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#age gaps in stories
bass-alien · 2 months
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guys who are 30+ years old chasing after girls who are 18-20 years old is weird and gross as fuck to me and I will always stand by that
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luvrxbunny · 7 days
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mini blurbs ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader
a/n: ngl. some of these are blurb sized blurbs but i was just too lazy to give them their own post 😇
wc: 992
warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, voyerism(?), dry humping, piv, blowjob
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-> dbf!joel who gets invited to the family bbq/pool party only to lose his shit the second he sees you. he ends up (uncharacteristically) being the first person in the pool because there’s no other way to hide how hard he is.
you eventually feel bad, watching him float around the empty pool, and decide to join him.
so he has to touch himself while you’re talking to him. you’re so beautiful in the sunlight, your skin basically glowing. you’re just slightly sweating, letting joel’s imagination conjure up insane scenarios.
to top it all off, you start touching him. you notice his silence along with his sweaty and red face. you assume it’s the heat, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead then his cheek, and commenting on how hot he feels.
his hips repeatedly jerk towards you as he cums into the netting of his shorts. trying to keep his voice steady as he lets you know that he is perfectly fine.
-> dbf!joel who is disgustingly depraved. like he lurks around your room at night, sometimes just standing out in the hall to hear you moving around in there. you catch him spraying your perfume on his shirts on multiple occasions.
you don't technically know what he does with the shirts but you know that when your dad has him in the guest room, he thinks the walls are a lot thicker than they are.
-> finally convincing joel to send you a full body video of him cumming and he shocks you to your core when it’s just a video of him sitting back, full body in frame, his thick hairy thighs and huge arms grabbing your attention instantly. he’s looking directly at the camera as his cock bobs between his thighs, twitching and leaking everywhere for the camera before tensing up and spurting across his chest. joel’s head flies backwards as a deep groan rattles from his chest as he paints it white. he comes down with slow chants of “oh baby-” and "fuck, sweetheart." before going silent, just huffing into the air.
when he looks back down at the camera you can see a blush over his cheeks as he reaches for it. you can tell he's looking at himself not the camera when he gives you a “hope that was alright.” and a soft, timid smile before it ends
you respond with “come over right now.”
-> trying to give joel a blowjob for the first time. he's basically bouncing in his seat as you get on your knees. you take your time unzipping his pants, smiling at the way he moans at everything you do. his breathing picks up once you reach for the band of his breifs, his hands coming to the side of his chair, gripping so hard that his knuckles almost turn white. you take a moment to take in his state, all disheveled despite the fact that you've done nothing but undress him.
he rewards you with a desperate, breathy "i'll do anything".
his hips are fucking into the air as he keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling. you concede, wrapping your hand around his dick and shocking a moan out of him. you finally lean forward to place your lips on his tip, licking at his slit softly, relishing in his salty taste. he sucks in a sharp breath and never exhales.
you pull off of him to giggle at his reaction, maybe lick up his shaft. but the second you come off, his hips pump into the air, humping his dick against your cheek before cumming all over your face.
he groans like he got kicked in the chest, completely out of breath and so gravelly you know his voice will be scratchy afterward.
“mmm fuck. m’sorry. m’ so so sorry, love. s- so good.”
-> joel who wraps his arms around you so tightly that they shake when he cums. no matter what position. he’ll either rearrange the both of you so he can wrap you up or he’ll figure out a way in the position you’re in.
if he’s fucking you in doggy then he’ll lean down and wrap one arm around you. to make up for the missing arm, he’ll rant about how much he loves you in your ear.
his favorite position to have you in is spooning. first, because it's convenient. second, because he can wrap both his arms around you and pull you against his body as tightly as he wants.
sometimes he'll lock you in place and flip onto his back, planting his heels into the bed before beginning his relentless pace into your crying cunt.
-> in a van for a supply run with joel, tommy, maria and some other unknown characters. maria and tommy are upfront with the goons taking up the middle seats. you had to beg joel for this but you guys are in a cuddling position. joel sitting with his back to window, one leg straight and the other planted on the floor. you're sitting between his legs, leaning back against him but sitting straight enough to just turn your head if you want to kiss him.
but the road is more worn down than either of you expected. you try to act like you haven't only been focused on the hot bulge digging into your back every time the van bumps over a rock but once you feel the hot mass begin to harden and expand, you realize you're not the only one struggling with those thoughts.
with some more begging, a lot of neck kisses, gentle caressing, and soft, desperate words to joel. you're now in the same position but bent at the waist, giving him perfect access to your perky ass.
he's having way more fun than he'd care to admit but you can feel it. he was cautious at first, stopping anytime someone said something he thought might draw attention to the back, or even when the van got too silent. but know he's going at you. he's bringing your hips back directly on his cock like he's fucking you.
and he has no problem draping himself over your back to lean in your ear so you can hear him cumming in his pants for you
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pedroslittlelady · 6 months
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Just You & Me, Darlin'
joel miller x f!reader (18+)
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A/N: OMG Okay, I'm actually doing this! I'm posting something for the first time in over 4 years and I'm super nervous. Pedro Pascal just has me by the titties, and so do all of you wonderful writers and artists I've been so inspired by, so here is my little contribution 🫣💕
You can also read this on my ao3 if you prefer 😊
summary: When Tommy returns to the QZ without you, Joel is both terrified and furious but he’s determined to get you back safe no matter what.
tags/warnings: 18+ Explicit | Minors Do Not Interact Please! no use of y/n, boston qz, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts, slight exhibitionism, explicit smut, unprotected piv, no description of female reader, other than joel can pick you up and kinda implied age gap, squirting, emotional sex, unbeta'd, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin', baby girl). oh and you're both super in love so :) I think that's it.
word count: 5.9k
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Joel’s heart was fluttering within his chest, nerves and excitement flooding him as he made his way up the steps of his apartment building. If all had gone well, you were due back from the week-long smuggling run outside of the QZ today, and he had been stuck on work duty for most of it. 
He hadn’t been able to go with you since someone had needed to stay back and protect their store of goods and ration cards from being stolen in their absence, they’d learned this the hard way. 
And in his mind he’d drawn the short straw.
Joel would much rather be out there with you than stuck here wondering if you were okay. Here, he was unable to do anything if something went wrong but he knew you, the little hell-raiser that you were could definitely handle yourself. 
The both of you had agreed when you first started sleeping together that it shouldn’t mess with the business, it gave you all a more comfortable life in the QZ than most got to have after all. 
Even after falling hard for one another following the sharing of your past within whispered cuddles post sex, you both still tried to keep the business professional and that meant trusting one another to watch your own and your partners’ backs. 
As he entered his apartment he was surprised to see Tommy sitting on his couch with his head in his hands. 
Joel’s stomach dropped at the sight, he already knew something was wrong. Heart breaking into a gallop against his sternum he quickly scanned the apartment, the open layout giving him a view of the whole room and you were nowhere in sight.
Joel's hands tightened into fists, his jaw tensing in anger and fear as he focused his intense gaze on his little brother who was now worrying his lip.
“Where is she,” Joel stated more than questioned in his deep southern timbre, his voice thick with emotion. Anger, fear, anguish and dread were all suddenly clogging up his throat. He swallowed to keep it contained, needing to keep his head on straight right now.
“I don’t know brother,” Tommy responded, guilt and slight fear painted his features as he looked up at his older brother.
“The hell do you mean you don’t know?” Joel growled as he prowled closer to his brother who quickly stood from his slumped position. “I trusted you to watch her back, to keep her safe for me!” Joel couldn’t control himself, the emotions from the thought of losing you, of never seeing you again were too much to handle and he grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and shook him.
“The deal went bad! Me and Tess got separated from her!” Tommy quickly explained, his hands gripping onto Joel's shaking wrists. “We tried to find her but… shit man, things are more fucked up out there than ever. We were hoping she’d made it back here.”
Joel pushed his brother away from him, afraid he would start swinging. Rage and fear consumed him, tightening his heaving chest as he ran his hands through his greying hair. He quickly stalked over to his weapons stash beneath the floorboards while vile images of you being scared and hurt, being taken by sex traffickers and all manner of other atrocities he’d seen and heard about over all his years surviving in this hell were flooding his mind.
If it was the last thing he did, he’d find you himself and bring you home. The thought of never finding you was unspeakable and he quickly pushed that horrible scenario out of his mind. But then another took its ugly place as he quickly grabbed his go bag; what if he found you dead or dying?
Well that would be the end, wouldn’t it?
He paused before looking at his little brother, standing before him paler than he’d seen him in a long time. Exhaustion was dragging Tommy down and Joel knew that he and Tess had done the best they could to find you; they loved you too.
“I’ll find her and bring her back,” Joel stated.
“I’ll come with-”
“No… thank you, but no. You're exhausted, you’ll just slow me down. If I don’t come back… then I…,” Joel trailed off as he watched anguish and fear become apparent on his little brother's face.
“Joel. Don’t. Please, brother,” Tommy begged, already knowing where Joel’s head was at.
“I can’t…” Joel felt his voice break as tears flooded his vision, blurring the image of his baby brother walking towards him. 
Next thing Joel knew, his brother's arms were around him and Joel let himself feel the rare embrace for just a moment. He and his brother had never been the most affectionate with each other even before the outbreak, so the fact his brother was hugging him so tightly told him Tommy knew exactly what you meant to him. How could he not, with how blatant the two of you were with your lovesick need for each other. You had become his whole world, a quick spiral into passionate need that seemed to drive the two of you from the very moment you became one when he took you on that dirty warehouse floor three years earlier.
His head dipped to Tommy’s shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and into his patchy beard, into that place where you always kissed him, as if that spot had been made just for you. A place to kiss and lick and nibble like you loved to do when you both were intimate, which was basically whenever you were in the same room as one another, everyone else be damned.
Would Joel ever feel that again? Had you both made all the memories together that you ever would? The last time he saw you flashed in his mind, replacing the ugly panicked images from before. You’d smiled up at him, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as you whispered your ‘see you laters’ - never ‘goodbyes’ - to each other, while Tess and Tommy looked on and rolled their eyes in annoyance at your overt pda.
The Joel of before had never been one for public displays of affection, to the point where one woman had broken things off with him because she’d said he was cold, that he didn’t care enough about her. He’d realised later on that she had probably been right. More conscious of how much affection he was giving in front of others than he should have been.
Now though, with you these last few years? Joel didn’t give a single fuck what people thought of how he held your hand, kissed you, sat you on his lap as he made deals with all kinds of people. He loved when you’d do the same, when you would kiss him in that spot that was surely made purely for your mouth while you rolled your hips against his hardening cock. The greedy eyes of lowlifes watching on in pure jealousy of how unashamed you were with showing everyone how wanton you could get for him. His precious little hell-raiser.
Shit, he’d fucked you outside before and hadn’t cared who’d heard. It had actually turned him on to know the residents had heard your desperate and lustful cries as you let him take you from behind in an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Anyone could’ve looked out and seen how Joel Miller got to have you be his, the most vicious beauty in all of Boston, submitting to him, belonging to him.
Joel quickly pulled away from Tommy before he got too emotional about how this day had turned into a fucking real life nightmare. 
As he strode towards his apartment door with his go bag on his back and his weapons tucked away on his person, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and face. He couldn’t look back at Tommy so he roughly pulled open the door and walked out with a quickly uttered, “see you brother.”
While descending to street level Joel struggled to get his emotions under control. It had been a long time since he had cried, since he had felt this scared and helpless, but he pushed through and began to formulate a plan on how he would get out of the QZ through a smuggler tunnel they had created two years ago. Then he would find you so he could bring you home, safe and sound.
There was no other option he would let himself consider from here on out, he needed to focus on his current mission.
Joel steeled himself as he walked out of the apartment building and turned right to head to the closest smuggling route out of the QZ. As he looked up to assess his surroundings he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of you standing in front of him.
His eyes widened in shock as you stood before him, a shaky vulnerable look on your pretty as sin face. Joel choked on your name in disbelief and before he knew it his hands were grasping your cheeks and his lips were crushing against yours in a desperate kiss.
He pulled away from your tight embrace to quickly gasp, “What the hell happened, baby?” Before he kissed you again and again and again. So relieved to feel you alive and whole in his arms once more.
But then worry clouded his mind; the look on your face as you saw him notice you replayed in his mind.
Joel once again pulled away from the desperate kisses you both were sharing to truly look into your wide teary eyes.
“Are… are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Let me see you,” Joel pleaded in a vulnerable whisper. He reluctantly pulled further away so he could assess you until you spoke for the first time since your reunion.
“I’m okay Joel, baby. I’m okay I promise!” You gasped as Joel began to pull up your sleeves and the hem of your shirt to see your slightly bruised and cut skin, clearly searching for a fatal wound like a bite that he thankfully would not find.
“Joel!” You shouted to get his attention, uncaring of the passers-by on the busy street taking notice of your desperate interaction.
Joel stopped his searching as you placed your hands on his cheeks and gave a soft smile when you saw the fear in his eyes recede into a warm relieved look of love that always made your chest flutter in unbelievable happiness, like butterflies bursting with life within you. You had never expected to get to this point with anyone, let alone the cold standoffish brute Joel Miller who had barely seemed to tolerate you the first few weeks after your initial meeting. 
To have this big, dangerous, sometimes scary but protective man look at you like you were his whole world was intoxicating. No wonder you could never keep your hands off of him. 
It had started after the first time you’d fucked, and that’s all it had been meant to be. A desperate fuck after a near death experience, both of you alone and thankful to be alive. You had exchanged no words but a heady look and before you’d known what was happening he was kissing into your mouth before pinning you onto the hard dirty floor and fucking you silly.
You knew he’d been sleeping with Tess at the time, although it wasn’t serious, and you had slipped into Tommy’s bed once or twice, but for years you had respected Joel’s leadership and strength, and of course enjoyed admiring how handsome he really was, but you both had never been particularly close, until then.
After, you had both agreed it wouldn’t happen again. You reluctantly agreed with him even though your legs had felt like jelly after the best orgasms you’d ever been given, having never before been fucked like Joel Miller liked to fuck. 
It happened again of course, the very next night when you took a chance and slipped into his room and cot. He hadn’t said a thing against it, only a cocky, “can’t get enough huh, hell-raiser?” 
After you sucked him to full hardness he’d let you ride him as fast or slow as you wanted while he just watched you. In the wake of your first orgasm Joel had snapped and took control once more by putting you on your back and practically folding you in half. He’d fucked you so hard you’d screamed your pleasure, so loud you had only realised afterward that Tommy and Tess must have been 100% aware of what was happening. But you’d come so hard you’d squirted all over Joel and made a complete mess, but you had seen in Joel’s eyes how much he’d absolutely loved it.
There was no talk of it never happening again after that, only an acknowledgement that business came first. A few months into your arrangement he began cuddling you after sex, asking you not to leave his bed in the sweetest whisper against the back of your head. You had agreed, threading your fingers through his and nodding with a simple, “yes Joel.”
And you hadn’t left, you both barely let the other out of your lovesick sight as you basically moved in with him. Tess and Tommy quickly moved out so they didn’t have to listen to the both of you ‘fucking every goddamn day.’
“I’m fine baby, I promise. Okay?” You kissed Joel softly bringing you back to the present, his arms tightening around you.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if… fuck, I thought you were-” Joel was crushing you against him, lips brushing yours as he spoke. A tremble was in his voice, one you’ve come to know more over the years as he opened up to you about things from his past.
“I’m right here darlin’, right where I’m supposed to be,” you gently spoke while running your hands through his salt and pepper curls. The action always calmed him down.
“I love you so goddamn much, hell-raiser.” Joel smiled against your lips before kissing you again. You chuckled, feeling tears gather in your eyes at the silly pet name he’d given you after your first chaotic introduction years ago which involved you wielding a couple molotov cocktails. The first of many pet names he graced you with, but definitely your favourite.
“I love you too, big guy.”
Your back gently hit the apartment building as Joel increased the pressure of your kisses, a desperation taking over you both as the feeling of being reunited after a close call washed over you once again.
Joel hiked your leg up and ground his hardened cock against your rapidly soaking pussy making you gasp at the sting of pain the suddenness of your arousal wrought as it travelled deep into your rapidly warming core.
“Joel,” you panted into his mouth as he licked at your tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a growl of need you felt emanating from his belly which was pressed tight against yours.
“Fuck, need inside your tight little cunt right now, darlin’,” Joel rumbled before he hastily began to undo your jeans, his lips carving a wet path across your cheek and down your tilting neck. He bit you quick and hard there, marking you; claiming you. You gasped, your arousal seeping from your desperately empty channel and trickling into your panties as you tilted your hips against his rock hard cock.
Joel slipped his thick fingers into your wet slit making you moan into his mouth.
“Get a room,” you heard someone mutter as they walked past. Joel growled before pulling away to glare fiercely at the man who suddenly blanched before quickly scurrying away at the sight of Joel hovering over you with a murderous look in his eyes. 
You giggled at the interaction, drawing his attention back to you, his eyes softening at your mischievous smirk.
“Take me to bed, big guy. Remind me who I belong to,” you murmured before biting your lower lip in anticipation as Joel's eyes turned blacker than the deepest cavern within the fathomless ocean.
He grabbed you by the back of the neck and began to steer you back into the apartment building and up the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your ass before a slap landed there making you squeak excitedly. “Hurry the fuck up, darlin’,” Joel growled with a squeeze to your right cheek making you skip up the stairs quicker, panties practically drenched now.
The next second he was pushing open your apartment door, throwing off his bag and flipping you around to face him so he could kiss you hungrily once more. His thick tongue probed every part of your mouth, overwhelming you. You whimpered, your hands caressing through his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.
His grip on your thighs suddenly let you know what he was about to do and you braced your hands on his broad shoulders as he quickly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You both groaned and panted into one another's mouth at the feel of being pressed together.
You stilled when you heard the clearing of a throat. Joel groaned in annoyance as your lips separated wetly.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said before covering a slight laugh with a cough, Joel glowered. “But I’m really glad you're okay, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.” You smiled, so glad to see him safe and sound too. You told him this and questioned where Tess was and he informed you that she was just fine also.
“I just wanted to say-” Tommy started to speak.
“Enough said,” Joel growled. “Talk later. We're busy, brother.” Joel raised his brows clearly unabashed at being caught in this position by his baby brother.
“Jeez, alright lover boy-” Tommy rolled his eyes.
“I swear to God Tommy if you don’t get the fuck out of here now I’ll-”
“Okay okay! We’ll catch up later, Christ.” Tommy shook his head but you could see he wasn’t truly annoyed by the relieved look on his face.
As Tommy made his way to the door, a smirk was painted on his handsome face. Joel just pierced him with a frustrated and grumpy glare, you couldn’t help but snort softly while still being held up in his strong arms.
“See you later Tommy, and tell Tess thanks as well when you see her,” you quickly uttered before you forgot all about Tess and Tommy in just a few seconds.
“Will do, sweetheart. See you later. You too, Romeo.” Tommy laughed before darting out the door as fast as he could once he’d heard Joel’s growl of annoyance.
“C’mon baby,” you murmured in his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth bringing his attention back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Need to feel your big cock inside me, I feel so empty.” You pouted playfully even though you could still feel some of the adrenaline and fear from your near miss swarming inside you. 
You had very nearly not made it home to him and that thought made your heart jump and your hold on your lover tighten. You didn’t know if you could hold back on the avalanche of feeling you knew was headed your way.
“Poor baby,” Joel responded as he carried you to your bed and laid you down, his back not being able to hold you up for much longer, not if he was going to fuck you like you both needed after today. “Don’t you worry darlin’, I got you.”
Joel stood before you and began to remove the various weapons from his body, his dark intense gaze never leaving you as you began to writhe in need.
“Hurry Joel,” you whimpered, a desperation taking over now that you weren’t in his arms anymore. You felt tears gather in your eyes at just how lucky you were to be back here with him, safe and sound. You couldn’t hold back a hiccupping sob threatening to escape you.
Joel took notice and quickly hovered over you, one hand on your hip, the other palming your cheek and wiping a tear away. “You're okay now, baby. I got you.” He kissed your forehead and you could hear him inhale your scent as he did.
“Joel.” You murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. You needed to release these emotions, and Joel was the best at giving you just what you needed, what you both needed.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Joel murmured, his own gaze tear filled meeting yours before he pressed his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. You struggled to keep up with his kisses at first but then he was scraping his teeth down your jaw and sucking on your neck.
You bucked your hips up against him, his leg slipping between yours so you could grind on him. You whimpered, needing his bare skin to be slick against yours as you once again fitted together so perfectly. 
You needed the intimacy and the vulnerability of being beneath his broad form as he fucked you deep and hard, imprinting himself within you forever.
As if Joel had read your mind, he pulled back from nuzzling between your breasts, his big strong hands grasped the collar of your shirt and ripped it down the middle in one go.
You gasped at the action, at the grimace of need on his face as he began to manhandle you in a desperate need to get you naked beneath him. You unhooked your bra as he roughly pulled down your jeans and panties in one go, snarling in annoyance when your boots hampered his mission.
As soon as you were bare Joel was back on the bed and spreading your legs up and wide so he could see your perfectly soaked little cunt fluttering needily around nothing. Fuckin’ Heaven right there, he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes up your heaving belly and chest to see you biting your lip, small hands fisting the sheets beneath you.
“Please Joel, want you naked against me,” you practically begged, pupils blown out, eyes still glistening. He knew from your reaction something had scared you, probably a moment of terror in thinking you weren’t going to make it back to him in one piece or at all. The idea of that being a very real possibility that could have happened shook him to his core and he quickly tore off his clothes, not wanting to be away from your touch for longer than necessary.
He began to kiss every scrape and bruise as he made his way up your chest. Soon his eyes were looking deep into your soft gaze, your arms and legs wrapping around him and he knew he was finally home. He brushed his nose along yours, both his hands tunnelling into your pretty hair as he gazed down at you.
“You and me, darlin’, that’s all I need. Just you, I fuckin’ love you, you drive me goddamn insane with it, you know that?” His gaze was soft but intense, his words rumbled out of his pouty lips.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your own hands rubbing his back soothingly before sliding up his neck and into his hair. “But I feel the same.”
“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time. Just scares the hell outta me,” he nearly choked on his words before burying his face into the sexy slope of your neck, inhaling your heavenly scent. “Can’t lose you, baby.”
“I’m right here, not losing me, Joel,” you responded softly before kissing his scarred temple.
Joel slowly lowered his hips as he lifted his head to kiss you, his weeping cock covering your pussy, soaking him even further. Normally Joel would prepare you, stretch you with his thick fingers and make you come on his tongue but from the way you were mewling and moving against him he knew you both needed to become one right now. Besides, you had told him plenty of times how you liked the slight pain his cock created when it stretched your little hole open, the  girth of him too wide to fit comfortably at first.
You both angled your hips, well versed in the best way to slot together hands free. Your breath hitched when the crown of his twitching cock popped inside you.
“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me, baby girl.”
“Joel,” you whimpered against his lips before your hips pushed against him, sliding more of him within your aching heat.
He stared into your watery eyes as he gripped your hip with a bruising grasp and began to push into your tightness. He loved watching the way your mouth opened into a little ‘o’ shape and the space between your brows creased cutely in pain.
“Takin’ my cock so well, you precious little fuckin’ thing,” Joel growled as he bottomed out causing you to gasp. Your perfect cunt clenching around him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. 
Your breasts heaved against his chest as he let you adjust to the stretch of him for a moment. But he had little patience right now, so he soon pulled back making you whimper sweetly and he kissed into your mouth soothingly before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and held it tightly.
Pulling back from the kiss he quickly punched his hips down and forward, slamming deep inside you and causing your body to jolt from the force, his hands holding you steady. You weren’t going anywhere.
The squeak you let out was choked off when he did it again, and again. The soundtrack to your desperate love making became the wet slapping of skin on skin, the gasps of pleasure and the cries of pain as you melded together as one. Sweaty skin sliding against hardened nipples and harsh gasps were shared as he rhythmically pounded you into the mattress
“Joel, Joel, oh God Joel don’t stop!” you pleaded wide eyes staring up at his fervent expression as he gazed down at you.
“Fuck! That’s it baby, take my cock.” Joel grimaced in pleasure.
“Please, baby. Go faster!” You yelped as his hips smacked against you, his heavy balls soaked from your arousal.
He granted your plea, arching his back so he could suck on your tight nipples, hands grasping under and over your shoulders as he began to piston sharply within you, pulling you onto his thick cock.
“Yes yes yes, gonna come,” you suddenly gasped and Joel knew it was true by how your tight little pussy started fluttering around his shaft, sucking him deep.
“Come all over me, baby girl,” he whispered against your parted lips, sweat building between you as you both moved in sync, chasing that beautiful euphoria he always granted you.
You had been feeling it build within you so deeply, you knew you were about to crest that tremendous wave of pleasure you associated with Joel and how he always spoiled you rotten when you made love. It hit deep and sharp, making you arch your back and cry out against his lips as your pussy clutched so tightly to him, never wanting him to stop or leave your most vulnerable place that he always cherished.
It caught your breath as you ascended into ecstasy, all you could do was whimper against his plush lips as you came. His hips stuttered as you tightened, unable to keep up the pace at how tightly you were grasping at him. Nails scraping his back, legs spreading further, toes curling against his thick thighs.
“Good girl, baby,” he practically whimpered as you came around him. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, I love you,” Joel growled while he quickened his pace again, the ache in his lower back completely ignored. He sat up a bit, lifted your legs so they fell over the bend in his elbows before planting his hands on the bed.
You were practically folded in half, completely dazed from that intense orgasm as he manoeuvred you however he liked. You loved when he treated you like his precious little fuck doll. 
“Oh my God, baby,” you gasped, just watching as his hulking form rose above you, his dark desperate eyes dragging from your own eyes to your bouncing breasts as he started pumping his cock into you once more. The generous crown of his cock repeatedly hit that amorous spot deep inside you that only Joel could locate.
His stare was fixated on where you were joined together as he continued to thrust, slowing a little to admire it. “Sweet little pussy is creaming all over my dick, fuck!” Joel couldn’t take his eyes away from it, your abused hole flushed with arousal and soaked with your mingling desire. “God damn, baby girl. You can really take some cock, huh?”
All you could do was whimper at the vision he made above you, greedy lustful stare focused on your needy hole stretched around the wide circumference of his wet cock pumping inside you. The broad expanse of his tanned slick shoulders, the strength of his hands as they wrapped his calloused fingers around your hips, angling them perfectly. He sat up, his knees bracketing your ass and you quickly pressed your hands up behind you knowing exactly what was coming. Your heart jumped in your chest, you loved to watch him above you like this; using you, loving you so deeply and harshly.
“Gonna cum so deep inside your cunt, baby girl. Never gonna be rid of me,” Joel growled before rolling his hips into you, knowingly hitting that special place inside you that usually had you squirting all over him. 
He never forgot that moment you’d shared with one another. Only your second time together and he had given it to you so good it was probably one of his proudest moments, his ego getting a huge boost that had been well needed at the time. 
You had been so shocked and loud, you’d practically screamed at the sensation, shivering so vulnerably beneath him afterward it had stuck deep inside his chest afterward. It had pushed him to coo to you softly at your little whimpers, telling you that you were okay, that you had been so sexy and beautiful for him.
His hips were rolling and thrusting into you making you moan and stare up at him in awe. This man was all fucking yours.
“Mine, Joel. You’re mine.”
“Yeah, baby. All yours, this cock is all yours. And who does this pussy belong to, hmm?” he questioned with a smirk as he stared down into your wide eyes as his hips picked up the pace, you continuing to reciprocate his movements like a well choreographed dance.
“Yours, my pussy’s all yours. No one else's, baby.”
“Good girl,” Joel praised before leaning over  you, his pretty lips pressing into yours, widening your mouth and swiping his tongue against yours as your pussy flooded his cock and balls creating a slapping sound that made you whimper and blush.
“Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Ain’t ya, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Fuckin’ love you.”
“Love you too, now fill me up, baby. Please!” You gasped against him, your foreheads now pressed against one another, mouths sharing harsh breaths. 
You braced against the headboard with one hand while moving the other to his curly hair desperately seeking purchase as your arousal grew once more. Core warming and tightening in an impending orgasm and when he shifted your position so he could press against your clit and urethra with his fingers your stomach jumped, knowing exactly what he wanted from you.
“Oh Joel,” you whined.
“Yeah baby, drench me please,” Joel encouraged and you began to flutter around the precise pumping of his twitching cock within your sensitive walls.
It hit you suddenly, your back arched with a quick scream of pleasure and the overstimulation that you associated with squirting. Joel groaned in pleasure as you burst with feeling.
“Atta fuckin’ girl, baby! That’s it, shit I’m gonna come,” Joel gasped as you soaked him, a vision beneath him, sweat slicked tits bouncing, mouth agape in a shout of intense pleasure and eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.
Joel's hips stuttered, his balls tightening even more as he felt his pleasure travel from deep within his core, up to the swollen tip of his cock. “Fuck, baby,” Joel whimpered into your neck as he began to spurt his come deep into your womb, hips stuttering and grinding against yours with the need to stuff you full of his cum.
“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered as you felt him empty himself within you. You nudged his head as he did, wanting to see his handsome face in pleasure. He lifted and looked down at you, cum still spilling, overflowing you and trickling down your ass. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up good. I want all your cum,” you whispered softly as you gazed up at him. His face was so vulnerable and needy in that moment you couldn’t help but clench around him once more.
His balls had emptied with each ejection of his cum inside you, hips finally stilling as his cock became oversensitized to the stimulation still happening.
“Easy, baby girl. Easy.” Joel chuckled as he fell against you, completely spent before kissing you so softly that your heart jumped. “You think I can go again at my age?”
“You think I can go again after that?” You giggled breathily, completely satisfied. The impending avalanche of emotions purged from you in pleasure by your lover.
“Yeah, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.” Joel rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, a small grin on his face, eyes as soft as chocolate ice-cream.
“Then you don’t doubt yourself either.”
“I know my limits and my back is shot, darlin',” Joel grumbled in annoyance, his softly grinning face turning so grumpily pouty you couldn’t help but melt, you loved that you got to see this side of him that he unveiled to no one else but you. He really was all yours.
“Oh, poor baby,” you whispered to him before nudging him to the side so he could rest flat on the mattress, his softened dick slipping out of you with a flood of his cum which tickled your still trembling thighs. You definitely planned on giving him another back massage as soon as you both got some sleep, he had fucked you so perfectly; hard and loving. He certainly deserved it. “Rest now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”
Joel sighed as he settled into the admittedly uncomfortable bed, but with you snuggling up against his chest he had no complaints.
“I don’t want you goin’ out there without me anymore, okay? Fuck the business, you’re more important.”
You looked up at him “As long as you don’t go out there without me either, we’re more important,” you agreed with a sigh of relief.
“Just you and me, darlin’. That’s all I need,” Joel assured you.
You snuggled deeper into his strong arms, a warm sense of safety and love blanketing your heart as his arms tightened and his lips kissed the top of your head with a mumbled, “Love you, hell-raiser.”
You kissed his chest before replying, “Love you too, big guy.”
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A/N: Thank you to any of you who made it to the end of this, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to help this little story of mine find new readers💕😘
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xbomboi · 17 days
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Growing Pains
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as raven finally gets to be free from her shackles, apple silently chooses to shoulder all the pain that comes their way and bear the burdens of dealing with the horrors of the world so that raven can be happy. because raven has suffered so much and apple decides it’s only fair that she do all she can to prevent raven from any further suffering. it’s her way of atoning for all the hurt she caused raven, because apple knows raven has been and always will be a better person than her. to apple, if either of them deserves to smile, it’s raven.
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fuctacles · 9 days
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A tale as old as time
For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie | Ao3
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"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.
He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.
He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.
1986.
Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 
He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 
It was gross. And in a way, alluring.
Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.
He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 
He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.
Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream
Shar: Definitely like mine
Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 
PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?
PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?
Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend
Shar: Wait no
Shar: NOT LIKE THAT
Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way
Eddie snorts.
You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.
He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.
Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 
Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 
Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 
Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.
A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 
Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.
Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.
But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?
PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.
He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.
Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.
That's not what Eddie expected at all. 
PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes
Shar: Me too
They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 
How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 
The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.
Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already
So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.
Shar: Okay, fine
Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 
Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already
Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?
Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.
PuppetOfMasters: Yes 
Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up
PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me
Shar: Insufferable
Shar: Menace
Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?
Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.
PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy
Shar: An old guy, you mean
Shar: You'd make a video with me?
PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes
Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then
PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer
Shar: ... There aren't any?
PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin
Shar: shit
Shar: fuck
Shar: that's so hot
Shar: you'd let me?
PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably
Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 
Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.
PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.
But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.
PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary
PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin
Shar: I fucking hope so
----
It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.
Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 
Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.
Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.
He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 
The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.
Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 
PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo
PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 
PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?
He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 
He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 
Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me
Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.
no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.
Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 
PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye
Shar: I'll let her know
Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up
Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.
PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day
Shar: So you were serious?
Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 
PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics
Shar: I knew holding back would pay off
Eddie snorts at his phone. 
Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with
Shar: Right. Of course
Shar: So how would that work?
Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.
PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.
Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.
It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.
Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me
Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?
PuppetOfMasters: Precisely
Shar: Holy shit okay
Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved
Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.
Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it
Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.
PuppetOfMasters: Simp
Shar: I am what I am
Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need
PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic
Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway
Shar: If that's okay
PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah
Eddie hesitates for a moment.
PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?
Fuck no, comes the immediate response
Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 
PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl
Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one
PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.
Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.
PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck
Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 
For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.
Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?
PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?
Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans
PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 
Shar: Sounds reasonable
Shar:When would you want to do this?
When?
Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 
I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.
Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me
Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 
Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.
Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?
His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 
PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?
Shar: Yeah?
PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.
Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.
"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.
"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 
It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 
"Well?" the guy asks.
"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 
"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"
Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 
"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.
Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.
"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."
Steve nods, his expression growing serious.
"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."
"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.
On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 
"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"
Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 
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oifaaa · 3 months
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No joke I honestly think Mei Chang is one of the best characters in fma like this girl at the age of 11 with nothing but a small panda and the clothes on her back crossed a deadly desert that's stated alot of grown adults find difficult to cross, found a serial killer and his weird weasly little sidekick and went yep these are the guys I want to travel with from now on I will also defend this serial killer like im his professional bodyguard despite me being a tenth of his size, finds a sentient suit of armour and proceeds to fall deeply in love with him and later when he asks her to help sacrifice him to get his brothers arm back she does not hesitate and all that's on top of her being an outstanding fighter, alkahester and a princess
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honeyedmiller · 8 months
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Love Me Tender | Joel Miller
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pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader
warnings: mentions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, depression, dbf!Joel, love and tender care, tooth-rotting fluff, age gap (Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in their mid 20’s), no outbreak!Joel, Joel helps reader take a bath, implied sexual relations but no smut or anything is mentioned in detail at all, mentions of lack of eating / eating food, no use of y/n. some of the descriptions of depression and anxiety in here may be triggering, so please either proceed w/ caution or ignore this one shot entirely. I love u all so much!
word count: 2.3k
synopsis: after a terrible mental week, joel checks in on you and makes sure you’re taken care of.
based on an anon request.
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Your dad had been on a work trip all week, leaving you to fend for yourself while you were home alone. Not that you couldn’t particularly do that; you were in your twenties after all.
It’s times like this that you wish he didn’t leave, though. Your mental health had taken a plummet. It started with an anxiety attack that came upon you because you were sure no one was going to hire you, a fresh college graduate, and you’d be a burden to your father for living at home this long.
Your dad was a loving man and never gave any implication that you living back at home would be any problem whatsoever. Your mind was just on constant overdrive and one thing led to another, digging yourself further into a black hole of your overwhelming emotions.
When you usually get into funks like this, you tend to take a walk during the day to let the sun dose you of natural serotonin, but you couldn’t even get yourself to get out of bed lately. You couldn’t shower, couldn’t really eat, and the anxiety attacks were constant. Your mind just kept telling you you’re not good enough, you never will be. Your thoughts snowballed and spiraled from there.
And so, you laid in bed curled into a fetal position as tears streamed down your face. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer your phone that had been ringing on your bedside table, so you simply just ignored it. You’d check in with your dad every day to let him know you were okay, but today, you just forgot.
You heard the front door of your house open, and your fight or flight should’ve been kicking in, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“Darlin’? It’s me, Joel.” You heard a voice call, and you relaxed just a little knowing it was just him. You didn’t answer him, but heard his heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs anyway.
You heard a soft knock on your bedroom door, and your muffled sobs are what made Joel come in. His heart shattered at the sight before him. He’s never seen you in such a state, and in this moment, wanted to do anything to help you.
“Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You felt the bed dip on the unoccupied side as Joel sat on it, reaching out to touch your arm gently.
You were so choked up that you couldn’t swallow your own sobs, and you shook your head as you tried to control your breathing.
“Talk to me, honey. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” His voice is gentle as his body maneuvers itself behind you. He’s laying down now and he wraps an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Mental health is shit.” You mumble, trying to calm yourself down. Joel’s touch alone seemed to relax you just a little, so maybe it was a good thing that he was there to check on you. Then you remembered how you haven’t showered for the past four days and how disarrayed your hair must’ve looked, and the bags under your eyes due to lack of sleep. Joel’s only ever seen you dolled up, or with minimal natural makeup on at the least.
You didn’t even want to begin what he thought of you now. He probably wouldn’t even want to touch you after this.
You shake the nasty thought away, finally letting your eyes meet his as he slightly hovers over you. His eyes are full of worry and sadness, because he’s truly never seen you with this pained look in your eyes.
“Why are you here, Joel?” You croak, sniffling abruptly.
“Your dad called me and said you hadn’t been answering your phone and asked me to check in on you. I also wanted to check in personally because you haven’t texted me all week, darlin’. I look forward to your sweet messages.” Joel coos, bringing his hand up to swipe his thumb across your tear-stained cheek.
“Oh.”
“Baby, c’mon. Sit up,” Joel helps you sit up, and you softly whine as you did so. Your head was throbbing from all of the crying you were doing. “Tell me what’s wrong, angel. Why’s it been bad?”
“‘M not good enough.” You managed to hiccup, burying your face in the sleeves of the oversized hoodie you wore.
Joel didn’t say anything at the moment, just let you ride out the waves of your emotions as he held you gently in his arms. After about ten minutes, you moved your sleeves away from your face and looked at him again. Joel tilted your chin up gently, smiling softly at you. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a second.
“You will always be good enough, darlin’.” He knows that his words may have not been super reassuring at the time, but you were grateful that he was trying.
“I’ve just been so stressed lately. Feels like I can’t do anything right in life right now. I’m a mess.” You mumble sadly, looking down at your knotted hands.
“Hey now, don’t say that. You’re doing amazing especially given the cards that you’ve been dealt. This is just a bump in the road, not a dead end.” Joel’s words warmed your heart a little, and you cracked the faintest smile.
“There’s that pretty smile I see wantin’ to shine through. C’mon baby. I know you don’t accept help from anyone and want to do everything on your own, but this doesn’t have to be one of those things. Please let me help you.”
You’d been so adamant about being independent and figuring everything out for yourself, but god, look where your stubbornness got you.
You nod your head slowly, and Joel helps you out of bed. He walks you to your bathroom and draws a warm bath. He helps you take off your sweater and your underwear, guiding you into the tub slowly. You hiss at your sore, achy body as you make contact with the nice warm water. You close your eyes for a second to relish in the feeling of warm comfort.
When you open your eyes again, Joel’s looking at you with concern. Not the usual lust-painted look he has when he sees you naked like this. This time, it was worry, heartbreak, maybe even love.
He tears his eyes away from your face before reaching for your shampoo bottle. He wets your hair then gently massages the shampoo into your scalp, and you close your eyes in a moment of pure bliss. You move your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs.
You suddenly felt super vulnerable in front of Joel as your hazy, clouded mind of emotions started to slowly clear up.
Joel didn’t say anything if he noticed that you were beginning to close yourself off again. He just finished rinsing and washing your hair in silence. He then began to wash your body, gently dragging the sudsy washcloth over your skin. You shuddered at his touch. It was nice to feel it in a way that had no sexual intent.
Once he was done washing your body, he rinsed you off and helped you out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around your body and wrung out your hair. He got the brush from your bathroom counter and brushed your hair out for you, leaving a gentle kiss at the crown of your head when he was done.
He ushered you slowly out of the bathroom and back into your bedroom. Your eyes met his through the full body mirror you had, and he gave you a soft smile. He went through your dresser drawers to pull out a clean outfit for you, which was a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt. He gently grabbed the hem of the towel and looked down at you, silently asking for permission. You nodded slowly and he unwrapped the towel from your body.
Your eyes met his through your mirror once more, and he sighed. “You’re so beautiful, angel. I really hope you know that.” He kissed your bare shoulder. His words were sincere, and the look in his eyes told you that he really meant it. He helped you into your sweats and t-shirt, then brought you back to your bed.
“You need sleep, sweetheart. C’mon. I’ll be right here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Joel lays down with you, brushing his fingers through your damp hair.
Your eyes were heavy as you rested your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.
When you woke up, you noticed the sun had gone down. Joel was still underneath you, but his steady breathing assured you he fell asleep himself. It was nice to wake up in his arms, to be comforted like this by a man who was as tough and brooding as Joel.
He had a soft spot for you, and it genuinely warmed your heart.
You shifted your tired eyes to look up at him. He looked so peaceful sleeping; like he didn’t have a problem in the world and the usual furrow in his brow had completely dissipated. He looked younger this way. More carefree.
He must’ve sensed a shift in movement, because his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you.
“Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?” He asks, bringing a hand to cup your jaw gently. You give him a soft smile, bringing your own hand up to caress the stubble on his chin. He watched you carefully, wondering what was going through your mind.
“‘M okay. Just got a headache is all.” You said.
“You need to eat, darlin’.”
You nodded in knowing, but the thought of eating seemed so exhausting. You just wanted to sleep. But, you know Joel would put up a fight and make you eat something, even if it was small.
“I know.”
“I can fix something up for you, or we can order your favorite takeout.” He offers, gently bringing his lips to your forehead once more. You’d never felt so much tenderness and care from the man, so the fact that he was being as gentle as he was almost astonished you. You knew he was capable of doing so, but the only person he ever showed this side to was Sarah.
“A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is fine.” You reason, hoping he’ll agree. It might’ve not been much, but at least it’s something, right?
“Okay sweetheart. Let me make that for you and I’ll be right back, alright?”
You nod and shift your body so he can maneuver himself from under you to go downstairs and fix you up the sandwich. You laid back on your bed, feeling slightly better. Joel really didn’t need to do all of this for you, yet here he was… taking care of you. The thought nearly made you cry again, but you swallowed the lump in your throat.
You fished your phone off of your nightstand to see three missed calls and five texts from your dad. You sighed and texted him back, letting him know that you were okay and everything was fine. Your dad knew about your battle with anxiety and depression and how it could be sometimes, so as any dad would, he worried.
You’d always reassure him everything was fine, but deep down he knew it wasn’t all fine. He knew there was stuff you didn’t want to talk about, and thankfully, he didn’t push.
Your phone shortly buzzing brought you from your thoughts, with a text from your dad that simply said ‘love you, kiddo’ with a red heart emoji. You hearted the message before locking your phone and setting it on your nightstand once again.
Joel came into your room seconds after with a paper plate that contained a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off and some pretzels on the side in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.
He hands you the plate as you sit up, and you quietly thank him. You ate slowly, and Joel watched you. You look up at him as you take a bite from your sandwich, and he clears his throat.
“You know, darlin’,” Joel toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. “I may not know what you’re going through at the moment, but I can promise you I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me. Just say the word and I’m there.” Joel reassures, sitting on your bed once more.
“Thank you, Joel. I’m sorry you had to, uh, find me like this and… bathe me.” You look down at your plate, slowly swallowing the bite you were chewing.
“Don’t ever apologize, sweetheart. You needed to be taken care of. There’s nothing wrong with that. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with letting someone do so for you, okay?”
You find yourself leaning forward, touching your forehead with Joel’s. Your noses brush together for a second before he reaches up to cup your cheek and pull away from you. He’d love to kiss you, but he didn’t know if doing so in such a vulnerable time for you was really appropriate.
You felt his hesitancy, so you put your hand on the back of his neck to coax him closer to you, and your lips met his soft ones. It was a short and sweet kiss, something to say thank you a million times over. You weren’t very good with your words or sharing your emotions, so naturally, this was your way of doing so.
He smiled against your lips and kept you there for a second, just holding you and relishing in the sweet, loving, tender moment between you both.
And for that and the man that he is, you’ll be forever grateful for Joel.
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tag list: @cool-iguana ily
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tessa-quayle · 10 months
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👀
Are you a reader in search of a fic that involves no age gap*?   
this post is inspired by @famouslyanonymous - she queried about this a while ago and in chaotic Virgo fashion, I’ve started a compilation of writers in the Pedro Pascal character fanfic crowd whose stories fit this criteria (note: the list skews f!reader, OFC, a few GN!readers, so if you have more diverse recs, please share).  
[*no age gap includes fics where age is not specified and the reader/insert is broadly inclusive of that with regard to backstory, and/or where if there is some technical age difference the fic’s pairings are contemporaries/same generation, ie two adults of voting age before a certain fungal outbreak in 2003]
if you want to be added (or removed) and/or have friends you want to signal boost, let me know.  clearly not an exhaustive list.
in alphabetical order below the break. :)
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@artemiseamoon​ - masterlist
@avastrasposts​ - masterlist
@elvenmother​ - masterlist
@flightlessangelwings​ - masterlist
@fuckyeahdindjarin​ - masterlist
@gnpwdrnwhiskey​ - masterlist
@goodwithcheese​ - masterlist
@grogusmum​ - masterlist
@insomniamamma​ - masterlist
@jazzelsaur​ - masterlist
@jomiddlemarch​ - AO3 series
@julesonrecord​ - masterlist
@katareyoudrilling​ - masterlist
@ladamedusoif​ - masterlist
@lavenderursa​ - masterlist
@lunapascal​ - masterlist
@oonajaeadira​ - masterlist
@prolix-yuy​ - masterlist
@radiowallet​ - masterlist
@sirowsky​ - masterlist
@skvatnavle​ - masterlist
@something-tofightfor​ - masterlist
@the-blind-assassin-12 - masterlist
@wildemaven​ - masterlist
@yespolkadotkitty​ - masterlist
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pedroscurls · 5 months
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Dirty Little Secret (Part 1).
Character(s): no-outbreak, age-gap!Joel Miller x fem!Reader Summary: You meet Joel Miller, the father of the bride. Word count: 1.9k A/N: Lol, I said I was gonna post this tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. I hope you guys enjoy this first part and thank you to anyone who reads this! As mentioned, idk what to call this, best friend’s fiancée’s dad!Joel x fem!reader? Lol, I feel like that's a bit complicated, but there's an age gap in this story. This is also pulled from my own experience (only the sexual tension... unfortunately nothin' happened lol🫣) Warning: age-gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early-30s) SERIES MASTERLIST
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“So… Can you make it?”
“I wouldn’t miss it, Drew.” you tell your best friend, gently nudging his shoulder. “I just still can’t believe you’re finally settling down. I never thought I’d see the day.”
He laughs. Andrew - or Drew - has been your best friend since you were kids. You had moved into the neighborhood with your mom after she and your dad divorced and you remember how Drew and his family had welcomed you with open arms whenever your mom was too inebriated to take care of you. 
Living next door to Drew and his family was a godsend to you, especially at the young age of eight. They protected you. They made you feel safe, made you feel loved. It was always a stark contrast between your home and his. Drew’s house, from the moment you stepped foot inside, always gave you the warm feeling in your belly and you always found yourself never wanting to leave, not wanting to go back home to the empty and lonely feeling that you experienced every night. 
And now, over twenty years later, Drew and his family have maintained that unspoken promise to keep you safe, to protect you, and to always make sure that you were loved. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Drew rolls his eyes. “What about you? When are you gonna settle down?” 
Now it was your turn to laugh. You grab your wine glass and finish the last remaining liquid. “I’m not the marrying type,” you respond. 
“You won’t turn out like your parents,” he says softly. 
“Drew, I know,” you sigh. “I just– I don’t want to open myself up like that. It’s too scary.” 
“You never know,” Drew smiles. “I thought I liked being single, being with a different woman every week or so, but Sarah…” he lets out a sigh of contentment. “She’s just– It’s been four years since we’ve been together and I think I fall more in love with her every day.” 
“Okay, lover boy,” you chuckle. “We get it. You’re in love. You’re about to get married… But I agree with you. She’s the best, and she’s the only one of your girlfriends where she didn’t feel intimidated by me or our friendship.” 
Drew sighs, “I know. It’s the curse of having a woman as a best friend.” 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “The women before Sarah were just jealous and not confident or secure in their relationship with you.” 
Drew nods. “That’s true. Besides, you’re like a sister to me.” He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 
“Like a big sister?” You tease. “Just kidding, we’re only a year apart.” 
“Yeah, and I’m the older one.”
Just as you were going to say something, Sarah steps out into the backyard and walks in your direction. You look over at Drew and smile to yourself, seeing the way his eyes light up when he sees her and how he immediately stands up to meet her half way, enveloping her in a tight embrace. 
“Hi, baby,” he whispers, gently kissing her temple. “How’d dinner with your dad go?” 
“It was good. He was asking about you. Same with Uncle Tommy.” 
“Ah,” he chuckles. “They’re gonna give me shit the next time I see them, aren’t they?” 
Sarah grins and you swear that you see Drew fall in love all over again with the sight of her smile. You can see her deep dimples on her cheeks and how her eyes soften and also seem to smile. It was one of the first things you noticed about her: the kind and warm look she gave you – it was the same look that Drew and his family looked at you. 
“You know it. Now, let me go say hi to my girl. Can you go inside and pour me a glass of wine?” 
Drew nods and kisses her cheek before he disappears inside the house. Sarah takes his seat and looks over at you, arching her brow. 
“What?” you ask. 
“I might have someone that is interested…” she grins. 
“Sarah,” you chuckle. “You and Drew need to stop playing matchmaker. The past two blind dates I have been on have been terrible.” 
“You didn’t even give it a chance,” Sarah sighs. 
“You know I like older guys,” you smile. “I just don’t want to settle down. Getting married and all that doesn’t have to happen for everyone.”
“I know,” she leans against you. “I just want you to be happy.”
“And a man isn’t gonna be the answer.” You look over at her. You can see the concern on her features – that was another thing that you learned about Sarah. She wears her heart on her sleeve and whenever she gets worried about the people she cares about, her face and expressions tell it all. “I’m fine,” you reassure her. “I got you and I got Drew. That’s all I need.” 
“Maybe I should set you up with my Uncle Tommy,” she teases, letting out a quiet laugh. “He’s older. Single. He needs a good woman to anchor him down.” 
“And why’s that?” you smile. “Is he trouble, Sarah?” 
She laughs, shaking her head. “No, he just hasn’t found someone yet.” 
“Like me,” you point out. 
“He’s older,” she chuckles. 
“Well, your engagement party is this weekend. I’m assuming he’s gonna be there?” you tease. 
“Oh my god, are you serious?” You see the light in her eyes, the excitement across her features. 
“No! He’s your uncle, how weird would that be?” 
“Not weird,” she laughs. “It’d be weird if it was my dad you were interested in.” 
“Isn’t he like fifty?” 
���More than that, fifty-six.” 
Drew steps out into the backyard with two glasses of wine, one for Sarah and another refill for you. 
“Is this an early celebration?” you tease. 
“We just wanna celebrate with you one-on-one before the pre-wedding festivities begin. It’s gonna be a lot,” Drew replies, sitting next to Sarah and wrapping his arm around her shoulders instantly. 
“Well, whatever you both need, just let me know. After all, I am your best woman,” you tell Drew. 
Sarah smiles and leans against Drew, bringing the glass of wine to her lips. “It’s gonna be fun,” she adds. “But Drew’s right. It will be a lot, so this is kind of like the calm before the storm.”
“Well, cheers to that then,” you laugh, raising your glass. “Cheers to you both and cheers for what’s to come.” 
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You’re running late and by the time you reach Sarah dad’s house, there are so many cars that you have to park at the end of the street. You’re practically sprinting to the house, hearing the music and laughter coming from the backyard. You’re wearing a sleeveless navy blue satin dress that stops just past your knees, the thin spaghetti straps resting on your shoulders with a cowl neckline. Their engagement party is semi-formal and you can feel your feet begin to ache from the heels you’re wearing. 
Your hair is in loose curls and you’re about to knock on the door when it swings open. You look up at the man, feeling your breath immediately escape you. His hair is slicked back, tinges of gray in the dark brown. You notice his beard, patchy in some areas, his plump lips begging to be kissed, but as you obviously ogle this man, you don’t realize that he’s actually speaking to you. 
“Are ya lost?” his voice is deep, rough, and you just want to hear it against your ear as he’s thrusting– “Are ya here for the party?” 
“Yeah, sorry. I’m late. I’m Drew’s best woman–”
“Ah,” he interrupts. “You are late.” 
You can’t think. The sounds of the music and laughter drown out as you stare up at this man. He’s wearing black slacks and a dark green button up with the sleeves folded to his elbows. He’s staring at you too, though, hand remaining on the doorknob as he looks at you in amusement. 
“You gonna let me in or stand guard all day?” you say, trying to snap yourself out of this trance. For a split second, you forget why you’re here and all you can think about is talking to this man and having him take you up to his–
“That depends,” he smirks, the dimple on his right cheek appearing. “You gonna be polite and say please?” 
You blush. You’re sure he didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, but you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on your frame. It gives you a bit of confidence as you step up to him, inches now separating your bodies. 
“Please,” you whisper. 
You see his smirk falter, his jaw tighten and instead of responding, he nods and steps aside to give some space between the both of you. 
“They’re in the backyard,” he adds. You step past him, looking over your shoulder at him to see that his eyes had fallen on your backside. When he looks up at you and realizes that you had caught him staring, he immediately clears his throat and points towards the driveway. “I’m just gonna–”
“Wait,” you interrupt, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “I didn’t get your name.” 
“Joel,” he responds. “Sarah’s dad.” 
Then, he removes himself from your grasp and walks out, shutting the door behind him. You clear your throat, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself. “He does not look fifty-six.” You turn on your heel, following the sound of chatter and music as you try to rid yourself of the lingering thoughts of Joel. 
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Joel isn’t expecting Drew’s best woman to look like you. When he opens the door and you’re standing on his doorstep in that dress, it takes every ounce of him not to look at you from top to bottom. It helps, though, that he notices you staring at him like you want him. It actually gives him confidence that a pretty thing like you is finding him attractive enough that you’re distracted enough not to hear what he’s actually saying. 
But then he hears you say that you’re Drew’s best woman. It all but crushes him, crushes any ounce of hope he was holding onto that maybe at the end of the night he’d take you to his bed. You’re off limits and you’re certainly too young for him, but he can’t help himself. 
He can’t help but ask you to beg and say please to come in. 
And when you do, without any hesitation, he feels the blood immediately rush towards the center of his pants. When you step closer to him, Joel has to tighten his jaw and tighten the grip he has on the doorknob. It anchors him, gives him something to ground himself or else he is going to lose his resolve… quick. 
When you finally step inside and walk past him, he turns just slightly to glance at your backside. The dress you’re wearing accentuates every curve while remaining modest enough, but he can’t help himself. Though, when Joel does look up, he feels embarrassed that you’ve caught him staring. 
He has to step outside, has to create some distance between him and you, but then he feels your soft touch on his forearm and it causes a shiver to run down his back. After he tells you that he’s Sarah’s dad, Joel doesn’t bother to wait to see your reaction. Instead, he leaves you standing there while he steps out of his house, shutting the door behind him and shutting the door to the inappropriate thoughts that fill his mind.
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next.
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kats-kradle · 5 days
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Edit: guys just assume both people are over 18
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luvrxbunny · 2 months
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homecoming ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader
a/n: i wrote this at like 3:30am 🦢
wc: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ MNDI, really light choking, dry humping, piv, some praise, oh and some hair pulling but i feel like joel miller smut = some hair pulling.. with me at least cus like.. THE CURLS (not proofread and much longer than intended)
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okay so Joel coming back from a trip, maybe it wasn’t even super long, a week or so but nothing you guys haven’t weathered before.
but for some reason; maybe it’s been a long time since he was away from you for even a day.. Joel all but loses his mind without you.
it’s like he goes into heat or something. like his body knows that he can’t have you and suddenly its craving you 10x its usual amount.
he comes back late at night, near midnight. all the guys wanted to take shelter for the night, arrive at the community in the morning but Joel hadn’t mentally prepared himself for another night without you. he refused to go another night without you.
you’re snug in bed when he crawls in. you’re pulled from your sleep by the dip in the bed but you instantly recognize the broad chest pressing against your back.
you gasp and bury your hand in his hair as quickly as possible. you reach over his face as he gives your neck a kiss and presses closer to you, poking you in the back with a feeling you’ve missed.
“is this okay? i’ve missed you so much, love.” you only hum in response, arching your back so he can grind against the plush of your ass, an opportunity he graciously accepts. he groans low and rough into the back of your neck as he starts humping you. “we can stop if you’re sleepy, baby.. shit.” his arm comes to wrap around you.
his forearm stretches diagonally across your torso as he cups your blood with his palm, using you for leverage to grind himself more forcefully into your ass. “could- oh god.. mmm we could w-wait for— until the—”
“baby, shut up.” is all you mumble before twisting to finally devour his lips in a kiss that he whines into. whines
his frantic humping turns into purposeful grinding as you pull away. his breathing is more erratic than you’ve ever heard it. his eyes are shut as tightly as his hand is gripping your hip, surely leaving dents in your skin.
you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow in front of you, too uncomfortable with your body twisted but leaving your hand to play with his hair. “needed me this bad, baby?”
you try to sound teasing, dominant but instead the question comes out high and breathy, sounds as desperate as he’s acting.
all you get in response is a growl from Joel before his hand leaves your boob to flip your body around, letting you face him, letting you— for the first time— really take in his disheveled state.
his hair is mussed— definitely your doing, but his lips are red and bitten, presumably from holding in his sounds to not disturb the silence of the night. his eyes are blown wide, glinting with a crazed look as he grinds into you gently.
he has his hand on your thigh, your leg pulled over his hip do he can grind right into your core, sending convulsions throughout your body.
after taking him in you meet his eyes again and he crumbles. whimpering a loose form of your name before burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent as his hand coming to your lower back to press your body into his.
“i’ve needed you more that air, dove. been craving your soft body, your- fuck- your sweet sounds.” his voice gets high near the end of the sentence, only reminding you of his need. “swear i’ve been seeing you in the stars at night. m’losin my goddamn mind over ya’.”
his desperation is leaking into your veins now, the same way you’ve started to seep into your underwear, growing tired and teased with Joel’s incessant movements against you.
you stay silent, let him release wet moans into your skin as you take matters into your own hands.
you grab his waist band and pull the buttons apart so roughly you may have broken them. you keep up your urgent demeanor as you free his cock from its confines.
his hips don’t stop moving as you fumble with his pants, he grinds against the air, your hands and your wrists, anything he can reach.
he moans your name when you wrap your hand around him but his breath is stolen as you quickly pull your panties aside and shove him in.
he’s surrounded in your wet warmth before he can take another breath. the same heat he’s been dreaming of, craving, fiending for over the course of the past week.
his head is finally pulled from your neck as he sits up a bit with his hand on your throat, his index finger and thumb holding your jaw in place as he forces you to look him in the eye.
his brows are furrowed and there’s a look of confusion and a softness that feels like begging in his eyes. you’re waiting for him to scold you, remind you who’s in charge, that you don’t do anything without his permission first. but instead he just pants against you, incapable of taking even breaths as his hips twitch softly and against his will into you.
you hold his eye contact as your hands come to the base of his spine, pressing down and curving his hips into you, guiding his slow and gentle thrusts.
his face crumples in pleasure, all his features scrunching in as he tries not to moan into your face. his hand twitches on your throat before tightening again as he leans down to press you against his forehead before resting his cheek on yours as he finally releases all the sounds he’s been holding in.
first you get a guttural groan, something that sounds like it came from the depths of his chest; low and rumbling. as his hips begin to move on their own accord, his moans change. they become more urgent, short and cut off as he tries to catch his breath. every now and then it sounds like the first syllable of your name but he’s never able to get the full thing out. “there you go, sweetheart. just like that.”
you try and stay composed as you guide him but he’s ramming into your g-spot like he’s been searching for it for weeks. your brain is turning to mush, melting out of your ears. when Joel pulls his face away from yours, wanting to examine your state, he can tell. he can tell that you’re not all there, that you’re holding on by a thread for him. it fills his chest with pride.
you watch a lazy smirk slide over his face as his hooded eyes meet yours. “it’s okay, baby.. m’here now.”
Joel lifts one of your legs, gripping your thigh and pushing it to meet your chest. “you don’t gotta be all tough anymore.” it feels as though he’s opened up a new channel inside your pussy, like he’s reaching places that weren’t accessible before. like he’s reached heaven, inside you. “you can let go, darlin’.”
you explode.
its that godforsaken southern drawl of his. whenever he talks to you in his low, smooth voice, like pouring warm honey right into your ear, filling your brain with sweetness. you have no choice but to fall apart. you hadn’t even been aware of how badly you’d been craving him.
you knew you missed him of course, but you thought you’d be satisfying yourself decently in his absence.
you obviously had forgotten when your orgasms feel like when they belong to Joel.
it feels like your body falls completely apart. you don’t feel attached your limbs anymore. all you can feel is the warmth blossoming violently in your abdomen. your thighs shake, and Joel tightens his grip, wanting to feel the rippling muscles under his palm.
he watches your brows furrow as your eyes roll back. you go limp in his arms, your entire body relaxed as your soak his cock in your juices.
Joel fucks into you at a leisurely pace, forgetting his desperation in favor of watching you melt into the bed. but as he thrusts he watches you slowly coat his cock, giving him a milky sheen, an award for his actions and a reminder of your own craving for him.
it’s more than a punch in the gut, it’s like he’s been completely winded, like someone has punctured his lungs and crushed his heart inside his chest.
he gasps once and sees your eyes snap open to his, waiting and watching as his body folds in on itself to fill you with its seed.
Joel almost falls on top of you, his arm catching him before he lowers himself into your lips. he’s too busy moaning your name and praises to kiss you properly. he rests his lips against yours as his mind clears, blank and thoughtless, finally satiated after a week of driving him crazy.
his body weight slowly increases as he blankets you, his cock pulsing inside you gently, gently pumping pent up ropes of cum into you despite the small amount already leaking onto your thighs.
“love you s’much.” Joel mumbles groggily into your ear. his hand comes up to stroke your head, soothing you as he notices your rapid heartbeat. “you’re my perfect girl, y’know that? everything i dream of, everything pure.” you feel that terrifying warmth spread through your chest, that intense, buzzing love that blooms in your chest whenever he opens his mouth.
“i know, joey.” your hand slides out of his hair and down his back, scratching gently and relishing in the way you feel his chest rumble with a contented hum. “i love you so much more, y’know that?”
he chuckles softly before biting you semi-gently. “no way.” he sighs against your skin. “ain’t possible.” he licks over his teeth marks before kissing them.
his lips just barely ghost over the area as he falls asleep, his cock warm and soaked inside you.
a horrid surprise for Tommy when he tries to welcome his brother home with a “gourmet” breakfast in bed service.
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I don't even know your name | joel miller x f!reader, 8,3k
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Summary: Your life changes dramatically and you turn to your best friend, Trish, for help. Trish is Joel’s cousin and little did you know when you accidentally met him at a bar, before Trish officially introduce you to one another. He’s emotionally unavailable -or so he thinks-, you have lost faith in people -or so you think. Basically, two idiots falling for each other, choosing to torture themselves.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, angst, Joel is 45ish, reader is 35 with two baby girls, allusions to smut, dirty thoughts, swearing, no physical description of the reader (but she will have long hair for smut purposes later on, hehe), no use of y/n, I’m not good at warning people, tell me what am I missing!
A/N: This has taken me forever, my life is a f’ing mess, but I didn’t want to abandon it. I’m splitting the story to parts, otherwise you’d been reading it until The Second Coming. 😅😏🫣 Thank you to anyone who’s taking the time to read this, I love you and I hope you enjoy it!😘
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“Guys?” you drag out the word, “Do we really have to have the talk?” you try to avoid the conversation, knowing yourself and how you usually respond to these kind of questions, damn your spontaneity, shifting restlessly into the couch. Joel’s presence, sitting across the room on the comfy armchair, near the lit fireplace, isn’t helping in the slightest. He looks too invested in your point of view, but you already expected that. You try to avoid his gaze for as long as you can.
“Yes! Get the conversation going, babe, don’t be shy!” a female voice comes from a different part of the house. Joel doesn’t respond, looking quite nonchalant, in an effort to not seem.. eager. But you know better.
“It’s not a matter of shyness, on the contrary, you know I’m in the habit of not holding my tongue, and that can often get me in trouble..”, you sigh, shaking your head.
I have a few ideas involving that tongue of your- Stop it. Joel suppresses his thoughts audibly, by clearing his throat. “How come?” he finally joins in. You love the sound of that word on his mouth. Shaping into a different meaning inside your mind every time he uses it, pumping all of your blood to all the right places. Four months into knowing him and you quickly came to realize if you let your guard down, you would be done for. And now was not the time. You had a million loose ends to work out.
“Oh, you know, people tend to get the wrong idea, assuming things about me. I wish I could shut me up sometimes.” Oh, the ways I could shut that pretty little mouth, darlin’. Get it together. She’s not good for you. Or maybe you’re not good enough for her., he’s looking away, focusing on Trish, his cousin and your dear friend, who rushes out of her kitchen holding your -God knows what round of- drinks, almost stumbling on the carpet, while Joel’s trying to clear his head.
“What’s the rush Trish, anything to get off your chest?” you ask, squinting at her in a shut-the-fuck-up way. She bursts into laughter before she can even begin to talk, not taking the hint. Or pretending not to. Definitely pretending. Menace. “You remember that time, where were we?” She’s clicking her fingers together in an effort to jog her own memory. “With that dude? Who thought you wanted to talk your way into fucking him? Like he needed any convincing whatsoev-”
“We’ve met a lot of dudes together Trish; you being the main reason we’ve met them in the first place.” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at your friend. Joel is raising an eyebrow, looking back and forth between you and her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific. Actually, don’t, you already embarrassed me enough!” you hold back a smile covering your face with one hand, as you pull your feet on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest in an effort to create a barrier between you and the space surrounding you, to feel some kind of protection around you.
Trish is looking so amused, she’s having a hard time concentrating. “I don’t remember nor the place or the dude, but you were defending, quite passionately I might add, womens’ equal right to one night stands and how we should have the same amount of pleasure as men without the guilt that comes with it; Joel you should see her, she almost raised the flag of revolution!” Where are you going with this Trish..?
“Did she, now..” Joel runs his eyes up and down, taking you all in, sipping his whiskey slowly, licking his bottom lip after he swallowed. Jesus, that neck.
You groan in frustration, “Here it comes. Another one who speculates. Ok, let me have it.”, you almost snap, observing the way he’s checking you out. But he knows better. There’s an intensity radiating out of him, you can almost feel the warmth of it on your skin and you let your mind wonder how he would feel like over you, under you or in any way he would choose to manhandle you. Manhandle? Where is this coming from?
“Hey, she’s the one who said ‘passionately’!” Joel raises his hands up in defense, his brows raised and knead together, clearly amused on the information he’s extracting so effortlessly. Trish takes her seat next to you to the couch, enjoying the moment more than she should, looking at the two of you.
“I’m not- I don’t- uuuuh, Trish why are you doing this to me?” you whine in exasperation, looking up to the ceiling, and rolling your eyes shut.
“Because maybe you should! Come on, live a little!”, she grumbles, grabbing your forearm, shaking you dramatically. Trish was actually living, more than a little, her life, full of experiences, lovers, you name it. Sometimes you wished you could live so carefree. She has been desperately trying to pour some of her carnal wisdom into you. For years. Now, given your emotional status, she believes it’s her best chance. So, she pushed.
“Should do what?” Joel interjects curiously.
Trish opens her mouth and spills it out before you can stop her, “Fuckarounds!” -her take on one night stands- “or at least something casual, since she insists that one flavor is better than a sea of delicacies.”, she winks dramatically in your direction.
“Yeah, no, that’s- that’s great, let’s bring Joel into this conversation” you sigh, rubbing your forehead and tilting your head down.
“Oh, I thought-” he looks genuinely confused at your reaction. At this point he’s confused about a lot of things.
“Yes! Exactly! Of course you thought! That’s what I meant before. Just because I can’t bring myself to do it, it doesn’t mean that it’s wrong, or that I’m judgmental of people that do it. Hell, sometimes I wish I was those people.. That’s what I was trying to explain to the dude-”
“You see?” she turns to Joel for backup, “quite the lawyer we have here! And the dude didn’t get the memo.”, she turns to you once more. You shake you head at her and you both laugh at the memory.
“She’s insufferable sometimes, but I’ll get her mind around, don’t you worry!”, she adds, taking her eyes from yours to Joel’s, smiling at the implication, almost like.. you’re spoken for?? What the fuck, Trish? Your face feels like it’s on fire and you’re pretty sure it’s showing, too. You can always blame it on the heat of the fireplace. Now it’s Joel’s turn to shift to his seat uncomfortably. He, thankfully, rises from his spot and let both of you know he’s heading to the kitchen for a refill.
“What the fuck are you doing?”, you hiss at her. “He’ll think I put you up to this.”
“Up to what?” Trish plays dumb, but failing monumentally.
“Dude, you can’t have your cousin think that I’m into him, it’s not right. I didn’t asked you to. Quit it.”, you whisper in despair.
“Love, seriously, you need to at least de-stress yourself.” Trish pressures on. “It’s been, what, six months since the divorce, four months in, leaving with me, I mean, that’s unacceptable.”
“Look, I’ll move, the first house I’ll find, I promise, I don’t want to overstay my welcome-”
“Hey, I’m talking about letting four perfectly good months fly away without getting any. Especially, when you have such a skilled babysitter. You're not taking advantage of me enough.” She moves her hands around her body, showing herself. “And I told you, you and the girls can stay here indefinitely. I fuckin’ mean it.”
“Well, less of the ‘f’ word in front of them, if you do!”, you tease. “Thank you, but I’ll find a place. I need to. I want to bring some kind of normalcy back into our lives. Their lives.”
“I know, baby. But seriously. You’re fucking 35. You act like your life is over. He’s not worth it.”
“We’ve been through that before Trish, it’s not about him, I just-” you exhale, shaking your head, “l don’t think there’s anyone out there for me, you know? I feel like I’m too old for any of this. Point me to the direction of one guy, just one, who would even consider to engage with a 35 year old divorced mother of two and I’ll take him, Scout’s honor.”
She opens her mouth to say something but reconsiders, trying to find the right words. She knows you have a point. “That’s why I insist for you to.. FUCK AROUND! No strings attached. How sweet of you to help me prove my point!!”, Trish exclaims triumphantly.
You pretend to be in deep thinking, finally concluding, “You know what, I’m done with men. Not worth the energy spent. Hey, maybe I’ll date you; we love each other, we practically live together, it’s a done deal!” You both laugh at the idea.
“Aaaaaw, I’m fluttered hot mama, but maybe you should give ‘em men a chance, before you flip the coin!”, she pushes on.
You really look at her now, trying to see her point of view. You were lonely, you were touch deprived, you longed for intimacy, but intimacy in your case meant sentiment. And sentiment comes form some kind of attachment. You wanted, you needed, hell, you craved to connect. “You know, you always insist on all that casual thing, but I’m in a place in life that.. what’s the point?”
“Um, the point of someone else giving you an orgasm?”, she deadpans.
“Oh God..”, you drug your hand down your face, feeling defeated. “Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure this coffee table here,” you point at it with your brows, “can find my bud easier than half the men out there.”, you blurt out in frustration. Joel coughs, choking on his whiskey. You both jolt from your seats on the couch at the sound, turning your heads, one in amusement and one in embarrassment, seeing Joel standing at the living room entrance, frozen in place. Neither of you heard him approaching. If you could hold your tongue for once, woman. Just once.
“So..” he drags the word out, “what about the other half?”, he shakes off the awkwardness of the moment and sly his way into the conversation. You both look at him with a dumbfounded expression on your faces.
“Joel, how long have you been standing there?” Trish wonders, raising one brow devilishly.
“Enough to know I was right to have been standing there as long as I have.” he smirks into his glass, swallowing another sip. You’re too mortified to register the question as non-rhetorical. You almost stop breathing, praying that would make you invisible, hoping he‘d somehow forget his question.
“So?”, Joel insists, looking at you through his lashes, crossing his legs and leaning against the doorframe that connects the living area with the kitchen.
“Excuse me?”, you manage to breathe out, feeling exposed.
Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind you exactly what you pointed out, moments ago. “You said that half the men can’t find y-”, he pauses, inhaling sharply, imagining how good you would look, all naked and spread out under him, but hearing in his mind how intimate what he’s about to say sounds, he corrects himself. “Uh, a woman’s bud.” He moves his hands in the air in a generic motion. You feel so embarrassed, you think you might explode if your heart rate doesn’t drop down. “So, what about the other half of us?” his eyes are burning coals, piercing through you. You pick up the insinuation immediately. He knows his way around a woman’s body. Ok, thank you for the burning image of you eating me out, fingering me to death or rubbing me to completion, Joel. But where the fuck is he going with this? He knows by now that you’re candid like that and you’ll answer accordingly, so he presses all your buttons on purpose, he’s got to be. You devil, we had a fucking deal. You smile, accepting the challenge as you decide to answer him. Two can play that game.
“Oh, you mean the emotionally unavailable half?”
He certainly didn’t expect this response. His face drops suddenly, his jaw flexes; you are positive that a nerve has been touched. He looks embarrassed, like a child caught with his hand in the honey pot and you immediately feel sorry for him. You hate making people feel bad. Even if you’re right. Damn people pleaser.
Too forward? Too soon? Maybe both? You open your mouth to say something -anything- but your mind goes blank. He looks down at his half-empty glass and goes “Huh.”, before he empties the poison of his choice down his throat in one gulp. He calmly leaves the now empty glass on the coffee table, forming a one-sided kind of knowing smile on his face and he leaves the room quietly, leaving you feeling guilty.
You realize that you need to breathe at some point, so you take a sharp breath, after you hear the front door closing behind him.
“Well.. that went well.” Trish comments, looking at her nails.
You snap your head at her, feeling ready to explode. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“No, but it leaves you minus one penis.”, she deadpans.
“I’m not interes-“ her eyes move up to yours so quickly, staring at you in a don’t-bullshit-me way, that you don’t dare finish your sentence. “Even I would be interested if he wasn’t a relative.” she feels the need to exaggerate.
“He’s not what I’m looking for, Trish.”
“But he might be just what you need.” Damn, she’s on a roll tonight. “Is there something going on? I mean between the two of you.”
Panic rises fast inside of you like waves crushing on rocks. You think you can hear your heartbeat. “No, of course not.”
Trish gives you an investigative look, as if staring at you long enough would make you admit the truth she thinks she knows. “Are you sure?”
“Joel and I couldn’t be further apart, trust me.”
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BEFORE
He observes you sitting on the bar stool for a long time, almost memorizing your every curve and line. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t even see your whole face, but something makes him stare. You stand out to him for some reason. Maybe it’s the intense antithesis against your surroundings. Still, while everyone moves. Sad, while everyone laughs. Quiet, while everyone yells into each others’ ears. Lonesome in a sea of people. Your gaze is soft and detached, like all the burden of the world is on your shoulders. Holding your beer for far too long, sipping slowly straight from the bottle, like you’re trying to prolong your stay at the bar, or maybe avoiding going back to where you came from. He’s standing up.
You’re sitting on the bar stool, looking absentmindedly at the bartender on the other side of the counter, moving around, serving drinks. And you’re just sitting there. Alone. Wondering how the hell did you come to this. You always thought it was kind of strange going out on your own. Never done it before. But here you are. Here you are.
It’s been a week since you left your whole life behind you, leaving everything you knew and hold dear, moving to your best friend’s house, temporarily. Until you figure out what you’re going to do. She insisted to babysit so you can go out and have fun. She was funny that way. Have fun. All you wanted was to just disconnect from the world. Not think of anything. Not worry about anyone. Not much of a choice when you are a parent though. Worrying is on top of your list when you have kids. Two little girls, two and a half years old and an almost six months old.
That’s what you did for the past couple of years. Giving birth and raising a baby girl. And then giving birth again to another one. Until your husband decided all of a sudden that he can’t do this anymore. You’ve become too cold, too distant, he felt under-appreciated, pushed away.
The fact that he was always gone, always working and not contributing the hours that he indeed was at home, the fact that you were practically all alone in this, was not taken into consideration.
Everything happened fairly quickly. In the course of four months you got separated, he didn’t even want to try to fix things. Not even for the sake of being able to say that you at least tried. And then other suspicions began to enter your mind-
“You really look like you need a drink.”, a deep voice distracts you from your thoughts. You would be almost thankful for the distraction, growing tired of thinking the same things over and over again, like a broken record, but your bad mood wins over this one. Without turning your head to look at the direction of the voice, you raise the hand holding your beer, motioning at it, in silence.
“Nuuuh, that’s practically water, darlin’.”, the man insists, leaning forward as he stands next to you, his body turned your way, his left foot crossing over his right, his elbow resting on the counter, holding his glass of whiskey. You still don’t turn to look at him and with all the patience that is left in you, you raise the bottle to your lips, taking a sip. “Nope, still beer.”, you answer and keep your gaze to the shelf with the drinks behind the bartender. God, you’re too old for this.
The stranger huffs a small laugh and pushes on. “At least lemme buy you a cold one. That one must taste like a piss by now.”
“Oh, you must have been watching me, then.”, you try to embarrass him in order to leave you alone.
“That, I have.” Oh, he’s got a pair.
“Well, don’t.” you snap and you finally turn to look at him.
Holy shit.
You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so beautiful. Someone, your kind of beautiful. Masculine and broad and dark but with a vibe of kindness and safety in his presence. He’s looking at you, patiently, with a hind of a smile on his lips, like he knew that you’d change your mind once you’d lay your eyes on him. You take a deep breath to compose yourself and start over. “Look, I’m sorry, you look like a decent guy, but I would just be a bad company.”
“You don’t have to apologize darlin’, you have every right to choose your company, or the lack of it for that matter. It’s ok.” he says and he’s starting to move away from you slowly like he’s going to leave you alone. And now he’s making you feel like an ass. Kill with kindness they say?
A thousand thoughts are crossing your mind, you haven’t done this for what it feels like ages, you’re out of your depth, you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t even remember the woman behind the mother, he’s gorgeous, why the hell is he talking to you? Ok, you know what? You’re going to fucking enjoy yourself. Just make conversation, fool around, it’s not like you’re gonna see him ever again. What do you have to lose?
You exhale hard, rolling your eyes to yourself and you grab his wrist lightly to ask, “Beer offer still standing?” surprising your own self. Damn, he’s warm. Pleasantly warm. I-want-you-to-envelop-me-in-your-arms warm. He turns his head to you, his eyes drop to your hand holding his, then back to your lips and then to your eyes. He lingers for a second too long and then turns to the bartender to order. You reluctantly let go of his hand and smile coyly.
You stare at each other for a moment and you both smile, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation. “I swear I’m not trying to do small talk or throw a bunch of lines your way,” he begins playfully, “but, you don’t look like you’re from around here.”
You audibly laugh and you raise your brows in surprise. “That’s weird,” you reply scrunching your nose, “I thought that’s what people do when they’re talking to total strangers at bars.”
He snorts a laugh, fuck he’s handsome, nodding his head, “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?” he asks amused, looking at you through his lashes.
“Well, it’s either that, or you really want to get to know me for my striking personality” you answer, gaining more confidence by his reaction. It’s not like you’re gonna see him again, right?
He nods his head in amusement, “You didn’t answer my question, though.” he reminds you. You roll your eyes playfully before you tease him, “You’re right, I’m not from around here and technically that was an observation, not a question.”, you raise your cold beer pointing it his way, nodding your head in a silent thank you and then you drink from it.
He stops with his glass midair, brows raising, smirking at you. “Ok, fine, you want a real question, I’ll give ya one. Why do you look so damn sad?”, his head tilting to the side, his ear almost touching the shoulder of the arm he rests on the counter. His eyes are piercing holes in yours, making you feel vulnerable. “Uh, I-, I-, shit; that bad, huh? And there I was, thinking I was holding my own.” you mutter.
“Darlin’, someone like you, sitting on your own, not looking around to notice the number of eyes ogling you, lost in your own thoughts, doesn’t take much to figure it out..”
“Someone like me.. you mean troubled?”, you try to clarify, troubled being the only translation your mind could manage.
“I mean beautiful.”, the man delivers. Oh. His voice and his gaze determined and serious as he speaks, making you weak on the knees.
You give him a shy smile and deflect the compliment. “Most men don’t observe half of what you just said.”, you deadpan and as he opens his mouth to answer you, you add “but you’re not most men, are you?”
He’s really looking at you now, it feels like he’s savoring your details and he just smiles. A beautiful, honest, kind of sheepish smile. It fades away quickly though, his face going serious again. He keeps his eyes on you, hitting you with his perceptiveness. “What did the fucker do?” you hear him ask you, suddenly.
“Wha- How did you- what makes you think-“, you are genuinely shocked, losing your train of thought.
“Humor me.”, is all he gives you, in a low voice.
His question felt so to the point, that there was no reason for you to deny it or avoid it, so you look back to your beer, fearing to see the denigration in his eyes.
You take a deep breath and simply state, “He left me, two months after I had our second daughter.” You exhale. It feels odd to hear your own voice, to feel your tongue move in your mouth, saying those words. You haven’t talked about it enough, actually -at all, if you’re being completely honest and it feels like you talk about someone else. It’s like you’re out of your body looking at you.
And now you wait. You wait for the pity, the uncomfortable silence, the unavoidable retreat. But none of those things come. You turn to look at him and he’s standing there, looking pissed. His body stiffens, his gaze darkens and you’re pretty sure that glass of whiskey in his hand, doesn’t have much life in it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ..” it’s all he mutters as he closes his eyes in frustration, rubbing his free hand over his face.
“So much for small talk, huh?”, you continue laughing, trying to relieve his tension. It doesn’t take, though. Why did he took it so personally? He opens his eyes again, looking at you seriously with a deep frown on his face.
You begin to feel uncomfortable, so you do what you always do best. Try to make everyone else comfortable. You start talking to fill the silence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve made mistakes, I wasn’t always the best wife, I was tired, I felt helpless at times, especially when raising two little girls with such a small age difference all on my own, not that that’s an excuse-“ you stop talking as he’s raising his hand in front of you to interrupt.
“Are you seriously blaming yourself right now?”, he sounds frustrated and confused, borderline offended.
“Well I’m not saying that what he did was ideal, I’m just trying to explain how hard it is to be practically all alone with two kids and how much it takes from you, how the balance is changing between the couple-”
“Ideal? That’s an interesting choice of word.”, he observes once again. Nice, you didn’t think he would catch that.
“You can’t keep anyone in your life by force. I won’t. I can’t control his feelings. It was the way he handled things that pained me the most.”, you explain.
He’s staring at you like you’re a fucking puzzle.
You sigh and continue, taking a deep breath, feeling defeated already. How you could possibly explain and how he could possibly understand? “I know most men don’t get it; you can’t understand how difficult it is to be responsible for two little people, making every decision, every second of every day, it’s exhausting, it drains you-“
“I know..” he whispers, looking at his glass, nodding his head in understanding.
“No, you don’t..” you mutter, mostly to yourself, shaking your head. He’s examining you for a second, considering if he wants to elaborate. He does.
“Sweetheart, I’m a single parent from the moment my daughter was born. Trust me when I say I know.”, he explains softly. “I get it.” His voice feels like honey to your ears.
You snap your head in his direction, shocked at his admission. He sees the cogs turning in your head, the sorrow starting to appear in your eyes and he adds with a bitter smile, “No, she didn’t die, she just left.”
Your eyes widen, unable to imagine what could have led a mother to that decision. But you immediately stop yourself. You don’t have the whole picture and it’s none of your business. You don’t get to judge. All you can say is “Fuck. That must have been hard for you.”
There’s a shift in the air, like some invisible little string connected you somehow, each of you with their own story, finding an understanding in each other.
As the conversation progresses he can’t help but wonder how did he get to that point. He was looking for a good time, maybe a blowjob or quickie in the bar’s bathroom and he ended up talking to you about his life. His daughter, his struggles. Voluntarily. And it felt good, easy, natural.
You laugh softly, out of context, shaking your head and he wants to know why. “I just-” you think again before you speak, “when you approached me I wasn’t even sure I could do that.”
“Do what?”, he asks in confusion.
“Talk to you.”, you admit.
“How do you mean?”, his brows furrow and his head tilt on one side, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upward. Stop doing that. It’s sexy.
“You know, me, sitting in a bar, talking to a stranger, it felt like I haven’t done this in forever.” It feels oddly liberating talking to him, almost like a confession.
“And how does it feel now?” he wants to know, his voice soft but commanding.
“It feels good.”, you give it to him. He makes you feel good and you want him to know.
“Good girl.”, he responds, his voice low, keeping his gaze on you, wondering how you’ll react. Oh, boy. Well, your panties are ruined. You bite your bottom lip and play along. See where it gets you. He sees that. The longing starts to become apparent on your face, in the way your lips part, your breath becomes shorter and your body subconsciously reacts to him, because you turn around in your seat, facing him fully. You clench your thighs in an effort to relieve some pressure between your legs. He sees it all.
“Although it’s a shame I didn’t get to witness you do your thing.”, you let him wonder.
His brows are raised in question, “My thing?”, he looks intrigued more than he’d like to admit. Gotcha.
“Yeah, I burdened you with my shit and I missed the chance of you flirting with me.” Someone feels ballsy. You don’t recognize yourself right now, but who cares, right?
“What makes you think I wanted to flirt with you?” he questions, almost genuinely. Almost. You freeze for a second, feeling like an idiot, but then you see him wink at you behind his raised glass.
“Right,” you drag the word, “so, you really wanted to get to know me for my striking personality”, you smile back to him.
He laughs. Genuinely. Beautifully. “Do you want me to flirt with you?” he pushes you, testing the waters. But not really. He knows he has your full attention.
“Sure, you seem like you can handle yourself.”, you answer before you overthink it and freak out.
He chuckles softly and he leans to you, right next to your flushed face, looking behind your shoulder and then down at you, his lips brushing your ear, his sparse beard tickling your cheek, one hand still on the bar and the other moving at the back of your seat, caging you. His scent invades your space, making you feel lightheaded. “Baby, you have no idea.” Your whole body is vibrating with want.
He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.
He can see you; clearly than you can see yourself. He knows you now. He understands. He can see your path, the struggles, the challenges, the worries that lie ahead on your way. He walked that path. He bled that path. He navigates it with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.
He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.
He wants to take care of you. To breathe pleasure into you, to give you all that he abandoned for his daughter’s sake, to make you feel wanted and loved. He wants you to know that you matter to someone. That he’s gonna take his time with you, savor you, taste every inch of your body, spread you out on his bed and make you scream his name, while you tremble under his touch, his mouth, his cock.
You don’t feel like a bathroom quickie anymore. He wants more. Even if it is just for one night. Just one night. Suddenly the thought becomes unpleasant.
You turn your head to his side and search for his eyes. He responds to your plea by looking back at you. Your lips are inches apart, nearly touching. You stare at his brown, chocolaty orbs, then his plush lips, slightly open and can’t help but imagine your tongue entering his mouth, penetrating them.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally. You want to feel him any way you can, right fucking now. You want his touch, his tongue, his cock but you’ll accept whatever he’s giving you.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
You want this. You got this. You slowly exhale through your nose and you nearly press your body against his chest to stand up. Your nose almost grazes his. You look at each other, both of you full of desire.
Full of promise.
He’s curious what you’re gonna do but he’s praying you won’t do what he expects you to. Not the bathroom, not the fuckin’ bathroom, he keeps chanting internally. Lemme take care of you. You put your palm on his chest lingering for a second, “Show me, then”, you whisper in his ear and you finally make it to the bathroom. That, took every ounce of courage you had in you. Goddamn.
As you enter inside, thankfully it’s empty, you look at yourself in the mirror. You try to comprehend who are you right now, what you’re about to do. You don’t even remember how it feels to have someone else giving you pleasure. To touch you. To make you-
You hear the door opening and closing, followed by the sound of the lock. He slowly walks to you, letting you study him, through his reflection on the mirror. Giving you time to change your mind. Please change your mind. He looks so good. So good that you have to turn around and face him.
His salt and pepper hair tousled but neat at the same time, his curls above his neck making you want to tug them. Hard.
His eyes are dark, full of hunger and desire. Your eyes fall at his parted lips and then to his chiseled jawline with his sparse hair for a beard. You wanna bite every inch of it. Hard.
His frame is imposing; tall, broad, his thick forearms bulging through his black shirt, his toned thighs strained by his dark jeans. And then you see his bulge. He looks big, considerably big.
“Like what you see?”, he smiles confidently, his low timbre making you realize that you’ve been staring.
You blush in embarrassment, looking down and biting your bottom lip. He enters your comfort zone now, his hand pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head upward to look at him. “No need to be shy, sweetheart; I like what I see, too.”, his thumb rests lightly on your bottom lip and presses down, to free it from under your teeth.
His other hand holds your waist drawing you close to his body, his erection touching your lower stomach. You let out a small sigh.
His scent is intoxicating. It’s a mix of his fainted cologne, the smoke of cigarettes lingering in the air, the alcohol on his breath and something unique. Something his entirely. His sweat absorbed by the fabric of his clothes. The more you inhale it the wetter you get. Saliva pools in your mouth, making you swallow hard.
You squirm in your place, squeezing your legs together. He notices. Of course he notices, like he did back at the bar. Reading between your words.
He caresses your ear with his lips, whispering, “It’s ok sweetheart, I'm gonna take good care of you.” He places one hand behind your head, gently bringing you closer to him. His other one rests on your back, slowly making his way down to your ass. You look at him, surrendered to his touch. Oddly, you feel safe.
“Fuck..” you breath out.
He smiles, a little full of himself, normally it would piss you off, but right now you don’t care. He ghosts his lips along yours and he softly kisses the edge of your mouth. He places kisses along your jawline and leaves an open-mouthed kiss between your ear and your jaw. Your body shakes with goosebumps, making your knees almost buckle, his hold on your ass tightens, keeping you in place.
You can’t think of anything right now and that’s exactly what you want. Not your soon-to-be ex-husband, not your messed up life, not even the poor attempt of an outfit you wore tonight out of boredom. Plain black jeans and a lingerie black shirt. Of course with a black lacy bra under it, you’re not that adventurous.
His mouth travels to the column of your neck licking it softly from top to bottom, biting gently where it meets with your shoulder. Your cunt clenches hard, pooling more of your arousal on your already-drenched underwear. His tongue is so warm and velvety, making your eyes roll in your head. Your hands- where are your hands? One on his toned shoulder and the other on his hair, tugging his curls.
You realize that he’s softer in his touch than you would imagine for a bathroom fuck. He moves so fluidly, expertly, you feel mesmerized and a tiny part of you inexperienced and self conscious.
“I- I haven’t done this before..” you feel the need to confess, worried that you’ll do something wrong.
“I thought you had two kids.” he raises his head, tilting it, while looking at you through his lashes and bites his cheek to hide his smirk.
You stare at him for a moment and then you both burst into laughter.
You shake your head in mocking disapproval and explain, “..not the deed, the- the one-time thing..” and you bite your lip in discomfort afraid of his reaction.
His eyes are searching yours and he finally asks, “Who says this is a one-time thing?”. Bold. Surely he’s messing with you. Your breath catches on your throat, that was the last reaction you would expect. You try to read his face but he gives you nothing. You can’t figure out if he meant that or was just teasing. He nudges your nose with his, relax, baby, he whispers and he resumes his kissing path down your neck and to your chest.
He’s taking his sweet time with you. He wants to get you out of this damn bathroom. He wants to fuckin’ wreck you and he can't do that here. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either by proposing a different setting, in case this is indeed how you want it, so he does what he knows. He’s driving you crazy. He’s gonna make you beg him to get out of here. To take you somewhere else, more comfortable. Anywhere but here. Unless someone interrupts you, making you take this elsewhere. Either way works.
You’re both panting from desire, his head moving back against yours, your foreheads touching together. He grabs the sides of your head with both his hands, while yours move around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. He’s going to finally kiss you, your lips almost touching each other’s, breathing one another’s exhale.
A loud knock on the door startles you and you jump in place. “Come on, man! Are you done yet?” The stranger smiles against your lips, pleased with his plan. He’s so ready to take you out of here, worship you like you deserve.
But the spell is broken. You come back to your senses. You’re in a dirty bathroom. With a total stranger. A handsome, funny, sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. What are you doing? This is not you. This is not how you do things. You have two kids back home waiting for you. You try to shake the thought out of your mind. You are a woman, too. You have needs. Needs that this man can meet with ease. No, there are people outside, waiting to use the bathroom. How are you gonna get out of here? Everyone will know what you’ve done. What are you doing?
The man detects your stiffness, the change in your breathing. You’re starting to hyperventilate. “Hey, hey, are you ok?”.
Your brain is overwhelmed, you don’t know how to respond. The knocking on the door gets louder now, more insistent.
“Give me a goddamn minute!”, the man shouts behind his back. His attention returns to you, full of concern, talking to you like all the time in the world is yours, like nothing else matters. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanna get out of here?”, his hands are still on the sides of your head, his eyes full of worry now.
“I- I need-” your breathing is getting harder and harder. “I’m sorry, I need to get out of here, I-” you push his hands away from your face.
He lets you, raising his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok darlin’, my truck is parked just outside, let me-”
“NO- No,” you don’t let him finish his thought, “I’ll leave on my own, I’m sorry, I can’t-” you just want to disappear, you know how you must sound and look but it’s out of your control.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that darlin’, I just wanna make sure you’re safe-”. But you’re not listening to what he’s saying to you, not really.
He wants to touch you again, hold you, make you feel safe. Protected. He wants you- no, needs you to know that it’s ok.
But he’s a stranger to you, so he resists the urge.
You walk away from him, unlock the door, open it forcefully and burst out of the bathroom, looking down. You don’t want to meet the eyes of the intruder outside the door. Any eye contact would make you feel vulnerable right now, exposed. With your head down you reach for your bag and jacket left on the stool you were sitting on, -what were you thinking, you could have been mugged- and you run to the exit door.
The man is right behind you, searching for you in the packed bar. You grab the handle, you open the door and you stand still for a moment turning your head to look at him one last time.
His eyes catch the door movement and his gaze locks with yours. His expression is sad and worried, not an ounce of anger or disapproval.
I don’t even know your name, you think with sadness.
He’s making a move to come after you but then you let yourself out of the bar. The stranger doesn’t have time but to whisper “I don’t even know your name..”
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ONE WEEK LATER
You’re looking yourself in the mirror while you’re getting ready for dinner. Trish wants to introduce you to her cousins; although you and her are best friends, you never got to meet them. Maybe because you both lived out of Texas, before. She came back not so long ago, you followed to get your life back. Now that you’re living with her, she wants the four of you to hang out. She says they’re great guys. Joel and Tommy. Whatever.
You’re looking harder in the mirror now, searching for any sign to indicate what happened a few days ago at that god’s forsaken bar was real. A bruise, a bite, a redness, anything. But there’s nothing. Like he didn’t want to leave a trace. Like he was a figment of your imagination.
Half of you wants to forget about him, half of you is hanging on tight on every little detail you can recall of that night.
Of him.
His deep voice, the warmth of his eyes, his smart smile, the way he put your body on fire with minimum touch. You wish he would have fucked you hard and fast against the sink, before you had time to overthink, before you became a coward, to leave you with something more to remember him by.
You still feel the burn between your legs every time you think about him. And as many times as you tried to extinguish this fire inside you, with your fingers, or your pillow, or your vibrator, it just. Isn’t. Enough.
Just- get him out of your head, you force your mind. You don’t even know his name. You spilled your guts to him, almost fucked him and you don’t even got his name. Who does that?
Well, he didn’t get your name either, but obviously that was not the same. He looked like he knew what he was doing and if he does it that often, at the end of the day what does another name matter?
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Joel is grabbing his wallet and cellphone off the console next to the door yelling to Tommy and Sarah, “Guys, you’re coming yet? We’re gonna be late, Trish is gonna be all over us, come on.”
Tommy and Sarah pause the movie they’re watching with an audible groan and emerge from the living room, putting their shoes on. “What is tonight about, again?” Tommy asks in boredom.
“Uh, not really sure, we’re gonna have dinner together and some lady friend of Trish is gonna be there, I think she’s letting her stay with her for a while.” Joel mutters.
“Oh, a lady friend,” Tommy insists, winking his eye to Sarah and she rolls her eyes to him. “Is she hot or what?”.
Joel glares at Tommy “Don’t know, don’t care Tommy, I think she’s got kids or something. Take the toolbox to the truck to fix the bathroom cabinet since we’re going.”
Tommy looks disappointed “Damn, not my cup of tea, then.”
“You and me both.” Joel sighs through his teeth. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
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You hear the doorbell ring and you check on the girls before you make your way downstairs. They’re asleep on their beds. You can finally relax. You hear Trish calling you, “Hey, babe, they’re here!” As you go down the stairs you see a handsome man with dark curls entering the hallway along with a young woman in her twenties.
“Heeeey, you’re here!!” Trish sounds so exited. “Hey cousin, it’s been a while!” Tommy responds, hugging her with one arm around her waist. Sarah takes her turn hugging her aunt in silence and with a warm smile.
Then the three of them turn to the sound of your feet on the stairs. “And that’s my friend I was telling you about!” Trish introduces you by name and you approach Tommy and Sarah to handshake them.
When you look at Tommy’s face from a closer distance he seems familiar to you in a strange way, but you don’t give it any more thought. He looks like someone who likes what he sees, judging by the flirty smile he gives you. “Hi, darlin’, nice to meet you!”, is his first response to you. You smile politely “ You, too!”
You turn your attention to the young lady then, Tommy’s eyes still linger a little too long for your liking. Not because he’s not easy on the eyes, far from it. You’re simply not ready for that. And you proved that to yourself last week. You let the most handsome stranger you’ve ever met, slip through your fingers. You didn’t even got his name.
Idiot.
Jesus Christ, not now, let him go, focus. “Hello Sarah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put a face to the stories!”.
Sarah laughs, glaring at Trish “I bet the stories are really funny! I only hope my aunt exposed herself, too, in the process!”
You give Sarah a one-sided smirk, looking at her conspiratorially, “Well, you know Trish, she’s never holding back!”, you all laugh vividly.
You already feel more relaxed, Tommy and Sarah seem so nice, easy going, it will be great to make new friends. Trish was right for wanting you to meet them so soon after you arrived here.
It brings an air of normalcy, it feels like, although slowly and fucking painfully, your life takes an actual.. shape. You’re here. You exist. You are being seen as a living human being. You are talked to, admired, cared for, building a circle of people in your life, each one with their own place and role in your heart. And that means you’re trying. You’re not giving up, you’re moving forward, for you, for your children most importantly. These thoughts create a warmth inside you, a sense of hope that everything’s going to be ok.
And then it happens.
His voice is the first thing you register as he makes his presence known. “Goddamnit Tommy, I asked you for one thing before we leave the house. One.”, he addresses his brother from a distance. “Of course I have to remember everything myself.”, he mutters to himself, shaking his head disapprovingly.
The hair on the back of your neck is rising. You could recognize his voice among thousands. But that couldn’t be right. It can’t be. There is no way the voice will match the face. So, you turn your head to the entrance.
First, you see his boots going up the stairs of the porch, next your eyes land on his lower and then upper body, fit thighs, covered in dark jeans, thin waist hugged by a black belt, broad torso clothed in a black t-shirt and a green flannel. You don’t consciously recognize what -or who- you see yet, but your heartbeat spikes and your breathing becomes quicker.
You look further up, his head is tilted down, he’s trying to put his car keys in his front jean pocket, the salt and pepper curls looking oddly familiar.
And then he raises his head.
It’s instant.
Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches on your throat, your mouth goes dry, you stomach clenches, your body feels on fire. Even your fingertips feel numb. Your mind floods you with memories of him.
His scent, his touch, the need he awakened inside you. His gaze locks with yours, like that night, stopping him in his tracks, right before the entrance of the house, both of you unable to look anywhere else. He keeps staring at your face, fearing that if he so much as roams his eyes to the rest of you, you’ll disappear.
You can’t quite read his expression, he looks- well he looks hot- but apart from that, he seems surprised, disturbed, almost.. pained?
Somewhere from behind you, you hear “Uuuuh, and this sunshine, is my brother, Joel.”
Joel.
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lady-of-the-spirit · 7 months
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Go read A Bride's Story it's a fun little period romance slice of life manga that focuses on the strength of female friendships and later chapters definitely WON'T give you anticipatory grief over the eventual Russian conquest over Central Asia and Russification of the cultures and ways of life you've been reading about this whole time
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redjadethewriter · 12 days
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Blank the Series: The Novel vs The Show
After finally sitting down and reading the source material for the series, I must admit that I had expected it to be more provocative. However, to me, it was more like reading a soft-core erotica - nothing too outrageous. I hesitate to even classify it as soft-core, but that’s the best way I can describe it. Of course, anything involving BDSM is bound to stand out.
Despite my initial reservations, I found myself engaged in the love story between Khun Nueng and Anueng. The story, although a bit too PG-13 for my taste, held my attention. In my analysis of the series, I primarily focused on the character interactions, their internal struggles, insecurities, and how these factors influenced their actions and decisions.
Being a crone, I naturally gravitated towards examining Khun Nueng’s character more closely, as I found her to be the most relatable. However, I must acknowledge that Anueng is a well-developed character as well. She serves as a reminder that, regardless of age, individuals can possess cunning and resourcefulness.
While Anueng may appear childish around Khun Nueng in the series, after reading the novel, I gained a deeper understanding of why she expresses herself in such an over-the-top and annoying manner. It’s because she wants to elicit a reaction from Khun Nueng, as it seems to be the only way to make her “look more human” or act like it. In the novel, Khun Nueng rarely shows facial reactions unless she’s prompted to do so, which Anueng does often. Otherwise, Khun Nueng would simply hide behind her stoic mask all the time.
Interestingly, Khun Nueng’s go-to response to anyone expressing a romantic interest in her is, “Are you worthy of me?” as a tactic of scaring them away. This phrase serves as her motto, even though she doesn’t have any specific criteria for determining who would be worthy of her love, mainly because she has never truly loved anyone. So, when Anueng challenges this line by asserting, “I’m not today, but I will become worthy,” it deeply shocks our ice queen, both in the novel and in the series. It’s something she never expected.
As I’ve mentioned before, Khun Nueng finds herself in quite a bit of trouble because she has met her match in Anueng. They are contrasting yet compatible characters, and that’s what I find intriguing. They possess similarities that draw them closer together while also reflecting their deepest flaws. In a striking revelation, I realized their insecurities were actually quite similar, but in reverse. Anueng becomes jealous because of her insecurities about being young and not having much to offer, constantly worrying that Khun Nueng might end up with someone her own age who has a more established life. On the other hand, Khun Nueng frets about being too old and the possibility of the young girl eventually growing bored with her, changing her mind, and leaving.
Khun Nueng exhibits striking similarities to her grandmother, both in the series and in the novel. They share an icy demeanor, a controlling nature, and a toxic fixation on perfectionism. Despite leaving behind her privileged status, these traits have carried over into her more humble life as an artist. I now understand that her choice to rebel against her grandmother was not all simply out of spite, but a deliberate decision to assert her own identity.
While Khun Nueng desires her grandmother to acknowledge her responsibility for Song’s death and their collective suffering, she also longs to discover her true self. Above all else, Khun Nueng yearns to experience a wider range of emotions. She craves the taste of disappointment, having never truly felt loved or experienced the exhilaration of a racing heart. In the show, she exemplifies this by placing her hand over her heart and feeling it race in the presence of Anueng.
Khun Nueng lacks ambition. Although she pursues a career as an artist to sustain herself, she does not envision it as a long-term path. She wishes to continue using her artistic talents, but without the constraints of working for someone else. Her yearning for freedom outweighs any financial concerns, despite her constant struggle to make ends meet. In fact, Khun Nueng embraces the hardships that come with being a “starving artist.” Her upbringing with her grandmother shielded her from feelings of disparity and anguish, making the challenges she faces now exhilarating rather than burdensome.
Khun Nueng remains unimpressed by materialism and possesses a practical approach to life. She values essentials like food over fancy clothes, which captivate Anueng in the novel. Khun Nueng refuses to let those who flaunt their status and wealth sway her, as she cannot be bought.
Overall, Khun Nueng’s character is complex and multi-faceted. Her resemblance to her grandmother, with her stoic demeanor, her secret pursuit for emotional depth, her lack of ambition, and her indifference towards status all contribute to her unique persona.
While watching the series, I noticed that the first episode started the story at a much later scene from the novel. In this scene, the characters were already familiar with each other. Initially, I was confused because I wondered why Khun Nueng walked the girl to the bus-stop and knew which bus Anueng needed to get on. The wordplay exchange between them, especially with Anueng stating she was running away and asking to stay with Khun Nueng, added to my confusion.
As I continued watching, around episode 2 or 3, I noticed the girl had a lot of drawings that Khun Nueng had made for her. Being the analytical person that I am, I figured they must have met multiple times before. My confirmation of this came later when I read the story.
To explain Khun Nueng’s constant worry for the girl’s safety and her habit of always walking her to the bus stop, we found out that since the day they met, Khun Nueng had discreetly made sure Anueng got home safely at late hours. She would even follow Anueng from a distance to her house. From day one, our favorite dead-face character had been the protector, constantly concerned about the girl’s well-being.
I would like to highlight the similarities between Khun Nueng and her younger sister, Sam. However, before discussing their similarities, it is important to address the issues that arise between siblings. The reason Khun Nueng behaves more like their grandmother is because she received the most attention from her. Sam acknowledges this fact, admitting that although both of them were loved by their grandmother, she never had her undivided attention. This observation became clear to me while watching Gap the Series, as Sam was the one who received the least amount of attention. This dynamic only changed when Khun Nueng left and after Song passed away.
Even until the very end of their grandmother’s life, Sam tried to convey this, trying to get Khun Nueng to reconcile with their grandmother. Episode 6 showcased their close relationship, despite their occasional conflicts. I also understand the perspective of sibling favoritism, as Khun Nueng received the most scrutiny and was molded by their grandmother to potentially take her place in the future. This is why I see such striking similarities between Khun Nueng and their grandmother. However, Sam and Khun Nueng are undeniably similar as siblings. Sam has a tendency to express her jealousy openly, while Khun Nueng displays it in a manner that is passive-aggressive. Both of them struggle to admit their jealousy and have a tendency to hurt their partners in the process, as they refuse to acknowledge their own flaws and weaknesses.
Sam undergoes a transformation. We witnessed her growth in Gap the Series, and in Blank the Series, we see Sam attempting to show her love for Mon by baking a pie from scratch. This action surprised Khun Nueng, especially considering she could have easily purchased one from a top-tier bakery. However, Sam wanted to infuse her love into the pie.
We observe a similar act of love in episode 6, but this time it is Khun Nueng cooking home-cooked meals for Anueng instead of going out to eat. This is why I concluded by saying, “Girl... you are lying to yourself.” Cooking for someone is an incredibly personal gesture, and I don’t do it for just anyone. Therefore, I know fully that she constantly deceives herself.
In conclusion, the novel and the series share many similarities. Although there were some necessary omissions and alterations to the timeline and character interactions, I hope these changes will be seamlessly integrated in season 2, maintaining the steady pacing that has been established. Based on the first 6 episodes, I have a sense of what elements they might keep and what they may change. However, I do hope that they don’t stray too far from the meaningful aspects of the original source material, which I won’t go into detail about. I must acknowledge that the novel was clever in incorporating elements that kept me engaged until a satisfying conclusion. Therefore, if I see these same qualities in the series, I will be truly impressed, and the show will prove itself to be deserving of my attention.
I appreciate the good content.
Thank you.
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emeriesmate · 9 months
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Oh yeah. A 14 y/o girl who decided to hunt has indeed been through much worse than her being forced to be kissed, touched and drunk by a man. Her hunting it's so much worse than her being forced to dress in a way that made her very uncomfortable and to dance on the crotch of a man until she threw up. 
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due to a post that floated around asking why is katara 14/aang 12 .. well the answer is oh so simple. Go figure.
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