i've literally never done this before, blogged on here, but hi i'm nova, β i have no idea what i'm doing on here, so just bare with me on this journey to figuring out how tumblr works.
i guess i should introduce myself a little, now that you know my name.
oh boy,
my pronouns are they/them
i'm over the age of 20
i love ramen
i'm an avid consumer of books and tv-shows
i'm a writer and a thinker with a lot to say
and i'm pretty sure my blog is gonna be nsfw most of the time, but who knows, am i right?
my dear friend suggested i create this blog to share whatever goes on inside my brain, i'm guessing she couldn't listen to me talking her ears off anymore, so here we go.
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Summary:Β a birthday party at Tipsy Bison is the last thing Joel needed in his life right now. But he had to be thereβto look out for you. And when, suddenly, a man comes a bit closer to you than Joel tolerates, he doesnβt hesitate. He drags you to the back of the bar and shows you exactly who owns you.
Warnings:Β 18+, Smut, age gap! (60s and 20s), voyeurism, getting caught in public, Joel calls himself βdaddyβ once, dom!joel, protective and possessive Joel, power imbalance, free use, cnc (?), established relationship, embarrassment, slight humiliation, fingering, unprotected sex, pinv, pet names
A/N:Β this is a request by this anon. I really loved this Idea, and because I never really wrote voyeurism themes it was real interesting lolz.
Joel didnβt want to be here.
A Friday night at Tipsy Bison. On that day where itβs stackedβfull of people he canβt seem to tolerate but has to because a community only works that way. The old jukebox in the back of the room, repeating the same old song over and over again, wasnβt doing him any favours. Noβit made him just more irritated.
It was someoneβs birthday. That sleazy, annoying old guy who favours the taste of liquor more than his kids, with the sayings that he was a doctor before the outbreakβwhich Joel didnβt believe, not even for a second.
But more, Joel couldnβt grasp the idea of celebrating birthdays. Who caresβyou get born, you die. Ainβt nothing to celebrate about. Especially in a stocked bar with fifty people just smelling their ass cracks at how close they had to be to each other.
He wouldnβt have come. If it wasnβt for you.
βYβcoming to the birthday party tonight?β You asked, looking from the mirror to Joel while brushing your hair.
βWhat birthday?β He asked, already a frown on his face. His hair still wet from the shower you two just took, and you can still feel them dangling on your back while he fucked you from behind. βSteves.β
He had to keep an eye on you. If it wasnβt for that damn age gap thing, his arms would be wrapped over your shoulder and his eyes telling every man to βfuck offβ before they get too close to you.
βFuckinβ steve. You goinβ there?β He asks, his eyes finding yours in the mirror.
βYea, have to. He is the one who always covers my shifts and even lets me out early.β
βThat ainβt no reason,β he murmurs, his hands coming to wrap themselves around your waist as you feel his naked, wet chest on your back. βYa know how the town is, baby. I donβt want anyone speaking to my pretty girl.β
Oh, and how pretty you were. Pretty little thing that loves to help people, always chirps around happily with the intention of spreading positive vibes. And of course, that attracted a lot of men your age in Jackson. It was no secretβit was just a matter of time before you finally got caught with Joel. You were his, and he was yours. Nobody had to know. But Joel saw it all. Every lingering glance, every laugh that lasted too long. And he didnβt like sharing.
So thatβs why he was sitting there in the corner, hand gripping the glass of scotch like a stress ball. His eyes fixated on your conversation with a young man, you lips tugging a smile and your body way too close to his for Joels liking.
He watched the way your head tilted when you laughed, the way your fingers brushed your hair behind your earβsoft, familiar gestures that Joel knew too well. But now they were being offered to someone else. Someone younger. Someone who didnβt know the way you moaned Joelβs name when the lights were low and the world was quiet.
But he couldnβt blame you. Even if he despised it, he always told you to act normal around other men so nobody catches on your relationship with him.
The guy leaned in, said something that made you laugh again, and Joelβs jaw clenched, while his knuckles whitened around the glass. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, slow and bitter, like whiskey left too long in the sun.
Then the guyβs hand slid onto your lower back.
And Joelβs body already moved before he even realized. The crowd blurred around him, voices muffled by the rush of blood in his ears.
βShe ainβt interested in you.β His voice cut through the noise like a bladeβlow, rough and final. The young man blinked, startled, his hand still resting on your back. You barely had time to react before Joel was on you.
His fingers wrapped around your wrist, firm and unyielding. No room for argument. No room for explanation.
He didnβt look at you. Didnβt look at anyone. You gasped when he turned and started walking, dragging you with him around the bar, past the pool table, through the crowd that parted like water around him. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. But Joel didnβt stop.
Then the back door slammed open, and the cool night air rushed in.
You were outside.
But Joel didnβt speak. Just turned you around, one hand gripping your hip, the other pressing firmly between your shoulder blades. You bent forward under his touch, cheek brushing the cool wall, hands against it and breath caught somewhere between surprise and anticipation. He was behind you now, holding you there.
βJoel, what the hell are you doing?β you ask, trying to squirm away from his hands.
But then you feel it. His cold hands beneath your dress, hooking fingers around the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your knees. A shudder leaves your lips when a finger nudges against your opening.
βSome scrawny kid thinks heβs got a shot?β He murmurs into your ear, kissing behind it.
You let out a low whine when he buries his fingers into you.
βHeβhe didnβt mean any bad, Joel. We were just talking.β
βAnd now youβre also protecting him, hm?β He asks, his finger starting to gently thrust into your cunt, while his other hand still holds you down. βYβtry to break your old mans heart?β
This wasnβt something new. This was routine. Joel didnβt need permissionβhe already had it. Youβd given him that freedom long ago. He knew your body, your limits, your yes. You didnβt resist. You never didβnot with him. You wanted this just as much. Maybe more even more than him.
But you canβt lie, it took you by surprise that it happened now. In the back of the bar. While people were still inside, still talking. The back door wasnβt locked. While at any moment, someone could walk out and catch you two.
You suddenly hear the zipper of his jeans opening, his fingers leave your pussy at the same moment.
βGonna show you that youβre mine,β he whispers before you feel his tip entering you slowly. A high pitched moan leaves your lips, instantly covering your mouth with your hand.
βNah, keep them on the wall,β he demands, taking your hand and pressing it onto the wall. βLet them hear. Let them all hear.β
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling him feed his cock into you in a quick motion. You want to moan out, to whine, to scream but you know there are people in the streets, and most importantlyβthe people in the bar are going to hear you.
βJoelβplease. Theyβre gonna know.β
βSo be it. Hid my girl from everyoneβs eyes for way too long,β His hands squeeze your hips while he starts thrusting into you in a quick pace. βEverybody gotta know that youβre mine.β
And you would love his possessiveness, you would find it cute. But at that moment, youβre too focused on not making a sound, while your eyes are stuck on that door besides you, praying that it doesnβt open and someone catches you both.
βYou biting back moans, baby?β He asks, his hand going down to find your clit, rolling the nub between his fingers. βCβmon make those sounds you always make. Do it for daddy.β
A moan erupts from your throat at the way Joel calls himself βdaddyβ. He hums in satisfaction, now hips bucking into you faster than ever.
βPlease, Joelβgod,β another one. Another loud moan, because now he found that spot in you. That sweet, soft spot in you that makes your eyes roll back to your skull. Joel smirks, already knowing, punching over and over to that spot.
βHm, thatβs what I like to hear. Keep βem coming, sweetββ
βJoel what the fuck was thaββ
Your eyes widen in horror as you look Tommy straight into the eyes. He holds the door open with one hand, his other one on his hip, while his eyes are just widened the way yours are.
Embarrassment rushes through your bones. Your cheeks heat up and as if that wasnβt bad enoughβJoel isnβt stopping. You look into Tommyβs eyes while your body moves against Joel thrusts.
βFuckinβ go back inside.β Joel spits out, his hands just squeezing harder against your hips.
Tommyβs eyes shift from yours to his. βYβknow there is a whole damn town inside, right?β
βThey ainβt my concern,β Joel says, while Tommyβs eyes land on yours again. You look down quickly, too embarrassed to look at him now.
βJesus christ, Joel. Plenty of women your age in there already.β
Your heart thuds at that, but Joel doesnβt add up. He says, louder this time. βGet the fuck inside,β his thrusts growing sharper.
Tommy hesitates, glances at you, then back at Joel. Whatever he sees in his brotherβs eyes makes him step back. He doesnβt say another word. Just turns and disappears through the door.
Joel slows down his hips, one hand coming at your hair gently stroking it back.
βDonβt get all embarrassed on me now, baby,β he murmurs, βHe saw what he saw. That donβt change shit. Youβre still mineβ
Your breathing starts to even out, focusing on the stroking of your hair. And one part of you likes it. Likes it the way Joel shows you off and can finally call you βmineβ in front of everyone.
One part even likes the part where Tommy caught you two.
βTheyβll judge us,β you whisper weakly.
βYou think I care? I could drag you back to the bar, like this, and show them myself.β
Joel feels the way you clench around his cock as he says that and smirks to himself. He knows his girl, his girlβs perverted mind and her fantasies. He knows there isnβt anything thatβs going to stop her from getting wet for his cock.
βThere we go, sβwhat I thought,β he says, his thrusts now picking up again. βNow, let me get whatβs mine.β
I didnβt proofread this so sorry guysπ I hope you like this anon!
If you like to be tagged on my fics, write your username right here!
βΊ joel checks the lengths of your skirts. thereβs no leaving the house without him making you stand up straight with your arms at your sides. if the material doesnβt go past your fingertips, you can bet your ass you have to change
βΊ he teases you whenever he can. at home, in public, in front of other people β he doesnβt care. a wandering hand between your thighs, a stolen kiss on your neck or a whisper that makes your face heat up. anything to get a reaction out of you, especially if it makes you shift your thighs closer together
βΊ if youβve been bratty, he will not kiss you. even once heβs spanked the attitude out of you, leaving behind a trembling, crying mess, he wonβt give in, no matter how much you plead or apologise
βΊ he likes to make you beg. cupping your mound, applying just a hint of pressure for what feels like hours. making you sit on his thigh and slowly dragging you up and down the length of it but never giving you the speed you needed. even spread out before him, heβll edge you until you think release is on the horizon only to pull away at the last minute
βΊ this man goes crazy for overstim. heβll have you laid out in front of him, eating you out and pumping his thick fingers in and out of you until your thighs clench together, locking his hand in place. a condescending βtskβ and his strong hands are already prying you open again
βΊ god, he loves your tears. whether it stems from edging or overstimulating, heβll coo at you. βpathetic little babydoll, hm?β heβll put on that texas drawl that makes you drip when he talks down on you
βΊ this man is a munch. but god, he loves your throat a little too much. down on your knees is one of the most beautiful positions for him. heβll have you keep up eyecontact, his fingers set on your jaw to keep your gaze on him while he sinks inch after inch into you. he bullies the back of your throat with his tip until you swallow him down, then buries himself to the hilt until you canβt breathe and then some
βΊ he loves doggy. especially when heβs standing at the edge of the bed, pounding into you. the bed creaks as much as his knees but he canβt hear either while he pushes your head into the pillows to muffle your whines. the only thing better than that is when he forces your entire upper body into an upright position as he keeps fucking into you while his arm locks around your throat
hereβs a little joel miller x reader drabble about pda that i wrote while thinking about how at his very core, joel miller is just a big ole softy!
after getting his first taste of the way your body felt in his hands, joel couldnβt get enough of you. heβd never been big on pda but for some reason he found himself constantly aching to have his hands on you. anytime you were around he was like a moth to a flame; brushing his hands against your lower back or carefully snaking an arm around your waist when as you stood beside him. there was just something about you that had him straying from his usual apprehension of physical touch. perhaps it was the way his body burned when you were in the room, ignited by the overwhelming need to protect you. all he wanted was to feel your warm presence next to him, safe and sound. he couldnβt help but draw you as close to him as possible, his rough calloused hands guiding you until you melted into his side.
the way he was always hovering next to you drew quite a bit of attention, but he couldnβt give less of a shit what anyone thought about a girl like you being touched by an older man like him. he was too busy engulfed in the gentle feeling of your skin against his. in fact, his pride would swell when he caught the look on people's faces as your delicate fingers intertwined with the roughness of his. he would try not to grow smug when someone watched you smile up at him like he'd hung the moon. he liked the way your relationship made him feel excited about something for the first time in a long time. he would let his tough guy act fall to the side from time to time just to watch you swoon over his touch.
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A road trip through the desert with Joel // βI would stay up late with him just for a glimpse of his warmth. Maybe he would reach for my knee in a moment when he forgot himself. These tepid changes, few and far between, always felt like victory.β
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
dude in the other side of the confessional, smoothing back his more salt than pepper hair, tugging at his collar, breaking into a slight nervous sweat that highlights his crows feet and laugh lines: Is that so?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming