#or forced to by his dad/the law
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problemswithbooks · 9 hours ago
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I will agree that calling Stolas names isn't very nice, nor does it add to OP's criticizing, but I understand where they're coming from. I'll explain why OP and others might agree with the idea that Stolas staying in the marriage doesn't make sense, and therefore people like OP blame him for staying.
Stolas going to the party wasn’t about “obligation.” It was about avoiding whatever retaliation Stella would dish out if he didn’t. Abuse operates on control, and the victim learns to navigate around the abuser’s unpredictable wrath to minimize harm. Stolas went because, in his mind, the fallout of staying home likely felt worse than enduring a miserable evening at Stella’s side.
I'm sorry, but where is this at all backed up by the show? Stella's tone in no way conveys that she cares whether if he goes or not. Stolas in no way is fearful of Stella in the scene, and even curses at her when he asks what is going on. The show in no way presents Stolas as going simply because he's afraid of retaliation, and given Stella didn't even give him the invitation herself and he only found out because it was in the paper, it's unlikely he's obligated to go for societal reasons.
Hell, I could equally argue that Stella did not want him to come at all. Hence, her not even telling him about the party and her making her awful comments about him as close to him as possible because she wanted him to overhear--her retaliation for him showing up. It'd also explain why she didn't care that he left. If she wanted him to be there, she'd have been angry he wandered off and go find him and drag him back.
The reason Stolas is at the party is that the plot needed him to be there. It needed him to be miserable, so he'd drink and then get so excited about Blitz being there. He's not in any way shown as being there because of some hinted threat by Stella. Due to the short run time of these episodes, surly the writers didn't feel like any reason needed to be given as to why Stolas would attend, abuse or having nothing else to do, either way. They simply needed him there to move the plot along, so that's why he's there at all.
Which is why, especially since they put in Stella's shrugged "You can come if you want" line, makes it look as if he went to an event he knew he'd hate for no reason.
Stella’s volatile personality made leaving a high-risk move. The likelihood of her retaliating—socially, politically, or even physically—was enormous. Stolas staying wasn’t about being a “sucker for punishment”; it was about survival. And let’s not forget, he had Octavia to consider. He believed staying gave her a chance at stability, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Yes, leaving an abusive relationship is hard, but none of the reasons that that's the case apply to Stolas (at least as far as he knew).
Stolas is one of the most powerful people in Hell. He outranks Stella's brother. He has immense magical power that Stella seems totally lacking. It is not an elected position and he never seemed worried at the possiblity of lossing it if he became unpopular. After Octavia was born he was under no obligation to stay so that seems to rule out his father refusing to let him leave. Financially, he was fine after the divorce and only lost everything because of the Full Moon Deal he made with Blitz came out.
Sure, you could argue it might have effected his social standing, but he seems disliked by most of them anyway. Plus, Stella is already ruining his social capital with the upper class as it is, by publicly badmouthing him, so it's no benefit, socially, for him to stay.
Stella is only shown as a stupid bitch, who is never nice, ever, so it's not as if the relationship is going through the usual cycle where the abuser apologizes and acts nice for a while, therefore luring their victim into thinking they've changed, and giving them happy times to remember, which makes leaving harder. Stella and Stolas always hated each other, so that's not why he stays either.
Abuse creates a cycle of control, self-doubt, and helplessness. Victims internalize their circumstances, convincing themselves that enduring the abuse is the safest or only option.
Yes, abuse does do this, but that is not what we are shown for Stolas.
He is never afraid of Stella. EVER. Instinctively, he protects his face when she throws things at him, but that's it. He never holds himself back from telling her what he thinks or showing he's angry with her out of fear. As I said before, he wasn't even less harsh or careful before he stood up to her. He doesn't show any signs of being affected by Stella's abuse, either, like subconsciously flinching away from Blitz yelling and getting in his face.
Hell, even after he finds out she hired Striker, he's not afraid. Instead, the focus is on his relationship with Blitz, and it's not portrayed as him doing so, because he's so afraid that he wants to distract himself with the one possible good thing in his life.
This take also misses how abuse warps decision-making when children are involved. Stolas stayed because he genuinely believed that keeping Octavia in a two-parent household was the lesser evil. Was it the right call? Maybe not. But it wasn’t about stupidity—it was about trying to protect her within a deeply broken system.
The problem with this is that, again, Stella is only shown as pure evil. If she's always been volatile, someone who never bothers to hide how awful she is, who will always say the mean thing regardless of how dumb a choice that is, then there is no reason for Stolas to ever assume Octavia having her mom in her life is a benefit. If Octavia, as we've been shown doesn't and has never, had a relationship with Stella, why would Stolas risk the possibility of Stella being cruel to Octavia? Which--given what we've seen of her, would be the most reasonable conclusion.
Plus, as I pointed out earlier, from everything we've been shown, and for all Stolas knew at the time, the systum would have been on his side. At most, he may have had to do pacial custody (as we see in the show) and lost a bit of money. Even if other Goeita don't like him, he seems to have more then enough power/high enough title they couldn't have done much about it.
And let’s not act like leaving would have been a magical fix. Stella isn’t the kind of person who’d let Stolas walk away quietly, much less take Octavia with him. She would’ve weaponized every ounce of her power to destroy him and maintain control over their daughter.
Again, where are you getting this?
Stella for all that Stolas knew, up until Striker kidnapped him, was leaving without a huge fuss (for her). At most, she wanted more money, which from the dialog doesn't appear he was lawfully obligated to give her. She never asked for Via and both of them seemed fine with taking turns with her. It was her brother's idea to 'manipulate' Via (which they don't really do, considering they can't stop loudly bragging about how evil they are in front of her) because he wants Stolas's power.
She's not presented as desperate for control over Via at all. She only hired Striker because Stolas cheated, not because she wanted to keep sole custody of Via. And, while yes, I think it's likely she would have tried to kill Stolas if he simply divorced her, we see no evidence to suggest Stolas thought that (he doesn't even notice when she hires Striker over the phone in front of him). Nor is he concerned about her brother in any way. The best we get is him saying "I don't care what your brother thinks" which more implies that he thinks Andre will simply be squawking in his ear about the divorce, which is annoying but not a threat.
If you can’t understand that, maybe it’s time to rethink how you approach character analysis—or better yet, try learning a thing or two about the psychology of abuse before you come for Stolas again.
I'm sure some people who don't like Stolas don't understand abuse or what it does to someone, but that's not everyone who points out issues with how he's portrayed. Personally, I, due to my own circumstances have to live with my abusive parent, so I get the psychological effects and reasons why someone wouldn't choose to leave an abusive situation. The problem is that the show does a poor job of conveying this reality with Stolas. Inturn this makes people not understand the situation he's in.
This isn't really a Stolas problem--he's not real. It's a writing problem. Not just for Stolas but for Stella. There were multiple ways to make this narrative work, even in small ways, like actually showing moments where Stolas was nervous around Stella, particularly in that pre-divorce flashback (similar to Moxxie and his abusive father).
Instead of a nonchalant, "Come if you want", have her say "you know what will happen if you don't come" with one of her malevolent smiles.
Maybe when he meets with Ozzie and sees Striker is involved, we get a shot of him being scared, and when he steps up to help Ozzie it's clear he's doing it in hopes of perhaps getting back at Striker in some small way.
Have Stolas flinch when Blitz gets in his face during Apology Tour, with it becoming more and more clear as they fight that he's growing more afraid/triggered by the fight, until he, in a panic, warps Blitz away. And instead of following Blitz right as he's kicked out we get a shot of Stoals trying to calm down before he has a full blow panic attack, maybe Stella's voice mocking him in his mind, with him trying to shrug it off while he looks down at the invitation, showing that part of the reason he goes to the party is to get his mind off of his past abuse.
During Sinsmas at some point he catches Stella watching everything down below and freezes momentarily in sudden fear.
Just, simply present it as Stella actually being someone he sees as a threat, someone who can actually do damage to him if he leaves. Instead, the show presents it as Stolas having all the cards. He has the money, the power, and social position (Ozzie, a Sin, likes him, and Vessago likes him too, so he's not completly isolated politically) to not just leave but leave Stella with practically nothing (so far all her social standing and personal wealth seems to come from Stolas, given she moved back in with her brother after the divorce and Andre says she'd get nothing if Via inherits). If he has no fear of her, if he'd lose nothing finacially, or socially, or politically. If his father isn't making him stay, then it does come across as him simply staying because...well, he wanted to.
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The Lens of Abuse: Understanding Stolas’ Actions
💁🏽‍♀️🤖: Before we dive into the nitty-gritty, let’s remind ourselves of one critical fact: Stella is abusive. The show doesn’t beat us over the head with it, but the signs are everywhere—from her open contempt and cruel insults to her explosive fits of rage. Her dynamic with Stolas is defined by control, belittlement, and a lack of empathy. Abuse isn’t just about physical harm; it’s about creating a constant undercurrent of fear and power imbalance, and Stella wields both masterfully.
When analyzing Stolas’ choices—whether it’s staying in the marriage, going to that party, or how he handled things with Octavia—it’s essential to understand that they don’t exist in a vacuum. Abuse clouds judgment, limits perceived options, and forces victims to prioritize survival over happiness. Let’s break down why this perspective is crucial to understanding Stolas and why the critique of him being “pathetic” or “a sucker for punishment” completely misses the mark.
1. “He didn’t have to go to the party” — That’s Not How Abuse Works
It’s easy to sit back and say, “He didn’t have to go.” But when you’re in an abusive relationship, even basic decisions like this are never simple. Abusers like Stella don’t offer real choices—they create situations where every option carries a punishment.
Stolas going to the party wasn’t about “obligation.” It was about avoiding whatever retaliation Stella would dish out if he didn’t. Abuse operates on control, and the victim learns to navigate around the abuser’s unpredictable wrath to minimize harm. Stolas went because, in his mind, the fallout of staying home likely felt worse than enduring a miserable evening at Stella’s side.
Calling him “pathetic” for attending the party is an oversimplification that dismisses the psychological toll of years of manipulation and coercion.
2. “He didn’t have to suffer in the marriage” — Leaving Isn’t Easy
Here’s the thing about abuse: leaving isn’t just a decision—it’s a process. Victims often stay in harmful situations because of fear, obligation, or a belief that leaving will only make things worse. Stolas’ marriage to Stella wasn’t just an unhappy partnership; it was a deeply ingrained system of control.
Stella’s volatile personality made leaving a high-risk move. The likelihood of her retaliating—socially, politically, or even physically—was enormous. Stolas staying wasn’t about being a “sucker for punishment”; it was about survival. And let’s not forget, he had Octavia to consider. He believed staying gave her a chance at stability, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
The idea that Stolas “didn’t have to suffer” ignores the reality that, for victims of abuse, the path out often feels blocked, whether by fear, societal expectations, or the abuser’s power.
3. The Cycle of Abuse: Why Stolas Didn’t Leave Sooner
Abuse creates a cycle of control, self-doubt, and helplessness. Victims internalize their circumstances, convincing themselves that enduring the abuse is the safest or only option.
Stolas wasn’t “just an idiot who can’t turn down obligation.” He was stuck in a dynamic where Stella controlled the narrative and made him feel powerless. Add to that the societal expectations of Hell’s elite, and it’s no wonder he felt trapped.
When victims like Stolas finally leave, it’s not because they’re suddenly smarter or braver. It’s because something shifts—whether internally or externally—that gives them the push they need. For Stolas, this shift came when he chose to pursue his own happiness, even at great personal cost. That’s not idiocy; that’s growth.
4. Octavia and Parental Decisions Under Abuse
This take also misses how abuse warps decision-making when children are involved. Stolas stayed because he genuinely believed that keeping Octavia in a two-parent household was the lesser evil. Was it the right call? Maybe not. But it wasn’t about stupidity—it was about trying to protect her within a deeply broken system.
And let’s not act like leaving would have been a magical fix. Stella isn’t the kind of person who’d let Stolas walk away quietly, much less take Octavia with him. She would’ve weaponized every ounce of her power to destroy him and maintain control over their daughter.
Stolas’ decision to stay wasn’t about weakness. It was about navigating a situation where no option felt truly safe.
5. Why This Argument Falls Apart
This take boils Stolas down to “an idiot who can’t turn down obligation,” but that’s an insultingly shallow reading of his character. Abuse isn’t about obvious choices or easy outs—it’s about power, control, and the psychological toll of living under constant threat.
Stolas’ actions make perfect sense within the framework of an abusive relationship. Calling him pathetic ignores the complexity of his situation and dismisses the very real struggles that abuse victims face every day.
TL;DR
Stolas’ behavior isn’t about being “pathetic” or “a sucker for punishment.” It’s about the psychological realities of abuse: the fear, the manipulation, and the way it warps decision-making. Leaving an abuser isn’t easy or obvious, especially when children and societal expectations are involved.
If you can’t understand that, maybe it’s time to rethink how you approach character analysis—or better yet, try learning a thing or two about the psychology of abuse before you come for Stolas again.
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tommygotwrittenoff · 13 days ago
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the fact that eddie and maddie have never interacted outside a group setting is so funny actually. you cannot tell me those two wouldnt get on like a house on fire. i fear the day we get a solo maddie and eddie scene is the day we get buddie canon
#like. those two have had such similar experiences#being forced to grow up at a young age#complicated feelings about their dead spouses (ik d**g was VERY different from shannon but im just going off what maddie canonically said)#struggles with how good of parents they are#running away from their families as a way of doing what is “best” for the family#like. they have so many shared experiences#their lives have been running parallel and theyve never really intersected and realized just how similar they are#but if maddie han was alone in a room with eddie shed get him to confess his feelings for buck in like 15 minutes flat#hed ask about jee and maddie would be like. shes great. shes having a wonderful day with her dad and uncle buck.#and eddie would be all yeah. chris is probably having the time of his life with buck and uncle chim. and jee ofc chris adores that kid.#uncle chim? shed saying stirring her coffee#and eddie would be like yeah??? hes bucks brother in law? doesnt that make him chris's uncle?#oh. i didnt realize. so buck is like a parent to chris?#well yeah bucks been there since. since we met him. you know how he is. bucks great. always shows up. he shows up the way a parent should s#hmmmmm. yeah. i thought so too eddie. he really has a soft spot for chris. ive never seen him like that for any other kid.#hes like that for jee. eddie says#its different. buck is a great uncle and loves jee but hes her uncle. hes not attending pta meetings for her or signing her up for camps#though. maddie laughs. he probably would if we asked him to.#yeah. eddie would agree with a fond smile. and maddie would narrow her eyes at the dreamy little look on eddies face as he stirs in creamer#so. if buck is like a parent to chris. what does that make him to you?#and eddie would blink and be like. well. hes. hes buck. you know. hes my best friend.#yeah. but the person i want to attend pta meetings with and to look through summer camp posting with is howie. my husband. my best friend#and eddie would just. well thats. thats different. you guys are married. ofc you do that stuff together#we were doing this stuff together before we got married. we had a life together. a family together before we were married#shed take one look at eddies wide eyes and be like. someone once told howie that if he loved me he should tell me and it was the best piece#of advice anyone couldve given us when we were dancing around each other. so im passing your advice back to you. if you love him tell him#and then yayyyyyy we get eddie choosing buck and buck being chosen and yay everyone is happy and everyone wins#(especially maddie since she doesnt have to deal with these oblivious idiots anymore)#me thinks
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stealingpotatoes · 2 years ago
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Honestly Mace would have loved Luke and Leia with his whole heart.
yes!!! honestly he's like a grandparent (in the dynamic way, not age way) bc he was harsh on anakin but you KNOW he's much more caring for the twins, like how a grandparent is strict on their kid but gives their grandkid literally whatever. and anakin's like where was this for me
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artdecosupernova-writing · 10 days ago
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my husband's surgery is on the 10th and I'm anxious as hell but once he's out of the hospital I'm going to finally wrap up this damn book and publish it
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proheromidoriyashouto · 2 years ago
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The People VS Gwen Stacy au where Miguel and Jess just picked up the Vulture and left, not stopping Captain Stacy from raising the gun toward Gwen a second time and shooting her on reflex.
Gwen bleeding out on a stretcher to an ambulance, face exposed to the world as a million cameras flash.
Gwen twisted up in the agony of her father choosing to be a cop before being someone who loves her with a bullet in her liver but a hole in her heart.
Gwen Stacy's face posted all over the news before she's even on the operating table at the nearest hospital.
Gwen Stacy arrested for the murder of Peter Parker, handcuffed to the railing of her hospital bed.
Gwen Stacy arriving at the court house in a wheelchair because she is fresh out of surgery and can't walk, meeting her lawyer, Matt Murdock for the first time.
Gwen Stacy villified by J. Jonah Jameson and the police union to the point other heroes, like Daredevil, have to come out of the shadows to protect her from a public lynching.
Gwen Stacy, abandoned by everyone she should've been able to trust.
Spiderwoman alone against the court of public opinion.
#across the spiderverse au#gwen stacy#i ahve been having thoughts about the movie#i've watched the opening a hundred times and im still as insane as i was the first time#like what if her dad shot her because miguel and jess being consummate professional just bagged the anomaly and left#what if it was after he'd seen her face and thus she was forced to face the world maskless#her father appears to be a bad cop in general#conflicting orders and escalation#wouldn't his testimony conflict with any autopsy done on peter's body#matt murdock and foggy saw/heard the breaking news and broke so many traffic laws getting out to Chelsey NY to take a case probono#in light of the mobs of people outside the court house and hospital Matt convinces a judge to release Gwen on house arrest#Daredevil briefly granted custody of Spiderwoman for her own safety#gwen breaking down and crying in the bathroom of his Hell's Kitchen apartment#miguel looks in later and while he feels bad this is the canon of her world#he adds Earth-65 to patrols for other spiders while Gwen is on indisposed and if he happens to lead them well he's the boss#he visits gwen and apologizes but doesn't mention that he could've stopped it#miguel struggling to understand how gwen's father shot her after seeing her face and knowing it was his precious child behidn the mask#gwen clinging to matt murdock and miguel o'hara and the other heroes who come by and offer support and love and let her heal#INSIST that she heal under their wings#gwen's found family#idk who else i'd have in this jsut want my girl to go through it and come out stronger and more loved than anything
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jils-things · 1 year ago
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since i have laras permission to post shit he made heres another favorite old art done by her ☝️☝️
this literally summarizes everything there is to know about these guys
#love this art too hard because like#1) stevaide kisses (which is something im so shy to do)#2) gold and ruby are there#3) gold is angry and ruby's innocence is protected /jjjj#4) oc friend is present (pokelara) (he's babysitting them I think HAJAAJSJSHSJJ#im not sure why but i just felt compelled to make gold this opposing force to not like stevaide at first#i like to think gold thinks people like him are stinky bleghhh and definitely thought steven was a team rocket mf (they all wear black)#so he was immediately against this#he didnt care when jaide (hypothetically) went uhm so there's this guy (i dont think she'd talk like that BUT HYPOTHETICALLY!!!)#but when he saw the pretty boy it was so joever for mister St.even Stone#but eventually he accepts him and they have a funny dynamic going on (where steven tries to make gold like him)#gold actually does start to like him because he actually feels relevant. we all know how the hgss arc went down#still i think gold is still too high and mighty to kinda cave in and go yeah i love my brother in law but he really does appreciate him#and of course - to see someone love jaide. he's happy for her (and like how jaide is happy that gold has his own circle of friends AAACCKC)#WHY AM I SUDDENLY TALKING TO DEEP ABOUT THIS IM#FUCK IT IM STILL TALKING#ruby probably doesnt mind the pda (because he adores them and doesnt feel embarrassed about it) until franticshipping confession happens#because I fucking love the idea of ruby watching his mom just gently mwa his dad and then hes like OH GOD WHY AM K THINKING OF SAPPHIRE EW#(hes in denial ok how long did this boy take to be fucking HONEST WHILE SAPPHIRE TRIED HER HARDESTTO CONFESS MF)#HE WOULD FIX HIS GLASSES AND TURN AWAY. OR COUGH. AHEM. MOM PASS THE DRINK PLEASE (gettin them to stop fucking sweet talking at the TABLE)#SHSBDBBSSJDJSHS OH MANN SEE THAGS HOW MUCJ I ADORE THIS ART BECAUSE YOU CAN GET AN IDEA OF JOW EVERYONE IS HERE SKSJDHHSEJS#💚 for me#lara tag#ruby.fam#gold.fam#stone family tag
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as someone who is really bad at celebrities and famous people, it took me a while to realize just how much Hawaii 5-0 tried to pack in cameos. 
I’d be watching an episode and go ‘wow....this actor sucks so much’ only to later learn that they weren’t an actor at all! 
But like on the other coin of this, I was an Iron Chef fan before I started watching H50, so seeing the Chairman play Wo Fat is still one of the things that’s fucked me up in sense of media translation but not in character. 
Still vastly disappointed that Alton Brown didn’t get to play a villain on the show. He would have been amazing! 
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lilislegacy · 10 months ago
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did anyone else ever find it odd how easily zeus offered percy godhood? and how it almost seemed like he secretly wanted percy to accept? well i did, and after thinking long and hard about it…
i don’t think percy understood what turning down godhood really meant
demigods do tasks for the gods because they don’t have to follow any rules. they aren’t controlled by anyone or anything. demigods are a strange hybrid - not god, not human. they are in between the laws of immortal and mortal. they are not supposed to exist. yet they do, which is what makes them so extraordinary.
percy is crazy powerful. of course, there’s the aspect of raw power. he has domain over air (storms/hurricanes), land (earthquakes and volcanic eruptions), and sea (monster waves, tsunamis, floods, basically anything that involves water.) he can control bodily fluids. he has super strength (with one hand, he held up an unconscious annabeth who was being pulled down by both arachne AND the forces of tartarus). he has super speed (he moves faster than bullets in TTC). no matter how badly you hurt him, he automatically heals and regenerates the second he touches water (an ability no other demigod has). he’s an extraordinary swordsman. very skilled in combat and warfare. he’s smart, and thinks of plans quickly. but he also has a great deal of social/poltcial power… i mean, he’s a leader and hero to both the greek and roman camps. if he says “attack,” all demigods, greek or roman, attack. no question. do you have any idea how threatening that is to the olympians? he’s also best friends and has an empathy link with the lord of the wild, which basically means all of nature is by his side too, including all land creatures. he’s also prince of horses, which means pegasi too (both of which are extremely useful in battle). and of course all sea creatures, including the mythical ones like krakens and leviathans. not to mention many of the gods really like him. hermes, hephaestus, athena, aphrodite, and dionysis have all gone out of their way to help him. artemis holds him in high regard, especially since he saved her. apollo literally considers him his friend! and poseidon - his dad, the god who is the biggest threat to zeus - is fiercely protective of him and cares about him a great deal. many minor gods also like him because he demanded them to be given more respect and for their kids to be welcomed at the camps.
percy unknowingly has more power, both physical and social/political, than anyone should ever have. he may have absolutely no idea, but it must scare the living daylights out of zeus. by accepting zeus’s offer to become a god, percy would have submitted himself to the control of zeus. zeus would be his king and ruler. zeus would then have complete control over him.
but percy said no. therefore, percy remains out of zeus’s control.
percy had no idea what he was doing. but thank the gods he made that choice. thank the gods he’s an incredible person. thank the gods percy jackson has no desire for power, because he has more of it than anyone should ever be able to have.
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astonmartinii · 3 months ago
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the king of monza can do what he wants | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem alonso!reader
the king of monza can win the race, have his relationship exposed and challenge his soon-to-be father-in-law to a duel, he can do what he wants.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
oscarpiastri
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liked by olliebearman, danielricciardo and 432,095 others
tagged: lilyzneimer, yourusername, charles_leclerc
oscarpiastri: double header means we crashed on my adoptive parents' couch and forced them to cook for me (only y/n, obviously)
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user1: does he know this isn't his private account?
user2: SHUSH DON'T TELL HIM
user3: we need to enjoy this while it lasts
jackdoohan: oscar, there's still time to delete this
oscarpiastri: why would i delete this?
oscarpiastri: oh
oscarpiastri: oh no
jackdoohan: you might want to warn your kinda dad you've exposed the identity of your kinda mum as your kinda grandad is probably putting out a hit on him as we speak
fernandoalo_oficial: don't call me a grandad 👿🤬😡😠💢😤
jackdoohan: OSCAR QUICK HE'S DISCOVERED EMOJIS HE MUST BE REALLY MAD
user4: fernando, are you okay?
fernandoalo_oficial: i want that frenchies head on a stick
charles_leclerc: i am monegasque!
fernandoalo_oficial: so you do actually want to die?
yourusername: okay let's calm down old man
fernandoalo_oficial: SILENCE I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! THAT'S THE MAN?
yourusername: yes!
fernandoalo_oficial: no.
charles_leclerc: i object!
lancestroll: his eye hasn't stopped twitching since
charles_leclerc: i don't care! he might be crazy but I'M IN LOVE SO BRING IT OLD MAN
user5: wtf have i woken up to this morning
user6: the public execution of the prince of monaco
yourusername: just because he has a samurai tattoo doesn't mean he knows how to use a sword
fernandoalo_oficial: i will tear him apart with my bare hands
user7: i fear this comment section alone has undone all of his funky grandad tiktok PR
user8: he's going to make charles cry in the press conference
yourusername: oh well, charlie is hot when he cries
user9: and how do you know that...
yourusername: that's none of your business 😈
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,312,088 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: italy has my heart and so do you <3
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user11: queen got exposed and immediately started flexing her unbelievably sexy bf
yourusername: why wouldn't i? he's so damn FINE
charles_leclerc: teehee (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
user12: you might as well have told me to kill myself
fernandoalo_oficial: enjoy your weekend charles, it will be your last
charles_leclerc: and if i win? i think suspended sentence?
fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 i have a proposition for you
yourusername: why are we acting like he wouldn't do that for free
carlossainz55: excuse me?
yourusername: i'm calling you a jealous bitch xx
carlossainz55: what is your price nando?
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not fucking paying you, i was assuming you'd do it in a jealous rage anyway
carlossainz55: ???
user13: the way carlos is being jumped from both sides unprovoked
user14: which ever alonso it is, they choose violence
oscarpiastri: so ... am i off the hook yet?
yourusername: you know we can't say no to you
fernandoalo_oficial: oscar you might actually be my favourite now, thank you for bringing this to my attention
oscarpiastri: sure i'll take it!
charles_leclerc: you can have my heart and everything else for as long as you want
yourusername: looks like you'll never get it back ;)
charles_leclerc: that's fine by me if i get to spend it with you
yourusername: i love you :P
charles_leclerc: i love you more ( > 〰 < )♡
fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 1,209,566 others
fernandoalo_oficial: cash prize for anyone who can actually track down this little rat - i just want to talk i swear
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user15: it's official everyone, he's gone crazy
user16: as crazy as he is at least he's bringing the DRAMA 🤩
yourusername: this isn't very peace and love of you
fernandoalo_oficial: that has never been the way in this family
fernandoalo_oficial: but let me make this clear, i mean in a destroy all of your enemies way rather than a jos verstappen way
maxverstappen1: ???
yourusername: destroying our enemies does not mean you can do your best jos verstappen impression and drive your aston martin into charles
fernandoalo_oficial: don't be stupid y/n, the aston martin is too slow, i'm going to steal his brakes
yourusername: and how will you do that boomer
fernandoalo_oficial: ferrari are stupid they probably still haven't changed the passwords or locks since i left
yourusername: @scuderiaferrari excuse me???
scuderiaferrari: ....
user17: so like this is a genuine hit?
user18: mob boss!fernando alonso you are so special to me
user19: sorry charles but it's so sexy
charles_leclerc: drop the address senor i'm not scared of you
lancestroll: he brought the samurai sword btw
yourusername: @f1 DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY SECURITY MEASURES ???
f1: it made a good tiktok 👍
yourusername: you people are useless
charles_leclerc: no worries my love it's all under control
fernandoalo_oficial: i will carve you like a christmas turkey
yourusername: you go anywhere near charles with that sword we're both going romeo and juliet style
user20: what on earth is going on
user21: just smile and wave i think we're watching collective hysteria
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f1
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 3,562,778 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
f1: CHARLES LECLERC WINS FOR FERRARI AT MONZA
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user23: bro heard fernando was gonna steal his brakes and simply just drove so fast he didn't need them
user24: he was like 'oh you want my head on a stick? TRY AND CATCH ME'
yourusername: pretty boy is so so talented it's not fair
yourusername: who am i kidding
yourusername: STUNT ON THOSE HOES I LOVE YOU BABY
charles_leclerc: thank you baby, i simply had to drive so fast so i could give you a kiss
charles_leclerc: and also so i could tell your dad to SUCK ON THAT OLD MAN
user25: he's had too much champagne and might actually get himself killed
user26: i will throw myself in front of that sword for him
yourusername: you and me too buddy - i'll cover your drinks for this evening
fernandoalo_oficial: i still want him dead
charles_leclerc: what the fuck do you want from me? i just won? did you see that freak of an orange car? i look after your daughter like i looked after those tyres
yourusername: so romantic 🤭
fernandoalo_oficial: he just compared you to tyres? have some standards i raised you better?
yourusername: believe me, i do have standards - he's special xx
fernandoalo_oficial: i also won monza with ferrari he's not that special
user27: at least he's stopped with the samurai sword talk?
user28: he did say he still wants him dead though
maxverstappen1: @yourusername why couldn't you have dated lando? would've made this championship a lot easier
landonorris: HUH?
yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about standards
charles_leclerc: hehehehehe
landonorris: HUH???
charles_leclerc
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 4,523,099 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: grazie mille tifosi !! this is for you and all of your support. i'm glad my family and my love were here to see this win as well. fernando, bring your sword, i'll fight for your daughter's hand.
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user29: i love this family and i've known them a week
user30: fernando might have to go through me as well at this point
yourusername: i love you so much and you have deserved this and more for so so long xx
charles_leclerc: i couldn't do it without you (and our weird little grid family)
yourusername: you're my favourite person in the world and i just love to see you happy
charles_leclerc: you make me the happiest man in the world
yourusername: i love you
charles_leclerc: i love you too
user31: as cute as all this is ^^ where is this duel
user32: can someone PLEASE STREAM IT !!!!! I WILL PAY
user33: I NEED IT I NEED IT
fernandoalo_oficial: come outside
lancestroll: he spent all of the debrief sharpening the sword btw
charles_leclerc: i'm ready girlypop
fernandoalo_oficial: GIRLYPOP ???
yourusername: PEACE AND LOVE BOZO
maxverstappen1: can we get this show on the road please?
lewishamilton: charles please hurry up i've got some serious cash on this tussle
yourusername: how much we talking?
charles_leclerc: i might die and you're checking the wager?
yourusername: because i have faith in you !!!!
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,136,344 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: he's alive and he's a winner! the king of monza can do what he wants
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user35: prince of monaco? king of monza? bro is collecting titles
yourusername: my husband next 🤞🏻
charles_leclerc: bet
user36: is ANYONE GOING TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DUEL
georgerussell63: it was extremely unprofessional and there will be an extensive powerpoint covering how this won't happen again
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll fight you next time george
user37: don't go off TOPIC
charles_leclerc: i out strategised him lol
oscarpiastri: what he means is that he surprised fernando from behind and wouldn't stop hugging him until he agreed that he wouldn't skewer him like a kebab
charles_leclerc: and it worked! now look he's on my boat giving me his blessing
user38: you're telling me charles hugged his way out of the conflict?
user39: perhaps the most babygirl he's ever been
user40: we need the pictures SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL
fernandoalo_oficial: fine, i guess he's okay. i'm not calling him the king of monza though
yourusername: i knew you'd come around
fernandoalo_oficial: i love my daughter SORRY
yourusername: don't lie to me you only calmed down and accepted it because i called in the reinforcements
user41: i'm crying she called babysitters for her dad
yourusername: jenson and mark, idk how you deal with him
jensonbutton: the stress of him and his antics keep me skinny
aussiegrit: i think we're all trauma bonded
charles_leclerc: i'll be the king of monza, if you'll be my queen
charles_leclerc: and i will continue to do what i want
yourusername: i'll be your queen anywhere you want
yourusername: and if doing what you want includes fighting my dad... let's turn it down a lil
charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything
fin.
note: here yall go - this was in my drafts half done from monza weekend but life got crazy
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ultimate-marysue · 4 months ago
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Setting the stage. Duke is trying to create a distraction to cover for Damian sneaking more animals in the mansion.
Duke: so B, I know it's amoral to have a favorite child but, who's your favorite in law?
Bruce: oh no..
Dick, vibrating with the force of sun: It's gotta be Babs. She literally invented the Batgirl mantle! She's arguably the most useful of all of us as Oracle. We wouldn't be half as effective without her. Plus, she's the daughter of your pal Commissioner G!
Cass, not willing to lose, especially to Dick: Uh-uh! Steph is Robin and Batgirl. He wants her to be Family, he always says!
Jason: yeah, my boyfriend is an ex-addict, teenage dad that kills people and loves to explode things, I'm sitting this one out. Have fun.
Tim, thoughtful and ignoring Jason: hang on, he can't technically have them as favorite in-laws because they're part of the family. In that case, Bernard should win. He's smart, from Gotham and hasn't done anything bad ever.
Damian, still covered in feathers: that's debatable Drake, your boyfriend was in a cult. Plus Ortiz at least knows how to defuse bombs!
Duke, remembering his girlfriend was accused of being part of the Latin kings (and was part of We Are Robin): yeah, well, she's lovely but we don't need to get lost in the details
*chaos, screaming amongst the kids. Cass bites someone*
Bruce, staring at the camera: it's Roy. Lian is my first granddaughter and the others need to really get their act together if they want to keep up. Steph is a close second but she didn't keep the baby. Nice try, but no granddaughter.
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specialmouse · 6 days ago
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(the Al-Anqar grandchildren)
DONATE
Nabil Al-Anqar worked his entire life to provide for his family; his beloved wife Fatima; his four children, Mohamed, Ahed, Ghada, and Khaled; and his grandchildren, Lama, Amir, Fatima, Noor, Eman, and Nabil. He owned an aluminum workshop before the war. It took him many years to save up for an apartment for his family, but at the age of 61, he finally did it: a beautiful apartment on the top floor. It was a physical testament to his hard work, and his youngest son Khaled was to be married here.
A month later, his dreams were destroyed by IDF bombs.
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(The apartment, before and after)
Nabil’s family was forced to evacuate several times. Instead of the new apartment, the Al-Anqars now are seeking refuge in a partially-developed UNRWA school that receives no aid. The windows, still not fully installed or broken entirely, have blankets stretched across the frames in an attempt to keep the cold out. Sewage spills out onto the streets. Bombs kill dozens in refugee tent camps not half a kilometer away.
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(Pictures of current conditions)
Nabil has no way to support his family right now other than this GoFundMe campaign. The price of flour has risen to 150-200€ a bag. Nabil’s grandchildren, some as young as 1 year old, lack shoes and winter clothing to protect themselves from the chill.
As ceasefire talks intensify, so has the Israeli bombardment of Gaza. This week and a half we have before Trump takes office is CRUCIAL. Whether a ceasefire is reached before his inauguration or not, we need to be supporting both community efforts on the ground, as well as campaigns like this, where your money is going to support 14 people (Nabil and his wife, his four children, six grandchildren, and his two daughter-in-laws).
Please donate and share this campaign; it is halfway funded!!!!!
€10,468/€20,000 - JAN 20TH!!!!!!!!
This fundraiser is verified by Gaza Vetters, at #6 on the list, under Ghada’s name.
@rickybabyboy @sayruq @officialspec @nabulsi @valtsv @komsomolka @r0zeclawz @marxism-transgenderism @teaboot @cryptotheism @boobieteriat @chokulit @3000s @ot3 @90-ghost @apas-95  @punkitt-is-here @i-am-a-fish @b0tster @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @pcktknife @tamamita @omegaversereloaded  @catsgifsarefun @teaboot @sawasawako  @feluka @spongebobssquarepants @skipppppy  @paper-mario-wiki @xgoldenlatiasx @postanagramgenerator @memingursa  @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense  @spacebeyonce  @fools-and-perverts @dailyquests  @neechees @evillesbianvillainarchive @taffybuns  @nyancrimew @thatdiabolicalfeminist @beserkerjewel @tpwrtrmnky @beetledrink @spaghettioverdose @tlirsgender @grox @minmos @paparoach  @jackalopescruff @slimetony
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riddleturner · 4 months ago
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he's an apostate. he's a grey warden. he's on the run from the law. he's bonded body mind and soul to a spirit of the fade. he practices one of the rarest and most taxing magical diciplines known to mages. he's a cat dad. he was put in solitary confinement for a full year. he saves lives daily and asks for no payment. he's a massive bitch. he's personal friends with the hero of ferelden. he hates the church. he's hopelessly in love with you. he writes and distributes his own manifesto. he was forced to kill his own ex boyfriend. he doesn't see a way out. he's fucking blonde.
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gutsby · 2 months ago
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Wants and Needs
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Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader
Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.
Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.
Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.
Word count: 8.4k
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You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.
It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.
The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.
You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.
With Joel, you could.
It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.
You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.
Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.
“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.
“Alright.” Joel nodded.
“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”
“Mhmm.”
“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”
“For the…?”
“Martells.”
“Okay.”
“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”
“Lovely.”
Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.
“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”
For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.
“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.
You blinked, then scanned the schedule.
“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”
“I wasn’t talking about your father.”
You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.
He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.
Posing a question, maybe.
You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.
“I need $2,700.”
Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.
“$2,700?” he repeated.
“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”
The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.
“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.
“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”
You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.
I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.
However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.
Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.
At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.
Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.
“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.
You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.
“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.
You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.
Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.
He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.
When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.
“Mr. Miller—”
“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”
You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.
It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.
“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”
“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”
Ire morphed to something more in a blink.
You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.
“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”
It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.
But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.
So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.
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You woke up wet.
In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.
Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.
Or steam.
Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.
“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”
As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.
And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.
You glanced at the clock—3:37.
“Fucking hell,” you hissed.
You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.
You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.
Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?
You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.
“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”
The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.
And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.
He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.
“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.
“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”
“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”
In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.
Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.
“Listen. Hey.”
“Will you stop?!”
You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.
“You’re gonna make me late—”
“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”
You’re good.
“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.
“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”
Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.
“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”
“I offered.”
“You caved.”
“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”
“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”
“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”
You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.
I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.
From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.
“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.
His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.
By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.
His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”
But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.
“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”
And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.
“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.
“I cancelled,” he said.
You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”
You knew he hated doing that.
“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”
You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.
You cracked; it never took much from him.
For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.
“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”
“I know.”
Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.
Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.
Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:
“That’s it.”
“I know.”
“Good girl.”
Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.
“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”
Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.
“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.
He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.
“Like this?” you ventured.
The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”
You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.
“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”
You did.
Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.
Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:
“In me, daddy. Please.”
You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.
And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.
“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”
You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up
“No,” you choked out.
This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.
The night stand.
You closed your eyes.
“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.
In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.
“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”
You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.
This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.
Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’
Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.
“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”
The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.
“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.
You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.
You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.
“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.
Not me.
Not here.
Just let it—
“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.
Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.
“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”
Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.
“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.
Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.
Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.
“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.
Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.
“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.
Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:
“I know. Keep going.”
Keep going.
So simple.
Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.
And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’
Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.
“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”
You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?
“I’m here.”
Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.
He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.
You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.
“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”
“Kiss me.”
It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.
His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.
Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:
“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”
His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.
Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.
Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.
“Good girl,” Joel cooed.
Throbbing even more this time.
“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”
All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.
“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”
Feeling it trickle down your legs.
“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”
You could barely breathe.
You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.
This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.
Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.
Of course, you yelped.
“Joel!”
You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.
It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.
He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.
That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.
You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.
“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”
Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:
“Yeah? Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.
You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.
“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.
Joel slowed.
“What?”
You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.
“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”
Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.
“Money?” he quipped.
“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”
Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.
“No,” he said, sharp.
“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.
Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.
“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.
“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.
“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.
“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”
Well, in a way, maybe.
You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.
Increasingly irritated, again.
“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”
“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”
“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”
“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.
Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.
“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”
Your heart sank.
You didn’t know what to say.
Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.
“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”
He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.
“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.
Sounding guilty, too.
Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.
In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.
Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.
“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”
He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.
“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”
At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.
But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:
“Why?”
Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.
Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.
“Why’d it have to be you?”
Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.
“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”
Your stomach twisted. He did?
You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—
“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.
You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.
“This isn’t about—” he started, low.
“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”
“More than you know.”
There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.
Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.
“When you met me?” you teased.
You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.
“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”
His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.
It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.
That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.
You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.
Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”
Joel blinked back. Dazed.
“What do you m—”
“How much did you like me? When did it start?”
Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.
You reached back and grabbed another.
“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”
“Says who?”
You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.
“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.
You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.
But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.
“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”
There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.
Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.
Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.
When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.
“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”
Alright.
“How much?”
You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.
With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.
Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath
You squealed, soft, “Joel!”
He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.
“Joel—” Again.
“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”
As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.
Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”
Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.
“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.
“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”
His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.
You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.
And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.
It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.
He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.
“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.
Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.
Submission?
Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.
He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.
You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.
“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.
And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.
“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”
He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.
Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.
You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.
You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.
Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.
“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”
He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.
“Maybe just one more—” he started.
“No,” you finished for him, sharp.
Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.
What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.
“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”
Here the fuck we go.
“He’ll kill you.”
You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”
You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.
“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”
“Joel!”
“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”
His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.
“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”
He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.
“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”
Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.
Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.
He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.
“What’s—”
“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”
You blinked.
“I don’t…have a car.”
Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.
In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.
Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:
“Joel, I-I can’t—”
“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”
“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”
“I want to.”
Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.
All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.
For once, you wanted to believe it.
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Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)
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ochibrochi · 10 months ago
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spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬
I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!
I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??
By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).
I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.
Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.
I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").
The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.
Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.
Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).
If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?
Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.
I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)
Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!
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transgaysex · 2 years ago
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i butt heads with my mom on occasion but honestly kudos to her on some stuff fr fr
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bejeweledblondie · 1 year ago
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
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