#let's call him Hank

[clownkillsy0u]

#anyways. my boyfriend is literally the best thing to ever happen to me tbh #i was having. a really rough time last night on call #and they were just. so sweet and gentle withme the whole time ): idk what i did to deserve him but god im never letting go akfkahdka #hank ifyoure reading this i lov e you so mjch snd thankyou for being patient withme

[workingwhileidream]

Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).

- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.

- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.

- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.

- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.

- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.

- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.

- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.

- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.

- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.

- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.

- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.

- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.

- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.

- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.

- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.

- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.

- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.

- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.

- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.

- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.

#dimension 20 #d20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 spoilers #dungeons and drag queens #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #the ravening war #mentopolis #misfits and magic #a crown of candy #burrow's end #neverafter #a starstruck odyssey #a court of fey and flowers

[studioghibelli]

bewitched, bothered, bewildered.

a joel miller x reader

summary: after your parents leave on a cruise for winter break, your best friend sarah invites you over to her house for the holidays. she failed to mention her father is the hottest man in the world.

warnings: best friends dad!joel, slight canon divergence as in Sarah is college aged come 2023, a big phat girthed up age gap, alcohol consumption, reader has just gotten out of a relationship, various media references, smut (fingering, female masturbation, f receiving oral, dirty talk, pet names, tiniest sir kink.) mdni!

note: this could be a series. i’m not too sure right now. let me know if you’d be interested in this as multiple parts!

You had never been to Texas before.

Tales of obnoxiously large barbecues, ten gallon hats, and vast, desert plains where rattlesnakes roamed freely filled your mind. Sticky sweet iced tea, kind old women who called everyone “honey”, and dry, arid heat were also things you associated with Texas.

And, sure, Texas was hot and humid as hell.

But it was beautiful.

While the plane made its final descent down to the Austin airport, your eyes took in the most beautiful sunset you had ever gazed upon, never before seeing oranges and reds quite as beautiful. By the time you deplaned, the deep navy of the night sky showcased millions of glimmering stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many stars. It must have been ages, but nonetheless they had ignited you with a sense of wonder.

“It’s about an hour, to my place.” Sarah warned, standing by your side as you both waited to catch sight of your luggage.

You nodded a bit, patiently looking to see your dark teal suitcase pass through the conveyor belt.

“Hey,” she nudged you in the side, causing you to glance her way. “Are you still thinking about your ex? Not good for you, so you better stop.”

“What if we were soulmates?” You grumbled, knowing how stupid you sounded. Your shoulders slumped forward. You didn’t actually think that idiot was the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but it was nice to have someone. To have… your person.

“If you two were soulmates, you wouldn’t have been broken up with. Now would you?” Sarah smiled sadly, gently patting your head. “Winter break is a month long. Who knows? Someone here might catch your eye!”

You rolled said eyes at her wiggling brows, grumbling beneath your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

“My dad has loads of hot guys working for him. They stop by the house sometimes, maybe you could…. I don’t know- waltz downstairs wearing a tight shirt and stick your ass out.” She wiggled her butt against you with a faux-seductive dance move.

“Sarah!” You laughed, gently pushing her shoulder.

“Dad says he should be here in about 5 minutes. Oh! There’s our bags.”

You grabbed your luggage in unison, lugging them off the machine before rolling through the crowds of people, no doubt travelling to and fro for the holidays.

“Look for a black Chevy!” She warned as you walked outside.

“I don’t know what that looks like!” You shouted earnestly, over the hustle and bustle of the pick up area.

Sarah looked at you, before rolling her eyes with a laugh. “There he is!” She waved both her hands towards a truck in the distance. You watched as it pulled to the curb, windows tinted black. When the driver door opened you heard Hank Williams crooning from the stereo, still unable to see the figure that was Sarah’s dad.

The shadow on the sidewalk was broad as it made its way towards the two of you, and when you finally dragged your eyes up, you saw Joel Miller in all his glory.

Tall, rugged, a little rough around the edges- but undeniably handsome. He wore a regular tan crew neck underneath a brown flannel, jeans spread out tight against his thick thighs, with the pointed toes of two leather boots sticking out. His dark hair, littered with strands of drool worthy gray, was slicked back from a fresh shower, one stray curl managing to sneak its way out.

And when he stepped closer, you smelled him. God, you smelled him. He wore just the right amount of cologne, and it made your knees weak. Joel smelled like woody vanilla, swirling with cracks of cardamom and whiffs of lavender tinted flowers of iris. You almost moaned. He smelled delicious.

Joel greeted Sarah, but quite honestly you were too overwhelmed to hear anything they were saying. And then he turned to you.

You.

“Hello.” He smiled a bit, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite pin point. “I’m Joel. It’s real nice to have you stayin’ with us.”

You smiled. A real smile. He was kind, too? What a fucking dream. “Thank you.” After telling him your name you went to pick up your luggage, before a hand grabbed your arm gently.

His hand. Well worked, rough, calloused- an honest pair of hands that were scarred by a lifetime of hard work. Honorable hands. Sexy hands.

“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ a pretty thing like you lift that suitcase all by herself. You’re in Texas now, honey. Don’t you know we practically invented gentlemen down here?” He joked, grabbing your bag and tenderly sitting it down in the bed of his Chevy.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll just let you do everything for me, since you’re a gentleman and such.” You teased. You watched the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.

“Well, you might just have to, darlin’.” With a wink that made your belly tighten, he opened the door for you, and you joined Sarah in the backseat.

“Dad, what the hell are you listening to?”

“Hank Williams.” You both said in unison. He put his eyes on you from the mirror, winking at you.

“Bring this one around more, Sarah. I like her.”

Sarah smiled, looking at you with love sparkling in her eyes. The kind of love that only existed between two bonded women, the kind of love that only two girls in a deep, genuine friendship could share. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Dad, you know she just got dumped.”

“Sarah!” You guffawed. And that special moment was over. Tenderness now replaced with annoyance.

“Who got broken up with?”

Sarah nudged her head towards you.

“Her?!” He spoke incredulously. As if Joel could not wrap his head around the idea of someone ever leaving you.

You buried your hot face in your hands, mumbling a bit. “Was a fucking jerk.” You grumbled after a long moment of silence, pulling away from your palms to look out the window, watching the city pass by.

“Must have been, breakin’ your heart.”

“Dad, you have no clue. So it all started-” As Sarah started explaining your past relationship and breakup, you watched the backdrop of Austin rush past your window.

Beautiful buildings shimmering in the night, the distant noise of the city clamoring, vibrant grass and trees scattered about. It was stunning, alive, noisy. It was nothing like what people had described Texas as. And the only person who had called you ‘honey’ so far, was your best friend’s hot dad.

You pulled away from where you looked, coming back in to reality. Sarah was still going on and on with her drama spilling. Joel was still listening, or at least looked like he was listening. His plush lips were cemented into a tight line, eyes dark and focused on the highway ahead. He met your gaze in his rearview mirror once again, and the tightness of his furrowed brow softened momentarily. You offered him a hint of a smile, and he gladly took it.

“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks you. You didn’t quite catch his question. You were examining how his hands looked around the steering wheel as he turned it, the way the pad of his thumb caressed the leather, the way his thighs looked spread out against the brown of the sleek seat. God. Was it normal to wish you were a fucking steering wheel?

You clenched your thighs together. You wondered if he noticed. He seemed rather perceptive.

“I’m sorry sir, what did you ask, Mr. Miller?”

Joel swallowed thickly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Joel, please. Call me Joel. I asked what you’re studyin’, back at school.”

Sarah laughed a bit, not looking up from her phone. “What isn’t she studying?”

You grinned a toothy grin at the comment. “It’s true. I’ve changed my major loads of times. I started with French, then anthropology. Now I’m stuck between film and history. There are a lot of things I love learning about. I just…. want to see the world, experience it all.” You explained softly, looking out the window as you thought. “It’s kind of hard to focus on one thing when your heart is all over the place. Y’know?”

Joel nodded a bit, clearing his throat. “You sound way smarter than me. Been contractin’ my whole life. Nothin’ special like French or history.” You giggled to yourself at the way he pronounced ‘French’, his Texan accent thick on the syllables.

“Contracting is honest work. Takes a big, strong man, you know? It can’t be easy. I admire that.” You hummed. Your eyes met once again. Joel’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, nostrils slightly flared.

Sarah was none the wiser, scrolling through her phone. You hummed a bit, settling in to your seat. By the time you looked at Sarah, she was passed out, fast asleep.

“So,” Joel began, turning on to a dirt road. You saw a few cows in the pasture fast asleep, the moon hanging above them. It looked like something from a storybook. “You heartbroken’ over this break up?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t…. really know. It’s just weird…. it’s- it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Like, yeah, I was cheated on, then dumped. But we did everything together. Went out, grabbed dinner, saw movies. I just don’t know what to fill that up with. I do all those things with Sarah, obviously, but it’ll still be weird. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” You huffed out a breath of air you had been holding, shrugging a bit. “Probably sounds stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid.” Joel reassured softly, his deep voice rumbled like a song through your ears, filling your mind with symphonies and day dreams. Day dreams of feeling his mouth on your own, hearing that voice from behind your back while he took you- wait, what? No! He was Sarah’s dad! You shook the thoughts away. “Don’t uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad for feelin’ any sort of way. Alright?”

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, you nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

You laughed. “Star Wars! I love Star Wars.” You cooed, rubbing a hand down your cheek in an attempt to stifle your giggles.

“Sarah would never watch it with me. Been beggin’ her for years.” Joel admitted through a cracked grin.

“Well, I’ll watch it with you.”

Joel shot you that glance once more. “I’d like that.”

Was it a date? No. Surely not? Stop getting ahead of yourself! You took in a deep, shaky breath, gulping down a thick lump that had been forming. No. Calm down. There was no way.

Sarah woke up with a yawn, smiling when she realized the truck had finally pulled in to the driveway.

Joel helped you all unload your things, showing you to the guest room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Fridge, drinks. In the garage we got beers and some of them fruity mixers that Sarah likes. Our home is your home.” He explained, extending that Southern hospitality that you had heard so much about.

You felt your body warming up. “Thank you.”

“And, uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost nervously. “I’ll be downstairs in the livin’ room watchin’ some movies, if you want to join me.”

WHAT?!

“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” You said calmly, stiffly, and definitely not using a oh-my-god-did-he-really-say-that tone of voice. Nope. Not you. Not at all.

“Don’t feel pressured or nothin’. Just a thought.”

Before you could respond, Joel had walked through the hall and down the stairs. You threw on your pajamas, a simple pair of fleece bottoms and a tank top, rolling the thought over in your head. It would be nice, to sit next to him, hear his laugh, cast glances at his side profile. But you weren’t too sure if you could be trusted. Just out of a relationship, full of emotion, irrevocably attracted to this man….. No. No. It wasn’t a good idea. What if you did something you regretted?

So you climbed in to bed, shutting your eyes tight.

And then thirty minutes passed, and your eyes were wide open.

And then an hour passed, and your eyes were still wide opened.

What-fucking-ever.

You threw the covers off with a huff and walked out of your room, quiet as not to wake Sarah. She had had a rough finals week, and you knew she needed a good night’s rest. You on the other hand? Your body was aflame, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree by Joel’s charming laugh, perfect hands, stern face. God. Why was he so attractive? So alluring? You buried your face in your hands as you shuffled down the hallway.

You were really doing this.

You reached the couch, and saw Joel watching the television, strong arm thrown across the back of it.

“Uhm, Mr- Uh, Joel?”

He turned to look at you, and you noticed a smirk tease the corner of his lips. “Well, hello darlin’. Started to think you weren’t goin’ to take me up on my offer.” Joel patted the empty space beside him. The couch was small, meant for two people.

You weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, well.” You let out a nervous giggle, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so.”

“Oh. So you’re tellin’ me I’m your rebound?” He joked.

“Yeah. Sorry… I’m real desperate these days.” You teased back, holding an embroidered pillow to your chest.

Joel chuckled a deep, beautiful, throaty chuckle, his arm not moving from the back of the couch, brushing every so often against your shoulder blades. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, turning to look at you.

“Sure.” You smiled softly at him, eyes lingering for a few beats to long. He shook his head a bit, as though he were thinking something he really shouldn’t be thinking, before looking away. A moment of awkward silence fell between you two.

Without missing a beat, he slapped his hands on his knees through a deep sigh, getting up and walking to the garage. When he came back, he had a six pack of beer in one hand, and a box of pre-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris in the other.

“Didn’t know which one to grab for you. A bit of everythin’, I suppose.” He sat the cartons in front of you, and you opted for the Daiquiri.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “Anythin’ sound good?”

You hummed out in thought, eyeing all the movies. “Oh! Stepbrothers! That’s a good one.”

He looked at you. “Really?” He teased dryly.

“Sarah and I quote it all the time.”

Joel nodded for a moment, before turning to you, a serious look on his face. “Did you… touch my drum set?”

A long bout of silence passed, before you took in a deep breath and looked up at him. “No.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue. “It’s just weird, cause it seems like someone definitely touched my drum set.”

“Yeah, that is weird, cause I didn’t touch them.”

You stared at each other intensely, both feigning fake anger, before you broke out into giggles. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“So, Stepbrothers then-”

“Oh!” You cut him off excitedly. “Look! The Empire Strikes Back!”

He hummed in agreement, clicking it on. You both got settled in, your shoulder touching his side, his arm thrown behind your back again. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and you took in the scene around you.

A small living room, a flat screen propped on a wooden console that looked handmade, a nice rug spread out over the hardwood floors. There were some car magazines on the table, a pair of work boots sitting in the corner. It smelled like him, and his electrifying cologne. It felt like him, too. Masculine, woody, comfortable. It was incredible.

You had finished the box of drinks before the end of the movie, and by the time Han Solo was frozen solid in his fancy little fridge, you were crying your eyes out.

Not because of the movie.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel’s eyes slightly widened as he turned to you. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled, face planting in to his chest. You were tipsy, the newest recipient of a so called broken heart, and he was warm. So, so warm. Without missing a beat, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, his grip tight and secure. You had never felt more protected, more wanted, more cared for.

“Shh, it’s okay.” His long fingers ran through your hair, gentle and soothing. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m such an idiot.” You grumbled into his husky chest, no doubt leaving a stain of tears. “I should have seen it coming. Everyone warned me about… about… even Sarah knew. But I didn’t listen. And now I’m here, crying to my best friend’s dad who is way too hot for his own good, full of all these feelings, and-and-….. oh, fuck.” You realized what had spilled from your mouth, pulling away sheepishly and stuffing the pillow in your face.

Joel sat for a moment, wordlessly, slowly looking at you. He gently pushed the pillow away before his index and thumb grabbed your chin, demanding and gentle, tilting your gaze to meet his own. “Too hot for my own good, huh?”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. You wanted to recoil away, maybe throw up a little. You wanted to climb beneath the couch and die there. Anything but own up to your words.

“It’s okay. Think you’re the first of Sarah’s friends to get a little crush on me?” He joked softly, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

A pinch of jealousy surged through you. It wasn’t making you feel any better. You sniffled loudly, your eyelashes fluttering.

“I will say, you are the first of Sarah’s friends I’ve…. well, you’re beautiful. And smart. And, you know.” Joel paused, clearing his mind. He was usually much better with his words. “Look, darlin’. I like you, a lot. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anythin’, but I can help with that broken heart of yours.”

A gulp of air caught in your chest. With shaking hands, you gently grabbed his own, pulling him closer to you. A deep breath, and then: “Please. Help me forget.”

Joel chuckled, his palm dragging down the side of your body. “I can do that.”

His lips met yours. Hungry, passionate, deep. Joel kissed you like he’d never kiss again, and you happily let him, lips parting, heart mending. He pushed you down onto the soft couch with his weight hovering above your own, fingers tangling into your hair. He wanted you. All of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, hand moving down to your pajama pants.

“Please.” It came out choked, a plea, a prayer.

He pushed your pants down, allowing you to kick them off, before his palm found your core. Hot, soaked, weeping for him. He groaned, gently rubbing your swollen clit from behind the material of your underwear.

“God damn, girl.” He smirked, eyes darkening. “This all for me?”

You nodded meekly, the inside of your cheek caught between your molars. “Touch me.” You begged.

“Here?” He whispered, his thumb dragging across your soaked slit, over the cotton material.

“Anywhere. Just, please- make me cum.”

“Oh, I’ll make you cum alright, girl. But you’re going to have to stay quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pushed your legs back, slipping between them as he lowered himself, now face to face with your pussy. Joel slipped your underwear to the side, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking your clit in his mouth. You shuddered at the contact, groaning softly.

“I think,” he whispered quietly, your ears straining to hear him, “I want you to rub this pretty clit while I finger fuck your pussy.”

You groaned softly, eyes blown wide and dark, as you slowly sat yourself up on your elbows. “Ye-yes sir.” It just slipped out. You were too horny to care.

A guttural hiss seeped through his teeth. “I like that.” He warned deeply. “Go on, rub it for me.”

You lowered your shaking hand, the tip of your index slowly tracing up the length of your clit. It was screaming, begging, throbbing for any semblance of pleasure.

Joel’s eyes were on you.

He was inspecting your every movement like a panther stalking its prey, eyes full of lust, tongue dripping with desire.

You took in a sharp breath before rubbing your bud between your index and middle finger, a soft breath leaving you.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised, middle finger sinking in to your tight cunt. Joel sighed out a string of curses. “You’re fuckin’ tight, baby. That little pussy is drippin’ for me.”

“For you.” You whispered.

He looked up at you as he kissed your thigh, biting down on the soft, supple flesh. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”

You threw your head back at his words, hips bucking. You felt your orgasm growing nearer, stomach tensing. Joel pushed your hand away, and you jerked your head to look at him, so quick it almost gave you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.” He leaned forward, sucking at your clit again, his tongue swirling and flattening against it. Joel knew what he was doing.

As his finger still hit inside of you, you brought your hands down to his hair, tugging at his curls, the once slicked style now rampant and messy. You tried to stop yourself from moaning too loud, fearful of waking Sarah, but how could you not?

Joel fucking Miller, the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, was worshipping your pussy. You shivered, thighs clenching.

He was worshipping your pussy.

His hot tongue felt like Heaven against you, and Joel was eating you like a starved man, like your cunt was the nectar of the gods. He did what your ex had never done before- he made you feel wanted, made you feel desired.

Joel moaned into your pink flesh, sucking and licking, nibbling and swirling, until your stomach grew tight with a looming climax.

God, he was good at this.

“Gonna cum. G-gonna cum, Jo- oh, oh. Oh.” You hummed out in relief as your orgasm washed over you, eyes widening as he continued licking, sucking, finger fucking- he didn’t care that you were getting sensitive. All he cared about was you. Your sweet pussy, delicious cum, soft folds- he wanted all of it.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He whispered, bringing himself away from your core. “Sweet little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your cheeks heated, and you slowly sat up, legs still shaking. “Jesus Christ.”

Joel chuckled, reaching towards you as he fixed a few strands of messy hair. “Yeah, Jesus Christ.”

You stared at one another for a moment before he tackled you with a deep kiss, hungry and crazed. You wasted no time kissing back, feeling the outline of his cock on your bare thigh. You gasped for air at the touch, already knowing he was big, thick, perfect.

Your hand was moving towards his shirt before the hallway light switched on.

“Fuck. Here.” He tossed you your pants and you quickly slipped them on, resuming your positions on the couch as normally as possible.

As Sarah walked down the stairs, your chest tightened with a sudden realization.

This was going to be a great winter break… if you made it out in one piece, that is.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[macfrog]

grilled cowboy like me chapter three

part iii of dbf!joel! parts i here and ii here. ask, dear readers, and you shall receive. i do just wanna also add a massive thank you to you guys for all the love on this series. every single like, reblog, reply, etc. means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this next chapter 💚 reader got joel quaking !!! 🥵

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel knows he shouldn't be looking at you the way he is, but you look so pretty on your knees; how can he say no?

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (m receiving), praise kink, jealous/protective joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter. You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize – That’s exactly what you want him to do.

You spend a few more minutes up in your room before you follow Joel out the door and downstairs. You’re a little flustered, okay? Your dad’s best friend just had you literally wrapped around his fingers, and now you both gotta head off to a friendly neighborhood barbecue you’re supposed to be hosting. All smiles. All, Anyone need a refill? All, No, I haven’t just totally been fooling around with Joel Miller.

The house is empty and voices feed in from the backyard. You push aside the shades and step out onto the bright patio, where a few of your neighbors are sitting. Joel stands between Hank and Rita’s chairs, and you amble over to his side.

You sense his body tensing as soon as you reach him, your shoulder brushing off of his deliberately.

“Hello, my girl,” Rita calls, taking one of your wrists in her frail hands. “I sure am glad to see you back on home turf.”

You smile a little awkwardly, placing a hand on top of hers. “It’s nice to see you, too. How’ve you been?”

“Still livin’, honey, still livin’.”

She lets go of you when Hank takes her up in conversation, and your attention turns back to Joel.

“Busy, huh? Lotta people came.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, taking a step away from you and folding his arms. You eyes skim across the new distance between you both, noting it.

“Joel, your Sarah,” Rita swivels to face him, “she’s home soon, right?”

Joel nods. “The seventeenth.”

Hank gives a nod. “It’ll be a fine summer havin’ both you girls back home.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting around the patio. He spots Bill across the pool, by your dad’s work shed, and excuses himself. You track him as he makes off, and feel your face reddening.

Your dad’s head and shoulders materialize through the sliding door to the kitchen and he calls on you, beckoning you in. You hesitantly wander over, a cloud of shame forming over your head that you hope he can’t see.

“Bill’s beer,” he adds a Coors to a tray filled with glasses and bottles, “Marcia’s iced tea, a Coke for Sam…Joel– Shoot, we ain’t got Joel anythin’. Reckon he’ll touch Coors?”

You flinch at the mention of his name, and instantly try to recover it. “I wouldn’t know, why would I know that?”

Your dad’s hands lift like you’ve aimed a shotgun at him. “Alright, cranky, jeez. Go back to bed, get out the right side this time. Here.”

He lifts the tray and slowly passes it over the island to you, the glass trembling.

“…you remember, now? Bill – beer, Marcia – iced tea, Sam–”

“– Coke, yeah, I got it. Go take a Xanax, dad, your hair’s fallin’ out.”

“And ask Joel what he’s after!” he calls as you slip out of the sliding door.

Marcia sits beside her daughter, Lisa, on the pool loungers. You bend your knees and lower the tray for her to reach her drink.

“Thank you, honey.” She grins gratefully as she lifts it off the shaking tray and you return her smile, then continue on.

Bill is stood at the other end of the garden with Joel, arms crossed, both listening to some story Arthur Kennedy’s telling about a mechanic he works with. Arthur Kennedy always kinda scared you, was always loud and drunk. Your dad and Joel used to deliberately come up with excuses to keep you and Sarah away from him at parties.

This time is no different. You approach the group of men from Joel’s right side, dipping behind his back to stand between him and Bill, safely separated from the raving storyteller.

“He says he’d just oiled it, I said, Benny, that engine’s drier ‘n a nun’s nasty!”

He erupts into a roar of laughter despite the silence of his companions, and you nudge the tray against Bill’s arm.

“Oh, darlin’,” he says, turning to you and giving you an affectionate smile as he lifts the beer. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You smile back. Bill can be gruff, a bit of a loner, but he’s always had a soft spot for you.

“How you doin’?” he asks, taking a swig.

You nod. “Good. Back workin’ at Sal’s, so…living the dream.”

You can feel Arthur’s stare on you like the hot sun. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, tray tucked under your elbow against your hip.

“I’ll bet,” Bill says. “He got you workin’ hard?”

“Not really. It’s a pretty quiet store. Uh, Dad wanted me to ask,” you turn to Joel, whose eyes are glued to the ground, “what you’re drinkin’?”

He shakes his head, palm hooked around the back of his neck. “I’ll get my own. Thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon Joelie,” Arthur taunts. You try to avoid looking him in the eye out of fear he’ll take you up on it, but he does it anyways. “Why don’t you just let this pretty little waitress of ours bring you a drink? Since she’s bein’ so sweet ‘n offerin’.”

Your eyes flit to Joel. His jaw is tense, his eyes dark as he stares down Arthur.

“You know what,” he says through his teeth, “I’ll take a Bud. C’mon, you’ll know where they are, right?”

“Wh– We didn’t get any–”

“Be in the fridge, I’ll bet.” He takes your arm and pulls you away from the duo, who resume conversation as you leave.

You’re hauled back into the kitchen so fast that you almost drop Sam’s soda.

“Joel, be careful!”

He lets go of your arm and watches Arthur from the kitchen window. “Scumbag,” he mutters.

“Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” you ask, throwing the tray onto the counter. “Didn’t we have a whole argument in the store about me not gettin’ Bud?”

“Just had to get you away from him, talkin’ like that. Guy pisses me off,” Joel huffs.

“Who pisses you off?” your dad calls, appearing from the bathroom.

Joel shoots him a look. “Arthur Kennedy. What’s he doin’ here?”

“I couldn’t not invite him; I know he’s a dirtball. You stay away from him.” He points a finger at you.

“Very good,” Joel replies. “Great plan. Make it her problem to keep the pervert off her tail.”

“Pervert?” You scoff.

“You don’t hear him at Frank’s!” Joel rounds on you now, and you raise your eyebrows. “That waitress line wasn’t even half of it.”

Your dad chuckles, patting Joel’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll keep an eye on it.” He wanders out to the patio.

Joel’s still full of rage. You watch him, not sure whether to move closer or let him calm down on his own.

“I think you’re probably overreacting a little. It was a creepy line, and I won’t be goin’ near him anyways, but it’s fine. I can dodge Arthur Kennedy.”

“Shouldn’t need to. Shouldn’t be put in that position.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat to the surface, shoulders hunched, breathing deep. He looks like a wild bear, like he could rip Arthur Kennedy limb from limb if only he’d just stroll through the sliding door.

You decide to give him some time to cool off.

“I gotta get this Coke to Sam. You good?”

“I’ll be fine,” he snaps, and you take that as your cue to dip.

When you reappear into the sunlight, a pair of hands clamp down on your shoulders, making you jump.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Sam!” you cry, clutching your chest. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Here, idiot.”

You hand him the soda, and he tilts it in your direction, a thank-you in the form of a toast.

“I’ve been meaning to drop by Frank’s since I got home, come pay you a visit.”

“I’ll get you a drink on the house when you do.” Sam smiles, blonde fringe gleaming in the sun.

“So, how’s it going?” you ask.

“It’s…going.” He laughs. “Was just talking to Hank about college courses. Figured I might apply. This bartending life is not for me.”

“Do it. Come be a graduate with me. I got a degree, forty grand of debt, and absolutely no prospects!”

Sam laughs. “Nah, you got a brain, you’re gonna work somethin’ out.”

You both take seats by the pool to catch up. Sam’s a nice guy; he was in your circle of friends at school, and, like Anna, always stayed in Austin while you and the rest up and left.

Your dad always thought he had a thing for you, being that he was male and you two were close, and your dad’s an old-fashioned man who doesn’t believe any good can come from two people of opposite genders being friends. But Sam’s a sweet guy, and his being here pushes Joel’s sudden change in behavior a little further back in your mind.

“I’m working later on, so I’m only staying for an hour or so. My mom says hi, by the way.”

“Hi right back. Is she doing okay?”

“Fine! She’s fine. As fine as she can be, I think. Y’know, my dad leaving wasn’t too great. She took it pretty hard. But we’re settled into the new place, she’s doing good. Do you…Did you scratch yourself, or somethin’?”

He points underneath your hair to the side of your neck and your fingers run across the skin, wincing a little over a particular spot under your jaw. A memory flashes before your eyes as the sensitive skin tingles and your eyes instantly lock on the culprit: emerging from the kitchen door, beer in hand, dark eyes scanning the garden for you.

When you lock eyes, he makes a passive expression and wanders off in the opposite direction.

“Uh– No, that’s weird. Well, I had a nap earlier. I might have scratched myself in my sleep, y’know?”

Sam narrows his eyes. He’s twenty-three, dumbass, he’s not an idiot.

You smile sweetly at him and scrape together some reason to excuse yourself, dashing off to the bathroom to examine Joel’s handiwork.

It’s only a little red, probably more noticeable in the sunlight, but still, you grab some concealer and dab it over the mark. Feeling exhausted from running around and pretty pissed off with Joel, you march back outside and throw yourself into a chair beside Hank.

“Your dad knows how to cook a burger,” he tells you, holding a napkin to his mouth. “Delicious.”

“I’ll grab one in a bit. Not really hungry.”

You spend a little time chatting with Hank and Rita, answering their questions about college, telling anecdotes about work, asking about Anna’s makeup business.

“That girl,” Hank shakes his head, “there ain’t no tellin’ her. I’m just her ol’ uptight dad.”

All the while you periodically glance up, across the pool to Joel, and each time, he’s staring right back.

When you get up to grab some food, his eyes follow you. When Sam pulls you in for a hug to say goodbye, he’s watching. When Arthur stumbles over to sit across from Hank, Joel’s figure appears like an apparition at the side of him. Across the table, an appropriate distance away, but keeping an eye on you.

It fills you with equal parts thrill and frustration.

You find yourself laughing extra hard at Bill’s comments, leaning your head on Marcia’s shoulder, leaping to your feet anytime Hank wants a refill, or Rita asks you to light her cigarette. All to get to Joel. All so he has to watch you be unbothered by him for the entire night.

The garden is darker, porch light attracting moths and flies, but a small group of your neighbors sits congregated under blankets on the patio still. You’re talking about New York with Lisa when you notice Joel lean in to your dad across the table.

“I’m gonna head, early start tomorrow,” he says, getting up from his seat.

“You remember your gas tank, Joel,” your dad tells him, nodding over to the grilling station.

“Hey.” You feel a nudge on your shoulder and look up to find his brown eyes looking down into yours. “Give me a hand, would ya? Loadin’ this into the truck.”

“You got it out just fine on your own.”

He calls you by name, and you know from his stern expression he’s serious.

You stand, shaking the blanket from your shoulders, and follow him over to the barbecue. He detaches the tank and picks it up. You wrap your fingers around the handle beside Joel’s, but when the two of you waddle out the back gate, you can feel he has most of the weight.

You reach his truck, shrouded in darkness from the dusk. He hands you the keys from his back pocket and you drop the tailgate, then Joel hoists the tank up by himself and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“What’d you even need me for?”

“Been weird today. Wanted to check you were alright.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You groan. “Are you talking to me or not?”

“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya.”

“Then stop being an asshole, okay? I’m bored of asshole Joel. I want my Joel back.”

He looks at you almost solemnly.

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about what happened upstairs, we don’t have to, but–”

“’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then what is it?”

The floodlight over the garage switches on and your back gate clicks open. Your dad ushers Rita out, coat draped over her shoulders.

“Just walkin’ Rita home,” your dad calls.

“See ya, hon!”

You wave. “Bye, Rita.”

When you turn back, Joel’s making his way toward the truck door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” you mutter under your breath, and silently storm back into the house.

You hear his truck pull away as you throw yourself down onto your bed. Fucking livid.

Alright, you agreed nothing happened. But then Joel went and started acting like something totally happened. If anyone had caught on to the way he was acting, they’d for sure know something was up.

The anger rolls around in your stomach; his avoiding you, the way he kicked off when Arthur made that comment, the way his eyes followed you around the garden afterward.

And worst of all, you fucking liked it. You liked him protecting you, didn’t you? You liked the way he couldn’t help himself, had to make sure you were out of reach of any danger. You liked peering over Sam’s shoulder to find his gaze frozen on you.

You sit up, hands either side of your hips on your mattress. You look down and notice what they’re resting on.

Joel’s flannel shirt.

You’re halfway out the door, shirt in your fist, before you even have time to breathe. You run into your dad in the driveway.

“Woah, woah, where we off to?”

“Joel forgot his shirt.”

“I’m sure he can do without it for a few days, kiddo.”

“I’ll just take it back to ‘im,” you call, hopping in your car before he has time to protest.

You’re at Joel’s in five minutes.

Knocking and waiting for him to answer might ruin the argumentative vibe you’re trying to set, so you fling his front door open and walk straight into his hallway.

The house sits in complete darkness, save for a small light flooding in from the room at the end of the hall. You wander up to it and find Joel sat at his kitchen table, staring down at some contract papers on the wood. Aside from the dull light over his head, the kitchen is dark, orange tinge on the walls from the streetlights outside.

He doesn’t flinch when your shoe scuffs his tile floor. Instead, he just flips the papers back over and sighs.

“Subtlety not in your nature, is it, kid?”

“You left this.” You throw the shirt onto the table.

His eyes scan over it. “Thought I told you to keep it.”

“Oh,” you sit down opposite him, “my mistake. I thought you meant keep it until you’d had your way with me. Thought once you’d dumped me I was to hand the flannel back.”

“Dumped you?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “Hm.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to dump you. I didn’t mean for you to feel…dumped.”

“The most you talked to me all afternoon was to give me a grilling about Arthur Kennedy. All you did was stare at me, then ask me to help you carry a gas tank at the very end of the night.”

He scratches his beard, considering what you’re saying.

“I mean, I thought we agreed to act like it didn’t happen,” you continue, “I thought we were fine.”

“Fine? You think what we did was fine?”

You struggle to find words to reply. Sure, it was better than fine. And at the same time, it was a terrible idea.

“We…We were…We were just messing around.”

Joel almost laughs. “Messin’ around.”

“Yeah,” you protest. “I liked it, you looked like you liked it. What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. If we do this, if we’re ‘messin’ around’…what makes me any different to…to Arthur Kennedy? Hm? Just another creep on the street, hangin’ around and flirtin’ with girls far too young for ‘im?”

“The difference is I actually want you to do it, Joel.”

His expression drops. He stands up, shoving the chair back, and wanders off toward the kitchen counter.

You twist around to watch him. “I want this. And I’m twenty-three fucking years old, I can decide for myself. Arthur is, like, sixty years old, anyway. And he ain’t even a good sixty – he’s all grey, wrinkly skin, greasy hair like he doesn’t know how to work his own shower–”

“Alright, kid, we’re digressin’ here.” Joel waves his hand.

You snap back to reality and shake your head to clear it of Arthur Kennedy’s leathery skin. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“What’s not?” You stand.

“This. Us. You ‘n me.”

“And did you decide this before or after you fucked around with me in my bedroom?”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and turning away. He places one hand on his hip, the other to the bridge of his nose.

“I mean…” You throw your arms up, finally at breaking point. “What are you doing to me?”

Your tone forces him to turn back. When your expression matches it, he approaches you, gently cupping your face in both hands.

“I’m tryin’ to rein this in a little, baby. I’m tryna be the responsible one here. You know how hard it is not to give in to this? To you?”

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter.

You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize –

That’s exactly what you want him to do.

Your head falls limp in his grasp. “Then, stop trying.”

Joel’s eyes trace over your face; down the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over to where your jaw meets his rough hands. He’s tossing the thought of it over in his head like a penny. Only there’s no right answer.

Heads, you call it off, and lose any chance of ever knowing what this is between you guys. Tails, you fall down the rabbit hole; secret, clandestine, forbidden rabbit hole, and risk losing…well, everything.

Is it worth that risk? Just to feel him on you again? To feel his lips across yours, hungry, demanding, his hips grinding into you, his hands all over you, the way he looks at you as you cum for him…

Suddenly, like the realization hits him at the exact same time as it does you, Joel’s eyes darken.

Yeah. It’s fucking worth it.

His grip becomes rough, shifting from your jaw to around your throat. He pulls you toward him, lips connecting, and your hands press against his chest.

His grasp drops, squeezing your hips, before one hand leaves to settle between your legs. He just can’t get enough, can he?

“Uh-uh,” you mumble against his mouth, “you had your taste earlier. It’s my turn.”

You push him back against the counter. He’s staring at you with nothing but lust behind his eyes. Without a word, you sink down, knees hitting the cold tile.

“Baby…” Joel hums when your hands find his belt buckle. You smirk at his voice; you’re too good to be true to him. Like he can’t believe what’s about to happen.

You undo his belt and pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. Then your fingers undo his jeans, almost tearing them apart by the zipper with your eagerness to see him.

As you pull the denim over his hips, you feel his hand softly rest on the crown of your head. A quick glance up tells you he’s watching every single thing you’re doing, lapping it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

You can see the bulge through his boxers; it’s big. Bigger than you imagined, even with your hand stuffed down your panties.

You place a gentle kiss to his thigh and pull the waistband of his underwear down, and his cock springs free. You gasp a little at the size of it, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of precum on his tip.

Your hands wrap around it, clutching his girth. You pump him a few times in your hands and he tips his head back, mouth agape. His free hand grips the counter, steadying himself.

His tip oozes more precum and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently. Joel groans, audibly. The most audible you’ve heard him yet. It drives you insane.

You push your lips down his shaft, his cock filling up your mouth to your throat before you even reach the bottom. You push down as far as your throat will allow before releasing him with a pop, saliva mixed with Joel all over your lips.

“Good girl,” he’s mumbling, eyes still screwed shut, hand still knotting in your hair.

You drag your tongue along the underside of his dick, closing your eyes. All you can think is Joel, all you can taste, smell, and breathe is him. Completely dumb for this man, cock stretching your mouth so good.

When you take him in down to your throat again, he begins moving his hips; fucking your mouth. You steady yourself, hands on his upper thighs, and let him, trying not to lower your hand to your cunt to relieve the ache quickly growing there.

The sounds he’s making are enough to make you cum by themselves. He’s panting, moaning, breathing your name, groaning whenever your cheeks hollow and you suck until he’s so close he pulls you off.

“Wanna take my time, baby. You’re doing so good.”

You pull him back into your mouth. He tastes like sweat and salt and Joel. He tastes perfect.

When he bumps the back of your throat and you gag a little, you notice Joel’s head snap down to check on you. His grip on your hair loosens, and you softly gaze back at him, eyes blown with lust, to let him know you’re okay.

You drag your lips off of his head, a string of saliva still linking your mouth to his reddened tip. You’re panting now, half-turned on, half-tired from accommodating the size of him between your jaw.

Your palms wrap around his length again, pumping and twisting slowly while your tongue flicks over his head. He grits his teeth, both hands now against the countertop, knuckles whitening the longer you go on.

When you let go of him and dip your head down to take his whole cock in your throat, he lets out a deep groan.

“Keep goin’, baby, keep doin’ that,” he’s groaning, your head bobbing up and down. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

His hand falls to the back of your head and he applies a little pressure, fucking into you again.

When you begin to feel him jerk, you lean back, hands helping him to his high as you hold his head to your bottom lip.

Joel’s hand never leaves your head as his cock twitches, filling your throat and coating your tongue in warm, salty cum. He’s calling your name, breath heaving and hips shuddering.

His length slides out of your mouth. When his orgasm subsides, he watches you lick your lips and swallow his load, before tucking his softening dick under his boxers and pulling his jeans back up.

You watch in a distant haze of ecstasy as Joel does his pants up himself and takes your chin in his hand.

Breathing heavy, you look up at him, eyes hooded. Waiting for permission to stand.

“C’mere,” he whispers, and your tired legs hoist you back up to height.

He envelops you in his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead and letting you lean into his chest.

You let your eyes fall closed as you breathe each other in.

“So good to me,” Joel mumbles against your forehead, and you lazily smile.

You could let him carry you up to his bed and fall asleep right then and there, you think. That is, until you hear your phone vibrating on the table.

“Fuck,” you groan, and Joel releases you from his grasp.

“Just makin’ sure you ain’t dead,” your dad chirps down the line.

“I’m still at Joel’s,” you reply, “just leavin’.”

“Don’t you be keepin’ him, you hear?”

You pretend not to, and get him off the phone as quickly as possible. When you turn back around, Joel’s stood with a smirk on his face.

“Go on. Don’t want to make him suspicious.”

You skip over and place a kiss to his lips, and he runs a hand through your hair.

“Like I said, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Just messing around,” he says.

----------

As you approach the front door, you pause for a second and compose yourself. Glance in the window to check your reflection, take a deep breath. The last thing you need right now is your dad noticing something’s different.

He’s sitting in the recliner watching baseball highlights when you stumble in. He doesn’t turn to look at you as you dive straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

“Hey there. Joel get his precious shirt back?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Just couldn’t be bothered with it lying around my room.”

He hums absentmindedly. You stand by the kitchen island chugging the water, avoiding conversation with him and looking for an excuse to dismiss yourself to bed.

“Hey,” he says after a bit, “did you find the burgers too…salty?”

You choke on your drink. “The– Too– What?”

“The burgers. Not sure if I over-seasoned ‘em. Were they salty?”

“No. They were fine. They were fine.”

Dizzy with adrenaline, you feign sleepiness and bid him goodnight. When you reach your room and collapse onto your bed, your phone buzzes.

Your eyes scan over the text; your heart skips and you feel a flutter just south of your belly button.

Joel: You free Sunday?

----------

tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal #cowboy like me

[undercovercameron]

sous chef

summary: rafe let’s himself play the husband role with your little life in your trailer. oh, also, he loves you. (alternate summary: the first time rafe tells you he loves you)

notes: i had a lot of fun writing this, i just love a domesticated rafe cameron that isn’t insane about coke and isn’t a murderous psychopath…. there’s also alcohol and marijuana use in this! def sexual content and in a particular prayer position…. anyways this was cute and i often romanticize my life in this way too! enjoy pls

tags: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

word count: 2042

When Rafe steps down the rickety stairs and onto the soggy grass, the humidity smacks him in the face like a wall of pond-scented wet sponge.

“Fuck,” he curses, raising a hand to his brow, and squints in the late morning sunshine. A mosquito buzzes past his nose and he swats it away with a golden ringed hand. His head pounds like a drum. Damn your cocktail skills— you always find a way to get him fucked up despite his tolerance. It’s the Pogue in your genes.

That thought makes his head pound harder, but he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. The only thing he likes in his family’s high-brow country club culture is the shit that comes with money. And with your limited experience in that, you’re a break from the bullshit.

He fumbles in his pocket, looking for his keys, but his fingers just land on empty gum wrappers and a lighter. He ascends the trailer steps in twos, wrenching the door open, and starts for the kitchen. There’s movement in your bedroom but he just grabs his keys and finds his way back outside into the muggy weather. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s rushing out to do— his plans aren’t until the afternoon.

He’s halfway to his Range Rover parked haphazardly next to your early 2000s Corolla when the front door’s hinges squeak and you call out to him.

“Needing this?” You hold up his wallet between two fingers, and he snorts. You step down onto the grass with bare feet. You’ve got a black lacy thing on top and a pair of half-buttoned jean shorts on the bottom.

“Take anything you aren’t supposed to?” He says, squelching over to your half-dressed form.

“Maybe. You know that’s my mom’s thing, not mine.” You roll your beautiful eyes.

“That right?” He says quietly, sliding his wallet into his pocket and taking your neck into the side of his hand. “Never know, with you.” His mouth meets yours for the first time that day, and you sigh. His hand smoothes down your waist and he tucks his fingers into your waistband, feeling the material of your panties. His favorite pair.

You stumble in the soft earth, feeling yourself being tugged closer, and your arms wind themselves around his shoulders. He’s hot and pulsing with feeling under your touch.

You taste like mint toothpaste and something like watermelon from last night. Every time he kisses you you taste like Sunday mornings and sunshine. But he finds the will to pull away with a hand on your collarbone.

“I’ll see you tonight.” His tilted face glints in the sunlight and his eyes are half lidded and relaxed. At peace.

“What’s tonight?” Your brows pull together, lips screwed up, and he lets go of you.

“I’m goin’ fishing with some buddies later today. I’ll bring you something I catch.” His blue eyes follow yours as you scan his face.

“Mmm.” You smooth a hand down his chest. “My own personal Hank Parker.”

He turns, sliding you off of him with both of your wrists in one hand, and backs towards his car with a chuckle on his lips.

“You’re weird.”

“You’re sexy.” Your gaze moves from the top of his head to his shoes. “Bye.”

“Mhm. Bye.”

His back turns to you and he grins foolishly to himself, depressing the unlock key on his fob. You’re going to ruin him someday.

Later that night, he approaches your door with a cooler, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a limp in his step. He can’t escape a fishing trip without some sort of injury. He’s lucky if it’s minor. The lights are on in your trailer, and you had even lit the citronella candle on the tiny picnic table off to the side of the front door.

He knocks on the flimsy door on merit and upon no response, shoulders into your living room with a huff.

“Y/N?” He calls, nothing but the crickets chirping and some soul music coming from your radio making any noise in the small house. He sets his things down onto the counter and your lack of response starts to make him a little worried.

That nagging worry immediately disappears when he saunters into the small bathroom and sees you sitting on the toilet, feet propped up on the side of the tub, smoking a joint and painting your toenails.

“What’re you doing?” He asks for some reason, face splitting into a grin, and you pluck the half-smoked J from your lips and hand it to him. Smoke curls out of your mouth and into your nose, and he just chuckles as he takes a hit.

“Multitasking,” you say, eyes meeting him before going back to the task at hand.

“‘S what I love about you,” he murmurs, and leans down for a kiss. You grant him one without acknowledging the beat your heart skips. He barrels on, trying to make you forget his lingual mishap. “I’m going to clean the fish while you finish here and then we can cook, yeah?” He sucks the life out of the joint and hands it back. You push it between your lips and nod, swiping a final time at the pinky toenail of your left foot. Five down, five to go.

“Sounds good, baby,” you mutter through your focus. He turns and you smack his ass as he leaves, relishing in the jump and curse word he grants you in response. You smile around the filter in your lips.

Finishing your nails takes so long that Rafe already has the fish in the pan and half of his drink drained by the time you appear from the bathroom with freshly-purple toenails and the lingering cocktail of marijuana and acetone in your hair.

“What’re our sides, Chef Rafe?” You ask, having a sip of his bourbon. You cringe and make a disgusted noise at his favorite alcohol.

“I heard you—this brand is good, snob. And there are potatoes in the oven.” His broad back is to you as he pokes at the fish in the pan, the smell of hot oil and cooking meat lingering in the air. He even opened the window above the sink and lit that candle you like.

“Sounds perfect,” you murmur, sidling up behind him, and curl your arms around his waist. The worn surf shop shirt he has on is smooth to the touch, and his skin is even smoother when you push the hem up to get your hands on him. “You look so sexy cooking for me.”

“Yeah?” He sets down the spatula and reaches for the cajun spices next to the stove. “How sexy?”

“Really sexy.” Your fingertips toy with the waistband of his jeans, and a colony of goosebumps prickle the skin of his forearms. He nearly shivers when you press your palm flat to the muscle above his pelvis and slide past his belt. He seasons the fish a little more with a shaky hand.

His eyes fix on a single crooked tile in the faux backsplash when you creep your hand down into his boxers, and your mouth presses to his back when he hangs his head. Your fingers smooth down the length of his dick, skilled and familiar, and his mouth drops open.

His heart starts to beat quicker when you pull his zipper down and unbutton his fly in one fell swoop, hot face pressed to the thin material of his shirt. He can feel your grin through it. Your thumb swipes across the tip and he sucks in a breath and grabs at your wrist. He starts to let you go when you kiss at his shoulder blade and curl your hand around the shaft and start to move.

“You have a good day today?” You murmur, bringing your hand back to your mouth to spit into your palm before getting back to it. He looks to the side, silently cursing, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Mhm.” His word breaks into a groan and you relish in the sound. He’s so good at pleasing you and getting you loud, it’s nice to just hear him for once. His fingers grip the edge of the stove so hard his knuckles pale.

“You smell so good.” You squeeze a hand at his waist, another one working hard in his boxers, and he chokes on one of the rawest moans he’s ever expressed. Your grin widens. “So good, baby,” you kiss through.

“F-fucking—…” He exhales heavily and his hips jerk at the increasing sensitivity. “You’re too good at this.”

“Not possible,” you say, and peek over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His ears are a bright pink, same as his lips, and his face is screwed up in something akin to bliss. You love it.

Your fingers slow for a moment, letting him catch a breath. He pants a little bit but licks his lips, eyes blinking open and looking surprisingly dark. You move his shirt aside with your other than and creep your fingers up his abdomen, stopping briefly at his abs before lowering back to hold onto the anchor of his stomach. You press a kiss to his bicep before your hand speeds up again, fingers a little tighter.

“So sexy,” you compliment smoothly, your smirk evident. “Needy.”

“Stop,” he breathes, eyes closed once again and biting at his lip. “You know that’s my line.”

Your thumb slips over his tip once, twice, then three times. He nearly chokes on a groan.

“It’s true.” A bite to his upper back. “So fucking sensitive to me you’d think we’re virgins, huh?”

His head rolls on his neck, internally cursing, and he grabs again at your wrist as you move quicker.

“Y/N,” he starts to chant, squeezing his eyes.

Swiftly dropping onto your knees diagonal to him, you grab at his right arm and pull him around to you. His side crashes against the stove with the force but he just pants and grabs at your hair to pull you closer to his dick.

You push him into your mouth with one hand on his hip and the other curled around the back of his thigh. He lets out the most wrecked sound when you push him all the way to the back of your throat. You suck, hard, and watch as his head tips back and his mouth open in an O.

“Fuck,” he shudders when your tongue swirls around him. “Shit.”

You go high on your knees, grabbing at the base of his dick, and push it further. His hips stutter and his fingernails dig into your scalp, but you dismiss it when he goes nearly silent.

“Please,” you mutter, mouth full, and that’s what sends him barreling over the edge.

“Fuck!” He forces out between his teeth, and it immediately turns into a gasp. “Y/N.”

You just ‘mhm’ and open your mouth so he can see. He release his grip on your hair and pets down the side of your head, panting with his eyes locked on yours. You leave him with one final suck that makes him shiver and then pull back. You get to your feet, happy with yourself, and seal him with a kiss. He grunts into your mouth but reciprocates.

“I think the fish might be burning, honey,” you comment, peeking over at the stove, and he just closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“I fucking love you.” He grins, not quite catching his breath.

You don’t necessarily freeze, but you stay silent. You take a moment to just look at him, watching the way his eyes fall open and the corners of his mouth turn down as his grin falters.

“I love you, too,” is all you say, eyes twinkling, and then you open the fridge and turn away from him. “We don’t have any cranberry juice.”

You’re simply looking for the ingredients to your preferred drink, but a bashful blush finds its way onto your cheeks.

His heart and lungs start working again and he turns back to the stove, taking hold of the spatula.

“Looks like you’re going to have to use orange juice,” he says through his smile.

#obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron abi #rafe cameron smut #obx x reader #obx smut #obx fanfic

[dckweed]

Not sure if you're doing top gun requests right now, but if so, here's one. Rooster with a girl who is helping penny at the bar on a super busy night and there is some rowdy group who keeps calling her over and staring at her, and eventually they go too far and try to grab her but she just knocks one of them clean out and as the guys (hangman, fanboy, etc) is taking care of them, rooster takes her away bc she was about to go crazy on them lol. He's just like "that was so hot but you don't need to go to prison tonight."

baby i am always taking top gun requests. ooooh i love this idea so freaking much, thank you for choosing me to send it too, i absolutely do love it when you guys send things!

please note that i see every request that comes in and i am getting to them one at a time! with that being said, feel free to send one in!

anway, how are we all doing today? are we staying hydrated?

warnings: drinking, violence, inappropriate groping and harassment, bar fights, established relationship with rooster!

"BITCHLESS & DICKLESS' bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader

It was a busy Friday night at the Hard Deck, you and Penny the only two working and barely able to keep up with the constant flow of customers coming through, it only seemed to get even more crowded and rowdy when a small group of sailors fresh off the base come through, taking up a couple of the tables near the juke box. They signal you over and you make your towards them, order pad in hand incase they order more than just beer.

"Hey guys, how can i help you?" You ask, your voice upbeat and a smile on your face. It was sticky hot outside and you knew your shirt was clinging to your skin because of it, you tried not to feel too uncomfortable with the obvious way two of the men were staring at you. "Eyes up here, fellas." You say, giving a playful angry look. You were used to being looked at, it kind of came with the job title of bartender, but that didn't mean that it didn't make you uncomfortable.

One of the men cocks a smirk at you, leaning back easily in his seat. "They'll have a round of Budweiser," He says, his eyes not leaving you once as he gestures towards his friends. "and i'll have your number, sweetness."

Before you can open your mouth to object politely, one of his buddies beats you to it. "Hey, Hanks, give some of us a chance with her damn." He chuckles flashing you a smile.

"How about none of you get a chance?" You say sweetly, laughing with his buddies. "I'll be back with the beers in a minute." You shake your head, walking back to the bar. You grab six cold beers from the ice box and start putting them on a serving tray.

"Those boys gonna be trouble?" Penny asks, maneuvering her way behind you with a few drinks of her own. You hadn't realized that she had heard the interaction.

"No, they'll be fine." You shake your head, glancing back over at the table as you pop the tops off of the bottles one by one. The one that had asked for your number, Hanks, was staring at you and talking to the rest of his friends at the same time. His gaze unsettled you, but you carried on with your job anyway. You make your way back over to them, planting your serving smile back on to your face as you start handing out their beers. "Alright fellas, let me know if there's anything else i can get you, okay?"

"That phone number is still wanted, honey." Hanks' friend says, taking a sip from his bottle. He shoots you a wink and manspreads in his chair, you perk an eyebrow at him. What was it with navy boys being so goddamn persistent?

"I'm sure it is honey," You say, your voice a little more stern on the matter this time around. "but my boyfriend sure wouldn't appreciate me giving it out to random navy boys that walk into my bar." You turn to head back towards the actual bar, where you see Penny starting struggle.

"I don't see him around, im sure what he don't know won't kill him!" Hanks voice calls after you, its almost admirable how persistent they are, it was afterall one of the more endearing qualities about your boyfriend when you first met him, although you had to say that he hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable as these boys were.

"Oh he'll be around!" You call back over your shoulder, not noticing that at that moment said boyfriend and his group of friends had walked through the front door of the bar. You didn't notice them for quite a few minuets, giving them plenty of time to get to their usual seats as you worked on the fresh wave of customers at the bar, mixing drinks and handing them out almost mechanically.

After around twenty minutes or so Bradley comes up to the bar, standing directly behind you, your back turned as you pour beer from the tap. "Here you g-Bradley!" You exclaim excitedly, nearly spilling the beer in your hands before you hand it to the man standing next to him.

"Hey baby," He says, his voice gruff and hoars, tired. He gladly accepts your kiss as you lean across the bar for it, pressing his lips against your own. He was still wearing his flight suit, and still covered in sweat, and a quick glance towards the others told you everything y ou needed to know.

"Rough day?" You look at him, eyes questioning as you get to work making their drinks. Whiskey neat for Jake, Scotch on the rocks for Bradley and Natasha and a pop for Bob, your favorite sober companion most evenings.

"You could say that," He says, a deep sigh leaving his chest as he watches you, already feeling more at ease. You didnt pry any farther, knowing he would tell you all about it in bed that night. "When are you off?"

You pout, coming around the bar with the drinks on a serving tray. "Not until nearly closing tonight," You say, walking with him towards the others. Bradley studiously takes the tray from you, ever the gentleman even on his roughest days, his arm brushing your shoulder as you walk. "Hey guys," You greet, giving Jake and Bob your usual friendly kiss on the cheek, and with a giggle you give one to Nat too when she taps hers and gives you a lopsided grin. You could tell by looks on their faces that they all needed a dose of happiness.

"Where's mine?" Bradley whines, hand on your hip possessively. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his waiting cheek anyway, adoring the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Awe come on Rooster, you get her all the time, let the rest of us have some." Natasha says, causing you to throw your head back in a laugh, leaning farther into your boyfriend. Your laugh was infectious and the whole group lets out a chuckle, you watch their bodies relax afterwards. "Might want to keep em coming, Y/N , it's been a rough one.."

Jake looks somewhere behind you, eyebrows pinched, stare hard. "Looks like you're in need, Y/N" He says, raising his whiskey to his lips to take a sip.

You look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the group of sailors from earlier on the other side of the bar. "Those guys again," You sigh, grabbing your tray off the table.

Bob grabs your wrist before you go, and you furrow your brow at him. "Are those guys giving you a hard time?" He asks quietly, he knew Bradley was already on edge as it was and didn't want him looking for a fight.

"Nothing i can't handle, Bobby," You say, ruffling his hair with a wink before heading off towards the group, putting some pep back in your step. "Ready for round two already, fellas?"

The night drags on quickly and slowly all at the same time, customers come and go, drinks are made and made again and carried out to tables. The two main groups being your Boyfriend and the rest of the daggers and the group of boat boys who become more rowdy as the night drags on.

Bradley is already uneasy with them as it is, catching them staring at you one too many times and asking for your number more than once, to which you studiously turn them down, looking his way as if asking for help. He knew he would step in when needed, but he also hoped that didn't need to happen, he knew Penny would talk to Mav and Mav would talk his ear off about it tomorrow on base.

Your patience had more than worn thin, and you were counting down the minuets until your shift was over, hoping that the last half an hour would pass without any issues. Your hopes were wrong though.

You were bringing the group of boat boys another round of beers and a couple of waters and were just picking up the empties and placing them on your tray when you feel it, a large, sweaty hand sliding up the back of your thigh and right up onto your ass, giving it a heavy squeeze. Your eyes widen. "You wanna lose that fucking hand?" You ask, voice gruff as you stand up straight. The entire table quiets.

"What? Fly girl over there is good enough to squeeze this thick ass but i'm not?" Natasha had playfully smacked your ass on her way to the restroom a short time ago, something the two of you had grown close enough as friends to do. It had made you laugh, but this? Oh this was an entirely different ball game.

You see red, and off in the distance you hear Bradley and Jake both yell and the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as they all get up abruptly. Youve done it before they can even reach you though. The tray drops from your grasp, your dominant hand balling up as the sound of shattering glass reaches your ears and your fist collides with Hanks' face, right between the eyes. You feel a sickening crunch under the force of the blow and blood spurts out of his nostrils as he slumps down, you had hit him hard enough to knock him out.

"What the fuck?!?" Bradley is next to you, arm out protectively as his friends all stand from their seats, ready to brawl over what you had done, even though their pig of a friend had done worse in your opinion. "Y/N?"

"Bitchless and Dickless over there can't catch a fucking hint!" You yell lunging for his friend. Rooster's arms hold you back though before you can make contact with him, the entire bar watches you scream and kick at the sailor as your boyfriend drags you out towards the parking lot. "Fucking assholes! Squeezed my fucking ass!"

Surprisingly, Bob is the first to throw a punch. He had been watching the idiots mess with you all night long along with Rooster. And after their long ass day he was just as ready to fight as the rest of them, infact, he actually took pleasure in what he did. His fist collides squarely with Hanks' friend and Natasha drags the already semi conscious asshole across the floor after you and Bradley, Penny coming to help her.

"Jesus christ baby, you started a fucking brawl!" Bradley laughs, opening the passenger door of the bronco, shoving all of his stuff onto the floorboard as he sets you up on the seat. "That was so fucking hot," He says, hearing police sirens in the distance already. "You have no idea how bad i want to fuck you right now but i can't have you going to jail tonight, buckle in tight baby.." He says, closing your door before running around to the drivers side, the only the thought on his mind is getting you home where you're safe and in your guys' bed, preferably underneath of him.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick imagine #miles teller

[lonely-cowboy]

beautifully human

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after noticing the way connor looks at other androids, you worry that you may never have a chance with him. but what you don't know is that he has only ever had eyes for you.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: insecure reader, mentions of death (they literally talk about dying in an elevator) (spoiler alert: it doesn't happen), probably ooc connor, west coast dialect went a little too hard in the dialogue, some very specific physical descriptions that i also tried to keep as general as possible? you'll see what i mean ig

author's note: glad to report that this account is lowkey helping me get over my writer's block, so that's amazing for me. anyway. as usual, feel free to leave any critiques on how i can improve my writing, characterization, etc.! :)

masterlist ⟡ requests

You hated that your investigation brought you to the Eden Club. You didn’t necessarily hate the Eden Club or its workers, but you hated that you had to go with Connor and Hank. It would’ve been embarrassing enough to go with just Hank, but adding Connor to the mix made you want to collapse to the ground and never move again. But you were a professional, so if you had to go with Connor and Hank then you could suck it up for a night. Hopefully.

The moment you stepped inside the club, you were filled with unease. Your stomach churned and your shoulders scrunched up high as if you were trying to hide from the world. To handle your discomfort, you turned cold and distant, observing everything and everyone with an icy glare. You trailed behind Hank and Connor as you scanned your surroundings, doing your very best to look at everything but Connor.

You couldn’t look at Connor in this place without being filled with a displaced sense of anger. You couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at these androids with infatuation or desire. Did he find them beautiful? Did he want them in the same way you wanted him? You knew they were stupid thoughts, but you couldn’t control them. Somehow, Connor had weaseled his way into your heart and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried.

Distracted by your foggy mind, you almost bumped right into Connor when he stopped to admire a Traci, his soft gaze exploring her body through the glass barrier. You watched as the Traci smiled gently at him, her hand reaching forward to touch the glass like she was trying to caress his cheek. Connor didn’t move to reciprocate her action, but he still appeared to be in awe. It only made your scowl deepen.

You hated that you were consumed by jealousy because you knew– deep down– that it stemmed from insecurity. This Traci was made to be beautiful. She was made to be desired and worshipped. In her limited clothing, there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her body was the epitome of perfect with its soft curves and smooth skin. She was a perfect balance of sweet and charismatic. She was everything that you assumed a man wanted, and androids were no exception. From the way Connor looked at her, you were sure she was everything he wanted too. 

You sighed in frustration before marching away as Hank called to Connor. You refused to let your jealousy– or anything you felt for Connor– get in the way of your investigation. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was still drawn to him.

Maybe you had been too hopeful, but you really had thought that maybe– just maybe– Connor had felt something for you. Apparently, you were just far more delusional than you thought.

While Hank discussed the crime scene with Officer Miller, you stood to the side looking uncharacteristically cold. With your arms folded over your chest and a hard, almost bored look in your eye, it was clear that you weren’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. You assumed that would be obvious to everyone, androids included. And it seemed that it had been obvious, but that certainly didn’t stop Connor.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Connor watching you with a confused glint. His LED flashed yellow as he analyzed your body language, working to only make your blood boil. You knew there was no reason to be angry with him, so why did your anger persist? Why did you feel so unreasonably jealous? He was just a man, after all, nothing more.

Connor approached you with his hands clasped behind his back, standing beside you and following your cold gaze. He was silent for a moment, pleased to simply be in your presence even when you were acting so stony.

“You’re unusually quiet, Detective,” Connor observed. “This is not within your typical behavioral patterns. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” you answered dismissively. “Don’t you have a body to analyze?”

Connor paused again, pursing his lips in a way that was so oddly human. In a gentle tone, he said, “Well… yes. But that’s usually something we do together.”

“Why?” you hissed, feeling suddenly riled now that Connor was talking to you. Why was he giving you this attention? Why was he acting like he cared about you? You knew he didn’t. At least, your clouded mind let you think he didn’t. “It’s not like you need my help. You can do everything on your own, I’m useless to you.”

Connor turned his body towards you fully, a deep crease settling between his brows. His LED continued to circle yellow as he studied you once again. That made you roll your eyes which seemed to be enough of a hint for Connor. With his LED still glowing yellow, he turned away without another word, allowing you to resume your wallowing in misery. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were still fuming as Hank drove you home. With Connor in the front seat, you were stuck in the back, glaring daggers into his back. How had such a clueless android managed to lure you in and make you jealous purely because he wasn’t interested in you?

As Connor jabbered on about something or other, you stared out the car window absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but imagine the Traci on the other side of the window, reaching out and smiling that perfect smile that made you never want to smile again.

You glanced at Connor as he fell silent. He turned to look out the window, making you cringe at the idea that he truly was thinking of the Traci. But you failed to notice his eyes transfixed on you through the side mirror, his gaze gentle and curious as he admired your stubborn look. He stared at you dreamily the rest of the car ride. 

When you finally reached your apartment building, Hank had barely stopped the car before you were clambering out and slamming the door behind you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grumbled, having enough decency to give Hank a small wave. 

As you trudged towards your apartment building, you froze at the sound of another car door opening and closing. You cursed under your breath, hesitant to turn for fear of whom you might find. As you glanced over your shoulder, you cursed again as your fear came true. Connor approached you with long strides, leaving behind a very confused-looking Hank.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Connor offered innocently. 

You stared at him blankly and muttered, “Connor, my building is right here. I just need to go up a few floors. I know how to use an elevator, I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

You turned and continued towards your building, not surprised when you heard Connor follow.

“The chances of an elevator-related death are one in 10.5 million,” Connor continued in that matter-of-fact tone that you usually found so endearing. 

When Connor didn’t elaborate, you stopped and turned to him again with a raised brow. You waited for more, but it still didn’t come. Connor just stared at you pleasantly, drinking in your charmingly confused face.

“Okay…,” you said. “So like I said, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But the chance of it happening is still possible, so it’s best if I escort you,” Connor continued. His grin widened as you rolled your eyes in acceptance. As an afterthought, he added, “Just in case.” 

In silence, the two of you made your way up the elevator (where you did not, in fact, die) and to your apartment. You stood outside the door and turned to Connor, ready to send him away in the hopes that if you couldn’t see him then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by images of him and that Traci. But you knew that wasn’t the case because even when he was long gone you would still think about how you couldn’t be enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for such an angelic being like him, not when other beautifully crafted androids existed.

“May I come in?” Connor inquired before you could even open your mouth.

No.

You wanted to say no so desperately. You wanted him to leave. You wanted to bury yourself under your bed sheets and never see him again.

But he was still your friend, and you were still a decent enough person. It would be rude to reject him.

“Sure,” you replied softly, opening the door to allow the two of you in.

The moment you closed the door, Connor was already asking questions that you were not at all prepared for.

“You were upset today,” he noted. “Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“I… what?” you stammered. “Since when are you a therapist android?”

“I’m not a therapist android, but as your companion, I care about your well-being,” Connor answered far too casually for your liking.

Companion? Well-being?

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you mumbled without thinking.

You were stupid to think Connor wouldn’t have heard you. With his sensitive hearing, he heard you loud and clear. Your comment made him tilt his head curiously and narrow his eyes.

“Why would I not care about you?” he asked, the genuine confusion in his voice making your resolve melt. 

“That’s not… it’s just…,” you blabbered, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you struggled to find the right words. “I wouldn’t expect you to care about me the same way–”

You stopped abruptly, eyes wide as your mind finally caught up to your yapping mouth. You could not finish that sentence.

Connor’s eyes narrowed further at your sudden pause. He took a cautious step forward, then another. You knew that he had already noticed the way your heartbeat accelerated, your breath suddenly caught in your throat. “The same way… what?” he repeated, urging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” you dismissed. 

Connor murmured your name as if he were scolding a child, raising a brow as a sign of encouragement to finish.

“Well… I wouldn’t expect you to care about me… the same way… the same way I care about you,” you said, the last part coming out far too hurried. 

Maybe if you had just finished your sentence the first time you wouldn’t be in this situation. That was a perfectly normal thing to say to a friend, wasn’t it? Absolutely. Absolutely… But the way you had paused only made you look more suspicious. You knew Connor was smart enough to understand the suggestion of romantic feelings.

“How is it you feel about me?” Connor questioned.

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the same anyway,” you muttered, pushing past him to be anywhere that wasn’t near him.

Before you could get too far, Connor’s iron grip wrapped around your wrist and held you in place. You looked at him with offense, but he knew you meant nothing by it.

“It does matter, Detective,” he whispered lowly. “It matters to me.”

There was no going back now. Connor already got the hint that you cared for him more than you probably should. You might as well say it outright. That was better than being embarrassed and pretending nothing happened. Right?

“I like you, Connor,” you admitted, the words sounding childish in your mouth. “God, this is so embarrassing…”

Connor was silent for a long moment, making you wonder if he actually had figured it out. If he hadn’t… God, you would be mortified. Did he really not know, and you just willingly outed yourself to him?

You risked a peek at Connor to find him already looking at you with a small smile. His hand was still holding your wrist tightly, his skin comfortingly warm against your burning skin. The glint in his eyes made your brows furrow as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Why would you think I don’t care about you?” Connor asked, the quirk of his lips telling you that he found all of this somewhat amusing.

“I mean… yeah, I would think that you care about me. On some level. I’d assume…,” you prattled. “But as a friend, obviously. Connor, I’m not sure you understand what I mean when I say I like–”

“I understand perfectly well, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “So I’ll pose the question once again: why would you think I don’t care about you?”

The confusion was clear on your face. Tilting your head to the side, you turned your body to face Connor slightly, giving him the opportunity to lightly pull your wrist until you were completely facing him. Even when he had you standing where he wanted, he still didn’t let go of your wrist, though he loosened his grasp and held you lightly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your inner wrist soothingly. Your knees felt weak, and you were sure you were going to collapse against him at any second. His touch was so loving that you almost believed he could feel the same way.

You nearly forgot Connor had asked you a question until he gave your arm a light squeeze that snapped you back to attention. He arched both eyebrows, watching you with that humorous glint. 

“I just… Well…,” you faltered. You inhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts before you continued. “I just can’t understand how or why someone like you would be interested in someone like me when there are so many better options. Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s it. I don’t know…”

“Better options?” Connor repeated. The obvious confusion in his voice warmed your heart. It was as if he had never even considered that there could be better options.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m no android, Connor. I’m not… I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful or stunning or gorgeous. I’m not like that girl you were looking at.”

There was another long pause as Connor struggled to process your words. His LED spiraled yellow as he questioned, “What girl?”

“The Traci,” you explained in exasperation, “at the Eden Club. It looked like you were practically in love with her, and I don’t blame you. She’s the definition of perfect. Not a single flaw in sight.”

“You think you’re flawed?” Connor asked immediately. That was his biggest takeaway?

“Yes, obviously, Connor! I am! And I just find it very hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be attracted to someone as… average as me,” you snapped, sounding harsher than you intended.

Connor released your wrist, and for a moment you worried that you scared him off. But then his warm hands were holding your cheeks, his thumbs now slowly running along your cheekbones. He stepped forward until his body was pressed against yours, leaning down until his forehead was nearly touching yours. His eyes latched onto yours, and for a moment, he just held your gaze in silence. He was reveling in the sight of you, so close to him that he could feel your sweet breath against his lips.

“It seems you don’t realize how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “Perhaps I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Connor paused again, searching your eyes for any effort to argue. But you were still so stunned by his sudden proximity that you had nothing to give. When he heard no contradiction, Connor smiled and continued on.

“Maybe you don’t think you’re perfect,” he started, “but I do. Everything you see as a flaw, I see as beautiful. It makes you you. It makes you so… human. And maybe you can’t understand because of it, but there’s something so pure about being human. Just being human makes you beautiful. But you… you’re different. You’re above them all.”

There was a strangely desperate look in Connor’s eyes like he was pleading with you to understand. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes, his LED shifting from yellow to blue and back again as he tried to sift through the swarm of emotions.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is,” he whispered, his voice nearly too quiet for you to hear. “I just can’t help but notice everything about you. I love the wrinkles on your forehead when you’re confused to the point of frustration. I love when only one side of your hair is brushed because you’re too lazy to brush the other. I love when your lip bleeds because you’re biting it while you’re thinking and you don’t even notice. I love…”

Connor stopped and pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your cheeks. His LED circled red once, the worry on his face far too obvious to your keen eyes. When you didn’t say anything, Connor tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him.

Your hands quickly moved to rest over top his, holding him in place. You looked up at him with eyes full of admiration and wonder as if an angel had come and graced the earth. Maybe that’s what he was, an angel. You would believe it. With that pretty face and those sweet words, you could easily be fooled.

As you eyed Connor’s face, the corners of your lips quirked into a smile. Maybe you could be enough for him. He seemed to think so. It was that thought alone that drove you to lean forward and press the faintest of kisses to Connor’s lips. It was barely a peck, and as you pulled away, Connor leaned forward to chase after your warmth. The gesture made you laugh as you whispered against his lips.

“I love how human you are.” 

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

[thestarrynightslover]

Whatever Comes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of blood, life-threatening injuries, hit-and-run, fracture wounds, and miscarriage.

Summary: Doctor (y/n) (y/l/n) and Jay Halstead are secretly dating when there is a terrible accident involving (y/n) and a lot comes to light.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic in a long while and I don't think it's all that good but I had to restart somewhere, so I hope you like it anyway!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You had just gotten out of your car across the street from the side of Med and, as you were making your way through the bit of road that led to the hospital, a car comes into the driveway — screeching tires, in full speed — and runs you over long before you could even see anything and, there, in the matter of a few seconds, everything goes black and you’re left bleeding out in the street.

Almost an hour later, after you had regained consciousness and had begun dragging yourself, very slowly, towards the hospital, Will and Ethan, about to go inside Med, spot you and run your way eager to help you out — even if they hadn’t known it was you at first.

“Oh man, it’s Dr. (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Ethan exclaimed.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!?” You sort of heard Will ask through your dizziness haze.

“Wow, you’re actually shorter this up close than I had imagined at first.” You attempted a joke with your friend, momentarily gaining some clarity.

Ignoring you, Will just asked no one specifically, “oh Lord, how long has she been bleeding out here?”

Decisive as always, you heard as Dr. Choi commanded, “I don’t know but, come on, Will, let’s carry her to the ED!”

As soon as your friends get inside the hospital with you, everybody stays in shock for a moment until Maggie yells: "get her in treatment 4, now!"

Following her lead, Will and Ethan get started on treating you, who has a few broken ribs, and free fluid in your belly besides from a punctured spleen. Having done their best in the ED, they decide to send your upstairs for surgery with Crocket.

Once you're going to surgery, Miss Goodwin tells Maggie and the doctors to call PD and specifically ask for Intelligence, since you were friends with the unit. As the cops get there, one stands out: Jay Halstead. He's frantic, devastated-looking, just completely lost, and desperate to hear more news about your condition. No one really understands why he is reacting like that, but all of them do share the fear of losing a great friend. Voight's giving out assignments to the team, so Jay knows that that's when he needs to speak up.

"Um, sarge?" All eyes are on him. "If you and the team don't mind running one man short today... I was hoping that I could, um, stay here with- with her?" Hank just stares at him, unlike everyone else — who are shocked — the older man's focus is on his detective's eyes, on the way he was so distraught from the moment they got the call about (y/l/n). That was the behavior, the look, of a terrified man. And, as everyone there knew, Jay Halstead — the freaking war vet — wasn't one to get scared easily. "(y/n) and I-"

"It's fine. No need to explain. You should stay here, Jay. Let us know, in case anything changes. And we'll catch the son of a bitch." He said firmly, making Jay feel as appreciative as ever, and, also, sending an implicit message to all the other members of the unit, one that said: we work this with all we got right now, for (y/n), and for Jay, no questions asked.

After the officers left the hospital, there was still a big commotion from everyone who stayed, because it was one of their own up there in the or. But, surpassing everyone else's, was Will's surprise by how distraught Jay looked, especially considering how his little brother wanted to stay at the hospital, instead of going to find who hurt you. So he comes to confront the detective about it. "So... You and (y/n) are a thing?" Will asked, trying to understand. Since Jay just nodded his head, he decided to push a little further: "And... Were you ever planning to tell me? What the hell, man?"

"Will, I-"

"She's one of my best friends, Jay! Not to mention the fact that I'm the doctor who oversees her work here!"

"Will you put it down?" Jay pleaded with his brother, motioning him to a more reserved corner of the waiting room. "I know, okay? I know. And I'm sorry if it upsets you, man, I really am. But this could've blown her career. That's why we hadn't told you yet." It was clear that Will didn't exactly like his brother's explanation, but he knew it was true.

"Just... How long?"

"Um, about six months?"

"Six months?!" The doctor yelled in shock, then repeated it in a lower tone. "But, six months?"

"Yeah, I know it's a lot of time keeping you in the dark, Will. But, trust me, we weren't thrilled about it. And we were hoping to tell you soon. I swear." Jay said, and his brother could, once again, see it was the truth.

"So, that means that when you started seeing each other she was still finishing med school?"

"Yeah, that's right. Which was, like, the main reason for us to keep it under wraps. An intern dating the attending doctor's little brother? Wouldn't look good."

"That's true..." At that point, Will took another look at his brother. Jay looked so worried and scared, even while trying to hide it. "So, uh, you guys are serious?" That question got a little smile out of the detective.

"Yes, we are. I know that it is new for you... But, I love her, Will. I really do." He took a moment to breathe, not being able to hold back some tears this time. “And, I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“Jay…” Will started saying but didn’t quite know how to continue. What could he possibly say to comfort his brother right now? “We just… We just gotta stay hopeful, okay? (y/n) is a really tough person and Dr. Marcel is a great surgeon, you know it. She is gonna pull through.”

A lot of disquieting hours later Crocket finally comes out of the surgery, just to be met by a very worried hospital staff and an on-edge Jay Halstead.

"Where is sh- How is she? Is (y/n) okay? Can I see her?" The detective hovers, not even taking a breath.

"Wow! Uh, you gotta calm down a little, buddy."

"Don't give me that crap! Just- just tell me how she is!" Jay shouts again, not giving a damn about what anyone was thinking. You were the only thing on his mind right now.

"Alright. But try to keep breathing, okay?" To that, the other man didn't even bother to answer. "Okay, um, it was a very complicated surgery, I had to do a lot of cleaning and moving around to get to the worst parts and-"

"Can you please just cut to the part where you tell me if she's okay? No offense, but you can fill me in on the details later." Jay stated nervously. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was the result of all those hours in the or, but, also, because Jay knew he wouldn't understand half of what Connor was saying, even with the simplified language. You would. But not him.

"Right. Okay. She's, um, she's okay for now. We'll need to monitor her on an hourly basis, though." By that point, the surgeon could already see the relief on both Halsteads' faces, so he went on. "We controlled the bleeding, but, with all the blood loss," he stopped to take another look at the detective, "I'm afraid," another pause, because, sure he had delivered this kind of news before, but this time it was a lot harder, because those people were his friends. And, what they had just lost, he had just lost too, in a way, "we couldn't save the baby."

"The baby?" This time he got an answer from both brothers.

"Uh, uh... You, uh, you didn't know she was pregnant?" Crocket asked, kind of already guessing the answer while sharing a look with Will.

"Oh my God..." It was all the youngest Halstead managed to let out. Seeing how his brother was unable to react any further, Will decided to step up and ask the tough questions.

"So, um,  if everything goes well from now on, you think that (y/n/n) will make a full recovery?"

"Ahhh, yes, actually. She was in great health, so, after making it through, uh, through the night, she shouldn't have any major issues." At that point, Marcel himself was trying to be as objective and as doctorish as possible, in order not to make things worse for the man who had just heard that he lost a child he didn't even have a chance to wait for.

"So, is it, um- is it possible that she didn't know about the pregnancy yet?" But, damn it, Will just kept asking all the impossible questions.

"Uh... It is, actually. Very possible." Hearing that, the detective immediately glued his eyes on him. "We estimate that the fetus was about seven weeks. It's very common that women on birth control haven't found out about it at that point." As neither Halstead said anything, Marcel continued, "well, she's up in the ICU now and in and out of consciousness but, if you want, you can see her for a few minutes."

Hearing that, the detective came out of his haze and said: "Yeah, I wanna see her!"

A few hours later, as Will Halstead gathered his things after finishing his shift, he decided to go check on you but got surprised when he realized that his brother was still there, in the waiting room. "Jay, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting," he said simply.

"Jay." Will called again, "you can't do this, you need to go home, get some sleep, eat…"

"I'm not leaving her alone."

"She's not gonna be alone, Jay." Not getting any response, Will decided to lead with something else. "You know, Voight called Goodwin and said that they're hitting a lot of walls in the (y/l/n) investigation…" Measuring his brother's reaction, Will continued: "Maybe they'd have better luck working with the whole team…"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tomorrow I'll tell Voight that I want in on the investigation." Jay said, not making any sign of wanting to leave.

"Jay, you can't work tomorrow after staying here the whole night!" Seeing his little brother still not intending to leave, he threatened, "if you don't go home right now, I'll call Voight myself and tell him that you're in no shape to work-"

"Oh, c'mon! You're gonna do that!"

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Will said, looking as serious as they get. "Look, Jay, you know she's in good hands here. And, whatever happens, you'll be the first to know, I've made sure of it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jay! It's time to go, come on!" Will pressed so much that Jay resigned himself to do as his brother told him.

For almost a week, you stayed in the ICU. For almost a week, Jay Halstead passed by Med on his way to work and on his way home from work.

Once you were moved to a room, Jay started feeling like he could finally breathe again, even though there was now the baby that someone had still to tell you. And, after chatting with Will and Crockett, Jay had already decided he was gonna be the one to deliver the news to you. So, one day, after Intelligence had already caught the drug dealers that were running away when they hit you, Jay asked Voight for the afternoon off to take you home from the hospital.

When you were at your place, you asked Jay what was going on: "Hey, you didn't say a word on the way here, is anything besides the fact that I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital and that everyone found out about us wrong?"

"Let's sit down for a minute, babe."

The minute he said that, you knew there was something really wrong.

"Okay, you're scaring me…" You said while sitting down on the couch.

"I just- I have something important to tell you," and, like that, Jay proceeded to tell you the worst thing you ever heard. It's not like you'd been planning on becoming a mother or anything like that anytime soon but it was still a possibility that was brutally taken away… You and Jay cried together for the first time and, consoling each other, you felt your relationship growing stronger. 

So much so that after some time you could start talking about the future that both of you foresaw with one another and, even though nothing was completely decided, there was one thing you knew for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

#chicago pd #one chicago #jay halstead #fanfiction #imagines #fanfic #fluff #angst #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fic #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago fanfic #one chicago fic #one chicago imagines #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x oc #y/n #reader insert

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#375

“Hey shithead, get over here.  I got some news….  You look like shit.  Come here.  Kneel.  Reach in and take out my dick.  I’ve got to take a piss.  Drink up and listen.  A buyer put in an offer, and it was accepted.  You’ve been sold.  I wasn’t expecting for a chunky slave to sell after only one day of showing, but that big truck driver made a full offer.  He’ll be back later on tonight.  He made some demands….

“He wants you cleaned up on the outside and loaded up with loads from many men on the inside.  I’ll bring the hose around in a bit.  Sir Hank will be down in a bit to bring you some soap.  He’s also going to make that cage permanent, by riveting it on.  Your dick will be useless going forward.

“Do you remember how many men unloaded in your cunt so far this morning?...  Four?  Good.  Hank and I will each provide one.  With you off the market, it’ll be difficult to get men in here just for a fuck. 

“I called a buddy.  You’re not his type, but he’ll bring his slave and fuck him instead.  When he’s ready to nut he’ll just shove it into you.  Or maybe he’ll use a condom with his own slave and then squeeze the load into you.

“Oh wait a minute….  Let me see….  There’s one…  two….  There are a couple of used condoms in the trash can here.

“Bend over and lean against the wall.  Present your cunt.  I have no idea how long these loads have been here, whose load is in them, or even if they were used on you or the slave that was in here last.  You are getting their spooge contents now….  Damn, you have one hell of a gape, which should make the squeezing in of the loads easy. 

“That truck driver has one of the biggest dicks I have ever seen.  He’s great to work with.  Prompt payments.  And most of all he seems to want the fat slaves, or the weird ones.  He’s an intermediary for several buyers out west.  You’ll probably end up on this pig farm where you will be force fed until you bulk up, and then installed in a pig pen with other real pigs.  Castration is most likely.  Not just the balls but your shaft too.

“There, both loads are in you….  Oh, I missed this condom here….  I didn’t realize that our clients used so many rubbers.  I guess it makes sense. 

“The other possible buyer that trucker uses is in Oregon.  He’s one of those militia types, but one who likes fat fags chained up in his basement.  Don’t know that much about him other than he’s a sadistic bastard.

“There!  Three anonymous loads in your cunt.  Get ready, this will probably be my last time for me to breed you. 

“Jesus!  He stretched you out.  All these loads are making this one loose sloppy hole….  This isn’t going to work.  Clamp down then spin around.

“Get me off with your toilet mouth….  You look grossed out.  That’s the cum stew from your cunt.  Clean me off before you get me off.

“That’s it.  Don’t fucking gag.  This is your life now.  Good boy.  You are an ass eating, piss drinking, cum dump slave.  Whoever you wind up with, they are going to do way worse nasty stuff to you.  This is what you do.  This is what you are.

“I’m going to miss your tongue.  That’s what made you sellable.  Does it ever feel good on my dick!  Work it!  Fuck!  I’m going to cum in no time.  Keep licking my balls when I go in deep.  When I tell you, spin around so I can dump in your cunt.

“I wish all slaves could have a tongue like yours.  When you eat my shitter, it really makes my hole quiver.  I don’t know what you do back there, but man does it feel good.  You always gave me your eagerness to please, and you do so no matter how shitty you were being treated.  That’s so hard to find in slaves. 

“I’m getting close.  I’m getting close.  Now! Give me that cunt!

“Urg! Uh! Uh! Ahhh! Jesus! Fuck!  Damn slave.  I gave you a large load to add to the stew you have brewing….

“Clamp down then clean me off….  There you go.  Fuck that was hot.  There’s some sludge in my pubes; get that….  I have to piss again.

“Ahhh!  When I’m done stand up….

“…Slave, I am going to miss you.  You know, if we were in a different situation, I would put you on a diet and a rigorous exercise regimen.  I would have you as my boy. 

“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to do.  Don’t pull away; I want to kiss you…. 

“…Like that.  Now you treat your new owners the way you have treated me.  If you are lucky, they won’t torture you too much.  I wish you the best.”

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor Part 2

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, follow up to Donor. English is not my first language. There's drinking, breakups, failed IUIs and more. Just an overall adult-themed content. But no smut...YET! (BWAHAHA) As usual, not beta'ed, and plot points are perhaps shaky and a bit far from reality, but hey! It's called fiction for a reason. LOL Excuse my deluluness, you're welcome to join.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You said, a tear escaped from the corner of your eye, slipping down your cheeks which you immediately wiped with the back of your hand.

Henry pulled you in on a side hug, letting out a slow sigh, closing his eyes as he planted a kiss on your temple.

Five negative pregnancy tests sit on your bathroom counter. 

Five more to add to the stash of tests that you somehow decided you wanted to keep in a box under the counter. Just in case…of what? You're not even sure yourself.

This was your third try over the past year. Three rounds of IUI and a box full to the brim of negative pregnancy tests lay heavy on your heart and mind.

For all the things you've accomplished all your life, this is becoming the most challenging. You already feel like a failure.

"There's always a next time, darling." Henry comforted you, gently rubbing the small of your back. You just sobbed, soaking his shirt with your tears.

"I don't know. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Hank." He hushed you gently and led you out to your living room.

You both settled on the couch, where you snuggled to Henry, feet tucked under you, as you continued to sob and he just held you against his broad chest.

"I just don't get it, why is it so hard? I'm literally biologically made for this."

"Well, just because it didn't happen now doesn't mean it won't. It's only been three tries." He cooed.

"Three tries over the span of 8 months, Hank. I took a really long break, I gave up touring for this. You…took time for this, too."

“You do realize that you can’t go on tour when you’re pregnant, right?” He replied and you just let out a loud sigh. 

“But I’m not. I could be touring instead, you could be out on a date with someone you like.” He snorted. 

“Well, first of all. I love you, you know that. And darling, you can’t be in two places at once. These things take time. Why so hard on yourself?”

You honestly feel like your brain is so fried and your body so tired, and bloated. 

You feel like shit. 

The tests may tell you there’s no baby in there, but boy do you look pregnant from the bloatedness, thanks to the fertility medications that have proven themselves useless so far and it’s becoming a tabloid talk recently. 

You can’t read another pregnancy speculation about yourself.

Not when you know it’s not happening at all. Plus, there’s a huge chance of dragging Henry’s name into it, which you’re doing your best to prevent from happening. Not going out in public with him where you know you could be snapped. You haven’t told anyone about your little secret, not even his family. 

“I’m taking a break from this then.” You said softly, after a long pause. Henry looked at you, surprised to hear the words come out of you. He just nodded in response, and pulled you in closer. 

—-

Henry pulled up your driveway and turned down the radio, opening the passenger side of the door to let you in. You pulled the door open and got in, giving Henry light air kisses on each cheek. 

“Look at you!” You leaned back to take him in, and whistled. He cocked his head in laughter with a hand across his chest, like it was about to burst. 

It’s been six months since the last time you saw each other; you stopped trying and went back to touring for a bit, and he went on to start filming a movie and doing press junkets here and there. 

It had been a busy couple of months and it made Henry think of the what ifs. Glad that you both don’t have to think of a child in the middle of all the things going on in your lives recently, but sad that you don’t get to hold your dream in your arms. 

You both have talked about it, co-parenting. You were surprisingly alright with it, “Better have both parents if you can, right?” You had said, but were clear that you won’t be asking him for anything, still offering to not have him on the birth certificate or forcing a set schedule on him to have the child over, which honestly broke his heart. 

You’re always giving him an out, always thinking of him, his career, his family. 

He wanted to give the child his last name, he wanted to take care of them on his times off or even bring them to set on his days with them, but he didn’t tell you that. In fact, there are so many things that Henry held back as he didn’t want to take this away from you, he knows how important this is to you. 

He’d convinced himself that he’d be content with whatever you give him. He just wants you to have your dream and be happy. He can be happy with that, too. 

“So, how’s life on the road?” He asked as you snapped your seatbelt on and he began to drive. 

“Good, the usual.” You replied casually. “And how are you, Superman? A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully at him, and he just side-eyed you with a cocked brow. 

“Let me guess, Charlie told you?” He breathed. You shook your head, opening your purse to take out a packet of Reese’s pieces. 

“No, your mom, actually.” You replied, shoving marbled chocolates into your mouth. Remembering the phone call you had with Marianne a few weeks ago, and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. Wondering if Henry would still want to donate sperm or if this budding relationship of his had changed his mind. You remember feeling hurt that you won’t be co-parenting with him… But as always, you understood. He has his life, you have yours. He’s already given you so much all those months ago when you tried. 

Your brain went into a hundred different scenarios all at once during that phone call, you wondered how you ever got through it. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed when he heard you ripping the packet and started chewing. “No eating in the car!” 

“Jesus, so strict! It’s just Reese’s pieces, it’s not gonna stink up the damned car. Calm down! Here, have some...” You held your hand out next to his mouth and he reluctantly ate the chocolates. 

“Damn, that’s good.” He muttered. 

“So, who’s the girl?” You pressed on, still chewing, and he just chuckled, shaking his head. 

“No one.” He said, holding his palm out and you poured more Reese’s in them. “It didn’t work out.” He added before shoving the chocolate into his mouth. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You replied dryly. 

“Enough about me.” He said, mouth still full with chocolates. “Excited for tonight?” 

“Oh absolutely. Haven’t seen you and the gang in a long time.” He chuckled at the way you referred to his brothers and some of your group of friends’ as ‘the gang’. 

—

It was Charlie’s birthday and drinks were overflowing, the music was loud, reverberating throughout the exclusive club one of your common friends owns. You were lost on the dance floor, a drink in hand swaying–hoping your legs won’t give out from both exhaustion, fun and alcohol all mixed together like the cocktail in your hand. 

Your friend, Emilia, stood on her toes lightly to whisper something in your ear. You could not hear exactly what she was saying, but she was gesturing with her thumb to the guy behind her holding her other hand, with a huge smile plastered on his face. You just nodded and they left. 

You saw Charlie and Simon going back to the dancefloor with a bottle of champagne on each hand, showering people with the bubbly treat. You laughed as both men refilled the now empty glass in your hand until it overflowed and your shoes were soaking wet. 

Charlie chugged down a bottle and raised it with a loud “Whoo!” when he finished it in one go. You laughed harder and downed your own drink in one go, too. Simon refills it soon as you’re done. 

You’re definitely drunk now. 

The two men went deeper into the dance floor and shared the bubbly drinks with more of the guests dancing. Left alone now with a half-empty glass, you started or more like swayed your way back to the bar, almost stumbling over a bar stool when you suddenly felt a hand slip on your waist, pulling you up to your seat, you turned halfway to see who it was and surprised to see Henry beaming down on you, hand still splayed across your stomach. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered next to your ear, lightly nuzzling his nose at your earlobe. You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

He seemed to be drunk, too. You thought. Except he wasn’t; Henry tried his best to stick to just a pint, knowing that he’d have to drive later that night. But there was something about you, about the situation, about the dress you’re wearing that made him a little bolder than usual. He took his hands off you, afraid of ruining the moment. 

You smiled and nodded in reply, “Yeah. I’m not drinking anymore. I’m too old for this.” You laughed as he settled in the seat next to you. You flagged the bartender and ordered yourself a bottle of water.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You said after downing half of the bottle. “I’m too old for this.” You repeated.

“Would rather stay home with the kids, honey?” He joked and you laughed. 

“Yeah, better call the sitter cause I’m going home now to tuck them in myself.” You joked back with a wide smile as you got off your seat. He threw his head back laughing. 

“No, seriously, Hank. I’m going home.” You told him and he nodded. 

“Let me take you home.” You shook your head ‘no’. 

“It’s fine, Hank. I’m calling an Uber.” 

“There are paps outside, I’m driving you myself.” You snickered at his argument. 

“What difference would it make? Paps seeing us together would only make it worse.” He knew you were right, but he can’t let you go home alone like this. 

But Henry was persistent. He took your hand and led you to a back exit that leads straight to the parking lot, not long after you were seated at the passenger seat of his car as you watched London go by in blur through the window. 

“You okay?” He asked, you’ve be been quiet for far too long.

“Mmhmm…” 

“What’s going on in there?” He asked, tapping a finger on your temple and you snickered, shaking your head. 

“Nothing…I think I’m just tired.” Lie. You wanted to ask him if he’s dating again after the last one Marianne told you about. You wanted to ask him if he’d still want to donate, and co-parent, and draw dreams together in the air like you did a few months ago. But you’ve thought of this over and over the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be right anymore. 

You wondered why you never thought of possible scenarios before you even started with your IUI’s.

Henry let out a slow breath, he knew exactly what’s in your head. He knew that you weren’t over the disappointment and the heartbreak from the last time your IUI failed. He knows so well, and this is exactly what he was waiting for, an opportunity to open it up.

“When’s your next time off?” He asked and you looked up at him slightly surprised.

“I have one last string of shows in London next weekend and after that I’m a free man.” You replied. “Why? Do I need to babysit Kal again?” You joked. 

He laughed, shaking his head, his curls bouncing on the side of his head. His dimples were so deep and the light that shone through the windshield from the car in front of you casted a beautiful shadow against his sharp features. 

Wow, you are definitely drunk. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked when he felt your eyes on him; He cocked an eyebrow at your direction, but you only shook your head in response. Willing yourself to stop ogling him.

Nearly 20 years of friendship, you asked yourself, why are you only realizing exactly just how handsome he is? 

You always knew he was good looking, great physique, killer smile, incredible sense of humor. But you’ve never seen him in this light nor have you ever felt a warmth pooling in your center at the mere sight of him.

What was in the drinks at Charlie’s party?

He looked at you and let out another laugh and muttered, “Jesus.” Your brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted and you look at him not with confusion, no. It’s as if you’re coming to a sudden realization about something, if only he knows what. 

He called out your name, looking at you quickly and turning his eyes back on the road, his grip on the wheels tightened a bit. Knuckles almost turning white. 

“Hmm?” You sounded like you were being taken out of a daze. He chuckled and shook his head. “You are so drunk, are you?” 

“I guess.” You murmured, blinking a few times before looking down at your hands, playing with the hem of your skirt. 

“May I ask you something?” 

“Go on.” 

“Would you…” He started but he paused. “Would you want to try again?” 

That startled you. After the last time you tried and failed, and then him dating again, you didn’t think he’d still want to donate. And if you’re being a hundred percent honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want to ask him anymore, not wanting to complicate his future relationships by being tied to you with a child. Despite the fact that you think he’s the perfect donor, in all aspects, including co-parenting. 

“I don’t know, Hank. I mean, of course I wanted to try again but…” You swallowed, man, this is hard but it’s for the best, you thought. “But you don’t have to donate anymore.” 

Read Part 3

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill characters

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 1k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07 @octaviablakeslove

A/n: YES, two chapters in one night? Let’s gooo! I was squealing and kicking my feet like any normal 23 year old would writing Fanfiction, lmao. This is by far my favourite chapter ever written, let me know what you think! Did I get Billy’s personality a-okay?

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 9

Billy ignored your attempt at trying to help him, though, it was true, it wasn’t entirely…

He did kill Casey and Steve that night, but he didn’t do it alone, Stu was with him, he did just as much as he did. After the slaughtering was done, he made it clear to Stu that he needed an alibi, hence his short and brief sexual encounter with Sidney before he went to your house for ‘help.’

Billy hated how you were covering for him despite not knowing what was happening, you were smart, but stupid, stupid enough to believe him. You knew better than to do that. However, what he didn’t get was why Stu decided to go to your place, when he knew Billy was going to try and murder Sidney tonight.

He overheard other officers talking about another incident involving the ghost face that took place at your house, something about a heart in a box and a mask that was found… But how could Stu be this dense?

“Officer, I didn’t kill anybody.” Billy defended himself, not wanting to stay the night locked away, especially with his slip up at Sidney’s and Stu’s arrogance because the cops now know there’s two of them instead of one.

“This is bullshit.” You slammed your fist down, startling the taller-male. “He didn’t kill anyone…” Your ears started to flare red.

Officer Brinks drummed his fingers on his lap, “I’m sorry, are you his girlfriend or something? Why are you still here, interfering with my interrogation?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of ‘girlfriend.’

“I-I’m not his girlfriend…” You stuttered, “You couldn’t tell by the way he was talking about Sidney? Sidney is his girlfriend…” You licked your lips, looking away, confidence coming back. “I’m just a really good friend who strongly believes he didn’t do it… I mean, the evidence is there. So, why would he try to kill his girlfriend?” You gave the officer a side-eye.

He coughs, clearing his throat, ignoring your comments.

“We’re gonna have to hold you, son, until we get those phone records.” Brinks explains, making Billy look down, upset. A small tear rolling down his cheek as he shakes his leg, nerves taking control of his body.

“This is crazy,” Billy murmurs, turning away, looking at Sidney through the glass pane. “You know that? I didn’t do it.” He finishes.

You step in front of the window, closing the blinds, shielding Billy from Sidney’s scared gaze. “Bil, look at me…” You mumble, taking your index finger and placing it under his chin, tilting his head upwards to look at you. “Can you two give us a moment…” You asked both Hank and Brinks, “Please?”

They nodded, understandingly, leaving the two of you alone.

“I know you didn’t do it and the police will find out soon enough that you didn’t do it, that you didn’t make those calls.” You reassured your friend, trying to cheer him up, “I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding; you know, wrong place wrong time.” You smiled, and for a second, Billy’s eyes softened, his big-brown orbs looked at you with a glint of love and temptation; a hint of possessiveness lingering in them. If only you knew that it was him, that he was the Ghost Face, that these tears and sudden relations with Sidney was all a facade, nothing but lies, he wanted you and only you, he wanted this to be all done, but his revenge was far greater than any feelings he ever had, or was it?

“Billy, honestly, I know you better than any of them; better than Sidney, your father and the police…” You pucker your lips, a small giggle falling from them. “If it was you, I’d know, right? You’d call me to come help with the bodies.” You joked, “We’re a team. We always will be.” You ran your hand through his hair, playing with it, “I would do anything for you.” You blushed, still playing with his strands of brown.

Right then and there, he knew.

“Forgive me…” He whispers.

You were confused, but that quickly faded as his lips crashed into yours.

Your grip tightened in his hair out of surprise as he cups your face, kissing you with such force you’ve never seen him do with Sidney.

He knocked the chair over with his body, tumbling forward in the process. His lips never leave your now plump and swollen ones as you kiss back.

You stumbled into the window from Billy’s movement, a quiet thud emitting around the atmosphere.

He moved his hand from your chin, pressing you harder against the pane, the blinds moving ever-so-slightly, but not enough to reveal the heated session surfacing.

He roughly grabs your sides, making your gown shuffle upwards, his thumbs pressing into your skin, leaving dents. It was painful, but also very rewarding. There were sure to be bruises there tomorrow.

“B-Billy…” You moaned, feeling him press his knee against your cunt, a shrill of excitement bubbling inside the pit of your stomach

He continued to kiss you, his face pink with lust, his eyes undressing you, slowly devouring you whole.

“You have no idea how long I waited to do that…” He started breathlessly, letting go of you, but not completely as he fiddled with the hems of your nightgown.

‘God, why am I now just noticing what she’s wearing?’ He thought, biting the tip of his thumb, soaking in your beauty, his one hand never leaving its grasp on you.

You bit your lip, realization finally hitting you in the face like a bunch of bricks.

“Oh, god…” You whispered, “I-I… We can’t…” You mumbled, pushing away, “I have to go…”

<- Previous Next ->

#fanfiction #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #billy x stu #stu x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher x female reader #stu macher imagine #billy loomis imagine

[multi-fandomedfreak]

Gn!reader and Connor making out in a semi-public spot and Hank is just like "OMFG PLS STOP RUINING MY INNOCENCE BOY"

Maybe hcs of every time hes caught them doing a lil too much PDA wise

(Doesn't specifically have to be making out just excess PDA, maybe Connor and reader are flirting a whole lot just whatever ur comfy with!)

Authors note: IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA.

Characters: Connor x Gn!Reader and third wheel Hank (poor guy)

⚠Warnings⚠: Semi-Public making out, mentions of dying (just a little)

🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙

The first time

-You and Connor think you guys are so slick

-Spoiler: you’re not

-You were both pretty new into the relationship so couldn’t keep your hands off each other

-And plus since the station barely had any people, why not sneak off with each other?

-Thinking it was gonna be for just a small while, you both are at the back of the station, smoochin’ away

-and surprise surprise

-you end up staying there long enough for Hank to actually end up getting worried

-like do you have any idea? how long you two have to be away for? for hank to get worried??

-Bc its not like he doesn't care or anything but he simply isn't used to having to actively keep an eye on you two

-but then them mother instincts kicked in after he noticed you two had been gone for a while

-He just starts asking around if anyone saw the two of you

-And happened to stumble in on you guys (poor dude screamed he needed bleach after walking in on you two)

-Lets just say that Hank kept a closer eye on you two after that

The second time

-You two have calmed down since the last incident with Hank walking in on you guys

-But of course you still had your moments with each other

-this time around you weren’t in that much of a public space (what you told yourself)

-just casually behind the Chicken Feed truck while Hank ate his lunch

-yknow, like how normal people do

-You two honestly don't really understand how it even happened

-You wanted a drink from a nearby shop since the drink you wanted wasn't sold at the Chicken Feed

- And Connor simply asked if he could tag along

-Aaand next thing you know you're both behind the Chicken Feed truck, drink long forgotten, with Connor trapped between you and the truck

-Of course, Hank gets worried again since he's a pretty slow eater so he doesn't know how you're still not back after all this time

he swears... that's it. jk jk, I'm just being stupid. anyways, he swears that you both are gonna give him a heart attack someday from how much he worries

-He tries calling you on his phone and gets confused when he hears your ringtone from behind the truck

-Time skip a few minutes later, Connor and you have red ears from Hanks grip and sulking in the car ride to the station after his lecture

-Mostly because he swears the two of you make him worried sick on purpose

The third time

-Ok. this time.

-You didn’t even try to hide it

-Like no joke, just decided to make out right there and then

-On Hanks couch.

-knowing he was about to be back in a little bit

-but heyyyy you both could’ve cared less in that moment

-A few hours earlier, you were after a suspect and one thing lead to another so all of a sudden, you were being held hostage

-So this making out was a bit justified since you almost died thinking that you were never gonna see Connor again

-And he was just as scared

-Soo both of ya just wanted to hold each other for a bit

-That’s probably why when Hank got back from doing whatever Hank does, he bit his tongue (literally) to stop a snippy remark from falling out

-He was just happy you were alive and you two were finding comfort in each other

-Albeit, a little grossed out at your show of affection

-He just cursed under his breath and went to go take a nap

#dbh headcanons #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 #rk800 dbh #detroit become human rk800 #detroit rk800 #rk800connor #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit: bh

[k0libra]

Welcome Captain Anderson and First Officer Connor!

About a week and a half ago I came up with dbh civil aviation au, as I absolutely love jetliners. So I decided to combine both of my interests! :D

More details about the setting are under the cut!

In the 2020s, a new aerospace corporation emerged - “Cyberair”. Originally starting from light jet construction, but later in the 30s they introduced narrow-body aircraft to the production line, as the result of rapid growth and market expansion. However, throughout the years their idea remained the same: “Reliable and comprehensive automation”. Cyberair jets are everything, beyond what a modern aircraft can offer, and is capable of. Truly a creation of the 21st century.

The latest Cyberair venture – state of the art autopilot. Identical to humans in its appearance, yet so different in behaviour. It’s efficient, reliable and doesn’t make mistakes (almost. At least human ones). But to tell the truth, this development is expected – ever since the late 20s Cyberair started to slowly announce machine cabin crew, even gifting a unique RK200 air traffic controller model to the Detroit Metropolitan Airport.

Delta Air Lines received their own one-of-a-kind autopilot, a RK800 (FAA approved!) model. How? Well, something about the Cyberair CEO liking their service. After a few papers signed and a few hands shaken, Connor embarks on his first real flight as a First Officer.

No plane flies without a captain though, so Connor has company. And a superior. Even if machines are better than people in piloting the plane in almost every way, human ego and fear, maybe, can’t let them be in absolute control. “Uncanny valley” or something.

Captain Anderson is a highly experienced senior pilot at Delta. Most of his career he has been flying Airbus aircraft, piloting A350-900 in the later years. Although because of Connor working with him now he has to pilot Cyberair regional or light jets from time to time. Oh, those signed papers be damned… He misses his dear A350.

Their relationship had a rough start, with the captain calling Connor “an attempt of capitalism at stealing my job”. But Hank couldn’t help but warm up to the FO the more flight hours passed. There was something so… alive about him? No, in aviation you only trust your instrument panel, and here all of the facts loudly state that Connor is simply a RK800. This is definitely some Eliza effect shit.

Why is he so interested in the A380 then? Doesn’t he have all of the aeroplane data neatly stored in his head? What surprises Hank more is something akin to confusion on Connor’s face every time he gets overly excited about the giant of the skies. Maybe he’s surprised by his new-found interest, too. At least there’s something Hank can tell him about from the old days (ah, proud A380 pilot) during long transatlantic flights.

Fucking Eliza effect bullshit.

P.S. if you want to leave an ask about this au, please do! I get asks so rarely so I’m excited hahah. But you can ask literally anything else, too lol

#art #fan art #my art #dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh hank #hank dbh #hank anderson #dbh au #dbh aviation au

[gangrenados]

titans kinks you say 👀 here's my personal headcanons - Dick: breeding, bondage, sadism/masochism, pegging, praise, marking, body worship, getting caught, and of course monsterfucking; Jason: praise, mutual masturbation, phone sex, orgasm delay, overstimulation, cumming untouched, marking, knife/blood play (only on him tho he won't risk it with his partner), and maybe a slight daddy kink? he seems like he'd be into his partner calling him daddy lmao (might send more with the other titans)

(2) back with more kinks! Gar I can see just going with whatever his partner wants to do lmao like maybe a size kink? but otherwise I think he's down for anything; Hank: definitely size kink for sure, public or outdoor or car sex, porn (watch it with his partner or making it), first time/corruption, spanking, lingerie, morning sex/maybe somnophilia; Donna: definitely bondage I can totally see her tying up her partner with her lasso, riding (her or her partner), sensory deprivation, and body worship

Nonnie I love you <3 OKAY TIME TO SIN Y'ALL this is long omg

Warning: a ton shit of kinks like gun kink and breeding for example, sex (obviously)

JASON TODD:

Do I think Jason would be able to make you see stars? Yes, do I also think he'd make you laugh cuz he banged his head against the headboard? Of course. The duality of a man.

Sex with Jason is chill, it leaves you with this nice fuzzy feeling in your head.

-Switch: I don't think Jason would have a preference when it comes to which role he takes during sex, he doesn't care as long as he gets to get laid.

Sometimes he'll take the lead, sometimes you'll be the one in charge, or perhaps there wouldn't be any role at all!

However, I feel like Jason (s1 and s2 at least) would brag about him being all dominant and stuff.

Also, I feel like red hood!Jason would rather take a more dominant role to take out all the pent up frustration on you.

-Names: I know nonnie you said that he might have a daddy kink, but I have to disagree (at least with this version of Jason tho). However, I do think the red hood version might enjoy being called sir.

It gives him authority and dominance, it's a strong word that makes him fuzzy on the inside.

Kinks:

-Praise kink: he needs the validation so badly, Jason aches for it and if you tell him how good he's doing he might cry.

-Marking: There's no doubt that Jason is a little shit and would leave a hickey in a place that it's pretty much impossible to cover up. He loves the fact that, by doing this, he's letting the rest know you're taken.

-Gun kink: Jason loves playing with his guns, and the thought of you suckin the barrel of on his pistols, as if you were suking his dick surely gets him going.

He'll facefuck you with it, telling you that you gotta earn it if you want him to fuck you stupid

He's not stupid though, Jason would make sure to empty all of them and put the safety on.

-Mirros: I have no doubt that tmhe would love to fuck you in front of a mirror and force you to see how hot and slutty you look.

-Humilliation: Jason loves dirty talking, most of the time he uses it to praise the fuck out of you, but there are times that he's so mean and all he wants to do is degrade you. Aside from words, I feel like at some point he'll make you hump his boot.

Misc.

-Overstimulation

-Sex on his bike

-Mutual masturbation and phone sex (these two go hand in hand most of the time)

-Worshiping

-Maybe this might not be related to this version, but comics!Jason would have a size kink

HANK HALL

Imma be honest here you guys, I don't think Hank would be really good at sex lol. Like he's not awful, Hank could probably give you a nice time, not a good time, but a nice kinda decent time.

As my lovely bestie @prettybitchfatwitch said "Hanks treats sex sex as if it's the gym" and well, I have to agree lol. I feel like with him you probably would have to fake an orgasm, anyway that's our little take. back to topic 💀

-Dom: He just gives those vibes, that's all. Maybe during his younger days he watched so much porn that know he has the need to be the one in control.

Names: I feel like at some point Hank would call himself daddy, does that mean he has a daddy kink? No, just like Jason, I feel like Hank would enjoy the power behind the name and how nice it feels to say it and hear you saying it.

Kinks:

Size kink: Hank would use his height and strength to his favor during sex, things like picking you up and fucking you or manhandling you would be his favorite things. Maybe he would brag about how strong and hung he is.

Anal: Hank strikes me as the guy who would be so into anal, I think he would love it.

Butt plugs so he can keep his cum inside of you, or perhaps he'd make you fuck yourself in one, or he'd make you keep it when you go out. Also I feel like he'd be into rimming aka eating ass.

Misc.

-for some reason I feel like he and Dawn would really into threesomes or they'd be swingers lol

Zero doubt that Dick is good, he'll make you see stars, end of discussion (I mean, have you seen what he had pulled off? He must've got game, passion, skills. Hello?)

DICK GRAYSON

Switch leaning dom: Dick assess in both, but usually he prefers to be the one in control. Totally soft dom vibes, although he can get pretty mean sometimes.

It takes a while to convince him to sub, but he gives in and boy, Dick is a bratty sub. He'll take any chance to get on your nerves, making you mad it's his favorite thing.

However, he can shut up quickly and moan like a little bitch. His brattines it's just a little mask for the slut he hides inside.

Kinks:

Praise kink: this one goes both ways, he'll tell you how good your making him feel and call you things like "good girl" for example. Now, do the same to him and you'll make him explode.

Daddy kink: Dick loves the name and I think he might engage in the dynamic, nothing too wild, but he would make up some rules and pamper you. Perhaps he likes the control this gives him.

Breeding kink: Filling you up with his cum it's one of his favorite activities, it sends shivers down his spine whenever he gets to do it.

Dick loves watch his cum drip down your pussy, but he's also down to plug it, let's not talk about fucking his cum back into you.

This man is gross, he jus loves to fill you up.

BDSM: I mean, it's canon that he loves being tied up, also adding to that I do feel like he would low-key be into masochism.

Like, it might not be his biggest kink, but it's where the mean side of him comes out. However, he knows your limits and will not hesitate to stop if you tell him to or if he notices that something is off.

Adding to this idk why i feel like might enjoy a little bit of pet play? Like he won't engage with it, but would rather use it as a punishment if you really get to get on his nerves.

He'll be condescending with you, pretending to be nice when it really he's quite degrading. He'll put you on a collar and make you walk in all fours, dare to misbehave and he'll tug on it.

Misc.

-Cockwarming

-Spanking

-Oral (he's a godsend for oral, the guy's good)

CONNER KENT

Just like Gar, Conner doesn't have much experience, but from what we've seen my boy it's passionate and pretty damn good lol

Sub: Conner is a sub, he just screams sub to me. If you wanna switch things up, then he might try be more dominant, but overall he prefers having you take control

Names: why do I feel like he'd melt if you call him baby boy?

Kinks:

Mommy kink: Yeah, I'm a believer of sub!Conner, to be fair he'd be a really sweet and obedient sub. He loves calling you mommy when you fuck him so good he's seeing starts.

Strength kink: Even though Conner is scared of potentially harming you with his strength, he loves the things he can do it it. Like fucking you mid air or manhandling you into a position.

Marking: He wants you to make him as yours.

sadly hickeys doesn't last long on him due his quick healing, but loves when you do it. Perhaps make him wear something of yours as a subtly way to let other knows he belongs to you.

Somnophilia: Conner doesn't need much sleep and sometkme he gets needy on the night, so getting to fuck you while you sleep it's his way to deal with the problem.

Misc.

-Mirror fucking

-getting spanked

#this took way too long lmao #hopefully it's good #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd Smut #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #Nightwing imagine #Nightwing x reader #Nightwing smut #gar logan imagine #gar Logan x reader #gar Logan smut #beast boy imagine #beast boy x reader #beast boy smut #conner Kent imagine #Conner Kent x reader #Conner Kent smut #superboy imagine #superboy x reader #hank hall imagine #hank hall x reader #hank hall smut

[macfrog]

moneyball cowboy like me chapter four

part iv of dbf!joel is yours!!! check out my masterlist to find the first three chapters for all your dbf needs. as always, thank you all so much for all the love n support. you guys make writing this series so much fun!! 🤍 i lowkey don't know whether or not i hate this chapter but i had to write it once the idea was in my head 🤷‍♀️ enJOY

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: when joel double-books you and your dad, you decide to teach him a lesson

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (f receiving), praise kink, lotsa teasing, lil bit of bratty reader, lil bit of dom!joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him. He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap. “I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

How slutty is too slutty? When you’re going over to your dad’s best friend’s to…Well, you’re not quite sure what yet. You’ve picked out a short blue summer dress, strappy back, with black lace panties underneath. If you’re looking, and the light is right, you can see them through the blue fabric.

Joel would, you know that much. That’s all you really care about.

You’re putting earrings on in the mirror when your dad knocks and edges into your room.

“Where you headed, kiddo?”

“Just out for a drink with Sam. Said we’d have a catch-up at the barbecue, so.”

He narrows his eyes.

“It’s not a date.”

“Hey,” he lifts his hands, “I didn’t say anything. When will you be home?”

“Dunno. Why?”

“I’ll be at Joel’s, so remember your key. Just in case.”

Excuse me? Did he just say –

“Joel’s?”

He nods, sitting down on your bed behind you. You stare at him in the mirror.

“What’s happening at Joel’s?”

“Rangers game. He’s having Bill and Hank and me.”

Just then, your phone buzzes. You subtly lean over and catch a glimpse of the screen before it fades to black again.

Joel: Call me when you’re alone. ASAP

You roll your eyes and let out a low sigh.

“Can you give me a sec, Dad? I think I wanna change my outfit.”

“Sure. I’ll give you a holler when I’m leavin’.”

He shuts your door behind him and you wait until you hear his footsteps recede to call Joel.

“Hey, baby, listen, I’m gonna have to raincheck.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Something’s come up.”

“Right.” Your tone is muted and flat. On purpose. Joel notices.

“So…we’ll figure somethin’ out, right? You workin’ much this week?”

You scoff. “I dunno, depends on when the next Rangers game is, doesn’t it?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath. “Kid, I’m so sorry–”

“Here I am,” you throw your arms up and march around your room, though you know he can’t see you, “getting ready, putting together the sluttiest-within-reason outfit I own, and all the while you’re gearing up to host my dad and your buddies.”

“…You’re wearing somethin’ slutty?”

“Not anymore,” you huff as you pull the dress off. “I’m changin’ into sweatpants.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’d still be into you in the sweatpants.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “I will have them out and gone as soon as the game’s done, and then you can come over, okay? Sound good?”

“And you’ll make it up to me?”

“I intend to.”

“’kay. Just know you’re gonna pay for this.”

He says through a chuckle, “See you later, baby.”

You hang up.

You rake through your drawers for something a little more comfortable to wear, settling for a floral skirt and off-shoulder top. Equal parts casual and suggestive. Perfect for payback.

Joel knows he’s gonna pay. He just doesn’t know when.

“Hey, hon, that’s me headin!” your dad calls up the stairs.

“Wait up!” you reply, grabbing your shoes and hopping out of your room. “I’m comin’.”

“You want a ride to Frank’s?”

“No, I’m coming to Joel’s.”

He watches you struggle down the stairs with one shoe on, brows furrowed. “You wanna…come watch the game? What about Sam?”

“He just cancelled.”

Your dad looks tickled. “Cheatin’ on ya, is he?”

You stand straight, finally having pulled your shoe on, and punch his arm. “I’ll be in the car.”

“Alright…” he mumbles, following you out.

----------

Joel’s face when he opens the door is a picture you never want to forget.

“Hey– I – did not know you were comin’.” He ushers you both in.

“Neither did I,” your dad replies, “she decided last minute. Blew off some date with that boy from Frank’s for this.”

“It was not a…” Your sentence ends with a sigh as you follow him inside, looking up at Joel as you pass. He knows damn well you didn’t even have plans with Sam, never mind a date.

“Big Rangers fan?” Joel calls from behind as the three of you head for the living room.

“Yes,” you reply, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

“Big enough to schedule a date during the game?”

“I’m sure I’m not the first to do that,” you hiss through your teeth, and he gives you an amused grin.

Bill and Hank haven’t arrived yet. Your dad sits in his usual recliner seat and sighs. You and Joel share the couch, where he turns on you to interrogate you more.

“So, what’s with the change of heart?”

“I, uh…I didn’t know it was this game.”

“And what game’s that?”

“The…Uh…You know. Rangers.” You shrug.

“Name three players.”

“That’s sexist,” you reply, pointing a finger at him.

Your dad cackles, rocking back and forth in the chair. “Beers, Joel?”

“In the fridge,” Joel answers, eyes still on you.

Your dad, who’d be oblivious to a hurricane outside if it weren’t for the warnings on the news, waltzes past the pair of you, locked in a death stare.

“You’re here to cause tr–”

“Trouble, yeah.” You flash him an innocent smile. “You caused it first.”

The doorbell rings and Joel doesn’t move, eyes still dancing all over your body; your shoulders, your hips, your thighs peeking through the slit in your skirt.

Your dad calls through from the kitchen, offering to get it, and you hear the rumble of Hank and Bill’s voices.

When Joel’s eyes meander back up to meet yours, a dangerous look in them, he leans in close. You tilt your jaw to allow him access, but his lips never touch you.

Breath hot on your skin, his Southern drawl whispers, “I started it, and I know how to finish it, pretty girl.”

Then he stands and heads to the hallway to meet his guests. You clamp your legs together.

Bill roars your name when he sees you. “I didn’t fuckin’ know you liked the Rangers!”

You stand and nervously accept his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you so tight it takes your breath away. Joel stifles a laugh in the doorway.

“I just wanted to be around for all the fun,” you almost gasp when he releases you.

Hank is older and smaller in frame, and he gives your hand a little squeeze as he passes by to the couch. “We’re up for it tonight, kiddo,” he smiles sweetly, “it’ll be a good’un.”

“Bill, beer? Hank?”

“Bourbon for me, Joel. Brought my own bottle.” He hands it over.

As your dad squeezes past to join his friends, Joel clicks his fingers at you and jerks his head toward the kitchen. Your jaw falls open with mock offense.

“Dick,” you whisper as you pass.

“Needed help from my waitress with the drinks,” Joel murmurs with a smirk, the two of you heading through.

He opens the fridge and reaches up to grab three beers – Buds, you notice – from the top shelf. His shirt lifts a sliver from the waistband of his jeans, exposing the tan skin beneath.

Your head cocks as you stare at him, gripping onto the worktop, probably more to stop yourself from approaching him than to look casual. But when Joel turns back around, he reads you like an open book.

“Quit starin’,” he mutters, nudging you to shift out of his way.

You don’t budge, so Joel shifts further up the counter. When you slide up to follow him, pinning yourself between him and the marble surface, he scoffs.

“Stop that,” he whispers.

“Stop what? Thought you knew how to finish this?”

“Alright,” he hums, arms reaching around yours to crack the beers open in front of you. Your back is flush against his chest.

“Then,” he mumbles, chin hooked over your shoulder, “we take this,” he reaches for a whiskey glass and Hank’s bottle of Yellow Rose, sliding them over in front of you with one hand. He takes your hands in his, using you like a puppet to pour Hank’s drink.

You can’t help but giggle as his stubble grazes your cheek.

When you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, you feel an unmistakable swell behind your ass. Joel’s breath falters for a brief second.

You want more. To be frank, you’d take him here and now if it weren’t for his buddies in the next room. But this isn’t about what you want right now. Not yet.

You push off the counter gently, your ass touching Joel’s crotch, grinding into him. His jaw tightens, teeth lock together, and he emits a low growl. He doesn’t move; just stands with his arms around you, hands gripping the worktop, holding you in place as your hips rut on his hardening bulge.

The TV is switched on and you hear a familiar commentator’s voice.

“Joel!” your dad yells from the living room.

“Had your fun?” he grumbles in your ear.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

He moves his arms then, letting you go, taking his and Bill’s beers and Hank’s bourbon, and backs away. His eyebrows are cocked, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

You watch him until he disappears into the living room, and snap out of your daze. I’m not here to be wooed by him.

I’m here to make him finish what he started.

When you enter the living room, beer in hand, all four men are literally on the edge of their seats, as far forward as they can get without actually sliding off of Joel’s couch.

You notice a space between Joel and Hank, and slip between the coffee table and Hank’s legs. He moves back to allow you the space to squeeze by and slot in on Joel’s left.

As you fall down into your seat, all eyes glued on the TV screen, your right hand comes up to balance yourself – Who are you kidding? – on Joel’s thigh. The inside of Joel’s thigh.

His head jerks down to stare at your fingers, locked around his leg. Checking nobody’s looking, you move it slightly upward. Closer to his –

“What are you doin’?” he whispers through gritted teeth, low enough that the other men don’t hear.

“Watchin’ the game,” you reply, innocent and sweeter than sugar.

His free hand takes hold of yours and slides it off of his thigh without looking, eyes always on the room around him.

You breathe a laugh as he readjusts in his seat, sitting up awkwardly straight and keeping his legs a safe distance away, parallel to yours.

You’re just getting started.

----------

Let’s be frank about it: baseball is fucking boring.

Well, let’s rephrase. It’s not that you don’t like watching it; you’re sure that, in more appropriate circumstances – relaxing on a lazy Sunday, or at an actual game, where the atmosphere buzzes with excitement – you could enjoy it.

But right now, you’re sat with your dad’s buddies, an ache between your legs that you can’t fix, and the only person who can fix it, is refusing to even look at you.

Given the situation at hand, you can’t really fault him for that. But you’re still a little mad.

When they roar at the screen for what feels like the thousandth time, you decide to take yourself for a quiet jaunt to the kitchen.

“You got snacks?” you ask Joel.

“Cupboard above the microwave,” he replies, gaze locked on the game.

You saunter out of the living room, finishing the dregs of your beer, and place the bottle in Joel’s sink.

Reaching up to search his cupboards, you find one bag of Cheetos and another bag of pretzels. You toss them both on the counter, and they land a little bit away from Hank’s bottle of bourbon.

You pick it up, reading the label. You’ve never really been much of a whiskey drinker, but you’re bored, and it’s here, so you may as well.

You pour a little into the bottom of a glass and lift it to your lips, giving it a good sniff before you take a sip. Your face screws up immediately, swallowing just to get the liquid off of your tongue, feeling it burn its way down your throat.

“You okay in there, kiddo?” your dad calls, hearing your coughing, and you splutter a “Yep!” in response.

Would it taste better with ice, you think? Maybe if you could get used to it, it wouldn’t be that bad. You amble over to Joel’s refrigerator and haul the freezer door open, in search of ice cubes, but finding something even better.

You lift the box, sliding one of them out and unwrapping it. When you knock the freezer door closed with your hip, you strut through to the living room and stand behind the couch in the doorway.

No one notices you sneak in; they’re all waving their fists and yelling curses at the TV.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Four heads turn to give you an update on the game, and three hastily turn back when the crowd suddenly begins cheering.

One head, though, whips straight back to you. Stood in his living room doorway. Sucking on a popsicle.

You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him.

He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap.

“I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

“Yeah? Good.” He twists back around to face the television, a hand running across his jaw. He shuffles in his seat again, just as awkward as he is uncomfortable.

You let out a quiet giggle and meander gleefully back through to the kitchen.

Not long after, you’re at Joel’s counter eating some of his pretzels when he and your dad stalk through, followed by Bill and Hank.

“Game over?”

“No, kid,” Bill chuckles, “seventh-inning stretch.” He yanks open Joel’s refrigerator and takes three more beers, passing them around.

He perches on a bar stool next to you, bringing a hand down on your back – loving, of course, but in typical Bill nature, kinda painful.

“We ain’t doin’ too bad,” Hank muses as he pours another whiskey, and your dad nods silently.

Your eyes flit between the men, now deep in conversation about the game, then land on Joel, leaning against the doorframe sipping on a beer, his eyes on you.

You lean over the counter, popping your ass out, and make him watch as you open your mouth, extend your tongue, and place a salty pretzel on it, closing your lips around your finger and licking it clean.

His expression never changes. Just watches like you want him to, beer bottle clutched in his fist.

“I’ll take these.” Bill’s hand swings across and scoops up the Cheetos, and before you know it, they’re making their way back out of the kitchen.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours as your dad, Bill, and Hank filter out past him. He’s mad, you can tell that much. He paces over to you.

“Knock. It. Off.” His voice is a low growl.

You shake your head. “No can do.”

He sighs, gripping your wrist. Before you can take a breath, he’s dragging you out of the kitchen and upstairs, where he makes a right and almost shoves you down the dim hallway.

“The hell is your game?” he hisses when you’re out of earshot of the others.

“Having fun, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to keep everybody from seeing the fun you’re having. Touchin’ and rubbin’, lookin’ at me like that in front of everyone. The damn popsicle.”

“You liked that, huh?”

“You gettin’ off on this?”

“Mhm.” You nod a little too desperately.

“Well, quit it. When we’re alone, fine, do whatever you want. Not when your dad’s watchin’.”

“My dad ain’t seeing none of it and you know it.”

He runs a hand through his hair and brings it down over his eyes. Seeing him this stressed and undone over you, over what you’re doing to him, sends pulses of electricity through your body.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you, girl?”

You shrug. “Maybe you should punish me.”

“Maybe I fuckin’ should,” he spits, turning away from you.

As if just hearing what you said, he turns on his heel, staring you down with an expression you read to mean one thing: he’s fucking considering it.

“Maybe I fuckin’ should…” he whispers again.

You try to keep your cool façade up, but the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark, jaw clenched, towering over you and cornering you against the wall, has you so wet and needy that you can’t pretend anymore.

“Joel…”

Whatever you were about to say is cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Joel reacts before you do, reaching behind you to pull a door open and backing you into his linen closet, quietly following you in and closing the door again.

There are just inches between you both, pressed chest to chest in the tiny confines of the closet. Joel’s head tilts and listens for Hank’s figure, stumbling back and forth across the landing in pursuit of the bathroom.

“Where’d you say it was, Bill?” he calls downstairs.

“First door on the right, dumbass!” Bill’s voice shouts back up.

Joel’s fist suddenly wraps around the handle, his eyes glued to the wall above your head, listening intently. He’s making sure Hank doesn’t try the wrong door.

Which, of course, he inevitably does.

It rattles some, but Joel’s grip stops the handle from turning. He glares up, shaking his head, mouthing profanities. First door, you fuckin’ moron. You stifle a laugh behind both hands.

“Hank!” your dad’s voice shouts from downstairs. “Not that one, idiot, the one next to it!”

Finally, the door stops trembling.

“I see it now, sure enough,” Hank mumbles, and you both listen to him spill into the bathroom next door.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding in your chest. Joel lifts his hand off of the door handle and places it around your jaw.

“You’re gonna be real quiet, alright?”

He’s speaking so low and so quiet that your eyes track his lips to read the words he’s saying.

“Gonna do what I say and keep that pretty little mouth shut.”

You squirm under his touch, hands gripping his shoulders, desperate for him to kiss you.

Instead, he holds your jaw tight and forces you to look at him.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you breathe, “I’ll be good. Just fucking touch me.”

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip then, asking it to part, and when it does, pulls you roughly against him, free hand dropping to your ass. His tongue battles strong against yours, bittersweet with the taste of beer.

You feel yourself intoxicated with the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling as his hips purposefully rut into yours. You want him to mark you again, give you something to hide, something to make half-assed excuses over when people spot it. You want him to make you his.

You moan into his mouth, hands finding his hair, and he grips you tighter.

“Shut – the fuck – up,” he snaps between kisses.

He pauses only to listen to Hank tumble out of the bathroom and back downstairs, then gives you a peck on the lips with a cocky smile.

Suddenly he’s at your neck, lips kissing, tongue licking, teeth grazing, and then he’s making his way down, over your breasts, breath hot and unsteady on your heaving chest.

You can hear the booming laughter of the men downstairs. Their shouts and calls at the television. It all echoes up the stairs, floating in under the slit of light from the hallway outside.

Joel’s on his knees now, placing delicate kisses up your thighs. His hands pull your weight onto his shoulders, fingers taking hold of the hem of your skirt and hiking it up. When he reaches your underwear, he looks up, a dark look in his eyes. A question.

“Quiet,” you mutter, nodding, and buck your hips toward him in attempt to hurry him the fuck up.

He smirks at your neediness and kisses you over the lacey fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep a moan from escaping your lips. Joel’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to make a sound. When you don’t, he pulls the fabric back.

He positions himself perfectly at your sex, pulling your thighs a little wider apart over his shoulders. Your head falls against the wall behind you, but your eyes stay locked on him, watching every little move he makes.

He starts by placing his lips against your clit gently, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s soft, warm, but with a hunger for more.

He sucks there for a minute, your hips rolling against his mouth, vision becoming clouded with stars in the darkness of the closet. Your hands tease his hair, gripping and pulling harder the more pressure he applies to your core, the closer he drags you to your high.

When he pulls away, a tiny gasp passes your lips. You expect him to get mad, punish you for making noise, but he just grins to himself and dives back in.

His tongue licks along your folds and you have to bite down on your sleeve this time. It’s no use, your moan breaks free and fills the tiny space, but Joel’s groaning too as he tastes you for the second time in three days.

“So – fucking – good for me, darlin’,” he whispers when he comes up for air, then gets right back to it.

His fingers grip your thighs so tight it almost hurts, keeping you steady. His head drops a little lower, and you feel his breath across your lips.

“Joel,” you moan, and he looks up. “Need your tongue.”

When he drags it between your folds and dips ever so slightly inside you, your back arches, shoulders digging into the wall. You’re doing everything not to scream, his tongue lapping you up, nose rubbing against your clit, but you’re nearing closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Keep – going – fuck, Joel,” you breathe, eyes screwed shut, hands tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer against you.

“Shh,” he’s cooing now against your cunt, pulling a hand under your thigh to insert two fingers as his tongue massages your clit. “I know, I know,” he says, lifting his chin. “Poor baby just wanted some attention, huh?”

You smile, eyes closing in bliss as his tongue reattaches to your core. You whimper his name as your walls start to close around him.

Just then, a roar lets out from the living room, and the coil snaps. You cry out, moaning Joel’s name as you cum on his tongue, your sweet noises drowned out by the thunderous cheers from downstairs.

You swear you feel Joel smirk against your wetness as you unravel for him.

You’re panting, hands still clinging onto his hair for stability, as he pulls away from your cunt and leans back. He gently rolls your thighs off of his shoulders and helps you to stand, before his tall figure straightens up in front of you.

You instinctively grab his shirt and pull his lips against yours, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. Joel’s breath hitches when your teeth graze his bottom lip and you pull away, releasing it.

“I fucking love this,” you mutter, and he laughs.

“Yeah? I just missed a whole inning ‘cause of you.”

“Worth it.” You smile as he opens the door, checking the coast is clear before letting you out first.

“Where the hell you two been?” your dad asks as you both rejoin the group.

“Missed one hell of a play, you pair.” Hank raises his glass toward the television.

You sit a little distance from each other on the couch, your needs fully satisfied, and Joel clears his throat.

“Was showin’ her my new six-string.”

You notice him out of the corner of your eye licking his lips. Fucker.

Your dad shakes his head with a laugh, spinning the recliner back to face the screen. “First baseball, now guitars. What has gotten into you, lately, hon?”

“Hey, Joel?” Bill sits forward, leaning over the coffee table to Joel, who lifts his head in reply. “You mind showin’ me that six-string after the game?”

You choke on your beer and Hank’s hand comes up to clap you on the back. “You alright, girl?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Joel replies, trying to ignore you, coughing and spluttering at his side.

With a few more good whacks from Hank and a clean sip of your drink, you recover just enough to join the conversation.

“It’s a really neat guitar, Bill.”

----------

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#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dom!joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro pascal #cowboy like me

[acewritesfics]

I Promised You Forever | Jay Halstead

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: From anon

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: A little angst. A little fluff. Mentions of a shooting and surgeries.

Word Count: 945

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

“Get to Med… Jay’s been shot.” 

As she waits in the waiting room at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, the sound of her sergeant’s words echoes in her ears. Her heart is racing, her knee is bouncing, her hands are trembling, and dried up tear streaks run down her face. She feels like she’s been sitting in the room for an eternity, waiting for any news about her husband’s condition. He was already in surgery by the time she got at the hospital, which was a little more than two hours ago.  

“Y/N!” she hears her partner, Kim Burgess, call out as she approaches her. When the brunette reaches her, she embraces her tightly. 

After Jay and Y/N revealed their relationship to Voight, the two women became partners. They’ve been like sisters since they went through the academy together, and they got even closer after Y/N and Hailey Upton were transferred to Intelligence after Erin Lindsey left.  

“Has there been any news?”  

“I haven’t heard anything; Will just went to see if he can get an update,” she says before breaking down again. “I can’t lose him, Kim,” she cries into the shoulder of her best friend. “I can’t do it without him. We just got married. I can’t be without him.”  

“Jay’s strong; he’ll get through this,” Kim reassures her as she rubs her back and squeezes her even tighter; it crushes her heart to see her best friend and chosen sister like this. 

“Did you get the person who shot him?” she says, pulling away from Kim and angrily wiping away the fresh set of tears that are falling.  The anger in eyes and voice wasn’t intended for her partner, or Adam who had been with Jay at the time of the shooting, or the rest of their team but at the guy who fired the gun at her husband and shot him. She begged Hank to give her five minutes with the person when they apprehended him, but Hank ordered her to stay at the hospital because that’s where she needed to be the most and swore he wouldn’t go easy with the guy. 

Kim replies, moving to sit in the chair next to the one she was in, “He’s in custody. Voight’s making his life a living hell, I’m sure of it.”  

She sits back down next to her and asks, “How’s Ruz?”  

“He’s blaming himself,” Kim replies. “He’ll be here when he’s cleaned himself up, and the others will be here after they’ve finished with the interrogation.”  

She nods, letting Kim know she heard her. 

Minutes pass as they sit in quiet, Kim holding her hand and reminding her that she is not alone. Will eventually returns and informs her that there haven’t been any updates just yet before he leaves once more to grab them all some coffee.  

Just as Will comes back with Adam following behind him, the surgeon walks into the waiting room. 

As he approaches, Y/N and Kim get to their feet. As the doctor begins to talk, Will moves to stand next to his sister-in-law. “Surgery went smoothly. We removed the bullet, stopped the bleeding, and repaired the damage the bullet caused. Jay will make a full recovery, but he will need to take it easy for some time.”  

Y/N exhales with relief, “I’ll make sure he does. Can we see him?”  

“Two at a time,” the doctor says with a nod.  

“Adam and I will go update everyone,” Kim says to her and Will before exiting the waiting room with Adam.  

The doctor leads Will and Y/N to the room where Jay has been moved. Jay opens his eyes and looks sleepily at his wife and brother as soon as they enter the room.  

“Oh, baby,” Y/N breathes as she walks over to his bed and takes his hand in hers, looking at him with tenderness. “Please don’t put me through that again.”  

“I can’t make any promises,” he says drowsily with a small smile. He raises her hand and kisses the back of it.  

“How are you feeling?” Will asks as he stands beside Y/N.  

Jay jokes with a slight smirk on his lips, “Like I was shot.  

Y/N scowls at him, not in the mood for jokes right now, and says, "Don’t joke.” 

“You love me, and you know it,” he gives her a small smile letting her know he’s teasing her.  

“I need to get back to work, but I’ll stop by after my shift,” Will tells his brother, stopping Y/N from that is retaliating. “I’ll make sure to bring you some decent food.”  

“Thank you, Will,” she says as he exits the room. Looking back at her husband, she sits on the edge of the hospital bed, clutching his hand on her lap. “I was so scared I would lose you.”  

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her. “We still have a lot to do together.”  

She leans down and gives him a soft kiss while whispering, “I love you.”  

“I love you too,” he replies as he kisses her again. “Now, come lie down with me.” 

“You’ve just gotten out of surgery. I don’t want to cause you more pain.”  

“They’ve got me on the good stuff, honey, and after what I just went through, all I want to do is hold my wife and remind her that us Halstead’s aren’t easy to take down,” he says and pulls her close to him, moving them so she can lay down beside him.  

With his arm across her shoulders and her head on his, he presses a kiss to her forehead and whispers, “I promised you forever. I’m keeping that promise.” 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please -

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader