy you are, how perfect he is for you.  

“Yes, um, remember when I flew in for your birthday? We ran into each other, and I don’t know, it just worked out. I know this is a lot.” 

Joel’s hand lands on your shoulder, tugging you back to lay against him, his arm wrapping around your chest as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.  You love him so much, you let a tear slip out as you wait for any sort of validation. 

“So, you and Joel Miller have been together for, what, nine months? And we’re only finding out about it now?” You try to gauge your dad’s voice, sensing disappointment, praying it’s not anger. “Is it because you got caught at his place? When were you going to tell us?” 

Okay, there’s anger. 

“Tonight actually, um, Joel and I were going to tell you tonight at dinner. I’m really sorry and I know this is complicated because there’s a bit of history between him and you, but daddy, I love him.”

“Bit of history?” he replies, incredulous. “He was my star player for twenty years, he was rude to the media, coaches, and reporters and I always had to pick up that mess. He was great on the field and in the clubhouse, but he was a pain in my ass most of the time, and now you’re telling me you’re in love with him… and have been for almost a year?”

You bite your lip as you will the tears away from your eyes. You’re so thankful for Joel’s touch right now. He’s respecting you, but you can tell by his breathing growing louder and quicker that hearing your dad’s raised voice is upsetting him. Maybe it’s better to be not in person, that way Joel doesn’t run the risk of throwing your dad through a wall. 

“Yes,” you croak out. You feel like a child answering him. Eyes downcast, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“And all of a sudden, right after he’s no longer on my team, he’s your boyfriend?”

“I’m sorry dad, it’s not something we planned on, it just… happened and I know you’re mad and I’m sorry that it took this long for you to find out and I’m sor—“

“Sweetie,” your mom’s voice breaks through your anxious words, “are you happy?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, Joel’s arm squeezes you tighter, “incredibly.”

“Well, that’s all we want for you. If it’s with Joel, then we’re good, right?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief at her words, her acceptance, her demand of your dad to recenter himself and his ire. You turn to look at Joel and see tears sitting in the waterline of his eyes that are focused on you. He gives you a small smile. 

How could you not love this man? How could anybody doubt the power of what you two share?

“That is what we want for you, but I am concerned. People will have questions. Joel is a part of this team’s history and now my daughter is dating him.”

“I understand that.”

“I know you do, Duck. You can make your own decisions, you haven’t lived under our rules for a very long time. I trust you. As long as you are happy and you understand that there will be roadblocks up ahead with the public eye, then I can be on board. People talk, the internet talks and you’re signing yourself up for a lot of people talking about you. I know you realize that, but does Miller?”

“I do, sir,” Joel says, the first words spoken from him, with the “sir” sternly emphasized. “Look, I don’t care what anybody has to say, people’s opinions never mattered to me. I know you’re well aware of that. I love your daughter. She has been with me every step of the way since I learned I was no longer a Capital. I apologize that this is all at once ’n that this is how you’re finding out, but I do not apologize for the way I feel about your daughter. I love her.”

You watch Joel’s lips as he speaks his confession to your parents, wondering how you could be so lucky to have found him and to have his heart the way that you do.  

“Listen, I know you two are smart, and Miller, you know at the end of the day I respect the hell out of you. If my daughter is happy, that’s all I can hope for as her father. As much as I worry about her, I know she can make her own decisions.” 

“As a father to a college student now, I understand that sir. You have my word that I will stop at nothing to keep your daughter happy.” 

“We know that Joel,” your mom’s soft voice soothes the conversation. “I just wish we would have known about this sooner. I’m a bit upset that it took you long enough to let us know. We just want you to be aware of what issues might arise for you two.”

“Whatever happens, it’s just white noise to us. It’s my choice—it’s our choice,” you say. “We’ve talked about everything before, we are fully aware.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do Duck, Mom can’t tell you what to do. Miller’s a good man, underneath it all, I know that. If you are happy with him, then we are happy for you.”

“This is the happiest I’ve been.”

“We’re glad sweetheart, so glad,” your mom chokes out. At least they’re happy tears. “We’ll be here for you, always. I guess we won’t see you this week.”

“No, Joel needs me, I don’t want to leave him.” 

“Alright then, feel better Miller, we love you Duck,” your dad’s voice softens. “Take care and keep us updated, okay?”

“Thank you sir,” Joel respectfully responds.

“I will. Love you guys, bye.” You end the call and let out a big sigh of relief. 

One down, two more to go. 

“I’m proud of you baby,” Joel breathes out against your hair.

“Heh, thanks. I think?”

“I know you were nervous.”

“Oh, yeah. Still kinda dumb how I’m intimidated by them but… I think it all worked out in the end.”

“It did baby. Why does your dad call you Duck?”

“It’s short for duck snort.”

“...Like the baseball term?”

“Yep, I used to be a crazy toddler and thought my parents chasing me was funny. One day my dad called me a duck snort because I’d always get away and ‘win’, and it kinda stuck.”

He smiles, stroking your cheek. “That’s so fucking cute. ”

“Speaking of daughters, when are you going to tell Sarah?” 

“Later. I’m all phoned out for the time being, want to rest my back and take a nap. That one was a little tense.”

“A nap sounds amazing,” you stretch and adjust to put your head on Joel’s chest, your favorite pillow.

——

“Joel,” you blink your eyes open, “the sun’s going down. I think we overslept.”

“Mm, I’m up. Been up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You’ve had a long couple of days, wanted to let you sleep.”

“You’re due for your pills,” you yawn, getting up.

“I am.”

He winces as you hand him his medicine and glass of water. 

“You alright?” 

“Been better, just really hurts right now. Plus, I should call Sarah before it gets too late. I just texted Tommy and told him.”

“Oh?” You turn on Joel’s heating pad and hand him the remote.

“Yeah, he texted me and asked me how I was getting along and if my nurse was hot. Told him about everything. He was happy for me and congratulated me on my hot nurse.”

“He’s ridiculous,” you shake your head. “I’m going to go make dinner, I’ll leave you to call Sarah.” You kiss the top of his forehead.

“Thanks baby.” 

——

You quietly step into Joel’s room holding a tray with his plate full of steak, rice and broccoli, Joel’s go to in season meal.

“Hey sweets, my dinner is here. I gotta go.”

“Can I—can I say hi to her?”

You smile at Sarah’s sweet voice as Joel looks past his phone to you. You nod and walk over placing the tray on Joel’s lap.

“Sure, here she is.”

Well, this is new. You’ve never been with anybody who has a child, let alone a college aged kid. You know Sarah, you love her, you used to chase her around the club box years ago. 

You grab the phone, she’s gotten so beautiful. Same brown eyes as her dad, deep dimples as she smiles, long curly hair. She’s a young woman now, just as gorgeous as her dad. 

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again.”

“Oh my god! Hi! It is! Wish it wasn’t through the phone but I, just, I wanted to say that, I-I am very happy that Dad finally found somebody and it’s you!”

“Well, I am too.”

“He told me you’re doing a better job than I ever would at taking care of him, so I don’t need to tell you to take good care of him.”

“I try,” you chuckle. 

“Thanks for saying hi to me, I’ll let you go, I know you have dinner!”

“Of course Sarah, any time. I’ll hand you back to your dad now.”

You keep your smile as you hand the phone back to Joel. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him this happy before, eyes alight with a large grin on his face. You never noticed how his dimple matches Sarah’s. 

Your shoulders feel lighter now that the most important people know, and accept, your love. 

The secret’s out. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 2 Home Run Derby

Greeting Doctor Arroyo with a smile, you leave him in the living room to wait. 

"Joel," you peek your head into the bedroom. "He's here."

"Send him in," he replies, sitting up higher.

Showing the doctor the way, he thanks you. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Miller."

You let out a little laugh. "Not the wife, just the girlfriend."

Giving you a small smile, he leaves you in the hallway with thoughts of being Mrs. Miller swirling in your head.

After the doctor leaves, you sit on the edge of the bed.

“So, what’d he say?” 

“Still stuck like this for the next few days. Wants me to do some stretches and move around more, going to check on me in two more days again. Said I’m recovering well, told him it’s because I have a good nurse.” 

“You do have a good nurse… that’s better news than I was expecting at least.”

“Yep, and he took the bandage off from my shot so I can finally take a shower.” 

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” his eyes darken, “but you’re gonna have to wash me, nurse.”

“I can do that, not only am I your nurse but I’m also your wife according to Dr. Arroyo.”

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” you wink. “I told him I’m your girlfriend.”

“Should’ve told him you’re not my wife… yet.”

“I’m happy with girlfriend right now Mr. Miller.”

“My sweet independent girl.” 

“Eh, your sweet independent nurse now. Come on, let’s get you washed Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am.”

——

Joel hobbles into the bathroom as you adjust the temperature of the shower. 

“It’s hot, too hot, just like you like it Mr. Miller.”

“God, I love it when you call me that. Now nurse,” he smirks, “come help me with my clothes.”

“Right away Mr. Miller,” you reply, sauntering over to him.

“What a pretty nurse you are, have a feeling you’re going to take REAL good care of me,” he raises his arms over his head as you lift his shirt up.

“I’ll sure try to take good care of you Mr. Miller. Did you want me to remove your shorts?”

“Yes nurse.”

You lean forward, grabbing the waistband of his pants to lower them down, running your gaze appreciatively over his half-hard cock.

You look up and angle your eyebrow at him. “I can see you’re quite excited for your shower Mr. Miller.”

“Mm.” 

“Go ahead and get in, it’s all ready for you.” 

“But you’re not. Take your clothes off.”

“Now, Mr. Miller, I can’t get naked for you, but I can take this off.” You slip the straps of your dress down your arms and shimmy out of it, leaving only your white cotton bra and underwear on. “You know, gotta stay decent while taking care of my patient.”

He hums in appreciation, taking in the sight. Turning, he steps into the shower with a groan of contentment.

“Feel good?” You ask grabbing a wash cloth. 

“Very.”

He leans forward, placing his arms on the wall and stretches his back as the water hits his skin. Water trickles down the deep plains of his spine, the strong muscles of his back gleaming under the sheen of water. You follow the river that falls from his neck, down his back bone, past the two lower back dimples you love, past the slight curve of his behind and down his hairy legs. He is all man… your man. It’s a shame all the water that lands across his body is wasted on the drain. 

“Is the temperature good?”

“S’perfect,” he grunts.

“Want me to scrub you sir?”

“Heh,” he turns his head to look at you, “with a nurse that looks like you? ‘Course I do.”

The drops of water sear your skin as you step into the water.

“Jesus Joel, it’s hot in here.”

“Mm,” he reaches over and turns the water cooler before turning around, his eyes darkening as he notices the fabric of your bra cups has turned see-through. “Better?” His eyes stay on your chest.

“Better. Now, let’s get you washed, sir.”

“I’m all yours.” 

You grab Joel’s bar of soap, lathering your hands up with the eucalyptus scented bar. Your hands run across his chest leaving lines of suds along his skin, and he lets out a small groan as you rub soapy circles over his stomach. 

He reaches a hand up and pinches your nipple underneath the sheer wet fabric. 

“Feel good sir?”

“Very. Such a good nurse.”

You step closer to him, his hard cock jutting against your stomach as you wash his arms. Your fingers press tight along his biceps and his shoulders, releasing the tension.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes out, “you’re driving me crazy like this.” 

“Well, get ready, I need to wash your legs and…” you wrap your hand around his erection, “this… sir.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans and shakes his head. “Go ahead nurse.”

You reach around him and grab the soap before kneeling on the tile floor. 

Your soapy hands glide along Joel’s legs, his calf muscles firm under your touch, his thighs soft as you move closer to Joel’s hard cock dripping water and precum. You move your hands along the back of his thighs, cradling the bottom of his ass cheeks before pushing him forward and sealing your mouth over his cock. 

“CHRIST!” Joel’s shout echoes across the bathroom, his hands splaying against the glass.  

Pulling back, you look up.

“You alright? Is this too much?”

“No, no sweetheart,” his eyes soften as he reaches down and holds your cheek, “it felt really good. Go on baby,” Joel leans against the shower wall, “prove to me I’m your favorite patient.”

A long groan escapes Joel’s mouth as you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. You take him deeper in, sucking the water off of his length as he grabs a handful of your wet hair, your mouth slurping along his length. You clench your thighs together as you feel your cunt throb with arousal.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he chants. 

Water dripping off of Joel’s skin pelts your face as he fills your mouth, your nose brushing against the coarse hair of him there, his cock repeatedly brushing the back of your throat causing a string of saliva to drool out of your mouth.

“Touch yourself, touch your pussy while you suck me baby.”

Your hand reaches underneath your soaked cotton panties, your fingers ghosting across your swollen clit. You moan as you press down and swirl around the bundle of nerves.

His hips jut forward when you hollow your cheeks around him sucking as you bob your head along his length, your free hand cradling his balls and massaging the soft skin of them, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm.

“So good baby, fucking hell,” his grip on your hair tightens, “going to give you my cum soon if you keep that up.” 

Your eyes look up to him, he tilts his head down and gives you a blissed out half smile, water cascades down his face and falls onto your skin. The way he looks at you, the line on his forearm straining as he holds your hair, his warm cock stretching your mouth open, the feel of water dripping down your throat mixed with the taste of Joel. The sensation is too much, you whimper around Joel’s cock as you orgasm. Your fingers drown with your arousal, your mouth goes slack around him as warmth spreads through your limbs. Your hand collects the hot slick that leaks out of you, spreading it all over Joel’s shaft, pumping him with your fist as you suck the tip of him. 

“Close,” he pants, “lemme cum in that mouth, wanna see your mouth filled with me.” 

You nod and moan as you tighten your grip and suck harder.

He chants your name as he empties his release into your open mouth, the last spurt of him landing on your outstretched tongue.

He untangles his hand from your hair, running it down your face to grab your chin and angle it up.

“Swallow it baby.” 

His blown out brown eyes watch in worshiping awe as you seal your mouth shut and gulp down the salty taste of him before licking your lips. 

“All good Mr. Miller?”

“Quite… best nurse I ever had.” 

—-

“He reminds me of you,” you muse, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl as you and Joel watch the Austin Capitals’ rookie phenom James Neal hit ball after ball over the fence of Capitals Stadium. 

“He better. He’s my replacement.” Joel grumbles. 

“How do you feel about not being there?” 

“Tonight isn’t as bad, I always hated the Derby, having to sit on the field and play nice with the cameras. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“I know it will, I’m sorry this is happening to you. You deserve everything this season. I know everything hasn’t gone the way you’ve wanted but I couldn’t be prouder of how you’ve handled it.”

“Don’t think I’d be able to do it without you baby,” he kisses the top of your head as James Neal hits his twentieth home run over the fence. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 3 The All-Star Game

And the first pitch of the sixth inning is a strike. Scott steps back into the box, swings… and a miss. Strike two. Bridges winds up, and Scott hits a ground ball to first and—OH! Reynolds misreads it and it gets past him, two runs score. The American League now leads by two in the sixth! 

“I would’ve caught that,” Joel bitterly says. 

“I know you would’ve All-Star,” you console, leaning against him and wrapping an arm around him. 

“Mmf, you can’t lay on me like that.” 

“Sorry, does it hurt?”

“No, not even close. Just… feels real good having you all naked and pressed up against me like that.”

“Sorry.”

Joel plants his hand against your back, keeping you from moving away. 

“Stay, I like it. If I was on that field right now I couldn’t feel you like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Your hand runs a trail down his shorts and grips the heft of him. “Definitely wouldn’t be able to feel this.”

“Definitely not,” he groans. 

“Definitely couldn’t pull your shorts down and touch you if you were playing right now.”

“No,” he grunts, lifting his hips up allowing you to remove his shorts. 

You wrap your hand around his half hard cock. “And surely, I couldn’t jerk you off if you were on that field.” 

“Fuck, no,” he grits, hardening under your touch.

“Did you want to watch the game in peace or do you want me to take care of you?” 

“Take care baby,” he kisses you, “fuck this game.”

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

Your body overheats as you slide down Joel, straddling his thick thighs, taking his cock in hand, rubbing it along your dripping cunt and slowly settling yourself on his length.

Joel’s lips part, his big brown eyes staring at you as a long moan leaves your mouth savoring the feel of his cock stretching you. 

“You feel so good,” his head thuds against the pillow. “I haven’t felt your pussy like this in forever. Fucking missed it.” 

Your hips rock back and forth still adjusting to the size of him as he grabs your tits and massages the weight of them in his calloused hands. 

“This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

You’re too blissed out to answer, too overwhelmed by the size of him. All you can muster is an isolated nod and whine arching your back while he pinches and pulls your nipples into peaks. 

“You gonna fuck me baby? You gonna fuck me like the All-Star I am? Come on baby, prove to me I’m your All-Star.”

You rise and fall on his cock, grinding your hips down each time he stuffs you full. 

“Look so good like this baby,” Joel juts his hips up “you’re the only fucking trophy I need.” 

You lean in as your thighs begin to tremble bringing his hand to your lips. Joel’s blown out pupils focus on your tongue as it traces the circles of his tattoo.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps. 

Your pussy clenches at his praise, Joel’s cock hits the sensitive spot you want to feel him the most. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you strangle my cock, cum for me baby,” Joel’s gravelly voice encourages as he pulls his hand from your mouth, tugging you down against his chest. 

Your cunt flutters around him as your orgasm shatters into you. Your mouth going slack, drool falling out and landing on Joel’s chest as you scream his name and writhe on top of him.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, fuck, you’re fucking gripping me baby, not going to last long like this.”

You summon as much energy as you can leaning forward to lick the golden skin of his neck as you grind your hips against his, your soaked pussy pumping his cock.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” he pants. “Gonna cum.” 

Joel lets out a long groan as his hips jerk up into you, warmth blooming through your core as his cock empties into you. You both stay frozen collectively catching your breaths as you come down from your shared bliss. His cock slips from you as you lift up to kiss him, both of your spends dribbling down between your thighs.

“Did I make you feel like the All-Star you are?”

“Mm,” he smiles, pulling away, ”I love being a baseball player sometimes.”

You turn towards the TV. “It’s tied now.” 

“Mm, for the first time ever, I really don’t care.”

You stay cuddled in his bed for the remainder of the game, today is definitely your favorite All-Star Game experience.

Well folks, that’ll do it for this year’s All-Star Game here in beautiful Austin, Texas. The National League wins in a 4-3 victory over the American League. We’ll see you next year. 

“Good game, I really enjoyed the sixth inning.”

“Guess it’s good we get home field advantage in the World Series,” Joel shrugs.

“Always thinking ahead.” “Always. Had a plan for a whole thing after the game but life had other plans. I, uh, grabbed this when I was changing earlier,” Joel opens his bedside table and pulls out a small gray suede box.

Your heart skips a beat at the implication of what it could be. There’s no way.

“It’s okay baby, don’t panic, it’s not that. Now that everybody knows, I want you to be able to wear me wherever you go.” 

He opens the box, a delicate gold necklace with a pendant of his number hangs from it.

“Joel,” you breathe out as tears prick your eyes, “it’s so… beautiful.”

“That first night I had the chain was the night I had you in the back of that club. I tried for so long to stay away from you, and yet you were always there, like some forbidden treasure I could never have… now we’re together and this is the happiest I’ve ever been.” Joel swipes the tears from your cheeks as they fall, “I love you so much sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” you smile as you take the box and remove the necklace. 

“Put it on baby, lemme see it.”

You clasp the necklace behind your neck and lower your arms. Joel pets the gold pendant against your skin. 

“Beautiful,” Joel whispers.

[nightwing-bootylicious]

Batfam as things I've found in my Snapchat memories

Cass: when I die, I want to be buried in the dirt without the coffin, under a tree sapling so my decomposing body can feed the earth, just like god intended.

Steph: so... without the peel?

Cass: yes, without the peel.

-

Alfred: oh, you're finally dating, master Tim? How nice. Was this an... online thing? I've heard that's possible these days.

Tim: oh good no-

Duke: yeah, he mail-ordered the guy in from Colombia.

-

Roy: yeah if you want I could cook us a Philly feese chake?

Jason: a... a what?

Roy: a Philly shreds steak?

Jason: oh my god you idiot--

-

Harper: who else brings their plushies to their tattoo appointments?

-

Damian: *points a ketchup bottle at Dick* I am holding you at ketchup point. Give me that sandwich, or there shall be dire consequences sir.

-

Babs: looking at these tiktok videos makes me wish I had a motorcycle girlfriend

Dick: I'm so sorry I can't be your motorcycle girlfriend.

-

Bruce: the phrase "don't throw penis cheerios at me" is not one I was prepared to hear today.

-

Duke: *choking while eating sweet tarts* of all the ways I imagined offing myself, this was not one of them-

-

Steph: hey, what up with this random cheese tray?

Alfred: oh, you know, master Bruce went to a eulogy this morning.

Steph: huh?

Alfred: *does not elaborate*

-

Dick: I accidentally swallowed a fruit loop ring whole and now I'm having an emotional crisis

[wexhappyxfew]

Paulina and Hambone 😭🙌

I need them 🙏

PAULI AND HAMBONE ARE SO SPECIAL TO ME!!!!!!! (you don't understand ive been itching to write them and just haven't had time and now i feel the need to write them so HERE IS A SNIPPET!!!!!!)

(i think we all need a little more howard 'hambone' hamilton in our lives, right?)

"What's that?" Hambone asked, nodding to the letter in her hand. Albeit, the letter was in fact more of a statement - a broad generalization, a solid 'goodbye', a 'no longer want to be seen with you', a rather heartfelt and truthful 'we're through'. She didn't know how else to put it, but it certainly was something she felt ready to discuss with someone quite yet - even the Silver Bullets crew - especially someone, like Hambone, that she'd just met. It was humiliating enough that she still was holding onto this letter like she was going back to home, to him, after all this. "Uh…." Paulina started, staring at the letter 'Dear Pauli' - still with that stupid nickname she'd asked him to quit calling her. That was reserved for her parents - not him. Especially not him. Especially now, after wanting to break this off. After everything. "A letter." she supplemented, folding it quickly between her calloused fingers, ignoring the bubble of emotion inside her as she looked upwards at Hambone again, sticking the crumpled letter in her pocket and smiling. Picking up her drink she nodded, took back a sip and sighed. "Not the best type of letter." she offered, watching his gaze as he carefully seemed to watch her back, "But. A letter. Can't complain." Hambone continued to sit there quietly for a moment, the ruckus and loud-mouthed cackles behind them mixing with the hum of music and glass clinks. It almost felt comical. None of the men owed the women anything - Birdie had told them she'd learned that the hard way. But going out of their way to bridge the gap? Paulina looked at Hambone again - perfectly gelled and styled hair (enough to match that of Douglass), those golden teeth, that….squirrel on his upper lip he called a mustache. Paulina stopped her train of thought. She'd just met the guy - he was that one Lieutenant's bombardier right? Brady? "I'm sorry," Hambone said quickly with a nod, fingers nervously tapping on the beer glass as he shook his head, shooting a smile on his face, "I shouldn't have asked. First impressions, amiright?" Paulina watched him, the corner of her lip perking upward. Emotion swelled in her thoughts, throughout her mind as she thought of first impressions. Meeting Dean, that first night together, all those promises, those broken words. Sitting in front of a bombardier from the Midwest with whom she'd just met, but almost felt more respected by than the person who had said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Swallowing she looked to Hambone again. "No, no, don't worry," she said, waving him off, offering a smile and twiddling her fingers together in her lap, "If you don't mind distracting me, I'd love to hear why you're called Hambone and not Handsome, huh?" Alright, that was pretty bad, but he had a face, that's all she could think. A chuckle escaped Hambone's lips as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as he sipped his drink, a grin riding his lips as she sat there, smirking. A little bold, a little punchy - if Dean were here she'd rub it in his face - look, a guy can talk to me without sounding like an asshole, is that so hard? "So curious to know, huh?" he asked her, before nodding, "Gotta name?" Paulina watched him, her eyes softening - she felt them soften - and nodded. "Paulina Stagliano. From Philly." she offered, "But my friends call me Pauli."

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 5 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you somewhat reluctantly join Spencer on his crusade whilst lying to all your friends.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - mentions of murders and vigilanteism, swearing.

WC - 4.2k

Chapter Five - Never Know

Your hands trembled at your sides as the elevator made its painfully slow ascent to the sixth floor. You felt a large knot in the pit of your stomach. Fear. The fear that your poker face wasn’t good enough. The worry that your team would see through your lies. The terror that if this went wrong Spencer would no doubt kill you. Why was there something sadistically exciting about that thought?

The elevator meandered up the floors, seemingly with all the time in the world. Your cell phone was in your breast pocket, open on a call to Spencer who was sitting in the Nissan a few blocks away from Quanitico. It felt like a led weight, heavy and imposing. You had to pull yourself together, there was no margin for error here. 

You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths as you moved between the fourth and fifth floor. You clenched and unclenched your hands, your brain willing them to stop shaking. This didn’t need to be as hard as you were making it out to be. All you had to do was walk into that office and do exactly what Spencer had told you. Don’t think too much about it, keep your head down and just stick to the plan. Get in and get out before anyone suspects something. 

The elevator finally halted as it reached the sixth floor. You focused all of your energy on the task at hand as the metal doors peeled open. You kept your eyes straight forward as you marched towards the glass doors that led to the bullpen. 

JJ, Luke and Matt were already at their desks, usually the members of the team that arrived earlier than the others. You trained your gaze on Emily’s office at the top of the stairs and started across the room. 

“Morning, conejito.” Luke called out as you passed by.

“Morning.” You replied stiffly. 

“Good weekend?” You heard JJ pipe up.

“Yes, thanks.” You kept walking. 

You felt the three sets of eyes follow you as you reached the stairs and headed up them, blinkered on Emily’s office door. You reached it and scalded yourself when you raised your hand to knock and saw it was still shaking. You pushed past it and tapped on the wood briefly before pushing the door open. 

Emily was sitting behind her desk with her head buried deep in a case file, one hand fiddling with a pen and the other wrapped around a mug of coffee. She looked up when she heard the door open and close. 

“Hey, good weekend?” She smiled at you, setting the pen down on the desk.

“Not bad.” You nodded, stepping further into the room. “We need to talk.”

Her smile faded into a frown as you walked over to her desk and stood on the other side of it. Sensing you didn’t plan to sit down, she got to her feet, concern written all over her face.

“I don’t think I like where this is heading.” She swallowed. 

“My mom is sick.” You decided to rip the bandaid off. You didn’t like using your family in this way but it was the best excuse. “My dad can’t cope with it on his own. My family needs me back in Philly.” 

Emily scrutinised you exactly how you expected her to, profiling you, trying to read between the lines. As Spencer had told you on the drive here, there was no reason for her not to believe you. It wasn’t a far-fetched concept that your mother could be ill and that your father needed help taking care of her. The only thing that could give away the lie was your actions. 

“Act sad but not devastated. Strong but with a hint of vulnerability. Say what you came to say and then get the hell out of there.” 

Spencer’s words swam around your brain while you waited for Emily to speak. Her gaze felt like it was boring into you, cutting you open and peering into your soul. It felt like a lifetime of standing there under her watchful gaze until she finally spoke. 

“You’re quitting?” She raised a sceptical eyebrow at you. 

“I know this is probably the worst possible time for this, especially after Spencer left and everything…” you trailed off, mentally chastising yourself for mentioning him. “My family needs me.” 

You slid your firearm which Spencer had returned to, out of your holster and removed your FBI credentials from your back pocket before placing them both on Emily’s desk. She looked between them and you a few times, blinking back her shock. 

“I’m so sorry.” You heard your voice crack. “I’m really, really sorry.” 

You started backing up towards the door while Emily still looked a little dumbfounded. Get in, get out. Don’t say anymore than you need to. 

As you reached the door you heard Emily clear her throat before she finally spoke. 

“We’re going to miss you.” She offered you a meek smile. 

“I’ll miss you too.” You replied and with that you slipped through the door and back into the bullpen. 

You walked straight over to Luke’s desk, sidling up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder. He glanced up at you with a smile but when he saw your expression it quickly faded. 

“Are you ok?” He pushed his chair back and stood up. 

You nodded your head towards the glass doors and motioned him wordlessly to follow you. He frowned to himself but fell in step with you towards the doors. Once outside and in the hallway you sighed but before you could speak, Luke did. 

“What’s going on?” His eyes held an immeasurable amount of concern. 

“I’m…I’m leaving. I’m going back to Philly.” You wondered if Luke heard the agony in your voice or if Spencer did on the other end of the phone. 

Leaving the BAU was hard, but leaving Luke worse. Luke was without a doubt one of your favourite people on the face of the earth. He was your friend, your confidant, your non-biological sibling. In some ways he’d helped to fill the void in your life left by your sister’s death. He would never truly understand all the ways in which he’d pulled you out of the darkness you’d found yourself in since you were seventeen years old and hearing about your sister’s passing. 

You were sure you would never have the words to fully explain your level of gratitude for this man simply being a part of your life. You’d helped him through a lot of dark times, but he didn’t understand how he’d also aided you in yours. You wanted to thank him, to try and make him understand what he meant to you, but if you started getting sappy and nostalgic he would certainly know something was up. And you couldn’t arouse suspicion. 

“Seriously?” He frowned deeply at you. “I saw you two days ago, what happened in the space of forty eight hours?” 

What had happened in the space of forty eight hours? Now that was a good question. In the last forty eight hours you’d inadvertently found Spencer cleaning blood out of his car, proceeded to have him explain that he had killed two men and subsequently had him convince you to join him on his vigilante mission. You’d raided your storage unit from your fugitive hunting days, created new identities and set fire to a car. Now you are quitting your job and going on the run with your best friend. 

Just your average weekend. 

“My dad called, my mom is really sick and he needs my help.” You told him, stuffing your hands in your pockets as they started to shake again. 

“Oh god,” he softened, taking a step towards you. “Oh Y/N, I'm so sorry. What’s wrong with her?”

What was wrong with her? Fuck, what was wrong with her?

“Uh, cancer.” You spat out the first thing that came to your mind, hoping to god he wouldn’t ask you to be more specific. 

“Shit.” He pulled a face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

He was suddenly flinging his arms around your neck and pulling you close. You reluctantly removed your hands from your pockets so you could hug him back. The cell phone in your pocket was pressing hard against your chest, most likely muffling the microphone. If you were ever going to tell him the truth, to turn Spencer in, now was your chance. 

But you wouldn’t do that. You weren’t going to betray him. Despite your better judgement you believed in what Spencer was doing even though you knew it was wrong, you were joining him on his crusade. You didn’t want to raise any red flags with him on the other end of the phone so you pulled back from the embrace and smiled sadly at Luke.

“Gonna miss you, viejo.” You slotted your hands back in your pockets. 

“Not half as much as I’m gonna miss, conejito.” He returned your melancholy smile.

Before you could say too much you took a few steps backwards towards the elevator remembering Spencer’s words and knowing if anyone was going to see through your lies it would be Luke. 

You pressed the button to call for it and the doors almost immediately sprung open. You stepped inside and turned back to Luke, feeling tears stinging the backs of your eyes. 

“I love you Luke Alvez. Never forget that.” You forced a smile. 

“I love you too.” He chuckled softly. “I’ll call you soon, ok?” 

You nodded as the elevator doors closed, shutting Luke out of your life. A tear escaped your eye because you knew that in following Spencer, you would probably never be able to see Luke again. 

And you missed your viejo already. 

***

Spencer accompanied you to pick up the essentials from your apartment whilst making you leave your cell phone behind so you couldn’t be tracked, then swung by his place and soon the two of you were hitting the road in the little old Nissan. You had no idea where you were going and you didn’t ask. Maybe you should have had an idea of where the two of you were heading given the Colorado licences you’d had made, but you didn’t speak to confirm that. You hadn’t said much of anything since you’d walked out of the BAU. 

He knew you were having second thoughts, the doubt was written all over your face from the moment you’d joined him back at the car. But it hadn’t stopped you from getting in the vehicle and driving away with him. 

Maybe you were under some kind of spell. You couldn’t quite work out how you’d let Spencer so easily talk you into giving up your life, especially for such a dramatic cause. But you were well aware that if you double crossed him you would end up just like those two men he’d killed. And that was somehow terrifying and exciting all at once. 

He had a place in mind in which the two of you would be able to lay low. He’d done a lot of research when he’d embarked upon this mission of places that would make a good base for his nefarious activities and provide him with seclusion at the same time. 

He’d settled on the small town of Crested Butte, a quaint little place that spanned less than a mile, nestled into the rocky mountains of Colorado. There had always been something about the small town charm that appealed to Spencer, and Crested Butte with its population of approximately one thousand, four hundred people and being located twenty one miles from the next closest town sounded like a paradise to Spencer. 

He’d found a great little rental cabin online last night after you’d gone to sleep. Located a few minutes outside of the main town on the eerily named Gothic Road, offering him the solitude he would need whilst being close to amenities. He already had confirmation of your stay there, under his new alias via an untraceable email address. 

Even electronically the owner had been particularly nosy about his reasoning for visiting the lazy town. In the winter it was a hub for skiers and summer brought with it hikers and campers. She told him that spring was out of season and he wouldn’t find much to do around Crested Butte. 

So he’d concocted the story that he and his lovely wife Rose were looking for a getaway to reignite the spark in their marriage and they weren’t really looking to spend much time outside of the cabin. If she caught his drift. That had seemed to shut her up pretty fast. 

The main appeal for Spencer, aside from its isolation, was its proximity to many other states. It allowed him relatively easy access to the likes of Kansas, Oklahoma, Arizona and Nebraska to name but a few. He’d already started compiling a hit list of sorts in the surrounding states.

And on top of that, after yet more research of police databases, to which gaining access to hadn’t been easy but also not impossible when moron’s like Luke Alvez left their logins lying around, he’d ascertained that the last known sighting of Duncan Green had been in Taos, New Mexico six months ago. New Mexico was just south of Colorado and Spencer had every intention of making a trip down there to check it out. 

It would be a few days before he reached Crested Butte as it was nearly two thousand miles across the country. But he’d factored that into his research as well and had a few planned pit stops along the way. 

It was almost a four hundred mile drive to his first stop off point in West Virginia. You managed to stay silent for at least the first two hours of the drive. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and each time you had your focus set out the passenger’s window. 

He took the I-66 out onto the I-81 heading south, passing Harrisonburg when he finally decided to try and break this long and awkward stretch of silence. 

“So, you really expect me to believe nothing is going on with you and Luke after this morning?” He hadn’t strictly meant to say that, there were much more conducive things he could have said, but he knew this particular topic would get a rise out of you. 

As expected you tore your eyes off of the road and turned to face him in your seat. He could feel the frustration rolling off of you in waves which had in part been the desired effect. 

“I don’t know why men always assume just because a woman is nice to someone it automatically means they’re sleeping with him.” You huffed.

“Hey I said nothing about sleeping with him. But considering you brought it up, maybe that’s a Freudian slip.” He smirked to himself. 

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered with a shake of your head. “Why do you care anyway? If I had slept with Alvez, not that I’m saying I have, why would you care?” 

“No one said I cared.” Spencer drummed his fingers against the wheel. 

“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure do bring it up a lot.” You folded your arms and turned back to the window. 

“I was just trying to make conversation. You haven’t said a word since we got in the car.” He rolled his eyes. 

Your head snapped around to look at him once more as he drove. At the moment he looked just like the Spencer you’d always known. He was dressed more Spencer-appropriate in a shirt and black slacks, his bottom lip was pouted in concentration the way you’d seen so many times. His nimble fingers continued to drum against the wheel. 

For all intents and purposes, he didn’t look like a murderer. But you’d come to learn in your years on the job that they often didn’t. You would never look at him and think he could be capable of this. 

Part of the reason for your silence was the simple fact you didn’t know what to say to Spencer. Conversation used to flow so easily between the two of you but now you had no idea what to talk about. You had so many questions taking up space in your brain but you weren’t sure you really wanted an answer to any of them. But eventually you were going to have to know, if you were to spend the rest of your life on the road with Spencer while he outrun the cops, you’d need to know the depths of which you’d been thrown into. 

“Where are we going?” You started small, a piece of information you would be able to handle.

“Eventually, Colorado. But it’s going to take a little while to get there. Tonight we’ll be staying in Logan, West Virginia. It’s still about another four and half hours away.” 

“Why Logan?” 

“No reason. It wasn’t too far out of the way and it's a quiet town where we won’t draw attention to ourselves.” He shrugged.

“Why Colorado?” You narrowed your eyes on him.

“Again, no reason. I looked for small, low population towns. Places where people will leave us alone and let us lay low.” 

“You know I’m going to have to check in from time to time right? Luke will try to call me, how do I explain that I left my phone back in DC?” You changed tacts, deciding it didn’t matter much where you were going. 

“You can call him when we get to Logan from the disposable phone. Tell him you accidentally left your phone behind in your hurry to leave and this is your temporary number. You’ll tell him you will contact him when you have a chance but you’re going to be really busy with your mom so ask him not to hassle you.” 

“Is there anything you haven’t thought about?” You clucked. 

“Unlikely.” You saw him smirk. “Admittedly if I didn’t have you and your resources from your fugitive hunting days, it would have been a lot harder. Oh, I got something for you, it’s in the glovebox.” 

You frowned at him as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. He nodded towards the glovebox when you made no attempt to move. You unfolded your arms and leant forward in your seat, sceptical about what you might find in there. 

“If it’s a severed head you really need to read up on how to impress women.” 

“Funny.” He chuckled. “Just open it.” 

You rolled your eyes and did as you were told. The glovebox was pretty sparse, aside from the old owners manual and a small red jewellery box. You glanced at him in confusion as you picked it up and turned it over in your hands. 

“Women like jewellery right?” He teased.

“What is it?” 

“Open it.” He laughed. 

You sighed and ran your fingers over the lid before popping it open. Inside the box nestled in a little cushion were two identical gold bands. On closer inspection it was clear they weren’t brand new, the gold worn away in places and there were little nicks in the bands. 

You looked across at Spencer, thoroughly confused now and he alternated between looking at the road and glancing at you. 

“Do you like them?” His lip was turned up in a smile. 

“Recycled jewellery, a girl's best friend.” You replied sassily which caused him to laugh. 

“We’re supposed to be married, Rose. It will help with the illusion.” 

“Where did you get these?” You stared at the rings, feeling your stomach turn. “Please god don’t tell me you took them from one of those men. Because that’s just too morbid for words.”

Again Spencer laughed, removing one hand from the wheel and reaching over to pluck one of the rings from the box. 

“They belonged to my grandparents. My moms parents.” He slid the larger of the two bands onto his ring finger. 

“You want me to wear your grandmother's wedding ring?” You pulled a face, still holding the ring box. 

“Don’t be absurd. My grandmother’s ring wouldn’t fit you. You’ll have to wear my grandfathers.” As soon as the words were out his mouth, your face fell and you glared at him wildly. Spencer laughed before continuing. “I’m kidding! Jeez, didn’t you used to have a sense of humour?”

“Maybe before I found myself on the run with a murderer.” You rolled your eyes but found yourself picking up the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger.

Somehow, the ring fit like a glove, how that was possible you didn’t know. You looked down at it on your hand and it struck you how normal it looked adorned on your finger. You shook that thought off quickly as you tossed the now empty box back into the glove compartment. 

You’re wearing the wedding ring belonging to your murderer best friend's Alzheimer's ridden mother’s mother. Nothing about this is normal. 

You twirled it around your finger a few times, adjusting to the way it felt. Spencer really had thought of everything, crossed all the T’s and dotted all the I’s. 

“How many more people are you going to kill along our journey?” You found yourself asking, still playing with the ring but looking up at the side of Spencer’s face. 

“That depends on how many people deserve it.” He told you honestly. 

“Why are we really stopping in Logan? Is there someone there you plan to kill?” You saw the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel, the only hint that he gave you that you were right. Spencer didn’t have many tells but this was the only give away you needed. “I’m right aren’t I?” You spoke again when he didn’t reply.

“Yes.” He spoke through his teeth. “There’s a town seventy miles north of Logan called Huntington. An ex-cop lives there. His name is Lyle Smith. He killed his pregnant wife and her sister. But being ex-law enforcement he knew how to cover his tracks.” 

“What if you’re wrong? Did you consider that? If there’s no proof that these men committed these crimes, how do you know you’re not wrong?” 

His hands clamped harder around the steering wheel and when he spoke his tone actually scared you.

“I’m not wrong.” He growled aggressively, knuckles quickly turning white against the wheel. “Smith is an alcoholic with a history of domestic abuse. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the drunk wife beater killed them. Do not question me, Y/N. I know what I’m doing.” 

You shrunk back in your seat and chewed on your bottom lip, deciding against speaking any further. You stared at the old gold band on your finger, already feeling like a noose even though it wasn’t a real wedding ring. 

What the hell am I doing? What have I gotten myself into? 

You’d taken a leap of faith, giving up everything you’d worked for to blindly follow Spencer into the unknown. But why? Why had you succumbed to him so easily? 

This could end up being the stupidest thing you’d ever done. But you had done it, and now there was no going back. So you could either sit here in regret or make the most of this situation. 

It could be a brand new chapter, a fresh start, just you and Spencer against the world. It might all blow up in your face, it might end in disaster. But unless you threw caution to the wind and were ready to risk it all, you would never know what could have been. It was time to shake things up, to rock the boat. And even if everything backfired, at least you’d always be able to say you tried and not that you’d never know. 

Do what you're told,

Don't think about it.

Life is dangerous outside these walls,

So tell me how,

We're supposed to make it,

When they make our dreams appear so small.

We could fail, we could fall, we could flatline,

Bet it all, roll the dice, it could backfire.

Hide the key, play it safe, till it's over,

Do or die, fight or flight.

So take the leap!

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know,

If you never ante up and let it roll.

Ah-oh Ah-oh!

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know?

If you never take a shot and lose control.

Let's risk it all.

So picture this,

A new beginning,

Where the canvas clears a brand new path.

So make a mess,

And go get in trouble,

And make a toast to those who never left.

We could fail, we could fall, we could flatline,

Bet it all, roll the dice, it could backfire.

Hide the key, play it safe, till it's over,

Do or die...

Don't make me say it again.

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know,

If you never ante up and let it roll.

Ah-oh Ah-oh!

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know,

If you never take a shot and lose control,

Let's risk it all.

For the ones who doubted, thanks for nothing,

Gonna show you that we're made of something.

No you can't escape the fight we're bringing,

Cause when you knock us down we're coming for you.

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know,

If you never ante up and let it roll.

Ah-oh Ah-oh!

Cause you never know,

Yeah you never know,

If you never take a shot and lose control.

Let's risk it all.

Taglist

@bubblebuttwade @andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @dirtytissuebox @ssa-uglywhore27 @reidselle @dreatine @dr-spencerr-reidd @spenxerslut @radtwinkie @drayshadow @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @safespacespence @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @dielgonacoffee @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle

[offside-the-lines]

I’m Sorry, We’re Out Of Time

A/N: I just had to get this out of my brain or I won’t be doing ANYTHING ELSE this week. Truly wrote this on my phone over the past hour or so. Not proofread or edited. I have no idea if it even makes any sense. Also no titles. Fucking I don’t know. IT’S A MONDAY. JESUS. It’s around 800 words. Edit: just found out he was already in nashville with the team and didnt fly out until the following morning but *hand wave* narratives. (Also posted on AO3)

About: Jamie’s trade, unsaid and said words, inner turmoil, angst and sadness

Pairing: Jamie Drysdale x Trevor Zegras

Jamie always meant to tell Trevor that he loved him. Always thought he would have the time. Time for what? He doesn’t really know. Time to find the right words, he guesses? The perfect words. Words that will make Trevor know that he wasn’t joking. Something Trevor won’t just laugh off. Time to figure out their future together.

He plays with his phone in his lap as he sits in the back of the Uber, stuck in the Monday afternoon traffic near LAX.

His phone starts to vibrate in his hand and he doesn’t need to look to know who it is. He sighs deeply and closes his eyes, letting his head drop back onto the headrest.

Click. He hears the call connect but doesn’t know what to say.

He hears the shallow breathing on the other end of the phone. A sharp intake of breath. A “Jamie?” whispered through a cracking voice.

In all the years he has known Trevor, he has never heard him quiet. Even the silent treatment, Trevor did loudly. This quiet unsettles him.

He let out a shaking breath. “Yeah, Z.”

“I — I saw — Is it true? You are — oh god — Are you?” His voice getting impossibly quieter.

In the back of a Prius, Jamie feels his chest clench painfully and thought for a second that if he had a heart attack, he probably wouldn’t have to leave. Philly probably won’t want someone who gets heart attacks over a teammate sounding impossibly sad.

He can breathe. He can swallow down his own heartbreak. Yeah, that he can do; be there for Trevor. “Yeah, Trev.”

“FUCK!”

The sudden change in pitch makes Jamie jump so high he almost hits his head on the roof.

Before Trevor could say anything else — Jamie knew if Trevor asked to see him, he would break — Jamie gently offers, “They already picked me up in an Uber. I’m on my way to LAX right now. I’m sorry. I wish I could have told you earlier. I’m sorry. It just all happened so fast.” He feels his voice catch in the back of his throat; he tries to swallow the lump down without success.

Through the phone, he hears Trevor sniffle. “Oh.” His voice is so small that Jamie can only guess that’s what he said before a small muffled sob trickles through.

Jamie clenches his fist so tight he thinks he might break his hand. What’s another injury anyway. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything; just focusing on his breathing while trying his hardest not to hear whatever sounds Trevor was making. Trying not to think.

He’s not sure how long they sit in silence when the driver lets him know they were almost there.

“Hey, Z? We’re pulling up to the airport so I’m going to have to hang up soon. We’ll still talk all the time okay? Like in the summer. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” Jamie tries not to hear the wobble in his voice

“Yeah, bud. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Trevor lets out a weak snort, injects fake levity into this voice. “Yeah. You’re stuck with me too. Hey, I’ll see you in Mexico right?”

Jamie hums his agreement even though he doesn’t know if he will be able to do it. To see Trevor again after all this. He’s almost glad the Ducks have already played almost their games against the Flyers this year.

They sit in silence for a little while longer as Jamie watches the car pull into the terminal.

“Hey Trev —” he starts.

“Jamie, I love you,” Trevor whispers, quiet but no shake in his voice.

Jamie feels all the air leave his lungs. He almost chokes on his own tongue. His head spins as he slams his eyes shut. The blood rushing in his ears drowning out the sound of his Uber driver throwing the car in park and getting out to grab his bags.

This motherfucker always has the worst timing, Jamie thinks, panic welling up. There isn’t time for Jamie to dissect what he means by that. If Trevor means that like—

There isn’t time for Jamie to decide what his plan A is. Or Plan B. Or—

There isn’t time for anything.

So he just does what he always does. “Yeah, Z. Duh. Love you too, bud. I’ll see you soon yeah? We just pulled in and I gotta go.”

“Oh yeah, for sure. Have a good flight, I guess. Send me a pic or whatever,” Trevor says.

“Yeah you too. Um, later, dude.”

“Yeah,” Trevor says, “bye Jamie.”

And the line goes dead.

Jamie slams his head on the head rest and lets out a choked scream. “Fuck,” he says to no one as he steps out into the tepid early evening air outside LAX.

[hallaheart]

evie

talking about pet loss

today is day 6, or day 7 from when we first learned the situation last thursday and made our decision to let go of Evie for her quality of life. Right now, we are doing as okay as we can be. Evie was a cat who was always around us or in our shadow, so her not being around hits pretty hard just because her behavior and where she liked to hang out was predictable. The situation was that Evie had a dental cleaning just before we flew to Philly for a good friend's wedding a few weeks ago. She has not been grooming lately, but we and the vet suspected it was because she needed a lot of dental work done. During the dental cleaning, they found a mass under her tongue and did a biopsy. When we got back we got the news that the biopsy revealed it was a squamous cell carcinoma which is a highly aggressive tumor and apparently the most common kind to affect kitty mouths. We met with a vet oncologist last Thurs who examined her and found that in just the time since the biopsy one week before that the tumor had actually grown at a pretty alarming rate. E was not able to eat or drink on her own almost all of last week and was hiding/not very active, though she still was sitting with us and purring with pets and love. The treatments available for the tumor were all basically pretty extreme….chemo pills (which she had to be able to swallow whole on her own, which she physically could not do) and a feeding tube. And we had a long talk with the vet who explained (really well) that basically any treatment would have the goal of just keeping her where she currently was vs it getting worse, and obviously… the place where she was was not a good quality of life. There was not any treatment for E that was actually a bridge to having a healthy cat back--it would just basically buy her more time at a really poor quality of life until eventually she would die in a lot of pain and suffering because she couldn't eat or drink. The week before was the most stressful week of my life because of how much I was worried about her not eating. She lost a ton of weight in just a few days. The choice of course is not easy, but there was no other choice we could make where we would have done right by her. So we talked with the vet and brought Evie home Thursday night and scheduled her appointment for Friday morning. We got one last evening with her and her last morning she hung out in all the sunniest patches of the house, even laying on her side for a bit and relaxing. She's only been kind of tightly loafing lately because it was obvious she was in a lot of pain, so seeing her relaxed just felt like... she might have known it would be over soon and could accept it. When we came back to the vet Friday and it was time, i was able to hold her in my lap for the whole time, in one of her blankies, as she fell asleep and then right up to the end. The moment was actually very peaceful and it felt right and beautiful that i got to hold her. they had a white noise machine in the room that i have at home, which i use every night, so i turned that on to the setting we use at bedtime, and we played Asleep by the Smiths and I held her so tight. She was so calm and peaceful, and I felt such a weight off my chest even though it was over. We were so lucky in many ways with this. We got a very certain picture of her diagnosis and her outlook for treatment, a really great vet staff who were compassionate, honest, and helpful in every step of the road and careful to explain everything to us. Most people don't have the luxury of one more night with their pets, or of knowing that the choice to put a pet to sleep is the only right one versus having to choose not to pursue expensive courses of treatment. It's been a weird couple days because occasionally i get so sad, but i also have not felt like the sadness was insurmountable

She was my best friend and my soul cat, she slept with me every night so the first night without her was so hard. I held the blankie so tight. This morning was tough because Luna has really seemed to realize that she's gone. She woke us up early and spent hours running around the house checking all the spots where Evie has been hiding while sick. This destroyed me. We tried to explain to her the whole time, because I don't know if she can understand us, but we try to explain it to her. It's been about 6 days now. It feels like a lifetime, and also like it just happened yesterday. There's two things that still punch me in the gut everytime--getting back and opening the front door and only having one cat run to greet me, and then going to bed every night alone makes me feel like I'm going to puke.

Losing Evie just feels so soon. It was such a fast decline from the biopsy news to the vet appointment to the final day. It sounds kind of bad--but Luna is so much older that i thought we'd be on this hell ride with Luna first because we've only had Evie for about 9 years and she was only about a year old when I got her. I wish she was with us longer. I miss her so much, but im also glad and honored that like, i could be the one to take on all the pain she was feeling so she doesn't have to suffer anymore... But it also really fucking sucks to lose my best friend no matter how hard I try to be stoic about it. Its been up and down, for a while im doing like so okay, and I forget, but then like I do a goofy run to the bathroom to shower, and forget that she wasn't there to chase me like she always does, and then I cry my eyes out in the shower.

She loved to sit on me while i was gaming on my laptop or during meetings at work. She always liked to scratch the back of my work chair and if I put my desk in standing mode or get up to go get a drink, i came back to her sitting in my chair like it was the throne. She loved to be on camera, so playing DND on Discord this week was so hard. I had a lump in my throat the whole time and it was hard to focus. Same with work meetings.

And it was so fast how bad she got? It was such a decline like just over the week in how she was feeling, and then it was so fast from the vet oncologist to the end, but also like... she was doing so bad Friday morning as far as eating/drinking that if i hadn't scheduled it already i would have called them and been like, we need to do it today. I couldn't bear another week of her not eating and hiding. She could hardly move or respond to things. There was a moment Thurs night that i got up in the middle of the night and i was a little afraid she was already gone, she was so still.

Evie and I had a bond literally almost from the first moment we met; we were visiting some cats because we wanted to get a buddy for Luna and we picked her up--she had just arrived in the shelter, and she put her chin on my shoulder, hugged me and purred like a 747. And that was just how she always was ever since, even at the very end she was so happy to be held and so at peace in my arms. Sharing the last picture I took of her the morning of. I love this picture. She was so relaxed that morning, enjoying watching the lizards outside from the sunniest patch. She laid on my chest and purred, like she always did.

the world is so much grayer without her in it

[jackstockhypno]

Cocky Muscle Italian (Custom)

In this VERY customized audio, you become a cocky italian-american musclehead college-age jock. You become hyper masculine and rough on the edges.

You love to take risks, live with high testosterone, and think about muscle building all day long.

Drink beer, get arm/chest tattoos, walk with a swagger.

Thick hair on your chest. Dress like a straight guy from the East Coast with a philly accent.

Jeans and t-shirts, gym clothes etc. Charismatic extroverted personality, even to the point of "toxic masculinity".

You become sexually adventurous with men, even though you're outwardly straight-acting, you're willing to top any ass, be fucked by any cock, and suck men off.

Group sex, get sucked off, into spit, masculine smells, etc.

Eat your own cum, suck cock like jocks in a porno, get horny and excited at sucking cock and even more when you swallow.

Your gag reflex is disabled so that you can deepthroat more cock. 

*This is a very intricate custom-ordered file, so it will only be suitable for certain people. 

Listen to the Full Quality version here

Connect with me JackDominates.com/links

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Monthly Follower Recs

Monthly follower recommendations for the month of December 2023

a night to remember (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Why did he think going anywhere alone would be a good idea? And to an honest to god queer prom for sad grown-ups who missed out the first time around because they were too busy being closeted.

DreamCasts Presents (ao3) - SummerFlingsAndThings (QueenJunoTheGreat)

Summary: Phil's son is obsessed with the faceless man who narrates audiobooks.

Dan's daughter is obsessed with the brightly dressed librarian in charge of the children's department.

And Dan and Phil? Well, they're a little obsessed with one another.

Neighbourly Nook (ao3) - wednesday_ukiru

Summary: The stranger had a dimple on his cheek that appeared when he laughed.

“I’m Dan,” he said, extending his hand. Phil reached for it with extreme eagerness, their knuckles knocking together in a particularly painful way, and they both winced, but Dan immediately broke into a smile. “I don’t know why I offered you a handshake, I never know how to do them.”

photos in portugal (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Mostly, Dan just looks silly and gangly-limbed, his curls dripping with pool water, his foot sticking out, and Phil can’t help but pull his phone out to take a picture.

--

A fic about their November 2023 Portugal trip.

Sweet Juliet (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan is a baker in his thirties, feeling the weight of the passage of time on his shoulders, living a content yet uneventful life until a mysterious man takes it upon himself to whisk him away.

'tis the damn season - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is the coffee shop regular at the shop Phil just started working at. Phil quickly learns that Dan is a bit of a Grinch who refuses to try the shops' holiday drinks, or anything new really. Phil's determined to change Dan's mind about the holiday drinks.

write our names in the wet concrete (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: “Dan!” Phil instinctively scolds him, even though there’s not a single kid in sight. “Where do you suggest we go? We’ve got forty minutes until we have to be back here—no one way are we going to be able to get food and eat it in this time.”

Dan gets a glint in his eye, and Phil knows he’s accepted the statement as a challenge. “You know, fast food places exist, right Philly?”

“Well, I didn’t expect our first date to be—” Ah, shit, he’s said it. He may as well commit to it now and swallow his pride. Dan’s watching him with an unreadable expression, his mouth quirked upward and eyebrows drawn to his hairline, but Phil can’t tell if he’s looking snarky or hopeful. “At a McDonald’s, is all.”

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With a little help from Jake, Bob and Molly, Bradley gets a chance to plead his case. But you're still on the fence about the Phillies game, and Bradley can't stand the thought of disappointing Everett. He bought those tickets for the three of you, because he wants to be on your perfect, little team.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and fluff

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

When Molly told you that she couldn't take Everett to practice on Thursday, you actually whined at her. You were a mess of every emotion that could possibly be felt right now, and you were afraid you'd collapse like a house of cards in a stiff breeze as soon as you saw Bradley's big brown eyes again. 

And then you remembered everything Jake said, and you wanted to run Bradley over with your car. You couldn't go on feeling this divided inside. You were exhausted and not sleeping well, and you snapped at Everett over nothing this morning. And now as you were about to pick him up and take him to practice, you needed to get back on track. You needed to stop thinking about Bradley.

"Mom!" Everett said, climbing into your car and buckling up. "Only three more days until the Phillies game."

You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on your steering wheel before you started pulling out of the parking lot. "Ev, I don't know if that's still happening."

There was silence from the backseat. "Is this because you've been sad?" Your heart was squeezing in your chest as you swallowed hard. "Because the Phillies will cheer you up! And Coach Bradley will be there, and it's not on a tee ball day, so I can just call him Bradley like you do. And we can eat hot dogs like we did at the game last year."

"Ev," you managed to say, but there were tears in your eyes again. "We can talk about it more later, okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered, and you knew he was confused and upset, but you thought this was better than blindsiding him later. 

When you got to the ballfield, you made it a point to park far away from the Bronco. You changed your shoes on your way down to the bleachers like you always did, and Bradley came over to greet Everett like he always did. But his eyes were hopeful and set on you, almost like he was relieved. 

"Kitten," he whispered in that damn voice that made you see stars when you touched yourself in bed. 

"Coach," you replied without emotion, kneeling down in front of Everett to help him change into his cleats. 

"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you," Bradley said softly, and you could see him shifting from foot to foot out of the corner of your eye.

You kissed Everett's cheek and sent him over to Bob to warm up. Then you met Bradley's soft gaze with one of steel. "Molly was unavailable today. That's why I'm here. And I thought I told her to tell you to stop sending flowers to my house."

He nodded. "She did."

"Then why are there still flowers being delivered to my house?"

Bradley reached for you, but you stepped away from him. This was good. He was pissing you off. You didn't feel like forgiving him at all. He wouldn't stop with the flowers, and he was trying to touch you even though you didn't want him to.

"Kitten," he whispered. 

"Stop calling me that."

He sighed. "I know why you're still mad at me. You should be mad at me. I'm mad at myself." When you didn't respond, he said, "I'll stop sending flowers to your house if you let me walk you and Ev to your car after practice."

It seemed like a small price to pay, honestly. "Fine."

Bradley's eyes lit up like you had agreed to a lot more than walking forty yards with him. "Perfect," he whispered. "I can't wait."

You watched him walk away as you settled on the bleachers. Really, the walk to your car would only take a few minutes, and Everett would be doing most of the talking. You'd be fine. And over time, you'd get over Bradley and the way he broke your heart. 

So you watched the practice, trying to focus on Everett, but fully aware that your gaze made its way to Bradley every few minutes. You almost couldn't handle the way he was so sweet with your son, kneeling down to make sure Everett was okay after he got hit with a ball. You didn't have the heart to tell your son that there would be no more hanging out in the park with his coach. 

When practice was ending, you pulled Everett's shoes out and braced yourself for the walk to your car with Bradley. It would be fine.

Then you heard the other moms, and you felt like crying again as you looked down at your feet. "I see she's finally back at practice today, Tara." It was Sandra, not even trying to keep her voice down. 

"I don't see how she's allowed to be Team Mom if she's never here." What the hell? You only missed one game and one practice!

"Here comes Bradley. I think I'll ask him about it."

But Bradley must have heard them, because you looked up to see him and Everett standing in front of you. "Come on, Sandra, don't give her a hard time for missing a practice," Bradley said, and you gaped at him. He looked angry as he talked to the other moms. 

You turned to look at Sandra over your shoulder as she sweetly said, "It was actually a practice and a game, Bradley. And I'd be more than happy to take over her duties."

"No," Bradley said firmly. "She's the best, and I want the best for the team."

"It was just a suggestion," Sandra muttered, glaring at you as you stood and had Everett sit down. You quickly switched his shoes without a word and then you turned to Bradley who was looking at you like you were something to be adored.

"We're walking to the parking lot now," you told him. "And remember, no more flowers after this. Come on, Ev." You watched your son bounce a few steps ahead of you and Bradley, and you decided to be as cordial as you could. "And thanks, but I don't need you to defend me like that. I can take care of myself."

Bradley looked at you while you looked straight ahead. "I know you can. And you can take care of Everett, too. That's part of the reason I find you so sexy."

You pressed your lips together and tried to keep yourself from moaning. It wasn't fair that he was able to make you so confused with just his words. Then he added, "I'll always defend you both, Kitten. Always."

"Bradley," you murmured, emotionally lost between tears and attraction.

"You and Ev, whatever it takes," he rasped, his voice so soft as you watched Everett stop his bouncing. 

"Hey, Coach? My mom said we might not be going to the Phillies game."

"Ev," you said, cutting Bradley off before he could say anything. "I said we would talk about it later."

"But Mom, it is later," he replied, and you watched Bradley rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. "And I really want to go!"

Thankfully you were close to your car now, so you started walking a little faster. But you still heard Bradley say, "I really want to go, too."

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

Bradley's heart was pounding as he opened the back door for Everett just like he used to. You had parked so far away from his Bronco, it made his heart ache even more. Before he closed the door, Bradley leaned in and said, "Great practice today, kiddo. I'll see you on Saturday? You'll be well rested? We need our power hitter against the Tiny Cardinals."

"Yeah, Coach Bradley," he replied with a high five. But Everett's disappointment over potentially missing the Phillies game was palpable, and Bradley's heart clenched as he closed the door. 

He turned to look at you, realizing this was his only chance. After this, he wouldn't be able to hold anything over your head to make you talk to him or spend time with him. If he didn't pull this off now, you'd kick him to the curb for good. 

"I'm not going to lie to you. I'm never going to lie to you, Kitten," he promised, and he watched your eyes flutter closed as you leaned back against your car door. "I said that shit so many weeks ago, because I was afraid of the way I felt about you. I was dying to get to know you, even after the first day we met. You and Ev? You're perfect, baby. You're obviously too good for me, that much is clear. And I was insecure, and I am embarrassed about it now."

"Bradley," you whispered, looking up at him with tears in your pretty eyes. The urge to touch you was almost too much, but he managed to keep his hands clenched at his sides. 

"I know, Kitten. I fucked up with you. I would do anything for you to forgive me, for you to let me try to make this right. Because I want to be with you, be your only ball of yarn. But I will get on my knees right now and beg you to let me take Everett to the Phillies game on Sunday. I'll beg you if that's what it takes, because I can't bear to see him upset. I can't be someone who lets him down after making a promise to him. Please." 

You just looked at him, your lip quivering as you wiped the unshed tears from your eyes. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but he was too afraid to say them yet. He knew you'd get right in your car and drive away if he dared to say them to you right now. So he nodded once and started to drop down to his knees, but you reached for his arm, keeping him up.

"Don't beg," you whispered, releasing him as soon as you were convinced he wasn't going to kneel down. He wanted your hand back on him immediately, but you were clasping your fingers nervously in front of you now, and Bradley once again couldn't believe he'd done this to you.

You sniffed and then said, "You can take Ev to the Phillies game, but you'll have to find someone else for the third ticket. Maybe Bob will go, too."

Bradley's heart was pounding. You were going to let him take Everett to the game. "Kitten, it's either the three of us going together, or Ev and I will sit with an empty seat next to us. I got that ticket for you."

You licked your lips and nodded, and Bradley was just about to reach for you, but then you said, "After Sunday, I'll figure out how to tell him that you won't be spending time with us outside of tee ball anymore."

And as elated as he felt over being able to take Everett to the game, now he was afraid he was going to cry in front of you. "Kitten, just think about coming with us, okay? Just think about not having that conversation with him."

You started shaking your head, but Bradley caged you in against the door, his fingers brushing your hair. "You won't let me drop to my knees and beg you. You won't let me try to be better for you. Kitten, you're breaking my heart. So please, please just don't make any decisions like that yet. That third ticket is yours if you want it. I don't need an answer yet. Just think about it." 

You were just a few inches away from him when you finally nodded, and Bradley let out the breath he had been holding. 

"I'll think about it," you whispered, barely meeting his eyes, and he moved out of your personal space as you opened your door and slipped inside. Bradley gently closed the door and watched you drive away as Everett waved to him from the back seat. 

As soon as you were out of sight, Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he scrambled just in case it was you. Maybe you already decided to give him another chance?

It was Jake. "What do you want?" Bradley growled into his phone. 

"Hey, are you coming to the bar tonight? I have some good news for you."

Bradley signed and headed for the Bronco. "This better be the best news I've ever heard."

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

You were thankful that Everett's game wasn't until Saturday afternoon, because that meant Molly could come with you. She had been so good to you all week, making sure you had everything you needed and running Everett around when she wasn't working. Plus, she'd been spending a lot of time with Bob.

It was obvious to you that she was smitten with Coach Cute Glasses, and things were starting to heat up a bit for them. You were happy for her, of course you were, but every time you thought about the night that the five of you went out for pizza, you got jealous. You wanted that all the time. But you also wanted Bradley to respect you and Everett. 

"You ready to go?" Molly asked Everett as he was dressed in his uniform. 

"Ready!" he said with a high five. When you had walked past his bedroom door to make sure he was getting changed for the game, you saw him flipping through the binder of baseball cards that Bradley had apparently dropped off for him. The stuffed Phanatic was back on his bed for now. His Phillies cap was hanging on the doorknob. You were making the right decision by allowing Bradley to take him to the Phillies game. But you were a little sad you'd be missing out.

"Let's go then," Molly told him, bending to tickle his sides. "Stop messing around, Everett. We'll be late if you don't stop," she told him as she continued to tickle him until he escaped and ran out to your car. "God, I fucking love that kid."

You laughed for the first time in so many days. "He's the best."

Molly looked at you cautiously. "Bob told me that Bradley was grounded at work all week. He was a distracted mess, so they wouldn't let him fly."

You gaped at her. "He was?"

"He was," Molly confirmed. "According to Bob, he's a mess over what happened with you. He can barely eat, and he's been drinking a lot of bourbon."

You bit your lip against the feeling of elation filling you up. You didn't necessarily want Bradley to feel that way, and you certainly didn't want anyone to get hurt. But if he was really distraught because of you, then maybe he really did care. Maybe he really did have a change of heart. 

"And that's not all," Molly added as you followed her out to your car. 

"It's not?" you whispered, heart pounding.

Molly shook her head. "I'm only telling you this, because I'm pretty sure Bobby is incapable of lying. But Bradley told him he's never felt this way before, and he's in it for the long haul, willing to keep trying to get you back. He said you and Everett are perfect."

You froze with your hand on your car door. "He told me that, too, Molly. Do you think I should give him a second chance?"

Your sister sighed and just kind of shrugged at you. "I love you, and I want you to be happy. Did he make you happy when he wasn't being a douche canoe?"

You closed your eyes and pictured him eating ice cream with Everett on his lap. You thought about how he still showed up to Career Day. You thought about sitting on the beach and having cheap burgers and expensive champagne with him. "He did," you whispered, your forehead coming to rest against your car.

"Mom, we'll be late!" Everett called through the closed door, and you lifted your head to look at Molly.

"Maybe let him try to prove that he means what he's saying now, and not what he said before?" Molly suggested. 

"Maybe," you agreed, opening your door. 

This time you parked a little closer to the Bronco, and when you spotted Bradley, he was already making his way over. 

"There's Coach Bradley," Everett announced, hopping out of the car before you even had your seatbelt off. You watched Everett run right for him without hesitation, knowing he'd be welcomed by a hug and a pat on the shoulder. Bradley turned Everett's Tiny Eagles cap around backward just like his, and you could see Everett talking a mile a minute. 

"You're staring longingly," Molly remarked. 

"I can't help it," you groaned. "I want to believe him. I don't want to have to tell Everett that we can't spend time with him anymore. And I want to go to the damn Phillies game tomorrow."

"Then go," Molly urged. "If he fucks up again, you can pull the plug with no remorse. A third chance is one too many, especially where Everett is concerned."

When you climbed out of the car and made your way toward Bradley, he tracked your every move. "Kitten."

You pressed your lips together. "Hi, Coach," you replied, and you found it impossible to keep emotion from your voice today. Bradley must have noticed it, too, because he took a stumbling step toward you while his hand was still on Everett's shoulder. 

"How are you?" he asked, and Molly breezed right past him in search of Bob. 

You shrugged and said, "Okay."

"Time to start warming up," Bradley told Everett, and then when your son was gone, he took another step closer to you. "I miss you a lot, Kitten. I've been miserable. The best parts of my week were Career Day and when I got to see you at practice on Thursday. And right now. This is probably the best part of my week."

He was wearing down your resolve with his words and his unshaved face and the exhausted look in his brown eyes. And the fact that this was probably the best part of your week as well was at the forefront of your mind. 

Bradley opened his mouth to say something else, but you could hear the umpire calling for the coaches. "You better go," you told him, but he didn't move.

He swallowed hard, brown eyes on yours and asked, "Can we talk more after the game? Walk up to your car again?" 

You were nodding before you even knew it, and a hint of a smile graced his lips as he turned toward the team.

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

When the Tiny Eagles managed to pull out another win, Bradley was happy. But when you let him walk you back to your car while Molly and Everett ran ahead of you, he was elated. Your fingers brushed against his, and Bradley was dying to take your hand in his. But then you moved further away from him.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his hat, beyond nervous about how you were going to respond to him. "I'll be at your house at noon tomorrow. That okay, Kitten?" You turned toward him with a puzzled look, and the afternoon sun made your eyes light up. 

"I thought the game started at four?" you asked softly. 

"It does. But there's something I wanted Ev to see at the ballpark before the game starts. If that's okay." Bradley was shocked when Jake managed to work his connections to get access to the locker room before the game. Bradley was also allowed to let Everett on the ballfield and pitcher's mound. Now if only you would agree to come, too.

You nibbled on your lip. "That should be fine. I'll have him ready to go at noon." Then you turned away from him and headed for your car, but Bradley reached out for your hand. And you didn't pull away.

"Are you coming too, Kitten? That ticket is yours. Like I told you from the beginning, I'd be happy sitting in any seat where I can see you."

Bradley watched your eyes flutter closed, and he pulled you a little closer by your hand. "Bradley, I don't know if it's a good idea."

"Me and you are a great idea. I didn't quite see it at first. Not the full picture anyway. But I do now."

Your voice was firm, but your eyes were soft as you said, "Everett and I are a package deal. You don't get me without him, and you don't get him without me."

"I understand, Kitten. You're a team. I'm dying to be on that team."

You sucked in a deep breath and said, "I'll see you at noon tomorrow." And then your hand was slipping from his grasp, and you were walking toward your car and pulling out of the parking space. And Bradley still didn't know if you'd be coming to the Phillies with him and Ev or not.

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

When Bradley pulled up to your house at ten minutes before noon the following day, he had finally reached the point where he would accept what you told him. If you said you didn't want him around any longer after he brought Everett home tonight, he'd let you move on. He'd figure out a way to enjoy the last few weeks of tee ball with Ev, but then he would just get used to missing both of you. At least that's what he kept telling himself. 

Everett was bounding out the door wearing a Phillies jersey and his backwards cap before Bradley had even reached the porch. "Bradley! We match!"

Bradley laughed and gave him a hug. "We sure do, kiddo. I'll bet we're the biggest Phillies fans in the whole city."

Everett's eyes went wide. "Yeah. You're probably right." Bradley was eyeing the front door cautiously while Everett asked if he knew who the starting pitchers were going to be. 

"I'm not sure, but they'll announce it before the game starts," Bradley muttered, but there was still no sign of you. "Where's your mom, Ev?"

But then there you were, casually strolling out onto your front porch in ripped jeans and a Phillies shirt. And Bradley took that as a very good sign. "Do you want me to drive? Since I have the booster seat for Ev?" you asked, walking down the front steps to join them.

Bradley was gaping at you. "You're coming?" Everett was beaming, looking back and forth between the two of you. 

"Yeah, I'm coming," you said softly. 

Relief washed over Bradley, and suddenly it felt like the perfect spring day. It felt like he was being given another chance. "I'm happy there won't be an empty seat."

You smiled softly at him. "So you want me to drive?"

Bradley shook his head and reached for your hand and Everett's. "I bought a booster seat and installed it. I can drive."

Your palm slid across his as you echoed him. "You bought a booster seat? For Everett?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "And now I'll have it ready for the next time we go somewhere?" He heard the soft sound you made as you watched Everett climb into the backseat, and then Bradley leaned in close, his lips brushing your cheek. "Please, Kitten, tell me there can be a next time?"

You turned a bit, and your lips met Bradley's so softly as you said, "I hope so." 

With longing in his heart, Bradley opened the door for you, and then he walked around to the driver's seat. After he started the Bronco and shifted into drive, he let his hand come to rest on the seat, and you took it in yours. 

"This is the best day ever!" Everett cheered from the backseat as Bradley headed for Petco Park and the Phillies, feeling better than he had in over a week.

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

Kitten is going to the Phillies game! Coach, do not fuck this up, my man! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 15

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for bingo -

Intubation or eating disorder for Dennis

Please please with a cherry on top 🙏

running home, running home, running home- prompt: eating disorder

Post S12. Dennis comes back from North Dakota perfectly fine.

TW ED!!!!

Read here or below the cut

North Dakota was supposed to be a fresh start. It was supposed to give him a chance to make things right, to do things differently this time. To free himself of the baggage of the past and live for a future in which he is a father- one worthy of the title. 

It was supposed to be a fresh start, so why the fuck did he stop eating there?

Things started slowly, of course, the way they always do. He aeroplane-d the spoon into Brian Jr’s mouth and simply forgot that a flight was supposed to touch down in his at some point as well. At restaurants, he ordered sides. Claimed he’d already eaten to keep the concerned looks from Mandy at bay. 

“Are you sure you're not hungry?” she’d ask him, brow furrowed with concern. He ought to have spoken to her about it- she would have understood. 

Instead, he forced a smile and nodded. Lied through his goddamn teeth. 

“I’m full. Don’t worry about me.”

The most pathetic part was that it made him look as though he was selfless, prioritising the nourishment of his child and co-parent while neglecting his own needs, when the truth of the matter was far more ego-centric. He didn't want to eat because he had to be perfect, and to be perfect? To be perfect, he had to be thin. Perhaps he could trick himself into believing that he wanted to be perfect so he could better raise Brian Jr. Hell, maybe there's even some truth in that. 

But only a little. 

By the time he gets on the plane back to Philly, having been gone for a year, everything about him feels wrong. There's a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach that he initially attributes to missing his kid, but doesn't fade even as he talks to the gang, an interaction that’s genuinely relieving. Nor does it fade when he heads back with Mac to their apartment, settling into his own bed while Mac sprawls out on the couch, snoring like a foghorn. 

He stares up at the ceiling, blinking past the colours flitting into his field of view. The dread widens. Turns into a total uneasiness. 

“Here, take some snacks with you for the flight! You need the energy. I haven't seen you eat in days!”

“Alright… thanks. I’ll call you when I land, yeah?”

He’d thrown the granola bars she gave him into a trash can in the airport. Food was unnecessary. Food was the enemy to perfection. To worthiness. 

The next morning he wakes up with his head swimming, barely even aware he fell asleep in the first place. His lips are chapped and his eyelids feel heavy, like he could drift back off and stay there for weeks. 

As he shuffles out into the kitchen, Mac greets him. There's no way Dennis can ignore the way his roommate has changed in the time he's been gone. Mac’s buff now. 

He looks good- great, even- but that little voice in Dennis’ head sneers every time he looks at him. 

God, he's so big, it's gross. He may as well have stuffed himself full of chimichangas again. 

“Hey, Dennis! You want eggs? I made a bunch of ‘em and there's no way I'm eating them all.” Mac asks between shovelling forkfuls of scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

Dennis swallows queasily. “Uh, no. I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.”

A few years ago, Mac would have volunteered to peel an apple for him. Dennis would have eaten it. It’s the only reason he would have eaten anything at all that day. 

The thought makes him feel even more nauseous, so he pushes it aside immediately. 

“I’m… I’m gonna head to the bar early.”

“Oh, okay. See you there, man.”

Dennis slips into the back office, locks the door, and collapses into the chair there. Even the short walk from the bus stop (stupid assholes blew up his goddamn car) to Paddy’s has left him exhausted. His heart flutters worryingly in his chest. 

With nobody else to keep him awake, and no further reserves of energy to sustain him, he curls up as tightly as he can (God, he’s fucking cold) and falls into an uneasy slumber. 

**

3 weeks post-return, and the ground beneath Dennis’ feet feels unsteady. Literally. He keeps tripping over nothing, arms lurching out for purchase on the nearest object- usually Mac, sometimes Dee or Charlie. They laugh it off, and so does he, but he sees the way Dee’s eyes meet his knowingly. She’s been there before too. 

Mac’s mentioned a few times that Dennis looks thin, and each time it makes him puff out his chest with pride (even if Mac’s concerned look doesn't exactly scream compliment). At least now he doesn't seem bothered with attempting to solve that particular ‘issue’. He’s been a little more aloof since Dennis got back, and almost frightened of the man that he shares an apartment with. When Dennis walks into the living room while Mac is on the couch, the latter jumps like he's seen a ghost. It's probably because he's not used to the company now, and Dennis doesn't even try to make himself more of a presence. 

Instead, he’ll keep shrinking, getting smaller and smaller and thinner and thinner until he's barely visible at all. 

It’ll be like he never even came back from North Dakota in the first place. 

**

A month passes by, and for the rest of the gang, things seem to be getting back to normal. They start cooking up schemes again, schemes which Dennis only half listens to because they're hardly audible over the rush of blood in his head. He stood up too quickly. He's been doing that a lot recently. 

At one point, they end up at a Dave and Buster’s, something which pulls up uncomfortable memories of a time where he was younger and lobster meals weren't purged immediately afterwards. Charlie, Mac, and Frank gorge themselves on steaks while they talk about some plot or other. Dee gets a salad. 

Frank orders Dennis a steak too, but he only manages a few bites before pushing it away. His stomach feels unsettled. 

Dee catches him walking out of the bathroom afterwards, shaky and pale and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Her brows furrow in that way they've grown accustomed to doing lately, and that penetrative look almost makes him regret what he's just done. 

“You don't look well, Den.” She tells him softly. 

He pushes past the lump in his throat and the urge to sink into her waiting arms, instead curling his lip with distaste. 

“You’re one to talk. Leave me the fuck alone.”

She steps back, hurt, then stands a little taller. 

“Get some help. You clearly need it.”

Before he can force his sluggish brain to think of a retort, she’s walking back to the group and leaving him alone outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall for support. 

**

Rome wasn't built in a day, but it sure did burn in one. 

The shooting pains that begin in his back feel like the knives that brought Caesar’s death. His hands start to shake when he's trying to pour shots. He frequently trails off mid-conversation because everything in his brain is focused on survival, only the most basic life-preserving faculties retained. 

On his way back from the bar one day, he knows the fall of his own empire is imminent. Deep breaths no longer keep the spots in his vision at bay, and the gnawing feeling- that dread, yawning in the pit of his stomach- has turned into a constant screaming within. The urge to eat long since departed, but the nausea that replaced it grows to a fever pitch. 

“Hey, you okay?” Mac asks as they traverse the stairs to the apartment. Dennis realises belatedly that he's wheezing, the exact same god awful sound that issued from Mac’s lips when he was fat as shit. 

Is this his fate? To work himself to the bone for perfection and still be doomed to the same existence as a greed-ridden slob?

“M’ fine.” He answers through gritted teeth. Hauls himself up the final few stairs and through the door. 

“Are you sure? Because you kind of sound like you're dying, dude.”

For a moment, a sob threatens to bubble up from the depths of Dennis’ being. 

YES! Something deep inside screams. God, please help me, Mac, please for the love of God you have to fucking help me, I’m- something’s wrong, Mac, something's desperately wrong with me and I need you to-

“L-leave me alone.” He growls, breath whistling. His feet still carry him blindly towards the kitchen counter, somewhere he can lean against and regain some strength. 

Mac sighs. “Yeah… yeah, alright, fine.”

No. No. This isn't how it's supposed to go, Mac, you’re supposed to help me, why aren't you helping me, Mac?

Dennis takes another few steps forward, heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. 

Hummingbirds. He used to do those a lot, keeping himself in motion constantly. Perhaps now he's fully transcended past the need for hummingbirds- he’s becoming one himself. Everything within him is fluttering. 

His heart. 

His nerve. 

His… his eyelids…

He’s…. ohhhh, shiiittt…

“Dennis? Den?!”

His vision fades completely, and his knees buckle, but in the fuzzy darkness that consumes him, he still hears the muffled sounds of quick footsteps on wood, feels the comforting warmth of arms wrapping around his torso before he hits the ground. 

“Shit, shit, you’re okay, Den. I got you, man. You’re alright.”

For the first time in months, he hears himself sob, breathless and exhausted and guttural. Almost animalistic in its desperation to be heard, and yet so weak it probably comes out as no more than a choked whine. 

“Shhh, you’re alright… you’re alright… God, Den, you’re so fucking tiny.” Mac's words are wobbly, spoken through tears as his hand smoothes the hair back from Dennis’ forehead, stroking with all the gentleness that used to exist between them before the rot set in and everything changed. Decayed. I’m here now, though. I’m here now, I promise. I’ll peel you an apple, okay?”

His voice is nigh-on hysterical. 

“I’ll- I’ll peel you an apple, and everything will be okay, right, Den? Everything- everything will be okay.”

Dennis feels himself being lifted upwards, pulled limply into Mac’s arms. His eyes flutter open and the darkness dissipates for just a moment. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds. 

“I’ll peel you an apple, Den. I’ll peel you an apple and it’ll all be okay.”

[bi-buckrights]

Fic Stats 📊

Thanks for the tags my loves 💕 @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @loserdiaz

Rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words

Most hits: Kiss Me Before it’s Over (if only for a minute)

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable.

That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil.

Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin.

Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz.

… Until he doesn’t.

Baseball au my most beloved

Second most kudos: you and me here (underneath the mistletoe)

It’s fine. It’s just a kiss under the mistletoe. It’s a Christmas tradition, and in this case, just a joke. Not a big deal. He can play along – his only other choice is being weird about it, which sounds too much like revealing his feelings. So, he swallows it down and looks at Eddie who is still standing frozen, staring up at the mistletoe hanging above them.

Buck forces an easy smile. “C’mon, I’m not that bad,” he jokes. The tension in Eddie’s shoulders lessens a little and he laughs softly. “No. No you’re not,” he admits. “So, what do we do?”

Buck shrugs, trying to remain casual. “I guess we just suck it up and French a little.”

Third most comments: Bottled Poetry

“You want to take me on a weekend getaway… to a winery… for Valentine’s weekend?” Eddie clarifies, his mind spinning as he thinks of a weekend away with Buck, just the two of them.

“I got the weekend deal for free, Eddie! We have to go.”

“But” Eddie protests. “It’s meant for couples,” he says cautiously.

“C’mon Eddie, that just means we’ll get spoiled to extra wine and deserts and maybe be upgraded to a nicer room with a complimentary bottle of champagne,” Buck argues.

The fake dating winery fic ✨

Fourth most bookmarks: Our Love is Like a Storybook Story

“Fetch me that pitcher.” He says softly, nodding towards the pitcher hanging above his head along with other kitchen appliances. Eddie doesn’t look away, taking slow steps towards Buck until he is so close that Buck can feel Eddie’s breath on his face. Buck’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest as Eddie reaches for the pitcher, leaning closer into Buck’s space to do so. This close, Buck can see flecks of gold, like honey, in Eddie’s warm brown eyes. Eddie lowers the pitcher, placing it gently in Buck’s hands causing their fingers to brush.

“As you wish.” It comes out as a whisper, and Buck feels lightheaded at the softness of Eddie’s voice.

Aka the princess bride au

Fifth most words: Sometime Around Midnight

Every moment Buck feels as if he loves Eddie as much as possible, and every moment he’s proven wrong by falling even more in love. He’s proven wrong again as Eddie shifts so he’s facing Buck, lifting his leg onto the couch so that his shin is flush against Buck’s thigh, bringing them closer.

“Buck.” Eddie speaks his name quietly, like its something precious. And Buck falls even more as Eddie captures his gaze in those warm, brown eyes.

or:

A series of miscommunication leads to confusion and mistakes, until everything finally becomes clear.

My first fic ❤️

Least words: you are my sanctuary (you are my home)

Eddie sits at the other end of the couch, a cold beer in hand, watching the rise and fall of Buck’s chest – a reminder that Buck is alive, that he can breathe on his own. Buck’s arm is stretched across the back of the sofa, as if he’s creating space for Eddie, inviting him into arms.

He longs to lean into Buck and hold him close, to rest his head on Buck’s chest and hear his heartbeat, to feel the proof of life. But Buck needs to rest; Eddie opens up the second beer, and lets Buck sleep.

or;

Eddie has lots of feelings about Buck dying, Eddie's couch is Buck's sanctuary, and Eddie is Buck's home.

Tagging @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @spotsandsocks @911onabc @honestlydarkprincess @cowboy-buddie @disasterbuckdiaz @bekkachaos @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy

[thelasttime]

What other outros has she done for her other tour?

here's a couple:

"This crowd is giving me all the endorphins / I wish someone could rearrange my organs / Philly is the city I was born in."

“I just wanna ride him like a rodeo / But first he gotta grow it like Pinocchio / Sorry I’m so vulgar, San Antonio."

“I’ve got a personality but no tits / This song isn’t about Joshua Bassett / Los Angeles, your energy is big d*ck"

“Water ain’t the only thing I swallow / I really wish I could play here tomorrow / My favorite city is Chicago"

"Maybe you won’t date me but your dad will / Tonight I will be drinking who’s got Advil / Did you know I wrote this song in Nashville”