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Karl Urban as Billy Butcher in The Boys (since 2019)

if i look back, i am lost
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
Peter Solarz

pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith

â

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
Not today Justin


blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
occasionally subtle

â
trying on a metaphor
Cosimo Galluzzi

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia

seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Finland
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
@roseflorablack
tiktok keeps muting my edits đđ
Karl Urban as Billy Butcher in The Boys (since 2019)

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If You Lie Down With Me
pairing: (pre-ellie) dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader
summary: thereâs only one guy in all of boston that can get you a morning after pill. unfortunately, on top of being a huge asshole, Joel Miller also happens to be your dadâs closest peer.
warnings: rough sex / smut (masturbation, fem penetration, oral [m receiving]) so 18+ only content; unprotected sex; light choking & restraint; light dom/sub dynamic; fem afab reader; reader has long-ish hair (that gets touched); plot-typical violence (guns, death); plot deviations (no Tess); medication ingestion; pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel); dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance, no explicit consent).
word count: 6.5k+
no use of y/n in this fic
alright yâall Iâm baaaaAAAaack! so this is basically the other version of Dark But Just a Game that I started back when I was writing it & figured Iâd finish it to get out of my hiatus. like any devilmademewriteit fic, itâs dark and nasty and deprived like meeeeeee <3 hope u enjoy !
donât forget to reblog, check out my masterlist, sign up for the taglist, & leave any comments / feedback / & suggestions!
(ps: new part of Salvatore up next !)
â
âthree times the guy I ever thought I would meet, so don't say you're over me when we both know that you lieâ
â lana del rey, âIf You Lie Down With Meâ
â
Fuck.
Waking up to a racing heart, a pounding head, and a stomach swimming with nausea was never ideal, although it was always a better experience alone â when you could squint and hiss at the light slicing through the weaknesses in the drapes without hearing your groans echoed by a lower, louder, and annoyingly more pitiful voice.
Right. What was his name?
Jared? Jordan? Jermaine?
Ah, who cares.
If heâd wanted a safe place to nurse his hangover, he shouldnât have fallen asleep in your bed. Sure, the odds of dad being conscious at this hour (especially the odds after a party like last nightâs) were Kate Moss â no, Rolling Stones â slim, but the man would get up at some point, meaning that this poor J-whatever was likely sleeping through his only window of escape from certain homicide.
You whisper. You shake him gently. You gingerly tap the roundness of his bicep.
Huh â Not bad.
You congratulate last-night-you for reeling in this morningâs good-looking catch.
Still⊠nothing. Not a twitch. Nary a croaked âlemmesleepâ graces your ears.
After loosing an exasperated sigh and running through your options, you decide to take the most effective (and least girl-next-door) route. The corner of your elbow collides with his ribs, and the boy jumps up, his loose, blonde curls as wild as his eyes, searching the room for his attacker.
You want to smile at the scene, but the motion hurts your head.
âYâgotta go,â you croak out, thumbs rubbing circles against your aching temples.
He collapses onto his back, copying your movement with his own fingers to his brow. âGod. I feel like shit.â
Despite muttering your agreement, you let your eyelashes flutter closed and your weight turn you away from last nightâs paramour: no use figuring out who he is after the (f)act â that just makes it personal.
After a few breaths, the boy moves back up to a shakey sitting position.
Probably sourcing for his clothes.
He reeks of booze and sex â but then again, so do you. His roughened, unfamiliar tenor climbs to barely above a whisper, âZâsomething stuck on my leg⊠blood, or somethingâŠâ
His interrupting your suffering comes as a deeply unwelcome annoyance, so you try to sort him out to clear him out: âProlly just the condom,â you mumble, rolling back onto your shoulders, reluctantly supervising his movements.
He lifts up fully, sitting criss-cross and pulling his calf towards him.
âNo,â he tries to laugh but succumbs to the nausea, settling for a low breath instead, âSâblood, dude, from beer darts â and I didnât use a condom.â

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Letterman Jacket
Javier Peña x F!Reader oneshot
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: Tensions come to a head between you and Javier on the private jet back to BogotĂĄ after a long, frustrating day. Or rather - after six long, frustrating years of bad blood.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: My first PW(much)P, enemies to lovers, arguing, swearing, drinking, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, thigh riding, no use of Y/N, soft!Javier
Notes: After obsessing over this damn jacket forever, I finally pulled the trigger. This is my first ever Javier, and I know heâs not perfect, but my 2023 resolution is to not overthink things, and I had a blast writing this in a couple of days since the idea came to me. Iâm so nervous posting this, but excited to have finally made a start with Javier. Please be gentle with me â€ïž
P.S. Iâm going on my honeymoon the next 2 weeks. Iâm sure Iâll be lurking around, and I also have new content all queued up for @fuckyeahpedropascal! See you!
eye contact with someone you find attractive is so ungodly like you have no idea what you've done to me you bastard

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Playing Dangerous
part 2 of Salvatore
pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader
summary: sure, the fact that heâd schemed up an entire, elaborate ruse to get between your legs was upsetting. more upsetting was the fact that he refused to fess up, insisting that you needed to be protected (or at the very leastâcautious) because your life was in âgrave danger.â most upsetting, however? that would be the fact that through it all and above everything else, you still wanted himâbadly.
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, oral [m receiving]) so 18+ only content; afab fem reader; mentions of reader having long hair; bratty!reader; brat-tamer!javi; alcohol consumption; smoking; pet names (baby, sweetheart, cariño, hermosa); some angst; dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance, age gap).
word count: 10.7k (sorry again)
no use of y/n in this fic
hello here is part twooooo! thank you for all the love on Salvatore I absolutely love all of you so much. you don't rly need to read p1 to enjoy this, just know that: reader is the ambassador's secretary and is an asshole, Javi is also an asshole, they fucked for the first time a few days ago b/c he took her home after someone seemed to be after her life.
donât forget to join the taglist if youâre nasty; feedback, asks, comments, smoke signals and carrier pigeons always welcome. kisses. -em<3
â
read part 3, Dark Paradise, here.
â
Letâs get in the back of your cop car, officer! - Playing Dangerous
âI am not speaking to you.â
Murphyâs eyes come alive with exasperation, a striking shift from their usual half-asleep, perpetually vacant gawp. Not quite at the point of impatience yet, his voice is soft when he responds.
âPlease.â
You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. An impassive sneer makes its way onto your expression.
Not a fucking chance.
Not only were you not planning on ever doing Steve Murphyâand especially, his asshole partnerâeven the smallest of favours throughout your remaining time on this godforsaken planet, youâd come to the conclusion (quite recently, in fact) that youâd rather dance barefoot on broken glass than be in the same room as either member of the pair.
And it was a shame, really.
After that (now regrettable, once incredible) night at Peñaâs place, everything had been fine.
More than fine. Not even awkward.
For a glorious moment, waking up next to him, ruined and sore and bruised and satisfied, sharing a morning coffee and then a ride to workâpeace (and the planted seeds of something else, too) had finally settled across the worn-in battlegrounds between you, solid roots spreading with each passing second spent not bickering. For crying out loud, when heâd gotten called away to BogotĂĄ that very same day, youâd put yourself to work keeping his place clean, going so far as to anticipate his return.
Everything had been fine.
Until, of course, youâd gotten the old Chevy serviced.
Salvatore
pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader
summary: a secretary with an attitude problem, a DEA agent with an insolence problem. years ago, youâd stopped hoping for his character to improve, but heâs still gunning to set you straight. itâs the worst day of your life, and javier peña aims to take advantage of that.
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, oral [m receiving]) so 18+ only content, fem afab reader, mentions of reader having long hair, bratty!reader, brat-tamer!javi, alcohol consumption, smoking, pet names, (so much smoking, Iâm sorry but itâs narcos), dubcon (slight intoxication, coercion if you really, really squint)
beta reader: @millllenniawrites thatâs BABIE
word count: 10.3k (imsosorry)
no use of y/n in this fic
hey yâall ! i said i had a longer javi fic in store and i was not kidding lmfao !!! slight warning, the reader is a bit of an asshole so teaaaaa. anyhow, donât forget to join the taglist if youâre nasty, and feedback & comments are always welcome mwah mwah -em<3
PS: to my non-canadian readers, a dart is a cigarette lmao
â
Read Part 2: Playing Dangerous
â
Nothing ever went to plan with Peña around.
It was a curse. A nightmare. You were so careful with your agenda, making sure meetings with the ambassador happened on time, every time, and uninterrupted. When that didnât happen? It was your ass on the line. And when that didnât happen? It was always because of agent Peña.
âI canât let you in, right now,â you hiss, tired of repeating yourself. âShe specifically told me not to let people in. Not to let you in,â you add, pointing a finger at his chest.
âAw, câmon,â Peñaâs murmured supplication rolls off his tongue, âItâs real important.â
You huff indignantly. Keeping your voice low, you retort, âEvery time itâs life or death, Peñaââ
âWhy donât you ever call me Javier, sweetheart?â A playful twinkle dances in his twilit eyes. âYouâve known me longer than any of the other girls Iâm on a first name basis with, here.â
It was true. Youâd been working at the embassy for ages, now, babysitting big-headed politicians or power-drunk DEA agents and soldiers. Peña was the worst of them all, solely in virtue of the fact that he knew he could get away with everything. Men loved him because he was tough, charismatic, and capable; women loved him because he was tough, charismatic, capable, and looked like a vintage pornstar. It only took you a month at the job to grow violently sick of hearing his name cherished on the lips of your female coworkers, forced to listen to the gorey details of nearly every. single. office. conquest.
But that wasnât even the worst of it.
The worst mightâve been when his âinformantsâ called, their mewling voices asking to leave a message for âJavi.â Or, it mightâve been the culminating effect of his reaping the rewards, time after time, for his insolence, gaining respect, praise, pussyâand all because he never fucking listened.
Years came and went, and somewhere down the line youâd accepted that Javier Peña was simply destined to be a lifelong affliction.
Weiterlesen
Luxury
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: E (18+ minors get gone)
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings/tags: smut, pwp, shower sex, unprotected piv, oral (m receiving because heâs clean now and he deserves it), tiny bit of choking, intimacy, repressed feelings
A/n: I didnât think Iâd ever write for Joel bc I am not watching the show (I know, I know but I am not mentally healthy enough to handle that lmao), however last night I had a dream⊠and well I had to write this. This is straight up porn so hopefully thereâs not enough characterization for me to get it totally wrong, but Iâve been following the show as much as I can so I think I have a tangential grasp of Joel. Apologies if heâs totally ooc though. If youâre waiting for Cross My Heart part two I promise itâs coming, I just needed to get this out of my brain to make room!
MASTERLIST TAGLIST
Luxury isnât something anyone expects in a world like this. Comfort and pleasure are desires that have long been forgotten, and just staying alive is a miracle in itself.
So when you find yourself in a home with hot, running water? Itâs like stepping into a palace.
After so long outside the QZ, the idea of having the abilityâ let alone the time and securityâ to feel clean, and maybe even relaxed, makes you a little more emotional than you care to admit.
Joel insists that Ellie take advantage of the shower first, mostly because of his chivalry and care for the girl, but also because he knows that when you two get your turn itâs going to take a lot longer.
Youâre not entirely sure when this thing, whatever it is, with Joel started. Neither of you have the capacity or energy for real emotions anymore, but you need each other in a way you canât deny. You tell yourself itâs just sex, a way to find release, but it doesnât seem that shallow sometimes.
You donât really have to know exactly what it is, though.
You give each other what you need and it helps you keep moving forward.
While Ellie showers you and Joel take stock of your supplies, making yourselves busy and preparing for the next part of your journey once you have to leave this oasis youâve found yourselves in.
As soon as Ellie yells down the hall that the shower is free, however, youâre both moving quickly toward the source of your moment of respite.
As the shower heats up, you and Joel make quick work of each otherâs clothes, kissing fiercely between each itemâs removal, and you canât help but admire the manâs body as itâs revealed to you.
Though at this point youâve had sex plenty of times, you donât often get the opportunity to fully undress, full nudity being far too vulnerable a state when you might have to run or fight at any moment.
But now, you get to run your hands along the planes of Joelâs chest and back, while he takes advantage of his access to your breasts.
Joel kisses and nips his way down your neck, eventually stooping to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking while you whimper above him.
He moves to the other side, but you know that the water must be hot by now and youâre aching to get inside, and get Joel inside of you.
You tug gently on his hair to get his face level with yours.
âJoel, pleaseâ you plead, unable to form many words beyond that.
He understands your request, âI got you, darlinââ whispered in your ear as he slides his hands under your thighs to lift you up against him and walk you into the shower.
You feel the hard length of him throbbing against your center, warm wetness practically dripping out of you in anticipation of getting him where you need him.
You both moan as the warm spray of water hits you, immediately relaxing your muscles and starting to soothe your frayed nerves.
Joel pushes you against the tiled wall, grinding against you as he continues kissing every part of you he can reach.
His hand makes its way around to your front, fingers tracing your clit and moving to slide into you.
As more of a whine than intended, you plead again for Joelâ âneed your cock now, please,â you beg him.
âGotta get you ready first, honeyâ he responds, and your heart lurches with some sort of emotion, knowing he wants to make you feel good, too. But you still canât wait any longer.
âMâready, just need youâ you slur into the junction between his neck and shoulder, the water and your desperation already turning your brain to mush.
Joel grunts, moving his hand back up to your face, gently grabbing your cheeks to get you to look at him.
âYou sure? I donât wanna hurt you.â
He looks at you sincerely and again you feel a pang of something in your chest, pushing it down to deal with another time.
âIâm sure, Joel, canât wait any longerâ you assure him, and he nods slightly.
He knows you were telling the truth as soon as he slides into you, meeting no resistance as your walls practically drag him all the way inside.
You gasp at the fullness, and Joel groans, biting your shoulder to keep himself quiet.
As he begins to move, he also begins talking, whispering filth into your ear and making you involuntarily clench around him.
âFuck baby, feel so good around me. Squeezinâ me so tight. So good for me.â
He snaps his hips, setting a brutal pace and turning your whimpers into moans.
Quickly Joelâs hand is over your mouth, his teeth bared as he tells you to keep quiet.
âDonât want Ellie hearinâ us, do you?â
You shake your head, and he continues.
âThink you can stay quiet? Keep those pretty sounds just for me?â
You nod, and Joel removes his hand from your mouth, instead moving down to your throat and squeezing ever so slightly.
His hand on your throat is new, and you immediately tighten around him and feel your orgasm approaching quickly.
âYou like that, huh baby? Like my hand around your pretty little neck?â
You can only whimper in response, eliciting another squeeze from him reminding you to stay quiet.
Sensing how close you are, Joel maintains his pace, but his thrusts become harder and he angles up, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
âJoelâ you gasp as you start to come undone, hands gripping him so tightly youâre sure youâre leaving marks.
âThatâs it darlinâ let go, cum around me, l-let me feel itâ fuckâ good girl.â
Joel works you through your high and follows quickly after, practically growling as he fills you.
You spend a few moments savoring the afterglow, Joel placing soft kisses on your lips and forehead as you both come down.
You quickly realize, however, that your time with the hot water is bound to come to an abrupt end, so you focus on actually getting cleaned.
You each wash yourselves on your own and you assume your moment of intimacy has ended, though Joel does gently run a washcloth between your legs, placing one last kiss to your cheek as he steps out.
You time your eventual exits strategically, trying to make it half-believable to Ellie that you had showered separately.
She sees right through you and you know it, but for now she keeps her comments to herself.
Later, when Ellie is finally asleep, you move from the chair you had claimed in the living room to stand in front of Joel on the couch, prompting him to look up at you with confusion.
Wordlessly, you sink to your knees in front of him.
Joel breathes out a fuck and runs a hand down his face, cock twitching in interest.
Sliding your hands up his thighs, you smirk.
âThereâs something Iâve been wanting to do for you.â
Taglist: @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80 @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedrostories
Waiting Game
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friendâs daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when heâs forced to share a motel room with you.
Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.
Part 2
âYou okay, hon? You soundâŠdistracted,â your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.
At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.
âYes!â you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father canât hear any of the filthy sounds down below, âJust a little stretchedâI mean stressed out, is all.â

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Headlines (Pedro Pascal x Reader)
summary: you and pedro had been close friends since the movie you shot together wrapped nearly a year ago. you decided to have game night with some friends at your apartment, but pedro stays behind after everyoneâs left. a little too much wine and pent up feelings lead to the moment youâve been fantasizing about for months.
wc: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT! 18+ age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex
MY MASTERLIST
playing house || j. miller
summary: youâre tired of playing house with Joel. youâre tired of pretending that you donât want something more from him than unspoken touches on nights when you both feel lonely. your body finally gives in to what you want, barely leaving room for your mind to follow.
warnings: alcohol, smut smut smut, drunkish sex, fingering, oral (fem ), unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, some angst, blood imagery, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, gross men, probably ooc joel, swearing, female reader, let me know if i missed any âcause i probably did
word count: 4k
A/N: i haven't written smut in like two yearsâŠletâs not discuss it. anyways, i played tlou like a year ago cause i saw an edit of joel miller and goddd. i fell in love w/ pedro as mando, so him as joel? unexpected surprise. love it.
here's my masterlist if you want to read more of my work!
Itâs hard to remember how it started.Â
You met him without hope. Life was reduced to surviving, and you knew that youâd never exist for pleasure again. You knew that everything you had hoped for, everything you had hoped to be, was washed away with everything else on that great September day.Â
You met him long after life had its way with both of you. Your flesh was painted with the whisper of knives on your skin. His was too, but the marks were accompanied by lines that came as easy as time, the colour driven from his hair an ever-present reminder of his loss.
You met him when his hands were covered in your blood. You had limped into the first place you could find free of infected. The wound in your thigh wept blood as you shut the door to the dingy house behind you. You fell into the closest wall for support, sliding down until you hit the ground. You tightened the makeshift tourniquet around your leg. Your pant leg was soaked with the dark liquid. The metallic smell of blood hung in the air around you. The humid air clung to your skin as it glistened with the effort your body was giving to try and keep you alive.
You were shivering, but it wasnât cold. Were you shivering? Or were you trembling? The pain rippled up your leg and through your body. Your spine felt like a saw cutting through your body. You couldnât think as straight as you needed to in this world. The only thing that kept bouncing around your brain was sleep sleep sleep.
You succumbed to the soft promises of rest as your mind lulled you into sleep. Deep sleep.
âJoel, come on! We canât just fucking leave her here. Sheâs still breathing.â
âShe could be bit, Ellie.â
âSheâs not! Sheâd be fucking tweaking by now and shit.â There was a faint pressure on your leg.Â
âEllie! What the fuck are you doing? Get off-â
âSheâs not bit, Joel, itâs from a gun. We canât just leave her to dieâŠâ
âWe donât even know her!â
âI donât care! Iâm tired of leaving people to die. Iâm tired of everyone dying. This is one person we can save.â
There was silence for a few seconds. You started falling into the remainder of sleep you clung to.Â
âMove over.â
Another pressure on your leg. Someone slipping the tourniquet off your leg. The sound of a blade cutting through fabric. Your eyes fluttered open. A burly man and a young girl sat in front of you. The girlâs hands were dripping with blood. His were on your leg, pressing, pressing, pressing.
âFuck,â he breathed. âSheâs lost a lot of blood. EllieâŠI donât know if we can-â
âStop,â you croaked out, your voice dry and rough, weaker than you intended it to be. You tried to push his hand away, but it was futile.Â
âGonna help you, honey. Relax. Not gonna hurt ya,â he said. His voice was gruff, a Southern accent lacing in his voice.
The presence of the girl reassured you. Surely, a man wouldnât kill you in front of his daughter, right? Besides, her supportive hand on your shoulder gave you some semblance of trust in them. You were too weak not to trust them.
âIâm Ellie. This is Joel,â she smiled and motioned at the man working on your leg. He grunted in response. Your name fell off your lips in a scratchy groan. She repeated it and smiled a reassuring smile.
Joel had your blood up to his elbows by the time he got the bullet out. Your screams from the searing, white-hot pain of him digging the bullet out of your leg had died and left your throat raw. Ellie let you sip from her canteen as Joel stitched you up with his First Aid kit. Slowly, your eyelids fell and your breath evened out again. Your body worked on building your energy back while Joel worked on closing up your wound, while Ellie worked on convincing Joel to let you go with them.Â
When you woke up, you would no longer be feverish, but youâd be frenzied, heart racing and palms sweating, shakily pointing your gun at Joel when he tried to check your wound for infection. Youâd remember what he did for you, and youâd put it down. Youâd apologize for freaking out. Youâd sit down to a âmealâ with him and Ellie. And youâd try not to think about the fact that you owed him your life.
Tension built for fourteen months. Youâd acted as if you stuck with the two for the reason you said you would the day that Joel saved you.
Where were you heading?
Nowhere, now. My family is gone. My friends are dead. Just me left.Â
It would be great to have another pair of hands to take care of that one, he said. She can be a handful sometimes.
You had just nodded and that was that. You have been with them ever since. Even when you made it to Jackson and settled down, the three of you settled into your own life together. Youâd grown to love Ellie, yes, and youâd protect her with your life. But was that it? Wasnât there some unspoken dedication you had to Joel, too?Â
Some nights, long after Ellie had gone to bed, the faint taste of old whiskey still on your tongue, you and Joel would find yourselves exploring each other, but never tasting more than each otherâs lips offered. Sometimes, if he was feeling brave, heâd glide his tongue down your neck, kissing down the column of your throat, but youâd always stop him from going further. What would it be like when you woke up in the morning? Would he regret it? Or would he only want you for your body after that? Surely he didnât feel the same way you did. Surely he had more resolve than you.
Surely it was obvious that there was no hope for the two of you. He only showed interest in you when the whiskey took over, his Southern drawl becoming drawn out and his jaw loosening.Â
Youâd keep playing house with Joel and Ellie until you found a good enough reason not to. Until you could pry yourself away from the man who dragged you out of deathâs grip.
A wedding in the apocalypse was fucking ridiculous. Two years ago, you wouldâve started laughing hysterically when you were handed a wedding invitation.Â
But here you were. Some couple in Jackson decided to get hitched, and Tommy and Maria were just fine with having a huge wedding for them.Â
Jackson had developed some sort of an economy, so you bought a dress off of a sweet old seamstress a few houses over. It was a nice piece in your favourite colour. It was nice to be able to think about your favourite colour again.
The wedding was in a park. It was a nice, peaceful afternoon. The reception was at Jacksonâs most functionable bar, the same bar that you and Joel frequently found yourself at after patrol shifts. Ellie was off somewhere with the other kids in Jackson.
Old country music filled the air from a radio behind the bar. You sat on the barstools with Maria, talking about supply, patrol, the wedding, anything, everything. You were a few drinks in by now, swaying slightly to the music, less tense, content.Â
âSo, howâs Joel?â Maria said with a scheming grin and raised eyebrows.
âTo hell if I know,â you huffed, downing your drink and flagging the bartender for another one.Â
âOh, come on. Donât tell me there isnât something between you two.â
âThereâs nothing between us two. Hear that?â you said, glaring at her. She hummed, as if to say sure thereâs not.
âIf itâs a matter of age, I think that flew out the window when people started biting each other-â
âGod, Maria. Drop it, okay? Heâs not into me. Thereâs nothing there,â you said, staring into your drink.Â
âYou really donât see it? The way he looks at you?â You glared. âOkay, Iâll stop. But for the record, there is someone whoâs all over you right now,â she grinned and gestured to a guy at the other end of the bar. You groaned and turned back to Maria.Â
âYeah, heâs been all over me since I fucking got here,â you said as you sipped your drink. She laughed and wished you goodluck. She wanted to go find Tommy.Â
You silently cursed yourself as the guy from the end of the bar moved to slide right into Mariaâs old spot.Â
âHey, pretty lady. Can I get you a drink?â He said with a smile on his face dripping with condescension.
âGot one,â you said, raising your drink back to your lips.
âA second, then?â
âIâve already had my second. And my third. Iâm good, thanks,â you said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You hoped that would be the end of it.
âGod, youâre feisty, huh?â He chuckled, finishing his own drink. âGood thing I like them that way.â His arm snaked around your waste. It made your skin crawl. You stood, trying to ignore the way you swayed back and forth.
âLook, buddy, Iâm not interested. Fuck off.â
âOh, come on, honey. Donât be such a bitch,â he grinned, standing to wrap his arms around you.
You began to push him off, but he was torn from you and pushed into the bar instead.Â
âYou heard the woman. Fuck off.â Joel. How the fuck did he get there so fast?
âShe yours?â The man said, pointing at you. He laughed. âYou can have her. A piece like that has probably slept with half of Jacksonâs population. Fuckinâ bitch,â he growled, attempting to push past Joel.
âThe fuck did you just say?â
âYou heard me.â In seconds, the man was on the floor, cradling his jaw.Â
âWhat the fuck, man?â He whined.
âGet out.â Joel growled.
He scampered out of the bar, but not without a youâre fucking crazy.
Joelâs jaw was tense. Tenser than it has been in a while. He looked at you.
âYou okay?â He said, voice softening.
âIâm fine, Joel,â you said, trying to push past him. He grabbed you by the shoulders and stopped you.
âWoah, whatâs got you mad at me, darlinâ?â Darling. Him and his fucking names. If only he could feel the effect it had.
âI can take care of my fucking self. And stop calling me that,â you seethed, finally pushing past him.
âOh, come on,â he called your name, following you out of the bar.Â
Once outside, the fresh air helped you to sober up a little. The sky was darkening, streaked with a palette of oranges and pinks. You looked at your shoes and crossed your arms as Joel appeared beside you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
âYou gonna tell me whatâs wrong?â He broke the silence. His voice was softer than normal, but it didnât lack the gravel it usually has. You turned your face away from him. He moved to stand in front of you. His fingers found your chin, turning it to face him. âHm?â Blush crept up your neck and to your cheeks. You pulled away from him.
âIâm fine. Itâs nothing.â
âYouâre not very convincing, honey,â he said, crossing his arms, eyes searching for yours.
âDonât call me that. YouâŠâ
âI what?â
âYou canât say things like that,â you said, finally looking at him.
He took a step closer to you. You could feel his breath on your cheek. He smelled like whiskey and pine. Your breath caught in your throat.
âWhy not, darlinâ?â His voice was low, emphasizing the name.
You huffed out. ââCause itâs not fair. You canât just go around calling me things like that with no weight behind it. Gives me the wrong idea.â
âAnd what idea might that be?â
That he cares. That he cares more for you than just what he shows you in the moments when your lips are on his. When heâs lonely. When heâs drunk. That he might be yours.
âForget it,â you shake your head.
âTell me,â he demands. âTell me what I do to you.â
You shove him away from you. âDonât fucking do that, Joel. Not again. Iâm tired of it.â
He looked like a kicked puppy. Joel Miller, rejected? By you?Â
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the adrenaline of having him this close to you. You kept going. âIâm tired of playing house and acting like I donât want more.â
His brows furrowed, but his eyes told you to go on.
âIâm tired of acting like I donât want you.â
The words hung in the air between you two. His lips parted and his gaze softened.
âAnd I know what youâre gonna say. Youâre gonna sugarcoat it, but Iâm begging you to just put me out of my misery. Just tell me you donât want me so I can move on,â you breathed, that familiar feeling gathering in your chest and in your throat.
He cocked his head to the side. âShow me.â
âWhat? Joel-â
âShow me how much you want me.â Oh. Fuck.Â
To stop yourself from thinking about it any longer, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into you. He caged you between his arms on the wall behind you. You could almost taste him, your breath mixing with his. Your chest heaved.Â
You brushed your lips over his, barely touching.Â
âQuit teasinââ he growled. Fisting the collar of his shirt once more, you pulled him forward, connecting your lips with his. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, feverish and needy. It was the destruction of the dam that youâd both built over months. And it felt good.Â
His hands moved to your hips, pulling you in close. You tugged on the greying hair at the base of his neck with one hand and ran your hand over the scratchy hair on his jaw with the other. He groaned. âLetâs go home, pretty girl.â He grabbed your hand and started leading you in the direction of your house. âCanât do the things I wanna do to you outside of a bar.â
Joel broke from your mouth to throw you down on the bed. Then he was right back on you. He crawled on top of you, caging you underneath him. He kissed you like he was hungry, like he thought you would get away. You moaned into the kiss.Â
He slotted his thigh between your legs, the skirt of your dress riding up. Slowly, you began to grind on his thigh. Joel pulled away from the kiss. âNeedy thing, arenât you?â He said as he began sucking marks into your neck and chest. He pushed the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he had more flesh to lay his claim on. Sometimes heâd bite gently, then lick over it to soothe it. His hand ghosted over your breast, looking up to ask for permission. You nodded fervently.
âWords, honey. Gonna need words.â
âYes, Joel. Do it. Do anything you want to me,â you said, just above a whisper. He groaned at the admission. He grabbed the fabric at your chest and pulled it down, past your tits. He palmed one, playing with the hardened bud, while his tongue drew circles on the other, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple. You were still grinding on his thigh as he sucked marks across your chest. It wasnât enough, the heat in your core was spreading, but it wasnât high enough. You needed more.
You whimpered, âNeed more.â
Joel released your tit. âNeed what, baby? Use your words.â
âNeed you. I need you to do something. Itâs not enough.â
He hummed. âAnd what do you want me to do, sweetheart? Tell me where you want me. Donât get shy on me now.â
âI want you inside of me. Want your cock,â you blushed. He smirked. His hand travelled down, down, down, until he was cupping your heat.Â
âHere?â You nodded. âHmm, thatâs not gonna do, pretty girl. Gotta get you ready for me first. Donât think you can take me just yet.â
âI can,â you argued, but he wouldnât relent. He slid his shirt off instead. His chest and torso was littered with scars, proof of a heavy life. Proof that he was tired. Proof that he just wanted to lay down with someone instead of fighting. His position between your legs proof that he wanted to lay down with you.
âDonât wanna hurt ya,â he said, his voice soft. His thumb traced the scar on your bare leg. âYouâve been hurt enough.â At that, he kissed you. But this was soft. Softer than any other kiss youâve shared. It was passionate, but it wasnât fueled by passion. It was fueled by something unspoken. Something new. Something blossoming.
When he pulled away, he kissed down your body, down your neck, down the valley of your chest, pulling your dress completely off to kiss down your stomach, all the way down, stopping at your core. He looked up at you, again, silently begging for permission.Â
âPlease, Joel. I need you,â the heat seared in your centre, dripping from you. He hooked his fingers inside your panties and pulled them down your legs. You didnât miss the way he tucked them in his back pocket.
Joel ran his ring finger through your folds, collecting your juices. âYouâre fucking dripping, sweetheart. All of this is for me?â You whimpered a yes.
He grinned before flattening his tongue and licking a broad stripe up your pussy. As he lapped at your folds, the sounds you made were obscene. Nobody had ever made you feel this good. His tongue was like a blessing. He lit every nerve in your body on fire with just his touch. His hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs as he ate you out.Â
âIâm so close. So close. Please,â you moaned. Your hands found his head, pulling gently at his hair, making him groan into your core. He likes that. Noted.
The pressure was building in your core. The heat was scorching, running through your body, trickling down every inch of you. When he added a finger inside you (or two, you were too close to tell), the coil finally snapped, and you swear you died and he revived you. Flashes of white seared in your vision, your throat raw from the noises you were making for him. All for him.Â
When you finally came down, you were panting. Noticing the way you started to squirm out of sensitivity, Joel ceased his ministrations on your clit. He pulled his fingers from your hole and brought them to his lips, licking your juices from his digits. You moaned at the sight.Â
You pulled him up to your lips. He knew you could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought made him harder, if that was even possible. It was now that you noticed the tent between his legs. You palmed him through his jeans, eliciting a groan from him.Â
âMy turn,â you said, undoing his belt. His hand on your wrist stopped you.
âNot tonight, honey. Wanna be inside you.â You nodded your head and let him undo his belt. He tossed it to the side with his pants and boxers. His length stood from between his legs. Youâve wanted him so bad for so long, but you never couldâve imagined how big heâd be. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight. He chuckled as he observed you staring, mouth agape.Â
He took in the sight of you, laying, spread all pretty for him, clenching around nothing. Your slick and his saliva smeared between your thighs, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, a light sweat coating your skin. Fucked out. His hands explored your body, rubbing your soft flesh and pressing kisses across the expanse of your skin. âSo beautiful. My pretty girl.âÂ
His?
Joelâs mouth found yours once more. He rubbed himself across your folds to collect your slick. You squirmed. âNow whoâs teasing?â you said, exasperated. He chuckled and lined himself up with your entrance.Â
He paused before pushing in. âTell me something, honey. Tell me youâre mine,â he said. There was something different in his voice, something new. Or maybe it had just gone undetected for so long.Â
âIâm yours, Joel,â you said, barely above a whisper. âAlways yours. Always have been.â
With that, Joel slowly pushed into you. When he bottomed out, you both moaned. âFuck,â he groaned. Hands planted firmly on your hips, he pulled out and pushed back in again, harder this time, at a spearing pace.Â
He was setting a brutal pace, tightening the coil in your centre tighter and tighter. His hand travelled down to circle your clit. Still sensitive from before, your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, making you clench on Joelâs cock. âFuck, baby. Gonna milk me.â
Your legs were shaking now, you were past the point of comprehension. âPoor girl. âM fucking you dumb, hey?â Joel groaned. âGive me another one. Câmon, I know you can, pretty girl.â
âAnything. Anything for you,â you whined. Your orgasm neared fast, and you began to feel his thrusts falter with his impending release. âCum inside of me. I want it,â you begged.
Joel groaned. âFuck, honey. Gonna fill you up, sweet girl. Youâd like that, huh? Fuck a baby into you? Fuck. Gonna be the death of me.â
His pace quickened, became more needy. Your orgasm hit you for the third time, Joel leaving your cunt ablaze, every nerve in your body on fire. Joel kissed you through your orgasm, finally spilling into you, moaning into your mouth as he came, filling your head, your heart, and your cunt with him him him.
He pulled away from you to catch his breath, but pecked small kisses on your lips and around your face between breaths. Your chests heaved.
You found yourself wrapped up in him under the blanket, drifting to sleep. Your bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You laid in his arms in the dark, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily under your cheek, wondering what the morning would bring you. Wondering who you would be when you woke up. Would you wake up next to him? Did he mean anything he said?
You woke the next morning to the sun streaming in through the windows. The rays kissed your skin, dancing over the marks left by your lover. Your lover? Was he your lover?
You reached to the spot where he should be sleeping next to you. Your heart dropped a little when you felt the lack of his presence, fingers brushing over the-still warm bed sheet. You had let yourself believe that whatever last night was had been real. That he felt the same way you did. That you were really his. That he was yours. Maybe you woke as different people than you were last night.Â
You roll onto your back and scold yourself for being so naive, when you hear soft, deep humming coming from the hallway, getting louder the closer it gets. Joel.
Your eyes open as he enters the bedroom, holding two cups.Â
âCoffee,â he says gently, handing you one cup and sitting on the edge of the bed with his in his large hand. Thereâs something different about him today. Maybe itâs a different air. Or maybe itâs the gentle smile on his face as his eyes meet his marks on your neck and chest. Maybe itâs the lack of a crease between his brows this morning. He looks content.
You grin, blushing as you sit up, looking down at your coffee, shaking your head at yourself.Â
âWhatâre you worryinâ that pretty head of yours about?â
You give a curt laugh. âNothinâ. Itâs stupid.â
âNothinâ you think it stupid, pretty girl,â he says with a smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âTell me.â
âI just thought youâd left. Regretted last night or something.â
He chuckled lightly. âHey, âm not goinâ anywhere anytime soon, got that?â You nodded. âI already told you. Youâre mine, honey.â
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