#I am too early to be appreciated
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abbinurmel · 4 months ago
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SUCK IT UP SEETHE AND COPE BRAH
BwargggBUGHRRG, duBOOSH, tt tttt Rickey Rickey ECK WAGH WRGH GRR VOOM, WAH GOOGOL VO, VOMLLLLvrm, vrm, wAh ah ah, ah, ohhhhh
ohhh
.ohhhhhh BAMMOTHAFUCKA
TttttetttleWAHH
VRM, RARAR RRN RNREEE, RNNEEE, REEEP REEP
reerere RELEE RELEE, OOH, MAMA, YES DOGA!-
hmmm hummm, oh ohhhhh, hmmm hummm, ohhhhhhohhh
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BraBAWR, BABAR, BWARBAR BABAR. KRECK REAPY ❌CRACKMUNCHAS❌DAMNIT❌
BARBER! Wawhahahahaha, Haha haha HEEEEEE-
Fuck y’all niigeehz LOOKATMEEEE
oooo, UHH WUhhhhn zz zz boop bloop born bebebe
ZZZZZZzzzip,!
pssht,, FUCKAYAL NI-EENEEZZZZ
See see we see you see who see
HOO BUM WUMAMA MWUM
WUMMA WUM eeeezMMMMum
mum, mum, mum nanana, oh ooh. la la LALA.,💘
mummu-KSZT arf meow.
FUCK BOOM LAMB DOOM WAWA beeBOW
Nnnnn nnn. Zz t stat ztt zz t stat bootsncatsancatsanbits graGOGBookSHOP TWATS TITS tweet tweet
toot toot cashCRASH
Greeeen, leeeeap, green leeway leee leee WAH, scorpion, 💀
“đŸČFINISH HIM đŸČ”
gunshot noises, đŸ€źBLAUGH đŸ€‘CHAching wurr wurr thwappa chingk Ching👑
REELEEEEEP, voof voof pyt put pyt put, boog borr boog. PRR BORG.
Skeetch swerve VOOG, POT POT, POOT POOT, POT, BAH, BAHDAH, dootch doot ditditch, dooy, dooditch, GUGGUGGDODODODdtdtdtd, VOODOO DOODOO, DOOP, BETDETCH, doo doo doo ditch RAARRR
BHUHUH wow, WOW! Weeeeow (ooh la la la!đŸ’…đŸ»đŸŽ€đŸŽ”)
dANNN RRRRRGH, G GA RAWR, sh sh sh AGG, Vorg, BWORG, BOUM BOUM, BURGH. BOOT, BOOTDOOT, BOOM BOOM BOM duddd,
dddddddd, t t t ttska tska tsk
Eat fiber.
I hate beatboxing so much. I FUCKING HATE IT. If you make dubstep sounds with your mouth then I personally think we should be allowed to hit you with a really, really heavy truck.
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gingermintpepper · 9 months ago
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How’s Fields of Mistria? You mentioning it was the second time I heard of it, the first time being in passing, so I’m not too knowledgeable about the game.
AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!
Fields of Mistria is SUPER fun, since there's not much to do in it after you've completed the first year right now, I've dedicated myself to breeding and collecting all the seasonal variants of horses so I can name them after the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!
I also named all my barns after metamorphised lovers in greek myth because I have exactly one thought running through my head at any given point in time (Currently there's Crocus Coop where I keep my (gorgeous wonderful lovely adorable ouugh I LOVE THEMMM!!) blue chickens
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Cypress Barn where I keep my wonderful cows (who have been with me the longest and whom I cherish immensely! I'm not sure if Autumn cows are possible but I'm definitely aiming for a barn of all red and autumnal cows for obvious reasons)
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Minthe Barn where I keep all of my other large animals like sheep, alpacas and my very first beloved Chiron (black and white) and Iris (brown with spots) (the foal is Rigel) đŸ„ș
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And Hyacinthus Barn where I have a collection of small animals like rabbits, capybaras and my PRIZED DUCKS LEDA (the pretty blue and green duckie) AND CYCNUS (the pure white duck meant to mimic a swan!!) Even though it's technically a coop, I mistakenly labelled it a barn when I was inputting the name and I never changed it LOL
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My farm is also named after THE metamorphosized lover, Daphne herself, so it's called Laurel Farm
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And I'm planning for my Seasonal Horse barn to be named after the poplar since I quite like Leuke's story and I think she's fitting of housing the horses that will be the steeds of War, Pestilence, Conquest and Famine :)
Bonus: My house is still small and eclectically decorated, but keeping in theme with my farm, I do hope to go for a flower/garden theme
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<33
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eruptedinlight · 11 months ago
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Doug Jones’ Face in Every Role | 2 / ?
Dr. Randolph Fairfax - 1,2,3...Scream
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self-indulgent-paw-patrol · 1 year ago
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Paw Patrol Appreciation Week 2024
Thursday - Treats
This time I saved myself some time and made a two-in-one fanart XD
Hungry puppies won't get their tummies full with only dog food and cookies, right? That would be so boring to eat the same things all the time, even more for these two. They love some variety and new tastes!
I headcanon that Zuma absolutely LOVES ice cream and popsicles, especially some fruit flavored ones - though he never refuses that special recipe which is liver flavored too XD As for Rocky, he loooooves sausages, his favorites are also the liver flavored ones.
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queer-omens-in-the-archives · 1 month ago
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new woshing mochine. yay ÂŻwÂŻ!
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maplefield · 1 year ago
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finally started honkai impact 3rd. can someone please explain to me how anything works. i'm confused
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non-un-topo · 2 years ago
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Learned this week that I don't just love working in a library, I'm really good at it đŸ„ș
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hello-that-happened · 9 months ago
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Psst, dunno if you already knew, but askgiegueandcrew is posting again. They're also making a fan fiction reboot of the story. Thought you might be interested. (I do enjoy seeing you go crazy in the tags)
*deep breath*
WHAT
WHYYYYY DIDN'T TUMBLR NOTIFY ME THAT @askgiegueandcrew IS POSTING AGAIN
also yes I'm totally going to check out the fanfic
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ao3fujoshevik · 1 year ago
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oh my mind is so huge and has so many folds
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bibiana112 · 2 years ago
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There's nothing wrong with people having their dearest most specialest blorbo be Eric ztd it is unironically good for the ecosystem and I always love seeing the different perspectives from other fans but what I am here today to ask is why is no one like that about Mira. whatever happened to feminism.
#every categorically insane man in this series has their dedicated fans and every popular character also has a bunch of red flags so like#to be fair no one's too crazy about Lotus or Alice either hm like people either outright dislike them conceptually because of their designs#or you know just have an appreciation for them as characters but not quite focusing on them much at all#like me#and like are the tropes that make up her character problematic? yeah! that didn't stop y'all from liking Saito a whole lot#now he's better woven into the narrative of the game he's in but then my point's back to Eric lol#like it is just fucking ludicrous the amount of stuff in the whole Series not to mention the game Alone that she's responsible for#but it does feel disconnected (being responsible for the Kurashiki's parents deaths)#frustrating (being responsible for injecting Phi whith Rad-6)#and overall just kinda glossed over? (beheading Junpei and killing off D-Team that one time because she was in cahoots with Zero)#so like I get why people wouldn't like her she's a bad plot device but THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING#THAT'S NOT REALLY STOPPING ANYONE and it's not even like people are very vocal about hating her either#at most I've seen it be lumped in with some major complains about the game like as a whole#the way we find out so early she's a serial killer it's kinda shocking but not really? it ends up as just kinda ridiculous and underwhelming#imo that's the whole game but again even when it comes to people who Do Like this game#anyways free to reblog I Do wanna talk about this but I am absolutely Not putting this in the tag lmao could you imagine#like is the trope of having one big booba female character per game and for it to be a Defining Characteristic kinda not great? yeah#but also like shrug#we've let Uchikosh get away with worse
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bmpmp3 · 9 months ago
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its interesting as someone who used to be a bit closer to the very online capital A "Art Community" but is now a little more outside of it and focused on local art academia etc instead because the former always compliments me on "art style" and the latter always compliments me on the supposedly bizarre subject matter choices i make... its not bad its just interesting to see those two bubbles and how surprisingly separated they can be. unfortunately for them both, my art style is only Like This because i have a learning disability that slightly colours every line i draw and the unusual compositional choices like only drawing one eye and shit is because i was on deviantart in 2009 <3
#i dunno i was thinking about this because i was doing some experimentation with different ways to draw cartoon characters#i used to do it way more often but recently ive been super busy from school and family stuff going on (nothing bad just a lot of work)#the bmpmp3's artstyle is only extremely consistent when shes stressed!!!! jk jk but kinda LOL#if im too busy to play around my drawings will slip into whatevers comfortable for my dysgraphic hand <3 <3 <3#but i loooove experimenting and fucking around. consistency for brand purposes is long outside of my perspective at this point#do i wanna draw detailed hair and faces... do i not.... who knows. it will change within the hour#i do appreciate when people compliment my art style tho even tho its not something i really try to do#because while i dont try to make things look a certain way - recently i had decided to not hold back on my dysgraphic nature#i probably talked about it before. instead of painfully agonizing and trying to get a line perfect and scrapping a whole drawing because#of the hand-got-tired-after-2-lines jerks and wiggles i just decided to leave that all in. show off the drawing even if its scribbly#the other day i got a compliment saying my art style is robust. im not sure i fully grasp what that means but i really like that compliment#its very evocative. robust..... gonna be thinking about it for a while#but im not joking about the academia thing professors get so baffled by some of my drawing choices and like i straight up tell them#these are habits of children largely. children on early internet in my case that i never grew out of but also habits that children still us#go on an art website and sort by new and look up fanart for something popular with kids and you'll probably see someone doing#stuff with similar artistic choices. maybe not the same because i am 26. but similar. coming from similar places.#they always laugh and seem to think im being humble or making a joke.... im not orz im not trying to downplay my skills either#if anything im trying to bring up the skills of a thousand children uploading oc art every moment of every day.... they are out there...#yeah i dunno its funny these different relationships im having to different art worlds. in the end i will always probably be a tiny bit#outside of them all as some kind of alien or creature masquerading as human but i think thats what we're all doing after all
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grapeszn · 2 years ago
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just remembered being 18 and having an embarrassing crush on this actress. it was feb 2020. pandemic had just begun. lockdown was imminent. and for some reason in the midst of all this my brain decides to hyperfixate on this girl that looks like she jumped straight out of the 80s
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kenzie-ann27 · 2 years ago
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what do you think about kenaomi?
I did answer something like this before, but it is just as hard for me to say, I think. I like Kendall and I like Naomi, but I don't know if I really liked them together. I feel like Kendall's relationship with her was really similar to the one he has with Stewy, to be honest, so she didn't really bring anything new to Kendall that Stewy doesn't.
But! I did really really like their development in season three, especially towards the end in the birthday episode, how it showed a very different side of them. They seem very similar, both addicted to drugs and growing up in very rich and very broken families, but Kendall was just so much more broken, and Naomi finally recognized that and that they might fuel the bad things in each other when they were together. I like them very much as friends, and I kind of wish they explored that more in season four.
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ryker-writes · 3 months ago
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Well, here we are! After my head cannons about giving them a rock, and it might be some way to propose to fae, I’m here to deliver!
Request rules and Masterlists
Accidentally proposing by giving him a rock (Malleus)
Being friends with fae is confusing sometimes. Of course, they’re great! But their culture is new to you, and you’re trying to learn. Of course there’s bound to be misunderstandings and mistakes every so often! It’s part of the learning process.
Well, this is probably the biggest misunderstanding that could’ve possibly happened.
You’d simply wanted to give Malleus a gift to help express how much you care about him. So when you found this nice smooth black rock with specks of gray and green, you thought it was perfect for him. Who doesn’t love rocks anyway? From what you’ve learned about fae, they’re very in tune and connected to nature. So surely Malleus would appreciate the rock!
So when you see him next, you told him had a gift for him. But when you held the rock out to him, he was
stunned to say the least. The ever so calm Malleus Draconia had wide eyes when he saw it, and he’d gone completely stiff and silent. In hindsight, that definitely should’ve told you something was wrong. But at the time, you naively thought he was just stunned you gave him a gift. You were well aware he hasn’t gotten to experience friendships like the average person first most of his life. So it made sense why he’d be surprised when you gave him a gift. He’s not used to receiving gifts.
“Child of man
do you truly mean this?”
You’d smiled at him, and nodded, “Of course. I wanted to give you something to show I care and how much I appreciate you. This rock reminded me of you with the spots of green on the black.”
Just like that, the biggest smile grew on his face. One of his hands moved and gently held onto the bottom of your own hand that held out the rock, and the other carefully picked it up. He held the stone close to his chest, and looked down at you with such softness.
“Words cannot properly express how grateful I am to receive such a gift from you. I am delighted to accept this treasure. Rest assured, I will keep it safe and make the proper preparations for everything.”
It was hard to question what he meant when he said he’d make preparations when he looked so happy and held onto the rock like it’s sacred. He probably meant that he’d set something up to protect the rock, like a place for it to sit on display or something. Yeah, that seems like something he’d do.
You thought it was odd when Sebek was at the door to Ramshackle the next morning. He seemed rather upset, and he woke Grim up with his shouting, but he insisted that it was his duty to stick around. In your freshly woken up state, you didn’t quite process everything he’d said. Something about the audacity of humans, how Malleus is so humble and kind, and that regardless he would fulfill his duty to Malleus at all costs. But all that was pretty normal talk for Sebek.
It was a lot easier to let Sebek just escort you to your first class than to try and argue about being able to get there on your own. It was a lot quieter after he left to go to his own classes. Grim actually fell asleep during class, claiming that he woke up too early from Sebek’s yelling.
Around lunch time, Lilia had stopped by your table (Scaring Ace in the process). He’d greeted you with a big smile, and arms outstretched.
“Congratulations! Young people sure do move fast. But I’m glad to see Malleus so happy. He told us all about it when he came back to Diasomnia yesterday. It seems Briar Valley’s future is looking rather interesting, and more accepting of humans.”
Okay, now you were very confused, and so was everyone else. Unfortunately, when Ace asked what was going on, Lilia just laughed.
“Ah, it is hard to keep up with younger folks sometimes. Anyway, I will be off. Much to do, things to help arrange.”
He disappeared before anyone could get another word in.
It’s safe to say you were now thoroughly confused. All you did was give Malleus a rock, and now you have Sebek acting like he had to escort you places, and Lilia congratulating you? Was the rock some magical item? It wouldn’t be the first time you accidentally came across something magical. Maybe it was Malleus just being protective? He did have a habit of going over the top a bit to protect those he cares about.
Either way, the only way to know what was really going on would be to ask Malleus himself. So after classes were over, you and Grim made your way over to Diasomnia to find Malleus.
You’d never seen Diasomnia so
scattered. Several students were moving around quickly, some even avoiding eye contact or going still as you walked past them. And sitting in the lounge was the dragon prince himself, Malleus, with a big smile on his face as he spoke with Lilia.
As soon as Malleus saw you approaching, his smile grew again, and he looked at you with such joy and affection.
“Ah, Child of man, how lovely it is for you to visit. Everything is going smoothly.”
You blinked up at him in confusion, “What’s going smoothly?”
At that, he seemed surprised for a moment before answering, “The preparations for our marriage of course.”


What.
Grim practically squeaked beside you at the revelation and began shouting, “Marriage?! Who said you could marry my hench-human? You didn’t even ask for permission to propose to my minion!”
Malleus laughed softly, “There was no need for me to seek your approval. Child of man proposed to me themself. It was quite the honor.”
The small direbeast looked quickly between you and Malleus in shock, and slight offense that you didn’t tell him. Malleus wasn’t a mage he wanted to provoke, but you were his hench-human! How could you propose to him without even consulting or telling him first?!
In the pause, Malleus continued, “I have taken great lengths to ensure the precious stone is safe. It is a symbol of our engagement, and will be a fine piece at our ceremony. Grandmother has already received word, and will be welcoming you to Briar Valley by my side.”
Oh great seven. The Queen of Briar Valley knows you somehow proposed to the Prince by giving him
a rock?? This must be some part of fae culture you’d yet to learn about. Courtship wasn’t exactly a priority when learning about their culture, so you hadn’t gotten there yet.
Snapping out of your shocked daze, you had to ask, “We’re
engaged??”
Malleus nodded, “Of course. Was that not the purpose of your gift of stone?”
Part of you wanted to clarify that proposing was very much not the intention, but he looked so happy and Lilia was giving you a look beside him. Malleus even told his grandma, made Sebek escort you this morning, and now all of Diasomnia is treating you like some sort of royalty. He was so excited about it. How could you tell him that you weren’t proposing when he was so excited? That might break his heart.
Unsure of what to say, you stayed silent for a moment. Lilia, ever the protector of Malleus’ feelings, laughed lightly, “Ah young love. Proposing and yet being so flustered about it. It’s relieving to see the future rulers of Briar Valley being oh so in love. Humans and fae coming together after so long.”
Malleus smiled again, and stepped by your side, “I am honored to be your chosen partner. Now, we must set up a time for you to meet Grandmother before the wedding.”
Oh yeah, you’re done for.
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iamasaddie · 3 days ago
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AN HONEST MISTAKE
Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: swiping left and right on tinder, you think you match with Joel Miller, a handsome single dad in his late 30s. Feeling enamored and horny you decide to meet in person, only to be met with an almost completely different person. warnings: darkfic, dub-con eliments due to alcohol intoxication, gaslighting, very big age gap [Joel is 61], switching POVs, explicit sexual content. Some tags are not added to avoid spoilers, dm me if you need the full list. reader description: afab she/her, has hair long enough to be pulled; has boobs and ass; reader mid to late 20s-early 30s. word count: 6,2k
a/n: thank you for all of the excitement and interest you'd shown to this idea, i have been working on it for some time and i'm finally happy to show you part one. huge thanks to @arcanefox207 , Ally helped me to polish this chapter and shown me a lot of support which i truly appreciate <3 READ ON AO3
MASTERLIST | part 2
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Dating wasn’t fun. It always felt like an inescapable chore for you, and you tried to avoid it at all costs. Hiding your face in your morning cup of tea when attacked by your mom’s questions, her voice distorted by poor video connection. Joking only to avoid the topic of boyfriends and girlfriends when your friend kept nagging you about it. Losing yourself in an unsatisfactory myriad of hands that belonged to faceless people when the nights got too cold for empty sheets.
You looked at your table, a small hand-made sign read “do better” in your own handwriting. And that was exactly what you were going to do. You were going to kill not two, but three birds with one stone, and that stone was going to be going on a date. A real, proper date, with excruciatingly predictable questions and awkward first touches. And you were going to have fun. 
On the fourth hour of swiping Tinder, you were a breath away from ghosting everyone you knew and hiding in the Peruvian Amazonia for the rest of your life. The few conversations that you managed to have quickly died out when the person you talked to learned what you were there for. A month ago you’d find a pretty face and invite them over to smoke and have some fun, but that wasn’t a great start for an actual relationship. No, your fuckgirl days were over, so you went back to swiping. 
And that was when you saw him.
Joel M., 39 Southern gentleman with a beautiful daughter. Work in construction, so I can build you a house. I am looking for a real connection, please, respect that.
God, he was handsome. Your mouth started salivating as you swiped through his pictures. He was broad, tall and had a tool in his hand. Not the one you immediately started wondering about, but it looked like at least he didn’t lie in his description. Feeling like a complete creep, you screenshotted his profile. If you weren’t a match, at least you’d have someone pretty to think about before going to bed tonight.
Gently, as if afraid, you swiped right. Your screen lit up, and so did your face, you gave a wide grin to your phone. “It’s a match!”
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He was too good to be true. A gentleman, he didn’t lie there. Joel gave you the exact amount of attention to make you run towards your phone whenever it rang. It was definitely nothing like you expected. He was attentive, remembering what you said and when, never shied away from your questions, and on top of that he was devastatingly hot.
You heard a blip of a new message and unlocked your phone, a smile already plastered on your face like a Pavlovian reaction.
[Joel M.]: I was thinking, we seem to have a nice connection here, don’t we? [You]: I think so, too. A little unbelievable, but I am feeling hopeful. [Joel M.]: Unbelievable how?[You]: Unbelievable that no one snatched you up earlier. From where I am sitting, you look like a full package. [Joel M.]: Well, you’re sitting awfully far away, so I see how it looks like that. Why don’t we meet in person and find out if you still think the same, darlin? [You]: Joel, are you inviting me on a date? [Joel M.]: Only if you’re accepting. How about a dinner at my place? I am a pretty decent cook.
Your hand hovered above the screen. It wasn’t smart, going to a man’s place for your first date. He could be a creep, he could be a murderer
 But then again, you could never brag about your self preservation instincts, sometimes you just thought with a little kitty purring between your legs. 
You tapped on his profile again, looking at the zoomed in picture of his face. His brown eyes looked sad, but kind. A half-smile tugged on his soft-looking lips. Just a few sprinkles of salt and pepper in his hair. Even if he turned out to be a creep, you’d never had such a handsome lay before, and you were planning to check all of his tools as soon as you could, you thought to yourself before typing your reply.
[You]: I’d love that. Send me the address?
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You weren’t worried, not really. You never struggled with too low of self-esteem. You knew your strong suits, and you wore them like armor. The upcoming date sent a pleasant shiver down your back, anticipation made you giggle into the void of your lonely apartment. The closer the day came, the giddier you became.
So on the fateful night you had enough confidence to pick out the dress that was a bit uncomfortable but looked gorgeous on your body. You smacked some lipstick that complemented the shade of your skin, grabbed a small purse and a bottle of wine and winked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked good, you felt even better.
August kept tricking you with its weather, the days still suffocated you with heat while the nights were unpleasantly chilly. You hugged your naked shoulders and rubbed your skin in an attempt to warm up as you waited for your Uber to arrive. 
You got inside the white Honda Civic, the smell of cigarettes unpleasantly soaked into the seats so you opened up the window praying that it wouldn’t stink up your dress. The driver acknowledged you with a small grunt and a nod, you did the same, not willing to start a conversation. The estimated forty minutes dragged out and became an hour in the man’s GPS, of course you got stuck in traffic it was just your luck. And on your way to a literal dream man, no less. 
Your kitten heel kept tapping on the car floor, the annoyed-looking driver gave you a stern look in the rear view mirror that you completely ignored. You needed to warn Joel that you were going to be late, and it made you want to grind your teeth. You hated being late, be that a party, a dentist appointment or a walk in the park with a friend. It made you feel guilty, leaving your palms sticky with cold sweat. You clearly weren’t going to make a good first impression, and with the way you chewed your lip bloody, you might not even get a kiss. You looked at the picture of him you shamelessly saved to your camera roll. Out of the two of you, you were definitely winning the creep competition, while he was just a dream come true. 
You zoomed in on his face, your thumb caressed the pixels of his skin. There were smile lines around his lips, and you wondered what made him laugh so hard throughout his life that the remnants of the gesture permanently cut themself into his skin. Joel’s eyes were gleaming with youthful mischief, something you’d thought a person loses after having a child, but he clearly proved you wrong. Sun made his brown look like amber, adding to the overall handsomeness of the man. You imagined yourself next to him – yes, it was way too early, but you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering – he’d be taller, bigger than you, his strong hand on your lower back as you walk through the city. The eyes of men and women hungry to have what’s yours, but he’d only look at you. Yes, he was a bit older, but still young enough to have you on his arm without dealing with accusatory stares and venomous whispers behind your back.
A loud honking from the car behind you made you jump in your seat. The line of cars finally started moving and it brought a sense of relief to you. You had 20 more minutes, maybe you were still going to make it.
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The sound of your heels kissing the pavement echoed like gunfire through the neighborhood. When your taxi left you at the needed address, you looked around. It wasn’t too late, the small houses still looked alive with yellow lights and muffled voices. You took a deep breath, straightened your back and looked in front of yourself, examining the location. 
From the outside, Joel’s house looked nice. Nothing too fancy, the white paint a bit chapped, but the porch looked recently freshened up. A sturdy looking rocking chair covered with a blanket and a pillow gave the place a cozy feeling. His lawn was perfectly trimmed, and you imagined watching him mow it from that same porch with an iced tea in your hand. He’d be sweaty and shirtless, you’d drag him inside to fuck before he finished even a third of the territory. You clenched your thighs, a small pool of wetness gathering in your thongs. You better keep that thought away or you’d jump the poor man’s bones before he had the chance to say hello.
You checked your phone, 8:27 PM. Not too late, even acceptable in some countries, you tried to cheer yourself on. You hoped he wasn’t as insane about being late as you were or here went your first date in years. Gently, you tapped on the wooden door, the sound of someone approaching from the other side made you squeeze the bottle neck harder.
When the door flew open, you stretched out the hand holding the wine and fired out an apology in the most comical way you could, your eyes tightly shut.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrendous. I promise I am usually never late, ever.” When no reply followed, you opened your eyes, a smile still tugging on your lips as you took in the man in front of you. It was both Joel and not. With your hand still outstretched, your mouth dropped with a hundred different questions, but you only managed to ask one. “Joel?”
“Hello, darlin’.”
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“Is this some kind of a joke? Are you his dad or something?”
The man in front of you was not in his late thirties, hell, he wasn’t even in his late forties! The Joel that was staring at you looked pretty old, mid-fifties at least, you thought to yourself. His hair was mostly salt, no pepper in sight. It was inches longer than in the picture, soft-looking, it curled at the bottom. He was as tall and broad as you imagined, and it did give a little pang to your core that you quickly shut off. His face was ridden in wrinkles, prominent crows feet near his eyes that were still sad, still brown. You had half a thought to turn around and order yourself an Uber home, but the bewildered look on his face made you stop where you were.
“Darlin’, I know what’s going through your head right now, because I promise I didn’t expect you to be this young either! It must’ve been Sarah, my baby girl. She set up this thing, said she was tired of seeing her old man sad an’ miserable. Guess she didn’t think I was mighty attractive anymore.” He says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “She just straight up told me today that a nice woman would come over for a dinner, said she’d be here too, and if I loved her I had better prepared my nicest shirt an’ all. Christ, what was that girl thinking?” 
You caught yourself feeling bad for the man, your heart clenching. He was still definitely handsome. His stomach was slightly more prominent and his was shirt hugging him tightly in the middle. His hand that tucked a little white strand of hair behind his ear matched his face in little sun spots, skin that had been kissed by the burning star for longer than you’d been alive. But he still got it, in a silver fox kind of way. Poor man, put into such an embarrassing situation by his own daughter. Being willingly childfree had never looked more appealing to you. 
“You came all the way here just to be disappointed, I can’t tell you how-“
“I’m not disappointed,” you interrupted him quickly and stepped forward, an unknown force drove your hand to squeeze his forearm in a reassuring gesture. His eyes dropped when your manicured nails dug into his ironed flannel. “Just surprised, but that’s not a bad thing. We both unknowingly catfished each other.”
“Catfish? Ain’t that a type of fish?” 
“No,” you laughed lightheartedly, the man was adorable. The cold breeze picked up, and you were reminded that you were still on the porch, if any neighbors were out they were definitely getting a fresh batch of gossip to discuss before sleep. “It’s when you
 You know what, no matter, it’s not important.”
Joel looked hesitant, his jaw ticked and you noticed him look you up and down before swallowing hard. Was he blushing? 
“I want to make it up to you before you go. I made us a nice dinner when I thought you were umm
 age appropriate,” Joel tightened his lips and gave you an apologetic smile. “It ain’t catfish, just a steak, but I swear on my mama, it’s good.”
Before you could respond, your stomach growled making the decision for you. Your hand jumped to it, fisting the material of your dress as if trying to silence the embarrassing sound.
“Well, I don’t see any harm in that,” you smiled, accepting Joel’s invitation. The man looked harmless and you didn’t want to leave him sad and miserable, it seemed like he felt guilty enough. “It was quite a long drive.” Maybe it all could become a funny story you both would tell your friends. Separately. 
He stepped aside and you waltzed inside his house. It was big enough to still be cozy without making you feel trapped. The warm light made everything look safe and homey, hardwood floor creaked gently under your footsteps. The door lock clicked behind you and you turned around.
Joel was looking at you, a more confident smile now stretching his lips. The soft lighting took a few years off his face, and once again you noted that the man aged like a fine wine. That reminded you of the bottle you were still tightly gripping in your hand, and you stretched it out to Joel for the second time that night. He accepted with a muttered ‘thank you’.
“Feel at home, sweetheart, I’ll just grab something real quick.” Joel pointed towards his kitchen, the space was open, luring you in with a mouth-watering smell. 
You felt awkward walking around a stranger’s house, but followed his instructions. 
You didn’t see the way his eyes lingered on the exposed skin of the back of your thighs, his tongue flicking over his lower lip in anticipation. 
He disappeared further into the hallway, and you made your way towards the dining table. 
Alone, you took the opportunity to study the place you were allowed in. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very unique, or maybe you were just a shitty detective. Joel’s kitchen that spilled out into a dining room was disappointingly ordinary. Walls painted a soft yellow; polished doors of wooden cupboards and kitchen cabinets that looked old but taken care of; a four-person dining table that was now set with a few plates, simple utensils, napkins and wine glasses. You narrowed your eyes trying to see the pictures that were stuck to the fridge with small butterfly magnets. Your long ride and empty stomach must’ve taken a toll on your eyesight so you could barely make out Joel in those. There was a picture of him with another man, and
 You leaned over the table as if trying to get closer, to see better.
“You know, you can just come closer to the fridge.” Joel’s chuckle made you jump in your seat.
“Sorry, I was just,” the right explanation failed you, and you surrendered. “I was just being nosy.”
“Didn’t catch you going through my drawers, so no harm. Can’t really snoop if it’s out there to see, right?” Joel set the opened bottle of the wine you’d brought on the table and waved a bottle opener in his right hand. “Haven’t had wine in some time so had to go look for this guy,” he explained. 
“Whatever you made, it smells delicious,” you smiled at him. The sucking feeling in your stomach became uncomfortable, and you cursed at yourself internally for skipping lunch.
“Well then, let’s get some of it in you, shall we?”
Joel seemed way more relaxed, maybe your agreement to spend time with him made him feel less guilty for his daughter’s actions; or maybe it was the confidence of being a host. Either way, it looked good on him. 
You didn’t stop your eye from wandering over his frame while he looked away, putting food on your plates. His dark green shirt was snug around his broad shoulders, the soft-looking material translated the feeling of warmth and comfort you lacked in your dress. He had blue jeans on, and you felt your cheeks heat up when you noticed a firm ass hidden behind the rough fabric. Your hand left the table, and you tugged at your bottom lip absent-mindlessly. What was twenty more years? He turned around and since your eyes hadn't moved, you were now shamelessly staring at his crotch. The jeans did not hide much.
You snapped your face up immediately at Joel’s quiet cough. There was a barely hidden smirk on his face, so you decided that no harm was done. So what if you gave the man a quiet compliment? You’d been doing that for the last two weeks, even though apparently his daughter was the one responding to them. You could spare some flirting for the poor guy, he looked like he enjoyed a bit of your harmless attention.
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He didn’t lie, he was a decent cook. The meat melted on your tongue and the wine you brought complimented it nicely. You didn’t notice the way your glass was always full, Joel’s stories from the past kept you too entranced.
Heat was creeping up your chest, settling in your cheeks and you moved the wine glass away. You could tolerate a full bottle without being visibly affected, not your proudest trick but it was what it was. Yet, now you felt like you’d emptied at least a couple of bottles on an empty stomach, even though the bottle on the table proved otherwise. You felt dizzy, but not in a bad way, just more relaxed than you were planning to be. Joel looked more handsome every minute, his syrupy thick voice lulled you into a trance-like headspace.
“Can’t lie, you look mighty pretty, darlin’. Had I been thirty years younger it’d be hard to keep my hands to myself.” 
Wine dimmed your instincts, so you just giggled. Joel’s eyes darkened as he tripped his gaze from your face to your bust, your breasts straining against the silk fabric of your dress. You noticed him looking and cleared your throat, tits jiggling slightly. 
“Forgive an old man, sweetheart?” There was nothing sorry about his tone, but it slipped your mind completely, your guard almost all the way down. “As I said, haven't had a pretty thing like you here in ages.”
You tried to study his face, your brain foggy as you struggled to figure him out. “You compliment like a man deep in the dating pool,” you smirked, “makes it hard to believe it’s all an accident. Maybe you actually lured me in here
intentionally?” You raised your eyebrows, but couldn’t handle your own silly accusation, breaking down in giggles.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, this old dog is all bark no bite.” His smile looked sincere, kind laughter leaving his wet lips and he gave you a wink.
“You’re not that old,” your voice dragged the words out like you wanted to convince yourself more than him. You felt hot all over and you weren’t sure if it was the result of the wine you drank.
“You’re too kind, sweetheart, no need to spare my feelings. My prime is long behind the horizon.”
“No, you’re actually very handsome,” you didn’t lie, anyone with a good working set of eyes would see his attractiveness, and you had two weeks to cement it in your brain. “You have a very nice smile, and your hands,” your eyes dropped on the table where a giant fist was curled around his fork. “A lot of women appreciate a good set of hands.”
“Learned to work with them pretty well, too.” Joel nodded and smirked. “Leaking faucets, clogged drainage. Can fix it all.”
In your mind that phrase sounded naughtier than you were sure the man intended it to, and you reprimanded yourself, feeling a different kind of heat rise from your belly. With one swift movement you’ve emptied what was left in your glass of wine, forgetting about your need to somehow get home after dinner. Joel only poured some more in your glass, smiling softly.
He learned the dance moves long ago. Pretty birds like you were comfortably predictable, and even though you oozed a different kind of odor, he knew exactly what to say. He watched you sip your wine with ease, his own glass barely touched on the table.
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When the last piece of salad was cleaned off your plate, you felt a pleasant fullness in your belly. Your head was heavy in a sleepy kind of way, and you looked around, trying to find something to hold your attention on. Your eyes skimmed the living room, from where you were sitting you could see an old couch, in some spots it was now more beige than brown, its big cushions looked soft and the blue quilt draped over the back of it was calling your name.
There was a guitar leaning against one of the armrests and you moved your eyes back at Joel who was silently studying you.
“You play that?” You blindly pointed your thumb towards the strategically placed instrument and Joel curtly nodded.
“I pluck the strings, sometimes something bearable comes out.” He joked, the apples of his cheeks saturated with color and you reached your hand to take his
and gently squeezed it. Joel’s skin turned out to be warm and dry, the sensation of giving him such an innocent touch tingled on your fingertips.
“I noticed you tend to undersell yourself. Would you play something for me?” You didn’t want to leave yet, and your empty plate didn’t really leave you a reason to stay. You tilted your head to the right and gave Joel a sweet smile, hoping he’d succumb to your charm. He didn’t wait long before returning the soft gesture. Slowly, he got off his seat. His figure loomed above you for a quiet moment before he outstretched his palm.
“I’d never be able to refuse you,” he admitted. Your hand drowned in his and he tugged you up. You almost crushed into his broad chest, but to your own dismay he took a step back. Your insides throbbed, the smell of his cologne mixed with his own odor awoke every single receptor on your skin.
“Do you like old stuff?” 
“I’m still here,” you quipped and shrugged your shoulders innocently. Joel stopped, making sure you saw him roll his eyes in fake annoyance. He couldn’t contain the breathy laugh, though, so you knew he got your joke. 
You moved towards the couch, while Joel walked a step behind you, enjoying the view of your ass in a skin tight dress. The outline of your thongs was visible to him, and he smiled to himself, maybe you weren’t as innocent as you pretended to be. Joel bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from any comments.
His hand hugged the neck of the guitar confidently, while you made yourself comfortable on the couch.
“I think I know just the thing.”
Your eyes never left his fingers as he started to hum an unfamiliar melody.
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His voice lulled you in, deep vibrations as he plucked the strings reverberated in your chest. You felt so warm inside, the heat that was pooling in the depth of your belly rose and touched your chest, neck, the tips of your fingers. The dress clung to your skin unpleasantly and for a moment you wished you could take it off. Was it so wrong?
Your eyes traced Joel’s face, the sharp angle of his nose, the tip of it twitching as he sang gently. His lips caressed the words with a tenderness of a lover and you wondered when was the last time they did the same to a woman. Your thighs tightened as your body already knew something your mind only danced around. You shifted in your seat, moving closer to Joel, letting your knees touch.His eyes found yours, a question burning in his browns. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a small smile, he smiled back. The melody continued, his warm timbre embracing the words.
Maybe tomorrow, honey, Some place down the line, I’ll wake up older So much older, mama, I’ll wake up older, and I’ll just stop all my trying
Your fingers drew patterns on your dress, nails picking at the seam with nervousness. The fire in the center of you gave you confidence to follow through, and your hand ended up on Joel’s knee, slowly moving up until your pinky touched the wood of his guitar. The melody didn’t falter, but his voice did.
“Whatcha doin’, sweetheart?”
“It is a date, isn’t it?” The shreds of your confidence only allowed you to squeeze his thigh with a hint, yet your eyes looked anywhere but his face.
“You shouldn’t do something like that to an old man like me, will break my heart when you leave,” he sounded so painfully sad, it made your heart ache as bad as your pussy. You looked him in the eye then, god, he was so handsome. 
“What if I don’t leave?” You challenged him like a mouse challenging a lion. Joel shook his head, his hand gripping the guitar’s neck viciously.
“Stop playing with me, darlin’.”
“What if I’m not playing?”
You expected another sad plea, another crack in his voice. But instead, he put his guitar to the side and spread his legs wider than before. “Then prove it.” He husked out. “Prove that you know what you’re doing.”
There was no mistake in what he meant. His voice added a new depth into it, eyes glowed with something dark. Passion, you thought. Need. The one that was pushing you to your knees at that same moment. The one that numbed your skin when your bones hit the hardwood floor between his spread thighs. The one that guided your hands to his zipper before you could even steal a kiss off his tantalizing lips.
He was hot underneath his clothes, his skin was burning like he had a fever and you were almost too impatient to be gentle. Joel lifted his hips just enough to help you tug his jeans down, his grey cotton boxers followed. He watched you intently, and you watched his half-hard cock lay heavily on his full balls. They were hanging low, their size intimidating. But no more intimidating than the main course.
You weren’t offended that he wasn’t fully hard yet, still, Joel took you by the chin and made you look at him. “Sorry, darlin’, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a long time, but at my age, it’s just not enough anymore.”
You nodded, your mouth flooding with saliva at the thought of him growing under your tongue. He was thick, veiny, more veiny than the dicks you’d seen
before so you thought it was an age thing, however the vines surrounding his shaft only made you whimper harder, thighs squelching with your arousal. 
You leaned forward, inhaling full lungs of him. It was heady, strong, and made you dizzier than all the wine you drank. You reached your hand out with the intent of touching his cock, but Joel stopped you.
“Touch yourself.” For the first time you heard something dark in his melody. Commanding.
“What?” You were confused. Did he want you to just play with yourself? Because you were on the verge of bursting if he didn’t let you get closer to his cock.
“Put your little hand in your panties and slick it up with all the sweet juices that have been leaking out of you since the moment you saw me, darlin’.” Your mouth fell open, hand following his order under Joel’s dominant gaze. “Then you can wrap it around my dick, and prove to me that you really want this.”
It was so easy to just do what he said, without questioning the moral, the consequences. Your hand was wet with your arousal, pussy begging to keep it
there, to give some attention to your clit, but your mind was set on the man before you. 
He hissed when you wrapped your slick hand around his shaft and started jerking it slowly, feeling the girth of him thrum with growing desire. You looked at his cock, entranced. His shaft was shining with your own juices, a pink head became deeper in color as more blood rushed to his cock. You swiped your thumb over it, a tiny drop of precum glistening in his slit. 
“You’re doin’ such a good job, angel.” Joel’s hoarse voice was almost a whisper. You felt the steam coming from him, it made you sweat, your breath hitching. “Why don’t you put that mouth to use, hm, darlin’? You speak awful lot with it.”
It almost made you giggle, a plan forming in your head. Instead of letting his cock in the scorching wetness of your mouth, your head dropped lower. You
stuck your tongue out, lathering his heavy balls in your saliva. They were fuzzy, like a ripe peach, and you massaged them with the wet muscle. 
“Fuck, ain’t nothing angelic about you, huh?” Joel’s voice was barely recognizable, hungry and low it vibrated in your pussy. You opened your mouth wider, sucking his balls in turn. “That’s right, making me feel so good, sucking on my balls like that. Come on, baby, use your tongue.” 
You tried to alternate between licking and sucking on his ballsack, your spit drooling over your chin while you were panting like a rabid dog. The only thing that mocked your ladylikeness was your goddamn dress, and it was almost drenched in your own slick at this point. 
“Good girl, sucking on my balls like it’s what you came here for. Came here to make an old man cum? What a perverted little girl you are, sweetheart.” Your pussy tingled with your praise. The mouth on him made your head spin, like a newfound drug that affected only you he seeped under your skin making you pant and moan as you continued pleasuring him. Your hand jerked his thick cock in tandem with your mouth on his balls. Joel’s eyes never left you, as he continued praising you. “Mmhm, that’s good, drench ‘em, fuck you’re a dirty one.” 
You felt his hand at the back of your head as it pressed you harder into him, your nose was forced into his perineum and he almost humped your face with his groin. Your tongue hung out, and he managed to slide his balls across it before it almost went too low. The tip of your tongue almost touching his puckered hole covered in more hair. 
“Not today,” you heard him grumble before tugging you up. “Come on, darlin’, don’t make me waste a load.” He pushed on your cheeks with his hand, feeding you his cock in one movement. It was a lot to take, your teeth barely scraping his shaft, and you used your tongue to protect the underside. “Take it all, come on, darlin’, you’re the one who wanted it.”
Intoxication and arousal didn’t mix well, as you just moaned pathetically around him, letting him deeper in your throat. It bulged with the sheer size of his dick, you felt it, uncomfortable, but you couldn’t move, your body too heavy and tired. Instead, your hands found his wet balls, already tight and ready to blow every drop of cum he’d been saving for you. You tried to fit them in your hand, gently tugging at his sack to stimulate him further.
“Ready, sweetheart? I better not see you waste a drop.” His hips bucked, and your nose was pressed into the soft tuft of his grey pubes. Joel pressed your head into him harder as his hot load trickled down your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, the lack of oxygen blackening your vision.
He pulled out seconds before you were ready to pass out.
“Gotta tap my leg or somethin’, sugar. I don’t need you dying with my cock still in your throat.” You chuckled, not sure why. Joel placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip, slippery with your saliva. His whisper sounded gentle, “God, you’re a mess. Beautiful.”
You didn’t trust your throat to work, so instead, you tried to get up on your trembling legs. Your pussy still screamed for release, so wet you could feel your arousal escaping your thongs and dripping down your leg. You hiked the skirt of your dress up, not an ounce of shame inside, and straddled Joel.
“Whoa, darlin’, slow down,” his hands dropped to your hips, keeping you in place. Your brows furrowed. He didn’t look like a man who’d let a lady down. “Why don’t we change our location?”
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You didn’t get an opportunity to look around, your feet scrambling as he tugged you into a dark room. His pants were up, but undone, and you lost your heels somewhere along the way, your dress still hiked up like a common whore.
Everything was spinning, so when he dropped on the bed at first you thought he fell. His voice was navigating you through the darkness, but you could barely concentrate on it.
“Come here, angel, let this old man take care of your pretty pussy.” Joel smacked his lips, and guided you to climb on top of him, legs on each side of his body until your pussy hovered over his face.
“Panties,” you whimpered and heard an immediate crack of fabric ripping.
“Sorry, darlin’, can’t make you wait any longer,” his face pressed into the side of your thigh, sticky with your own juices, and you whimpered pathetically at the texture of his scruff scratching your sensitive skin. “Smell so good, fresh, like a new doll.”
You couldn’t understand what he meant, you didn’t even try to. When his lips latched onto your clit, your head tilted back and you let out a loud moan. Joel only moaned back, the sound penetrating your pussy alongside his tongue.
His hands gripped your asscheeks painfully, forcing you to grind on his face. His tongue slipped in your wet hole, and you felt yourself shaking on top of him, your legs giving out as he kept fucking you with his tongue. 
Joel growled in your skin, making you crawl to your orgasm faster and faster with every swipe of his tongue. 
The tip of his nose kept hitting your sensitive clit, as he pushed his tongue further and further in your fluttering hole. He kissed his way up, pinching your clit between his tightly clasped lips and sucked, punching a cry out of you with his raw vigor.
“Come on, sugar,” he commanded, “I feel her cryin’, give her what she wants.”
With doubled passion he flickered his tongue over your throbbing bud, and you felt sweat trickling down your neck and soaking into your dress as an orgasm rushed over you.
Your body felt powerless, and if not for Joel’s strong hands still holding you up, you’d have fallen back. But he kept you somewhat steady, lapping up all that your wasted body could give him until every swipe of his tongue started being painful and you had physically push his face away with trembling hands.
“Got too enthusiastic, my bad. Ain’t every day I get to drink from a fountain of youth.” Joel joked, helping you settle next to him in his bed.
Your tired body was half laying on top of him, fully drained yet still unexplainably insatiable. Forced by something deep in the pit of your belly, you dragged your nails over his soft stomach until you touched his soft cock again. Joel quickly stopped you, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand to his chest. You felt the sparse hairs on his nipple tickle your palm. His heartbeat was hard, but steady.
“Sorry, angel, ain’t that young anymore.” He said, kissing the crown of your head. His fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged at it gently. “If you want me to fuck that pretty hole of yours, you’ll just have to agree to a second date.”
Your words were slurred, eyelids too heavy to keep them open. “Maybe I will, old man.” 
He chuckled, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightened as he looked in the distance. A couple of flickering street lamps visible from his window were providing minimum light in his room and a possessive smile creeped onto his lips as he listened to you snoring lightly into his chest.
You weren't the first mouse to get trapped so easily, but something told him you were special. He wasn't ready to discard you just yet.
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mercvry-glow · 30 days ago
Text
Hey Lover
parings. jack abbot x younger!reader
warnings. age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s/early 30s), hospital setting, reader has a sprained ankle, reader isn't treated the best by the ed, nothing too serious overall, reader is considered to be bratty, some suggestive parts but it’s just comments between reader and jack, let me know if there's anything else!
notes. I love jack and younger reader, I felt there was a lot of me in this one lol! since so many of you requested this hopefully y'all don't find her demeanor annoying, I read it as the reader is a bit scared and defensive knowing that the ed doesn't particularly like her for whatever reason. but as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated as always!
wc. 2200+
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You could admit you weren’t the easiest person to get along with.
You liked your oat milk lattes extra hot, your lip gloss to match your water bottle, and your schedule planned down to the exact minute. You didn’t do chaos. And people around here—meaning, this godforsaken hospital where your fiancĂ© worked twelve-hour trauma shifts—tended to mistake that kind of organization for being high-maintenance.
And Fine. You were a little high-maintenance. But you weren’t mean
 And you definitely didn’t deserve to be sitting in some back hallway of the PTMC ER with your hair still in a claw clip, mascara running down your cheeks, and one ankle the size of a grapefruit.
You sighed dramatically, shifting on the gurney. Your baby blue workout hoodie was streaked with tears and did little to hide the shame you felt in this very moment. Your phone was cracked. And worst of all—your favorite pilates socks had blood on them.
Today was not your day.
“I’ve been here for forty-five minutes,” you muttered, crossing your arms and wincing when your movement tugged your wrapped foot. “And if one more person tells me to ‘just wait,’ I’m going to scream.”
The nurse behind the little desk—tight bun, tired eyes, and feeling high and mighty—didn’t even look up. “Ma’am, we’re triaging other trauma patients—”
“I am also a trauma,” you said, gesturing at your foot. “Just because it happened in pilates at 5am and not a bar doesn’t make it less traumatic. I heard a crack.”
From across the nurses’ station, someone mumbled, “No wonder Dr. Abbot keeps her a secret.”
You froze. The room spun a little, but not from the injury.
Jack.
You blinked hard, biting down on your tongue. You knew what they thought. What they always thought. That Jack Abbot—with his calm voice, sharp eyes, and salt-and-pepper curls—couldn’t possibly be serious about you. That you were too much. Too loud. Too shiney. Too young.
But he’d never made you feel like that. Not once.
You tucked your phone tighter under your arm and exhaled through your nose, preparing to wait another hour—until the door to another room swung open into the hallway.
There he was.
Jack in a white long-sleeve under his scrubs, his stethoscope around his neck, and his hazel eyes already scanning the room. When he saw you—half-dressed like a ladies health magazine, clutching a cracked phone and looking entirely out of place—his whole face changed.
“ Are you serious right now?” he muttered, storming toward you. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”
“She didn’t ask for you,” someone muttered.
Jack didn’t even look at them. He was crouched in front of you already, gently brushing his hand over your shin, checking the wrap someone had done.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you said quietly, lip wobbling just a bit. “It’s just an ankle. And, like
 mild humiliation.”
His jaw ticked. “It’s not just anything if you’re hurt.”
“I fell trying to do that stupid split thing you like—”
He gave you a look.
“Okay, gracefully collapsed trying to do the split thing. And my instructor screamed, so then I screamed, and I cried in front of a room full of strangers.”
“Sweetheart.”
“I ruined my socks.”
Jack sighed and kissed the top of your knee, just above the bandage. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Take me home? Get me out of this place in a timely manner?”
His laugh was quiet but real, and he kissed you again, this time on the forehead.
Behind him, someone coughed pointedly. He stood, slowly.
“She needs a reevaluation. Now.”
The nurse gave a half-hearted “x-ray is backed up” shrug.
Jack’s tone turned colder than ice. “Then she’s priority after critical. Or get someone who cares and tell them why I’m walking my injured fiancĂ©e to get care, myself.”
That got people moving.
Jack helped you up, one arm tight around your waist. You clung to him dramatically, batting your lashes like you weren’t totally milking the attention—but under it, you could feel his heart racing.
“You okay?” you asked, glancing up.
His voice dropped low. “Not until you are.”
You smiled, a little smug. “Told you pilates was dangerous.”
He just shook his head, holding you closer. “I should’ve never let you sign up.”
“You didn’t let me. You said, and I quote, ‘try not to flirt with your instructor this time.’”
“Yeah, well. Next time I’m going with you.”
“You in pilates?” You snorted. “Please. Your hips are too tight.”
“I have very flexible hips, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“Bed's ready,” a night shift nurse called.
You smirked at Jack. “To be continued.”
He groaned. “This is why they all hate you.”
You winked. “They only hate me ‘cause you love me, other than that I don’t know.”
And by the way he looked at you—like he’d walk through fire just to kiss you again—you knew you were absolutely right.
The space they gave you wasn’t fancy, but it was private. Probably borrowed from someone in observation or cleared just for Jack’s peace of mind. He didn’t say a word as he helped you onto the bed, tucking a blanket over your legs like you were made of glass.
“I’m not dying,” you said, wrinkling your nose as he fussed with your ankle.
“You’re really annoying,” he muttered. But his hands were gentle, steady as always, checking your range of motion and rewrapping your foot with crisp, even lines.
You watched him work, the little furrow between his brows, the tiny flecks of gold in his hazel eyes that always showed up when he was worried. His curls were a little messy, probably from running his hand through them a hundred times today, and his sleeves were pushed up, exposing the veins on his forearms you’d once drunkenly referred to as "your Roman Empire."
“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.
“You’re so hot,” you replied simply.
Jack huffed but didn’t argue.
He finished taping your ankle and stood, brushing your hair back from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s a sprain, not a break, but you need to stay off of it for at least a week. Actually stay off it, not your version of resting.”
“Which is?”
“Pilates in a boot.”
You grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“I’ll cancel your gym membership myself.”
You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I pay for it, try me.”
You didn’t win that stare-down. He kissed your forehead again instead.
“Get some rest. I’ll check in after I get off here in a few.”
You pouted. “You’re leaving me?”
Jack gave you a look. “I’m an attending. I can’t just disappear mid-surge.”
“Tell Robby I said please, I saw him walking around.”
That got a faint laugh out of him. “No more sass. Be good.”
You made an angelic face. “I’m always good.”
He was halfway out the door when you added, “And please ask someone if they can bring me an ice water! Or tell them you’ll do it.”
“I just said—”
You batted your lashes.
Jack muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the hallway.
Twenty minutes later, Jack was standing near the lockers, hands on hips, when Robby stepped in with two bottled waters and a raised eyebrow.
“Your girl okay?” he asked, handing Jack one.
Jack nodded, cracking the lid open. “Sprained her ankle trying to impress a pilates instructor, apparently.”
“Sounds like her.” Robby sat beside him, stretching his legs out with a sigh. “She looked like she was about to throw hands when the nurse offered her ice chips.”
Jack huffed out a quiet laugh. “That tracks.”
“She really hates being fussed over, huh?”
Jack shot him a look.
“Okay,” Robby amended, hands up in mock surrender, “unless it’s by you.”
Jack didn’t argue. He leaned back against the wall, letting the silence hang a minute before Michael spoke again—more careful this time.
“She’s got some
 strong energy going on today.”
Jack didn’t respond right away. Just glanced down at the bottle in his hands, then back up. “You don’t have to pretend you like her, man.”
“I’m not trying to judge,” Robby said, more gently. “You know that. I just
 never pictured you with someone so
 you know.”
“She’s also the first person I’ve met who makes me laugh like hell and still checks if I’ve eaten when I forget to eat. And she always puts me first. Even when it costs her.”
Robby’s brow creased slightly, more thoughtful than anything. “I get that. I do.. She always asks if I’m looking after you, like I’m the one keeping you alive.”
Jack’s lips twitched. “You kinda are.”
“Okay, but—” Robby pointed a finger at him. “She brings you little smoothie things and reminds you to call your sister and randomly knows what you need on your worst days. I see that. Doesn’t mean I fully get her, but I’m not against her.”
Jack finally relaxed, his shoulders dropping a bit.
“She’s not always easy,” he admitted. “But she’s real. And when it’s just the two of us? She’s
 soft. Like, the kind of soft I didn’t know I wanted. She brings out all this stupid shit in me.”
Robby tilted his head. “You’re kind of a sap.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Jack deadpanned.
Robby smirked, bumping his shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Just then, a nurse poked her head around the corner, clearly amused. “Dr. Abbot? Your fiancĂ©e says she can’t find her lip balm and her lips feel like they’re about to crack. She says quote—‘You know the one I mean.’”
Jack didn’t even blink. “Little pink tube, side pocket of her purse. Tell her I’ll grab it.”
The nurse grinned and ducked back out.
Robby blinked slowly. “You really do know her inside out.”
Jack shrugged, already standing. “She’d do the same for me.”
As he disappeared down the hall, Robby watched him go, still smiling. He might not fully understand your dynamic—but he didn’t have to. Jack was happy, the girl loved him, and honestly? That was more than enough as a friend. 
A bit later you had barely settled into your space—fluffy blanket over your lap, perfectly stacked hospital pillows behind your back, and a comically large cup a nurse had left on the tray—when a soft knock hit the doorframe.
You glanced up, lip gloss freshly reapplied despite the fact you were still in the hospital.
Michael leaned in with his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodue, looking not nearly as judgmental as you were expecting.
“Hey,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Jack’s finishing up his last consult, so I figured I’d check in. How’s the ankle?”
You gave a bright (but very practiced) smile. “Swollen, hideous, and humiliating. But I’m surviving. Thank you.”
Robby chuckled lightly, stepping further in. “Well, the good news is you’ll walk again.”
“Oh, thank god. I was already mentally rearranging my living room for crutches.” You paused, then added, “I promise I wasn’t being dramatic earlier. I just
 hate being in here. Even not as a patient, hospitals just freak me out.”
His brow lifted slightly. “You hang around one enough.”
“Yeah, but usually I’m here with iced coffee and lunch for my fiance, not a bum ankle.”
He smiled at that, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “You really do come in like a hurricane when Jack’s on shift.”
You looked down, suddenly fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. Sorry if I’ve been too much. I know I’m not exactly
 subtle.”
Robby tilted his head. “You’re not.”
You blinked, and he quickly added, “But you clearly care about him. And that counts for a lot.”
You looked up again, surprised.
“I wasn’t sure at first,” he continued, more thoughtful now. “You’re different from what I imagined for him. But then I saw how he talks about you. How he looks at you.”
You felt your face heat up.
“He’s a lot lighter with you around,” Robby said simply. “Which is wild, because I didn’t even think that was possible.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “He’s not really the warm-and-fuzzy type.”
“No, but he’s yours,” Robby said with a small shrug. “And that seems to be working out.”
You stared at him for a second, then leaned back against your pillows. “So
 you don’t hate me?”
“I never hated you,” Robby said honestly. “I just didn’t know you.”
You let out a soft breath, genuinely touched. “Well. You’ve officially been upgraded to my favorite of Jack’s coworkers.”
“That’s a low bar,” he quipped. “But I’ll take it.”
The curtain rustled suddenly and Jack poked his head in, curls messier than beforer and his hazel eyes immediately scanning you.
“You good?” he asked.
“She’s fine,” Robby said before you could speak, already backing up toward the door. “Being brave. And dramatic. But mostly brave.”
Jack gave you a long, warm look. “Dramatic is her default.”
You stuck your tongue out at him.
Michael was already halfway out the door. “Later, lovebirds.”
Once it was just the two of you, Jack pulled up a chair beside your bed and took your hand.
“You okay?”
“I will be,” you said softly. “Especially now that I know your work bestie doesn’t think I’m a total disaster.”
Jack smirked. “You are a total disaster. But you’re my disaster.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.
“Shut up and kiss me, Dr. Abbot.”
And he did.
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