evans55

[evans55]

im in Austin right now aka I’m LITERALLY in a pre outbreak Joel miller fanfiction.

#joel miller x male reader #joel miller #joel miller x gn reader #austin texas

[evans55]

October 19, 2023 - Austin, Texas Source: Dan Istitene/Getty Images

[evans55]

you ever read a fanfic and just sit back and think…someone wrote something THIS good… and then just….published it on the internet….for free…..

[evans55]

thinking about how the world would be better if more people understood the differences between 'the author failed to tell the story they wanted to tell' and 'the author told the story they wanted to tell, but they told it badly' and 'the author told the story they wanted to, and they told it well, but it wasn't the story I wanted to read'

[evans55]

this could be the anxiety-induced depression talking, but: if you’re wandering aimlessly unsure what you’re doing—you’re not alone. if you feel like you’re surrounded by people, shouting and screaming, but no one can hear you, and you feel so alone, i promise, it’s going to be okay. if you’re staring at an empty document, the curser blinking and blinking, feeling like you can’t write, like you’re broken, I promise you’re not—and there’s always tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that where words might flow. and if you’re thinking you’re a fraud, like a massive imposter—like you’re being weighed down by rocks, sheets and your own expectation—it’s okay, I am too. while I’m not sure if any of that brings any comfort, I hope it does. because you’re not alone, and neither am I. and sometimes, we just need to hear that, and be told that if the best we can do is take an hour at a time, a day, a week that is very much okay. and sometimes, just admitting that it’s not okay, is also okay. okay? 🩷🫂

[evans55]

Grayscale study w/ added braids

[evans55]

Trigun

[evans55]

WAAAAAH 😭😭😭😭😭😭

So good 🤒🤒🤒🤒

dream a little dream of me | j. miller

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

summary: joel finds you slow dancing alone.

warnings: sfw, very veeeery slight angst, mostly fluffy, hints at depressed reader, joel is a lil nervous, mentions of ellie, takes place during the outbreak/events of tlou and is vague about which part, reader sleeps in one tent and joel + ellie sleep in another, barely proofread :|

wc: 2k

joel tossed and turned on his small makeshift cot, growing irritated at his inability to sleep. hours had passed by and every time he came close to the brink of unconsciousness he was ripped away by the muffled, but unmistakable sound of that stupid song.

he was no stranger to insomnia, decades of his life passing by too slowly because of endless sleepless nights, but it was different now. sleep wasn’t a luxury he longed for, or something he liked- it hadn’t been for twenty years- but it was a necessity he required himself to achieve. he needed at least a few hours to be able to stay alert and capable of protecting ellie. he had come to understand that if he wanted to make himself better for the kid, it was one of the things he’d just have to do. nightmares and anxiety over being ambushed at night became simply an occupational hazard.

he’d learned to tune out the sounds of harmless sounds of nature, but this sound, this song, came from you- and that was what bothered him. your selfishness, your unawareness of how your radio might be bothering him or ellie.

stars shining bright above you…

you had been traveling with joel and ellie for weeks, since the beginning of winter, and at night you slept on the other side of their makeshift tent. when they found you, you had been carrying nothing but your little radio. it was broken, and played only one song over and over and over again.

you only turned it on at night, when you thought joel and ellie were asleep. you didn’t know that the song had been keeping up joel night after night. when he first noticed it, he turned to look at ellie to see if she was annoyed too- but the kid was fast asleep, her expression completely relaxed and blissful. she seemed to like the song. so for days, joel let it go.

but you had been getting on his nerves lately. today had been rough, running into raiders and more trouble than usual and you had refused to let go of your radio when it would’ve made running easier. and to make matters worse, ellie always seemed to side with you, and she had offered to share her pack with you to make carrying around the radio easier.

so when night fell and, like clockwork, the song distantly started to play from outside, joel grumbled under his breath and stomped his way outside to your tent. he was ready to rip open the thin fabric and tell you to turn that damn thing off, but something stopped him in his tracks.

a flap of your tent was already open- barely, but enough for joel to make out the sight of you illuminated by the dwindling firelight outside. the music was louder now that he was closer, of poor and muffled quality.

you were standing, your arms encircled around your- ellie’s- backpack and gently swaying in a circle as if you were slow dancing. slow dancing… with a backpack.

it took joel several seconds to try to make sense of what he was seeing, but he knew it made his heart ache in a strange way. your eyes were closed, lips softly mouthing along to the lyrics. you were hugging the backpack rather tightly, but your hands were shaking as your fingers traced the back of the bag in nonsensical, soothing patterns. you stayed silent during louis armstrong’s part of the song. he wasn’t an idiot, and he was certainly no stranger to loneliness, but he wasn’t used to seeing it this glaringly on someone else before. it reminded him of his own months of denial after sarah’s death, when he woke up in the mornings and mistook the pillow under his blanket next to him for her sleeping figure, thinking she had crawled in bed scared next to him during the night after a nightmare like she always used to.

joel inched closer, and could hear your hoarse voice singing along to ella fitzgerald’s part, barely above a whisper. the firelight shone against your expression, and joel felt a painful twinge in his chest and he realized your cheek was shining with a tear. his eyes jerked away from your face as if the sight burned him, and let his gaze wander down your body.

you handled the backpack in your arms oh so delicately, as if you were lulling it to sleep. joel couldn’t help but be reminded of how touch starved he was, longing to feel your gentle fingers scratching his back like you were to the bag and to heat up your probably cold body against his warm one. your head would tuck against his chest, and he would rest his chin atop your hair as he swayed along you. he would sing louis’ parts of the song, and as you sang ella’s you wouldn’t be crying, you’d be smiling.

joel jolted as the song restarted. but you didn’t move, and he wondered how many times you let the song play before you fell asleep.

backing away, he felt guilt wash over him after watching you in such a vulnerable moment for what felt like such a long time. he retreated to his cot feeling like a dead man walking, and kissed goodbye any chance of sleep for the rest of the night. he saw your pained face every time he squeezed his eyes shut, and he swore he could see your swaying figure in the shadows when he opened them.

in the morning, he paid closer attention to you. you didn’t act any differently, but the same way you had since he and ellie found you. quiet, but encouraging. enthusiastic with ellie, talking with her about endless hypothetical scenarios and pestering joel with stupid “would you rather”s and dumb puns that they’d worked on all day to come up with. there was no trace of the anguish he had seen in your face and your body language last night. he couldn’t help but admire your ability to hide it.

at night, when he heard the song, joel laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating everything. with a huff, he pushed himself up and made his way to you. the tent was closed all the way this time. he stood dumbly outside, torn between announcing himself before he walked in or to just enter. he cleared his throat as he decided on the former, but the music stopped before he even said anything.

the flap ripped open and suddenly you were standing just inches away from him.

“joel?”

his heart did the twinging thing again at the sound of your gentle, worn voice saying his name. you stared as he struggled to figure out what to say, his hand pressing itself to his chest to soothe the pattering of his heart. he watched as worry grew in your eyes.

“i’m sorry, was the radio bothering you? i can never tell when it’s too loud, i promise i’ll keep it down-”

“why’d you turn it off?” joel’s gruff voice interrupted you.

“oh, i… i heard you clear your throat or something outside and you startled me, i guess. do you.. need something?”

“no, nothin’, i just… i like that song,” joel mustered. not untrue.

“oh.”

you opened the flap wider, and beckoned for him to come in. the tent was small, and seemed to shrink even smaller with both of you inside. you switched the radio back on and awkwardly sat down as the lull of the song filled the silence between you two.

stars fading, but i linger on dear… still craving your kiss…

joel outstretched his hand to you, and you looked up at him, head tilted in confusion.

“dance with me?” joel quietly asked, searching for something in your eyes. you stared for a few more seconds in case you hallucinated his offer. unable to fight the smile growing on your face, you reached up and accepted his hand.

he pulled you up towards him, and his other hand very tentatively settled on your waist. the warmth of it almost shocked you, and you shivered a bit.

“cold?” he murmured, something indiscernible in his eyes. you nodded, settling your free hand on his shoulder. you bumped into him as you tried to figure out your place against him, and you let out an embarrassed laugh.

“sorry, it’s just… i thought i’d know how to do this by now,” your voice was bordering on a mumble, like you were scared to speak up and shatter the serenity of the scene.

“you’ve never danced with anyone before?” joel softly wondered, and you shook your head in return, unable to get rid of the embarrassed smile on your lips.

“well, i’m pretty rusty myself,” he admitted. “maybe we could learn together.”

you blinked rapidly, cursing yourself in your head at the tears in your eyes that threatened to fall. so you tucked your head against his chest in case your tear ducts betrayed you, not wanting to show that kind of weakness in front of joel.

his back minutely stiffened when you nestled closer to him, but he continued to sway softly before he removed a hand from your waist to softly, ever so softly grasp your face.

“hey.”

he pulled you back until he could make eye contact with you, and once he had your gaze trapped in his steely one, his thumb grazed your cheek almost subconsciously.

“you don’t need to hide from me.”

you swallowed, unable to come up with a response to this unfamiliar kind of comfort. you had been alone for so long. the feeling of joel’s warm body holding yours, his eyes determinedly locked on to you, and his voice so close to your ears almost overwhelmed you.

“’m gonna spin you now,” he murmured, and you didn’t fully process it before his arm outstretched and sure enough, he clumsily spun your body in a circle and you giggled out of surprise as you tried not to stumble. but you did as he pulled you back to his body, stepping on his toes, making you laugh harder.

his body was shaking slightly with his own silent laughter, mirth shining in his warm eyes.

“let me spin you now,” you said, standing on your tiptoes to prepare yourself.

“no-” joel’s voice took a stern tone, but you didn’t listen as you lifted your arm and started to twirl, forcing him to spin. it was even clumsier than yours, and laughter pealed from you at the sight.

“looks like you need a few lessons, miller,” you snickered as he raised his eyebrows in mock offense.

“oh yeah?” he challenged. without warning, he pressed your body closer to his before he whirled you into a dip. you nearly shrieked in surprise as he held you in the dip, his nose tickling yours until your laughter dwindled and his smile turned from amused to enraptured by the tenderness in your eyes. he seemed to realize how close the two of you were and he swiftly pulled you back up. you let out a breathless chuckle and your arms wound around his waist. you panted into his chest, catching your breath as joel hid his smile in your hair. your fingers began to lightly trace shapes on his back, and it seemed to soothe you just as much as it soothed him.

his eyes shuttered closed. it was so much like he imagined it would be. but nothing could have prepared him for the way your body felt pressed against his, or how soft your hair would be, or how the rhythm of your heartbeat synced up with his and filled in every other beat. he didn’t say anything as your movements slowed with obvious sleepiness. it wasn’t until you were asleep that he whispered your name, trying to unwind your arms from around his body, but your grip only seemed to get tighter.

so he laid down the both of you in your sleeping bag, and let you sleep on his chest as one hand settled your hair and other other smoothed up and down your back in calming movements. he tried his best to fight sleep for a little longer in case you woke up, but something about your presence made sleep inevitable.

and in the morning, when ellie shot up from bed to see joel was missing, she found him under you, arms curled around your waist as you laid sprawled atop his body like he was a pillow. ellie clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter before slowly backing away to her tent, already plotting how she could use this information against joel.

[evans55]

“fernando, mark is coming, act natural”

fernando:

[evans55]

PEDRO PASCAL First We Feast: Hot Ones

[evans55]

Ahahaha but Pat xD

*Aaron Rodgers gets hurts by Bill's defense*

*Patrick Mahomes tweets inmediately*

That's ok baby, don't worry, we still love you :3

Sorry, I need to take it light while knowing if Aaron's injury is serious ):

Also, X is getting hilarious with all the Jets tweets about the situation lol sorry!

[evans55]

strawberry margs (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual, yada yada.

happy belated labor day, y'all! tip your servers and thank your union reps.

(my union is on strike rn and, while it is ass, I'm very grateful for the people who are working hard to secure a better future for all of us. wga strong!)

summary: a totally normal labor day cookout with no big announcements whatsoever.

—————————————————————————

"Hey!" Pedro is slightly out of breath, flushed from the cocktail and the dry heat. Sometime in the fifteen minutes he's been gone inside the house, a tiny sombrero-on-a-headband has made its way onto his head. 

He plants a kiss on your temple, slinging an arm over your shoulder; the man gets a little possessive, after a couple drinks, but not in an unpleasant way. There's a pitcher of pre-mixed margaritas on the picnic table, and only a thin finger of the same drink left in his plastic cup. You squeeze the hand that now rests on your right shoulder. 

"Are you having fun?" 

Truthfully, yes. Parties usually aren't your vibe, and you'd been nervous about this one, for some reason. Had expressed as much to him, 

Oscar and Elvira usually host in the summer, the little patio attached to their apartment far surpassing anyone else’s outdoor space in the city. No reason at all to be nervous— you were just here, for the 4th of July, alone, kindly invited while Pedro was still filming in Morocco. (And oh, how the summer had changed.) Had been here almost every weekend since then, while things were shut down. 

But, this was the first party since… well. Since you’d put a ring on it, so-to-speak. 

The social etiquette of the whole thing has you flummoxed. Are you supposed to tell people? Is that annoying? Do you just not say anything? Wait for them to notice? Take the rings off and break up so you don’t have to do this at all? 

Ultimately, these are Pedro’s friends, so it’s been Pedro’s call. Not that you communicated that to him. Which might have been a mistake. Regardless, you’re deferring to him, despite the pit of stupid anxiety it left in your stomach leading up to the party. 

Not that you’re not proud of the ring, either. You couldn’t be fucking happier. Social anxiety is a tricky thing, apparently. (You might have way, way overthought all of this.) 

“Yeah,” you smile at Pedro, shaking cobwebs of shitty thoughts from your brain. “Yeah, this is lovely.” 

Another kiss, this one soft on your lips. He tastes a little fruity, some kinda flavored syrup in the margaritas. You’d accidentally opted for an IPA that tastes like ass, so you’re just carrying around the can as a prop. His fingers are sticky from something, you discover, as he licks them clean.

The arm around your shoulder steers you towards the long picnic table, around which most of the party is gathered: the hosts, and a few extended family members you’ve definitely been introduced to, before. Sarah is here, with Holland, which is a nice surprise. The kids are deep into a game of corn hole, in the small grassy area. 

You settle at the table, folding chair pulled flush against Pedro’s. A large hand palms above your knee, exposed below the inseam of your shorts. The sun is warm on your skin, fingers wet from the condensation of the can you’re pretending to nurse.  

“— the AMPTP doesn’t know what they’re talking about,” Holland is saying, from where you’ve entered the conversation. 

Oscar’s brother, whose name you should know by now, laughs. “Been four months now, though,” he shrugs. “You think someone would’ve budged by now, but—“ 

"Woah, woah." From his perch on his wife's lap, Oscar points, looking scandalized. “What the fuck is that!" 

Pointing, unexpectedly, at the ring on your finger. 

"Uh." Pedro's looks sheepish. 

"You're joking!" A hand dramatically clutches his heart, while Oscar swoons against Elvira. "I'm wounded. Sarah, did you know about this?" 

Across the table, she raises a glass, mockingly. "I picked out the ring." 

"That's not true—" Pedro begins to protest. 

"—Sorry, I forced him to make a fucking decision because he'd been agonizing over three options for like a month." 

Pedro shrugs. "I wanted it to be perfect," he says sheepishly, "sue me!" 

"No, no, backup," Oscar says. "I don't care about the rings. I can't believe you didn't tell me!" 

"I can," Elvira offers, "you've got a big mouth." 

He groans. "It's not like it was a secret!" 

Loud interruptions from across the table. "It was absolutely a secret, that's the whole point!" 

Oscar throws a hand up. "You already act like you're married, is anyone surprised about this?" 

"You were surprised." 

"I was surprised you didn't tell me! Wounded, frankly. Irredeemably. To the core." 

"Are you done?" Sarah rolls her eyes, squeezing Pedro's shoulder affectionately. "About damn time, but we're happy for you." 

She gestures at Oscar. “Yeah, yeah, we’re happy for you.” 

“With feeling this time.” 

“Guys,” Pedro interjects, “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. It happened two days ago!” 

He launches into the tale, eggplants and double-rings and all. The hand stays planted on your knee, and you take advantage, laying yours on top to thumb over the band on his ring finger. Someone tops Pedro off, and you reach for a sip— strawberry, you determine, is the marg syrup. You’re not really listening, but you lean back, content to watch him retell the story. 

The next time he kisses you, as the sun sets into the Brooklyn skyline, you taste like strawberries, too. 

[evans55]

‼️‼️‼️‼️

SOBER REALIZATIONS

dom!joel miller x dad!male reader

genre: neighbor joel, no outbreak au, explicit, minors dni

summary: after waking up in joel’s bed — naked, you try your best to ignore him, but joel’s persistence becomes apparent when he interrupts dinner with your daughter.

warnings: infidelity, strong language, fingering, porn with plot, joel is 40, reader is 38, unprotected P in A, dirty talk, outdoor sex, fingering, praise and degrading, cockwarming, choking

word count: 7.8k

a/n: dividers by @firefly-graphics

official playlist

YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WOKE YOU UP FIRST. THE PAIN-SPLITTING HEADACHE OR THE ACHE AND SORENESS IN YOUR BUTT.

A string of sun rays hit you straight in the face, and you were agitated that it was the morning and that you had to be an adult.

You mumbled and grumbled as you brought your hands up toward your forehead. You knew it wouldn't help with the pain right away, but it would bring some of it down. The hangover you got was coming like a truck, and the sun wasn't doing any favors of slowing the pain down.

Getting up from your bed felt like it would be an impossible task. Your eyes were blurry from the headache in your head. Moving your hands away from your face and down by your side, you took a deep breath and contemplated getting out of —

Your hand hit something on your side, something hard.

You squint your eyes and look to your right, and that's when you see it — a tanned body next to you.

Your eyes open wide as you sit up, and you notice it’s Joel Miller. A married Joel Miller is naked, next to you, who is also naked — and in the same bed he and Adaline share.

You have trouble breathing for a second but then catch the staggering breaths. You slowed down to process the night before.

Going over to Joel’s to drink, getting drunk, the question, then you touching his bulge. Then the city boy, nickname/pet name. Your head yelled at you to stop what was happening, but you ignored it. The rough sex that resulted in you being in Joel’s bed.

You facepalmed before cursing yourself, slowing your head down; you knew you had to get out of his bed while he was sleeping out from the alcohol you both consumed.

You slowly slid toward the edge of the till your feet were near the end of the bed. Softly placing both feet on the wooden floor below you — standing up, you felt pain in your thighs, like an intense vibration.

That sensation made you fall on your knee; you held yourself up the best you could with the bed on your side. It felt like your legs were jelly under your weight, but you had to escape this predicament.

Walking out and down the stairs of Joel’s house was a mission on its own; you almost slipped down his stairs at least twice. Finally, making it on the floor, you see Joel and your clothes sprawled, the two glasses you drank from on the coffee table, and the bottle of rum you bought over — almost empty.

You shook your head and grabbed your clothes, and put them on, hoping that. Marigold, Sarah, or Joel wasn't seeing you naked. As you slipped your clothes on, you heard Joel upstairs, mumbling and grumbling.

Then you heard the floor creak above you, and your eyes widened. You slip your shoes on as fast as possible and slip out of the front door as quickly and quietly as possible. Once outside, you take deep breaths — like you were getting choked.

Hands on your knees and gasping for breath, you feel the bile coming up your throat. Holding in your cheeks, you release the contents in your stomach on the grass next to you. After throwing up, you shuffled your feet toward your front door.

Groaning in pain as you open your door, you notice Sarah and Marigold sleeping on the couch in the living room. You smile at the thought of the girls having a fun/eventful night.

You rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, got a glass of water, opened the ibuprofen, and popped a pill in your mouth, taking a swig of water for the medicine to travel down your throat easier/faster.

Exhaling a breath and looking around your kitchen, you feel defeated that what you did with Joel might eat you alive for a long time.

“C’mon, city boy, let's be an adult.”

“Do you want to go out to eat?” Marigold asks.

You look up from the paperwork you are doing in your kitchen.

“What made you think of that?”

“Well, we barely go out to eat, anyway. I mean, when was the last time we enjoyed dinner, father, and daughter?”

You slowly nod and think about the last time you and Marigold actually went to dinner, she had to be ten the last time, and now she’s fifteen.

You did need a stress reliever from the paperwork; you could always do the paperwork another day; or procrastinate.

“Any suggestions?” You shrug.

Marigold puts her fingers to her chin as if concentrating hard on her answer. But then her eyes light up with astonishment.

“What's that one place where it's like a family-owned business, and they used to give the kids milkshake with Twisler straws?”

You had to think about what she said. Many family-oriented businesses resided in Austin at times, hell you own a bakery your dad wanted to build back when you were a kid. But the milkshake with the Twisler straws made you scratch your head.

“I’m drawing a blank, Mare. Do you remember the letter of the building? Or anything that stuck out to you?” You ask.

“They had light-up letters, with a pattern of blue and red, while the background was blue, and the red and blue lights flashed at times,” Marigold explained.

It was on the tip of your tongue, and you hated that you couldn't immediately remember the name. It had to be something familiar that it almost pissed you off that you couldn't —

You clap your hands with an answer. “Pete’s?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Marigold exclaimed.

“I can't believe I didn't remember that place.”

“Me either,” Marigold breathed.

“Hell yeah, let's go!” You smile. Marigold smiles from ear to ear as you get up from your seat.

“Do you think Sarah has ever been to Pete’s?” Marigold asks.

Your heart sank as you felt cold, grabbing your keys off the coffee table. Involving Sarah would’ve been friendly, but you wanted it to be a father-daughter night. And you knew your daughter; whenever she brings up Sarah, somehow Sarah has joined the party —which you didn't mind, just after last night, you wouldn’t want to see any Miller.

“Maybe, Joel might’ve,” You shrugged.

“Maybe the four of us can go one night,” Marigold smiled.

You nodded, hoping that the conversation would end there. “That sounds nice. You ready to go?” Marigold’s smile beams as she bounces her head.

Out the front door, Marigold races to the passenger seat of your black 1967 Chevrolet Impala and is almost bouncing with anticipation. As you unlock the doors, standing in between the open door and the leather seat, you see Joel and Sarah watching something on the TV and your heart aches. You were happy that Sarah could be with her dad and not worry about anything.

But it destroyed you that you could be what Sarah would have to worry about.

Marigold’s hand finds its way over to the horn and hits her palm smack in the middle. “You coming?”

You snap out of your head and sit in the driver's seat, closing the door and starting the car up, and hearing the engine roar to life.

“When are you going to get a new car? Don't get me wrong, I love this one, but don't you think you deserve something better?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, moving the stick shift to drive. “This car is something better,” You start driving.

You didn't tell Marigold or anyone this, not even your best friend — your ex-wife. It was a gift from your late dad, and you couldn’t simply part from it. So you fixed it, got it working, and now it's yours.

You start driving out of the cul-de-sac, and you notice Marigold already has her headphone in her ears and is texting away. You shake your head and smile as you drive to Pete’s and be hopeful that the night goes smoothly and quickly as you planned it — in your head.

But a part of you wished you had asked who Marigold was texting. A chill ran down your spine as you thought of Mare texting Sarah and Joel would arrive unannounced. But he wouldn't do that, right? Right?

At Pete’s, your worries are off as you pull up in the parking lot, noticing it fills up fast with many cars.

Being seated, you notice that Marigold is bouncing in anticipation; you can't tell if she’s more excited about a milkshake with a Twisler straw or the memories returning to her head. You can't help but smile at how adorable your daughter is acting.

She notices you and stops bouncing.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You, you're adorable,” You comment.

Marigold shakes her head and looks down at the table under her hands. “Your so corny, Dad.”

You chuckle as you hear her mumble; your daughter was always your pride and joy, the main thing you always looked forward to seeing after work was over. Seeing her smile always made your heart melt with happiness.

You notice how noisy Pete’s is, and well, it is summer vacation, and families love this place as much as you and your daughter remember it.

You notice a girl wearing a tight ponytail walking up to your table; here come your daughter’s ants in her pants. She bounces with joy when the girl introduces herself.

“Hello, Welcome to Pete’s; I am Quinn, and I am going to be your server tonight. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

As Quinn takes the notepad from her back pocket, you open your mouth, but Marigold beats you.

“I would like a vanilla milkshake with a Twisler straw, please.”

Quinn writes Marigold's drinks down on the notepad. “And you, sir?”

“Um, I’m driving home tonight, so just water is fine,” You smile.

Quinn finishes writing and nods and smiles her head, shoving her notepad in her pocket. “Okay, I will be right back with your drinks,” She smiles.

The teenage girl walked away with a bit of pep in her step; either she was eager to get our drinks or trying to accomplish her task.

Glancing at Marigold, her phone is on the table, scrolling at something; you can't determine what she’s staring at.

“Whatcha’ starin’ at?” You ask.

Marigold’s neck snaps up. Theirs a hint of blush rushing to her cheeks.

“Nothing important,” Marigold dismissed.

She looks back down at her phone.

“Uh huh, and the fact that your blushing has nothing to do with what you're looking at?” You point out.

Marigold snaps her neck up again and places her palms on her cheeks. She looks panicked as your looking at her but then looks defeated.

“Is this a boy?” You ask, crossing your arms.

When you mention a boy to your daughter, you can see her cheeks get redder and her smile wider. “So this is a boy,” You confirm.

She nods her head with a smile plastered on her face.

“Aww, my little flower is growing up.”

“Dad, stop,” Marigold blushed.

“Does Sarah know him?” You ask.

“Well, yeah! I mean, she knows a little about him, bits and pieces.”

“Well, you should bring him by the bakery one night, so I could finally meet this mystery guy,” You suggest.

“You're not going to be that one dad who interrogates the guy I like, right?”

“Possibly, If he checks all the boxes,” You smile.

Marigold and you are chuckling together, and you can't help but feel happy in the rare moments you can spend time with her; it always makes your day better.

Even though she was growing up, it tugged on your heartstrings that she would be going to college soon, and you wouldn't have these moments with her anymore —

“Okay, here are your drinks,” Quinn arrives with yours and Marigold’s drinks.

She places Marigold’s milkshake before her, and Mare claps like an eager kid; Quinn places your cup of Ice water in front of her, and you shoot her a smile.

“Do you guys know what you're ready to order? Or do you still need another minute?” Quinn asks.

You look at Marigold, who shakes her head no.

“Give us a minute,” You smile.

Quinn smiles and walks away. Marigold glances at the menu under her hands; you look at the menu under you while your hands are between your thighs.

“Have any idea of what you want to get?” Marigold questions.

“Um, no, I don’t, you?” You pick your head up.

“I’m conflicted between the pasta or the chicken tenders.”

“Well, since I’m a child; I suggest the chicken tenders.”

Looking up, you noticed Sarah and Joel standing next to Marigold. Marigold jumped out of her seat to hug Sarah while you awkwardly smiled at Joel.

“Oh my gosh, what are you guys doing here?” Marigold asks, breaking the hug from Sarah.

“Well, I showed Dad our texts, and he had the bright idea to come to surprise you guys,” Sarah smiled.

“Of course, he did,” You thought.

“Well, it's a nice surprise,” You smile.

“Yes, it is. Come on guys, sit, sit,” Marigold commands.

“Okay,” Sarah giggles.

Sarah wastes no time sitting next to her best friend. She’s smiling from ear to ear as she side-hugs your daughter. Joel comes and sits next to you; you shuffle to the side, and your shoulder connects with the wall next to you.

“I’m sorry if we interrupted father-daughter time,” Joel apologizes.

“It's okay; I’m pretty sure Marigold would rather hang out with her best friend than her old dad,” You comment.

“Nonsense, Dad, I love you both equally,” Marigold smiles.

You grab Marigold’s hand and smile.

Quinn arrives with a smile plastered on her face.

“Okay, guys, and — woah, I didn't know you were here.”

“Surprise,” You and Sarah shrug.

“Well then, it’s a nice surprise. Do you guys want anything to drink?” Quinn asks.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Sarah points towards Marigold.

“A beer,” Joel answered.

“Coming right up,” Quinn smiles and walks away.

“But you're driving home,” You spoke.

“I know how to sober fast, city boy,” Joel comments.

“City boy? That’s a new one.” Marigold chuckles.

“I like it; it makes sense, considering you guys lived in a city before you moved here,” Sarah Acknowledges.

“Mare told you about that, Sarah?” You question.

“Mhm,” Sarah nods.

You nod. Thinking about what Marigold had told Sarah—hopefully only good things.

“I promise I haven't told Sarah anything embarrassing,” Marigold admits.

“Well, besides the fact that you sing in the shower as if you were doing a live concert,” Sarah smirks.

Your mouth drops in a playful grin.

“Marigold,” You exclaim.

“C’mom, Dad, you didn't expect me to bring that up.”

“No, I didn't. Sarah would’ve had to see it as everyone else does — also, thanks for signing me up bake five hundred cupcakes,” You roll your eyes.

“Hey, those cupcakes are amazing and neighbors need to know how good they are — besides me.”

“You are aware I own a bakery, right?”

“Not the type of man to have a sweet tooth, but for city boy. I’ll have any cake he makes; any cake of his,” Joel interrupts.

You couldn't tell if he was genuine or flirting with you, but he hid it well with that smirk. But you know you have butterflies in your stomach that you don't need now.

He brings his arm around your shoulder on top of the leather seat. You feel his arm on the back of your neck, and you sense his legs move as he spreads his legs apart.

It's like he’s teasing you in your mind. Making you remember what you did that last time he spread his legs apart.

Your spine shivers as your daughters are talking to one another. You could feel his gaze on you as you were looking for any means of escape, you didn’t want to cause a scene but you knew you had to leave but how —

“Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?” You ask Joel.

“No city boy, lemme get out of your way. Joel fixes his position and slides out of the leather seat. You slide out and try to hide your speed walk away from the table.

Pushing your hand to open the bathroom door, you noticed the bathroom was empty. Breathing heavily, you grab the porcelain sink.

You couldn't tell if Joel was making you confused or frustrated.

But breathing heavily in a bathroom was a reaction you didn't know would come out. A low scream: maybe. You want to pinch yourself: the low possibility of doing that was on the floor. But heavy breathing was off the table.

You had no idea how to feel, but you didn't want to let that interfere with the dinner with your daughter. But this feeling you couldn’t describe, and with Joel just next to you, it was going to explode one way or another, and you weren't ready for —

You hear the door open behind you; you snap your neck up from the sink to the mirror in front of you. You see Joel in the reflection behind you. You shake your head as you don't want to look at him, simply imagining that he walked in here, but once you stop shaking your head, he’s still there, looking at you.

“Everything alright, city boy?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, peachy,” You breathed.

“Are you sure? You got away from the table fast—”

“Why’d you come here?” You asked, turning around.

“It’s a good place for the girls to talk to each other and — I just needed to talk to you,” Joel admitted.

“You could’ve talked to me any other day, but the day after, we —” You stopped talking to look in the bathroom stalls.

After calming yourself down by confirming the empty bathroom, you continued your sentence.

“Had sex in your house.”

“I needed to figure somethin’ out.”

“What, Joel?” You ask.

Joel stepped closer to you, at least four feet from your position. “How did it feel afterward?”

One of the questions you were going to regret answering; How did it feel to have sex with a married man? Honest answer; fantastic. Lie; awful, you're the reason I threw up.

You obviously couldn't answer with either because Joel wanted to hear the correct answer, but you couldn't spit out the lie without it sounding fictitious.

“What are you trying to prove, Joel?”

“City boy, I’m attempting to figure something out,”

“What? What is so important that you interrupted my dinner with my daughter?”

Joel stepped closer to you, your chests were practically touching.

“How was the mind-blowing sex we had last night feel?” Joel growled.

He knew he didn't have to word it like that — at all, but he needed an answer; the truth.

“I. . hated. . it,” You gritted.

“Really? City boy?”

“Yes.”

Joel leans his head towards yours — lips barely touch each other; you can feel him ferociously exhale from his nostrils.

“City boy, if your lyin’ to me, I’m going to have to punish you, and you know how rough I can be,” Joel breathes.

You had to hold back on the temptations, and he wanted your reaction. Joel wanted you to fold, but you were prone to think with your head than your intrusive thoughts.

“Joel, what happened last night, it was great — fantastic even, but you’re married; you understand that, right?” You stated.

“We’re not even together enough. Adaline sees me as more of a business partner than an actual husband. What you and I have is so much more —”

“We’ve been together one night, Joel; how do you know that what happened last night wasn't just a mistake?”

“Because city boy, I’ve never felt more electricity ever in my life until that night. I’m pretty sure you haven't felt the same, too,” Joel commented.

He wasn't wrong; your body was on overdrive that night; you thought it was just adrenaline — it could’ve been both: electricity and adrenaline.

“Joel, think about our daughters — their best friends if they catch us; your daughter — Sarah, could hate me forever, and my daughter might hate me for ruining her friendship with Sarah. I can't do that, Joel.”

You try to walk away, but Joel grabs your hand. His rough hands contrast with your sweaty palms. Joel didn't grab your hand with force, but you didn't pull out, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Your worth the risk; 'I’d divorce Adaline just to be with you.”

“Don’t make any empty promises. I’m so sick of hearing those—just false hope your feeding me,” You spoke.

“I’m not the type to do that, city boy. You’re too important.”

“Your family should be more important than some second-rate-world-class-hooker that could ruin everything you worked so hard for,” You confessed.

Trying to walk away, Joel pulled you closer to him, and you both bumped chests. Joel wasted no time kissing you with such force and determination. Your reasoning almost went out the window with that electrifying kiss.

Keyword: almost.

Your lips melted together like a puzzle piece. Your arms found their way around his tall shoulders. Joel’s hands slid from your lower back to your ass. He gripped your ass so hard a yelp escaped from your mouth and into Joel’s mouth.

Joel was mad at you for calling yourself a “hooker.” The fact that you could call yourself that made Joel filled with rage. He wanted to spank the shit out of you to learn your lesson, having to control himself in the porcelain walls of the bathroom the best he could.

Joel backed his lips away from you, heavy breaths escaping as he was fuming, trying to calm himself down. “Never call yourself that again, you understand me,” Joel snapped.

You want to nod, but trying to control yourself, you shake your head. “Why did you do that, Joel?”

“Would you have rathered the east route or the hard route?” Joel asked.

“Neither; you should've just let me walk away.”

“And lose the chance of explaining myself to you? I did the right thing,” Joel expressed.

“No, Joel, you didn't, god this is messed up.”

You try walking away again, but Joel’s hand is still in your grasp; this time, you try to leave his grip, but he’s holding on, not ready to let go.

“Joel—”

“Come by tonight,” Joel breathes.

“To do what?”

“I just need to see if what happened last night was a fluke. I want to see,” Joel admitted.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Come around the back. I’ll meet you there,” Joel nodded.

Joel, let go of your hand. You resume leaving the bathroom and walking toward the table, where you see Sarah and Marigold conversing. You slide into your seat, breaking the girl's conversation.

“Everything okay, Dad?” Marigold asked.

You nod.

“Well, we ordered for you, considering I know what you like,” Marigold smiled.

“Thanks, sweetie,” You exclaim.

Joel shuffles into his seat after coming back from the bathroom. You didn't know what he did after he left, and you didn't care now. You were just happy to be with your daughter and her best friend.

“Hey, Sarah, if you wouldn’t mind, Marigold would love it if you spent the night again,” You started.

“Wait, what?” Marigold asks.

“Are you sure, sir?”

You nod. “It's summer vacation; the two girls in our lives deserve some fun,” You smirk.

“Thanks, Dad,” Marigold laughs.

Marigold and Sarah start talking in their world. You look toward Joel, and he gives you a look of confusion. You lean towards his ear.

“When you beg, it's weird. Don't do that again, I prefer Joel from last night.”

You wink at him as you back your head up from his ear; Joel leans closer to you, and you can feel his exhale leave his nostrils against your ear.

“Let me give you a preview of what tonight is gonna ensue.”

Joel slides his hands onto your thigh. You hitch a breath as he slides down your inner thigh and rubs up closer to the outline of your cock. Your hands find their way to the table before you; you trail your finger on the condensation on the water cup before you.

“You like that, city boy?” Joel whispers. You wanted to kiss him, hell, even moan, but your girls were sitting in front of you.

Joel slid his hand off your thigh, and your cock strained on your zipper. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab your cup of water to try to calm down.

The girls had already made their way up to Marigold’s bedroom. While you sat in the living room, waiting for some indication from Joel to come over there. You felt like a schoolgirl carrying this huge secret. You sat with your phone in your hand — screen black having no confidence in your gut like before at Pete’s in the bathroom with Joel.

What if you were over your head and never wanted this huge secret creeping down your neck? You could just —

Your phone screen lit up with a text from Joel.

Joel: You comin?

You didn't even text him back; you left your phone on the counter and got up from the couch, and walked out — slowly closing the door behind you so the girls didn't come downstairs.

The crickets and cicadas chirp in the night air as the stars twinkle above your head. A slight breeze sends a shiver down your spine as you cross the street. You’ve seen the door to the house that Joel, Adaline, and Sarah shared many times, but you weren't going through that door.

You went to the side of the house and quietly stalked, as you didn't want any of Joel’s neighbors to notice you. You heard mumbling and grumbling in the back; peaking your head around the corner, you saw Joel’s face illuminated by his phone screen. He must have been annoyed that you haven't texted him back.

“Can't even answer a simple question. You don't know what you’re doin’ to me, city boy,” Joel grumbled.

You could’ve made some excuse to Joel when you see him the next day. You honestly didn't know if you wanted to be here or not. It was a puzzle in a video game — no matter how many times you go through each possibility, you always land with the same outcome.

Doing the mature thing was the best outcome of an alternative. You could find another person you could mess around with — though that always felt like a needle in a haystack, you always found something to work for you — until it didn't.

“Just turn around and leave,” You thought, turning around.

As you turn around, your arm hits the house next to you, and a loud thud vibrates against the house. Joel snaps his neck towards the sound and calls out for you.

“City boy? You there?”

You facepalm and huff a breath, doing another 180 turns and walking towards Joel. You cross your arms as your whole body now feels cold. “I was wonderin’ where you were. Didn't you get my texts?”

“No, I left my phone at home.”

“Ahh, understandable,” Joel nods.

“In what way?” You ask.

Joel steps up to you and crosses his arm in front of you. “C’mon, city boy, I gotta think of a good enough punishment for ignoring me this whole day.”

“I wasn't ignoring you,” You comeback.

You were trying to ignore him. You didn't want to see him for at least a week.

“City boy, are you lyin’ to me again?” Joel questions.

“No,” You huff.

“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk,” Joel breathed. He chuckled at the end of his Tsking. He was wiping the corners of his mouth.

“Let me ask again,” Joel started.

Before you can open your mouth again, Joel’s hand finds its way onto your bulge. You hitch a breath as you place your hands on Joel’s biceps. You tried to move Joel’s hand, but it was like his hand was welded onto your crotch — not moving.

“Are you lyin’ t’me again, city boy?” Joel questions.

“Yes, god, yes, now move your hand.”

“N-no, I’m not,” You breathe. You were getting hard under Joel’s strong hand; his touch was addictive — you wanted an out, but it was just too good.

“Seems like your cock, is betrayin’ you, city boy. I’m going to have to punish you,” Joel growled.

“How?” You ask.

“Like this,” Joel nods. Joel moves his hand and shoves you toward the pool next to you. Ears muffled with water, your vision blurry as you stand up; you see Joel standing with his arms crossed, looking down at you.

“You asshole!” You exclaimed.

“Shouldn’t have lied, city boy,” Joel shrugs.

“I could've drowned!”

“The water’s like five feet.”

“Whatever, damn. It’s cold as hell.”

“Hold on, I'm comin’,” Joel states.

Joel bends down in front of you with his hand extended. As you grab him, you pull hard towards you. “Oh sh—”

Joel’s coming in, making a big splash. You laugh as he goes under. You can't control your laugh as Joel stands up and looks at you. He looks angry. The dark grey shirt he’s wearing clings to his chest. His nipples hardened under the damp cloth.

“You think this is fuckin’ funny? What if my phone was in my pocket?” Joel asks.

“It would’ve made me laugh even harder,” You nodded.

“Oh yeah, city boy?”

“Yeah,” You keep laughing.

Joel’s scowl could kill you with how hard he’s staring at you. You can't contain your laughter; it's as if Joel said the world's funniest joke.

You tried your hardest to stop laughing, but the laughs escaped your lips. Joel looked furious at you as he was standing there, dripping, fuming at the predicament you put him through.

Joel trudged his feet towards you, looking like he was on a mission; as he walked towards you, your laughs finally died down — but you still had a smile on your face.

Joel wrapped his hand around your throat as he placed his lips on yours — hard. You moaned in shock; you weren't expecting this hard of a kiss from Joel and the pleasure that came along with it.

His grip on your throat was tight. You wrapped your hand around Joel’s, and you could feel his veins almost jump out of his hand.

“Joel — can't breathe,” You cracked.

Joel loosened his grip around your throat — but his hand was still around your throat. The water around you seemed like they were roaring to life with how much passion you and Joel were experiencing. Joel’s rough exterior was cracking piece by piece — slowly as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. You slid your hand around Joel’s neck, bringing yourself closer to him.

Your moans radiated off Joel’s mouth as they were being muffled by the water splashing around the two of you. With how much water was moving between the passionate kisses you and Joel shared, you could’ve had a tsunami in the backyard.

As Joel still had his hand wrapped around his throat, his other arm had wrapped around the curve of your back, exposing your skin towards the cold pool wall.

You hiss as your skin makes contact with the pool wall, stopping the kiss with Joel suddenly.

“You all good, city boy?”Joel asks.

“Yeah, my back hit the wall, just cold.”

Joel lifts you and makes you sit on the pool's edge —with your feet still in the pool. He pushes himself up and walks past you as you watch him escape towards the back door.

Your whole body starts to shiver as you wait for Joel. You rub your hands together like you were sitting by the fire on a cold day, but you weren't. You were sitting on the edge of Joel’s pool — feet still dipped in on a warm summer night.

You cross your arms, hugging yourself so you can feel warm. Your mouth chatters, and your body starts to shake. You look up and notice the stars are looking down at you as you're looking up at them.

You could get lost in the stars for hours at this time of night. But unfortunately, you didn't have hours. You knew the sun would rise soon and ruin this illusion.

You hear Joel’s backdoor close, but you don't turn around. Neck strained up and shivering, you didn't want to make sudden movements to make yourself colder.

Joel wraps a towel over your shoulder. You almost jump, feeling the material on your covered shoulders.

“There you go, city boy,” Joel states, sitting beside you, placing his covered feet in the pool — towel-wrapped around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” You shiver.

“No problem.”

Joel notices you looking up and not at him. He strained his neck to see what you were staring at.

“What are ya looking at?” Joel asks.

“Just the stars,” You answer.

“What’s special about ‘em?” Joel asks.

You scoff before answering. “I’ve always thought someone would never kiss me under the stars — I know, such a baby thing, but I’ve always yearned for it. So that pool kiss was a thought that fluttered in my mind.”

“I was going to fuck you back here. If you’d look down at my dick, you’d notice that my cock was hurtin’ against my jeans,” Joel starts.

You stop looking towards the stars and then towards Joel.

“Wanted to hear those pretty moans again, right in my ear. Hell, thinkin’ about it right now, my cock is throbbing so hard.”

You can't stop your eyes from glancing at his bulge. You can tell that it wasn't the fabric of his jeans. It was his actual bulge rubbing against his jeans. You could feel his pain as your cock was growing hard in your damp jeans.

You lick your lips out of comfort rather than pleasure.

Joel’s eyes are still glancing down at his aching cock. You didn't know if you wanted a repeat of the last twenty-four hours with Joel, but you were sober, so you had to think about your situation with a clear state of mind.

“Unbuckle your belt.”

“What?” Joel asks.

“Take off your belt, Joel. I‘m helpin’ you out again,” You smirk.

All mature thoughts must've left your head when Joel kissed you in the bathroom or when he threw you in the pool, choked you, and kissed you. But right here and now, you wanted Joel’s cock again. You knew you were going to regret it in the morning. But that would be you in the morning; this is you at midnight — running on adrenaline and satisfaction.

Joel had undone his belt as you take your feet out of the pool and waste no time leaning on your knees.

Joel’s pants were around his knees, but his boxers constricted his dick. You could see his cock throbbing and his precum through the material in his underwear.

“Remind you of anythin’, city boy?”

You scoff at Joel. You fixed his boxers for his cock to go through the hole. Lines of pre cum leaking through the slit of his huge cock.

Your mouth takes Joel’s length, and he throws his head back in pleasure. You taste Joel’s pre cum and the mix of pool water on your tastebuds. You could hear Joel’s breathing rushing through his teeth like he was ready to explode.

“Fuck, baby boy. I missed that mouth,” Joel groaned.

You started to go faster, and your throat kept getting tighter as you almost gagged on Joel’s cock. Joel’s hand found its way to the back of your head. His hand was making your pace go faster, and his balls tingled with more satisfaction than he could handle

“Oh fuck, baby. I could cum in that pretty mouth right now.”

You slow down as you want this experience to last for a long time.

Joel's hands slid down from your head to the curve of your back to under your pants and underwear. You could feel his rough and calloused hands on your ass. You moan on Joel’s cock as he slips one of his fingers into your ass.

His actions started slow and pleasurable for you.

“So fuckin’ tight, city boy. I’m gonna bury my cock so far into that boy pussy ‘f yours,” Joel growled.

You pick your head up and stroke Joel’s cock. You place your lips on him as his finger picks up the pace. He’s going faster, and you can barely keep stroking his cock. Your moans are bouncing off Joel’s lips.

His cock was throbbing in your hand. It felt like Joel was on overdrive. His kisses felt hungry, desperate, and all-around passionate.

“Turn around, baby. I miss eatin’ that ass out,” Joel grunted.

As you back away from Joel’s lips, you see the string of saliva coming from your lips and his. You unbuckle your pants before you turn around on your hands and knees — your ass is now facing Joel.

You hear a mumble and grunt from Joel as you hear the water dribbling off his shoes and pants. You feel Joel’s hands slap your ass hard — you yelp in retaliation.

Joel’s mouth makes contact with your hole, and you moan. You could tell Joel was hungry — starving. You could cum with how Joel’s tongue was in your ass. You clench your fists as Joel is working wonders for your ass.

“Damn, Joel. That feels so amazing,” You moan.

“I’ve been missin’ this sweet peach since last night.”

Joel smacks your ass again and again and again.

You could feel the sting on your ass cheeks as you feel Joel’s tongue again. You were getting greedy. You wanted Joel’s cock buried in your ass — you wanted to feel what his cock would feel like sober and not drunk.

“Joel,” You breathe.

“Yeah, city boy?” Joel breathes.

“Can you please fuck me?”

Joel gets his mouth away from your ass, and you look back at him — straining your neck.

“What happened to my city boy? Beggin’ for my cock, like that? Soundin’ kinda needy again,” Joel growled.

“Fuck you,” You shudder. You turn your head back and lay your head on your hands. You wanted the same feeling from last night. Joel’s cock couldn't compare to your old hookups.

You almost scream as you feel Joel’s cock slowly go inside you. You pick your head up and clench your teeth in pleasure.

“Ahh, fuck, city boy. How do you keep gettin’ so fuckin’ tight?” Joel growls.

You don't answer; you hold your head up as you look back at Joel. You have a flashback from last night as you see Joel’s shit-eating grin. His hips started going back and forth, and with each thrust, you could feel his cock stretch you out — slowly.

Joel’s hands were on your waist — rough. It felt like he could mark his territory with his hands there. You moaned, but you didn't want to give the whole neighborhood an unpaid show — you suppressed them the best you could, but with every thrust, your moans would slip from your mouth.

“Baby boy, your takin’ my cock so well,” Joel grunted.

“I missed it so much, Joel,” You breathed.

“My cock has missed your tight ass, city boy.”

Joel’s grip from your waist released, and he picked you up from the front of your neck so your back collided with his chest — wrapping his arm around your neck, not tight. You could feel Joel’s breath on your ear, and you felt like you could cum right then and there.

Joel’s hand made hard contact with your ass, you moaned in retaliation, and you could hear Joel’s grunts as he pumped his cock in and out of you.

“J-Joel?” You started.

“Yeah, city boy?”

“I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, city boy? Cum for me,” Joel command.

You haven't even touched your dick ever since Joel started fucking you, but you knew you were close to having an orgasm. It was a feeling that felt different sober than drunk.

You could feel your cum almost shoot out of your hardened cock, and you almost broke your neck, placing your head on Joel’s shoulder. Joel takes the opportunity to kiss you. Joel was still hungry, and he wasn't full yet. Joel’s hand wraps around your cock and starts to stroke you. You moan in his mouth — it was the hottest thing you ever experienced, and you didn't want it to stop.

You pick your head up, and Joel attacks your neck like a vampire; you are on the brink of cumming, and his neck kisses are helping you have more pleasure and satisfaction.

“I can feel your cock twitch in my hands, city boy. Y’gonna cum, baby?” Joel growls.

“Yes, oh god, Joel, yes!” You whimpered.

A married man is the first person to make you whimper — to feel overstimulated. You knew you shouldn't like this, but your mind went blank the second Joel’s cock was inside you.

“That’s so fuckin’ hot, baby,” Joel grunted.

Hearing Joel’s voice in your ear again was enough for you.

“F-Fuck, Joel. I’m cumming.”

Your moans kept escaping from your lips; were they loud? Maybe. But you didn't care; you were feeling so much pleasure you wanted people in space to hear you.

Strings of white cum littered the concrete below — and Joel’s hand. Joel hearing your moans, thought he had cum under all the pleasure you were screaming. He was still hard as a rock — on the verge of cumming. But he wanted to treat you right and make you feel good.

Joel dislodged his cock from your ass as you pant on your hands and knees.

“Is something wrong?” You ask.

You turn your head — still panting and notice Joel’s pants and underwear aren't around his ankles anymore, but his boots are still on, laced up.

“Can you stand, city boy?” Joel questions, standing up.

You try to pick yourself up, but the same feeling from this morning comes back like a truck, and you are back on your knees.

“No,” You shake your head.

You didn't notice Joel’s smirk on his face; you were too busy feeling ashamed if you did something wrong. Joel’s cock was still hard and stiff. He huffed a breath as he picked you up bridal style. “Wanted to make sure that city boy knows that those moans you were screaming are for my ears and my ears only,” Joel hisses.

You are back inside Joel's house — in the same familiar setting as last night. Joel had removed your pants and underwear before you returned inside, and your casual shoes were still on your feet. Joel placed you on the same couch you both fucked on hours before.

Joel’s one-sided grin on his face made your cock twitch. Joel had lifted your pelvis and had his cock hovered over your hole.

He had one boot on the couch and one on the floor.

Joel didn't waste a second; he just shoved his cock inside you.

Your moans exploded, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Joel’s hips were going up and down, and he was throwing his head back in pleasure.

“FFFF—Fuckin’ Christ, city boy. I missed this boy pussy so badly,” Joel gruffed. Joel’s hands on your thighs were under his palms, and he was grasping them like a stress ball.

“Is that why you brought me inside? To tell me you missed my boy pussy?”

Joel fixed his position so that he was inches away from your face. Both boots were on the couch, while your calves were on either side of Joel’s head.

Joel started to pump his cock in and out of you. Your moans radiated all over the house's walls — the sound barrier could break.

“I needed those pretty little noises you make inside — don’t want the neighbors to think I’m murderin’ you,” Joel grinned.

“As if — you could — mmph — ever murder me, — FFFF-ucking hell Joel.”

You roll your head to the side and shut your eyes as you feel every inch, every thrust, every grunt, and every time you can feel Joel’s cock throb inside you. It was electrifying — adrenaline-inducing, like last night.

You snap your eyes open as you feel Joel move your neck to look towards him. His hand still wrapped around your throat — you can see lust and pleasure in his eyes.

Joel had determination written on his face as he breathed through his teeth, pumping his cock Inside you. You could swear you could feel Joel’s cock hit your stomach — your moans became hitched as Joel nearly exploded. His grip around your throat got a little tight for you.

It was hard to get a good breath in your hand found it's way towards Joel’s wrapped around your throat.

“Jo-Joel, can barley breathe,” You breathed.

Joel realized his mistake — keeping the same pace before unwrapping his hand off your throat and placing it on the side of your face.

“I’m sorry, city boy. I’m just so close, I’m do fuckin’ close, city boy,” Joel clenched his teeth.

His forehead was on yours, and he quickly picked up his pace.

“Oh fuck baby, I’m going to get you pregnant with how much cum is gonna be inside you,” Joel growled.

“Please, Joel, give it to me! Get me pregnant!” You moan.

With a couple of thrusts, you could feel Joel’s warm cum inside you. He moaned, and your cock twitched at the sound of it. His whole body shook once, twice, and then he rested his body on top of yours. His cock was still inside you. He just wanted to rest for a second.

“City boy, your pussy is so fuckin’ amazing. I can never get tired of it,” Joel breathed.

“You’re funny,” You panted.

You and Joel couldn't help but feel safe and comfortable. Last night, you both fell asleep, but now this is a vulnerable setting you weren't used to.

“I didn't hurt you. I- I didn't mean to hurt you anyway, city boy.”

“You're okay, Joel. It was a little different, but I’m okay,” You admitted.

“Good, that's great.”

Joel's friendly personality went back into his dominant personality as he slipped his cock out of you and picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?”

“Your punishment isn't over, city boy — far from it.” Joel spat. Joel started to walk with you over his shoulder, and you could only guess what punishment he planned.

taglist: @alt2606 @evans55 @traningdummy @odetodilfs @strang3lov3 @groggygrogu @gracieispunk

[evans55]

F1 Cribs with Alex Albon

[evans55]

i just got over serotonin syndrome again. god damn that was so horrendous and painful.

feeling healthy has never been so amazing

#serotonin syndrome #like wtfff #the third time ive had it #at least i wasn’t hospitalized this time tho

[evans55]

Sleepless Nights

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Pairing: Joel Miller x Gender Neutral Reader, platonic relationship with Ellie Williams

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: During their short rest in Wyoming, reader begins to panic about their future life (and love), Joel unknowingly stirs the pot.

Warnings: some angst, self-doubt and panic from reader and some eventual fluff, forehead smooches, age gap (reader is mentioned to be in their early to mid-twenties post college, Joel’s age remains the same) requited/unrequited love, not sticking to plot timeline (I just love stretching out their time in Jackson because the possibilities are endless!) no use of Y/N. GENDER NEUTRAL, NO IMPLIED OC

A/N: This is quite literally the first real thing I’ve ever written in my life, so please, for the love of god, go easy on me!!!!! I wrote this late one night when I was sad and couldn’t get any sleep, this just word vomited out of me. I love the TLOU so damn much, and my brain has never recovered from this obsession since I discovered it. I’m never gonna get over Joel, I would sell my soul to speak to that man for two seconds. I’m such a whore for him. I hope you enjoy this ^^

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Somehow, two days in Jackson, Wyoming felt longer than all the time it took to get here. The gated town left you with much to adjust to. Your long months on the road had you, Joel and Ellie very accustomed to survival mode, spending most days on high alert, with miles to go and often on an empty stomach. Sometimes, the only thing that kept you moving was the fear of staying in the same place for too long.

And now, it was as though none of that ever happened. Like somehow, all the atrocities that occurred, all the little pieces of yourself you’d left behind, had disappeared beyond the town’s gates. How strange it was, after months of trekking through deep wood and the dilapidated remains of cities, to stumble upon a place so normal and human.

Even as the day faded, and evening darkened the skies, just outside the window of your room, you could hear laughing, kids whining, and the rustling of people going about their lives. Sounds of life outside your own, that weren’t a cause for concern, kept your heart full through the winter nights.

But, this didn't alleviate all your worries. After all, you knew your time here would eventually be cut short.

"We'll stay, just for a little while, maybe a week or so. It’ll give us a chance to rest, get back on our feet.”

Seven days seemed longer then, when Joel had first mentioned it. Now, you couldn't help but feel like things were a bit more complicated.

Over the last few months, Joel had warmed up to both you and Ellie. Somehow, you’d managed to break through some of his rough exterior. Now you’d found a different side of Joel accompanying you on your trip. He didn't respond curtly anymore, he managed to string together a sentence or two, even if you’d asked him something stupid. Whenever you and Ellie would go back and forth, arguing over something trivial or when she'd pull out yet another genius pun from her favorite book, you'd see the ghost of a smile briefly flash over his face.

If that wasn't enough, you couldn't help but feel like the air between you two had changed significantly. It didn’t feel friendly, it felt like something more. It was delicate, and had you not been paying any mind to it, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed.

How gentle he was with you, the way his gaze or his hands would linger a moment longer than necessary.

Sometimes, on sleepless nights, when Ellie was fast asleep, you two would talk, and he'd open up far more than you'd ever expected. Even if he backpedaled and closed himself off shortly after, it still mattered to you that he tried. That he cared enough to even bother.

And you couldn't deny that you'd felt something, too. From the very beginning, it was always more than just close quarters or loneliness, you took to Joel. You honestly didn't know why, God knows you didn't have much in common. When the pandemic hit, you were in your last year of university. By then, Joel had likely lived through far more than you possibly imagine at that time, all bright-eyed and overly optimistic despite your academic stresses.

It didn’t make sense, but there were these moments, ones on the road (for the few days you had Bill’s truck), quiet conversations during your long hikes and in cramped up corners that you feel safe. He made you feel so warm and loved, despite his coldness. You wanted nothing more than to reach in and drag out the person he was before all this, before he lost his daughter, and before the world broke.

Now that he’d found Tommy safe and sound, you couldn't help but think about the end of your journey. Hell, everything about being here made you think about the future. About the family you never thought you would have.

Before Cordyceps, your ties to blood family were loose and your friendships even looser. You never had much to cling to. During your college years, while you were still figuring yourself out, you never managed to find any company along the way. You only existed in brief, awkward interactions that never stained anyone’s minds long term. You felt insignificant and while you valued your freedom, the thought of dying alone kept you up many nights.

Now, you felt like you were losing something near and dear to you. It felt like only days ago that Joel was pointing a gun to your face and now, you couldn’t live without him. Deep down, every part of your being wanted to keep living this way, pandemic or otherwise, with Ellie and Joel. It didn't matter, whether you stayed in Wyoming or not. You knew there were no other people in the world you could’ve taken this trip with.

You just wished this whole “love” thing was a bit easier. It made you envy the shows you’d watched as a kid, where the main characters would quickly admit their love for one another (romantic or otherwise) and then they’d happily march into the sunset, hand in hand, to continue on their goofy and heartfelt adventures.

There were no words to describe how badly you wanted that. A fade to black, a happy ending wrapped in a bow that didn't require any hard conversations. One where you didn't have to look Joel in the eyes and bare your soul out to him, knowing full well he might reject you just to save himself (and you) any further pain. In the rare moments that he would hold your gaze, all your confidence left you. You were far from a wayward teen or a child, but for those quick seconds you felt like you’d been hiding a rose behind your back, like your eagerness to love him was written all over your face.

Even after casting all your feelings for Joel aside, what would come of Ellie? What about the cure?

It wasn't something you three had spoken much about. After all, she was just a kid, who didn't deserve any more stress or worry. You only towed the topic gently when she’d brought it up, but, even after all this time, you were still unsure.

What would happen if it worked?

It was hard to imagine the world regaining any form of structure, even with a cure. The brutality, and the bloodshed you’d all seen, was caused by humans just as much as it was from infected.

Humanity was broken on a different level, one Ellie’s blood could not reach.

And what about afterward?

Ellie would still need someone to look after her. And you knew damn well you weren’t going to leave her at the mercy of strangers. Fireflies or not. It didn’t matter, not after everything you’d been through.

You felt like a sibling to her, but also like a parent. She looked to both you and Joel for direction. If you’d asked something of her, she’d do it, even if it was in between her usual teenage sass. On the other hand, the age gap between the two of you wasn’t as large as you and Joel’s. It was all too easy to fall into chaotic banter and get on each other’s nerves. You’d spent plenty of travel time pestering each other to keep the days short.

More than anything, you felt a responsibility for her that you hadn’t felt for anyone else.

Now, you'd take a bullet for her, without hesitation, and those feelings don't just die in a week. Cure or no cure.

So, maybe that was your happy ending. You’d get to be the parent-sibling, and you'd stay with her. Asking Ellie to be your travel buddy seemed a hell of a lot easier than admitting your feelings to Joel. Just the idea of it made you sick.

Asking him to stay with you. Begging him not to leave.

You could feel the rejection now, even though the words had never been said. The image of you, outside, your face hot, tears threatening to spill, as you watched Joel's figure blur and disappear into the distance was too much to bear.

You knew your confession would kill you. After that, you would never be whole again. But you couldn't not know. You needed to be absolutely certain of Joel’s feelings. If you never asked him, you'd regret for the rest of your life.

It was this stream of thoughts, circling through your head in a never ending chaos, that kept you from sleep's embrace.

You tossed, turned and cursed at yourself. Since yesterday, you planned to be up as early as possible as not to waste the little time you had in Jackson, and your internal dialogue was getting you nowhere. Staring at the ceiling was not helping to make these life-altering decisions any easier. Still, You couldn't let this rest. You needed to know what would happen next for you. Who would decide your fate. And until you did, you wouldn't rest, either.

The sound of the front door creaking open and shuffling took you away from your spiraling mind. You jumped a bit, more than you'd care to admit but, you were miles away and weren't expecting anyone at the house.

Joel had spent all day with his brother, catching up on lost time, so you and Ellie had been left to fend for yourselves.

Maria's tour of the commune had left you with a vague memory of where to go, but since you'd managed to navigate miles and miles of forest (mainly by following Joel's command) you figured your determination and Ellie's snark would get you through.

And it did. You found more than enough to occupy yourselves. After a shower and a hot meal, you scoured every inch of the commune (or one long street at least). You’d passed by some shops, the movie theater once more, and settled by the horse stables to cool off.

Once the sun started to set, and since you hadn't run into Joel at any point throughout the day (though you secretly hoped you would) you decided it’d be best to walk back to your rooms before it got too dark. You’d likely touch base with Joel in the morning, though the thought did nothing to ease your nerves.

Right now, you felt like you couldn't even look at him, not with all of this running through your head. If you didn’t get a chance to bury all of this deep down, you’d melt in the morning sun. All you wanted was some time, and a good night’s sleep would do the trick.

As the footsteps grew louder, you rolled over and tried your best to look asleep. You felt like a little kid now, trying to hide that you’d stayed up past your bedtime. You had felt like this more often than you wanted to with Joel. Not because of his doing, but, what could possibly make you think that someone like him would want to pursue you? You were barely into your 20s, and never had a chance to experience the world before it all feel apart. You were so inexperienced, immature, and there was no way he didn’t see some of that in you. In his mind, you were just like Ellie. A kid to look after, nothing more. And while you’d had some pleasant times together, there was no way in hell that would stir up romantic feelings in him.

You shut your eyes, hoping to hide from yourself and him, should he decide to visit.

Joel’s room was on the floor below yours, so the moment you heard shuffling up the staircase, your heart skipped.

You figured, in Joel fashion, he had probably come upstairs to check on both of you, especially considering he hadn’t seen you the whole day, but you could not, for the life of you, calm down. How dumb it would have looked to find you, all scrunched up uncomfortably in bed, under the dim light. To save yourself the embarrassment, you did your best to loosen up and sink into the mattress.

Ellie's room was a door from yours, and closest to the stairs. It creaked open softly, and the footsteps disappeared inside for just a moment, merging with the silence. Then after a time, out they came, and the door creaked again ever so slightly as it met the hinges.

You’re next.

You felt like you were in a horror movie with extremely trivial consequences.

Laying there all stiffened up, trying to look as peacefully asleep as you possibly could, you waited for your door to inevitably open. After a moment it did, and even with your eyes closed, you knew it was Joel.

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Joel was anxious to get back to the house as soon as possible. This had been the longest time in the last few months that he’d been apart from both you, and Ellie.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that there wasn’t any real danger. He also knew that you were a grown ass adult, fully capable of handling themselves, teenage company included, and had proven so time and time again, but against all logic, he just couldn't scratch the itch. It bothered him all damn day; he needed to see for himself that his newest passengers were still safe and sound.

Joel had settled things with Tommy, and, was happy to catch up and see the life his younger brother had created for himself. Even with all the feelings Tommy’s pregnancy announcement had stirred up within him.

Still, in between their conversations, Joel’s mind kept crawling back to the same people. The cargo he’d at one point, been praying to get rid of. Now, he missed the two of them, plain and simple.

He wanted to hear their little quips and snide remarks, along with the warm laughs both you and Ellie drew out of each other with the dumbest jokes. The combination of cautious optimism during the travels, hearing your footsteps as a whisper behind him during silent days, brought him a comfort he hadn't known for years. Both your presence and Ellie’s soothed him, in a way he hadn't felt since Sarah’s passing.

You drew him back, against his better judgement, to feelings and a past that he'd tried so desperately tried to bury. And now, no matter how hard he tried to keep it at bay, everything kept crawling back to the surface.

But Joel didn't want to think about all that now. There was no easy solution. He just wanted to see the both of you safe and fast asleep. Then he could get a much-needed night's rest and figure out the rest later.

Too much of the town domesticity had made him soft. A little part of him, one that he dare not acknowledge, started to ache for this little family of sorts. Ellie, witty as ever, and you by his side. As much as it killed him to admit, it didn’t sound so bad.

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You laid there, stiff as a board, as you felt Joel move around the bed frame, coasting the edge until he stood right beside your head.

You felt his warmth all over you. He smelled like the outside but not in a bad way, it was his usual earthy musk and, as he leaned closer, the lingering scent of whiskey. He'd no doubt shared a few drinks with Tommy, and now you’d wished he'd stayed longer instead of torturing you with this sudden proximity.

You felt his hand slide over your forehead, gently, as to not “wake” you and then, of all the things he could've done, he leaned over you and gently pressed his lips to your temple.

And god, you hated him for it.

For all the feelings he stirred up in you.

It was as though, he'd felt your yearning, that big ugly mess of feelings you couldn't deal with, and decided to add fuel to the fire.

Damn it Joel.

You wanted to shove him away. Better that than you getting bold enough to pull him closer and beg him to stay the night. You’d never wanted anyone else the way you wanted Joel. It felt like only days ago that you’d thought he was a complete asshole, that you’d be celebrating being back in the QZ. What happened?

"G'night darling" Joel whispered over the soft sounds from outside.

God, the things he could to do to you with just two fucking words.

There were so many times you thought could move past your feelings and focus on the long journey ahead, for both your sake and Ellie's.

But everything he did stirred something in you. Every moment of tenderness he'd shown both you and Ellie when you skipped a step or fell behind for a second too long.

It was his fucking smile. The little suggestion of it that peered through when Ellie managed to get a rise out of him, despite the grumpy old man that he was.

You hated it, how he was always so close to you and yet a million miles away. Maybe, if you had met him in a different world or another universe, you wouldn't of thought twice about him, but right now it mattered so damn much, This is all you ever wanted and needed in this cruel life. Every day and night, you ached for him.

And now it was his presence, all encompassing and unwavering, shrouding you from the moonlight, protecting you from any danger that'd ever dare to close your path. It was his honeyed voice and southern drawl, silently promising to wrap you up in a warm coat for the rest of your days.

But, as quickly as it happened, it was over, and once again he was tip-toeing over the hardwood floors and closing your door. He left, and you knew after that, there wouldn't be a moment of sleep.

Long after his steps grew distant, and the building went still once again, you couldn't move. You laid still, just as you'd been before, searching the pale walls for answers, for anything to quell the fire building up in you.

Gif Credits to: @ // trashcora

Despite all of your doubts, uncertainty and the possibility of future pain, your mind and body were burning for him.

[evans55]

I just had the worst and saddest possible day ever and all I wished was someone here, just to hug me under my cold covers. Can you please make something up with pedro and reader please?

I'm so sorry you are going through this?? I hope things have improved since you submitted this. Sending love your way.

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okay (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

a little, plotless shorty for your troubles.

thanks, as always, for everything.

TW: a very brief mention of disordered eating

summary: sometimes, you just need to be held.

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"I'm okay," you whisper. "It's okay, really. I just need a little bit."

Less than convincing.

There is a dip in the mattress behind you. Even with your eyes closed, covers pulled over your head, turned away from him entirely, you can tell he is settling against the headboard, atop the duvet.

Pedro doesn't speak. Doesn't touch you, either, but you're not really sure if you're grateful for that; sometimes, being touched when you're like this feels so intolerable, it takes your breath away. Other times, a soft touch feels like the only thing that can hold you together. Trial and error, involving a lot of shitty and unfair antagonisms, has taught Pedro to give you space before he gives you love.

This is why you suck, your brain supplies. Nothing more— your mind is too fucking tired to even dissect your insecurities properly. You just feel bad.

Not without reason; at least, not today. Three missed calls from your mother, with whom you are barely speaking to, anyways. (It turns out being engaged to Oberyn Martell is about the only thing that could cure her passive aggressive homophobia. A bit too late to be water under the bridge, at any rate.)

Three missed calls, and some really shit news.

So, you're in bed. Under the covers, hiding, as if 8:30 is a totally normal bedtime.

And things are decidedly not good.

The tears come, silent and steady.

A warm press of lips to the back of your neck startles you; hot puffs of breath where his nose is buries into the hair curled at your nape, just a moment, before pulling back. It does not feel as bad as you'd feared.

"Sorry," you croak, blindly reaching behind you; squeeze what feels like his knee, in what you hope is a marginally reassuring gesture. "I'm fine, baby, you don't have to sit here with me." Pedro is early to bed— neither of you are really night owls— but not this early.

He makes no effort to move. "Can I..." A tentative hand, between your shoulder blades.

You can't help the thin whine that accompanies your shaky exhale. Fucking pathetic. But you turn, slowly, rolling over to face him. You'd assumed he was up against the headboard, but he's shifted down now, head on the pillow beside you.

Smiling, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Wordlessly, he tucks an arm over your waist. He's always been strong, biceps as thick and sturdy as tree limbs, but the Gladiator training has added a layer of muscle just about everywhere. (Including his stomach. Abs are slowly stealing the small belly there, and while you're proud of the work he's putting in, you secretly miss the softness.)

"I don't know what you're thinking," Pedro whispers, mouth brushing against the top of your head. "But I'm so sorry, honey." He rubs the length of your spine, brow furrowing at the feeling of unfamiliar protrusions. Stress and an irregular schedule has sent good eating habits by the wayside; your body is shrinking, while his grows.

It's been the shittiest fucking month. He's been gone, you've been busy, and neither of you have gotten enough of the other. Back in New York three days now, but this is the first night you've been able to stay in together— and, of course, you've ruined it.

"Just happy to be with you," Pedro says, as if reading your mind. "Maybe this strike'll last forever, and I'll never need to go back to Morocco. Sorry, Paul Mescal."

You laugh, despite yourself, thick with tears. "I'm gonna miss the fan selfies, I think. What're they calling you? Pee-paw?"

Pedro groans, punishing you by pulling you tighter against him. Your face is squashed against his chest. Not a hardship. He smells clean, spiced. Familiar. Comfortably, and safe.

"You're engaged to the oldest man on the internet," he laments. "In Twitter years, I'm dead."

The squished hug is short-lived, breaking as he rolls back, gently, to get a better look at you. Cups your face, puffy and wet and gross; brushes twin thumbs over your cheeks, with a fond smile.

"There you are," Pedro whispers.

"I'm okay." Another sniff, but the threat of tears seems to have subsided. Today was shit, but it's over now; you're here, together, with nothing but time and sleep ahead of you.

"It's okay that you're not, sweetheart."

But you are. You're with him.