#it’s like breathing. it’s like getting to breathe for the first time in 20 years.
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leather & lace- a joel miller x reader series
chapter one: the silver stallion.
summary: an untamed cowboy and the sheriff's daughter. an outlaw and a goodie two shoes. a hardened piece of leather and a perfect cut of lace. at first glance, you and joel miller are polar opposites, yet somehow fate has managed to tangle you both up in the same spool of yarn.
“You're saying I'm fragile, I try not to be. I search only for something I can't see. I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know.”
warnings: violence (guns, blood, death.) enemies to lovers, an unspoken companionship of convenience, this is sort of a soulmate au? in a very thematic and metaphorical sense, age gap (50’s Joel, 20s reader), themes of guilt and betrayal, domestic abuse. if i missed any, please kindly let me know. thank you!
A silver stallion was galloping across the vast canopy of the dusty sky, illuminating the distant mountains with a sheen of gentle moonlight. It had been a harsh, dry summer, followed by an uninspired autumn, but soon the loving hand of winter would blanket the land in her snowy glory.
The town of Ruby Springs stood glimmering at the base of a mountain, the golden light of dingy hotels and busy saloons flickering in the darkening air.
It was warm, inviting-and there was nothing he wanted more than a pint of beer and a place to rest his aching feet.
How long had it been? Days? Weeks?
The time didn’t matter when his back ached like this. His crooked spine had not felt the plush feathers of a pillow in many moons, his lips had gone too long without a tender kiss from a pretty stranger.
Every inch, every bone, every breath of Joel Miller hurt.
He was getting too old for this, too lousy, too grumpy, too much of everything to keep up with it all. The train robberies, the kidnapping, the late night bank runs. If it were up to him, he would have stopped years ago.
But he was an indebted man, and Joel knew he’d have to sleep with one eye open if he tried to run away from it all. He was reminded constantly of his duties, of the promise he swore to her years ago.
Tess.
His boss, his warden, his burden. She saved a life for him, and in turn, he owed his entire world to her. Every penny, every breath, every move- Joel did so to appease Tess.
And now this.
He had done many things in his life. Cruel, unspeakable things. He had watched skin turn purple and eyes roll blank. He had watched men hang for their crimes and horses die for their loyalty. War, famine, anger, cruelty- Joel had seen his share of the world, of the vast and indescribable horrors of man.
But this. Something about this made his stomach churn. Something deep, intrinsic, something that had been determined by fate many moons before. Something he didn’t quite understand.
The letter detailing his current orders were in the pocket of his worn coat, burning a hole straight through the leather and deep in to his chest.
Joel,
The girl. The boy. Their father. In that order. This sheriff’s been sniffing out our plans for too long, and we can’t have him ringing any alarm bells. Get it done and dusted, and report back to me in Jackson.
T.
He could turn his strawberry roan mustang right around and run off, far into the desert. Where he would go, what exactly he would do- well, he wasn’t quite sure.
But he had ideas. Options. Dreams.
He could ride alongside the screaming eagles through the valleys of mesa rock, make camp beside a Montana stream rich with salmon. He could trade meat with the Apache down in New Mexico and drink moonshine beneath the stars.
He could choose to do anything but that.
No.
He couldn’t, could he?
What was more innocent blood on his hands? Joel had killed before, and he knew he would kill again.
Patting the ivory handled Colt that sat glued to his holster, he guided his steed towards Ruby Springs, stomach tight with the promise of what he was about to do.
The powder room was the color of eggshells with pink satin pillows thrown about, piles of gowns that needed to be washed and trays of powder that were fading had been littered throughout various places. It was pretty. Delicate. Feminine. A room fit for a city girl who had never known a days work. A city girl who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
A city girl Joel felt inextricably fond of, without ever knowing intimately.
The room he had found himself camped in smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and framed photos of a pretty thing and her loyal steed were hung about the walls.
You.
The woman he was sent to kill.
Joel sat behind the bed, careful not to lean back on any loose floor boards. If he made any noise, he know he was screwed. In his gloved hands was a small, circular photo frame, a photo of your face beaming up at him, his target, staring back. Your eyes were full of light, face full of promise. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen someone so beautiful, someone so fragile.
He wondered what you smelled like. He wondered what your voice sounded like, if you snorted when you laughed. When he looked at your photo, he saw hope. He saw a shadow of someone he once was.
An outline of a little boy with a heart, with a soul, with a dream. A little boy who prayed and laughed and played outside beneath the heat of the sun. A boy who kissed his mamma and brushed his dog and shook the sand from his boots before walking inside the house.
Where had he gone? What had he turned in to?
Down the hall, he could hear footsteps. Heavy and booted, hushed whispers accompanying them.
“Shit.” He muttered, grabbing his pistol and peering over the meticulously made bed.
The doorknob was rattling.
Joel glanced down at the fading picture. He really did think you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A confident smile, pretty hair, dazzling eyes- you were so young, you looked so pure.
And your blood was about to be all over the palms of his hands.
His ribcage felt as though it was going to break, his whole body full of the whistling pressure of what must be done. Before he could even think or mourn, he heard a hiss of pain.
“Get off me, Wyatt!”
Wyatt. Your brother. The boy he was meant to kill.
“You gon’ tell daddy? Betcha’ not gonna do shit about it.” There was venom in his words, it dripped from each syllable.
Joel sat quiet. His curiosity outweighed his allegiance to Tess, and he wanted to see where this was headed.
“You killed him, Wyatt.” Your voice was hushed on that forbidden middle word, killed sounded so foreign when it came out of your mouth. It was as though your tongue wouldn’t dare hold on to the verb anymore than it had to.
“So? Don’t matter. When you’re the sheriff’s kid, you can do anythin’ you want. You should try it sometime.”
“No. I won’t. I’m going to tell him.”
“You wouldn’t.” A challenge. There was the ruffling of a leather strap, followed by the clicking of a gun. Not only a challenge, a death sentence.
Although Joel couldn’t see, the air grew thick with tension, like a beach before a storm. He could hear your little breath of air, he could smell your annoyance. Quietly, Joel peered over the mattress.
Something stirred deep within him. He wanted to protect you, and the thought made him angry.
Wyatt stood tall and dumb, buck toothed and freckled like a growling hound dog. His pistol was pointed right at you, and he wore a mask of pure anger. That’s all he was. An angry little boy with no real reason to be.
And Joel knew how to deal with angry little boys.
You couldn’t remember when it started.
The rage.
It ran unbridled through you, like a stream trickling downwards towards the edge of a mountain. You could feel it in your veins, like the stinger of a wasp, stuck with nowhere left to go.
You knew, ever since you were a young child, that one day the band that held it all together was going to snap. And one day, sweet, innocent, “Oh no sir, I could never!” little old you would snap. You would sink your teeth in the neck of a handsy man, or drive a bullet straight through a gossipy woman’s stomach.
One day that band would break. And one day your perfect socialite image would come crashing down.
Today, spoiler alert, was that day.
That morning, when you had awoken, your thighs were sticky with your own blood, and your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Winter was approaching, but the wooden walls of your family home held in the heat from the furnace like no other.
You were hot. You were angry. You were a woman on the edge, standing at the precipice of a ravine full of hatred and violence. One little gust of wind, and you’d be pushed over the edge.
Enter: Wyatt.
Your big brother. Nasty, incompetent, spoiled rotten by your overly doting mother who never, over her now dead body, treated you the same.
Wyatt could get away with whatever he wanted. Why? He was daddy’s favorite. The crown jewel of Ruby Springs. Next in line to be the town’s newest, gluttonous, and corrupt Sheriff.
Wyatt was a pig. A fucking pig you would send to the slaughterhouse if you could. You could do a lot of damage with a nail gun to his forehead, you thought.
When he had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you in to your room to snarl his line of profanities, you were already knee deep in the rotted mud of a shitty day.
One little gust of wind.
“-You wouldn’t.” Wyatt’s tone was full of that disgusting self-righteous attitude he always carried around with him, full of the thought that nothing could ever harm him, full of the thought that there was no one who could put him in his place. When he pulled his pistol out on you, no fear coursed through you.
Why would it?
You had been spanked as a child, damn near shot by your own father when you were twelve and accidentally dropped a bucket of hot water on his feet. When he grabbed you by the throat and threatened to spill your life blood, you felt it for the first time.
That rage. That deep, bitter, heavy rage.
One little gust of wind.
“What are you doing, Wyatt?” You asked nonchalantly, eyes flickering down to his gun.
“Protectin’ myself.”
“From what?”
“You.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re such a fucking coward. You know that?”
Wyatt held the barrel of his gun against your chin. It was cold. It was… inviting, like a hug from a distant family member. There was a feeling to that frigid metal against your skin that felt familiar, a yearning deep within you that had always been there but never awoken.
Not until now.
“Don’t test me, girl.”
“No, Wyatt.” Your voice was low, like the growl of a cougar. Your dumb brother didn’t notice you reaching towards your vanity, to the pointed hair pic resting gently on the edge. It wasn’t a knife, but it would do.
They say poison was the weapon of women, but you figured anything could work if you gritted your teeth hard enough.
So grit your teeth you did. So hard you could hear them heaving and grinding against another, like the metal cogs of a train engine.
“You don’t test me.”
Wyatt took a step back. A floorboard creaked, from what- or who- you weren’t sure. All you knew was your red tinted vision, the thrumming pound drumming at the back of your head, was filling your mind with the promise of a fight.
“I have put up with you for so long. Your incessant bitching, your stupid fucking crocodile tears. I’ve put up with the abuse- from you and papa- and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you. You know what doctor’s do when a sickness starts spreading? They get rid of it. And I’m going to get rid of you. You’re a fucking pain in my ass. A disease.”
You had never seen Wyatt go so wide eyed before, like a doe stuck at the end of a bowie knife, a rabbit lost in the woods. There was a bead of sweat forming at his temple, crinkles scrunching at the side of his dark eyes as he squinted, trying to make sense of what was going on in the world around him.
“You-….” He stood up straighter, cleared his throat louder. Wyatt’s eyebrows knitted tightly together as he gained his arrogance back again. “You on your period or something?” The chiding tone of his voice was enough to break that band.
One little gust of wind.
“That’s it!” You screamed out as your legs carried you, your mind completely on auto-pilot as your instincts guided you. In a matter of seconds Wyatt was on the floor, and the hair pic was lodged deep into the flesh of his cheek.
He cried out, a string of curses soon following. “You crazy bitch! You fuckin’ stabbed me!” He spit, a loose molar tumbling to the floor.
“I said don’t mess with me!”
“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Wyatt easily wrestled you to the ground, shuffling around for his pistol as you struggled against his grasp. Unfortunately he was much stronger, and you held no power over him while he had the high ground.
You felt the cold barrel of his Colt on the temple of your eye, and for a moment you accepted your fate. At least you went out with a bang.
And there was indeed a bang, followed by a thud, and before you knew it, you were being suffocated with the body of your lifeless brother, your neck and face painted with the crimson of his blood.
Joel had no clue what had come over him.
He hadn’t felt protective like this for a very long time.
Not since her.
As he perched behind the cushy mattress, listening to you two bicker like a pair of angry birds, a wave of emotion rushed over him. A bit of fear, an unforeseen amount of admiration, and a twinge of…. well, something he didn’t really know the word for. Interest?
Interest? Joel shook his head to himself quietly. He wouldn’t. And even worse than that- he couldn’t.
Interest. In his line of work? Not a safe option, not a safe feeling.
Joel held his gun steady, ears perked like an alert dog, waiting for an opportunity. An opportunity for what exactly, well, he wasn’t quite sure.
When he heard your bodies tackle to the ground, he knew he had to do something about it. Before he could think about his next move, his mind shut off, and his gun was pointed right at Wyatt’s head.
Something within him could hardly stand it, seeing you there, wide eyed and covered in blood. His ears were ringing, the echo of the shot bouncing off the wooden walls of the house. It had been drowned out by the old church bells right across the street, signaling the turn of midnight, the noisy commotion of the late night saloon bustling about outside the frosted windows.
“Up.” Was all he could manage to get out, extending a gloved hand your way.
Fuck Tess. Fuck it all. He wasn’t going to kill you.
Because God above, were you even more breathtaking in person. He felt his stomach twist and knot around itself, his organs rearranging themselves at the mere sight of you. His palms grew sweaty behind his gloves, his heart slammed against his ribcage, begging for a prison escape.
He didn’t know what to do with all the emotion fluttering about behind his skin.
It was in that moment that Joel Miller decided he hated you.
The weight of a dead body was unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Your mouth was full with the taste of metal and gunpowder, your eyelashes cracking with drying viscera. It smelled like searing flesh, and your nostrils flared at the intrusion.
The strange man stood towering above you. Strong, capable, eyes hidden behind the brim of his dark Stetson.
“Up.”
It was a simple command. Covered in the previous life of your brother who easily wrestled you in to submission, you decided to take both his hand and his offer. It was one of the kinder interaction you had had today.
While rising to your feet, your eyes caught his own.
His eyes.
You had never seen a shade of umber so alluring before. Honeyed spheres full of coffee tinted orbs, his pupils wide and dilated with the rush of taking another man’s life. There was something dangerous about his eyes, something dark and distant, as though he had seen and partaken in unspeakable horrors, as though he had carried the entire weight of the world on his shoulders and survived to tell the tale.
He was a broken man, you knew it right off the bat. A broken man with nowhere else to go, or nothing else to do, except shoot people with bounties on their head.
Oh, you weren’t naive. It wasn’t the first time a man had been found hiding in your room, ready to take you. Why, kidnapping the Sheriff’s daughter for ransom would give them a pretty penny, wouldn’t it? But you have a murderous brother- correction, had- who didn’t mind hunting men down and killing them. Not because he cared about you, of course not, but because he loved the feeling of murder, he danced with the illustrious shadow of death.
That shadow came back to bite him in the ass, and you relished in watching him die.
Fuck Wyatt. Fuck that tool. He had tormented you your entire life and now he was gone.
You shook those thoughts away, returning to the gaze of the man before you. Something rumbled deep in your soul, something you had never felt before. A tug, a pull, towards the person who stood tall in front of you. You had never felt something so intense, so deep, in all your life. It’s like you were stuck in the waves of a tempestuous ocean, with no escape in sight and a mouthful of sea water clawing at the back of your throat.
You were drowning in those honeyed orbs, a gust of wind pulled you back down to reality.
Finally, you could speak. “I’m-”
“I know who you are.” His voice was raw and deep. You watched him wipe his bloodied gloves off on the denim of his pants, and you winced.
“Are you taking me somewhere?”
“Yes.”
For a moment you stopped. You could run out the door, it was three feet away. You could also pounce and grab Wyatt’s gun, it was right at your feet.
Or…. you could go with him. You could run away from the abuse, the suffocating town, the disgusting standards, the burden of having a social life in the public eye. You could prove a point to your father.
You could be your own person.
In that moment you decided that this man was going to be your ticket out of Ruby Springs.
“Can I change?”
“What?” Joel looked at you like you were crazy, a thick eyebrow raising with incredulousness at the sound of your statement.
“Can I change? I’m covered in blood. I want to put on a clean dress, it reeks of Wyatt.”
The unnamed cowboy sighed. “Fine. But be quick.”
You began the tedious process of stripping out of your layers, starting with the buttons on your sleeves. “And don’t think about looking.”
“I ain’t lookin’.” His voice was tired with annoyance, an echo of the man he once was. He turned around on his heel, staying true to his word with his broad back turned to you.
“What’s your name anyways, mister?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“I reckon you and I are going to be spending a bit of time together.”
He snorted, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall with a shrug. “Miller. Joel Miller.”
Your fingers stopped in their tracks, your body short circuiting as the name replayed in your mind, again and again.
Joel Miller.
The Joel Miller.
He was as famous as Billy the Kid, as notorious as Jesse James- he was an outlaw that everyone, even those fancy pants on the East Coast, knew of. And he was standing in your room.
Joel let out a sigh. “Your silence is loud, girl.”
“I just…” You paused for a moment as you flicked through your wardrobe. “I just…. my dad used to tell us stories about you when we were kids. He…. well-”
“Hates me?”
“Damn straight. Made it his life mission to hunt you down.”
“Well he ain’t that good at it. Considering I walked right in to his town.”
You laughed, slipping in to a chemise. “He’s gotten a bit stupid in his old age. Should I go and tell him you’re here? Give him a head start?”
You could have sworn you heard Joel chuckle, but a quick clearing of the throat masked whatever sound of amusement he could have made.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know? That’s not how ransoms work, you know. This isn’t my first time being snatched up.” You held your head up high, buttoning up the front of your blouse.
“Doesn’t surprise me. Lot’s of hunters like your type.”
“My type?”
“Naive little girls with rich daddies. The kind that pay well.”
“Naive? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. You’re definitely not naive. You put up a good fight with your brother.”
You had to learn to defend yourself at an early age. You had to hold your own. There were days you would walk back home from school with swollen eyes and cracked knuckles. By the time you hit puberty, your mother started dressing you up in the attire that good little girls from rich little families inside snooty little social circles wore. Dresses the color of poppies, shoes made from silk- it was all lovely, and you grew to love it all, but deep down you knew it wasn’t where you belonged.
You didn’t respond to Joel. You threw on your overskirt, slipping on your tired leather boots. “Ready.” You chirped.
Joel turned around on his heel, looking at you through his eyelashes. There was a short moment of silence before he picked your brother up and tossed him on your bed.
You winced. “Come on. Those sheets were clean.”
He ignored you, patting through his pockets. A few stray bullets and some loose change later, and you were sneaking out the back of your house.
“Can I go grab my horse?”
“That would defeat the purpose of a kidnappin’, girl.”
You rolled your eyes. “Please? I don’t want to leave Fritz here.”
“Fritz?” Joel scoffed at the name, staring you down.
“Please?”
Joel gritted his teeth, hissing out a shot of hot air. “Fine. But be quick or I’m shootin’ you too.”
You smiled a toothy grin, running off to the stables. You had appeared just as quick as you left, an all black stallion standing tall and proud. His mane was braided, and his soft nose was pink. He was a handsome specimen, standing out like a sore thumb beside the strawberry coated mustang.
“What’s her name?” You asked, following him closely on the path that lead out of the town. You noticed you were headed for the mountains.
“My horse?”
You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Uh, yeah.”
Joel sniffed a bit. “She doesn’t have one.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s just a damn horse.”
You rolled your eyes, running your fingers down Fritz’s soft neck. “She’s your companion. She trusts you more than anything, you know. She’s bonded to you, completely at your service, and you can’t even give her a name?”
“Will you just shut up? You’re yapping my ear off, woman. Kidnapee’s ain’t supposed to talk this damn much.”
“Well you ain’t never kidnapped someone like me, Joel Miller.”
As you rode in silence, the early morning thickness hanging in the air, the sound of cicadas lulled you deeper in to your thoughts. Thoughts of Wyatt, thoughts of the strange man riding in front of you.
The strange man who seemed so cold, so mean. And what kind of dick didn’t name their horse?
It was in that moment that you decided you hated Joel Miller.
tag list: @loliwrites @persephone-girl @ilovepedro @noisynightmarepoetry @moel-jiller @bensonispunk @obvitsclaire @redb1cpen @paanchusblog @joelalorian @dragonsanddragons @ashleyfilm @kungfucapslock @cumberpegg
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Let The Light In: Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Words: 2.7K
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff (?!), Friends to enemies to lovers, reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn (but we're about to be on fire).
A/N: A few hours later than planned but still, as promised! Also, time jump???!!! Lmk if we hate and if it should never be done again.
2/5/24
“Leo, I’ve told you 100 times I’m not comfortable doing shoots with Paige anymore. I really need to be taken off the schedule for tomorrow,” you insist, frustration tinging your voice. This is not the first time the two of you have had this particular conversation and you doubt it will be the last.
The morning after your talk with Paige you’d gone to Leo and told him everything. Over the course of your time at UConn Leo really had become like a second dad to you, but this was the first time you really had bothered him with your personal life.
Luckily for you, he’d been very understanding and even took you and Charlie out to breakfast. You, because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle a sobbing 20-year-old and he figured throwing free food at the problem would be relatively pacifying, and Charlie because he figured she deserved a thank you for having dealt with a sobbing 20-year-old all night (and for saving him from the unfortunate task).
The man turns to you with a heavy sigh, his eyes weary. “I’ve tried, for three months now I’ve kept you from being assigned to her, but this time I need the best of the best, and that’s you, kid. I’m sorry.”
The relationship between you and Paige had been hastily sewn back together over the past few months, a single, weak thread intertwining the two of you again. And things have, admittedly, been rougher than you’d like.
The best conversation the two of you had shared took place over the course of a two-hour-long phone call where you let her know that you’d removed yourself from any future shoots with her. She immediately argued that you hadn’t needed to do that. You disagreed, then she disagreed with that, the process repeating again, and again, and again until the two of you realized that the time on the clock was now well past midnight and it was in both of your best interests to head off to bed.
She came up to you after games, just like old times, greeting you in a quick hug and stealing your camera off your neck to flip through a couple of the photos before nodding in approval and wandering off again.
After finals you’d run into the team on a night out and joined them. Paige had walked you home, each of you drunk off your asses and using it as an excuse to cling to each other like ivy to an old brick wall. It had started snowing so you’d offered to let her stay the night, she’d said no.
The holidays stood out only for their flurry of awkward ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy New Year’ texts.
Everything else, however, had been remarkably unremarkable; seeming so insignificant that even when you were spending hours over analyzing each interaction the two of you have had, remembering these felt like a waste of time.
But now, standing in Leo’s office, for the first time in months, even with the lack of real communication, you felt that fragile thread between Paige and you threatening to snap.
“Leo, please,” you said, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want to mess things up with Paige again. We’re barely holding on as it is.”
Leo looked at you with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. “I get it, but you’re both professionals. You can do this. It’s one shoot. Just one. After that, we can reevaluate.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “Fine,” you said finally, the word feeling like a lead weight on your tongue. “But if it becomes too much, I’m out.”
Leo nods, relieved. “I understand. Just give it your best shot.”
The next day, you arrive at the shoot early, the familiar buzz of the studio doing very little to calm your nerves. You busy yourself with setting up your equipment, trying to focus on the technical aspects to keep your mind off the impending interaction with Paige, or rather, the interaction in the setting the two of you had been trying your hardest to avoid.
When she finally walks in, your breath catches in your throat. She looks as beautiful as ever, you had desperately missed being near her, the occasional run-ins the two of you had doing very little to stifle your aching need for the blonde.
The shoot begins, the atmosphere almost painfully tense but still professional enough that Leo was satisfied. You direct her with a calm, steady voice, doing your best to maintain the distance she seems to need.
Paige follows your directions flawlessly, her movements graceful and precise. It is almost like old times, except for the invisible barrier she's put up between you.
During a break, Paige approaches you, her expression tentative. “How’s it going?” she asked softly, her eyes searching yours.
You shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “I mean, it's photography and it's you. Hard not to love it.” Admittedly, the last bit was a lie, having to capture her like this again was nerve wracking to say the least.
Sure, the picture of her on the court is what had gotten the two of you here. But in your mind, these shoots marked the beginning of the end, where you had started getting selfish with your art, where you had been given to much control and in turn, abused it.
She nods, biting her lip. “I appreciate you doing this. I know I’m kinda ruining your thing for you right now which I really didn’t want to do.”
You look at her, the sincerity in her eyes tugging at your heart. “I’m trying P.”
She looks around briefly, confirming that no one is watching before swooping down to briefly press her lips against your cheek. “I know you are.” She whispers before Leo calls everyone back to set.
By the end of the night, almost everyone had left, leaving you and Paige, who had apparently decided to stay with you a while longer instead of returning to her dorm, to pack up alone. This would have been fine if it wasn’t so eerily reminiscent of all the other times you two had worked together. Everything was just still so painfully raw, even nostalgia hurt.
As you tried desperately to busy yourself, ignoring the blondes lingering stare, Paige finally broke the silence. “Do you remember our first shoot together?” she asked softly.
You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips, there were a only a few moments the two of you have shared that didn't immediately make you tear up for one reason or another when you recall them, this was one of them.
“Yeah, I do. You were so nervous, kept fiddling with your necklace, I had to photoshop like half of those damn pictures so you weren’t grabbing at it in all of them.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I was terrified. But you made it easier. You always did.”
“It only ever felt easy when it was with you." You looked at her, the memories flooding back.
—-
The studio was buzzing with activity. Assistants scurried around, adjusting lights, setting up equipment, and preparing the backdrop. You were standing near the camera, checking the settings one last time. For you, the energy in the air was nothing short of electric, this was your game day, this was the thing you lived for.
Paige walked in, her eyes wide and filled with dread. She always liked the end result of getting her picture taken but the process was tedious and dealing with photographers could be just downright unpleasant.
She was clad in her home jersey, the navy blue 5 contrasting sharply against the stark white. She clutched the necklace around her neck, a small silver cross pendant that she would continue to fiddle with incessantly the whole day.
You looked up and saw her, your heart skipping a beat. You'd taken pictures of her before, of course, the night at the gym, a few games, and for a few homework assignments that’s she’d, thankfully, agreed to help with, but this was something else entirely, a shoot. A shoot for Leo.
"Hey, Paige," you called out, offering her a reassuring smile. "Ready?”
She walked over. "Yeah," she replied, her voice missing its usual enthusiasm.
You positioned her in front of the camera, giving her small tips on how to stand, where to look, and how to relax her shoulders. She followed your instructions diligently, though you could still see the tension in her posture.
"Remember to breathe," you said gently. "And try to think of something that makes you happy. It'll show in your eyes."
Paige closed her eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. When she opened them again, there was a spark of confidence that hadn't been there before. She smiled, and you could see the transformation happening right before your eyes.
You didn’t know at the time but all she had done was think about the night she met you.
"That's it," you encouraged, your own excitement growing with hers. "Just like that."
As the shoot progressed, Paige began to relax more, her movements becoming more fluid and natural.
You clicked the shutter repeatedly, the two of you inventing a silent language; thumbs up: all done with this look, change your pose, thumbs down: this isn’t working, give me a second to do change things on my end, palm out: stay still, etc, etc.
By the end of the day, you had captured a series of stunning photographs, each one better than the last as she had gotten more and more used to being in front of your camera.
As you packed up your equipment, Paige had approached you, her eyes shining with renewed sense of excitement. "Need a ride?”
"Oh no it’s okay, thank you so much though” you replied, turning to the girl. “I’m just gonna walk.”
She smiled, her fingers once again playing with her necklace. "No come on, it’s late, I’m driving you.”
You had hesitated despite already knowing your answer, “only if you’re sure," you said, unable to hide your relief.
The two of you left the studio together, stepping into the crisp evening air. The city was quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a serene calm. Paige led you to her car, popping the trunk and helping you load all of your stuff safely in the back.
Once inside, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle as Paige adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. You glanced at her, noticing the way the streetlights cast a soft glow on her face.
"Wanna get ice cream?” Paige said suddenly, breaking the silence. “There’s this cute little place nearby and I’m starving, plus there’s no way the dining hall is still serving dinner.” She’d been so nervous that her words had come out in one breath. It would have been more than just bordering on incoherent if you hadn’t been giving her every single ounce of your attention already, clinging to every word.
You looked at her, surprised by the sudden change in plans but also grateful for the suggestion. You were starving. “Let’s do it.”
Paige grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she turned the car around and headed towards the ice cream parlor. The streets were quiet, the cool evening air settling over you two.
When you arrived, the bell above the door had chimed softly as Paige opened the door for you. The smell of freshly made waffle cones and the sound of soft music filled the air.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that the song playing was the one on an old Etta James record. The same one your grandmother had said was playing at the jazz club her and your grandfather had gone to on their first date. But, you pay in no mind, all of your conscious thoughts consumed by the blonde in front of you.
The parlor was cozy, with a few small tables and a counter displaying a rainbow of ice cream flavors. Paige immediately made her way to the counter, her eyes wide with delight as she scanned the options.
“What are you getting?” she asked, turning to you.
You took a moment to consider, then decided on your usual favorite. “I do this weird thing, I get two kiddie scoops, one cherry and one strawberry and mix them. When I was a kid, my mom used to get strawberry and I used to get cherry and she’d always let me have her leftovers so I mixed them together one day and now I can’t eat ice cream any other way.” You said, smiling.
Despite the fact that you had known Paige for a month, the expression on her face when you told her this was one that could only be described as love struck. There was a gentle warmth in her eyes that caused your heartbeat to quicken and your breath to catch in your throat. It was as if the entire world had melted away and all that remained was the two of you, standing there in that moment, caught up in each other's unspoken affection.
“Here, how ‘bout I get strawberry, and we can do that. You’ve got me curious now” she said.
“Deal. You won’t regret it.” You’d chuckled, reaching your hand out to hers for her to shake, you really had just wanted an excuse to touch her.
You both placed your orders, and the worker, recognizing Paige, had scooped more than generous portions of ice cream into the two cups.
Paige handed you your cherry scoop, and you both sat down at a small table near the window. Paige took a bite of her strawberry scoop, then mixed a bit of it with your cherry. She paused, the spoon still dangling out of her mouth, and her eyes lit up. “Shit this is really good.”
A smile quickly spread across you face. “Told ya.”
For a moment, you both sat in comfortable silence. Each of you dipping into each others cups, giggling when one of your spoons got caught on the others, inevitably making the dessert fall back into the bowl it had just been scooped from. The world outside the window seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy little bubble.
When Paige had finished hers and the remainder of yours after you’d pushed your leftovers at her, the two of you returned to the car.
The drive home wasn’t long but the combination of your fatigue from the long day and the gentle rocking of her car had made you fall asleep without even realizing what was happening.
Pulled up at your dorm, she gently shook your shoulder, “hey, we’re here.”
You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment, then realized where you were.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Paige smiled, her expression tender. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a long day.”
You gathered your things and hesitated for a moment, not wanting the evening to end.
“Thanks for the ice cream, Paige. And for everything else.”
“Anytime,” she replied, her voice sincere. “Get some rest, okay?”
You nodded, stepping out of the car. “You too. Goodnight, Paige.”
“Goodnight,” she said, watching you walk no more than 10 steps away from the car before she was rolling down her car window to talk to you again, “hey, same time next week?”
You’d turned back to her, confused. “What?”
“Ice cream, you and me, next Thursday. Come on it’ll be like, our thing.”
A warmth spread through you at the suggestion, and you found yourself smiling back at her. “Yeah, I’d like that. Ice cream Thursday.”
“Awesome,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s a date then. Goodnight for real this time.”
“Night,” you said, waving as she drove away, her taillights disappearing into the night.
—-
“Hey do you need a ride home, for old times sake?” Paige grabs your attention again as you let the memory fade from into the background.
She's rocking back and forth on her heels as you finish packing up; obviously trying to gauge whether or not she’s overstepping.
You grab the rest of your bags, replying, “that’d be great, thank you" before getting an idea, "hey you know, it’s Thursday, we’ve missed dinner, and if you’re free, I think our ice cream place is still open.”
Paige’s eyes light up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're on."
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige buckets#paige bueckers fic#wcbb#wcbb x reader#wlw#uconn huskies#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers headcannons#fanfic#angst#wbb#paige bueckers angst
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𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐊
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` You took my breath away, So now I can't suck in my stomach around you anymore. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes! (Part of 1K Event!)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Being a single mother after your ex broke things off after your daughter was born was hard, especially with your busy schedule. But with Daniel being there for every step of the way and becoming a father figure for your daughter, you wouldn’t change anything. That was until new fans began to attack you for being wwith him and how he deserves someone who isn’t “ruined”. But Daniel reassures you he wouldn’t be the one to change anything.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Mom!Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ kids, self doubt and insecurity (turns to comfort), small hate from weirdos online, intoxication (nothing bad happends!! just a bit tipsy). (Reader is in late 20’s early 30’s!! No confirmed age)
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ i never wrote for danny before, and i’m trying to improve my other writing skills!
PS. “Touch Tank” is about finding a partner that loves you no matter what you look like and loves you for you 🩷
1K EVENT MASTERLIST
Instagram
y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, redbullracing and others!
y/n_l/nredbull fun never ends in miami! 🌞 congrats to my boys, @ landonorris for winning his first ever f1 race, and my baby girl for winning her first karting race! they grow up so fast 🥹
2,389 comments
username1 STOP IT NOT LITTLE VIVVY AND LANDO GETTING THEIR FIRST WINS BOTH IN MIAMI :((
username2 NOT BECAUSE THE WAY SHE WAS JUMPING UP AND DOWN IN THE RED BULL GARAGE SEEING LANDO WIN 😭🩷
danielricciardo ✔︎ Vivvy is all grown up now 🥲 so happy i got to watch her win her first karting race ❤️
→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ are we going to ignore how you tried like a baby when she held her little trophy?
→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ video evidence??? 👀
→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ sorry max, but i won’t expose the loml like this (i’ll show you it later)
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ this is still my replies you know 🙄
→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ it wasn’t me it was vivvy that wrote that
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ yes because Vivvy knows that your password on your phone is the year we meet.
→ username3 daniel being there for Vivvy and y/n since her douche of a ex left her is my roman empire.
→ username4 no because the way he stepped up and basically said “you’re not gonna the father in her life? fine, i’ll be it then.”
danielricciardo ✔︎ …questioning those last few photos… 🤔
→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ why?? they are perfection 😞
→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ perfection is a bit of a over statement…
landonorris ✔︎ thanks mum 😋
→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ anything for my son ❤️
→ username5 isn’t he like two years younger than you??
→ landonorris ✔︎ no i was actually birthed from her daniel has proof
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ don’t drag me into this.
→ landonorris ✔︎ okay daddy 😏
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ i’m reporting to hr i feel like i need a trusted adult
→ username6 daniel, you are a trusted adult??? bro is 34 😭
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ @ y/n_l/nredbull help me i’m being harassed by people other than vivvy and lando
username7 hey!! i’m now to f1, can anyone explain how daniel, y/n, and vivvy came to be??
→ username8 y/n and daniel met when he was still in redbull and she’s (still) a engineer! they became really good friends while daniel was there and liked y/n but she was in a relationship with a asshole that i won’t spare the details of. He cheated on her multiple times and y/n decided to cut the ties with him once Y/N ended up having Genevieve (Vivvy/Viv). Daniel was there for Y/N and Vivvy and basically stepped up as a father figure to Vivvy growing up and they began dating and here we are now!!
→ username9 stop that is so sweet 😭😭
→ username10 idk it just feels like she was using danny to get viv to have a father in her life
→ username11 okay @ username10 lets just forget that daniel liked y/n for YEARS and let’s just think that y/n has no job for FUCKING REDBULL and was begging daniel to take her and viv in!!
danielricciardo ✔︎
📍 Miami
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n_l/nredbull
danielricciardo not my best race, but happy to have my good luck charms here ❤️ (congrats to laaaaannnndooooo noooooorriiiiissss for his first win)
tagged; y/n_l/nredbull
2,864 comments
username12 daniel avacodo come back is coming guys dw
→ username13 that’s what we said last year 😞
username14 HELLO THE Y/N PHOTO???
username15 MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY?
landonorris ✔︎ my eyes have been blinded by the most unthinkable photo you can show of my adoptive mother.
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ if I can see how fine she is, so does the whole world 🥴
username16 girlie is smart AND fucking hot???
→ username17 milf fr
→ username18 i love women in stem 😩
username19 damn how did daniel bag such a fine woman
→ username20 fine woman?? homegirl has stretch marks and looks like she hasn’t had sleep in days. she’s lucky daniel posted a good photo of her
→ username21 he could choose anyone but he choose the woman that only picked him so her kid has a father 🤢
→ username22 shaming a MOTHER who BIRTHED A CHILD for how she looks like and saying that she doesn’t lover her partner is the lowest of the lows.
Twitter
iMessages
Miami, also known as the Magic City, is a place where the excitement never stops, and the nightlife is always lively. The city is filled with vibrant clubs where the music never seems to quiet down, and the clinking of glasses creates its own unique rhythm. In honor of the race in Miami and Lando's first win, the entire grid decided to gather at a well-established, extravagant club.
To be completely honest, nightclubs were never your cup of tea. The deafening noise, pulsating music, and perspiring individuals dancing into the early hours of the morning, not to mention the sticky floors from spilled drinks, never really appealed to you. When you were pregnant with Vivvy, being able to use the "I'm pregnant" excuse was a blessing, but now, you find yourself preparing to accompany the other drivers' girlfriends for a so-called "girls' night" at the same club.
Lately, the comments people have been leaving on your feeds getting on your nerves. About being manipulative to Daniel for only using him for Vivvy to have a father in her life, to get that you are "too old" for him, even receiving comments that you don't deserve to be with him because you weren't "up to the standards of other men in Formula 1" which were repulsive, to say the least, but... now those thoughts began to consume your mind. As you glanced in the mirror, your eyes trailing over each curve of your body, the wrinkles of your face-
"What's all this?" a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see Daniel, wearing a smirk on his face as he leans against the bathroom door.
You let out a sigh, trying to hide the scowl you were giving yourself. "The girls managed to convince me to join them for the night. They kept insisting that I need to let loose and have some fun," you explain, adjusting your lip liner.
"Maybe they're right. You sound like a grandma," Daniel teases, and you raise an eyebrow in response. "I'm just saying that maybe it would be good for you. Relax, spend some time with the girls," he adds, offering a supportive perspective.
"What about you? Are you going to go and hang out with Max and the others?" You questioned, turning over to look at him, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. Daniel shook his head.
"Not tonight. " He comments with a slight shake of his head, curls bouncing. "Besides, it's your time to have fun, and who'll look after Vivvy?"
"Danny, you aren't obligated to-"
"I know. But I'm the one that wants to spend time with her." Daniel reassures. You smile at him before turning back to the mirror. A slight frown forms on your lips the more you look at your reflection.
"What's with that frown?" Daniel's smile shifts as he sees you look over each crevasse of yourself as he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist.
"Can I ask you something?" You start, placing your hands over his, caressing your thumb over his hand.
"Anything."
"Why me? You... you have anyone you can choose from, Danny. Those models that come knocking at your door at any opportunity, the actresses, the singers, all these beautiful women that have it all and are stunning. And everyone says how perfect they are for you... so, why me?"
"Y/N... look at me," Daniel says, turning you to face him. "I chose you because-"
Before Daniel can respond, the doorbell rings and the bathroom door swings open, Vivvy excitedly rushes into the bathroom, socks sliding on the tile and eventually bumping into Daniel's leg. "Mommy! Aunt Kelly is here, and Miss Alexandra, and Miss Rebecca, are here! They're waiting for you! Oh, and they brought presents!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as Daniel picks her up, securing her in one arm.
"Well, it's rude not to say hello, right? Come on!" Daniel grins at her, using his other to ruffle her head. Vivvy let out a squeal along with a "Danny! Stop it!" leaving her lips with some giggles. You quickly put on some lipgloss before rushing out to meet everyone else.
"Guys, you didn't have to get anything-" You start as Vivvy reaches out for the gift from Rebecca, but she quickly shoots it down.
"Oh please Y/N, it's nothing! Besides, we love Vivvy! It's hard to not get anything for her when she looks at us with those big eyes..." Rebecca explained, beaming from ear to ear as she fixed Vivvy's hair after being messed up by Daniel. You exhaled, Rebecca's bright expression beginning to make your own eyes crinkle.
"Alright, Danny, no sweets before bed, be sure she brushes her teeth, and-"
"Make sure she gets in bed before 8:45. I know, I know. It's nothing new." Daniel replies, rolling his amber eyes in a joking manner. The girls begin saying goodbye, stepping back outside the door, but Daniel grabs your hand making you pause.
"We'll talk about that question later. Okay?" He says, making you blink. "Now go have fun."
You quickly give Vivvy and Daniel a kiss, the door closing.
"Well, Vivvy, it's just you and me now. Let's get this movie night started."
"Yay!"
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑
"Hey, Danny?" Vivvy's voice interrupts Daniel as they both sit on the couch, movie playing in the background.
"Yes, Vivvy?" Daniel turns to look at her, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.
"Do you love Mommy and me?" Vivvy's innocent question catches Daniel off guard, but the shock in his eyes soon turn to tenderness as he takes a moment to formulate his response.
"Of course, I love you both very much," Daniel replies, his voice filled with sincerity and love. "You and your mommy mean the world to me." Vivvy smiles contentedly, snuggling into her blanket as she listens to Daniel's reassuring words.
“Did i ever tell you on how we met?” He questions, moving her little strands of hair away from her face.
“A lot.” Vivvy mumbles, voice muffled from the soft material she’s clinging to.
“Well, how about I start from the very beginning?”
“Not again…”
iMessages
Real Life
As the night wore on, the club's vibrant atmosphere seemed to seep into your very bones. Despite your initial reluctance, the pulsating music and the infectious energy of the girls pulled you in. Kelly, Alexandra, and Rebecca kept you on the dance floor, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. Drinks were shared, stories exchanged, and for a few hours, you forgot all about the comments and the insecurities that had been weighing you down.
But now, as you stumbled through the front door of your home, the effects of the night were starting to catch up with you. The room swaying slightly, and you had to steady yourself against the wall. The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the television coming from the living room. You made your way toward the sound, the familiar warmth of the home drawing you in.
Daniel was on the couch, a sleeping Vivvy curled up next to him, her little head resting on his lap. He looked up as you entered, a gentle smile spreading across his face.
"Hey, there you are," he said softly, careful not to wake Vivvy. "Did you have fun?"
You nodded, the room still spinning a bit. "Yeah, I did. But I think I might have had one too many drinks." You giggled, trying to keep your balance as you approached the couch.
Daniel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sounds like a successful girls' night."
You plopped down next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. "It was. But... Danny, can I ask you something?" Your voice unsteady slightly, due to the mix of alcohol and lingering doubt.
"Of course," he replied, turning to face you, his expression becoming serious as he sensed the change in your tone.
You took a deep breath, the question that had been haunting you slipping out before you could stop it. "Do you really love me? Even though I have Vivvy and... I'm not as young or as glamorous as those other women you could be with?"
Daniel's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. And Vivvy... she's not just your daughter, she's our daughter. You two are my family."
"But all those people say—" you started, but Daniel cut you off with a gentle kiss, silencing your doubts.
"Don't listen to them," he whispered against your lips. "They don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much Vivvy means to me. You're the one I chose, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief and happiness. "Thank you, Danny. I needed to hear that."
He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "Anytime. Now, how about we get you to bed?"
You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. As Daniel helped you up and guided you to the bedroom, you glanced back at the couch where Vivvy was still sound asleep. Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.
"Goodnight, Vivvy," you whispered softly.
Daniel smiled as he tucked you into bed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Goodnight, my love," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to get Vivvy into her own bed.
As you drifted off to sleep, the lingering doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be – in the arms of the man who loved you and the family you had built together.
#☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula one x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one imagines#formula 1#formula one#f1 fic#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#lando norris
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What I Will Do For Mike
Good morning, it’s Saturday at 630am. This will not be fun, but I know it’s imperative for my own health as well as any possibility of keeping my current job. Let me start quickly with something positive first. In early February I finally attempted to work on my personal healing and growth. In February March and April, the results were fantastic. Even my therapist was impressed, and friends were telling how much I had grown, and how proud they were of me. I was feeling very wonderful and being kind to myself and others, until May arrived, and I was quite painfully reminded that I still had a good bit of work to do. Then I remembered some 12-step wisdom regarding early recovery that had been shared with me over 20 years ago. While this current situation has not been caused by drugs or alcohol, it’s still a process of recovering, so here is the quote, and this is exactly how it’s gone for me.
First it gets real good
Then it gets real bad
Then it gets real
I’m hoping and willing to work for real!
I must admit, the biggest problem I had last week was dealing with the 3 hour shift change. Every day felt like I had a case of perpetual jet lag. Even staying up until 10 or 11, I still woke up around 4 am every morning, and was unable to go back to sleep. While this does not and cannot justify unacceptable behavior, even the sales rep involved told me after the incident to make sure I let both of you know how exhausted I was all week. I could also tell you how stressed, anxious and hurried we both were, but I know I am and WILL BE accountable for my actions. I now have a little faith in me and if given a chance, although I’ve done very poorly so far, I am now willing and capable of following the suggestions and directives I have been given. the last time we briefly met, you asked; What can we do to help you? I would ask for this one thing alone, because I am basically doing and or moving forward with everything else I’m supposed to, and deserved or not, feeling exhausted 24/7 has most definitely not helped. I’m only asking for the “opportunity” to give my best while knowing there is a zero percent chance of me keeping my job if anything like this happens again. You also asked me what I would do differently. I have answers that I can and will use in the future, but first I feel like I need to address Problem #1.
Despite my repeated stubborn, childish and even unwise denial of this truth, the primary reason I’m deeply in trouble with my job currently is due to my interaction with a young co-worker. While I’m neither going to attack or defend her, I must accept the fact that my actions and less than wise decisions have led me here. My only course of action for myself and for having any possibility of salvaging what was remaining of my career is to end all interaction with her except in a very limited professional manner. Closing on this topic, at least 6 friends, a psychiatrist, and now 2 therapists have told me in no uncertain terms that I need to distance myself from her. I am now WILLING and READY to do this!
What I would do differently if given the chance would be to use the tools I could and should have used in the first place. My first option would be to speak with my director who is both knowledgeable and much calmer than I will ever be, when a situation seems to be going in a non-positive direction. I also have read and will put into use some other options rather than always verbal. I can and will use written tools such as Slack and Monday. Another very good option would come from my meditation reading and beginner’s practice. Before racing over to engage, sit as quietly as I can, and take a few deep breaths. If this not enough, take a few more, but DO NOT start a conversation while agitated.
Another challenge which I have faced and am working on positive results is having been diagnosed with type 2 bipolar disorder including anxiety and depression by a psychiatrist in February. While it obviously does not excuse inappropriate behavior, it does, to me at least, explain some of the thoughts and behavior I’ve experienced and exhibited over much of my life. I am taking antidepressant, mood stabilizer, and anti-anxiety/sleeping medication. A little over a week ago the dosage was doubled for the first two, and it seems to be working fairly well. I’ve also been seeing a therapist once a week since I started taking the medication. The results have been excellent, and have the visits have improved my outlook on life over the period. Unfortunately, she left the facility where I was seeing her in order to open her own practice. I did not see anyone for three to four weeks and the results were obviously less than spectacular. Following your recommendation, I called the EAP and began the process of finding a new therapist. I believe I’ve had great fortune in this effort and I’ve now had two very productive sessions with her, and will see her again Thursday Afternoon.
To finish up for now, there were a few other interesting interactions between myself and the particular sales rep over the day and a half we spent on this project. However, that’s not particularly relevant to our discussion involving my actions as well as my willingness to improve them.
Thank you,
#prose#something pretty serious I'm going through with my job#to be shared with my companies executives#What I Will Do For Mike
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There really aren’t words to describe the simple queer joy that is lounging on the couch shirtless after top surgery.
#queer#nonbinary#top surgery#the simple queer joy of going for a run after top surgery#the simple queer joy of flopping in bed after top surgery#the simple queer joy of treating your own chest like a drum kit after top surgery#it’s like breathing. it’s like getting to breathe for the first time in 20 years.#I love my scars and I love my silly ease within my body and I love how#even if I still don’t look quite like I feel I should in other ways (hips face lack of muscle in my arms)#I FEEL like I feel like I always should have#and the sense of home within my body is more enormous and somehow simpler than I could ever have words for#though fuck knows I’ll keep trying#because it’s important. if not for me then for kids who think they’ll never get here#you can. you will. it’s exceptional and you deserve to feel exceptional in your own bones
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WARNING FOR ANIMAL DEATH/MUTILATION IN THE TAGS
I think I’ve figured out why it’s the stuff with my cats that gets me the most viscerally upset when it comes to my roommate and I think I need to tell him why that is… we had a talk and he apologized for a lot of stuff but I just feel like I need to explain why I react so intensely to him hating my cats/wanting me to get rid of them
#like there’s the obvious things I’ve said before that ANY pet owner would feel the same about obvious#but like. okay I love cats. I’ve loved cats my WHOLE life#not just cats but animals in general#animals were baby’s first special interest#and I grew up on a farm and I had usually at least 8 pets at a time growing up#that I got money for by doing odd jobs and you know as a child you can spend all your money on your hobbies#and I love animals so I had pets#specifically I always had at least 3-4 cars#*cats#my mom’s first husband hated cats… fucking DESPISED them#and he talked about hating them/getting rid of them all the time#and. well. when I ever did anything to really piss him off#(which you know as a nine year old could be something as simple as breathing too loudly or some shit)#he would kill them#that man killed probably like 20 cats#cuz even after I was old enough to process ‘don’t get more cats bad things will happen to them’#my mom would bring home cats cuz she ALSO loved and wanted cats#even when I would beg her not to because I knew they were going to die#she never cared because in that moment she wanted cats#and obviously this was awful and damaging#and now that I live on my own with my two cats who are my BABIES that I love and cherish#my roommate talking about hating them and wanting them gone….#yeah it’s uh. um. hitting some really specific nerves#obviously I do not think he would EVER EVER do something like that#because you know. he’s not an insane control freak who hates me and animals#it’s still hitting those nerves#and yeah I think I need to tell him that for us to start coming to an understanding#like i get you don’t LOVE my cats you don’t have to#but you can’t talk that way about them… or I’m going to get VERY upset and defensive#kaz rambles
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Hard to believe this was a year ago today.
I’m still so grateful I was able to see POTO the night of the 35th anniversary; it actually brings me to tears. 💕
#POTO#y’all if I think about it too long I start to fuckin cry#nothing will ever live up to that night I stg#because if I’m being real w y’all…getting to experience what I did made me content w/ being alive for the first time since I lost Mercury.#like I remember thinking to myself toward the end of the show ‘maybe it’s ok I’m still alive bc things like this make it worth it’#like ik some ppl would read that and be like ‘it’s a fuckin musical it’s not that deep’#but it fuckin is. I’ve loved POTO for almost 20 fuckin years#and I experienced something that made me feel true happiness in I don’t know how fuckin long#also not to brag (and sound insane) but *ahem* I was in the same room as ALW. Like I was breathing the same air he was breathing 😭#AND I got to sing with Emile and Ben…yeah so maybe it was ‘happy birthday’ bUT FUCKIN STILL
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Fucking christ
#managed to escape to bed before 11#dad put on some american thing and then went out to help my grandparents' carer with my grandad getting to bed#im pretty sure my stepmum's upped her methodone to cope with being alcohol sober for the first time in at least 20 years#shes falling asleep and slurring her words just the same as she always has#idk we don't talk about it#idk if dad's done the same but he's very proud of not having had a drink for 6 months#anyway i woke her up so there'd be less bother about me going to bed#and she gets me a pillow cs i didn't have one and is like#and is talking about like my dad goes out to help his parents every night (in a tone of voice of isn't it awful)#and how my nan's looking better than she was - which is good obviously#but i can't help thinking of the other week my nan couldn't breathe or really talk and rang my stepmum to help her#because she couldn't breathe and thought she was dying#and my stepmum told her like. all as if it's trouble. oh well i can't stay long ive got things to do.#to an old woman who's lungs are full of fluid. who can't breathe. and thinks she's dying.#anyway.#im going to do my best not to think about any of that#oh also one of the characters in the american thing dad put on is trans and my stepmum was immediately like oh dyou think she's a man?#no. no i do not think she's a man. fuck offfffff#anyway. anyway.#i am. going to turn my brain off from stress by watching death in paradise
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actually the fact that odysseus knew he'd be gone for 20 years makes the gears in my brain turn. You kiss your son goodbye knowing you will miss every milestone of his. He will be a grown man and will not remember you. You will be a father only by title. Your wife will lay alone in your wedding bed, she will wake and see the side you've slept on is empty. You won't hold each other for a long, long time. Your parents may not even be there to welcome you back. You know you will return, but the war stretches on and on. Your comrades fall. Your ships are on fire. Your best warriors are nothing but ashes in an urn. But it's eventually over, you can go home. But still, there's more time left. First it's a storm. It's winding up in strange lands. It's hunger. It's temptation. Your men grow weary. You have twelve ships and then you have one and then it's only you on a single timber. You know you will return, but everything has gone so horribly wrong that you can't help but wonder if the fates fooled you. Everyone you know is either dead or are living again. You are the only one stuck in between. Neither dead or alive. You sit on a beach staring out to the sea from the moments the birds sing til the sun dips over the horizon. Every day is the same - you sit on the stones and weep, you trek the shores, during the night you're in her bed. Your skin is cracked and sunburnt, your beard long and tangled, your hair etched with more and more silver hairs. Your eyes are dull, sunken. Your bones ache when you walk, your breath is shorter. The sun rises and sets. The waves wash away your footprints. You are growing old but the island is the same. You are left behind. Your home will change and you won't change with it. In fact, everyone will change, but you will not recognize what's different. Some of the lines under your eyes will be the hauntings of war, while your wife's will be from the sleepless nights of buying you time. You flinch when you see each other. You expected to see someone else, and she expected to see no one at all. You could once hold your boy in your arms, but now it feels like he's the one holding you. The trees in your orchard have grown taller. Some of the houses in your kingdom are empty. The children that sat on your knees now have their own children on their own knees - or they lie dead, by your own hand. Who are you? Who is your son, your wife? You will get to know each other, you will change together eventually. But there will still be something off, like a brick not fitting quite right in the foundation. Off like a living man among the dead, someone who wasn't fated to die, but was supposed to die a long time ago. A dead man among the living. You will not belong, even though you are the father of your son, the husband of your wife, the son of your father, the king of your land. There will always be something missing, something aching.
And you are willing to let it all happen when you lift your baby son from the field, away from the plow.
#*throws up* do you get it.#odysseus#procrastinating on schoolwork woohoo#niko rambles#you could've left your baby boy to die. you'd have more kids.#but you didnt.
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The Ballad Of Dr. Reid
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial
Word Count: 1.9K
Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking.
In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.
He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.
You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.
It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips.
What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.
His hands on-
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you.
“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today.
The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.
There was no clean getaway.
“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”
Fuck.
Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”
“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.”
He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class.
Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university.
“Really?”
“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke.
There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.”
The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment.
“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his.
You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.
The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down.
“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point.
The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips.
“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.
This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut.
“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.
His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.
“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating.
With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open.
“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded.
“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan.
As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.
There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.
Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.
Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did.
As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Deal.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader smut#strawbeerossi kinktober 2023#dr reid#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid thoughts#spencer reid au#spencer reid scenario
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i could talk about this frame for the rest of my life
#HE JUSTKFHDKFJDLF#AGH#'i dont wanna end up like my father peter please' DO U WANT ME DEAD#harry is so desperate and helpless its awful#amd he tries so hard to keep up the mean angry ceo act but he just. he cant with peter.#something abt being with peter is different. he cant be mean to him here. he tries to! he tries! he snaps at him!#and u could say that hes purposefully playing into peters morality and need to help ppl to get what he wants but i dont think so#i think harry is a scared kid. hes only 20 and he has to tell his best friend that hes dying.#harry is horrified of ending up dying and alone like his father. and for the first time in almost 10 years he has someone to go to.#so he goes to peter. his closest friend. only for peter to tell him that he might not be able to help him. and it destroys harry.#hes heartbroken and desperate and angry with him for not being able to do what he needs him to#WHICH MAKES SENSE#in this hug. if u watch it. harrys shaking.#hes shaking and breathing heavily and his eyes are shut tight and he cant. seem to let go.#AND U WANNA KNOW WHAT PETER DOES.#peter just stands there!!!! doesnt do anything!!!!!!!#i mean yeah hes just realized his best friend is dying and wants spidermans blood to see if itll heal him but damn.#hug the man pete like holy fuck#even in this frame u can see how sick harry looks. hes thinning and his eyes have dark circles and he just seems weaker#he gets worse as the movie goes on until he turns into green goblin and then he just looks alien-ified#BUT YEAH. THIS SCENE DESTROYS ME. this scene is the one that changes their dynamic for the rest of the film#theyre no longer carefree best friends who just got reunited after nearly ten years. theres something in the way of that now.#AGH. THIS MOVIES ALMOST TEN YEARS OLD. DO U THINK THEY INTENDED FOR SOME GUY TO BE ANALYZING IT THIS DEEP TEN YEARS INTO THE FUTURE.#peter parker#harry osborn#the amazing spider man 2#tasm2#parksborn
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Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.
It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.
On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.
I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"
That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.
Never.
These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.
And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.
Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.
You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.
But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.
That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.
It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.
Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.
Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.
Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.
They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.
But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.
I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."
(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.
Fucker.)
But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.
I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.
But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.
The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.
That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.
The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.
#long post#uncensored slurs#slurs#homophobic slurs#ronald reagan's grave is a gender neutral toilet#lgbtq#queer#trans#transgender#fag#dyke#lgbt
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Subscribe
Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Masterlist
Wordcount: 7,103 - oops
Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.
Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.
Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.
Joel’s never been on a site like this.
But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.
With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.
As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.
Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.
His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?
Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.
He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.
For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.
Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.
Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.
Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.
Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.
—
A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.
When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.
Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."
You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"
You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."
You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.
You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."
You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."
As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”
As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.
As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.
He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say
cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.
He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.
A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.
you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?
He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.
cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.
You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.
you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏
You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.
cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.
You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.
Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.
cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.
you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.
cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.
you: I can't wait.
As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.
—
As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.
You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ
The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.
With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.
you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉
You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.
Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.
cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?
you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉
You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.
cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.
you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏
cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.
You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!
cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’
what I'm about to send you.
you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉
cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘
As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.
The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.
You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.
You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response
you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.
You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.
As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.
cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.
You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.
you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉
cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.
As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.
The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.
—
As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.
Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief
"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”
Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”
You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”
Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.
You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”
Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.
Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”
Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.
As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.
You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.
With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.
He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.
As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."
You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.
As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.
The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.
Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.
You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."
Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.
Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.
You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."
Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.
"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.
You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.
"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"
“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."
"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”
Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.
You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.
"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”
With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.
—
The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.
He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.
Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.
Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.
And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.
“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."
Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.
"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.
Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.
He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.
"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”
Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.
Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.
"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.
"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.
You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."
With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.
As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."
Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.
“You're gonna make me come.”
You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.
The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.
You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."
With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.
"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"
Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.
As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"
Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."
You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."
Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.
"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.
You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.
Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.
For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.
Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.
You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"
Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."
You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.
Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.
You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."
Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.
Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”
You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."
You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.
As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.
You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.
Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.
Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."
He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."
You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.
As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.
When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.
"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."
You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.
Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."
Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?
Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.
Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."
Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."
You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."
You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"
He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."
With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.
As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."
You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”
And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.
Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x f!reader#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Bad Idea
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw 18+, mdni, virginity loss, age gap! Levi is in his 30s, the reader in her 20s, oh this is rough filth
Levi didn't care about the assigned rooms, his mind focused on the upcoming mission. His grey eyes follow the building where he will be staying for the next few days before heading outside of the walls. He heads inside, looking for his room number, he wonders if you're ready there and what you think about having to share a room with him. He knocks before entering just in case, the last thing he wanted to do is make you uncomfortable. When you say that he can come in, he does, carrying not but a single bag with him. The room was small and it had a single bed. Great. Just perfect.
You look at your Captain before your eyes fall on the bed, there was space for the two of you but it didn't make the situation any less tense. "I can sleep on the floor." That makes Levi look at you as he closes the door behind him, if anything he is the one who can sleep on the floor or the chair, he has a hard time sleeping anyway. "Nonesense There's room for both of us." He adds, setting his bag down on the bedside table, you don't speak on the matter further, he is the captain and questioning his orders is a bad idea. You nod not knowing what to say next, you don't know him that well.
As the sun set you were getting ready for bed, you had an early day and couldn't wait to get under the sheets, even of they are the same sheets your captain will be using too. After changing into your pyjamas and brushing your teeth, tou came back into the room which was now dimly lit as Levi sat at the desk writing at the paperwork with a candle burning next to him. He pays you no mind continuing to do this thing, you don't want to disturb him but you had to ask. "Ugh captain, which side would you like?" That catches his attention and he looks back at you, his eyes checks you up and down quickly before answering. "Who fucking cares. Sleep where you want." With that he turns back to finish the paperwork, he sighs slighty, you were a pretty girl in his eyes and it irritated him. "And please call me Levi."
Getting under the sheets, you try to make yourself comfortable, the only noises in the room are the quill Levi is writing with. You close your eyes trying to get sleep to wash over you but it doesn't, instead you turn and twist in the sheets, he makes you nervous, incredibly nervous and you would never admit to anyone just how much you're attracted to him, he was good eight years older than you and that added to the appeal. You rub your thighs together slighty, this wasn't a place to think about those things, he never even looked at you differently, it was ridiculous to get these naughty thoughts especially now when the man was in the same room as you. And you don't even know what it feels like, you were never with a man, sure you had your kisses but your first was something you want to give someone special.
After sometime of tossing in the bed, Levi sits on his side, your back in turned on him but you can hear him take his boots off. Was he going to sleep in his uniform...? Levi lays down on the other side, keeping his distance, he knows you're not sleeping and wonders what is keeping you awake. "Can't sleep?" He asks after sometime, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "..no...my thoughts won't let me." You say with honesty, it was the truth however you definitely aren't telling him what kind of thoughts tho, he doesn't need to know. Levi looks at you, your back still turned on him, you look around the dark room, waiting for him to reply. "Your thoughts huh? Or is that you don't want to share the bed with me?" Levi can tell by your body language that something is up, you don't seem all too comfortable.
"What?? Not its not that.....I am not uncomfortable it's just-" You cut yourself off, not wanting him to think less of you. Taking a deep breath you continue to talk. "I have never shared a bed with a man." Those words are said quickly and quietly but Levi hears them all. A slight curiosity runs through him, it shouldn't, you were his subordinate, he really shouldn't be thinking what he is thinking right now. "Is that so? Never had a boyfriend?" There's something about his voice that sounds mocking, almost as of he is teasing you. "Not really." You mumble, it wasn't that you didn't want a relationship, it's that all the men your age seem....immature. "I just- I guess men my age aren't exactly-" "Your type?" He cuts in, already seeing what you're trying to say. "No, not my type at all." You shiver as the thought of being with him runs around your mind, you should really get that fantasy out of your head.
There's a shift in the air, you feel as if he can read all of your mind and exactly what you're thinking of. Levi scoots closer to you, you feel his body coming closer to your and you freeze. "What is your type?" He runs a finger down your back and you have to hold back a moan you aren't pulling away, you don't want to. When he sees that you aren't stopping him, he moves even closer, he removes your hair to expose the back of your neck. Leaning closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, another shiver running down your body. His lips make contact with your skin, he nibbles gently on your neck, his hand move down to your waist, his hand running under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach. Levi wants to hear you, wants to hear your moans, what's to make you beg. He bites into your skin and that causes a moan to surpass your mouth, Levi groans, it's even sweeter than he thought, he needs more.
"Turn around." He says, voice filled with lust, you do as you're told, turning around to face him. Levi is still in his uniform, his straps are undone and his cravat hang around his neck. You feel your panties get wet a little more, slightly embarrassed you look away but before your head can turn, Levi grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. Levi's thumb runs across your lip, your eyes shine with desire and he loves it, craves it. "I'll ask you this only once so answer honestly. Do you want me to fuck you?" His words surprise, Levi isn't sugercoating it and he clearly isn't a romantic, that makes it all so much more appealing. You swallow and then answer. "Yes." It's a desperate tone but not enough for Levi. "You can do better than that." He needs to hear it from your pretty lips. "I want you to fuck me, Levi." You don't look away, looking him straight in the eyes and you swear that he smirks for a second. "Good girl."
He kisses you, his hands pull you closer into his body. You follow his movements, kissing him the best you can while your hands wrap around him. Levi turns you onto your back to get on top of you, his kisses growing more intense, his tongue enters your mouth, a slight moan escaping you as his fingers spread your thighs apart so he can lay between your legs comfortably. You can feel his boner pressing against your clothed pussy and without much thinking, you roll your hips wanting more contact. Pulling away from the kiss, he growls. "Mhh there you go." He kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trace of open-mouthed kisses, his hands start exploring upwards, eager to undress you. You're supposed to be nervous but you aren't at all, all you want is for him to take you, it's even better than what you imagined.
You start to get braver with your hands, they wonder around his upper body before pulling on his shirt wanting it off his body. Levi gets message, he bites into your neck, leaving a mark behind before pulling away to get rid of his shirt. His naked upper body comes into your view, you have seen it before when he was patching up his wounds but this was different, those perfect defined abs and biceps, the v line running down into his pants, you bite your lip, your fingers running down his abs. Levi kisses you again, it was his turn to have you undressed, your hands run down the muscles of his back, his hips rolling into your as he kisses you sloppily. His hands are roughly pulling your shirt over your breasts, he doesn't take it off entirely, he doesn't need to. His lips move to your neck again, he kisses over the red spots he left earlier on it, Levi starts to move lower kissing over collarbone before reaching your breasts. His eyes lock onto them, admiring them for a second before he looks at you, your eyes are telling him all, you want him even more than he let on.
"Fucking perfect." Whispering under his breath, he takes the plush flesh into his hands, massaging them. A loud moan comes out of your lips, your hand fall to grip the sheets. Levi's mouth closes around your nipple, he is still holding your breasts in his hands, pushing them together. "Mhh Levi!" You whimper his name and in return Levi swirls his tongue around your swollen bud, you gasp, hands flying to his biceps. He pulls away from your nipple, his saliva connected to your nipple. "So fucking eager aren't you?" He sucks on the other nipple, his fingers playing with the other one, pinching it between his fingers. Your head falls to the side, the pleasure is overwhelming and he isn't even touching you where you need him the most yet.
Levi sucks and plays with your nipples for a few minutes and you feel like you can cum just from that. Starting to stir, Levi bites into your bund playfully, making you dig your nails into his bicep. He moves on, kissing your stomach and biting here and there, leaving marks that will remind you of the fact that he got to have you first. Not some useless boy your age, him, your captain. His lips reach the rim of your pants and he teases you by licking across your navel and than up your stomach, he bites into your breast, leaving a hickey there too. "Levii!" Again, you sound desperate, wanting him to move on. "Begging are you sweetheart? How cute." He is definitely mocking you now, his teeth bite into your other boob, sucking on the flesh even more intensely.
When you start to stir, Levi slaps your thigh lightly as if telling you to behave. After marking your breast, he finally moves on, he takes the hem of your pants and pulls them down, revealing your panties. He immediately sees the wet spot on the fabric, spreading your legs he goes lower, his face directly in front of your core. That gives you a shiver, your legs threatening to close but Levi is quick to spread you open again. "No, no. Keep them open for me, understood?" You nod, that's not enough, he wants to hear your voice. Putting one of your legs over his shoulder, he bites into your inner thigh, once again marking his territory. "Understood, Captain!" You say, your fingers treading through his raven hair. "That's a good girl."
His bites reach closer and closer to your wetness, when he reaches your pussy, he presses kisses on the wet spot over the underwear. Your hips buck slighty, another sound emerging from your swollen lips, this was all so new and Levi was doing it so good. He kisses the spot again before hooking his fingers around the fabric and pulling your panties down, he throws them on the floor next to his shirt. Your legs close again on instinct and Levi is quick to spread them open again, his eyes glued to your folds and he watches it it twitches under his gaze. "All this wet pussy for me huh?" He leans down gently licking your slit, you tug on his hair, your hips bucking more, this feels so good, better than anything. His grey eyes shoot up to your face, every expression you make fuels him up more. He starts to eat you out, his tongue skillfully working on your pussy, you start to move around, gripping onto anything you can, his mouth feels amazing.
"You like that don't you, sweetheart?" His fingers grip your thighs leaving marks on the flesh, he moves his hand to your stomach, leaving it there while skillfully working on your wetness with his mouth. "Yes! Oh fuck Levi!" Your eyes start to roll back, Levi groans against your cunt, the sound sending vibration all through your heat. Levi's tongue finds your clit, he starts with slow licks, driving you crazy, the moans you're letting out are music to his ears. "So fucking sensitive." He uses his fingers to rub your folds while he sucks on your clit, he needs to prep you for the real thing. His fingers enters you and that causes your back to arch, rubbing more against Levi's mouth. Its certain that other can hear how loud you are but Levi could care less, the louder you are, the more turned on he is. The fingering starts off slowly, his finger pumping in and out of you. "Fuck you're tight. Can't wait to fuck this wet cunt."
Levi spits on your pussy and then starts to eat you out again, his jaw moving faster and his finger moving more gently, its a perfect combination. Sometimes starts to built up in your stomach, it feels like butterflies are flying all over your abdomen, like a burning fire but the fire is pleasure instead of pain. Adding a second finger, Levi's hips start to rut into the mattress, he needs release soon but this is all about giving you a night you won't forget. "Levi! I am-hhhghh!" He starts to finger fuck you faster, his fingers reaching that gummy spot as his mouth works on you. And the sounds, oh they are nasty wet and loud but Levi isn't slowing down, his mouth pulls away, his fingers still pumping into you. "Yeah? Gonna cum aren't you? Be a good girl for me and cum." His head rests against your thigh, his mouth and jaw are glistening with your jucies. You pull on his hair, a loud moan od his name comes out of you, your hips buck, legs shake, it's the most intense thing you have ever felt, your walls clench toghtly around his fingers and you cum, completely overcome by pleasure.
Your head falls back against the pillow, your breath heavy as you calm down from your high, Levi pulls his fingers out slowly. He puts them in his mouth, teasting you once again, kissing up your body again, Levi's hands massage your thighs. When he gets to your face, he kisses the aide of your face. "Need a moment?" He asks, nibbling on your ear, his fingers interlocking with yours and you nod. After a few moments you open your eyes looking at him, you're cheeks are red, mouth wide open, he wants to revish you, fuck you until the only thing you know is him and him only. He kisses you on the lips, the kiss as sloppy as the previous one, you kiss back, your fingers squeezing his hands as he has them pinned above your head. Eventually when he let's go, your hand runs down his body again and this time your tug on his belt, undoing it for him. "Good girl, so eager to get fucked." You bite your lip at his words as his belt comes off. Levi helps you, pulling his pants down with his underwear, he gets rid of it and again throws it on the pile of clothes on the floor.
Curiously, you take his hard cock into your hand, rubbing it up and down. Levi grunts in response, your hand felt so warm and perfect. You pump him in your hand a couple of times before letting go, giving him a sigh that you want him inside of you. "I want you inside of me, Levi." He kisses the side of your neck, you feel his hair brushing your skin. "You'll get me, sweetheart. I can't wait to fuck you." He grabs the base of his cock before positioning it against your entrance, you whimper feeling hic cockhead rub aagsint your wet opening. "Fuck....you want me huh?" Levi wants you to beg for it, he needs it all. "Please Levi! Please! I want you to fuck me." That's all he needed, he pushes his hips forward, his cock pushes past your walls, you gasp, hands gripping the sheets as you close your eyes. "Oi! Eyes on me, let me see you." Looking at him, you watch as his face narrows slighty and then his hands grab your hips. "Can I move?" Despite the list in his voice, there is care there too and you nod, grabbing the mattress even tighter as you feel him move.
He starts to fuck you, enjoying every single moan and response of your body. It's slighty painful but the more he moves, the better it feels. Levi starts to thrust harder inti you, your moans get louder, it feels so good. "You're so..fucking...tight. You feel so good, baby." Your hands run up and down his back as he continues to ram into you, his cock feels like it was made for you. Levi hisses when your pussy clenches around him, he lifts your hips up slightly to get deeper inside of you. "Fuuuck Levi!" Your nails dig into his back, his cock hits that deep spot inside of you, causing you to almost see starts, you won't last much longer before cumming again. Levi starts to pund you faster, letting out rough grunts and groans, you feel so good, so right, it's driving him mad.
Before you can react, Levi pushes your knees up to your chest, folding you and then slams into your harder, your moans are swallowed by his lips as he kisses you passionately. He moans agasint your lips when you keep clamping down on him, your body arching more into him, his nails dig into the back of thighs, he keeps you spread, fucking you harder. You pull away from the kiss when his cock hits your cervix, it's painful but feels so good at the same time. Levi grabs your hair making you look at him. "Keep those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you, baby." His forehead presses agsint yours, his thrusts get messy, he is getting close and so are you.
The knot in your stomach is creating again and this one is somehow more intense than your last climax. "Shit..I'll cum deep inside this cunt.." He fucks you in a slower pace and you feel as his cock twitches inside of you, that's nrouhh for you as you feel yourself cumming around his cock. "Atta girl. Cum for me, cum around my cock." His hands are gripping your hips so hard you're sure they will leave bruises but you don't care, not now. Levi fucks you through your orgasm, he tries his best to hold back as much as he can and he knows he shouldn't cum inside of you however it's irresistible to him, he wants you filled with his cum.
With one last groan, Levi slams hard into you and then cums deep inside of you. Your nails are still digging into his back, his cum feels warm filling you up to the brim. Levi kisses you on the lips as he finishes cumming, he pulls your body closer and let's go of your legs. The sheets are ruined beanth you but that's not a worry for either of you right now. You return the kiss, your fingers gently running down back, feeling the scratches you left behind. Both of you pull away and Levi looks at you, his eyes looking over the marks on your body, he almost feels bad, almost, he is proud of his work. Proud that you trusted him enough to let him do this. And now the mission is that much more exciting.
#levi#levi ackerman#attack on titan#aot levi#captain levi#levi x reader#levi attack on titan#levi x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi smut#levi x y/n#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman x reader smut#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman x female!reader#levi ackerman x fem!reader#levi x female reader#levi x fem!reader#aot smut#aot x y/n#aot x reader#aot x you#attack on titan smut#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman smut#aot levi ackerman#levi aot
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Danny goes on Vacation and leaves his job to his Co-workers
So! Danny hasn't had a break from his Hero Career since the day he turned into a Ghost. He has been constantly fighting battle after battle against his worst enemies one after the other.
Even after joining the Justice League, he didn't really have a chance to take a break. He never really asked for help because it didn't seem like a big enough deal to bother them with. He just kept on working.
Until the day he accidently mentioned this to one of his Co-workers, and they practically Force him to take a Vacation.
He has been fighting Crime, nearly every single day since he was 14, with at most a day or two in between battles for all that time, and he is now entering his 20's. They are horrified that he never asked them for help, no matter how easy the job may have been.
After a while of convincing him, they eventually get him to agree to tale a Month-Long Vacation.
He actually gets really excited after he agrees, and he is planning on exploring deep space for the entire month. He is actually really looking forwards to it now, and seeing this everyone who volunteered to take over his Patrols all promise that they will absolutely not bother him until the trip is done.
So, Danny leaves for his Vacation and the other Heroes set up shop in Amity Park.
Danny left them instructions on how to deal with Ghosts, how to pacify specific Rogues, and how to sent them back to the Ghost Zone when they are done. They feel like they are fairly well prepared for their Month Long Mission, especially since Danny described it as a very easy job.
Then the first Rogue Attack happened.
The team dispatched there, made up of a few mid-level JLA Members and some JLD Members for safe measure, takes nearly an Hour to defeat the Ghost. And they barely manage it.
They are surprised at how hard it is, but are even more surprised when they find out that the "Box Ghost" is labeled as a Low-Level Nuisance.
So, they call in a few higher level members to help. They do not want to interrupt Danny's Vacation.
Then they have to call in more JLA members, and again, and again.
By the time Danny managed to get back from his Vacation, the Founding Members and all JLD have been called in.
He thanks then for the opportunity to finally have a break.
Danny: Seriously, thanks guys. This was the best break I've had in years.
JLA: *out of breath and haggard* yeah dude...no problem...let me just sit down for a minute...whew!
Danny: Oh, I can't wait for the next time I can go on vacation!
JLA: *looking like this: 😐* ...yeah sure bro...
#Dpxdc#Dp x dc#Dcxdp#Dc x dp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Danny takes a Break#Danny goes on Vacation#Danny severely underestimates himself and his Rogues#The JLA find out that Danny hasn't had a break since he was 14#They immediately force him on a vacation#Cue their instant regret#They do not call Danny back for help because they promised that they wouldn't#Also they have too much pride to admit that they are desperately in need of the help#(And they are embarrassed that they needed the help of a few civilians last time it happened)#Danny when he gets back: You guys look a little tired#JLA on their last legs: We look Awesome#(Yes that was a Steven universe reference)
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Alright, I'll say it: Jack Harkness and the Doctor's relationship is possibly the most fleshed out/complicated dynamic in Doctor Who and that is INCLUDING the master/doctor relationship. Seriously, think about it:
the fact that when they meet jack is presented as sleazy con man and the doctor makes him brave- makes him good
but that they are both willing to die for rose as long as she is safe
and then she comes back and dooms them both to live (even though jack has already died for her and the doctor WILL die for her)
(ninerosejack is canon and you cannot convince me otherwise)
but then the doctor sees jack as immortal as someone he COULD spend the rest of his life with
and instead of embracing it like you'd think he would because he is so wrecked by people leaving him/being left by him the doctor RUNS bc the Doctor is so scared of jack of what he means of what he is
jack ends up abandoned in dalek dust goes back in time to find the doctor suffers a hundred years alone/being tortured but STILL WAITS
(screw amy being the girl who waited or rory being the boy who waited- Jack Harkness is the boy who waited and he did it FIRST)
Jack finds out that he was abandoned. that the man that he loves HATES the sight of him. that the doctor would rather have a genocidal murderer than have him
and so Jack gets the hell out of dodge to go to a man who DOES love him
and don't get me wrong Jack loves Ianto and Jack DOES remember Ianto until he dies as the Face of Boe don't forget that (protecting Novice Hame from the virus as he couldn't Ianto
BUT AFTER EVERYTHING THE DOCTOR HAS DONE TO JACK JACK STILL LOVES THEM
Jack still considers five billion years cursed to never die to be BETTER than the alternative: dying a young time-agent-turned-con-man
Jack has more reason than any other companion save maybe Amy to hate the Doctor & yet spends 20 years in jail to rescue Thirteen still LOVES HER
AND AFTER FIVE BILLION YEARS HE ORGANIZES THAT FIRST MEETING ON SATELLITE FIVE HE ORGANIZES 9/ROSE'S FIRST DATE
jack harkness is a living ghost a reminder of the doctor's failures a physical fixed point and yet he still loves the girl who cursed him and the time lord that turned him into the kind of person that would give his dying breaths to protect the last of humanity in a dying city and tell the doctor that he is not alone
because fuck it, YANA was a warning but also a reminder a final gift
jack had been there all along, a ghost an echo a PROMISE
there is no more human character than jack harkness
#jack harkness#captain jack harkness#meta#tenjack#ninejack#ninejackrose#ninerosejack#nine x jack x rose#ten x jack#the face of boe#tenth doctor#ninth doctor#thirteenth doctor#thirteenjack#thirteen x jack#i still have a lot of feelings about this man#janto#ianto jones#his story SHOULD BE TRAGIC and in a lot of ways it is but it also beautiful and optimistic about the strength of love and the human spirit#jack devoted himself to the doctor and was spat out but he welcomed it#simm!master
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