#Tommy Miller Fanfic

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader x Tommy Miller

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summary | twisted into the miller brothers web, you find yourself deeply entangled in a complicated situation between the two and hell bent on self-preservation, you discover that running isn't always the best choice.

author's note | i was going to get this out before the end of the year if it was the last thing i did. i have never been so fully engulfed in a fic like this. it's just a little mini series, but i could talk about this shit for hours. thank you to everyone who's listened to my incoherent rambling and especially @gracieheartspedro who nailed down this ending when i was struggling so hard to decide. if you enjoy this silly story as much as me, ily.

content warning | 18+ smut, this is heavily joel miller x reader leaning, cannibalism, gore, mentions of violence, blood, death, joel's territorial <3, lots of unprotected sex going on 'round here, oral (f receiving), pain kink go hard, blood kink and consumption, biting kink, literal love as consumption, restraints, description of wounds from said bites, scarring, omitting a few tags for spoilers but please remember you are responsible for the work you consume, if you are ever feeling uncomfortable, do not continue reading. this is dark fic. that's the only warning i'm giving.

word count —13k, BITTER (part one)

“Killin’ is a viable option.”

Tommy groans, hand rubbing over his face as he leans against the kitchen counter, “They aren’t backwoods folk, Joel. You know that, we gotta be smart.”

“All they gotta do is get the law involved,” Joel points out, “fancy lawyers—“

“We’re selling to half that department,” Tommy argues, a long moment of silence before he adds, “and if you’d stop interrupting I’d tell you I already spoke to ‘em. Said I’d run it by you first before we set anything in stone.”

The big brother seal of approval.

You watch along curiously, stuck in the chair that Joel had a hand gripped around, sandwiched between them both as they volleyed arguments back and forth like they were fighting gladiators shoved in the colosseum—may the best man win.

“I still think we should just kill ‘em,” Joel chirps with finality, glancing briefly over your dumbstruck look, frozen somewhere between fear and shock, their voices fading in and out like muffled conversation, “make sure no one’ll come askin’ questions. Easy. You ain’t never had an issue with it before.”

The letter was still clutched in Tommy’s hand, a list of vague threats and accusations—the weird occurrences around the Miller property, the strange behavior of Tommy’s older brother, the smell. There wasn’t hard evidence, but they weren’t wrong either. A few minutes grazing the property and a look in the barn would confirm anyone’s suspicions—which, speaking of…

“Are you going to kill me now?”

 It was a brave thing to interject with, given Joel’s current hostility around the situation with their nosey neighbors and you, like a pest making a mess of his home. But, instead it was him. His mind—a foreign feeling that he didn’t like or intent to allow to wreak havoc much longer.

He’d kill you if he had to, if that was what it took.

Unsurprisingly, they both ignore you.

“Let me talk to ‘em tomorrow, Joel,” Tommy barters, “see if I can smooth things over.”

“Ya ain’t smoothin’ shit over, we know how this goes—you lose your temper and then we have a mess. Just take care of the fucking problem like I suggested.”

You knew the house, it was the only one within walking distance. Far off, covered by a line of trees and eclectic decor—you never thought much of it, under the impression that everyone in this town was as demented as the Miller brothers, most of the suspicions confirmed as the brothers continued to argue. 

It was an open secret—deranged and fucked-up, but there was full, completely loyalty.

If you had gone digging enough, you would have found out yourself. But, Joel wanted you to know. It takes a killer to know a killer—the wood of the chair cracks behind you as his grip tightens.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you,” Tommy comforts suddenly, a quick glance over of your injuries, “not intentionally, at least—”

“She fell,” Joel explains, a half-truth, “made a damn mess and wasted the scraps for the pigs—”

“Joel,” Tommy warns, returning his gaze to you, “You’ve been good to us, better than most. We can trust each other, alright? Ain’t no reason to think otherwise.”

He was sickeningly sweet, laying it on so thick you see right through the facade. He was upset, rightfully so, but you weren’t sure how much of it was directed at Joel and how much of it was directed at you.

“When did I surpass being a meal?” You turn your attention toward Tommy, flicking your eyes up briefly at Joel, “Was it before or after you fucked me?”

You expect it to be newfound information to Joel, but he doesn’t react in the slightest. He almost smirks, actually. A sudden, miniscule response that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t so on edge.

“Now, darlin’—”

“Cut the shit, Tommy,” You retort, “When did it happen?”

“Still a chance, if you’re feelin’ persistent,” Joel taunts.

Tommy shoots Joel a dangerous glare before his face softens.

“The thought never occurred to me,” Tommy replies though you find it hard to believe him, “M’not sayin’ we’ve been this kind to everyone, but with you—s’different. Right, Joel?”

“Well, she does like the taste,” He grins viciously, a showing of teeth that sends your body into a full chill, “ate it right up, loved it.”

Your eyes shoot daggers in his direction and he shrugs, his tongue shoved into his cheek as he moves to stand, turning in a circle on his heels as he leans against the nearest surface.

“I mean it, you’re safe with us,” Tommy assures, “out there—we can’t protect you. And if you think we’re the monsters, you’re in for a rude awakenin’, baby.”

“Don’t,” You chuffle, a short laugh through your nose, “I’ll—I’ll stay, but this,” You wave your finger between him and you, before it circles the group, a discoordinated trio, “I don’t trust either of you and don’t call me that. Don’t call me anything, actually.”

Your anger was justified and Tommy didn’t try to argue, only sinking back in his chair with an ‘I told you so’ look on Joel’s face. Luckily, they leave you to gather yourself, ignoring the subtle sting from the wounds on your legs and your spiraling thoughts—you could wait until nightfall.

That was it—wait long enough until it was dark and they were both asleep and make a run for the only sane people in the nearest vicinity. They could help you and help take the two brothers down in the process, it was a fair victory for the opposing party and your only saving grace.

–

They retire to their rooms eventually, the insistent chirp of crickets keeping you awake, standing on sore legs as you move around the dark room and pulling on a warm pair of clothes to trek against the nighttime winds. 

You were careful, prying open doors with a quiet effort and allowing the softest steps against the old floorboard as you reached the door, immediately met with the deadbolt lock and an even heftier lock to keep you trapped–or to Tommy, safe. The house was silent aside from the sounds of nature, the occasional howling wind blowing through but you looked around, searching for another path—you had already made it this far, you weren’t going to go scrambling back.

If anything, the backdoor would have the same locks and your eyes scan the windows, closed shut but not inescapable. If either of them decided to wake, they would surely know. 

There was no time to deliberate or weigh the consequences, hurrying toward the living room window that led toward the yard, pulling it up with forceful but cautious precision, ripping at the screen.

It isn’t an easy feat, not nearly the path you would have chose, but you fell to the ground with a deft slump, careful of your fresh bandages and gravel under your hands as you land, wincing as you stand but peering inside of the house cautiously, determining if you needed to make a run for it.

Silence meets you. Dead silence.

The eerie feeling in the distance creeps in, eyeing the house over your shoulder that is still lowly lit but quite the walk, you turn on your heels and make the long walk there, wondering if darting off down the road would be simpler, continuing until you came upon another sign of civilization or normality, anything to save you.

As you grow closer, the muffled melodic tunes coming from the house start to drown out your stream of thoughts, the bass booming from the driveway as you grow closer. You careful approach the steps to their door, pressing a finger into the doorbell as it chimes throughout the house—the music lowers in an instant, quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop, the door ripping open with a forceful gust of air, meet with the fierce scowl of an older gentleman.

It was hard to describe him, but there was so much going on—a peek at the inner house decor that screamed for a touch of neutralness, a mix of beaded necklaces hanging around his neck over a stretched out tank, barefoot as he approached you on the mat at his door.

It only dawns on you now that you hadn’t prepared anything—you were drawing a complete blank.

“You better start talking,” He speaks, a grittiness to his voice that stills you at your core, “botherin’ us in the middle of the night—”

“You’re right,” You blurt out, shaking your head slightly as you realize how abrasive it was, taking a breath before you speak slower, “about Joel and Tommy, you’re right. They’re bad people.”

His expression turns steely, jaw tightening as he straightens his back in an intimidating manner. You couldn’t mistake the whiff of alcohol on his breath, his drifting eyes down the length of your body, slowly realizing that this might have been a mistake.

Self-preservation had always come first, even if you didn’t think the Miller’s were the worst possible people you could have come across, they were unfortunate targets in the moment. 

“They—they are killing,” You point vaguely in the direction of the house, “it’s—the smell, it’s the bodies. They’re murders, you have to help me,” It comes out in a panic and you stutter as the confession rolls off your tongue, his expression only growing dark as time passes.

Fuck, he didn’t believe you. Of course—who would? 

Hey, you’ve got a couple cannibals for neighbors—let’s deal with them.

It was never that easy.

“You don’t think I know?” He responds, stepping into your space to send you stumbling backwards, but his arms lock around your biceps and keep you upright, but not for the reason he should, feeling the sting of pain as he squeezes down hard.

You gasp at the suddenness of it, “N—no, no! You have to believe me!”

“I’ve seen you helpin’ them,” He nods vaguely, “Think I’m gonna believe this shit? Where are they, huh?” The spit from his vicious reaction and volume sprays against your face as he shoves you to the ground, your arms skidding against the cement as you scramble backwards, trying to flee his quickly approaching figure, “They use you as bait?”

He’s over you before you have a chance to roll out of the way, your forearm presses up against his neck as he leers, glancing around for any sign of the brothers—silently praying that he was right in the moment, but you knew there was no one to help. Just you. Just him.

He forces you onto your stomach as your face was smashed into the rock path along the driveway, “Well, good—they can watch,” It makes your blood run cold, sensing the exact implication of his words as you calmly and slyly wrap your fingers around a palm sized rock, curling it in your fist as he leans back on his legs, twisting in his grip and bashing the rock blindly at his face, a grunt releasing from him as you make contact with his skull, falling to the ground with a dead weight as you scramble away breathless.

You stare at the sight, a man near death on his lawn before the whistle fades in—low and melodic as it approaches with the sound of heavy boots and speaking before you can react.

“Well, look at that,” Joel looks on in admiration, a small suspicion of amusement in his tone as he steps onto the lawn and peers over you, hand extended out blindly for help as he cautiously steps around the pooling blood of the now dead man, “little messier than I like, but you got the job done.”

If looks could kill—you’re seething, staring up at Joel with narrowed eyes as you take his hand and stand.

“I’ll give you some credit,” Joel continues, “You’re resourceful but predictable—suppose you can’t trust anyone in this town anymore, can you?”

He’s cocky about it, which pisses you off more. Undoubtedly, he was probably watching you the entire time, waiting in the shadows, undetectable. He’s mastered his craft, he killed people for a living. It wasn’t a mystery how he knew or expected your retaliation. But, his reaction is jarring.

“C’mon, up,” He yanks at your hand and helps you upright, instinctually brushing the clumps of grass and dirt out of your hair with a pinched expression as your eyes slowly drag toward the motion, unmoving out of…not fear. It was something indescribable, flinching at the heat of his hands as his eyes gradually rose toward the upstairs window.

“You know what happens next, right?” Joel asks, kicking at the dead body to roll him on his back, staring down at the lifeless corpse.

You didn’t need the whole speech—murder me now, please. Spare me the misery.

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighs, almost like he’s carrying on a conversation with himself—and with your silence, he was. But, he senses your fear, “well—you can’t just murder one and not the other, you little killer. You’re gonna take care of the other one, too.”

“Joel—I—” The adrenaline rush was waning, the bile in your stomach swimming and swirling.

His face hardens in an instant, forcing his hand over your mouth with a stern shake of his head as your eyes grow wide, “Ain’t time for excuses.  You made this mess—you’re gonna finish it.”

You blink slowly, searching for any sign of a bluff. It never comes, in fact, his grip only grows tighter until you answer, shakily nodding your head.

“Go on,” He urges, “I’m right behind you.”

He’d have a front row seat this time instead of waiting in the wings. 

Joel wanted a full taste.

–

The wife is tucked into bed when you finally find her, barricaded in her sheets and sleeping soundly despite the loud, blaring music when you first approach the house—you figured it was a regular occurrence, but you don’t linger on the thought long. 

You hold onto the thought of the husband and his unwillingness to hear you out, how they seemed to already have you figured out, wrapped up in the Miller’s web and just another willing accomplice, repeating the same careful steps from earlier that had clearly failed you as Joel breathed over your shoulder.

It needed to be quick—not entirely painless, but clean.

The vase to the left of her head seemed like an emergency option, the woman splayed out on her back as you searched around, knowing that you didn’t have long with Joel’s looming presence. You chew at your bottom lip as you reach carefully for the pillow beside her head and slowly press it over her face, a few seconds of calm before you find yourself in a predicament.

Climbing over her lap, you mount and press the weight of your palms into the pillow, face scrunched in concentration as the woman flails and shakes against the movement, grunting meekly as your hand slips against the scratch of her nails, glaring at Joel for a silent plea of help, realizing that she was putting up far more of a fight then either of you expected.

He waits until the last possible second, an unreadable expression on his face before he’s flipping the switchblade out of his pocket and piercing it through her clavicle, the blood squirting on your chest and face, rearing back instinctually as you gasp, her body falling lifeless in an instant.

“I can appreciate the effort,” Joel comments, wiping the blade off on the sleeve of your shirt before he pockets it again, “how’d that feel?”

You don’t realize your heart is racing until he asks the question—it was a similar feeling to a drug-induced high, slightly floaty and off-balance, your mind hazy as you blink, the stench of iron filling your senses and that strange look on Joel’s face returns.

You understand it then—lust, another subtle hint as he licks at his bottom lip out of reflex.

Joel would lick you clean if you let him.

You clear your throat and speak quietly, “What—what do we do?”

“Well, we gotta transfer ‘em to the house,” Joel explains, “So, you’ll stay here and wait—not run, that clear?”

You nod mindlessly, towering over your second dead body of the night.

You were far too deep now.

You don’t move—not really. You sink to the sheets beside the woman’s body but you listen dutifully, ears perking up at the roar of an approaching truck and door slamming followed by footsteps before Joel reappears again, seemingly breathing out a sigh of subtle relief as he spots you.

He’d never admit it, but you can see it.

It take a while, but eventually you carry both bodies into the bed of the truck and cover them with tarp, questioning Joel on what happens with the house, the evidence, everything that could essentially criminalize both of you—

“That’s above my paygrade, honey,” You’re not amiss to the change in his voice, his expression more relaxed as he shifts the truck into gear, “the sheriff handles all that for us.”

“And…the sheriff…he—”

Joel chuckles, “It’s everyone. Not just a group of us. We aren’t just sellin’ to townsfolk, either. It’s overseas, across the country. Shit is high risk, high reward. Why do you think I followed you tonight?”

So, he did follow you—he’d known the entire time.

“I saw the idea pop into your head earlier while Tommy and I were arguin’. Like I said, predictable. I’m not sayin’ you didn’t have a fair reaction, I get it. But, we can keep you safe.”

You cross your arms over your chest silently, skin and face caked with blood.

“But will you?” You retort, “Can I really trust you both?”

As the truck pulls in near the barn, the ignition falls silent.

“I want to,” Joel admits, “natural ability like that shouldn’t be wasted.”

A natural-born killer, he means.

“You feelin’ guilty right now?” Joel asks, eyebrows raised.

You shake your head quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Joel works silently to unload the bodies and load them in the barn as you sit quietly in the passenger seat, staring at the barn door as he drags tarp covered corpses inside with a brute strength unlike his brother, somehow spotless throughout the entire ordeal.

“I’ll move the truck in the morning,” Joel tells you as he pulls your door open, a hand waiting in assistance as you climb out on unsteady feet, the ache of your wounds coming back in waves as reality sets in.

“It is morning,” You retort, earning a huff of annoyance from Joel.

“You know what the fuck I meant,” He responds, his thumb flicking at a flake of dried blood on your collarbone as you stand in front of him, “Tommy’ll get pissy if you wash the blood off in the main bathroom—I’ll let you use mine.”

Your face contorts in a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Or I can hose you down out here, your choice.”

–

The house is as quiet as you left it, guided silently with the touch of Joel’s hand between your shoulder blades as you traversed the dark house—and you aren’t sure what you were expecting as you enter Joel’s bedroom, but it wasn’t this.

It was lived-in, personal; full of books and random trinkets, pictures lining the top of his dresser and walls—his family, you can only assume. A few pictures of kids that you surmise are Joel and Tommy, you avoid Joel’s gaze as you look around aimlessly, clearing your throat as you approach the bathroom, hearing the light flick on beside your head.

It was clean, at least. A dark colored shower curtain hiding the tub away from view and his bathroom amenities only slightly astray, probably from previous use that night. 

You turn to him with a quizzical expression, his expression matching.

“What? Somethin’ wrong?” He asks.

“It’s just—it’s…clean. It doesn’t—it doesn’t fit you, I guess.”

“I’m just a dirty old man to you, ain’t I?”

It’s a joke, but his delivery falls flat.

“I’m confused, I guess.” You tell him honestly, “Look at me—” A vague gesture at your own disheveled state, dirt and blood smeared on your face as he tilts his head against the doorframe.

“I am,” The deep timber to his voice strikes you at your core, a casual but unsuspecting answer, “I cleaned up for the night, wasn’t plannin’ on getting dirty again.”

“But, you’re always dirty.”

His job required that—but Joel was meticulous about his routine after he was done for the day. Dinner, a thorough shower, sometimes another if he was feeling particularly bothered, and the quiet of the calm house to lull him to sleep.

Unfortunately, that routine has been disrupted since you arrived. 

Like an infestation, you’d taken over.

Joel ignores you with a half-assed shrug and flicks a dried speck of blood from your nose.

“Go on,” He demands, “I’ll grab you some clothes and fresh bandages.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and nod as you gently swat his hand away, avoiding his gaze as you press the door closed enough that it doesn’t lock, but allows you the privacy to undress.

It feels good to clean the blood and grime away, scrubbing at your body until it burns, bathing in the distinct smell of Joel’s body wash, a faint hint of it always wafting off of him despite his usually dirtied state.

You can hear him moving quietly beyond the curtain, his shadow passing a few times as you’re expecting him to fold against the urge to peek his head beyond the curtain—something, anything.

You hated the forced gentlemanly facade. 

Once you’re out of the shower and dressed in clothes Joel had picked out, a matching set and a fresh pair of underwear that had you glancing sideways at him as his fingers peeked around the bathroom door with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and fresh bandages in his hands.

He kneels quietly with a concentrated expression, mirroring his actions from before. Wincing through the sting of pain as he cleans and dresses your wounds, catching his glances as the noises slip beyond your lips—an inconspicuous check-in, wordless.

You can’t help but fuck with him now, defenses down.

His eyes follow the way your hand smooths over the waistband of your shorts, your thumb slipping beyond the thick band as you lean against the mirror, watching as he taped down the gauze, “Kinda defeats the purpose, don’t it?”

“What’re ya gettin’ at?”

“The whole—bet you can’t guess what color underwear I’m wearing joke,” You play quietly with the waistband, fingers twirling in the drawstrings below your navel as your thighs spread against his guidance, his hand sliding down to your ankle to raise your leg higher in an effort to secure the bandage, “I see you wanted them to match,” You jest at him lightly, noticing the way his eyes immediately lock onto the apex of your thighs.

He brushes it off, a roll of his eyes as he finishes up his job, carefully piling up the trash on the floor as you slowly slide off the bathroom counter, leaving his head level with your waist. 

Had you asked yourself if you wanted to be this close to him twelve hours ago, the answer would have been different, but the downright pathetic look on his face as his eyes drag up your body and eventually land on your face are a powerful spell.

Slowly, your hands drift into his hair—surprisingly soft as the curls sway with your movement, gripping the hair tight and pushing his head back in the process, a low rumble in his throat at the action.

“Do you like that?” You inquire, his eyes darkening at the question as he sets his sight on something he wants—a primal gaze, almost like a warning.

“You tryin’ to make my brother jealous?” He asks, “Think I should tell him about your plan to rat us out—how it didn’t work and now you’re tryin’ this—”

“I can’t leave now,” You admit, still not fully settled with the idea but deep down you knew, “I—I do feel safe, you know. With you—”

You exhale shakily as his lips press against the sliver of skin beneath your shirt, just below your navel as his eyes fall shut, his tongue following the path as he presses surprisingly gentle kisses into the skin before his fingers are curling over the band of your shorts.

“Don’t trust me, though—do you?” Joel asks snarkily, eyes peeking open slightly as your lips part in a soft gasp as he pulls the clothing down your hips, peeling the underwear down with it.

One hand drags up your calf, calloused hands against soft skin as he pulls one knee over his shoulder and shoves your shirt upwards, giving him an obscured view of your cunt, lips spreading open with the movement and glistening with slick despite how much you tried to loathe him—there was a racing in your heart that differed from Tommy, like you know you shouldn’t be doing this but your body was demanding otherwise.

You shake your head lazily as it drops back, slumping against the medicine cabinet as he drags a finger through your folds, toying with your clit in small movements, silent as he drinks in every small sound you make, your opposite hand digging into the counter of the sink as his fingers dig into your thigh, opening your eyes as he presses his lips to your cunt, right against the mound and into the short, coarse patch of hair before he’s spreading his tongue out flat against you and licking a slow, tortuous line up the seam.

“Trust–trust is earned,” You reply breathily, “It, fuck—it takes time.”

Joel hums a response of approval as his nose nudges against your clit, tongue dipping inside of your hole as he stared up at you, even at this angle you could see the smug smirk on his face as he drank you in—Joel was still a frightful man, enough unknown that you found yourself wondering if the choices you were making were correct, if somehow this would cost you your life in the end.

But, then he’s pulling away, dragging his finger up the seam of your pussy as he stands, unbuckling his belt quietly as you strip your shirt away, not needing to be told or guided, his tanned skin flushed a subtle red as he unbuttons and parts his flannel, adjusting his jeans and underwear down just far enough under his balls that they sit snug against the fabric, his cock intimidatingly large against his even larger hands.

So much with Joel is unspoken, his intensity held in his gaze. Even from your first meeting, there was a look—and even now, he’s got that look. Like he’s trying to decipher you.

He flattens one hand against the bathroom counter as you spread your legs to accommodate him, his other hand grabbing at your ass to pull you near the edge before he’s running his hand down his shaft, the foreskin swallowing up the red, angered tip of his cock before he’s pulling back and rubbing his cock through your folds, gathering the wetness there and pressing inside with a pinched expression on your face, your breath catching as your hand twists into his shirt.

“That hurt?” He asks, his voice taking on a softer tone.

You nod fervently, “Yeah—yeah, it’s—you’re…pretty big,”

You weren’t trying to actively compare the brothers, but the thought passes in your mind and Joel notices the thoughtful look on your face, huffing out a laugh under his breath.

“Good,” That it hurts—he wanted you to feel it tomorrow, that it would be a constant reminder.

He’s a natural masochist, but he wasn’t about not enjoying sex. So, while he savors the soft hiss of pain at first, the dig of your nails into his chest, eventually you relax and turn to curling yourself around him, legs tight around his hips and your arms slung over his shoulders as he presses his forehead into your own and fucks you with a slow, powerful force of thrusts that make the walls shake—surely it would wake his brother, maybe that was what he wanted.

His mouth parted slightly, panting out hot against your skin as he glares at you—into you, through you, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he follows your trailing gaze, the precipice of your pleasure clawing over the edge of their metaphorical walls.

“Yeah, s’right there—isn’t it?” He taunts, a half smirk on his face as he watches you.

Always watching you.

You nod again, feeling the hand that was squeezing at your thigh digging into your skin as he used it for leverage, thrusting into you while he guided your hips toward him, using your body like he had full control over it. His other hand finds your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his hand before he’s rubbing his thumb over the quickly hardening bud, a shiver running down your spine.

There was nowhere to hide with Joel, all imperfections on display as your head lulls back against the mirror, eyes opening to find him matching your expression—somewhat sated but nearing the edge of his own release, he nudges his chin up and speaks, “S’this what gets you off?”

Your brow furrows as you tilt your head, his hand trading your breast for the hand twisted into his shirt, guiding it toward your clit as he gives you a silent order, your fingers circling the sensitive nub.

“Fuckin’ both of us—s’gonna be a hell of an issue when he finds out, you know.”

“Is this what you like—huh, talking about while you fuck?” You counter, “Your brother?”

His jaw shakes slightly as he gaze dips, admiring the way your cunt swallowed him up, his fingers wrapped around the wrist that was working at your clit, toes curling as your knees squeezed into his hips, that heat building in your core.

“I can talk about how he eats pussy better than you,” It’s teasing, an effort to get a rise out of him, “or do you—you wanna hear how he whimpers when he fucks me because he’s so pathetic? Is th—is that what you want?” His hips stuttered with your words, “He’s so much sweeter, you know? S’all soft and kind—”

Nothing like Joel.

His hand seems to loosen at the mention, but you shake your head.

“Oh, don’t ease up now, honey—I never said I liked it.”

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but you didn’t want to hear it, shoving your opposite hand over his mouth as you both spill over the edge, the ache of loss finding you as he pulls out, thick ropes of come panting your stomach as you clench around the emptiness, his teeth digging into the palm of your hand as he groans with his release.

“I’ll handle Tommy,” Joel promises as you both dress, cleaning yourself up as he buttons his shirt, “It’ll be easier coming from me.”

“You don’t have to lie, he should know—”

“I’m not,” He responds quickly, looking up at you through his downturned gaze, “like you said—trust is earned. You’ll earn it.”

How was a mystery—but what other choice did you have?

-

You learn very quickly that Joel was intentional in you earning his trust—not so much Tommy. He wasn’t surprised by your attempt to escape, but the marring of their neighbors—yours too, now—he was slightly disappointed. Hoping that he could spare you the gruesome side of things, that keeping you within the house and under his watch would help save your innocence about the entire ordeal.

But, he quickly finds out that isn’t the case.

And you find out how steady their diet of human meat was, a fridge stocked full of various cuts and textures, unsuspecting to the eye but you knew—and truthfully, the sickness dissipates after a month of eating that way. Tommy will occasionally skip a day or two, sometimes even a week.

Whereas Joel, he’s fully accepted his ways.

“How does it work?” You ask curiously, night has crept in and left both you and Joel, who you’ve gradually drifted toward lately, aware of Tommy’s lingering touches and fighting that feeling of betrayal on both ends—Tommy never seemed to mind you favoring Joel, even indirectly. However, Joel was territorial, overwhelmingly so. You wished you disliked it, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“How’s what work?” He asks, legs spread wide on the couch as take a seat beside him, legs curled under your body and the fire crackling beside you, his hair wet from a recent shower and his shirt sticking to his skin, “Tommy’s job?”

You nod quietly, chewing on a piece of dried meat, akin to jerky. 

You’ve willingly succumbed to the lifestyle over the past few weeks, partly to blame on Joel, but mostly out of your own morbid curiosity, finding that it wasn’t all that bad as the nauseous and general sickness fell dormant. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Joel answers bluntly, but honest, “He’s got some kinda system going, I do my job—cuttin’ things up, mindin’ my business. I just know it makes us damn good money.”

You wouldn’t be able to tell outside of their house, but they kept things well within the interior—they owned nice things, you assumed they were out of debt and had money saved back, but they lived beneath their means as much as possible. 

Joel liked a quiet life, you could tell. 

“I could help out more, you know.”

Outside of your general duties and decent pay—it felt lacking, like you could be doing more.

Neither of the brothers kept you chained or trapped, that much was obvious. And you didn’t feel the lingering threat of something to come, the need to run—the feeling of security was something you had searched out for a while and oddly, they provided that. 

In some sick, fucked up way, you felt protected. 

“Stock is runnin’ low,” Joel debates, his thumb circling the beer bottle between his legs, while his other trails along his bottom lip in thought, “I got an idea, dunno if Tommy’s gonna like it.”

“Who cares what he thinks?” You reply, “He cowers like a puppy when it comes to you.”

It was essentially a lure and catch situation—Joel never strayed too far, always on the outskirts while you found the next willing victim, it was always you approaching them, never the opposite. You were in full control and under very specific orders. 

Never people in town, always the stragglers. The more meek and unsuspecting the better, but it varied—after a couple months, Joel doesn’t even bother to stick around, sitting in his truck while you finish up the job.

And you’ve learned over time just how different Tommy and Joel are—Tommy prefers seclusion in the extremist of ways, more subdued with his affection when Joel was around and didn’t argue with him in your presence, almost like he was attempting to shield you.

Joel is out late in the barn when Tommy crowds you in the kitchen, a curious and longing stare out the window at the closed barn door, his tell-tale throat clearing as his hands wrap around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as you sip gingerly at the glass of water in your hands.

“M’glad you feel safe here,” Tommy murmurs into your skin, a soft peppering of kisses along your spine as he moves the material of your shirt out of the way, his fingers slipping beyond the thick waistband of your pants, shoving them down wordlessly, “ready for bed?”

“Not yet,” You admit, letting the silence linger before you speak again, “Can I ask you something—and I’m just curious, I swear.”

Tommy makes a noise of approval. 

“What happened to my car?” A laugh bubbles up at the thought and Tommy laughs too.

“I mighta sold it for scraps when you agreed to stayin’ with us long term. I was meaning to tell you, but you never asked…so I figured…”

Who cares, right? Truly, it was a piece of shit anyways.

You laugh softly at his advances as they grow more needy, your arm curling behind you to flex your fingers in his outgrown hair, “I want you to fuck me here,” You admit, his eyes peeking open as he leans over your shoulder to look at you, a salacious smile on your face as you lean back, rubbing your ass against his cock, growing hard underneath the confines of his sweats, before you turn to face him, “like this—right here.”

Fortunately, it takes very little convincing. He’s impatient in his movements, only getting both of your pants down before he’s pushing the head of his cock inside of you, a welcomed but comfortable stretch before his cock is fully seated inside of you, walls squeezing down tight as he buries his face into your clothed chest, your hands cradling his head as he rocks into you at a gentle pace.

“God, I’m never gonna get tired’f this,” Tommy groans weakly, a hand gripping tight at your hip as he quickens his thrusts, one hand falling back on the counter to support the forceful angle of his movements, laughing breathlessly at his comment, his head rises to look at you with complete and full admiration, “I’m serious, baby.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You assure him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that quickly divulges into an open-mouthed exploration as you trade sounds, feeling Tommy teeter closer to the edge of his own orgasm as his fingers drift against your clit, always assuring that you were taken care of first—it doesn’t take long, hands gripping the curtain above the sink as your whine loudly against his ministrations. 

Tommy is too distracted to hear the quiet creak of the door, but you’re not. The lights are off, only granting you a silhouette of Joel, but you know—he’s smirking to himself, closing the door behind him quietly as he freezes for a moment, seemingly locking eyes with your sated expression, your orgasm hitting you just as he passes down the hall, his face coming into view for a brief moment.

It was pathetic, how quickly your mind drifted to him even while his brother was buried inside of you, your grip on the curtain tightens, pulling the rod from the wall and sending it clanging down against the sink as it startles you back to reality, feeling Tommy’s hips stutter before he’s pulling out and you sink to the ground instinctively, lips wrapping around his cock as he releases the warmth of his cum against your tongue, a heady but tolerable taste that slides down your throat with ease. 

Joel is already gone by the time you rise to your feet, redressing quietly as Tommy examines the broken curtain with a subdued chuckle, tossing the few pieces of sheetrock in the trash.

“Sorry,” You wince, looking at him apologetically.

Tommy grins, his thumb rubbing down the center of your chin in a comforting way as he shrugs, waving it off, “Easy fix.”

The difference between the two is simple to spot after a while—Joel’s leniency with things comes to a head as Tommy’s rigidness battles for dominance. He doesn’t make it a habit to put his foot down often, but he was already increasingly hesitant as you started luring people back to the farm—while thankful, it was dangerous. You were good at it, without fail, but something was bound to implode.

–

“She’s earned it, you know,” Joel fights for you, the usual recluse encourages a night-out—a real one, no work, just pure enjoyment, “Ain’t much trouble to get into there.”

The bar, he means. With how often you frequented it now, it was like a second home.

You were coming up on your sixth month mark of living with the Millers, finding the stragglers came in like a cycle, every few weeks, and the town was due for more.

Tommy squints cautiously, turning in the desk chair as the heel of his boot scuffs against the flooring, “An hour—only an hour, don’t need you stickin’ out like a sore thumb.”

Joel, he means. He rolls his eyes in response, dressed more casual than you’ve ever seen him. It was a simple pair of jeans and a dark-colored shirt, but it made him seem normal.

It was unsettling.

“Don’t worry,” Joel smirks, “No one’ll touch her.”

Except him, you think.

Tommy wasn’t oblivious to your odd affection toward Joel, but he wasn’t privy to every detail. He didn’t know how often you snuck into Joel’s bed at night, sometimes after being on his own before that, the devouring looks and purposeful touches that always happened behind his back.

Joel knows you find comfort in Tommy, but there was something missing.

Something lacking.

Tommy eventually relents and you arrive at the bar a half hour later, Joel in tow.

And it is mostly uneventful, drinking amongst the other patrons with the loud rumble of music drowning out far away voices—Joel was stoic, like a bodyguard over your shoulder as he seemed to people watch, like he often did.

“You’re doing it again,” You tell him, peering up at him from your seat as he glances down, his glass pressing to his lips, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from the occasional townsperson, seemingly shocked to see him. 

“No I’m not,” He argues, tapping his finger against your lips before he’s guiding the glass to your lips, a wordless order to silence yourself, “Drink, enjoy it—or all that beggin’ was for nothin’.”

Eventually, Joel lets you wander.

Even if it was to dance lazily a few feet away, practically begging him to join you with your hand outstretched, a constant scowl on his face as he refused. But, eventually someone takes that offer for him, obstructing his view with a grin—an older gentleman with wiry hair and rotted teeth.

There’s a few moments of uncomfortable movement before you’re making an excuse to flee toward Joel who snickers at your discomfort, a hand wrapping at your waist to pull you between his legs as the man, persistent as you suspected, approaches beside you.

“Tommy finally let his dog out of the house?” He asks over you, staring Joel down.

Joel chuckles at that, subdued as his hand tightens against your waist, hiding your own giggle behind a sip of beer.

“C’mon, sweetheart—I’ll show you a better time than this guy. Wouldn’t know how to care for a nice piece of ass like that—him or his damn brother.”

Joel stands then, without warning as he towers over the man and you as he forces you into the seat, “Get the fuck out of here,” It was the only warning he was offering, but it strikes fear through the man without fail, sending him scurrying off for the moment.

“Tommy’s gonna kill you when he finds out about that,” You comment as Joel approaches at your back, maneuvering you out of the seat to settle between his legs again, his large palm settling against your stomach as he pulls you against him, spotting the man again from across the room, staring you both down with hardened eyes.

“What he doesn't know won’t hurt him,” Joel argues, the surprising press of his lips against your neck as you jump at the touch, calmed by his reassuring words, “Gonna scare him off, alright?”

“How—” You’re cut off on a gasp as his hand travels up your shirt, squeezing at your breast as his teeth dig into your skin, mouth hung open as you stumble back against him, eyes fluttering closed at the stinging pinch of Joel’s teeth, hard enough that you fear it breaking through the skin

Surely, it does. 

As Joel raises his head and catches sight of the man’s widened eyes, he scurries off. He’s not amiss to your reaction to the bite, fingers clawing into his skin, moaning at the action. Really, he should’ve expected it.

“Turn around,” He orders, spinning you on your feet before you can react on your own, catching sight of your dilated pupils as you stare at him wondrously, a smile growing on your face as his impatience grows.

He ignores your wandering hands that crawl up his arms, gripping onto his large biceps before he’s hauling you out of the bar without a word, arm twisted behind your back as you tumble on your feet toward his truck parked in the far back of the parking lot, far away from the roar of music.

“Did I do something—oh,” You squeak, jumping back at the creak of the drivers’ side door as he sandwiches you between the seat and him, “wrong—Joel, did I—”

You’re stuttering but he isn’t answering and you begin to crawl to your side of the seat before he’s stopping you in your tracks, feet pressing against the step bar of the truck while the upper half of your body curls against the seat—and Joel, with his large and threatening presence, towers.

He works at the belt in your jeans, turning your head over your shoulder as he rips the leather from the loops of your pants, “Put your hands on the steering wheel,” He orders and you follow suit, watching as he quietly tightened the belt around your hands and through the steering wheel, rendering you immobile from the waist up.

“Wait—right here? But, there’s people—”

Never stopped you before,” He comments and your face heats at the mention, having never brought up the instance with you and Tommy until now, “I’m not a fan of waiting and I’m not against takin’ you in front of my brother—rather not, but…”

“You like having me to yourself,” You finish for him, a hum of acknowledgement following. 

Joel yanks at your jeans until they fall to your ankles, pulling them off alongside your shoes and underwear as he tosses them over your head and into the passenger seat, sinking to his knees without a word as he parts your legs, licking into your with warning as you gasp, your hands yanking against the leather belt.

He squeezes your ass in his hands, spreading you open as he dips his tongue inside of you, forcing you up on your toes as you curse into the seat of his truck, forehead pressing into the fabric as your hands are stretched over your head. 

He’s got an idea…a lingering suspicion as he trails his lips along the inside of your legs, never quite kissing or lingering, just a slow drag before he’s digging his teeth into your skin, a sharp pain that makes your pussy clench, his eyes locked on the action as he bites down. 

Instinctively, you yank against the binds, the urgency growing as he bites down more, picking various places along your legs until he decides to bite into the fleshy cheek of your ass, purposefully breaking the skin—the tiniest drop of blood pooling at the surface before he licks it away. 

He repeats the process, trading between bites and licking at your cunt until your orgasm catches you by surprise, panting against the seat as you catch your breath with his satisfied presence looming behind. 

Quietly, he rustles with his belt and slides into you without a word until he’s got his hand tucked up under your chin, wrapped around your throat as he presses you against the seat with his chest, turning your head to the side to catch your already fucked-out expression, more turned on from the biting than the fact that his dick was finally inside of you.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Joel remarks, watching the smile spread across your face, “You like it when I bite you? The pain?”

You shake your head with a soft hum, “S’nice, but I like you marking your territory.” You watch his face morph into something indecipherable as you laugh, “Got you really riled up in there, didn’t it?”

“Gotta let them know to lead you back to me if you go runnin’ off again,” Joel taunts, grunting against the shell of your ear as your walls squeeze down when the head of his cock nudges at a particular spot inside of you that steals your breath away, “Yeah—that? That right there?”

You nod weakly, wishing you could touch him—claw at his skin, grab on and take hold, but you were left helpless. Though, somehow it was more comforting this way. Joel was increasingly careful of the authority you tried to hold over him, never allowing you to have the upper hand—and you didn’t mind it.

Again, it was the stark difference between he and Tommy, who’d be willing to bend to your will if you asked, eager to please you, but with Joel, it was kismet. He always knew what you were thinking before you even spoke about it.

And as the ache in your wrist grows into full discomfort he releases them without a word of acknowledgement, lips parted with bated breath as you turn until your back is pressing into the seat, legs wrapping around his waist as he hoists you up with his brute strength, releasing a loud moan of expressive pleasure as you surge forward, pressing your lips against his before he can object, licking into his mouth with profound eagerness as his nails dig into the skin at your hips, his balls tightening with an impending release as he returns the wet, sloppy exchange of lips.

It stalls him for a moment, the sensual pace of your lips pulling his focus up, your tongue twirling around his own before they trail to his lips, your lips dragging down his chin, along his jaw, before you’re biting against where his jugular would be hiding under his skin, not nearly hard enough to cause any damage but enough to have his eyes rolling back and his hips stuttering.

“Don’t—don’t pull out,” You tell him through a murmur, running your tongue along the mark in a soothing gesture, catching his gaze as he looks at you, “What? Are you scared, Joel?”

Not scared—Joel wasn’t sure he could emulate that emotion anymore, but it was far too personal for his liking, even with the few partners he’s had in his life he’s never crested beyond that, purposeful in his abhorrence distaste of kids or the possibility of, but you have him completely under your spell and he shakes his head.

“S’just you—wouldn’t want it to be anyone but you.” You assure him, his expression softening as your thumb trails along his bottom lip, eyes locked on his own as his thrusts stuttering through his own orgasm, face pinching at his brow, your breathy moans guiding him through as he pumps your pussy full, feel the warmth seep down as he eventually pulls out, his cum sliding down the inside of your thighs.

“Get in the car,” Joel instructs as he tries to catch his breath.

His silence on the ride home is deafening.

–

Joel is more stoic and pensive over the following weeks—spring is always harder on the business, or so he says, and selling overseas picks up quicker, it wasn’t something they could explain but it was a constant trend; high demand, high reward. It was quite stressful, really.

So stressful that eventually things are beginning to run thin and you become the source of stress relief for both of them—in different ways, but nonetheless.

Tommy would rather cuddle up with you on the couch while you lull him to sleep with your magic fingers, dragging through his hair—it was gentle caresses and quiet conversation that he found comfort in, but Joel was always unpredictable.

Sometimes it was just sharing a meal—his weird obsession with feeding you; providing, in a way? You couldn’t make sense of it, but it never made you feel uncomfortable.

“Have you ever gotten a bad batch?”

“We’re careful,” Joel reminds you, “It’s why we test all of ‘em before we go through the process.”

“Is that why you sent me?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

You stare at him blankly, waiting.

“Yeah—we had to make sure you’re clean.”

“But now?” You push, your tongue pressing against the underside of the fork as he brings it to your lips.

“I trust you,” Joel admits, “You’ve kept up your end of the deal.”

It was conversations like this that led to Joel’s affinity toward you, a drunken night several weeks later leading you both outside after Tommy had already fallen asleep, walking backwards as your fists curled into Joel’s shirt as his hand cupped your head, licking into your mouth as he unintentionally led you toward the barn door, both of you separating as your back hit the creaking wood.

You pull apart, peering curiously over your shoulder and attempting to look through the cracks, awaiting Joel’s reprimand that never comes. 

“You wanna see inside?” He asks curiously.

“You’re fucking with me—”

“It’s a yes or no, darlin’.”

“Yes—yesyes, I do.” You spit out quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and snakes it into the lock, unlocking and prying the door open, met with full and complete darkness as he leads you inside, his chest close at your back.

He reaches blindly for the lights out of memory and you’re engulfed in the blaring lights of a spotless room—almost like a medical office with the array of equipment lining the walls and the long embedded tables, something reminiscent of what you would see at a mortuary for draining bodies and embalming, probably to help with the mess.

You sniff slightly, curious about the lack of smell as the door closes.

“That’s partly the animals, but we dispose of some of the shit the pigs can’t eat out behind the barn.”

“Like what?” You stare at him incredulously, eyes wide.

“Clothes, shoes—s’why we have the barrels burning every couple weeks when the stench gets too bad.” He spots your itch to explore, that glistening curiosity in your eyes as you relax at his answer, “Go on, look ‘round.”

You’re not ignorant to the absence of bodies—it was confusing to see a place so clean come from a man who always left work looking like he had brought half of it home with him.

There’s an array of knives and confusing cutting devices that you trail your fingers along, a bonesaw lying against the table lining the shelves, a stack of papers with faces and names, various info that you took a glancing look at, attempting to avoid the idea of putting names to faces and treating the people as anything other than product—it was how Joel lived, as disconnected and separate from the ideas possible.

“Usually it’s messier in here,” Joel admits, your lips parting in a surprised gasp as he presses his lips to your neck, “—we can fix that, though.”

“Joel Miller,” You respond in a scandalized tone, “what exactly are you implying?”

“I’ve got a room upstairs,” Your eyes flick up, spotting the loft overhead—that would explain the long nights when you wouldn’t see him at all, his comfort with being more openly affectionate outside of sex has grown slowly, turning your head to face his over your shoulder as his gaze trails up in another silent question, “unless you’ve got another idea—m’just dyin’ to get inside of you, honey.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in faux thought, already knowing your answer as you were brimming with excitement, resisting the urge to drag him after you.

“Yeah?” You tease, his lips pressing against your soft, kissing you soundly.

“Yeah,” He responds against your mouth, a rare moment of calm, a sweet exchange before he’s chasing after you with a swift slap to your ass.

–

It was essentially an extension of his bedroom, cozy and homey, you find yourself stretching out on the rug rather than the couch, watching as he carefully kneeled to the floor, cursing his achy knees as you giggle, spreading your legs open to invite him in.

“The things you do for me,” You joke, slowly unbutton his flannel as he yanks you towards him, knees falling against his hips as his palms grip either side of your, his thumbs rubbing against the soft skin underneath your shirt, “careful—I might think you love me.”

“If that’s what you want,” Joel replies easily, stripping your shirt over your head as your breasts bounce free, removing your jeans with the same impatience before he’s immediately latching his lips onto your breasts and lazily trading off, biting teasingly into the skin as he looks up to gauge your reaction.

If Tommy notices Joel’s evidence that he leaves, he never says anything. Perhaps it was unspoken, maybe they’ve talked it out—it was information you weren’t privy to, but you didn’t question it. He could smell his brother all over you and he was dying to rid you of it, baring his teeth as he bit into the flesh of your breast, a satisfied hum coming from you in response.

“Do you want that?” Joel asks again, “To be loved—ain’t somethin’ you’ve felt much, is it?”

Quietly, you shake your head.

“Well, you’ve got my brother by the balls,” He chuckles knowingly, “I’m sure he’d marry you if you asked—I ain’t good with words, but I can show you—”

Curious, you watch as he stands, grabbing a sharpened knife off the end table before he’s returning to you, “Somethin’ my parents passed down to me—never used, just like lookin’ at it.”

“We’re not about to Romeo and Juliet ourselves, are we?” You joke lightly, half-serious.

Joel grins wide at that, a full belly laugh following as he slices his palm with a squint of pain before he’s allowing the blood to pool in his hand as beckons you forward with a finger. You rise on your palms and stare curiously before he’s directing his hand to your mouth, lips parting wordlessly as the deep crimson hits your tongue, eyes falling shut as you sucked at the wound.

You were so accustomed to the rich, irony taste that it isn’t even a surprise, moaning as the blood slides down your throat and his fingers curl, squeezing more blood out for you to consume before he’s sliding his hand over your mouth and down your chin, stopping against your chest as he smears it with blood, one-handed as he shrugs his flannel off and rips his shirt over his head, tearing the fabric apart in strips like butter, not a sign of struggle.

He ties the fabric around his wound before he’s wordlessly handing you the knife.

“My hand?” You ask curiously.

“S’up to you,” He admits—the wordless blood trade vowing his affection toward you.

It was something far deeper than love, you think. Devotion. Loyalty. 

“Wherever?” Your eyebrow raises as Joel seems to clock the moment the idea comes into your head, trailing the blade along the inside of your thigh, up your stomach, along your breasts.

Eventually the tip of the blade finds a spot against your inner thigh, Joel’s hand careful adjusting your placing as he speaks, “Careful, there’s an artery there,” Further down, you brave the initial sting and slice through the skin, watching as the blood rose to the surface and Joel quickly descends, knife clattering to the floor as he sucks the flesh between his lips, his tongue lapping against your skin.

It’s euphoric, the feeling. So intense you could descend into madness as Joel eagerly lapped up the blood, even as he pulled away going back for a second time, a third, rising with blood stained lips and the crimson liquid pooling on his tongue as he pulls you toward him, mixing the taste of his blood with your own as he kisses you, a messy exchange of fluids as you claw at his skin, rising to your knees to match him.

Silently, you work at his jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them down his lips alongside his underwear—Joel works them the rest of the way before you’re pulling the hand supporting him over you out from under him, straddling him into the rug as your cunt sat directly over his cock, feeling him grow harder underneath you, a sight to behold with blood dripping down the corner of his mouth.

“I want more,” You tell him honestly, his cock twitching at the words, reaching for the knife laying beside his head, “Can I have more?”

Joel nods wordlessly, slightly breathless.

It was a trading battle of surface wounds, just enough to spill blood but nothing deep enough to cause any damage—surely looking insane as you straddled him with a smile, blood-stained lips yearning for more. Joel has a drunken haze to his expression, committing the sight to memory as he squeezes at your hips, rutting his cock between your soaked folds.

“Enough,” He says softly, barely above a mumble as he tosses the knife aside, rolling you underneath him before he’s sliding home inside of you, a hand cradling the back of your head while the other gripped at your knee, pulling it high over his hip, near his chest as he thrusts into you, a controlled but needy pace that was followed by low, pitiful groans of pleasure.

You’d broken this man.

His head was buried in your neck, your hand trailing down his back as you squeeze into the flesh of his ass, the fingers off your opposite hand carding through his hair, pulling gently at his curls.

“Got so much of me inside you now,” He breathes into your skin, “fuck—I’d eat your right up, baby.”

Despite his obvious lifestyle, your laugh is careless and light.

“Greedy,” You note, “I’ve already given you a taste and you’re asking for more?”

He doesn’t respond, not really. His hips are sharp, forceful as his cock spears itself inside of you, rubbing against the sensitive spot inside of you, eyes fluttering shut as it overwhelms you.

“Take a bite,” You encourage him, “f’that’s what you want.”

A real one.

Enough to scar, to leave a permanent mark and reminder of him.

One, two—you didn’t care.

His teeth drag over your breasts, tongue trailing around your hardened nipple before he’s biting into the skin at the top of you breasts, a gasp ripping from your throat as your walls flutter around him, tightening at the pain that slowly transfers to pleasure, glancing down at the small gash and trail of teeth marks in your skin. 

He’s admiring, finger running over the wound before he’s rising on his knees, continuing the thrusts of his hips but slowing as he reaches for your hand, pulling you upright again.

“You–do you want me to?” You ask cautiously, feeling the blood from your wound trail down your chest, “Are you sure?”

“Ain’t never been sure ‘bout nothin’,” Joel admits, “but—this…yeah, I want it.”

It shouldn’t make you hesitate, but it doesn’t. He isn’t emotional or forceful—it was like a plea, disguised behind his facade of stoicness. He needed this devotion just as bad as you. He needed someone to put his own trust into.

When your teeth dig into his side, he hisses, his right hand cradling your head as the other curls tightly into a fist, your face pinching up as you bite beyond the first layer of flesh and taste the liquid against your tongue.

He pulls you away eventually, looking down at you with a newfound expression.

This was love—not the lust you were used to seeing.

The rest of the evening is quiet, his pace gentler before he brings you to a slow orgasm, coming inside of you nearly seconds after with a soft moan, persistent that the wounds needed to be cleaned immediately after a few moments of rest.

He tapes it away with a gentle care after cleaning and applying an ointment to fight away any possible infection, snorting at how fatherly it all seemed, even helping you situation your top back on.

“At least we spared the rug,” You break the silence, “guess you aren’t as messy as I thought.”

“Oh, I can be,” He assures you, noticing the scabbed up bit of your lip that had become victim when he’d bit into your, biting down to silence yourself. Just a small movement and the wound reopens, completely unintentional but he sucks the blood away from your bottom lip in a soothing gesture before he kisses you soundly.

You only hoped the bliss would last.

–

Eventually, the implosion comes. But, instead of gradual—it was all at once.

Tommy’s birthday was supposed to be a quiet affair, something at home, between the three of you, not having time to celebrate during the week on his actual birthday like you had planned—but eventually Tommy finds himself antsy and Joel senses your annoyance as he keeps finding excuses to slip away or cancel. He encourages Tommy to go off on his own, leaving you both sprawled out on his bed after a rousing round of sex that leaves you both sweaty and breathless, resting your arm against his chest as you stare at him, “What’s up with him lately?”

“He’s good at acting, isn’t he?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a reason he keeps to the books, you know—why I do my job alone.”

Your eyebrow raises in a silent effort to urge him to continue.

“When I’m angry, you’ll know—” That much was obvious, having been on the receiving end plenty, but Tommy—it was unnatural to see anything but his kind, bright smile.

“He’s my brother—but there’s plenty of shit you haven’t seen yet. And I think it’s unfair that he’s actin’ like things are normal, like he can keep that act up, but something’s gotta give—”

“So what, is he like…a psychopath or something?”

Joel’s silence is telling, jumping up from your spot as you settle on your knees.

“He’s a fucking psychopath?”

“No—no,” Joel excuses, your face contorting into a mix of confusion and amusement.

“You took a long time to answer that.”

“He has episodes—periods of time where he ain’t himself. I can’t explain it and my parents refused to take him to the doctor—you know, backwoods folk and all. If we had a problem we toughed it out.”

“So, he’s got anger issues?”

Joel shakes his head, lips pursed into a tight line.

“He’s killed a couple people—by accident.  Least, that’s what he calls it. Tried killing me a few times, too. I’ve always been good at talking him off that ledge, thankfully. M’not trying to turn you against him but I’ve grown up around him, I know how to handle it.”

It was a lot of information to consume at once, still naked in Joel’s sheets as you adjust to sit more comfortably, a small peek at the scar near his ribcage as the sheets shift down.

“He’s lucky we do what we do—he’d probably be in jail otherwise, I’m just telling you because—“

“If it came down to me and him, you’d choose him.”

Joel pauses, his face softened as his lips downturn.

“It’s okay,” You shrug, “Let’s just hope it never comes to that.”

Truthfully, Joel wasn’t sure anymore.

After years with Tommy, he’d grown tired. It was exhausting, fighting between the battling personalities that lived within his brother.

“C’mere,” He beckons, your nose scrunching up as you grin, fitting your face between his waiting hands as he pulls you back over him, kissing you slowly.

A gentle calm before the storm.

–

The arguing is what wakes you first, not the roar of the truck, voices trailing toward the barn.

The bed is empty too, not a single remnant of Joel in sight.

But, you hear him. Loud, angry.

By the time you’re outside the barn is already closed, illuminated by the light inside as you pry the heavy door open, several underdressed with only a shirt to cover the underwear clinging tight to your skin, bare feet digging into the dirt as your feet scuff against the cement and the door falls shut behind you.

“She doesn’t need to know, Joel!” Tommy’s voice cracks, a slight slur to his speech.

He’s drunk, clearly.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Tommy—one night and you pull this shit? It’s exactly why dad had a tight leash on your ass for so many years—”

“Need to know what?” You ask suddenly, breaking through the tension as your head peeks around the corner, both of their heads whipping toward you, Joel moving subtly to block the body that you spot on the table, eyes widening. 

It had always been something you and Joel had managed together—Tommy had never shown an interest, didn’t seem to care, but this…

“I’m just tryin’ to carry my weight ‘round here—is that why you like him more?” Tommy asks suddenly, his eyes glazed over and dark as you step forward.

“I invite you into our home—give you a place to stay. I—I stuck up for you when he wanted to throw you out and you chose him? My own fuckin’ brother?”

“He’s drunk,” Joel states blankly, almost dismissive of his rant.

“No—no, let’s show it off, Joel.”

Tommy comes at you with a knife, slicing it down the middle of your shirt as you struggle against him, ripping the fabric away and showing off the healing scar on your chest.

“What happened to no attachments, Joel? No baggage?”

As Joel moves toward Tommy to remove the knife, he lunges at Joel and pushes him out of the way, leaving you with a clear view of the woman laying on the table, an eerie resemblance to yourself as your eyes widen, stepping toward the table as you glance over the body—unmoving, still. She was already too far gone, with no signs of what Tommy had actually done to her.

Your head snaps up at the brawling brothers, screaming for the attention to break through their rage, Joel burying his knee into Tommy’s back to subdue him.

“Why her?” You ask him—Tommy, looking directly at him as you point to the lifeless body.

“Get the fuck off me—” He argues through gritted teeth, attempting to shake his brother off him.

“Why—her?” You stress again, walking forward to crouch in front of him, uncaring of how your body was bared to him in your vulnerability.

“Thought I could give Joel his own version of you to play with—but she wasn’t cooperating. That what you wanna hear? I had you first—motherfucker won’t let me have a single thing to myself.”

“Let him up,” You instruct Joel, backing away slightly.

As Tommy stands, you approach him, his face tight and unrecognizable. 

He reeked of alcohol and sweat, a stench of something else that made the bile in your stomach rise, “I never chose, you both had me. You would continue to have me, but this—Tommy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ lecture me, not you,” He bites.

You stare at him with a growing sadness, “You’re drunk—really, really drunk. You’re gonna sleep this off and you’ll regret everything you’re saying right now, I know it. I know you.”

Something seems to snap in Tommy—attempting to rip away from Joel as you scramble toward the floor.

Tommy gets a solid right hook in, something that, if any normal person would have delivered would have left Joel unphased, but Tommy had his advantages, similar in size and stature to Joel, it was barely a fight as Joel dropped to the ground, hitting hard enough that both of you freeze, a slow ring of blood pooling from his head as your chest clinches in a mix of anger and resentment, but your body flinging into flight mode, fleeing while Tommy has distracted by the possibility that he killed his own brother.

Unfamiliar with the place you scramble to hide, unsure if running off would help after your last try, squeezing into a closet buried in the back corner behind a pile of yard tools and mowers, watching as Tommy dropped to the ground.

You could hear him mumbling to himself—a mix of self-assuring words and back and forth conversation, as if someone was responding to every word he offered.

“He’s dead—yeah I killed him,” He mumbles, “if I—if I chop him up, chop her up. Fuck,” His head whips over his shoulder, realizing you were gone, “gotta find her—but Joel, deal with him first.”

Your eyes widen at the firsthand witnessing of exactly what Joel had admitted to you—like some kind of bad omen of what was to come, you sunk down into the darkness and hide yourself away, watching as Tommy roamed around for tools, not a moment of hesitation as he intended to follow through on his plans with Joel’s lifeless body awaiting it’s demise.

It feels wrong, tossing a bone saw aside carelessly as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, flailing tools around wildly, a knife clattering so far away that it lands near your feet, small enough to wrap your fist around as you grab it quietly, awaiting Tommy’s approach to Joel.

Sometimes takes over, not entirely yourself as you crawl from the spot you were hidden in and lunge at Tommy, planting the knife between his shoulder blades as pressed the blade against his own brother’s neck, his blood curdling scream ripping through the barn as he dropped to his knees.

“You bitch,” He groans, shouting out in pain as you remove the knife and sink into his spine, a few seconds of struggle before he slumps to the ground, his eyes dragging toward your shaking frame, bloodied hands rubbing your hair away from your face as you stare down at Tommy’s face, his lips parting as he gasped for air but instead find blood dripping from his mouth.

You drop to your knees, the air stolen from your own lungs but for different reasons.

Both of them dead, within a matter of minutes and it was all your fault.

“Fuck, fuck–” You cry, slamming your fist into cement, but quickly startled by the rousing beside Tommy, almost blaming it on a break in your psyche before Joel is mumbling your name, pressing his fingers into his temple as blood coats his fingers, a sizeable gash on the side of his head as he sits, slowly picking apart the sight before him.

“Oh, honey—what did you do?” Joel asks, glancing down at Tommy’s lifeless body and up at you—surprisingly, there wasn’t an ounce of anger.

“He thought—he thought you were dead, he had a knife at your throat,” You rambled in a panic, “He kept saying he was going to chop you up—chop me up. I don’t know, I fucking panicked.”

Joel remains wordless, staring into the deep abyss of blood pooling on the floor.

“I’m so—I’m sorry. I’m,” The emotion is like a tidal wave, “Joel—I panicked. I swear—”

Joel grimaces against the sharp sting of pain as he reaches for your face, his blood covered hand pressing against your face, fingertips wrapping around the back of your head as he forces you to lock eyes with him.

“Look at me,” He demands, waiting until your eyes lock on him, “This is the part where you promise—and I mean promise, that you won’t fuckin’ run off.”

“No—never. Never, not,” You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut to blink away the thick tears, “Never again, Joel. I promise.”

“We handle this together,” He explains, ��I’ll protect you but you have to say it.”

“Anything,” You nod, leaning forward on your hands to move closer to him.

“Say you’re loyal to me—that you’ll listen and do whatever I ask, without question.”

“I am—I am. Joel, I’m loyal to you. I love—I love you. I need you to know that.”

Joel sighs, head bowing.

“I would have chosen you over him. I couldn’t admit that to myself earlier, but I’m telling you now. Tommy’s always been a manipulator, I tried warnin’ you. Months ago.”

You ain’t the first, you won’t be the last.

“I won’t run. I promise, Joel.” You assure him, because with Joel you felt that protection.

A silence falls before you speak again.

“What happens now?”

“You follow my lead, that’s all I need.”

[pedge-page]

does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂

I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....

Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife

Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways

- - - -

You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--

"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"

-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.

"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"

He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.

"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."

Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.

Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.

Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"

"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.

Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"

I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.

"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"

"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.

"W-what?"

"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.

"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."

you swallow. "'Scuse me?"

"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"

"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.

"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.

"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.

It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.

"What will it be, Thomas."

He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.

He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.

-

"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.

"Ah... no--no that's okay--"

"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."

"Okay. T-thank you."

Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.

"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.

"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.

Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.

"What can I make you for dinner?"

"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"

"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "

You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.

This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???

And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???

You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.

Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?

The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.

He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.

"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"

"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"

"S-sorry--"

"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."

"Im not really a slippers guy..."

"You are now."

You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.

And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.

Was... Joel the problem?

After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.

He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.

Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.

He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"

He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.

He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.

"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"

You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.

He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"

"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.

He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.

Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.

He rubs your arm soothingly.

"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"

"He aint leave ya, just had some work."

"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"

He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.

like a crying toddler indeed.

"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.

"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--

"Can you get the jar of pickles?"

That...is fine too.

He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.

You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"

He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.

"It's probably from the baby..."

"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.

Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.

"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."

THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????

He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.

Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.

-

The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.

Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.

"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.

And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.

Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.

"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.

Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.

"Just three waters, please,"

"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"

The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."

"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.

Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.

She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).

You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.

The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.

You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"

"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.

"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"

"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.

Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.

"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.

You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--

"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.

Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"

You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[thetriumphantpanda]

two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.

Word Count | 4.2k

Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.

That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t. 

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense. 

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it. 

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative. 

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head. 

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh. 

“What if we ask Joel?” 

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.” 

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” 

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran. 

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.” 

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?” 

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.” 

 “What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” 

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.” 

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?” 

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick. 

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks. 

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.” 

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.” 

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.” 

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all. 

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?” 

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?” 

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.” 

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable. 

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.” 

“You don’t trust him?” 

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.” 

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.” 

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper. 

“He said yes.” 

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms. 

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.” 

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.  

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet. 

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening. 

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. 

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug. 

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night. 

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip. 

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?” 

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed. 

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?” 

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.” 

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him. 

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit. 

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it. 

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.” 

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.” 

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked. 

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single. 

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….” 

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room. 

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.” 

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath. 

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you. 

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.” 

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress. 

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks. 

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far. 

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.” 

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin. 

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.” 

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt. 

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt. 

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?” 

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.” 

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it. 

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.” 

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you. 

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.” 

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply. 

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself. 

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.” 

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest. 

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious. 

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close. 

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.” 

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take. 

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip. 

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm. 

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.” 

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep. 

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.” 

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.” 

Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him. 

[sugarcoated-lame]

ok ok hear me out.. pre-outbreak tommy miller x sarah’s teacher!reader 👀

joel is stuck picking up some materials for a new job and he knows he’s not gonna make it to the school in time to pick up sarah, so he sends tommy in his place.

you’re used to seeing sarah’s very handsome father each day when you walk your class out of school, exchanging pleasantries with the charming, if not a bit reserved, joel miller. always there amongst the throng of parents, waiting to greet his little girl and ask her how her day went, lifting her heavy backpack onto his own shoulder before waving you goodbye and heading on their way home.

so you’re surprised when you don’t see him on this particular day, your heart falling at the disappointed look on little sarah’s face as she too searches for him.

only to be even more surprised a few moments later when the little girl gasps in excitement before taking off without warning, head of fluffy curls bouncing as she runs to meet another man whose definitely not her father, although there’s something of a resemblance there — all tall and dark flowing curls, and bright, beaming smile framed by a nice mustache — as he walks up the school’s walkway, and practically knocks him over as she wraps herself around him in a hug.

sarah all but drags the man over to you, a toothy grin on her face as she introduces you to her ‘uncle tommy’, who you find out is in fact joel’s younger brother, who’s just as handsome — maybe even more so — and twice as charming.

tommy wasn’t expecting sarah’s teacher to be so damn pretty — joel sure never mentioned it — and he doesn’t hesitate to lay on the charm. asking your name, calling you ‘doll’, telling you what a great teacher his niece always tells him you are, even sending a wink your way before him and sarah make their way across the street to his truck and — oh my god, was he flirting with you?

you spend the next few weeks thinking about him; try as you might not to, his pretty brown eyes and bright smile, those gorgeous freckles and his charming texan drawl, are caught in the back of your mind and just won’t seem to leave. but, things seem to have returned to the normal and you doubt you’ll ever see tommy again since it’s sarah’s father, joel, who’s been picking her up from school everyday in the weeks since.

little do you know, that tommy has spent just as much time thinking about you — sarah’s adorable, sweet, beautiful teacher — and after a few weeks of not being able to get you off his mind, he makes some silly excuse to join his brother in picking his niece up from school. something about surprising sarah, but he mostly just wants to catch a glimpse of you again.

something joel sees right through because sarah had told him through giggles all about you and uncle tommy, and the way you made googly eyes at each other when he picked you up from school a few weeks back, but joel doesn’t mention it.

so you’re surprised to find not one, but two, miller brothers waiting outside the school to pick up sarah today, and even more surprised when the younger miller sidles up and asks for your number, and tells you he’d like to take you out on a date.

idk i’m just in my tommy feels rn, idk if i’ll ever actually write something for this… can someone else pls write it for me haha 😭

[cuppajoel]

'One for the Road' masterlist

Dusky’s is a pillar of the community within your town. When the bar's owner has a change in circumstance, your job and the bar are at risk. (Un)lucky for you, the owners of a local, well-known contracting business step up to the plate. ‘How hard can it be, right?’ Joel and Tommy Miller are quick to learn all that it takes to run a business within the service industry. From the double shifts, sweetie-pie regulars, to creepy, drunken messes. You’ve seen it all, and then some, come past those doors in the past 5 years and you’re not gonna let these two burn your bar to the ground. -or- young!Joel, grumpy!Joel is being his damn, stubborn self and is going to meet his rival with you.  young!Tommy, fk boy!Tommy, decides to buy a bar bc he likes beer?? 

Series Warnings: no outbreak au, language, eventual smut (18+ mdni), slowww burn, angst, physical violence (its set in a bar) some of which directed to female oc, alcohol consumption, food consumption, smoking, f!oc has past with drug abuse (not her, but a close family member) female original character has a name and some physical descriptions given, no use of y/n, Joel is technically f!oc’s boss so power imbalance?,  f!oc has caring responsibilities, joel is a daddy (duh) but actually too, minor age gap f!oc is 30, Joel is 34, infidelity.- each chapter will have their own warnings so pls read!

Status: In Progress

graphics by @saradika-graphics

Hey, if you're interested in being included in the tag list pls let me know via the comments! This fic is something that I've been thinking about for a longgg time and I am inspired by all the talented creators that I mentioned in this post.

any likes/ reblogs are very much appreciated as I am getting back in the saddle with writing

Stock Rotation - posted 30th Sept

[ps5captures7]

ELLIE WILLIAMS in The Last Of Us Part II (remastered) [2024]

Captured on PS5, By Me

Capture dates - Tuesday, 23rd July 2024

Post date - Saturday, 3rd August 2024

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated<3

[missmarveledsblog]

What's missing ? ( Tommy Miller x Reader ) 18+

Summary : life in jackson is good , it's stable and it a slice of normal in a world that fell apart , when joel find a ghost on patrol tommy is left feeling things hit him hard and guilt for a mistake he was sure he caused.

warnings : mutual pinning , blaming , idiots in love , soft sensual spicy times , not proof read ( don't come at me )

In this world everything is almost treasured in a way , from losing everything and building either you or someone else up it.  Even just living day by day was something to be treasured  although it also could make you look back on all the friends and loved ones lost throughout the years , alot of people going to through similar traumatising stories . parent mourning the life their kids could of had if there was no such thing  that why the world needed more places like jackson . life was somewhat normal , not completely but it was close as close could be . tommy miller was never more grateful for it and for once his life was picking up after coming here and now  his brother and niece of sorts was here too  ( from what he could gather at least) .  Walking around town ready to help out  in anyway , maybe check on the elder relatives while he was out , slightly kicking himself for not going on patrol with joel and the others but maybe another time ,  he felt his life was complete and incomplete all in one , like something was missing and maybe it was not that he could complain he had warm bed , food in his belly and he was able to walk freely around town like the world didn’t go to shit . iit was more freeing than the QZ too so least there was that . Now when Tommy Miller woke up that morning he never thought that he would ever experience a change, not one like this anyway . 

The night air  almost crisp as the snow began falling  and everyone was ready to head back to town, maybe catch a drink or simple head home and get warm . the night cool and quiet  which wasn’t usual sometime they could go days or weeks before seeing anything . spirits starting to raise giving the fact of  getting back inside the walls of jackson that was for sure , joel himself was a little happier not that it showed but he was , he was also hoping to see if anyone in town could make clove hell he’d even wear mitten even if they were impractical. Then it moved snapping him from his thought to see a figure moving through the grass trying to crouch be unseen  under the cover of night , holding his hand up the patrol thing stop following to wear he was pointing and with a nod they went . 

“ STOP RIGHT THERE” His voice full of command and authority to that figure it was not convincing enough when the moved quicker away least it was good to see it wasn’t an infected but could be a raider or one of the scouts .  the younger of the group took chase and he’d give em it they could room  but  they were faster  diving to the ground . now in sometimes in his life he wondered if he would snap  and all sense of reality would be lost in things he had to do over the year and this felt like it was that moment when he heard that voice, 

“ Get off of me asswipes “ it couldn’t be  not after all this time , they were told she was dead left with the rest of the infected and burned  “ look i’m not going near you guys  so leave me be and i’ll be gone “ her voice more strained as joel tired aching bone got a new lease of life as he ran towards only for her to hit one of the men and push the other  and then hit the ground with a thump no long after . pushing his men out the way and turning her around it was her , no doubt about it. Right there in the flesh even through a muddy face and bit older was y/n . 

The slice of a life , one more popular with the people of jackson was the tipsy bison . a place they could pretend like it was the old way of life old folk regaling their tales  , young people socialising and well getting to be their age for once. Music playing softly although lost in the background , this was one of his favourite parts of the week people getting to be people . chatting away with everyone when he got a chance listening to their idea’s for town , place they thought would help or even something for the kids  he would sit and listen  add it to a list of possible thing in the future or even flirty back and forths where not uncommon  and sometimes he would go home with one and yet something in his gut felt off , something just didn’t feel right and when ellie came bursting through the door panting  he was just waiting for something bad . 

“ joel needs you in the clinic “ she panted  holding her chest to gather her breathe knowing she was about to start running again . 

“ whats wrong he hurt ?” he asked. 

“ look he told me not to say but he’s fine just come on “ she pulled him barely giving him a chance to put his coat on or open the door fully as the two ran through the light fresh blanket of snow that was forming on the ground.  Seeing tim walk by holding his  nose wondering what hell happened out there. 

“ don’t worry about him “ was all ellie said pulling him to move faster.   “ finally “ she sighed seeing the light of the clinic as the two entered . 

The place was quiet  one or two lights that  remained on  then he saw joel  lost in his own space to even see them coming like he was trying to make sense of it all. 

“ joel what hell is going on “ he called . 

“ it’s y/n she’s erm she alive “ it was like a question almost coming out of his mouth , like he still couldn’t fully believe his own words . 

“ ok thats a bad fucking joke joel “ tommy scoffed  just as the door opened. 

“ i need you to rest for a bit just til you get yourself built back up understand me missy “  tommy was frozen to the floor looking straight at her. 

“ loud and clear doc “ she saluted just as she turned seeing his  eyes widening . 

“ this … no ,,, you “ was all he could get out of his mouth . 

“ shit if that how we shut him up we should of got her long time ago “ ellie  whispered. 

“ i’m alive and didn’t die but i had to leave or i was dead” she finally said softly only to sweep her off the ground and pull her tight into his arms . 

“ i can’t believe your here “ voice muffled but she could hear it . 

“ wow you millers really make a girl feel special first joel punches a guy and now this “ she laughed weakly as he put her down . 

“ why you punch tim “ tommy head tilt . 

“ cause he knocked her out “ joel shrugged. 

“ come on  you can stay in mine til we sort out a place for you to stay , ellie could you got get  jeff and get her some clothes and joel get some soup and bread from the mess hall “ tommy asked . 

“ can i get that cool t shirt ? “ ellie batted her lashes . 

“ yes now go “ he chuckled as they walked out  all heading in different ways , her eye big  looking around completely in awe at the town around her . 

Sitting on sofa he could hear the water running and  muffled hum of her voice and yet he still couldn’t believe it all .  they met her back when  it was all fresh , in a new QZ and there she was all alone. Soon it didn’t take her long to be friends with Tommy although she was still a lot younger than him , still closer in age she was only going to start college  and then it all happened .  at first didn’t pay her any attention. His grief was still fresh and not many could get through to the man but over time she was able to worm herself  in and soon had him chatting and talking .  like the trio were never apart and when they were it wasn’t for long til one day she never show up  then it was longer and longer when they asked were she was word spread she was infected and exterminated opening old wounds and new losses  it was devastating for them both even in a shit show she was like a ball of sunshine filled with sass and fire .  he was never truly over her loss, would often think about her when he lay in his bed and night would think of how much she would of loved jackson ,  she used to talk about place just like it where people could grow and actually live than the shit they had to live in the QZ . 

“ I feel like 20 pound lighter “ she laugh snapping him out of his train of thought  ten year later and she wasn’t hardened by the world or whatever she had to do to survive her features  still soft and a sweetness to them . 

“ i’ll warm that soup up for you , you sit here close to the fire so you don’t catch cold or something “ he stood leading her over , throwing the tattered blanket over her . 

“ thanks for the clothes by the way “ she smiled . 

“ yeah i’ll get more tomorrow .. ones that fit better” he chuckled.

“ hey they’re clean and warm i aint complaining “ she sighed softly  embracing the warmth of the fire and fact she wasn’t still out in the cold  then the smell of the soup have her stomach growling and grumbling been awhile since she ate something that smelt so good or even out of a bowl or off a plate . she didn’t even care how she look eating   or better word scarfing the food down ,  

“ shit this is so good “ mouth filled with bread til she could see him smiling widely . 

“ let me get something for you to wipe your face “ he chuckled heading out and back . 

“ thanks “ she wince cheeks heating as she wiped her face. “ so what the deal here?” 

“ well it not like before we don’t do the ration cards or anything like that everyone pulls their weight and we share things evenly , we’ll get you a job once you on the mend doc told you take it easy so it what your gonna do til then  think of it as temporary job”.

 “ so you and joel make this place ?” she asked . 

“ not exactly to be honest things sort of fell apart between us “ he smiled sadly sitting explaining everything that had happened over the last decade or more in turn she told him of why she left how she caught something going on  so she was thrown out and left to fend for herself and first she was sure she was going to end up dead but then she would hang out with groups some nice and some not so nice but she was always able to get away so she kept doing that either sticking to herself finding what she could to survive or sticking with a group but never for too long . a brief and short mention of bad times when she saw the big walls of Jackson she thought it was a QZ  so when she was crouching and hiding it was not to get caught it was to get away . never in her wildest dreams did she think she would see them again even though she hoped they would cross path one way but then that hope slowly started fading and it was more trying to make it day to day. A sense of guilt swelling in his gut knowing why she was there and how what happened after was because of him  , all for his own selfish needs that took her from them ,  trying not to bring it down he talked about ellie and joel filling her in on the dynamic but  Then while he was telling her about Jackson he felt a weight on his shoulder only to look down and see her eyes closed and even breaths fall from her part lips ,  he couldn’t pull his eyes away , of course he always thought she was pretty but was she always this beautiful . With a shake of his head he slowly moved, lifting her up and hushing her back to sleep when she began to stir slowly, bringing her up  the stair carrying her like the most fragile thing in the world  and placing her in the guest room bed  . a little chuckle when she nuzzled and tangled herself in the blanket one last look and he headed to his own room .

The morning sun beamed into the room and right in her face , shooting up out of the bed . took her a minute to  take in a strange environment or to remember where she was for a second . rubbing her eyes she could hear the voice just out the door muffled standing she opened it only to see the miller brothers and ellie standing . 

“ ellie wanted to wake you up so you can come mess hall with us “ joel rolled his eyes . 

“ tommy wanted to go in too “the girl scoffed . 

“ i was just checking on you is all “ tommy shrugged. 

“ we brought you new books and coat come on kiddo” joel called . 

“ joel can’t call me that i ain't a kid anymore i never was “ she called back .  “ good too see he’s still an asshole “ she yawned out . 

“ i heard that “ he yelled back . 

“ good to know you still got your hearing old man “ . 

“ i like her” ellie snorted. 

“ i like ya too kid “ she ruffled her hair heading down the stair to see joel sitting and waiting for them . 

She felt slightly nervous walking through town people eyes on her and whispering wondering who she was or saying she was old friend of the brothers , one thing that didn’t go with the world was gossip and it was spreading like wildfire . although people did great them , tried talking or phishing information til joel would scowl and tell them bluntly they were hungry ,

It was even worse when she got to the mess hall   a complete silence when they walked in  , the previous chatter cut to a pin drop being heard . 

“ Yes, she's a new person get over it “ ellie rolled her eyes . “ nosey fuckers” she muttered followed by joel telling her to “ watch yer mouth for fucksake. 

Slowly and surely over weeks  and months the novelty of being a new face  was dwindling  and  learning the new way of life wasn’t as hard as it was at first .  integrating with the rest of town like she’d always there  ,  like she was an angel in joel life making gloves or makeshift ones with leftover fabric he gave her soon others where looking for other things or clothes to mended . a skill she learned when she was younger before it all happened her mother always said it was a skill that would come in handy not thinking it would be like this  but she sort of grateful she did learn .  The temporary stay was also prolonged. The guest room was just her room , her space .  Something else was different between,  spending more and more time together there was a shift in the dynamic , shift in feeling from friends to something else.  Neither saying a word in fear or making things weird or ruining a friendship rebuilding but not denying the strong want for more . It didn't take long for anyone to notice the stolen glances , the flirty tension and lingering touches and yet the two kept it just like that, afraid to move . everyday coming home it was domestic in its own sort of way two sitting in the living room not always talking even the comfortable silence was just as good  and wherever one was the other was soon to follow not long after . 

The sun high in the sky and now spring air wrapping around them  two miller brothers stood watching ellie and y/n playing with the kids in town making fun little games that made no sense but it had them excited either way while the grateful parent where setting up the little feast not to far away . a makeshift feast and fair to bring in the new harvest  and new warmer months coming . tommy eyes locked and stuck on y/n like they were glued there . 

“ ya droolin” joel smirked . “ right here “ he pointed to his own chin making his brother scowl and glare. 

“ i ain’t drooling” he muttered yet turning his head just to make sure only fueling his brothers teasing and  goading . 

“ better do something about it little brother pretty little thing like er ain’t gonna stay single long .. pretty sure heard some of the guys wondering who be lucky one get er “ he mused knowing what he was doing , he knew his brother ,  knew that light that came back into his eyes almost moment his eyes landed on her  what he didn’t understand was the hesitation or standing back from what he wanted . 

“  a beautiful woman could do better with someone her own age “ tommy shrugged but his clenched fist say another story . 

“  age aint nothing your both adults so don’t give me that crap , what the real reason “ 

“ i’m why she was  ran off is why you happy “ he snapped walking off . 

“ what che mean your why she ran off ? .. shit stop running knee ain't what it was shithead” he grumbled. 

“ i wanted to spend time with some woman  and asked her to do my delivery , it’s my fault she went there in first place and  my felt she was gone “ he felt the weight of his guilt over the years coming to the surface the real truth in why he couldn’t do it , why he couldn’t be hers when he was reason he made her life so much harder. 

“ did you know that it would happen” her voice rang in his ears  eyes closed he shook his head. 

“ well then how is it your fault tommy , your weren’t to know what would happen it was a favor i took not like it was some trap for me alone” . 

“ she right need to stop blaming yourself “ joel patted his back .  “ I'll leave you to it”  . 

“ Hey look at me “ she called firm but still gentle, no anger he felt he deserved . “ when you got beat up because I asked you to  get me something, did you blame me for it ?” she asked . 

“ no would i  , i’m glad i went what if it was you on your own …” he  rambled.  “ this is different, you were hurt and couldn’t move , i just wanted to sleep with a woman whose  name i didn’t even remember after it “ . 

“ i could of said no but i didn’t listen no what if or this and that would of made a difference now but that wasn’t and will never be your fault tommy  so get that into the head of yours and if you don’t well i’ll just have to make ellie come wake you up every morning til you agree too “ she mused finally  getting a laugh out of him. 

 “ I am sorry though “ he finally looked at her . 

“ you don’t have anything to be sorry for tommy  just time in life neither of us could see coming “ she smiled  hand caressing his face  , need to comfort him to get and see the truth of her words . 

He melted  in his spot leaning into the soft touch of her palm on his cheek , she felt his gaze and all the emotions  lay bare in front of her like opening his soul and handing it to her because it was hers to have,  he was hers  ,  first he was her friend but after all these years of mourning her memory to practice side by side once more she was always his just this time was different . this strong pull  towards her , the way he felt like he could breathe once she came back from patrol , the smile on his face watching her instantly get the people of jackson’s loves but she always had his . what he felt was missing all his time since that fateful day was right in front on his with a sweet yet strong , fierce and beautiful presence .  his own hands came to her cheeks , his calloused, blood filled hand  that held her there almost savouring the moment , burning it to memory.  He didn’t realise how it happened or who it was but in seconds the two were close as close could be her nose brush against his , eyes closed at the simple yet pure affection in the touch then he felt her lips on his own , instantly , like his body cursed  him for not giving in sooner , pulling her close chest to chest the hand that was on his chest bunching the fabric of his shirt in aims to pull him closer . lips parting to give herself to the man she held in her heart for  decade or more.   Everything that kept inside for so long coursing through one kiss . clearing of throat made her jump back only for tommy to pull her back to his chest  as he looked up to see ellie and joel  shit eating grins on their faces. 

“About time fucking hell   and the old man said you were ladies man “ ellie  teased . 

“ i glad you aint dumb as you use ta be .. sorry to interrupt but everything ready and eager to start” he called dragging ellie only for ellie to do the same with y/n and in turn she grabbed tommy’s only for the people of jackson to see the big goofy grin on the millers face . the whole night he was at her side like he was afraid to ever let her go  again . pulling her to dance  and yet the music wasn’t his favourite sound , It was the giggle and laughs that fell from her lips  , 

The night progressed from little loving touches to more intimate , from small kisses to more sensual one that made him smile into her neck when her breathe would hitch .  teasing and torturous when she would shook a glare his way  more playful than malice  til it go to much and she told them she was heading home , a coy smile on her lips as she past him ,   not a word spoken a quick wave to his brother and he was following  her back to the house , their house , maybe over time it that room would be the guest room once more but now that thought could wait when he stalked behind closer and closer before she was whipped around her laugh echoing through the town as he threw her over his shoulders almost running  home . 

“ nice ass miller” she teased only the sting on her own making yelp mixed with a moan spill from her lips . 

 “ could say the same like a peach, say it sweet as one too “  he voice lower and his hands rubbing over the clothed globe of her ass .  “ I know i’ll see every part of you is sweet baby “ he added making her lift herself on his shoulder shifting til she was in his arms and then he could the lust blown pupil , eyes matching his own  as they were devouring each other there and then. Unlike the soft and sweet kisses that were shared this was pure fire and passion  , clash of tongue and teeth , her moans swallowed whole and she could feel the ache growing and burning throughout her  entire body.  Finally they got to the house , her lips kissing and nipping the skin of his throat . once easy task seemed to be mission impossible and whine of her patience wearing thing . 

“ thank fuck , hows man suppose concentrate with you doing that” he rasped another slap to her ass making her bite him harder muffling the whimper coming from her mind. Pinching her chin in between his fingers taking in her lust filled expression and the kiss bitten lips fuck he wanted to take a picture  a plaster it all over the house. Surprised with himself as he made it to the room not sure how he managed not taking her there and then  entrance of their home … their home like it only made the man burn brighter .   clothes flung various parts of the room not long forgotten as they were bare before each other taking each others naked form in. her hands trailing over ever scar already knowing the stories behind them one  for various stages of his life , one from when joel accidently pushed him out a tree  or when he intentionally threw a screw driver during a construction job . to the scars he collected when the world came to an end .his  world only started realistically having her  feel the same was his beginning . a need and hunger to show her what she meant to him , from even touch to ever kiss on her bare skin . each a wordless promise to never leave her  , never let harm as long as he was here now .  the whines and whimper spilling from her mouth  hitting his ears like an angel singing . 

“ such a pretty little pussy “ he groaned fingers teasing through her body , playing with her like his personal instrument to his own tune .  then he  got the taste  , her  nectar hitting his tongue and he swore he died and went to heaven , how she dance on his taste bud feeling the newfound addiction . one taste and hook  , the feeling on her hand in his hair , the way she cried out his name  and ready to spend the rest of his days just right here and now.  Tongue trailing from her weeping hole to her puffy clit , hip bucking , the delicious burn on his scalp , how responsive she was , when he pumped his finger and how she clenched and cried out  he almost came all over the sheets from the sight alone and feeling of it all , never was a feeling such as this when a woman was in his bed or presence body and soul was her no matter what was to come .  

lifting himself up usually this part was a rough and rush if  it was anyone else but this was y/n , his girl , his woman and his heart. Kissing her softly lining himself to  the gate of heaven that lay between her legs and pushed in slowly both moaning loudly feeling coming together. holding kissing her any part he could  til he felt her move and wiggle body begging for more . slow , deliberate strokes that had her back arching off the bed and his name falling from her lips like a pray . 

“ fuck baby girl so perfect … fuck tight like she was made for me huh , made for my cock alone “ he grunts lifting himself up hitching her thigh on his hip hitting spot in her body she never knew existed as she rose with him  hips bucking , both in sync of the rhythm  of a dance through fire that just burned hot and brighter . 

“ my girl , my love” he moaned nose brushing her cheek before his lips descended upon hers.  He could fell it the fast approaching orgasm  but it hit like a freight train  as she clung and cried holding his own movement bucking faster , feeling of her milking him for all he was worth as his own release hit spilling deep inside a big no in previous time but he couldn’t bring himself to care , he would deal with consequence if it came to it .  

panting , sweaty and so filled with love at the gaze at each other  taking each other in . 

“ my love “ she also whispered and like earlier her hand as he leaned once more into the touch kissing the palm of her hand .  

“ my love “ he repeated mirroring her action and kissing her softly so softly  and so filled with adoration and awe before he pulled her down . her head on his chest wasn’t long til the pleasure filled exhaustion took over and her eyes closed . he knew he need to take care of her , clean the mess of the bed and everything else but that could wait for a beat and another moment he seared into his memory , one of memory  . the ghost of his past was now the path to his future.

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄

summary | both the miller brothers had a thing for you and you had a thing for them. they give you an ultimatum and you don't like that. so, instead of one, you choose both. [9k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader x tommy miller

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, age gap (sort of, it's not specificed by tommy & joel are late 40s/early 50s and reader is labebled as younger) bar owner!joel, bartender!tommy, 3somes, flirting, soft!joel (in the beginning), tommy is a little bit of an asshole, oral ( f & m receiving) unprotected piv, aftercare, joel is selfish

author’s note | joel and tommy have no interaction together in this, at least to that extent. so heed the tags and don't read if you don't like, xo.

“Actin’ like you ain’t never gripped a damn bottle in your life,” Tommy grumbles over your shoulder, fingers wrapping around your own until you have a secure hold on the neck, “tight–alright?”

Your lips pull together tensely, forcing down the urge to roll your eyes as he guides your hand through the motions as you fancily flip the bottle upside down to pour out the liquid into the glasses on the counter in quick, careful precision as you filled each one to a certain amount before moving onto the next, but somehow keeping up the swift pace Tommy was asking for.

Or, really, demanding.

He nods quietly behind you, staring back to admire his handiwork, knowing most of that was his own doing and his ability to perfect his showmanship over the past several years of heading the bar under his brother Joel, who owned the bar. 

Your relationship with Tommy was…tricky, but Joel—that was an entirely different mess.

He passes the shot off to a few waiting customers enjoying the show, and you have half the mind to think that Tommy is getting off on the fact that you’re openly embarrassing yourself in front of the patrons, but really, he’s just an asshole.

Though, you’ve come to understand that was how Tommy showed his fondness and if he was being overly nice than you’d know something was up—hell would freeze over, pigs would fucking fly, and you might actually accept his advances for once. Not today. Not with him breathing down your neck as he motioned for you to repeat the process on your own.

You take a deep breath, lining up the shot glasses uniformly and turn your wrist to grip the neck of the bottle, finding Tommy in your peripheral as he nods, “Tighter,” He mumbles, “don’t need that thing slippin’ out of your hand mid-rush and Joel chewin’ my ass out over a wasted bottle of bourbon.”

“I dunno,” You tease playfully—

Tommy surges forward and tightens your grip around the bottle.

“Think you’d know a thing or two about a good grip but goddamn.”

“If you keep this up I’m talking to Joel,” You threaten lightly, an airiness to your voice that shouldn’t feel as menacing as it does, but Tommy backs off slightly, grumbling something under his breath, “—good boy.”

Tommy rolls his eyes in annoyance, rolling his shoulder backwards as he rests his hands against his hips. You continue, swinging the bottle around less clumsily than before and pouring out the shots in quick succession—no mess, no spill. It was perfect.

Tommy scratches at his jaw, slightly dejected now as you turn back to look at him.

“What’s next?” You ask with a flashy smile, shoving the bottle square into the middle of his chest.

-

Joel catches you near the end of that day, shoving a few things away in your assigned locker, thick fingers curling around the open door, subtle smiles gracing his features as he greets you with a nod.

“It’s been a few months,” Joel reminds you, thinking back briefly on how much has changed for you in such a short time—you had friends, a solid job, a place to live, and two boys who you couldn’t help but fawn over—it was natural luck you ended up in this position, “how you holdin’ up?”

And while Joel wasn’t as forward as Tommy in his attraction, you sense it in the way he looks and speaks to you in private, no watchful eyes to spy on you. Besides, Joel seemed private and reserved, so it wasn’t that odd that he felt comfortable approaching you in private.

“Okay, I think.” You answer truthfully, playing with the curled paper of the calendar taped to the inside of your locker, your own fingers curling underneath Joel’s own, pointer fingers touching but unmoving, you glance at him hesitantly before averting your eyes to somewhere beyond him, following the eyeline of the bar as you watched Tommy wipe down the front of the bar.

“Tommy ain’t givin’ you anymore trouble?” He asks, “I know he’s technically your boss and all—”

“And you aren’t?” You chide playfully, eyebrow raised slightly as you pocket your phone and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “And yeah, but…no more than usual. I can handle Tommy just fine, you know?”

“I know, I know,” He laughs softly, hand moving away from the locker to pat at your shoulder, squeezing gently at your bicep—touches were so familiar with Joel. A hand on your back, a subtle touch of his fingers in the dip of your neck. He had respected your space in the beginning, even with how witfully you charmed him with ease. You enjoyed touch, viewed it as a language of love and didn’t mind when Tommy initiated it either. Often finding your own subconscious movements to cling to and touch the people you conversed with or felt comfortable around—he doesn’t mean much by it, you think, “but, he does still have to listen to me. I am his boss.”

“I pulled that card on him today, actually,” You admit, hand rising to rub at his elbow comfortingly, “he simmered down pretty quick.”

Joel sees the hold you have over his brother, both with your personality and general attraction Tommy felt with—well, most of the people Joel hired to work under him. But, Tommy is teasing with you, testy, and he’s not like that with the others. He’s comfortable enough that he can come off like an asshole knowing you won’t take it personally.

Joel chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder at Tommy before turning back toward you and rubbing a comforting finger under your chin, “Good girl.” He comments sweetly, it has your stomach doing flips no matter the context. It was a normal sort of endearment from Joel, but given the context, it feels like a praise rather than an outright compliment.

You smile shyly and shove his hand away.

“You know, we’re cooking out this weekend if you wanna swing by,” Joel offers, “it’s, uh—for Sarah.”

Sarah. You didn’t know much about her aside from the fact that she died young, around thirteen—it’s been close to twenty years now, but Joel still celebrates her birthday.

You nod half-heartedly, “Yeah I’ll—I’ll try to swing by.”

Joel smiles warmly, before pointing an accusatory finger at his brother across the bar, “Keep his ass in check, alright?”

You smirk, an underlying feeling of…something, feeling dizzy from how openly Joel adored you when it was just the two of you, “Always.”

-

Austin heat is sticky and humid, clinging to the bare skin of your legs exposed by the short summer dress you wore, strappy and flowy and—while it wasn’t an unusual sight to the Miller boys, they didn’t see it as often as they liked. So, of course, they gawk.

You shove the case of beers into Joel’s waiting grip, a subtle wink as he acknowledges your presence. Quickly crowding in by Tommy who’s already a few beers in, just by his loose nature as he slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing gently. He sips generously on the last bit of his beer before allowing the rim to hang slack between his fingers.

“Tommy,” You acknowledge graciously—there was always a slight tinge of annoyance with him, not the type that made you angry or upset, but frustrated. Whether just plain frustration or sexual, you couldn’t put your finger on, “already starting the party without me?”

“Come on now,” Tommy teases, “you know it wouldn’t be a real party ‘til you got here.”

“Is anyone else showing up?” You ask curiously, leaning subconsciously into Tommy as your eyes spot Joel several feet away in the kitchen, unpacking the beers. “Tess? Bill?”

The bar was closed today. Always was. It didn’t matter what day Sarah’s birthday landed on. 

They had food, drinks, a cake—it was a real party, only missing its esteemed guest.

You’ve only seen Sarah through pictures and heard through stories told by word of mouth, but Joel has never cared about anything more in his life, not until the bar and long after Sarah’s death. He’d named the bar in her honor, a simple but beautiful nod to someone so special in his life. The Monarch.

She loved butterflies. And know, whenever you see them—it’s a little reminder of her presence.

“They can’t make it,” Joel speaks from the kitchen, his mouth downtrodden in its usual scowl, his natural resting face, “so—looks like it’s just us.”

“Can you handle that?” Tommy whispers teasingly in your ear and you elbow him gently in his side, “Hey—she’s already hittin’ me, Joel.”

“Stop pissin’ her off then,” Joel offers, “mind helping me, sweetheart?”

He nods toward that back and you nod quickly in response, but not before pressing a quick hand into Tommy’s side as you pinch him playfully and earn a pitiful shout, giant grin growing on your face as you depart and follow his older brother, giving Tommy an eyeful of your swaying hips, dress barely dipping past the bottom of your ass.

She’s a friend dammit. That was it.

But, it didn’t stop Tommy from crushing on you. Hard. Even at his grown age.

You follow Joel outside with a spark in your step, meeting him at the grill situated on his back deck as he flipped some of the cooking meat, an open beer in his left hand. 

“What did you need?” You ask curiously, noticing that he wasn’t speaking now.

“Nothin’,” He admits, “just like having you around.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your touch instinctively, his head turning to glance at you. He huffs out a soft laugh through his nose before returning his attention to the open grill, meticulously flipping the meat.

“Think if I kiss up enough to the boss he’ll give me the day off tomorrow?” You ask curiously, a hint of mischief gracing your tone as you train your eyes where he was looking, even if his gaze flicks toward you for a brief moment.

“Depends.” Joel responds gruffly, setting down the utensil to close the lid of the grill.

You huff a laugh at his ease to respond to your subtle attempts at flirting, completely harmless, but the unspoken tension lingered like a constant. 

“On?”

“If you’re being’ literal or not,” Joel offers and it sends a tingle down the base of your spine, his knuckles brushing against your hip from where you’re hanging off of his arm, “cause that can be arranged.”

There’s a brief moment where you think he’s being serious—and in Joel’s mind, he is. But, the slight widening of your eyes as the words leave his mouth have him worried, like maybe he read into this wrong.

He smirks, “I’m kiddin, sweetheart. Long as you can find someone to cover your shift—“

You interrupt him abruptly, calling out to his brother.

“Tommy!“ You half-shout over Joel’s shoulder, causing him to wince and chuckle at the suddenness of it.

Tommy’s trying to pretend like he hasn’t been staring this entire time from across the kitchen, eyes locked on your figure as you draped yourself over his brother, face lighting as you talked and the subtle touches that should be him—at least, he wished it was him.

He clears his throat and heads toward the back door, head popping out before the rest of his body, “Y’all need somethin?”

“Can you cover my shift tomorrow?” You ask, a saccharine smile and a look that Tommy fell for every time, finding you hard parted from Joel now, he notices how your hands smooth out the dress that barely covers your thighs. “Please?”

“Is this what you two are doing now?” Tommy asks, now fully in view as he closes the sliding glass door behind him, “Plottin’ against me—you can’t give her special treatment, you know—“

He points an accusatory finger your way that you swat away, both of your eyes locked on Joel who seems less than interested as he sips on his beer.

“She’s gotta find someone to cover her shift,” Joel explains, “same as everyone else.”

Tommy calls bullshit, knowing Joel would figure it out himself or cover for you—it wasn’t like you did this often, but Tommy was more than aware of all the times he came to your rescue, almost like you were using it against him. A ploy. A devious plan to get under his skin.

He knew Joel liked you—but dammit, he did too.

And even in his steadfast attempt to deny you, you reach out and grab his hand, uncurling yourself from Joel as you approach him—sad eyes and a fake pout.

“Stop that—“ Tommy warns, his voice soft and anything but demanding, but you only lean in closer, and as strong of the man Tommy thinks he is, he breaks, “—god, Fine. I’ll cover your shift.”

You smile wide, right on the edge of celebrating before Tommy is snuffing the joy out.

“On one condition—“ Tommy holds up a finger, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing there was always some sort of but coming with anything Tommy agreed to, “remember that date you flaked out on?”

It was one time—within the first week of you working at a bar. Tommy didn’t waste any time and given your eagerness to try new things, you didn’t shut him down.

But, you psych yourself out and cancel.

Tommy’s always remained slightly jaded by the ordeal and part of that has contributed to your hot and cold relationship and willingness to tease each other but still have no restraints in your frustration toward one another.

“Hey—that’s not,” Fair dies on your tongue, his shoulders shrugged in a firm response, “—fine, yes. I do.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows in obvious question.

Date?

You scrunch your nose in annoyance but quickly relent, “Okay—but I’m picking the place this time. No fucking bars, Tommy.”

Joel listens to the conversation with a scowl, completely unassuming since it was his usual state of emotion.

Tommy holds his hands up in defeat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Glad y’all got that settled,” Joel interjects with a tone that pulls your attention back to him, “if you’re done flirtin’ with each other I need some help.”

You and Tommy appease Joel quickly, helping him with the food and when you’re finally through dinner, spending a quiet moment around the cake. You don’t sing or anything—Joel hates it. But, he does light a candle and blows it out, signifying another year of her absence.

There’s a quiet moment with Joel toward the end of the night—Tommy is off somewhere in the backyard, presumably cleaning up the grill for he and Joel’s shared space. They were both unmarried and found that living together and splitting the pay was easier than anything else.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Joel tells you, slipping the dirty dishes from your hands as he discards them in the sink, “we’ll handle it.”

“You sure?” It felt like the least you could do.

Joel nods, shrugging as he sets his half-drank beer bottle on the counter—he’d lost track of which one it was. Enough that he feels a faint buzz in his system as he thoughts run and he admires your curious face as you tilt your head, wondering why he seemed so…lost.

But, really—it was just that kind of day. It was never good for him, as much as he tried to act like it was. Yet somehow, with you here, he feels more at ease.

“What?” You ask curiously, a playfulness to your tone. “Keep starin’ and I might just have to give you those kisses, Joel.”

And really, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Joel gradually moves closer, looking back briefly over his shoulder at Tommy.

He smirks slightly as he turns back to you, catching that soft, familiar smile on your face.

“Don’t think he’d be too happy about that.” Joel tells you, playing with a bracelet clasped around your wrist, his front nearly pressed against your own, so close you could reach out and slip your hands under his flannel, touch the bare skin and finally find out what those older women at the bar were talking about—Joel didn’t get around, but he wasn’t a stranger to a casual hook-up.

“Maybe I want to,” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “what does Tommy have to do with that?”

“Sweetheart,” Joel breathes and you can’t resist, slipping a few trailing fingers under his shirt, which he quickly grabs with his own hand, tightening around your wrist, “I’m your boss, I can’t.”

The buzz of alcohol impedes you both, smart decision making out the window now.

“Like you don’t already give me special treatment,” You reply flippantly, teasing his obvious weakness, “....Joel.”

You.

Joel kisses you suddenly—you’re only half-expecting it as his large hand rises to cup your face, the other locked firmly around your wrist and he presses his lips firmly against your own.

He tastes like beer and the sweetness of frosting as you lick into his mouth, the hand not held tight in his grip finding its way into the front of his shirt, bunched into the fabric as you sigh into his mouth, the kiss quickly divulging into a battle of who could hold purchase on more of one another, hands exploring as Joel hands find their way over the back of your dress, the tips of his fingers grazing bareskin as he grabs and squeezes your ass, your teeth grazing against his bottom lip as you pull away suddenly, but not by your own doing.

It was Joel, his face flush from the alcohol in his system but also the intensity of the situation. There’s so much unspoken there and both of you want to speak and Joel nearly does before Tommy is shattering the moment, announcing his re-arrival into the house. You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully as you glance between the two brothers, feelings and thoughts battling in your head.

Tommy was wild and unpredictable and you craved that.

Joel was practical and determined and that’s what you needed.

And selfishly, you wanted them both.

-

The conversation that happens later that night between Tommy and Joel is anything but civil.

“She agreed, Joel—it’s not like I’m forcin’ her,'' Tommy argues, “She could’ve said no and I wouldn’t care. She knows I like her, ain’t my fault she seems to like me back.”

“You’re still her boss.”

 As if he had any leverage, it pops Tommy out of his chair and toward Joel with an accusatory finger.

“And you? You’re my fuckin’ boss so how is that any better? ” Tommy asks and Joel looks away briefly in annoyance, fists curling at his side, “Think I didn’t catch you two earlier? Cut the shit, Joel.”

“This ain’t high school, Tommy,” Joel retorts, “We aren’t fighting over her.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty fuckin’ clear when you decide to make a move on her in the kitchen and then you’re standing here tellin’ me I can’t have her—how about you treat her like a normal person and let her choose, Joel.” Tommy retorts, “Or is that too damn hard for you? Not getting what you want?”

It sparks a deep fire inside Joel. Tommy too. And you really have no choice but to give them an ultimatum—besides, you wanted both. You were getting both.

-

It isn’t like they planned it, but somehow they manage to coincide and corner you at the same moment—Joel coming out of his office and Tommy rounding the door into the backroom, your frame bent over a box of bar snacks. When you look back, your eyes widen slightly.

“Shit—am I—are you firing me?” You ask, deeply concerned. You weren’t the best bartender, but you tried.

Tommy and Joel share an equally confused look.

“No—no why would you think that?” Joel asks.

You wave your hand vaguely between them both, a serious and concerned look on both of their faces. It wasn’t out of the norm for Joel, but for Tommy, it was unsettling. 

“Then, what?” You ask, only slightly annoyed. “We’re not exactly slow on customers right now—”

Another shared look, this time tense. Which one speaks first—it feels like race.

“Look, I already told Joel—” Tommy begins.

“Sweetheart, you need to know somethin’—” Joel interjects.

And it clicks quickly. Very quickly.

The shared look of frustration as they both purse their lips in a tight line, identical hands resting against their hips. This was ridiculous—the fighting, the silent arguing without actually sharing words.

“I’m not choosing.” You tell them forthright and their reaction is less than ideal, like two sad puppies who’ve just been scolded for bad behavior, but they both stay quiet and hang on your words, seeing that you weren’t finished. “If that’s what you’re expecting me to do.”

“No, that’s not—” Joel tries to argue, his voice fairly level for how distraught he seemed.

“I want you both,” You shrug, rising with the box in your grip, “so, if I can’t have that—then no.”

And you leave them with that, stewing in their own thoughts. Their gazes follow you as you walk, shoving past them gently.

“I’m not givin’ up.” Joel tells Tommy instantly, a look of defiance from his younger brother is thrown his way–Tommy was just as stubborn as Joel, if not more.

“Yeah, neither am I.”

-

Of course, you already knew how you wanted this to go.

You spoke to them both separately, promising a proper date at a specified place on a specific day and time—they wanted you and you wanted them. But, you were doing things your way.

And that is how you end up at the Miller’s brothers home again, a few weeks later, both of the men dumbfounded at how you mastered this plan. They were both wholly faithful to you, agreeing to go along with your plan to lie to the other brother so they wouldn’t get suspicious or upset, but really, you just wanted them both chasing their own tails.

They didn’t realize what was going on until they found themselves both getting ready at the same time that day, something lingering in the air that they couldn’t put their finger on until you were knocking at the door, a wide smile on your face. Joel answers, but Tommy isn’t far behind.

It’s how you end up on the couch later that night, squeezed together and eyes droning into the movie playing on the television screen, lingering touches like burns against your skin. Joel and Tommy are trying to avoid each other, but sometimes they’ll bump fingers and shoot a scowl at each other, but then you’re adjusting yourself to find another comfortable position and their attention is quickly drawn back.

Some of it is spent against Tommy, head resting against his solid chest but Joel’s hands never stray too far, a warm and comforting presence against your shoulder or thigh, a tender rub of his thumb into your sore muscles. Tommy likes to run his fingers along the shell of your ear, his chest shaking with a laugh at the movie every so often—there was little conversation happening and you blamed that on the obvious tension in the air.

When you trade Tommy’s touch for Joel, he’s ready for you.

You tend to like wrapping yourself around him, arms snug around his own like you’ve done a million times before, but you find your fingers dragging along the length of his forearm and he’s more shifty than usual, socked feet crossing and uncrossing as your touch grows, all the while Tommy’s hand firmly on your thigh, squeezing when you squirm a little too much, feet hiked up and resting in his lap. His thumb circles your ankle and rubs, a gentle massage to your bare feet as you sigh and that—that is what catches their attention.

“That feel good?” Tommy asks casually, a genuine question.

You weren’t one to complain about sore, achy feet and muscles from long shifts at the bar, but you weren’t going to turn down a nice massage or welcoming touch. You nod and Tommy smiles, allowing his deft and strong fingers to dig into the muscles of your foot, pulling another sated sigh from your lips. Joel hears the soft release of a breath from your lips and turns his head toward you, a subtle smile pulling at your lips as he stares at you more unabashed and open than usual. It’s the same look he gave you before kissing you the night of the party and you feel it, see it before it happens.

And somehow within the shared exchange, Tommy’s hand has climbed higher along your calf as he massages tenderly until he’s nearly at your apex, supple muscle pliant other his skin as he squeezes. Joel whispers something to you as he leans in, feeling the shift in the environment.

“This alright with you?” Joel asks quietly as you look over at Tommy, who despite himself looks just as eager if not more, like they weren’t completely turned off by the idea that you wanted both of them

Possibly at the same time.

“I think I should be asking you two that…” Your voice trails as Joel’s free hand slips to cup the back of your head, fingers molding with the shape of you as he tilts your head back, allowing him the lead willingly—and Tommy is there, right there at the apex of your thighs and you want is so fucking bad it pains you, physically and mentally.

“Oh, darlin’—there’s a few stories I could tell you,” Tommy offers, fingers lingering over the button of your jeans until you nod, quickly popping the thread apart and allowing his fingers to curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging gingerly, “but that’s not important.”

Joel mouths at the line of your jaw instead of capturing your lips immediately, dragging out your suffering longer as you assist Tommy in his tug at your jeans, kicking the denim of your ankles as his large hand settles of your clothed pussy, panties damp at the center despite how hard you’ve tried to ignore the instant pleasure they’re touch gave you.

“No, no tell me.” You nod furiously, feeling Joel grins against the side of your face.

“It was a long, long time ago, sweetheart.” Joel defends, “Back in high school and college when Tommy just couldn’t go off and have his own things, always wanting everything his brother had.”

Tommy scoffs, scooting closer to you as he drapes a leg over his lap, spreading you wider for him, his hand following a slow path back and forth—all the way down to the apex of your knee before gradually back up to your pussy, throbbing underneath his touch as his fingers press into the sticky, wet fabric.

“That’s a stretch,” Tommy scoffs, “Anyways, darlin’—we used to, uh—”

Tommy doesn’t know why he feels ashamed to admit. So, Joel does it for him.

“We like to share, sometimes.” Joel explains. “I mean, I’m not in favor of sharin’ you but if that’s what you want…”

You nod furiously, the press of Tommy’s fingers grow stronger as he slips them past the side of your panties, touching the bare seam of your pussy, covered in the copious amount of sweet slick that had accumulated between your thighs.

“Oh, that’s what she wants,” Tommy surmises, a small chuckle hidden within his speech as his mouth hangs open slightly, watching yours grow wider as you gasp, his bare touch like a spark, “isn’t that right?”

You nod again, but that isn’t what he’s looking for.

“Need you to say it, sweetheart.” Joel demands, his hand squeezing at the thigh that wasn’t stretched out over Tommy’s lap, the other resting against your neck now, squeezing the muscle gently under his grip, his lips only a few millimeters from your own now. “Say you want this.”

“I do—fuck, I do,” You whimper, a single digit slipping past your entrance and into you, the stretch not quite what you’re looking for but the touch alone—from Tommy, is enough to drive you mad, “I w—want it. Both of you.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Joel agrees easily, capturing your lips in a searing kiss—heated in a way that has your stomach doing flips and your free hand gripping his grown out hair, peppered with grays but so fucking soft between your fingers.

Tommy slips in a conspicuous second finger in the midst of the heated kiss and it surprises you how good it feels, just graced by the thickness of his fingers but you need more. Want more.

There’s a subtle snarl to the way Tommy admires you so openly, his eyes dragging along the slow rise and fall of your chest and the way you cunt sucks his fingers in with greed and nothing else. He wants to taste you. 

There’s a brief look he offers as you break apart from Joel, breathless as you turn your head toward him, Joel’s following as his eyes trail toward the point where Tommy’s fingers are buried inside of you.

“Use those words,” Joel whispers against your cheek, a smirk growing on his face, “don’t be afraid.”

“Whaddya need, darlin’?” Tommy asks enticingly, removing his fingers in an anxious anticipation, wet fingers dragging along your thigh. “Gonna let me taste you?”

“Please, god—please.” You whine pathetically, watching as Tommy dicends without question, removing your panties with a swiftness that deafens the task at hand. It takes a moment as you untangle yourself from Joel to settle more central on the couch, squealing softly as Tommy manhandles your thighs over his shoulder, settled on his knees and his palms pressing flat over the tops of your thighs.

Joel settles solidly behind you after some maneuvering, a sturdiness to his chest that takes the brunt of your weight as you relax against him, his hands quickly finding their way under your shirt and pulling it up until the fabric is bunched under your skin, bare breasts on full display as he runs a gentle, testing touch over them with his palm, eyes closing at the overwhelming sensation of both of them surrounding you. You don’t even have the guise to feel shy that this was the first time they were seeing you like this–it felt normal, like this is what was supposed to happen.

Tommy floats a hot breath against your skin, kissing a line up the inside of your thigh before he speaks, “I got you, darlin’,” He assures you, “—tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod shakily, looking up hesitantly at Joel over your shoulder and he can only offer a grin, though his eyes harbor something much darker. “Tell ‘em, baby.” He urges, “You want him to eat your pussy, right?”

You nod obediently and Joel grabs ahold of your chin gently, guiding your gaze back toward Tommy, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

“Need your mouth, Tommy,” You beg, earning a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement from Joel against your chin, who leans in with a gentle whisper of tell him where as you exhale an even shakier breath than before, “on my pussy—please—”

Tommy snickers softly before he obliges, a slow, languid lick of his tongue through your folds as he starts, ripping a quiet gasp from your chest as your hand instantly finds his hair, overgrown like Joel’s but stark black and gelled back like usual, never a hair out of place.

That wasn’t going to be the case much longer, fingers fisting into his hair and using it as leverage, the slow licks between your lips quickly exploring inside of you, teasing dips into your hole as he chuckles a soft breath which each and every squirm you offered, all while under the intense gaze of Joel, who was clearly holding out—he wouldn’t kiss you as hard as you tried, trained on your face as you challenged his eye contact, not daring to let it go unless he physically forced you to look away. His hand still lingered against your chin but occasionally fled for a comforting touch when things got intense too quickly and you were almost teetering over the edge, but he quickly brought you back down.

And within that, you’re so blinded by pleasure to not realize that he’s instructing Tommy the entire time, only catching onto the last few commands as Tommy devours, making his own selfish noises as he groaned when you pulled a little too tight on his hair, mumbling praises of depravity and a ‘so fuckin’ sweet—always knew you were, darlin’ and the occasional, breathier ‘come on baby—use my face, fuckin’ take it.’.

Joel speaks to Tommy directly, despite keeping his eyes on you.

“Oh, you’re right there, huh?” Joel asks you goadingly, “Need more?”

You nod eagerly, despite how good Tommy’s mouth feels, he was lacking in one important aspect—you couldn’t blame him, he was a little overwhelmed with everything, as were you. But, Joel, he seemed the most-level headed and you were so fucking thankful for it.

“Want him to play with your clit, sweetheart?” He asks, “S’that what you need?”

“Ye—Yes.” You stutter, the gentle squeeze of your breast under Joel’s grip causing you to clench around Tommy’s tongue and he flicks his eyes up toward you both and there was no telling how pathetic you looked, but Tommy seemed just as equal on that playing field.

“You heard ‘er, Tommy.” Joel tells him, “give our girl what she wants.”

Our girl.

It doesn’t take long when his tongue presses against your clit, circling maddeningly until you have no other choice but to grip onto the couch and moan, the tightening, agonizing feeling in your stomach bursting at the seams as you come against his tongue. Joel captures your mouth to swallow the moan, not trying to give Tommy the satisfaction just yet while his brother greedily licked away at your pussy, cleaning up the mess you’d made, a gentle smile on your face as you finally came back down, allowing Joel to lick greedily into your mouth before you chanced a glance at Tommy, his pupils blown out in pleasure.

“Think we should move this to the bedroom?” Joel asks preemptively, a soft laughing bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah—yes, please.” You agree, but your legs feel weak, unable to bear your weight.

“I got you, baby.” Tommy assures, helping you to your feet gently, a comforting hand on your waist as he led you toward what you could assume was Joel’s room–considering he had the bigger of the two, Joel following closely behind. 

The deafening click on the door is both a promise and a warning.

This was a secret held within these walls and whatever took place could not be reversed.

You were willing to take that risk though, selfishly.

And you were sure the Miller brothers shared the same sentiment.

-

And for some reason, you didn’t think it was that important you come again. Not after the first, seeing as how they had proved their point in wanting you, nearly brought you to tears with your first orgasm and maybe—maybe you could just blow them both and it would be fine, even the playing fields and leave it at that. 

But, no. That’s not what they wanted. Or planned for.

Joel eats your pussy for fun, he doesn’t even try to make you come. You manage to convince Tommy out of his jeans early, using the fist you have wrapped in his shirt as leverage as you hover on your hands and knees, gripping his thick cock in your free hand and giving it a few slow tugs, knowing that if he was this big, there was no telling what Joel had to offer. 

He’s uncut and girthy, thick veins lining his cock as you lapped teasingly at the head, pulling the foreskin back as you took him into your mouth, a moan reverberating over his cock as Joel ate you out from behind, ass high in the air as he settled on his knees. It wasn’t an ideal position, but Joel wasn’t complaining and neither were you.

Joel had always stripped at some point, still clad in his boxers but devoid of everything else. He’s much wider than Tommy but not nearly as firm—where Tommy has a more chiseled chest and stomach, Joel carries a softness that still beckons with strength. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” Tommy sighs, “got a goddamn mouth on you, you know that?”

To some extent, you did. He knew you liked to argue at every possible opportunity, throw back witty remarks that sometimes he didn’t even have a response to but this—this is more than he could imagine. Wet, hot heat surrounded his cock in a way that could have him coming within a few strokes, but he was determined.

You nod with your mouth latched around his cock, taking him to the base until he nudges that back of your throat, trying desperately to ignore how it makes your eyes water, hearing Tommy groan deeply with the feeling of you swallowing around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” Tommy warns, “—go on, baby, pull off if you wanna.”

You shake your head defiantly, feeling Joel chuckle against your cunt from behind you.

“She’s greedy, brother,” Joel comments slyly, “You should know that.”

Tommy comes with a low groan, fingers wrapping around the arm still gripping his shirt, thumb rubbing against the skin to soothe himself and keep him anchored here, feeling like he might teleport to another goddamn dimension with how eagerly you swallow down his cum.

You pull off with a soft pop and look at Tommy, grinning proudly. He can’t even hide his adoration, chuckling behind a toothy grin as you pull away from Joel, turning in Tommy’s lap and pressing your back against his chest.

“You think I’m greedy?” You ask Joel teasingly.

“Look at you,” Joel comments snidely, though there’s a playfulness to his tone, “couldn’t settle for one of us so you’re gettin’ both—that seems pretty damn greedy to me.”

You nod mawkishly to his words, watching as he grew closer, shifting on his knees as you leaned forward slightly, feeling the gentle press of Tommy’s palm against your back, his spent and softening dick, pressed against your bare ass. He knew it wouldn’t take long, just a few minutes and he’d be even harder than before, unable to resist you.

“And if I want more?” You ask curiously.

“More what, sweetheart?”

“Well, for starters—I want your cum, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “Can you give me that?”

“Dunno, you think you deserve that?”

Tommy’s watching the exchange with an amused grin, feeling it was a well-deserved punishment to Joel with how often you and him argue this way. Joel was finally getting a taste of the medicine he so often mocked Tommy for complaining about.

“Come here.” You beckon, grabbing lazily at his wrist and pulling him toward you.

He seems hesitant at first, but he leans over you, sandwiching you between him and Tommy as you press your lips in a featherlight touch against his own.

“Kiss me.” You demand.

“What?” He asks curiously, like his brother hadn’t just come in your mouth.

And that’s exactly why–it doesn’t make your skin crawl, in fact, it only turns you on more.

“Please, Joel,” You pout, “just a little peck and then I’ll let you fuck me while Tommy has to watch–that’s what you want right? Wanna pull some claim over me while your brother can’t do anything about it, am I wrong?”

Joel kisses you so intensely it forces you back against Tommy, a small mmph leaving your mouth as Joel quickly gained the upper hand and wraps his large, rough hands under your ass and scoots you further down the bed until the back of your thighs press against the top of his and you moan as he licks into your mouth, knowing that the lingering of Tommy’s headiness touches his tongue and you bite down harshly on his bottom lip as he pulls apart for a brief, lingering moment. 

Here it comes—the questioning consent, the lingering wonders.

“I’m covered, Joel.” You assure him, “We don’t need them. I trust you both are clean.”

Assuming that Tommy was going to fuck you too—which, god, you fucking hoped.

That’s all Joel needs, nodding before he grabs ahold of his shaft, dragging the tip of his cock through you wetness, gathering it in a slow teasing trail before he presses inside slowly, watching the stretch of you around his cock. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on the same point either, because what Joel lacked in slight girth he made up for in length, feeling the numb press of him inside of you before he was even fully sheathed.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” He says, voice strained, “that’s a tight fuckin’ fit. Think you can handle it?”

You laugh brokenly, Tommy’s hands comforting over your shoulder before they trail to your breasts, teasingly rubbing a nipple between his fingers, watching it pebble underneath his touch.

“Do you want a pat on the back or something?” You retort, “Fuck me, Joel.”

“There she is,” Tommy comments in amusement, “I knew you were in there. Give it to ‘em, darlin.”

“Shut it, Tommy,” Joel snaps, “Know what, sweetheart, I got a challenge for you.”

Joel moves his hips slowly, pulling out slowly before pushing back in even more agonizingly slower. “No touchin’, how’s that sound? Think you can handle it.”

You shake your head. Honestly, Joel could respect it.

“Fine—Tommy, hold her hands.” Joel settles and part of you expects Tommy to argue.

He doesn’t. In fact, he looks just as greedy about the idea. And he knows if you were uncomfortable with it you would speak up, because secretly—it was exactly what you wanted. Render your power and your own autonomy for a brief moment and give yourself over to them equally. Tommy holds his hands out in wait, wiggling his fingers teasingly.

You hand them over with a soft sigh, feigning annoyance. He guides them to wrap around his waist behind you, arms stretched over your head as Joel has a solid grip on the underside of your thighs, hips still moving slowly throughout, so slow that you forget he’s actually seated inside you until he snaps his hips once, twice, his resistance snapping when he sees you settle.

Tommy settled on his own knees, though sat deeper into the bed, his hands a tight, mindful presence against your wrist as you squeeze and claw at his skin as Joel pistons his hips with a ferocity that seeks vengeance, or something there of. 

“Squeeze my cock, sweetheart,” Joel goads, feeling you do just that as your eyes roll back, “yeah—don’t act like this wasn’t what you planned from the beginning.”

“Our girl’s good at that,” Tommy comments, staring down at you with a mischievous smirk, “playin’ us both—kinda like it though, I’ll admit.”

“Shut up,” You groan, “Both of you.”

You pointedly pinch at Tommy’s skin and he tilts his head in both amusement and confusion.

“I think she’s gettin’ a little upset,” Tommy acknowledges, “You don’t think it’s fair, darlin?”

You almost have the courage to reply when Joel’s thumb drags over your clit, rubbing in quick and determined circles to match the intensity of his thrusts, using his spread knees to keep your thighs wide and open for him, eyes locked on your cunt as you squeeze around him repeatedly, moaning wantonly into your bicep as you turn your head to the side.

But, Joel doesn’t appreciate that. He grabs your chin quickly, and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You keep those eyes on Tommy. Let him see how good I make you feel, alright?”

You pout slightly, biting harshly at your bottom lip as Joel shifts his hips slightly, but it feels earth-shattering, one hand planted into the mattress to allow for him to reach something deeper inside of you, if that was possible.

“I’m right—right,” You sigh, eyes tearing up as you looked at Tommy, clawing gently at his sides, “fuck–I’m right there, Tommy.”

Despite Joel being inside you, his name slips out. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. And he wants to give you relief but really, he’s just eager to be inside of you too. He knows the quicker Joel finishes up that he can have you, so he encourages his brother. And Joel is too desperate for his own release to argue.

“Ask him, sweetheart.” Joel notices your eagerness for approval from Tommy and plays into it, feeling the familiar feeling building in his gut as he grits his teeth.

You nod furiously in understanding, eyes trained on Tommy. “I need to—can I come, please?”

“Go on, baby.” He agrees softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your chest as he feels your body shake with your orgasm as Joel swiped a thumb over your clit before everything goes white, gasping sharply at the intensity, but you don’t have much time to recover before Joel is pulling out and allowing Tommy to assist as you sit up slightly and feel the press of Joel’s cock against your lip, the blurriness in your eyes quickly clearing as he comes in long, forceful spurts over your tongue.

You lap greedily, swallowing visibly as Joel squeezes at his cock and forces out the last few bits of cum he had to offer, rubbing the tip against your tongue as you giggled softly, kissing his cock head gently.

There’s a brief second where you think they might allow you a break, a moment to collect yourself, but Joel is staring at you with his head cocked to the side, palming his softening dick as he glances over you at his brother.

“I dunno if she’s up for it,” Joel offers, “I think that might’ve taken it out of her.”

A shame, really. But, your eyebrows furrow in defiance as you quickly shove Joel, gently and not at all enough to really move him more than a few millimeters. It causes Tommy to chuckle.

“He’s just playin’ around, baby.” Tommy comforts, “You think you can handle it?”

You nod eagerly, turning on your knees as you rise to meet him with an eager kiss, something you haven’t had the chance to do all night. Tommy kisses with more eagerness, more passion—it’s less experience than what you feel with Joel. Tommy has so much he wants to match with you; the curiosity and unity in the way you touch him. You kiss like new lovers and it feels your body with warmth, both of you laughing softly against each other’s lips.

“I can handle it.”

Tommy eyes you seriously, following your playful gaze.

“Get to the edge of the bed.”

And—oh, that’s…different. Like a switch and you can barely recognize him.

Joel and Tommy switch with a trained ease as Tommy guides you to the end of the bed, the top of the mattress pressing at your waistline and giving you easy leverage to lean against and Joel is right there, in perfect view and waiting for you. He seems softer now too, more relaxed.

You think Tommy might give you a moment but he’s already hard again and eager, sliding inside of you in one go—hard and sharp as your hands press into the mattress between Joel’s thighs, gripping the sheets tightly.

=

Tommy grips tightly at the back of your neck and pulls you upwards, pressing his face into the side of yours and speaking tensely against your skin, “Why don’t you be a good girl and give my brother a taste of what your mouth can do, huh, baby?”

You nod obediently, shivering at the way Tommy mouths at your skin greedily before forcing you back down against Joel, his hands spread out beside him, cock hard against and resting against his belly.

He’s almost positive he won’t be able to come again–not this soon, but he isn’t going to deny himself the taste of your mouth, watching as you move with eagerness to please him and Tommy. The sharp snap of Tommy’s hips makes it a little difficult and Joel wants to scold his brother’s eagerness and lack of restraint, but he knows—Joel knows how good you feel and he can’t even blame him. 

He offers a guiding hand as you swallow him down, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times, repeating the process with his hand resting gently against the side of your face, thumb rubbing tenderly at the joint in your jaw, feeling him stretch you and heightening the growing ache that will linger for a while.

“Fuck, our girl’s got such a sweet pussy, don’t she?” Joel comments snarkily, eyebrows furrowing when you take him a little too deep, “Can’t get enough of it—just like this goddamn mouth.”

You moan pathetically and Joel can’t handle it, gripping your face between his palms as he presses his lips to yours forcefully, swallowing the whine that leaves your mouth as you feel Tommy’s hands roam and tightening against your body, soft expletives leaving his mouth as he fucks into you and hand gradually arriving at your shoulder and tightening around the skin, pulling him back against your harshly.

Joel rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, eyes locked on yours, “Yeah—think you can come again, sweetheart?” A third? Not a fuckin’ chance. You shake your head weakly, ‘You can, I know you can,” And there’s Joel’s soothing voice, the one you hear so often at work, “You keep your eyes on me, alright? Nowhere else.”

“Listen to ‘em, baby.” Tommy interjects after a long bout of silence, too lost in his own head as he relishes in the squeeze of you around his cock, committing it to memory. “Gonna make sure you feel us tomorrow while you’re at work.”

Joel chuckles at that, the slow trail of Tommy’s hand as it finds your clit and begins slow circles, easing into it, “Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel comments teasingly, “maybe we just can’t resist ourselves and we can take turns fuckin’ you in the back office. But, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You moan sheepishly, eyes falling shut up.

Joel tsks, “Eyes on me means you keep ‘em open too, baby. Answer me.”

“Yes—yes, fuck—I would. I would.” You rush out, feeling Tommy’s pace quicken and the ache in your stomach builds and builds, tears building in your eyes as you keep them locked on Joel. 

Despite his demands his face remains gentle and you find yourself sobbing softly into his hands as Tommy snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a deep, guttural groan as he tips you over the edge too. It’s too much, overly-sensitive and your muscles burning with more ache than when you started you let out another sob, falling against Joel.

“Go on, get somethin’ to clean up,” He tells Tommy over your shoulder, “I got her.”

You fall slack against him, feeling him adjust himself on the bed until you can sit properly, leaning you against his body as he hands run along your back, soft sobs wracking your body.

“Hey, you still with me?” Joel asks hesitantly. “Was it too much?”

You feel yourself start to calm under his touch, quickly shaking your head.

“Just…overwhelmed.” You admit, “Too much.”

“Too much?” Joel echoes with an endearing chuckle. 

“Yes,” You admit amusingly, “I guess I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“That’s fair,” Joel offers, gripping your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers, “this doesn’t—we don’t usually do this. We haven’t in a long time. I don’t want you to think this is something you're bound to now.”

“Like he could fire you if he wanted to,” Tommy interjects with a sly grin, somehow managing to redress amidst your talk with Joel, just a pair of dark colored briefs but it allows what just happened to settle in more deeply, “come here, darlin.”

Joel switches off, pulling his own underwear on somewhere near the other side of the bed. And you welcome the warmth of the washcloth as Tommy drags it between your legs, hissing only slightly, “I know, you’re pretty sensitive—m’sorry.” Tommy mumbles, gingerly cleaning you up, dragging the wet wash cloth along your thighs as well, tender from his and Joel’s teasing bites at your flesh. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You say softly, his free hand gripping your waist tenderly.

Joel offers up your clothes silently, eyeing his brother wearily as he bounds around the room, gathering his own clothes and re-dressing, though Joel stays in his nearly bare state of undress, briefs allowing him some modesty.

“I’m gonna check the bar,” Tommy offers, “should only take an hour or so.”

Joel nods, “Alright, just…keep me updated, I guess.”

He isn’t ushering you out either, his lingering presence by your side as you pull your underwear up your thighs, a gentle touch of reassurances as you wobble on unsteady legs. Tommy chuckles lightly at the sight, winking when he catches your disgruntled gaze, nose scrunched up in annoyance. 

“No fun without me.” Tommy jokes.

“Tommy—” Joel says steely as his brother throws his head back over his shoulder, slipping on his boots, “get the fuck out of my room.”

Tommy offers a mock salute and does just that, leaving you alone with Joel for the first time that night.

“I’m guessing the same rules apply to me?” You ask, shoving your arms through the holes in your shirt, yanking it over your head and you catch Joel shaking his head, pulling you to your feet with a hand when you finally look at him.

“I got you all to myself now,” Joel says quietly, “think I deserve to be a little selfish.”

You wince at the thought of any more sex tonight, but are thankful his hands down stray from your side when they settle there.

“Joel, I can’t—”

“Sleep here tonight,” He offers, “I’ll cook breakfast in the morning."

“I think you just want to keep to yourself all night so Tommy can’t have me, don’t you?”

Joel grins, leaning in for a gentle peck of your lips, “You’re damn right, sweetheart.”

[l-0-vl-3-y]

yall where tf is the fucking tommy miller fics? like i want read tommy miller and all i see is either joel or tommy and joel and its all smut😪

(if u have any tommy x reader fics lmk preferably pre-outbreak)😕

[thetriumphantpanda]

Baby Love | Joel Miller

A Trial & Error One Shot

Summary | It's coming to the end of lambing season, but there's one sheep left to give birth. Noticing she's struggling, you spend the night trying to soothe her, reflecting on your own experiences in her position.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Warnings | Joel & Pretty Girl are still as horny as ever for each other so this is explicit. Mentions of ranching, sheep and animals giving birth. Mentions of human childbirth and pregnancy (I have never had my own children so please go easy on me), also mentions of how dirty it is when a sheep gives birth (blood/guts ect). Explicit smut including oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV smut IN THE BARN, creampie, Joel being a menace, PRETTY GIRL ALSO BEING A MENACE. No use of Y/N, no-outbreak AU.

Authors Note | It has been such a joy to write Pretty Girl again, I've missed her something terrible, and I'm so happy that the dynamic between her and Joel is still going strong, even if I have abandoned them for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and if there are any aspects of this families lives that you'd like to see, feel free to request it in my ask box!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Lambing season is coming to an end - something you’re eternally grateful for. It’s been a busy few weeks - early mornings and late nights for both Joel and Tommy, leaving you with the twins, Joshua and Ellie to keep entertained. Not that you’d have it any other way - your dysfunctional little family makes you happy every day.

With Joshua at school and the twins with Joel as he took Ellie into town for an appointment, you’re out in the fields with Tommy, making sure the remaining sheep yet to give birth are doing alright. You don’t profess to being an expert, but you’d like to think that your motherly instincts can go beyond humans, knowing when certain sheep are due and when some of them are starting to struggle.

It’s been an easy lambing season this year - most of the girls are seasoned professionals by now, needing only a light touch and a refill of their water more than anything, but there’s one sheep you are worried about. She was from lambing season a few years ago and this will be her first time. When you head into the barn, she’s stood in the corner of one of the pens, moving very little but bleating every once in a while. You know it’ll happen soon, but you’re worried about her.

“Don’t worry your head, sugar,” Tommy soothes, running a hand down the back of your head when it’s time to leave, “It’s nature, she’ll know what to do.”

But, led in bed that night, there’s something that you can’t push from the back of your mind. This worry that takes over you. She’ll be on her own in there, being one of the very last to give birth, and what if she’s scared? What if something goes wrong? You remember how scared you’d been when it came to having Joshua.

So you sigh, push back the sheets, and get dressed. You leave Tommy a note in case he wakes in the night and worries about where you are. You can’t say the horses in the small stable next to the house are enthused about having a torched shined at them in the middle of the night, but thankfully yours doesn’t put up much fuss when you saddle it and make the journey through the dark fields to the barn.

Flicking on the lights, you’re immediately glad you came. The sheep in question is led on her side, breathing laboured and fast. As you walk towards her, she kicks her legs a little and lets out a pained bleat.

“I know baby,” You coo, making sure the gate is shut behind you, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

You fall to your knees in the soft hay a little way from her, hoping not to spook her, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence. She’s led down near the wall, so you crawl over a little and lean your back against it, stretching your legs out, just to be near her if she needs you.

The sheep lets out another pained bleat but she moves a little, up from her side and onto her feet. She walks closer to you, leaning down to prod your hand with her nose. You let out a little chuckle, letting your hand run down her head. The ranch dog likes when you scratch behind his ears, so you do the same here, which has her settling back down onto her side with her head on your thigh.

“It’s one of the most wonderful things,” You speak to her softly, continuing to pet at her head, “Having babies, but they always forget to mention how much it fucking hurts.”

She lets out another soft bleat, moving her body a little to get comfortable, or as comfortable as is possible when you’re in labour.

Watching her, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your experience in her position. The first twinges of pain, low in your back that turned into pain everywhere. There wasn't a single position that was comfortable, no way to sit or lie or stand that could take the pain away. Then there was the exhaustion - after hours of waiting and more time pushing and pushing, there were moments when you didn’t think you could do it anymore, that you’d just close your eyes, drift off and wake up with a lovely, healthy baby perched in your arms.

But then, there’s that moment of relief, when the midwife had told you it’s okay honey, one more push and it’ll be done and it was and you could hear him crying and then he was on your chest and you were crying and so was Tommy. No-one ever mentions that bit either - how within seconds you could look down at a baby, your baby, and be completely and utterly in love with him. That’s what made it all worth it. That’s what made you want to do it again. It’s what makes you think you’d do it for the rest of your life if you could, just to have that one moment where that baby is in your arms for the first time.

“It’s worth it though,” You speak down to the sheep, “All this pain will be worth it in the end when we’ve got your beautiful little lamb with us.”

And it is. It’s all a bit dramatic in the end. The lamb gets stuck and you need to offer a helping hand to get it out, but almost immediately the mother sheep is doing exactly what she should, cleaning it off as you do the thing you’ve seen Joel do to help clear it’s airways, sticking a little bit of hay up one of it’s nostrils.

“Look mama,” You coo at the older sheep, a hand on her head as she works to get her little lamb clean, “Look what you did, you clever girl.”

Joel doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the barn that morning, but it certainly wasn’t to see you on your knees in the hay, rubbing a newborn lamb with straw. He can see from this angle that your clothes are filthy, covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you…? Have you….?

“Pretty girl,” He speaks softly, not sure you know he’s there, “What are you doing?”

You turn to him and it’s clear to see you’ve done exactly what he thinks you have and helped this sheep give birth, the gunk all over your clothes is also wiped across your cheek and forehead.

“She-” You trail off, “The sheep, she was struggling and I didn’t want her to be on her own.”

He opens the gate to the pen, walking in to fall beside you on his knees, “Have you been here all night?” He asks, letting his hands give the small lamb the once over.

“Pretty much,” You nod, “We had a lovely talk, didn’t we?” You ask to the mother sheep who is standing a few steps away, carefully observing Joel as he looks at her lamb.

“Did she do okay?”

“I had to get in there at the end,” You explain to him, “I think it was stuck, so I just gave her a little helping hand.”

Once he’s satisfied that the lamb is okay he shuffles back a little, watching as you do the same, letting the mother sheep have some time with her baby, “You did a good job,” He praises, letting his hand run down the back of you head, “Proud of you, pretty girl.”

He helps you to you feet, bends a little to brush as much stray hay from your jeans as he can before he steps back and really takes you in. It’s unconventional, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve got your hands dirty, spent your night here on your own to help one of his sheep, and the fact that you’re covered in dirt and hay, something about it all makes his jeans go a little tighter, something that he’s not quick enough to hide.

“Are you hard, cowboy?” He hears you tease before you’re stepping forward, “Does the sight of me covered in blood and guts turn you on?”

He rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, leaving the pen now he’s satisfied the sheep will be okay, but he can hear your feet following him and then your hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“You’ve not gone all shy on me, have you?” You speak softly, gently moving him so he turns a little.

“Have I ever been shy, pretty girl?”

“Then tell me,” You shrug, smirk plastered across your face, “Does this,” He watches as you drag a hand over the mess that is your clothes, “Turn you on?”

“You wanna know the truth?” He asks, voice low, “I wanna bend you over and get you to shut the hell up.”

Joel can’t help but let his own smirk show when your eyebrows raise, but it’s a fleeting later in your guise, because you’re turning around, showing him your back as you walk towards the stacked bales of hay in the corner. He can hear the clinking of your belt buckle and the telltale sound of you unzipping your jeans.

He’s stuck to the ground as he watches you pull down your jeans and your underwear, baring your backside to him. You pull them all the way down, letting them pool at your ankles as you spread your legs a little wider, bending yourself over the hay in the exact position he had in his head.

“Come on then cowboy,” You say, head turned over your shoulder to speak to him, “Come and shut me the hell up.”

It’s been an automatic response of his for years now, that when you present yourself to him, in any way, he falls to his knees like someone praying to an altar, and today is no different. He’s on his knees behind you, at just the right height to grip his palms to your ass, spread you open wide for him.

He wastes no time, he rarely does anymore, letting his mouth close over the hole of your pussy, somehow already weeping for him. He lets his tongue dip inside, lapping at your slick. It’s been years and he still doesn’t think he’ll get over how good you taste, how it lingers on his tongue for hours whilst he goes about his day.

Whilst he’s lapping up your slick, he lets one of his hands reach around, thumb searching out your clit, little circles rubbed across the little bud. He listens, feeling his cock throb in his jeans when you let out a gasp and a little moan.

“Not so talkative now, are we, pretty girl?” He mumbles, barely pulling off your pussy to speak, before he’s switching his hand and his mouth, leaning just enough so his tongue can flick against your clit, one of his fingers slipping inside you easily.

He chuckles against you when you moan at the curling of his fingers inside you - he loves when he can reduce you to a whimpering mess in seconds. It doesn’t take him long to feel the telltale signs that he’s going to make you come either. He can feel you start to fluttering around the two fingers he now has buried inside you, can feel the way you try and tighten your thighs around his face, so he carries on exactly how he is - suckling at your clit and moving his fingers in and out of your cunt until you’re coming for him, a high-pitched moan of his name from your mouth.

Joel doesn’t wait, he can’t wait. He stands, making quick work of pushing his own jeans and underwear from his body, finally freeing his aching cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He spits obscenely into his palm, running a tight fist up and down his length a few times before he’s dipping his knees, rubbing the head of his cock against the slick hole of your cunt, listening as he pushes himself inside you, giving you every inch of him as slowly as he possibly can, until he’s sheathed inside your tight heat.

He leans forward, covering your body with his own, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he gets used to the feeling of you clenching and fluttering around him. He can feel you wiggling a little under him, trying to get him to move, so he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, squeezing a little, stopping your movements altogether.

“Keep still,” He warns, “You need to keep still a minute, baby.”

There’s never going to be a time where he doesn’t need to do this. The soft, wet heat of your cunt and those first movements inside you that make him feel like he’s eighteen again, ready to come with a few thrusts.

He gives himself another minute before he starts pulling his cock out of you, slowly dragging through your slick until just the tip is left inside you, then he’s slamming himself back into you, setting a bruising pace.

The sound is obscene - there’s the wet squelch he can hear whenever he pushes his cock back into you, the slapping of his skin against yours and the way you both sound when you’re moaning each others names. He’s not going to last long, he knows it. All of this combined with the fact that anyone could wander in and see you has a thrill settling across his spine.

Joel leans forward again, letting his teeth bite down gently on the skin of your neck. He can feel the way your cunt is clenching, if he can just hold on, just a little longer, he can get another one from you, he knows it.

“Tell me,” He chokes out into your ear, “Tell me how to get you there.”

You let out a loud moan, turning your face to his, kissing him, all teeth and tongue and clumsy, “Bite me again.”

So he does, he lets his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking gently, sure to leave a mark, his hand slinking underneath your belly and down to your pussy, soaked bud of nerves exposed just right for him to use his fingers to swirl across it a few times.

“Oh my God-” He can hear you moaning, “Joel, fuck, please, don’t stop, just like that.”

Within seconds, he can feel you coming on his cock - cunt pulled tight, sucking him in. He feels the gush of slick from your pussy too, cock angled just right to have you squirting for him, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. It’s the tightening of your walls around him that sets his own orgasm off - that flush of pleasure across his body that blooms even more as he empties himself inside you. He can feel everything, the way your pussy clenches every time he gives you more, sucking his spend in as deep as possible.

He pushes himself up off you a little, hands on your hips, frantically sucking in air. He groans a little as he pulls himself from your cunt, standing back to admire how his cum drips from you. He doesn’t linger long, bending down to pull your clothes back up, gentle kiss pressed to the swell of your bottom as he does. He lets you zip yourself up whilst he puts himself right.

“Well, that was a great start to the morning.” You muse, pressing up on your tiptoes, gripping at his flannel shirt.

He’s about to speak when there’s a bleating from the sheep in the pen behind you, you both laugh, “Someone else agrees.”

He dips down, kisses your mouth slowly, gently, “Go and get clean,” He speaks against your lips, turning you around and giving you a tap on your ass as he does, “You’re filthy.”

“Still turns you on though.”

“Go on, get outta here.”

[sofmoth]

Good Men Die Too

DO NOT BOTHER INTERACTING IF YOUR BIO IS AGELESS OR YOUR BLOG IS BLANK.

thank u @strang3lov3 for your editing assistance (as well as the encouragement to actually write this) and thank u @sweetenerobert for so kindly beta reading<3

also posted to AO3 by me (@sofmoth). link here.

divider created by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

tommy miller (the last of us) x reader. WC: 8.5k

18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT.

HEED ALL WARNINGS:

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. no outbreak AU, early 2000s AU. reader is an 18 year-old high school senior, tommy is a 20 year-old high school senior (held back twice in 8th grade), football player!tommy, cheerleader!reader. tommy speaks spanish, reader speaks and understands spanish (for translations, click the AO3 link and see ending notes). semi-protected sex (no use of condoms, reader is on birth control), PIV sex, loss of virginity, multiple female orgasms, multiple instances of sex. porn with plot, porn with feelings, the feelings are reciprocated but never said out loud. implied gun violence, gun violence confirmed. tommy is insecure and doesn't want to end up like his dad (not super doing anything to prevent this). relationship is implied but never explicity acknowledged between them. teenagers fuck and if you can't handle that, that's a you problem (play w ur mama not me). once more for the cheap seats, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

You stand well down the hall, leaning against the lockers, slyly peeking the twenty feet up at him. You’re watching him carefully slip something into his locker. You know that shape; it’s the same shape that sent his father to prison. One of his friends saunters toward him, saying something in eighth grade-level Spanish and signaling with his hand. You can see his eyes glow as you watch him deny, vehemently, that he does not, in fact, have what his friend is announcing.

I saw you.

You see he’s chosen once again to not wear the uniform, not the slacks, not even his football jersey. Definitely working after last period. The white t-shirt he wears makes him look smaller at this angle, but when he turns in your direction the breadth of his shoulders obviously matches his brother’s. He slams his locker shut, raises his chin a bit, and his eyes meet yours for one scorching second before he smirks and looks away. You feel your back melding with the steel.

It’s gonna be a long fucking day.

Your face feels hot until lunch. You decide to sneak out to the football field, picking a spot at the top of the grandstands with a clear view of the parking lot. There he is. Hanging around a Ford Taurus with a few other guys, all of whom graduated when he should have. He’s sitting on the hood of the car, smoking lazily. One of the guys sneakily hands a tiny red package of something to someone who definitely does not attend the school, tucks the wad of green into his pocket. You can see him look back at the other guys and shake his head, wave his hand dismissively. Your fingers curl around the chain link fencing keeping you from falling off the back edge, your breath leaves your chest. You don’t feel like going back inside when the bell rings, content to stay up and out of his sight to watch. But he goes back in, so you do too.

You pay no attention the rest of the day, drawing a few scattered laughs when the teacher snaps at you for daydreaming. Last bell finally rings and you hurry out front, rolling and tucking the waist of your horrible plaid skirt up and in twice as you walk. You know when he’ll be walking out, strategically unlocking your bike at that moment. You can feel his gaze on the exposed skin of your thighs, keeping your eyes down as you situate yourself on the seat.

“Tommy! Deja de mirar y métete al mierda auto. Tengo que darle el bebé a Martina.”

“Vete a la chingada, Joel.”

Mission success.

You glance up as you pedal past, making a point to raise your hand to Joel as you cross in front of the car. He nods and waves politely, Tommy pointedly looks away. You remember Martina, Joel’s fiancé. They graduated together when you were in sixth grade, at that point still two years behind Tommy. Joel got Martina pregnant a few years later, and by that time you were in the eighth grade. Tommy had managed to stay in exactly the same place. The baby definitely isn’t a baby anymore. Maybe it’s different when it’s your kid.

You pedal just a bit behind the car, enough to stay out of the way as you watch Joel pull off. You shrug out of your blazer, stuffing it into your backpack and pushing up the sleeves of your stiff dress shirt. It isn’t weird for you to follow them– you live right across the street. Besides, it’s not like Tommy is going to be there anyway. That’s the whole reason Joel picked him up, they’re definitely going to a job. You still allow for quite a bit of distance before you finally begin making your way home.

By the time you do make it home, Joel’s car is still in the driveway. You drop your bike off at the side of your garage, walking slowly around to your front porch. You can hear an argument, a small child crying. You see Joel and Martina hurrying out, Martina carrying the toddler. You can still hear the argument over the engine rumble as they leave.

“¡Nos estás destruyendo, Tomás! ¡Tienes veinte años! Mira a tu hermano, él–”

“¡Nunca seré como Joel, mamá! ¿Cuándo vas a ver eso?”

Your shoulders twitch as their front door slams open and shut again, Tommy storming out past his truck to the other car, jacket in hand. You hurry inside; that argument was none of your business. You gossip. You still peek out your blinds as the beige Mercury roars to life, Tommy whipping out of the driveway in reverse. He’s on his way to find trouble. Make trouble. You’re sure you’ll see his face on the evening news, but you still hope you won’t. Five o’clock rolls around, and you sigh relieved when you don’t.

— — — —

Today you opt not to take your usual spot to stare, instead choosing to patrol the hallways. You see him, leaning against a locker and talking to a freshman girl. You tune in carefully, they’re only talking about her brother getting benched for his grades. Tommy is almost wearing the uniform, khaki slacks fitting his thighs mind-numbingly perfectly. Only God knows where his blazer is. His sleeves are rolled up, his tan forearms seemingly glowing golden in the combination of fluorescent overhead lights and early-morning sun streaming through the huge windows. You make a point not to look at him, instead allowing his gaze to follow your movement. If this is how he wants to do it, fine. You’re good at this game.

You are not so good at dodgeball.

Forty minutes later, you find yourself in the nurse’s office with an ice pack pressed gingerly against your zygomatic bone, and you can feel the bruise forming. You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your gym shorts, sighing through your nose. If it had been anyone else, you’d probably be thinking what a fucking dick. But it was Tommy who launched the rubber ball directly into your skull with far more force than necessary, Tommy who immediately covered his face with his hands and turned away in embarrassment. So instead you find yourself thinking he noticed, he cared. You will get him back, though.

The bell rings and you change back into your uniform in the bathroom, scribbling a short note on some scrap paper before scurrying down the hall. You slip the paper through the slats in his locker, turning sharply around and walking back to the office. You’ll sign yourself out for the day, forge your mother’s handwriting, probably won’t be back for a few days.

— — — —

It’s been three days of Tommy stealing looks at you as you sunbathe in your front yard during the afternoons, lingering a bit too long outside the car before entering the house. Three days of Joel averting his gaze as obviously as he can, three days of you catching a glimpse of Tommy gripping his cock through his pants where he thinks you can’t see. Three nights of you, knuckles-deep in your own pussy, wishing it was Tommy’s strong hands instead. You’re going to make it happen. First he needs to admit it. Whether to you or himself, it doesn’t matter.

You ride your bike to the school in the middle of the day, locking it to the tall fence surrounding the football field. It would be easier if you had bothered going to your classes- you wouldn’t have to scale said fence- but you do it anyway. You climb up in the grandstands, taking the same place as before, scouring the parking lot. There he is.

You press your forehead to the chain links, sighing. You watch him smoke, and this time he’s sitting on the hood of the Mercury. He’s wearing his jersey today, like every other football player on Friday. If you’d come to school today you’d be wearing your borderline-skimpy cheer uniform, and you wonder briefly if you’d have more luck if you were wearing it now. He flicks the butt of his cigarette away, lights another one. It looks like he’s fiddling with something in his other hand, you can see him shaking his head.

He looks up, locks eyes with you as he exhales. You find yourself doing the same, melting into the fencing. He slides off the hood, places his cigarette between his lips and tucks his hand into his back pocket for a moment. Tommy clears the fence in two hops, his bouncing walk carrying him swiftly and effortlessly up the metal stairs to you. You turn a bit, hiding the yellowing bruise as you play with your long sleeves. He sits a few feet away, leaning back into the fence. You can see him looking you up and down and you smirk a little.

“Me gusta todo negro. Reina de la noche, ¿verdad?” You laugh. You can see him smile.

“That’s not gonna work on me. Nice try, though.” He scoots a bit closer, pulls the paper you’d slipped into his locker from his pocket.

“So. You owe me a black eye?”

“It’s only fair.”

“Hm. And I couldn’t help but notice there’s also something about some kissing.”

“Yeah. Why, you come to collect?”

“Maybe.”

You tuck your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them. He flicks his ash away and drops the butt through the fence, eyes scanning your face.

“I really am sorry about the dodgeball. I wasn’t aiming for you.” You roll your eyes.

“That makes it all better, thanks.” He huffs.

He slides steadily closer, close enough to hook his finger through the loops of your shoelaces. He tugs them a few times, all a lopsided boyish grin as you tap him with your toe. He looks so young like this. His grin drops and he swallows harshly.

“You know I suck, right?” His voice is low, you shake your head.

“Not to me.”

“My dad’s a convicted murderer, he’s waiting on death row right now.”

“You’re not him, though.”

“My brother is leagues ahead of me. He’d already started his business when he was twenty. I’m still a senior in high school.”

“Tommy.”

“All I’ve got going for me is football. I’m a liar, I steal, my friends are drug dealers. You…” He laughs softly, looks away and licks his lip. “You’re better than that. I know you get up to shit too but it doesn’t matter, you’re still good. I’m not good.” You rest your hand over his on your shoe, tracing a vein with your pinkie nail. Your voice falls to a whisper.

“You’re the only version of you I’d want.”

He searches your face for a moment, you can’t tell if he came up empty. When he speaks his voice is soft.

“Do I have to get the black eye first? Or is it like an IOU situat–” You cut him off, pressing your lips firmly to his. 

Your fingers rest against his neck, his other hand comes up to cover yours. You can feel him touching your stupid fucking purity ring. You move your hand farther back to the nape of his neck, his soft curls gracing the pads of your fingertips as you thread them in. His tongue in your mouth makes your chest feel hot, your ears fill with the sound of television static as he squeezes your thigh. The taste of his cigarette makes your head feel fuzzy, and you don’t notice until he pulls away that you’d forgotten to breathe. He swallows, chuckles softly.

“So does that count as one or like… ten kisses?” You huff out a laugh, roll your eyes.

“I’ll let you know after you win tonight.”

“What happens if we don’t win?”

“You’ll get your black eye.” Tommy laughs.

“Shit, okay. We gotta win now.”

He cautiously laces his fingers into yours, you close your eyes and lean back into the fence. You sit in silence together for a few minutes, Tommy ignoring whatever bell rings.

“You want a ride home?” Slick motherfucker.

“No thanks. Weather’s too nice. But maybe tonight.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Alright. Just let me know.” You squeeze his hand gently.

“You should get back to class.”

You dodge him as he leans in, smirking as his mouth falls open. You stand and stretch, arms above your head, yelping a little as he grabs your waist and pulls you between his legs. He presses his face to your chest and inhales, hands climbing your back. Your head drops backward and you feel your fingers tangling in his hair. God, you’re weak. You force yourself to pull away.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You turn quickly and practically run down the steps.

You climb back over the fence as gracefully as you can, unlocking your bike and pedaling over to Tommy. He looks down and laughs, shaking his head. You wave up at him as you pass, smiling to yourself as you leave the parking lot and head home.

— — — —

Joel was nice enough to offer you a ride back to the school for the game, but you suspect Tommy had something to do with it. You deny twice, just like you were taught, and graciously accept the third time.

“You managing okay with your mama being out of town?”

“I’m doin’ okay. Fridge is stocked, if that’s what you mean. She’ll be back on Sunday anyway.”

“Alright. If you need anything you can ask any time. A ride, a meal, anything. We’re not hurtin’ and I’m happy to help.”

“I appreciate it, Joel. Thank you.” He pulls up to the locker room and you climb out, tugging your skirt into place. “Tell Señora Miller I said hi.” He laughs.

“¿Cual señora?” You grin, ducking to look at him.

“Tu madre.” You shut the car door and wave as he drives off.

By the start of halftime you’re up two touchdowns and a field goal. He really doesn’t want that black eye. You decide to sneak off to the bathrooms, not sure if you need to piss but definitely needing a cigarette. You’re a bit surprised to see Tommy around the dark corner of the small building.

“Shouldn’t you be in the locker room?” He jumps a little, laughs softly.

“Scared the shit out of me. Yes, I should. Shouldn’t you be sittin’ pretty on the track?” You flip him off.

“Yes, I should. But I needed a cigarette.”

“Fair enough.” You sit down next to him, tucking your legs under yourself.

You pull a half-smushed cigarette out of your bra and place it between your lips. Tommy stares at you, exhaling his smoke slowly. You groan. You’re not sure where your lighter is, but it’s definitely not in the band of your spankies anymore. He flicks open his Zippo, holds it out to you and you lean in, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you inhale. You exhale through the corner of your mouth, looking at your lipstick on the filter. You can hear him swallow, see him ash his cigarette out of the corner of your eye. 

“Me gusta ese color en ti.” His voice is soft.

“Again, that’s not gonna work on me.” 

“Se vería más bonito todo jodido.”

“Ay, para.”

You stub out your cigarette, grabbing his face and pulling him in. He kisses you aggressively, lacing his fingers through your hair. You whimper as he bites your lip and pulls you onto his lap, sliding his hand up the back of your thigh to your ass. You pull away a little, running your thumb over his lip.

“This is so juvenile.” Tommy snorts a laugh, shakes his head.

“Who gives a shit?” He kisses across your jaw and down your neck, your eyelids fluttering.

“Slow your roll, Miller. We’ve only got ten minutes until third quarter and you still have to go put your pads back on.”

You kiss his cheek, climbing off his lap and fixing your skirt. He stands, looking down at you and shaking his head.

“You sure shake that head a lot.”

“Just hard to believe you sometimes.” You scowl.

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” He holds your face in his hands.

“Cool it. It’s not a bad thing.” Your eyes roll. “I’m serious. Stop tryna tease me or piss me off or whatever you’re doin’. It’s not gonna work.”

You lick your thumb, reaching up to swipe it over his cheek. He swats at you gently.

“Leave it. They’re not gonna bench me for having a little lipstick on my face.”

“Whatever you say. You still oughta hustle.”

“Fine. Hey, you think any more about that ride home?”

“I’m still thinking. Find me later, I’ll let you know.”

You practically bounce back to the track, sitting and tucking your legs. One of your squadmates discretely hands you a makeup wipe and her tube of lipstick.

The end of third quarter proves enough to get Tommy and one opposing linebacker both benched. The linebacker went after Tommy, Tommy didn’t appreciate it. Helmets came off, a few blows landed, coaches pulled them apart. You watch him moping on the bench, an ice pack held to his face the same way you did on Tuesday. He turns to face the cheer squad, lands on you. You wave at him from your hip, one corner of your mouth quirking up as he waves back. One of the junior varsity girls giggles something about him waving at her, you almost tell her to shut the fuck up.

He doesn’t want you, bitch.

— — — —

The game finally ends, and you end up losing by one field goal. You mill around outside the locker room, waiting for Tommy to come out. When he does, his hair is wet from his shower and you see he’s rocking the beginnings of a serious shiner.

“Well, we didn’t win. Guess I’m about to have two black eyes?”

“Nah. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Since we made out earlier does that mean we’re square on the kisses?”

“Only if you want to be.”

“Let me give you that ride and I’ll let you know.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you through the parking lot to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. Señora must have needed the Mercury. You climb in, smiling softly at him. He tries to leap over the hood and you laugh, covering your mouth as he nearly falls. Your head tips back against the headrest, watching him as he plays it off and slings himself into the driver’s seat. He looks over at you, eyeing you up and down. You turn your head to face him.

“Like what you see?”

He doesn’t say anything, resting his elbow on the shoulder of your seat. He rests his other hand high on your thigh, stroking the skin delicately.

“You gonna answer me?” It comes out weaker than you mean for it to.

“I think you know the answer.”

He brushes a bit of your hair over your ear, taking a lock between his fingers. You force your shoulders to relax, exhaling slowly through your nose. Tommy squeezes your thigh.

“Let’s get you home.” You can only nod.

He turns in his seat, starting the truck and resting his right hand back on your thigh. You’re on edge the entire way home, your chest feels hot and your hands tremble in your lap. Tommy’s hand slides up your thigh a bit, you feel your cheeks warming. He parks in your driveway, looks over at you.

“Let me walk you up?” You give him a small smile.

“Sure.”

He climbs out, walks around the front and opens your door for you. He offers his arm and you step down, shutting the door behind yourself. He holds your hand as he walks you up to your porch, sliding to your waist as you stop. You lean up on your toes, holding his face gently. You kiss him softly, feel his hand come to rest on your bare bicep. You lean back, look up at him.

“You can come in.” He smiles, shakes his head a little.

“I don’t wanna impose.”

“You should come in.” He chuckles.

“Alright.”

You stoop and pull the key from under the mat, unlocking the door and gesturing him inside. He steps in, looking around as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack. You lock the door behind you, leaning back against it to watch him.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna go get changed real quick, I’ll be right back.” He nods and smiles with half his mouth, kicking his shoes off and claiming a spot on the couch.

You don’t close your bedroom door all the way, leaving it open enough to give Tommy a bit of a view and to see him sneakily looking back at it. You keep your direct gaze averted, only watching him from your periphery. Out of habit you press the play button on the disc player atop your dresser and strip out of your uniform, lingering absently near the door.

God damn, will you grow a pair?

You look at yourself in your mirror, wishing for a moment you had prettier underwear. Something lacy, something sexy. Something that isn’t so plain or simple, something to make him want to want you. The string of dying Christmas lights above your bed casts a splotchy pastel glow over everything, and you’re hoping it ups the appeal. You close your eyes, shaking your head as you sit on the edge of your mattress near your pillows. You thank God your mother had finally caved and bought you a full; your old twin most certainly wouldn’t accommodate the two of you.

Now or never, pussy.

“Hey Tommy, can you come back here for a second?” You yell up the hall, peeking to watch him stand and shake out his hands. He seems almost nervous.

The floor squeaks softly under his steps, the doorknob rattles as he places his hand on it. He pushes the door open, keeping his eyes down. You pull your legs up, tucking them to your chest and resting your arms on your knees. He steals a glance and his grip tightens.

“Come sit with me.” Your voice is soft, much softer than you want it to be. He looks up at you finally and you see him swallow.

He enters fully, shutting the door and walking slowly over to you. He sits, adjusting his legs open a bit. You can’t help yourself, looking down at his crotch and quickly looking back up.

“I let you drive me home. You decide whether or not we’re square yet?” One hand drifts to his thigh, tracing over the inseam of his jeans with your nail.

“Yes I did.” He slips a finger under your bra strap, your breath catches as he tugs it down over your shoulder.

“What’s the verdict?”

“I think you still owe me a few.”

Your legs spread without a thought as Tommy pushes you onto your back. His hands are warm on your bare sides, his rough calluses keeping you from floating away. He slots one of his knees between your legs, you gasp as the denim meets the gusset of your panties. His nose presses to the hollow of your neck, hot breath moistening your skin. You feel lightheaded, reaching up to knot your fingers in his still-damp hair, tugging when you feel his teeth on your shoulder. You can feel his chest rumble against yours, the kissing on your neck growing near-frantic as you grind against his leg.

He pulls away quickly, sitting up and practically ripping his shirt off. He leans back over you equally fast, pushing one of your legs aside. You feel him push his hand down into your panties and everything that follows is involuntary; your back arches up into his chest, your eyes cross. You feel his cheek against yours and you want to cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dragging him closer to you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s following the music, his thick fingers pumping in and out of you steadily in time with the guitar. You feel yourself starting to tremble, breath quickening as your eyes roll back.

“Damélo, princesa.”

You motherfucker.

It feels like you’ve been hit by a train, black and white spots dotting your vision as his pace slows and he shushes you softly, mumbling something you don’t have the energy to decipher. He withdraws his fingers and you can feel him starting to lean back, wrapping your arms around him tighter and pulling him back. He kisses your cheek.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Just gotta get this fuckin’ belt off.” He pulls away gently and you sit up.

“Let me.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows, holds his hands up. He sits back on his heels, displaying himself for you. You wet your bottom lip, leaning up and kissing him. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the base of his skull, feeling his hands resting on your neck as your other hand tugs at the leather tucked around his waist. You’re shocked by yourself for a moment, at the ease and speed with which you manage to undo the buckle. Tommy seems equally surprised.

“Now I don’t know for sure, but that little ring tells me you haven’t done this before. On the other hand, you did that a bit too well. You been holdin’ out on me?” You roll your eyes.

“You’d like to shut the fuck up before I change my mind.”

“Duly noted.”

You wrap the buckle up in your fist, winding the leather around your wrist and pulling it away from him. You drop it to the floor; it hits with a satisfying thunk. You feel bold now, resting your fingertips on his fly. He tilts your chin up with one finger, nods in encouragement. You smirk, pushing him onto his back. He folds his arms behind his head, watching you. Pinche vaquero. You unbutton his jeans, unzipping them slowly as he reaches down to pet your hair. His knuckles glide over your cheek and you lean into them, eyelids fluttering.

“¿Te gusta, princesa?”

You gnash your teeth at his hand, gasping as he swiftly threads his fingers into your hair and tugs your head backward.

“None of that now. Need you to be sweet, alright?” He loosens his grip almost immediately, you nod and lean down to the waistband of his boxers.

You kiss his skin softly, smiling to yourself as his chest rumbles. He tangles his fingers back in your hair, seemingly more as an anchor point than for control. Fuck. He smells like Irish Spring, your eyes rolling back behind your closed lids as you slide down and kiss his bulge.

“Carajo, princesa. Either this isn’t your first time or you watch too much porn.”

“Less than you, pendejo. I’ve gotta steal your WiFi to do it.”

“Pendejo? You’re in for it now.” You yelp as he sits up, practically lunging at you and knocking you back.

He pushes you down into your mattress, you giggle as he nips at your ear. He props himself up, off of you, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he looks over your features. His frown lines are soft, already-dark eyes now black in the light. Something hidden deep behind them. Let me in.

“Eres la chica sobre todo hermosa que he visto en mi vida.” He whispers, barely audible.

“I’ve already told you–”

“Es la verdad.” He kisses you slowly, sweetly.

You exhale shakily, mouth opening against his as your back arches and his hand snakes under you. He unclasps your bra deftly and for a moment you feel a stinging in your chest, something like anger that you didn’t get to have him first. You suddenly feel his palm on your bare breast, inhaling sharply at the sensation.

“Take off those fuckin’ jeans.” You feel dizzy, watching as he maneuvers the denim off his legs and onto the floor.

He presses his nose to your sternum, sighing raggedly as he pushes his hips against yours. You cover your mouth with your hand, your attempt to stifle your moan ruined as Tommy moves your wrist away from your face. He pins it to your pillow, his other hand still under you and squeezing your ass. You drape your free arm over his shoulders, his forehead coming to rest gently on yours. He’s almost pulling you in, pelvis steadily rolling into you.

“Jesus Christ, I’ve gotta fuck you.” He sounds close to begging.

“Please.” You will beg, you don’t care anymore.

He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties, raising his eyes to meet yours and you nod. He tugs them down, borderline whining as you’re exposed.

“Dios maldito, princesa.”

He does whine now, dropping your panties and pressing his lips to your knee. He curses under his breath, shoving his boxers off before pushing your thighs apart. He situates himself between them, taking your left hand and inspecting it as he slides his cock slowly up and down through your folds.

“Tell you a secret?” His voice is a whisper.

“Anything.” Your voice quivers.

“Kinda always wanted to do something like this. Sorta fucked up though, isn’t it?” He looks you in the eyes as he removes the silver purity ring, placing it gingerly on your nightstand.

“You know that’s why I want you.”

He drops your hand gently, kisses you firmly. You gasp against his mouth as you feel the head of his cock splitting you open, your breath quickening as he pushes further in. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his chest, whimpering into his skin as he holds the back of your head, shushing you softly. He groans as he bottoms out, the sound rippling in your ear as if through water.

“Buen trabajo, princesa. Maldita sea, joder.” He shushes you again as he slowly pulls out, reentering just as slowly.

“Fuck, Tommy. Oh my fucking God.” Your vision is fuzzy, hands cold and face on fire.

You knot your fingers in his hair, legs burning from the distance they’re spread. He rolls his hips into you evenly, keeping a slow pace with the music as Chino Moreno serenades you both. Your thoughts flutter around the idea of giving Tommy road head, riding him in the backseat of the Mercury, him eating you in the bed of his truck. You tug his head back and he whimpers, kissing you roughly as the aggressive vocals suddenly quiet. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the pillow above you as his pace begins accelerating. You pull experimentally, testing to see how tightly he’s holding you. He eases his grip, doesn’t remove his hand.

“Just tell me to stop or slow down and I will. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m okay. You can go faster if you want.”

“I wanna fuck you through this mattress. Do you want it faster?” You nod and he nudges your chin up to look at him.

“Sí o no, princesa.”

“Yes.” He kisses you again, cradling your cheek.

Oh, fuck. He’s been granted permission, now fucking into you at tempo. You gasp, pulling your wrists free in earnest, nails finding purchase on his back. He hisses, biting your lip and groping the flesh of your waist. You pull away, pushing your forehead against his chest and moaning brokenly. You nearly scream as his fingers circle your clit, tears beading in your eyelashes from the stimulation. You feel yourself trembling, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the rubber band snaps.

“Cosita sensible, ¿no?” He doesn’t stop, teasing the sensitive nerves with his fingertips.

The tears finally fall, your hips jerking into his hand as you’re immediately hit with a second orgasm. Your chest feels tight, cheeks hot. He pulls his hand away, kissing you softly before slowly pulling out. You whine involuntarily at the sudden emptiness, Tommy shushing you as he slides up to lean against your headboard.

“On my lap, princesa. Want you to try something.”

He takes your hand as you push yourself up, focusing on keeping your breath steady as you take your place over his thighs. He kisses you sweetly, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he strokes his cock.

“I want you to sit on it. Think you can do that?” You bite your lip, looking away and back quickly.

“I can try.”

“That’s my girl. I’ve got you, just take your time.”

My girl.

He holds your hips gently as you shift up, squeezing reassuringly as you begin lowering yourself onto his length. Christ, he’s thick. You whimper, biting your hand as you pause.

“You’re doin’ good, baby. Fuck, you feel good.” He whispers, removing your fingers from between your teeth and pulling you close to his chest. “I’ll do the rest, just relax for me.”

He pushes up into you slowly, moaning softly as you dig your nails into his bicep. You gasp sharply as he snaps his hips once, burying himself inside you. He holds you there for a moment, kissing your forehead before exhaling raggedly.

“You’re okay, just gotta get used to it. Fuck. Gonna move you, alright?” You nod, out of breath and your limbs weak.

He rests one hand firmly on your hip, the other around your waist as he slowly guides you to grind on him. You sigh, eyes rolling back at the sheer fullness. You don’t feel totally conscious, arms snaking around his neck seemingly with minds of their own. You become vaguely aware that Tommy’s hand is no longer moving you, instead suddenly feeling him squeezing your thigh. Your legs are shaking, all sound around you is dulled.

“Hey, come back to me.”

You shake your head, the movement of your hips stopping and you force yourself to focus.

“You still here?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your voice nearly fails you, your words airy and barely audible.

“I guess now’s a little late to ask if you’re on the pill.”

“I am, sorry. Wasn’t even thinkin’ about it.”

“S’okay. Look at me, baby.” You blink hard, tilting your face up.

God must be real.

He looks beautiful like this. His hair is mussed, the now-dry curls sticking out from around his ears and tipping onto his forehead. The freckles across his nose seem to create constellations. There is nothing hiding behind his eyes anymore. There he is.

“God damn, I’m close. I’m gonna fuck you like this, okay? Just relax, you can take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, fucking up into you fast and hard. You yelp, melting into him as he holds your head against his neck, one arm encircling your waist. His breathing is jagged, you feel him press his lips to your shoulder as he attempts to stifle a moan. You can feel his hands twitch, pressing closer to him.

I’ll never get close enough.

He gasps sharply, thrusting hard one final time. You cry out, practically jumping as he holds your hips down to his. He wraps his arms around your torso tightly, dragging his nose up the side of your neck. His breath comes out trembling and heavy, his entire body now twitching against yours. You try to focus on the fading guitar riffs, eyes closed as you attempt to calm your racing heartbeat.

The disc player clicks a few moments later, a soft chhh as the CD stops spinning. You swallow, leaning back to look over Tommy’s expression. He kisses you softly, brushing your hair over your ear before tipping his head back against your headboard. You laugh a little, he raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Either you love Deftones or you only fuck with music playing.” He rolls his eyes, smiles.

“I live with my entire family. The only time I get any privacy is when I have music on.”

He pulls out of you slowly, rolls you carefully onto your back. You run your fingers through his hair as he rubs your bicep with his knuckles. He finally begins to look around your room, taking in the decor and dirty laundry scattered about your carpet. He points at one particular heap on the floor.

“You should wear that tomorrow. Look good with my suit.” Oh fuck. Fuckin’ homecoming.

“Your suit? Or Joel’s?” He rolls his eyes and you smirk. “And how exactly do you know what you’re pointing at?”

“My suit. And I live with two women, I ain’t blind. C’mon. I’ll buy you a corsage and everything.”

“Pick me up at five then.”

— — — —

He kisses you goodbye in the morning, lingering in the front door frame far longer than necessary. Promises he’ll be on time, he’ll probably even be a little early. You giggle at him, kissing him one last time before shutting the door behind him. You watch out the blinds as he backs out of your driveway and re-parks along the street gutter in front of his house, raising his hand to your house as he walks inside.

By 4:30 you stand in front of your mirror, severely second-guessing yourself. You feel like Angela Bettis in Carrie, and you could vomit from the nerves. At 4:50 a knock on your front door scares you out of your stupor, rushing from your room to answer it. You put an eye up to the peephole, exhaling shakily and adjusting your stole. You smooth the fabric of your dress, hoping you didn’t stain it with the sweat from your palms. You pull the door open, greeted by Tommy’s impish grin. He’s hiding his hands behind his back, fidgeting a little. Joel stands behind him with his arms crossed, holding a digital camera.

“Hey. You’re early.” Your voice is soft.

“Told you I would be. I hope it’s okay that Joel—”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Come on in.”

You stand aside to allow them entry, swallowing as you close the door. Joel looks around for a moment, Tommy reveals his hands. He holds out a little plastic box, a corsage of a peony and baby’s breath within. You grin and laugh airily, taking it and turning it around in your hands.

“Told you I’d get you one.”

“Hey now, don’t be puttin’ it on yet. I gotta turn on the damn camera.”

“Hold the red button, pendejo. Told you a million times.”

Tommy rolls his eyes and smiles sweetly down at you.

“Te ves bonita.”

“Tú tampoco estás mal.”

Joel takes a few photos of the two of you, nodding approvingly every other shutter click. He walks out behind you and Tommy, taps on your window after Tommy helps you into the truck. You crank it down, eyebrow raised as he takes your hand.

“He does anything to hurt you, you call me. I know you can take care of yourself but boy would I love to get a lick in, too.” You laugh, squeezing Joel’s fingers.

“I’ll make sure to. Thanks for taking the pictures.”

“Anytime, kid. Y’all behave tonight.”

You look over at Tommy, holding his face in his hands as he rests his forehead against the steering wheel.

“Oye, pinga. Te estoy hablando.”

“¡Lo sé, maldita sea!”

You cover your mouth, holding in your laughter. Joel winks to you, thumping the base of the window and stepping back. You crank it back up, waving at him as the truck roars to life and Tommy pulls away. He rests his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking the fabric with his thumb.

“Hey, you okay?” He blinks hard.

“Yeah, fine.” You shrink into yourself.

You inspect the corsage on your wrist, run your finger over the petals on the peony. You reach the one red light on the way to the school, Tommy squeezes your thigh gently. You look over at him.

“Wait for me in the bleachers, okay? I gotta do something real quick when we get there.”

“What is it?”

“Nothin’ you gotta worry about. Just gotta grab something.”

“Please don’t be dealing tonight.” You look away, covering your eyes with your hand.

“Hey, no. I’m not. Promise. I just left some shit the other day, I’m gonna grab it and put it in the back. Then you can shake as much ass on me as you want.” You huff a weak laugh.

“Not really my speed.”

“Then we can just sit, that’s fine too.”

The light changes, Tommy reaches over and brushes your hair behind your ear as he accelerates. He rests his hand back on your thigh, barely touching it.

“I’m not gonna start anything, just gonna have a good night with my girl.” You nod, placing your hand over his.

“Okay.”

— — — —

It’s nearly midnight. The dance ended hours ago, and as promised Tommy didn’t start anything. Now, you find yourself sitting on the lowered gate of his truck bed in a decent-sized crop circle with twenty or so other people milling around. A few of the underclass girls have proven they can’t handle their alcohol, and you try to tune out their retching as you watch the bonfire someone made. Tommy had wrapped his varsity jacket around your shoulders not long after you arrived, your stole not nearly enough to keep you from shivering. You hear footsteps coming toward you and look in their direction, seeing Tommy coming your way and offering a cigarette. You take it and place it between your lips, meeting the burning end of his and inhaling.

“Havin’ any fun?”

“It’s okay.” You lower your voice. “I know some folks but I don’t really run with anyone here.” Tommy hums.

“We can head out soon if you want?”

“I’m not gonna stop you from having a good time with your friends. We can stay.” He nods, takes his cigarette between his fingers and kisses your forehead.

One of the football players calls him over, he looks at you and you nod. He kisses you quickly, jogging off. You sit alone smoking for a moment, staring up into the sky at the stars. The shuffling sound of a group of drunk tenth-grade girls headed toward you pulls you back. You flick your ash away, eyeing the JV cheerleaders. Same fuckin’ bitch. The one who got it in her head Tommy had waved at her leads them, and she looks pissed.

“You fuckin’ slut.”

“I know you’re not talking to me. Not 27 hours ago I was still wearing my purity ring. When’d you get rid of yours again?”

“Bitch!”

She screeches, grabbing your arm and yanking so hard you think for a moment she must have dislocated your shoulder. You fall, hitting the dead ends of the corn stalks and shrieking. You lay face-down for a moment, eyes closed. You can hear a few of the guys yelling, the JV bitch screeching again as a senior girl grabs her. There are several voices around you, and you pick out Tommy’s, but you can’t quite understand what he’s saying. You open your eyes slowly, losing sight of his dress shoes for a moment before six shots ring out, everyone around you screaming and hitting the ground. He reappears before you, lifting you gently and setting you inside the cab. He shuts the door, his yelling muffled. The driver door slams and you jump.

“We’re goin’ home.” You can only nod; he sounds furious.

You stop in town on the way back, Tommy jumping out to make a call. You watch him feed the dimes into the payphone, watch as he paces around, stretching the cord to its limit. You can’t tell what he’s saying but his free hand moves wildly. He hangs the receiver back on the hook, scrubs his hands over his face before lighting a cigarette. He looks down at the sidewalk briefly, climbing back into the truck.

“What did you do?” You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him. He exhales slowly.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.”

“Tommy.”

“Nobody died.”

You lean your head against the window, pull his varsity jacket tighter around yourself. The two of you are silent for the remainder of the ride, and you let yourself out once in your driveway. You walk up to your front door in a daze, walking into the house and back to your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, looking down and noticing your corsage was crushed at some point. You can feel hot tears stinging your eyes, the mattress sinking next to you. You can’t help yourself, leaning into Tommy’s side as you begin to sob. He shushes you softly, wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair. You finally catch your breath, wiping your face with the back of your hand and pulling away from him carefully.

“Hey. Look at me, princesa.” You force your eyes up to meet his.

“Tommy, just tell me. What the hell did you do?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, laughs awkwardly.

“The guy who invited that little girl, Liam? He started… mouthing off, calling you a slut and a whore and all that shit.” He swallows. “I shot up his fuckin’ car. Made sure no one would say anything but I swear to God I didn’t hit anybody.”

You flop back, staring at your ceiling. You can feel more tears forming, Tommy leans over you and brushes your cheek delicately.

“Everything’s okay. Promise.” You chuckle weakly, a few tears slide down over your temples.

“Bitch crushed my fuckin’ flower.” He rests his forehead against yours, a cut-off laugh escaping his throat. He kisses you softly.

“That’s what you’re crying over?” His voice is low, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s special.”

You place your hand over his wrist, squeezing a little. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing.

“You’d thought I sent that bitch to hell, didn’t you?” You laugh, covering your mouth and rolling half away. You wipe your eyes again, reaching over and ruffling his hair.

“Can’t say I woulda been very upset if you had.”

“Damn, tell me how you really feel.”

“You don’t wanna know.”

You sit up, shrugging off Tommy’s jacket and hanging it from the post at the foot of your bed. You toss your stole to the floor, slipping off your corsage and resting it carefully on your nightstand, kicking off your heels as you lean over to rest your head on your pillow. You close your eyes, feeling the bed shift as Tommy scoots up behind you.

“Y’know you oughta cut that hair soon. They’re gonna start dress coding you.” You lean back into his chest as he wraps his arm over you.

“Fuck them. I’ve been thinking about growing it out anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t see why not. I think I’d look good.”

You smile, holding his palm against your cheek as he strokes your arm with his other hand.

“That’s not a dealbreaker then?” His voice is soft, you hum quizzically.

“You’re just growing your hair out.” He snorts, you feel him shake his head.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean… somebody starts talking shit and I— ”

“No.” His lips press to your shoulder blade.

“I’m just like my fuckin’ dad.” His voice trembles..

“No you’re not.”

He pushes his face against the back of your neck, exhaling slowly. You hear a siren wailing in the distance and he tenses, relaxing only as it fades.

“Don’t know how many times I’ve gotta tell you I’m not a good man.” 

“You’re good to me.”

“Ain’t the same, princesa.” You pull away enough to roll over and look at him. “My mom was right, I’m the one tearin’ everything apart. You deserve someone good, someone better than me. God damn, maybe if I was more like Joel—” You shush him.

“No, I already told you. You’re the only version of you I’d want.”

He caresses your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. He kisses you softly, you run your fingers through his hair as he squeezes your hip. He kisses you more urgently, you grab his tie and pull him closer. He moans deep in his chest, palming over your tits and rolling his hips into you.

“God, we’re fucked up.”

“I don’t care.”

He pulls away, frantically unbuckling his belt and pushing up the skirt of your dress. You inhale sharply through your teeth as his tongue hits the fabric covering your pussy, eyes rolling back as he kisses over your thighs.

“Vamos a quitárnoslas, princesa.” You whimper as he nearly rips your panties off, throwing them to the floor and pulling your hips to meet his face.

You gasp, hips bucking into his mouth as his tongue teases your clit. You feel your eyes starting to water, breathing becoming erratic. You could scream when he finally stops teasing, holding your thighs over his shoulders. You knot your fingers in his hair, grinding against his tongue as you reach down to find his hand. He laces your fingers together, you whine as he hums against your skin.

There’s something about finding out after the fact, about not knowing he was packing the entire night. Something about knowing he used it in defense of you. You feel yourself gush against his tongue, he moans and squeezes your hand. He doesn’t stop, kissing and sucking your clit even as your tears begin to fall. He only stops when you pull his hair, tugging his head away.

“God, I need you to fuck me.” He leans up over you, kissing you as he unbuttons his slacks.

You taste yourself mixed with the remnants of his earlier cigarettes and you pull him closer. Your head tips away and your back arches as he pushes into you, digging your nails into his forearm. Immediately his pace is unrelenting, his hand on the back of your neck keeping you from hitting the headboard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hook one leg over his hip as he fucks you into the mattress.

This is what he needs.

It’s almost animal; his breath is heavy and ragged, the way he holds you is not tender. He holds you like he wants to own you, biting your neck and shoulders like you’re meat.

You don’t care. If you could do the same things to him, you would.

“Joder, princesa. I’m gonna—” You yelp as he slams his hips into yours, biting his shoulder aggressively through his shirt fabric as his chest heaves.

You can feel him shaking, releasing your teeth and stroking his hair gently. He stays over you for a long moment, nose pressed to your throat. He sighs deeply, pulls out of you slowly and lays on his side next to you. You roll to face him, tugging your skirt back down. He smiles, rolls his eyes as he readjusts his slacks. He rests his hand on your shoulder, tracing small circles with his thumb. You lean over and kiss him sweetly, he brushes your hair away from your face.

“You really don’t care that I’m a bad man, huh?”

“Good men die too.”

“So?”

“I’d rather be with you.”

AN: thank you for reading, this is my first tommy fic so i hope you all enjoyed♡

if you like what you read and want to see more, i would be honored if you’d consider stopping by the cafe! if you’re not able or don’t want to commission, if you would like to drop a buck in the tip jar that’s also greatly appreciated (but never required)!

[thewordypeach]

Flesh Without Blood

Flesh without Blood (Forbidden Fruit)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, Tommy Miller x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: 18+, smut!, no use of y/n, incest (stepsibling!!!), threesome, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected penetration x2, little bit of voyeurism, maybe some cuckold, mentions of punishment, implied rape, slight uncaring/cold-hearted... summary: There’s something beneath the surface, something that has been waiting to be unleashed. Something dark and feral. author's note: hello, this is my third story I've posted! and oooof, yeah... it is incest. but between stepsiblings (as if that makes it better??!?) i couldn't help myself okay! i know you want to be sandwiched between Tommy and Joel Miller as much as i do. also, i am sorry that the summary sucks - i'm not very good at them lol. umm, anyways, i hope you enjoy because i might have another incest-y story in the works... ;) xoxo the wordy peach &lt;3

Joel Miller’s rough exterior speaks to the life of survival the three of you’ve endured since the cordyceps outbreak. You watch as his chest expands and his shoulders pull back, making his already physically imposing body even more domineering than before. His face, rugged and weathered, twists into a scowl. Meanwhile, Tommy Miller’s exterior is merciful, exuding a softer, more lenient temper. His body language is casual. Less rigid. But his face is stricken with disappointment.

“I’ll give you a cut of whatever I make!” The contrast between the brothers makes you nervous, and you slowly start backing away. A sense of urgency makes you blurt out a new, better offer, “Whatever I make, I’ll give you a quarter - no! Half!”

Joel remains stoically hardened, but Tommy gives a disarming smile and barks a laugh, “What the hell are we going to do with the money?”

You shrug, “Buy some more guns?”

Tommy laughs again, and his entire face lights up. Tommy’s laid-back nature has always made him the easygoing of the two brothers, and even now, as they confront you about your secret business dealings, he seems to trust that you aren’t a threat. You might be slightly stupid, but you certainly aren’t dangerous.

“Oh, Nic,” Tommy shakes his head, and his face darkens as he approaches you. The sudden change in his demeanour makes you confused, and your body stills, becoming rigid and tense. His hand is quick, clamping down around your throat. Your breath hitches, and you reach up, grabbing his wrist. His hold on you is firm, and you struggle to remove his steellike grip.

“You think we’re fucking stupid?” He hisses, voice full of venom. He doesn’t squeeze, but his fingers flex around your throat, sending the message that he could easily choke you out. Your eyes dart to Joel, who isn’t stopping any of this - in fact, it looks like Joel is enjoying it. 

“Don’t look at him - look at me,” Tommy barks, “I’m the one who has you by the throat,” 

Your eyes snap to Tommy, and you squirm, trying to step back. Tommy glares, spitting out, “Never thought you’d be the one who would betray the family, Nic,”

“I wasn’t -” You grunt, still trying to pry his hand off your throat. By a fraction, Tommy’s grip tightens. “I wasn’t trying to fucking betray you - I was trying to fucking leave this shit hole,” 

At the admission of your actual plan, Tommy stops. His face softens ever so slightly, and his eyes, once hard and emotionless, shift into concern. His brows knit together, and he whispers, “Leave?”

You nod, eyes still panicked as they peer at Tommy. You know he’s the one you want to be bargaining with, but it’s still hard to admit the truth to Tommy. You reply, “I-I-I’m joining the Fireflies,”

Confusion floods Tommy’s face, and he presses, “You need money for that?”

Momentarily, you feel bad. It wasn’t money that you were after, but rather, you were gathering supplies for a mission which just happened to belong to your stepbrothers. You shake your head and bite your lower lip, considering your words, before cautiously speaking, “I needed the supplies for a mission Marlene is sending me on,” 

“Oh, that’s fucking rich, Nic - stealing from your own brothers,”

“Tommy, no - it���s not like that,” You say, voice breaking in the process. Tommy shakes his head, and the muscles in his hand, still holding your throat, flex and shift. 

“Then what’s it like, Nic?” Tommy asks. He sounds hurt; however, his neck is corded with tension and his lips are twisted into a wryly sneer.

“I know neither of you wants me around,” Your voice quivers as you speak, the weight of past rejections and present isolations bearing down on your heart. You know deep down that Tommy and Joel Miller, your brothers only by marriage, have never entirely accepted you as one of their own. 

There has always been a palpable tension that never seems to dissipate; something is always simmering beneath the surface. And now, decades later, that same tension remains in a world ravaged by a deadly fungus. Tears gather in your eyes as you confront the bitter wound that has never fully healed. 

Tommy’s tongue clicks against his teeth, tsking in disapproval, “Poor little Nicky thinks we don’t want her around, Joel….” 

You shake your head, “Tommy - please, don’t,”

Tommy glances at his older brother, “What do you have to say about this, Joel? Do we want little Nicky around?”

From the expression on Joel’s face, you think he is being asked what he thought of the weather because it is so casual, so aloof. Completely unaffected. You watch as Joel’s mouth moves. His voice is cold and detached: “You know what, Tommy? She is stupid for thinking that we don’t want her around, considering all we’ve done for her….”

Joel casually walks over, his brown eyes staring blankly at you. That is until a strange look flickers across his face. It’s a warning - you’ve seen it before. Your stomach drops, and you’re suddenly desperate to escape this situation, so you try to bargain with them, “Just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened, okay?” 

Still holding your neck, Tommy sweeps his thumb along your jaw and strokes little circles into it. It’s almost comforting. His head tilts to the side, and he peers at you, eyes blazing. It’s the lapse of silence that has you panicking again. His face tips down, and he presses his nose into your cheek, his hot breath cascading across your skin. 

“Oh, Nic…” Tommy murmurs, his lips flush against your cheek, “I know it’s hard to believe, but everything we’ve done, we did it for you,”

The implication makes your skin crawl. Lips quivering, you ask, “What are you talking about?”

Tommy’s voice is taut, filled with annoyance, “Stupid bitch doesn’t even know how many men we’ve stopped from ripping her apart -” His hand has moved from your throat to your jaw, holding it tightly between his fingers. He’s gazing at you with expanded pupils. There’s something beneath the surface, something that has been waiting to be unleashed. Something dark and feral. 

That’s when Joel presses his body into your back, and you realize you aren’t going anywhere. Your stomach twists and floods with despair, body submitting to him instantly. With a taunting undertone, Joel says, “Oh, Nicky… how can we convince you that we want you around?”

Tommy disagrees, huffing out, “Speak for yourself, Joel - Nicky has always been a pain in my ass,”

“Tommy,” Joel warns. The energy has shifted. It’s no longer hostile, but something taboo between the two brothers is unfolding. Tommy’s mouth twitches, and he sighs, relenting as Joel recounts a memory: “Remember that one summer when she wore that tiny bikini and paraded her body all around the yard? Like some goddamn peacock.” 

Tommy licks his lips, smirking at the memory. A prickling sensation shoots up your spine, and alarms start going off in the back of your mind. Frantically, you glance around the room. You already know there isn’t a way out of here, and even if there were, Joel and Tommy would never let you go. 

With a gruff voice, Joel asks, “Tommy, how does it feel having your fantasy come true?” 

A dreadful expression crosses your face, but underneath, there’s curiosity as bewilderment floods through you. Thinking of the past and present, searching for the signs of their secret desire - can it really be true? Tommy mumbles, “It only took a decade for it to happen,”

You shake your head, refusing to believe such things, “N-no, no….”

Wickedly, Tommy grins, “What, Nic? Are you trying to tell me that you never thought of us this way?” He cocks his head to the side, entertained by the defiant glare you’re giving him. It reminds him of the times he spent teasing you as a teenager; he had fun bullying you in those days.  

Firmly, you state, “No, I haven’t.” You’re disgusted by his insinuation: “It’s wrong,”

Tommy scoffs, laughing, “So, you didn’t write in your diary about how badly you wanted Joel to take your virginity?”

You stop, eyes blinking with disbelief. Your jaw slackens, mouth opening in shock. Tommy loves this look - he loves how you’re pretending to be all innocent when you are just as dirty as he and Joel. 

“I never wrote that,” You lie. Tommy rolls his eyes and gives you a playful look before his eyes travel down, taking inventory of your body. A possessiveness settles on his face as he hungrily gazes at your chest. He knows you hate wearing a bra, and even now, he can tell you aren’t wearing one. It’s in how your tits bounce and your nipples, perky and erect, poke through the fabric.

Tommy can’t stop himself and just has to reach up and pinch one. The pain is sharp and quick, making you squeal in surprise. You try to twist away, body turning, but Joel’s hands cinch around your waist, and he holds you against his solid body. Your attempt to fight back is futile. Utterly useless. You try to think of ways out of this, but your mind is giving up, and your body is giving in; Joel touching you makes you realize that the infatuation you once felt for him has never really gone away. 

“I…I was young and stupid,” You hastily admit to the secret you’ve been harbouring for decades, “I … I thought it’d be hot to fuck one of you - can you blame me, though? Both of you were constantly bringing girls over to fuck -”

“Aw, Nicky. Were you jealous?” Tommy coos as his finger completes a circle or two around your nipple. The sensation is causing pressure to build in the crest of your crotch, and you hate yourself for it. It’s wrong, totally wrong -

“If I’m being honest, Nic… I was jealous of your little boyfriend - what was his name again? Gregory? Geoff?” 

Joel says, “Garret,”

“Ahh, yeah. Garret. He’s the one who popped your cherry,” Disappointment lines Tommy’s voice, and he pouts, jealous that it wasn’t him. Unhurried, Tommy drags a finger down, down, down and slips his hand underneath your shirt. You inhale sharply as Tommy’s hand dances across your stomach, tickling you. Goosebumps explode across your skin, and you struggle to remain indifferent, but his touch sends mixed signals to your brain. 

Teasingly, Tommy presses, “Whatever happened to Garret? Hmmm, Nic? What happened to him?” 

You bite your lip, trying to remember. Garret was your first boyfriend. Your first love. Or so, that’s what you thought. Teenage boys can be so fickle. “He… he broke my heart - cheated on me with some dumb whore,” 

“Do you regret him being your first? Do you wish it was Joel or me who took your precious little flower?” Tommy circles back to your old diary entry. You refuse to admit it, mouth clamping shut. But it’s the way your body presses into Joel’s body that gives your secret away. Intrigued, Tommy studies your subtle movement. He knows that you’ve always had something for Joel - after all, Joel is the protective older brother who’s reliable and stable. Always has been.

“Well, Nic…” Tommy’s voice fades off. His hand underneath your shirt trails up and cups your breast. It’s soft and pillowy, exactly how he imagined. His voice is low, but his intentions are evident as he speaks: “What if you got the best of both worlds? What if Joel and I take you….” 

He’s massaging your tit, kneading the plump flesh. He tweaks your nipple, softer this time, and a little gasp escapes from your throat, betraying you. Traderous sparks begin to envelop your body. Your breath hitches as you ask, “And what happens if I refuse?” 

You know you won’t be backing out of this because Tommy’s words are true. You’ve been lusting after Joel for years, and if the world hadn’t gone to total shit, you wouldn’t be standing here, considering Tommy’s insane offer. But in this post-apocalyptic world, nothing matters, not even the familial bonds you share with them. Your eyes shutter closed as you try to steady your breathing. The anticipation and nervousness are unbearable. 

“Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re wondering, darlin’...” Joel assures you in a calm, steady voice. His hands haven’t moved from their spot on your waist. The grip he has on you is gentle, reassuring. It's as if he’s trying to comfort you, and in some weird, fucked up way, it’s working. There’s no aggression or force in his touch, and the proximity of his body makes it hard for you to ignore the bulge pressing into your back. 

“Nothing bad?” You repeat. 

“Nothing bad,” Tommy and Joel say in unison. Their words soothe your nerves, but only a little. You take a deep breath, trying to settle your racing heart. You know that you can trust them and that they won’t hurt you. But still. The idea of being intimate with them is overwhelming - 

“Get on your knees -” Tommy instructs. 

Joel interjects, “Go slow, Tommy - we have all night with her,”

Tommy scowls, annoyed with his brother. However, you are already sliding down to the floor. A smug look flickers over Tommy’s face, and he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. To your surprise, he’s not wearing underwear, and his cock falls out. It’s big, and it points right at you. You peer at it, frozen in shock. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but suddenly, you’re left wondering if Joel is also blessed with a gift of this size. Or maybe, Tommy is the one who lucked out in the genetics department -

“You’ve sucked a cock before, haven’t you, Nic?” Tommy asks as his fingers touch your chin and his thumb swipes across your lower lip, opening your mouth. You nod, and slowly, Tommy’s cock replaces his hand. He makes a soft hissing sound as your lips slide down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Tommy threads his fingers through your hair as you babble around his cock. It’s a bit too deep for your liking, but a switch gets flicked, and all you want to do is prove yourself - you want to prove to your brother that you can suck cock. You hold his hips and bob your head, working your tongue against his arousal. But apparently, it’s not enough for Tommy because he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth, his cock reaching a dangerous depth, which causes your eyes to swell with tears. 

“I’ve dreamt of this filthy little mouth,” Eyes narrowing into slits, Tommy completely immerses himself into the fantasy. He can’t believe you are here, on your knees, sucking his cock. Joel loves it too, admiring how well you are doing, but he doesn’t like how rough Tommy is - he’s practically yanking your head down his shaft, making you gag and sputter. However, you don’t seem fazed by it. 

Joel can’t help but wonder if you’re genuinely enjoying it, and he knows the answer lies between your thighs. He kneels, hand snaking around your stomach and shoving into the waistband of your pants. You let out a muffled gasp of surprise but continued to gag and sputter around Tommy’s cock. Joel’s fingers are slow, but they move with purpose, and he teasingly presses them into your panties. He whispers into your ear, “You’re so fucking wet… does sucking your brother’s cock turn you on that much?” 

He taunts your clit, fingers circling it but never quite touching it. You’re gasping for air, hot tears tracking down your cheeks. Tommy quickly wipes them away, a tender action that leaves you feeling cared for as he continues to fuck your face. Joel senses your discomfort and tells Tommy to ease off. 

“Fuck, just let me -” Tommy groans, a familiar ache in his balls. He’s so fucking close; the tension is becoming unbearable. However, Tommy has to resign himself because he still wants to fuck you, and hastily, Tommy removes his cock from your mouth, groaning as a trail of spit dangles between your mouth and the tip of his well-sucked cock.

You greedily suck the air back into your lungs, chest heaving. Your eyelids flutter as Joel continues to apply pressure through the fabric of your panties, but you need more. You need him inside. Daringly, you ask: “Can we move this to the bed?” 

Tommy and Joel share a look. It’s so quick that you almost miss it. Joel stands, lifting you in the process. He twirls you around, places his large hands on your hips, and kisses you like a man starved. Joel doesn’t give a damn that you had Tommy’s cock in your mouth because Joel has been waiting for this and doesn’t want to hold back. He gives it all to you, nipping and sucking your lower lip. When Joel’s tongue touches yours, you groan. 

As your heart thrums wildly inside your chest, liquid heat pools in your core. It’s so wrong that it’s right. Any morals you once had are long gone. They don’t exist anymore. Joel cups your ass, gripping the fleshy mounds. You gasp, and Joel smiles before his lips travel down your jaw, planting kisses down to your neck, where his teeth graze your collarbone. His hands move up and play with the hem of your shirt, and in one swift motion, he lifts it off your body and tosses it to the side. 

Joel’s mouth continues to travel downward, and he closes his mouth against your tit. He’s all teeth and tongue with continuous suction — meanwhile, his other hand twists and tweaks your other nipple between his thumb and finger. Little mewls spill forth from your mouth, and your hands are groping Joel’s bulge through his jeans, desperate to feel his cock. 

“Take your pants off, Joel,” You demand, and to your surprise, he obeys. Joel strips and tosses his clothes. Unlike his brother, Joel wears underwear with a humorous pattern of hearts. It’s quite the contrast to his imposing physical ruggedness. It makes you smile and giggle - Joel’s eyebrow lifts quizzically. You shake your head, and the next thing you know, Joel is helping you out of your pants and lowering you down to the mattress where Tommy is already lying, waiting. His clothes have already been discarded. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel murmurs. You watch as the slightest tinge of pink rises to his cheeks. It makes you giddy. Only in your dreams has Joel said such things. Joel hovers, pushing your thighs open with his palms, kneeling between them, sliding lower and lower. He hooks a finger on your panties and glides them off your hips; they join the rest of the forgotten clothes in the room. 

Joel marvels at your glistening pussy that’s so swollen from having been kept in a state of anticipation. His fingertips sink so easily into your folds, parting them and gliding his digits through the slickness of arousal seeping out. Your head tilts back, eyes closing from the pleasure steadily streaming through your body. Joel lowers his face, inhaling your tantalizing scent, which unleashes a throaty moan from his chest. He’s gentle when carving a path through your arousal with his tongue, noting how your thighs twitch ever so slightly when he glides over your throbbing clit. 

“Mmm, how does she taste, Joel?” Tommy asks, voice breaking through the silence between the three of you—Joel answers by grunting. He’s a man of few words, even now. The vibration makes you clench and groan as your hands thread themselves through Joel’s hair because you need something to hold onto. His tongue circles your clit before licking downward and dipping into your wet hole. 

You hiss at the intrusion, “Fuck, Joel,” Never fucking ever did you think your brother would be this fucking good at eating pussy -

“Joel has quite the tongue, doesn’t he, Nic?” Tommy hums as he shifts his body, lying down next to you. His mouth hovers above your shoulder, and his warm breath strews across your skin as he lowers to your breast, tongue flicking your nipple. You groan as your brain goes hazy at the dual pleasure that is coursing through your body.

You don’t know what to focus on: Joel, who is ravaging your pussy, eating it like it's his last meal on earth, or Tommy, who is manhandling your tits, biting, sucking, and marking his territory by breaking your skin’s capillaries. 

Your chest heaves, and your teeth sink into your cheek. Liquid heat blossoms in your core, and your fingers grip Joel’s hair, practically ripping it out as his tongue takes a long, broad stroke up to your clit. You gasp as he sucks it into his mouth, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“You like that, Nic? You like it when Joel sucks your clit?” Tommy has quite a filthy mouth on him, and you nod, eagerly agreeing with his statement.

“Need more, though,” You murmur, and you watch as Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, yeah? Little Nicky needs more?” Tommy teases before instructing Joel to add a finger or two, and just like that, Joel’s middle finger is circling your tight, wet hole. Tapping at it, applying the lightest pressure before it sinks inside. You’re shifting continuously, trying to adjust and make room - you can't remember the last time someone penetrated you, and Joel’s finger is so thick.  

“Relax, Nicky,” Joel rasps out, “I’m not going to hurt you….”

You order yourself to relax, but Joel can tell it’s still too much for you because he has to hold down your hip, stilling it, with his other hand. Once more, Joel latches his mouth to your clit, and twirls bud tongue around it. When Joel adds a second digit, you give a half-yelp. And when Joel curls his fingers, hooking them inside, pressing against that sweet spongy spot, heat floods your body.

Your hips grind into his face, desperately wanting more - no - needing more. Joel knows you are close to releasing because your walls clench around his fingers, and your moans have become more frequent and erratic. You’re begging, pleading, to cum.

He closes his eyes and plunders his way through, lapping and sucking your every fold. He’s tuning you to a rhythm that has your hips rising to meet his pistoning fingers, and that’s when Joel hits that perfect combination, unleashing a wave that swells and rolls across your body. Your back arches off the mattress, squealing, “Oh, fucking hell, Joeeeeel-” 

Your core tightens, and your toes curl as bright lights burst across your shuttered eyelids. Sticky wetness pours out, covering Joel’s finger and mouth, but he doesn’t stop until you’re thrashing beneath him. Unable to take any more, you gently push him away; otherwise, you know he won’t be stopping anytime soon. 

Having denied his meal, Joel gives you a sullen look with pouty lips that glisten with your nectar. You shudder at the sight and reach for Joel’s body because you need him and his cock. You tug off his boxers, springing free a heavy and lengthy cock, similar to Tommy’s. At the sight of pre-cum dribbling down from his slit, your mouth waters. 

“Like what you see, Nic?” Joel rasps as his hand reaches down, closing his fist around it. He pumps it once, twice, and you swear, it’s bigger than before. Your eyes widen, thinking it’s too big - this is something you haven’t considered before. Your past partners definitely did not measure up to what your brothers are packing. 

“It’s so big….” Your voice trails off, heat blossoming across your cheeks. You feel silly for asking, “Is it even going to fit?”

Joel smirks, “Oh, darlin’... that’s why Tommy goes first -” 

“That’s fucking right,” Tommy growls. Suddenly, Tommy’s hands groped your body, pulling you up the mattress so you’re in its center. Joel sees your disappointment. He knows you want him to be the first, but Joel and Tommy prefer it this way. It’s not only better for them, but it’s also better for you. Tommy’s cock is the perfect starter. Meanwhile, Joel’s cock is the perfect finisher. 

Tommy looks elated as he positions himself between your thighs, cock in his hand as he nudges it through your slick, wet folds. A deep, throaty moan spills out of his mouth, and he pushes his cock into your entrance. Your cunt is pliant now but still not loose enough, he comments, “Ah, what a tight fucking cunt you got, Nic,” 

It hurts, but it’s a good hurt. The type that makes you want more, and so you open your thighs, making room for Tommy. His body vibrates with tension, and he glides his cock forward, sinking into wetness with a sudden thrust. Your mouth falls open, “Shit, Tommy -”

“Fucking hell, Nicky,” He groans, rolling his hips back and snapping them forward as your velvety hole welcomes every inch of him. His throat bobs, sucking in a sharp breath, “Fucking better than I could’ve ever imaged,”

“Yeah?” You reply breathlessly. You hate to admit it, but dirty-talking Tommy is doing inexplicable things to your body and mind. You need to hear more; his encouragement alone could easily drive you to another orgasm. 

“Yeah, Nic - fucking perfect cunt,” Tommy drops his head against your shoulder, his cock nuzzled deep in your cunt. He’s trying to catch his breath, and he’s trying not to spill his entire load right then and there. But having you in this position, your walls suctioning all around him, is making him disintegrate. 

His stomach flexes, struggling to remain composed - fuck. The lack of pussy has him weak, skirting the edge of an orgasm all too soon. He’s barely even fucked you. He’s disappointed in himself. You feel Tommy’s embarrassment, and you wrap your arms around his torso, whispering into his ear, “C’mon, Tommy… don’t you want to make my pussy feel good?”

You start rocking your hips, needing more friction than what he can give. He hisses at the movement, body trembling against yours, “Fuck me, Tommy - fuck me,” Your legs shift around, locking Tommy in place as your pussy clenches around his cock, coaxing him to move. To do something. 

“You feel so good,” You lick and nip at his earlobe. He hisses in response, his hips slowly bucking to meet yours. He’s trudging forward, head hanging low, trying not to blow his entire load. 

“Mmm, do you like my pussy -”

“No more talking,” Tommy tries to quell you. Eyes closed, jaw straining, “You’re gonna make me cum, talking like that,”

Cockily, you continue to spew filth at him, “Oh, yeah, Tommy? Are you gonna cum in my pussy - are you gonna come in your sister’s pussy?”

Heart pumping wildly inside his chest, Tommy’s body seizes, and his orgasm punches through. A shaky groan, gritty and low, escapes from his chest. The room fills with ragged breathing as he ejaculates his sticky seed in your cunt. As his cock twitches and empties, Tommy shudders and gasps into your shoulder. 

His body presses against yours, needing momentary support as he wrestles with himself, feeling mortified at his lack of stamina. He used to go for hours; hell, girls would line up for a chance with Tommy fucking Miller. So, it takes him an extra moment to convince himself that this was just a one-off. 

“Next time?” He whispers, hoping - what is the likelihood you’ll be down for another round? You plant a tender kiss against his chin, hands sweeping across his sweaty temple, repeating, “Next time,”

His eyes, full of potential, snap to yours. He gives you a sheepish smile. You know you will want more after tonight because what else is there to do in this post-apocalyptic world?

Tommy moves, and as soon as he does, Joel is there to replace his brother. You barely have time to think before Joel is raising your knees, angling them apart.  Joel’s movements are quick and precise. He’s been restlessly watching you get fucked, and he’s relieved that Tommy only took five minutes because now, it’s his turn. Joel feels like he has been waiting his entire life for this moment; now, it’s here. It’s actually happening. 

A giddiness rushes over Joel, and his stomach flutters with anticipation as his eyes hungrily glaze over. He’s ready, so fucking ready to give you what you deserve. Teasingly, Joel glosses the tip of his cock past your poised entrance and rubs it against your delectable wet folds that have unmistakable evidence of Tommy. Your response is a throaty groan, watching Joel mix the precum leaking from his cock with Tommy’s leftovers.

You’re feeling lightheaded, dizzy with desire. Oh, how you’ve craved Joel. You spent decades yearning for him; you went far too long feeling like a depraved little slut for wanting to fuck your step-brother. Your perverted little fantasy is finally coming true - you have him right where you want.

Joel takes the plunge, his cock nudging into your cunt. It’s almost too much. Without Tommy’s cock to start you off, Joel would’ve never fit. You peek at the point of penetration; the sight is better than anything you dreamed of. Except his cock isn’t entirely inside - not even half. Joel definitely has an extra inch or two than Tommy. You wiggle and squirm, breathing out a scattered whimper that exudes impatience.

“Joel,” You mewl, hands groping his neck and chest. You need something to hold onto because he’s starting to push against the resistance. Joel grunts as your tight velvet walls keenly greet his cock, welcoming him inside. He doesn’t stop until he has bottomed out, cock buried to the hilt. Splitting and spreading you open, almost until a breaking point where you’re gasping at being so filled. He barely moves an inch, and your walls automatically clench, sealing around him. 

“Shit, Nic - Tommy’s right. Your cunt is so fucking tight,” Joel pulls out, and his hands slide to the small of your back, lifting into your body as he pushes back into molten wetness. He does this over and over, rubbing against the spot in your velvet channel. Your thighs tremble as a blissful pleasure travels up your spine. However, you ache for more friction. 

Noise pitches from the back of your throat, “Harder, Joel - fuck me harder,” 

And he does. He pushes your knees against your chest and tilts his hips, snapping forward with such force that you cry out, your nails digging into the side of his torso. In a matter of seconds, Joel’s thrusts have become exploratory - going from shallow to deep, reaching a point of no return as he plunders forward.

Your entire body begins pulsating, a feverish wave rolling through. A second climax is upon you, the throes of euphoria building inside your body as Joel swiftly continues, elated that he’s about to give you what you deserve. You are panting incoherent nonsense as Joel relentlessly drives his cock in and out, in and out. 

He slides a hand between your bodies, quickly finding your clit and tweaking it between his finger and thumb. Your pelvis canted upwards to meet his touch. Urgently, you gasp, needing more pressure because it’s insufficient. Joel, somehow an expert in your body, does precisely that.

Joel palms your clit, sending continuous shocks across your core, making it impossible to ignore the building pressure. When you hit the peak, it’s an endless stream of obscenities. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You thrash beneath him, thighs squeezing shut, but Joel rips them open. He charges his hips into yours, riding your orgasm out; he loves how your smooth walls flutter around his cock, milking him. Cock drenched with your juices, Joel plows, his thrusts becoming shallow and rough. He grabs your hips, trying to control them, but you continue to undulate beneath him, desperately trying to meet his rhythm because you want Joel to fill your cunt with his cum. 

“Fill my pussy, Joel, fill it -” You coax him, voice reedy, hitching on the last word. Joel’s eyes shuttered close, his lashes like dark half-moons against his skin. Your pussy is persistent, swallowing his cock without resistance now. 

A rush of ecstasy flits through Joel’s body, and within seconds, the tension of the coil is snapping. He loses control, and his strokes stutter out, cock surging with a powerful load of spunk that paints the inside of your cunt.

“Holy fuck, Nic,” Joel’s head snaps back, his throat shuddering as he tries to calm the carnal rush raging through his body. His cock twitches and convulses as it continues to empty weeks' worth of pent-up frustration. You marvel at the feeling of being stuffed with your brother’s warm seed, legs locking around his waist because you need every single drop. 

As it ends, Joel’s energy drains. The excitement has dulled into the tranquility of release. As he gently pulls out of the warmth, his movements are sluggish. You feel the remnants of your brother's love seeping out of your gaping, used hole. Your taboo appetite has been satiated, and you’re excited about the prospect of what will happen next time. You are thinking of taking both their cocks at the same time when Joel’s voice interrupts the daydream: “Still thinking of leaving us, Nic?”

You give a breathy giggle, "No, I'm thinking about what it feels like to fuck the both of you at the same time,"

[thelovelylolly]

a request for Tommy Miller coming to the rescue when readers car breaks down late at night + Tommy putting his coat around her so she doesn't get cold.

🩷

Car Troubles

summary: your car breaks down and you know only one person who's up this late warnings: being alone in the middle of nowhere at night (not sure if that's a true warning, but might as well), pre/no outbreak, fem! reader who's described as smaller than tommy word count: 1.2k notes: tommy my love, he'd come to anyone's rescue and i love him for that (also this is so funny bc my car died on me the other day and i had to get it jumpstarted by someone else lmao)

"No, no, no!" You yelled as you hit your steering wheel.

You were able to pull your car to the side of the road right before the battery died. You groaned as you tried to turn your key, hoping the engine would turn over. Instead, you heard a wheezing sound from your engine before you stopped trying. You leaned your head against the head rest and ran through all your options.

You could try to figure things out by yourself and fix it, but it was late and you were alone on an empty road. You didn't really want to get out of your car at all, you didn't want to risk becoming a face on a missing poster. Which left you with your second option, calling someone.

You didn't know what time it was or how far you were from town, so most of your friends most likely wouldn't answer or be willing to come get you. Most meaning everyone, except for Tommy.

You quickly grabbed your phone from your purse in the passenger's seat and dialed his number. As it rang, you made sure your doors were locked and you didn't see anyone suspicious around.

"Hello?" Tommy's tired voice came from the other end.

"Hey, Tommy, it's me," you quickly answered.

"Oh, hey, sweetheart. Why are you calling me this late? Everything okay?" He asked as you heard sheets shifting around in the background.

You ignored the way his nickname for you made your cheeks warm a bit. "My car died on the side of the road. Do you think you can come get me or jumpstart my car?"

"Yeah, I'll come get you," he paused to quickly pull on some pants and a shirt before swiping his keys from his dresser, "where are you?"

"I'm a few miles from the highway, on the exit with that retro diner," you said.

"Alright, do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

"I would, but I should probably save the battery. I'll call you if it's an emergency, okay?"

"Okay, see you in a bit, sweetheart," he said before hanging up.

You sighed and put your phone back in your bag before leaning back in your seat. You wrapped your arms around yourself as a shiver ran through you. Of course the night your car decided to die was one of those rare nights in Austin when the air was brisk and windy.

You tried to ignore the slight chill slipping into your car by thinking about other things, mainly Tommy. You were happy you had a friend like him. Not only was he willing to help no matter the time of day, he was caring and funny. He was also handsome, but you'd never say it out loud. You didn't want to cross that line between friends and more, even though you two had been dancing around it for months.

Were you waiting for him to give you a sure sign he was into you? Maybe, but was that so bad? You were willing to be the one who makes the first move, you just didn't want to misread anything between you two.

However, Tommy being a gentleman and coming to your rescue late at night was making it harder not to make that first move.

You saw headlights approaching and were brought back to the present. You watched as Tommy got closer and pulled off to the side of the rode in front of your car. You quickly got out of your car and walked over to his driver's side to meet him.

"Hey," you said, crossing your arms in front of you to keep yourself warm in the brisk night air.

"Hey, you doin' alright, sweetheart?" He replied, his accent becoming heavier with his tiredness.

"I'm fine, just ready to go home, y'know?"

"Then, let's get this car fixed."

He flashed you a smile before walking over and popping your engine open. You moved to the side of your car and watched him work, his headlights being the only good source of light. Watching his hands work made you forget about the cold for a moment, but a sudden breeze caused your teeth to chatter and your hands to shake for a few seconds.

Tommy glanced up at you, worry in his eyes. "You cold?"

"Y-yeah, but I'll-"

He cut you off by standing up and taking off his jacket. He stepped closer and wrapped his jacket around your shoulders. It was big on your frame, you nearly drowned in it, but you didn't care as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. The jacket smelled like him and it gave you some relief from the cold. Tommy was standing close to you, so close that if you leaned forward just a bit, your lips would meet.

You saw his eyes fall then meet yours again. He cleared his throat and stepped away, getting back to work. He found your battery before going and grabbing his jumper cables, then turned the ignition off on his car. He quickly opened his engine up and found his battery.

He then handed the cables to you to put on your battery. Once both cables were on, he turned to you and met your gaze. "Let's see if it worked."

You nodded with a smile, then rounded your car and hopped in the driver's seat. You turned your keep and the engine finally turned over. You got out of the car and quickly went over to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you!" Your words were muffled with your face buried in his neck.

He laughed as his arms wrapped tightly around you. "Anytime, sweetheart."

You pulled away just enough to meet his eyes, the two of you smiling like idiots. You saw his eyes dart down again, and you took that as your sign. You leaned in slowly, a bit hesitant, too. As you just started to tilt your head to the side, Tommy closed the gap between you two. Your lips met and it made all that time dancing around your feelings worth it. His lips were soft and fit with yours perfectly as he pulled you even closer. The cold, the cars, everything went out the window and your thoughts were just him and his lips.

It only lasted a few moments, but it felt much longer. You both pulled away and slowly let each other go.

"You, uh, need anything else?" He asked, his hands holding yours for the last bit of contact.

You shook your head. "I think I'm good." Especially after kissing you, you silently add on.

"Alright, well," he finally let your hands go and took care of the cables before shutting your engines, "I'll call you tomorrow."

You two stand between your cars, not really wanting the moment to end. "Sounds good," you reply with a smile.

He quickly kissed your cheek, his lips staying close to your ear. "Talk to you then, sweetheart."

Leaving you blushing, he rounded his car and went to the driver side. You watched as he climbed in before doing the same. He pulled back out onto the road first and you followed behind him.

Maybe you should have car troubles more often.

[angsty-twihardxx]

Hi Victoria!

I was wondering if you can write female reader with Tommy Miller. They somehow meet at Jackson and they develop a relationship. The reader is inexperienced and Tommy suggests that the reader does dry humping on his thigh since reader isn’t ready to have sex with him. While reader does this there is nipple play and he gives reader hickeys.

Also, I’m sorry if the way I requested this is weird I’m not good at writing out requests😅

A/N: omg! I absolutely loved this! Just fyi I was drinking wine when I wrote this so completely self indulgent ngl. This is my first lil request so I hope I make you proud! Also I haven’t really written a lot of smut so don’t know how good it’ll be, but anything for this sexy Texan x

Warnings: 18+ only! HELLA SMUT. This is basically filth.

@garbinge thought you might enjoy this as well (If you would like to be added to my Tommy Miller tag list lemme know) x

Come checkout my masterlist for more Tommy Miller fics here

RIDING LESSONS | T. MILLER

You were working with the horses the day he came through the gate, you were taking off one of the horses saddles when you saw him for the first time. Snow had just began to fall, a thin layer of white covering the ground. His dark-coal hair stood out from the white sky as it sat near his shoulders, his moustache covering his nearly blue lips.

Even though he was covered in layers of clothing you could tell that he was strong, his biceps hugging the fabric. His shoulders were broad, covered with a thick denim jacket.

Your face went red in embarrassment as his golden brown eyes locked onto yours, but before you could advert your eyes he sent a warm smile your way. It was quick and sweet the way it all happened, nothing out of the ordinary it seemed on the outside. Not knowing that each other’s heart picked up a few more beats per second, Tommy was no longer worried about the chill on his fingertips. Instantly for no apparent reason his mind told him to walk up to you and introduce himself.

But before he could take a step towards you he was swooped away by Maria for a tour.

Growing up in Jackson, you were never interested in dating. You spent most of your teens busy surviving from infected to worry about what boys looked cute. You guessed without thinking you continued that way of thinking, even though growing to be a mature woman and living in a safe commune where you could live a ‘normal life’. Like many other people your age were finding partners, getting married and having kids you continued to work and keep yourself busy.

Since Tommy arrived, he had worked hard to find you again. He hoped he would patrol so he would have an excuse to go to the stables and talk to you. But no luck, he had been working non stop helping patch up some buildings before the snow was at its heaviest. He had been installing a new roof on one of the shops when he saw you walking along the streets with some crates.

Even though you were wrapped in a thick coat and your hair was covered in a beanie, he still recognised you. Standing up Tommy told the others he’d be back.

You were trying to carry more than one crate at once, even though your arms weren’t long enough to do so you still tried. ‘Your a stubborn one’ he thought to himself as he got closer. Fog flew from your mouth as you huffed in frustration.

You jumped when you felt another hand brush past yours and lift the crates out of your arms. “You're alright, I got it.” You blushed, as he flashed you that same smile when you first saw him, it never failed to send you butterflies. “Thank you—“ You dragged, realising that you in fact hadn’t figured his name yet.

“—Tommy.” He finished for you, his Texan accent made your stomach do somersaults. “Where you want these darlin’?”

“Oh, just drop them off at the bar thank you. Got some orders to drop off today.” You tried your best to compose yourself, usually when men in town would flirt you would let them down softly. Say the usual line, sorry not interested. But this man you had barely met had you intrigued.

“Y’need any help?” Tommy placed the boxes down for you with ease then resting his fists on his hips as his eyes landed on you again. You couldn’t help but pause again, the way his muscles formed under the sleeves of his shirt. Or how his hair stuck to his ivory skin, even though it was absolutely freezing he still had broken a sweat. There was just something about his eyes on you that made you melt into a puddle.

“Uh yeah sure, if you're not busy. But I was going to have a bite to eat first if you wanted to join me?”

. . .

It was nearing Christmas and you and Tommy were getting pretty serious. Doing all the things that couples do, he spent so much time at your house anyway he basically lived there so that transition went smoothly. You went on dates, amazing ones.

Just a few weeks ago he had taken you on the horse out to a secret lookout he had found on his travels. And to say it was beautiful was an understatement, he found a spot and the two of you sat near the edge of the high cliffs and watched the water. You hadn’t ever really been outside of Jackson much, you never really had a reason too. “Maybe I’ll take you out further next time, find a nice little place to camp for the night.” He told you, draping his arm to hang loosely over your shoulders. It was relaxing, being with him you never felt any pressure to do anything you didn’t want to.

“I think I’d like that.” You responded honestly, never would you of gone out here with any of the other boys you dated. But from some of the stories he told you about himself, you knew that he’d take care of you.

And he did extremely well, a part of you felt bad that you couldn’t do more, when it came to being in a relationship. Sexually that is. But you couldn’t stop the anxious feeling you got whenever the subject was mentioned. ‘What if I’m not good enough at it? What if it hurts? What if he gets sick of waiting?’ That was your biggest fear, so you had a plan to lose your virginity.

Everyone had been working hard to pull together a big dinner for everyone, roast chickens from the pen inside the compound and lots of vegetables. There was even kids playing along the street by the giant Christmas tree. They had been doing this here since they had the supplies for it so this was something you were used to. Tommy on the other hand, looked taken aback. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t seen anything like it in years.” He smiled as his hand squeezed yours in reassurance, that he was happy. You knew that he had left his brother in Boston QZ, so you understood that this was going to be hard for him. You hoped you could do a good job of distracting him tonight, after dinner.

As soon as Tommy closed the door behind you, both of you stripped off your coats. The fireplace was blaring heat throughout the home. You were taking off your boots when a pair of hands spun you around. Tommy wrapped his arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “Thanks for tonight baby. I loved it.” He spoke softly, his eyes softening as he smiled.

You took this as your chance, you moved in for another kiss. Except now you pushed onto his lips harder, wanting to fill the space between you. Wrapping your arms around his neck you moaned into his mouth, his rough hands danced up your spine, sending you goosebumps. Tommy was surprised at the way you leaped onto him, not that he was complaining.

Tommy was expecting to have a quiet night in, the two of you huddled up on the sofa and you reading to him the newest book he found for you on his last patrol. He thought he was going to fall asleep in your lap, and he would have been happy with that.

Not that he complained when you grasped his wrist in your hand and dragged him up the hallway and pinned him against the closed door, kissing him fevently.

As his lips dragged down along your jaw, Tommy took another step forward. The two of you moving past the door, you let out a small gasp as the back of your knee met with the soft fabric of your bed. ‘Holy shit you're actually going to do this?’ You tried to ignore that part of your brain as your body instinctively fell backwards into the mattress.

Tommy soon followed, climbing over the top of you has his chest hovered just a few centimetres above you. His shoulder length hair curtaining you from the outside world, you were safe here— just the two of you. Your fingers laced through his curls and tugged on them, needing him as close to you as possible.

Then why did you feel so uneasy? Maybe it was meant to feel that way, a friend of yours telling you when you're close to an orgasm you can feel it in your stomach. Was this it?

“What’s the matter baby? Y’alright?” He pulled back, noticing how your body began to stiffen underneath him.

You sighed, annoyed with yourself. “I just- I wanted to try and go all the way. But I-I dont think I’m ready.” You dropped your gaze, an annoyed huff leaving your mouth.

“And I told you I’m more than happy to wait for you baby, why are you so worried about it all of a sudden?” His frown deepened at your lack of silence, his hand moving to gently pull a piece of hair behind your ear.

God he loved you, and he would do whatever it took to make sure you knew that. He would wait as long as it took. He never wanted you to think that you had to rush into anything with him, he would wait forever.

“I just don’t want you to get bored with me.”

Tommy’s eyes softened, which you hated. That look that made you feel like a child, the same pitiful look that everyone gave you when they heard about your sex life— or lack thereof.

“Darlin’ I could never get bored of you. Trust me, I’m happy to wait as long as you need too.”

“I want to— I just want to go slow.” Your cheeks warmed, at the tension pooling in your underwear. You weren’t stupid, you grew up around your share of horny teens who never stopped talking about sex. Even growing up your friends told you about their experiences, what it felt like. You just haven’t met someone that you wanted to do it with, until now.

Your body reacted in a way you never experienced before when you met Tommy. He made you want to try new things, when his large hands lingered on your skin it made you want to do all the things you read about. Especially because Tommy was so much more experienced than you, feeling a bit inadequate when he told you how different he was before the outbreak. Not that he ever deliberately made you feel bad, he made it his mission to make sure you were comfortable.

“Well how about we try somethin’ else, yeah?” He flashes a playful grin your way as you nod. Cocking your head to the side, confused what else there was to do? “Why don’t you take those off for me sweetheart?”

He indicates to your pants, you pause up and look at him, innocence and confusion written all over your face. “You trust me baby?” You nodded again, your mouth failing you. “I need your words sweetheart.”

“‘Course I trust you.” That was all Tommy needed because he was up off the bed in a heartbeat, he reached his hand out to you which you took. As your feet landed on the wooden floor you quickly made work to throw your pants on the ground, leaving you in just your shirt and underwear.

You thought you had a pretty decent idea about sex, until you saw Tommy move to sit on the edge of the bed. Tommy noticed your confusion and gently patted his thigh. “Come take a seat darlin, I got lots of ways to make you feel good.”

You felt the same tingling in between your legs as he spoke, there was something so dirty about it that made you feel good.

Tommy helped you as you moved to sit on his thigh. He grasped onto your hips and held onto you firmly, you wrapped your arms over his neck again for stability. You tried to act like you hadn’t noticed his erection throbbing under you.

“Now I’ll help you alright darlin’? Just watch what I’m doing.” He whispered into your ear as his grip on you tightened. Your hips grind slowly onto the denim pants that he wore, he moved you slowly. You closed your eyes as the friction on your clothed pussy had your stomach in knots, this was the feeling your friend was talking about.

“You feel good baby?” Tommy’s voice was like a dream for you as his hands still worked your hips on him, his worries dissipated as you mewled into his shoulder. “‘Feels like fireworks.” You gasped, your eyes squeezed shut.

“That’s good baby, y’reckon you could do it yourself?” Tommy looked up at you earnestly, his eyes glued on your face as the pleasure pooled in your stomach. You nodded vigorously, concentrating on moving your hips at a steady pace. Tommy groaned as you leaned harder onto him, his hot breath on your ear had your hips snapping.

“Lean back baby.” He breathed, helping you as you did so. His cock twitching in his pants at the sight of you. Your head tipped back as your mouth fell open, the sounds that were falling out of your mouth was going to make him bust in any minute. Without hesitation he ripped off the button up you had on, you were too busy anyway to scold him for ruining your one nice shirt.

His calloused hands made quick work to cup your breasts as they bobbed with every snap of your hips. “Let’s take this off shall we? Keep going baby, doin’ so good for me.”

Hearing him praise you like that had you weak, your rutts had quickened with your uneven pace. You could feel your stomach tightening with every passing second. A part of you wondered why you were so nervous when something like this could feel so good.

You simply lifted up your arms, letting Tommy take off the bra for you. Shuddering as the cold air reached your now hardened nipples, but was quickly erased as you felt his lips on them, using his tongue to capture the hardened bud. His other hand kneading your breasts, you felt like you were going to explode.

“Tommy I-I think—“

“Y’gonna come for me darlin’?” Tommy already knew the answer as your breath hitched, using this as his time to move his attention to the other side. You didn’t know how much longer you could go, all the pressure inside you was looking and you couldn’t hold on much longer. The way Tommy’s hands attacked at your breasts in an animalistic way you had never seen before, you loved the way his rough hands felt on you.

You needed him everywhere.

Tommy somehow understood the best way to make you unravel on top of him. “C’mon baby come for me.” His hand travelled to the back of your neck, pulling you back against his chest. His mouth attacked at the skin of your neck this time, sucking on the soft nape and leaving red angry marks along your beautiful neck. He fucken loved the thought of the two of you walking into town and everyone being able to see his handiwork all over your body, they would all know that you're his.

Just the thought of it had your body shake as the pressure in your stomach snapped, your orgasm coursing through your body. “Oh my god Tommy!” You cried out, all you could see was white as your hips shook uncontrollably on top of his, your entire body shuddering against him.

“That’s it baby good girl.” He praised you again, pressing his mouth to leave another hickey on your neck. Not that you would notice, still coming down from your high you could barely hear a word coming from Tommy as your ears rang.

Gently, he lifted you up to place you down on the bed and lay beside you, watching as your chest raised quickly and fell just as fast. If it weren’t for the smile on your face he would be worried that he’d taken it too far. His hand softly brushed against your arm, his touch now soft and gentle, like the last twenty minutes didn’t happen. “How was that baby?” He asked softly, as if deep down he was still a little bit conscious.

“That was amazing.”

“I can tell, made such a mess on my jeans.” He smiles devilishly at you.

[cuppajoel]

Stock Rotation | One for the Road

Pairing: young!Joel Miller x f!oc

Chapter Summary: Already late for work, your day doesn't get much better when your boss tells you he has to sell the bar. Being the fix-it person for the establishment, you try to put your best foot forward in meeting the potential new owners.

Chapter Warnings: language, set in a bar, light flirtation that could have sexual connotation, awkward encounter(s), female oc has a name but referred to mostly as 'you' no physical descriptions given, f!oc is able bodied, pet names- read at your own discretion!

WC: 5.9k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: This is pretty much all exposition. I had a lot of fun and hope you enjoy! Pls like/ reblog if you do.

Series masterlist

The harsh crunch from your clutch made your jaw tighten as you shifted too quickly into third gear. Everything this morning sang with that grinding, metal on metal sound. 9:28am. “Late. Late. Late. Late.”

In reality, you’re not late. Officially, the schedule says you start around midday, Marty definitely hasn’t opened up yet, and it’s the second Monday of the month, stock day, meaning that there’ll be no customers until 5pm. You are not late. But on Mona time? You are late. 

The rest of the roster of Dusky’s Bar actively avoid this shift like the plague. Volunteering to switch Friday or Saturday closes just to shake the stock rotation loose. Lucky for them, you create the schedule, meaning this very shift that you are driving to means hours and hours of uninterrupted restoration of order back to the bar after a busy holiday weekend. Organising the back? Deep cleaning the shelves? Stock rotation? Bliss. 

You swipe on your blinker, checking left, right, left again before pulling up into the next street, parking just outside the bar with the unlit open sign. Parked parallel on the other side of the road was a beat-up blue pick-up. To the untrained eye, it looked exactly like the other hundred pick-ups that could be found within a square mile of this place, but with the head of silver hair, clubman sunglasses and full greying moustache it could only belong to Marty. 

The greying man clicked his tongue, glanced down at his watch and shook his head. “And what time d’ya call this, sweet thing? Had me worried sick over here.” He took off his glasses, tucking one of the legs over the neck of his shirt and looked up at you with a glitter in his eye. 

“The first time in 4 years you get here before me and you start getting cocky, Marty? I thought better of you.” You fall into stride next to one another. 

“I dunno, got excited about using my set for a change.” He jingled his keys in your face, stepping slightly ahead of you to begin unlocking the door. 

“Here before 10 and you brought your keys? You feelin’ okay, Mart?” You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, fiening concern. 

Marty rolled his eyes in your direction, his trademark, close-lipped smirk where it should be as he opened the door, stepping to the side to let you ahead of him. Stepping through, you automatically turned your attention to the small beeping box hanging on the wall to your left. You punched in the code, before pushing through the hinged barn doors which opened to ‘Dusky’s’. 

You and Marty fell into a rhythm which felt like coming home to your own bed after vacation. Marty picked up the mail, shuffling through the various sized envelopes, fliers, and magazines before setting it on the table of the booth nearest the bar. You found yourself around the other side of the great mahogany coloured counter, opening the small cabinet to your right and flicking on the switches one after another as well as the espresso machine which was sitting beside it. 

Slowly but surely, the whole place was illuminated. Rich reds, blues, and greens of the various neon signs let in a comforting buzz of sound as the lights underneath the hundreds of bottles of liquor brought a warmth to the building which was still waking up. Above you, four hanging pendant lights with a rounded glass shade illuminated-the fifth unlit. You huff. “I got someone coming in today, for that.” Marty mused, not looking in your direction but rather fiddling with the jukebox to the left of the bar. 

“I got a new bulb in at the weekend, you should let me try it first- save them the trip.” You reply, starting to prepare the first of many coffees that you’ll have today. The first of which is with Marty, always with Marty. The man didn’t return acknowledge your plan for the faulty light, too busy flipping through the pages of the jukebox picking just the right song to start the day off. 

You finish off your task of seeking caffeination by steaming the milk for both your coffees and adding the tiniest sprinkle of chocolate flakes to the top of each. It wasn’t until you found yourself alone in the booth that you realised that Mart still hadn’t picked the song of the morning. “Hey, old man it’s gettin cold ova here… ” you say taking your first sip and mocking is faded Jersey accent. 

“I’m comin’ babydoll…” he said, playing it up just for you. At that, he clicked the select button to solidify his choice. He pulled his reading glasses off the end of his nose before nestling them gently into his slicked back hair, making the short walk back over to the booth and slipping into the side opposite you. 

There is freedom within There is freedom without Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup There's a battle ahead Many battles are lost But you'll never see the end of the road While you're travelling with me

You sat, steam rising from the coffee cup in front of you as you shuffled through todays mail. “What’s this? 80s? A rogue choice, Martin. Why do I feel a sense of looming?” You joked, your eyes peeking up at him as he looked right back at you that glitter dulled slightly. “Cassie said the close last night went well. It was meant to be her and Craig but he switched with Maria so that she could pull the double. Which obviously means the close was beautiful…” your hands continued shuffling through the plump stack of paper as you began sorting through it subconsciously: bill, bill, trash, postcard from an old regular who moved to Florida a few months back, that will join the rest of ‘em behind the bar, bill. 

Now I'm towing my car There's a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion But there's no proof In the paper today Tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the TV page

“I think the brewery order should be coming in about 12:30 so it gives me a couple of hours to run the lines through and flush ‘em out and get the empty kegs outta the back door… We also are getting two extra kegs of Miller because there was a bad one in the last order but I sorted it with Gerry…” 

“We’ve gotta meeting at 12:30.”

“Hmm?” Your hands slowed their shuffling but eyes remained on the task you’d undertaken.

“You and I have a meeting at 12:30.” 

“Is this for the new staff? I’m sure that they’re coming in tomorrow, lunchtime so that they can get a scope of the place during the day?” You furl your brow at him in trying to recall the specifics of the interview you set up as you took another sip of coffee. 

Now I'm walking again To the beat of a drum And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart Only shadows ahead Barely clearing the roof Get to know the feeling of liberation and release

“Mona...” Your attention snapped directly to the man in front of you, your actual full name only ever crossing his lips a handful of times in the five years you’ve known him. “There’s two guys coming in today about the bar… Chelle got the call from her sister about her ‘Ma… we’re havin’ to go up…”

You shook your head, eyes narrowing as you looked to the man in front of you. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t ya think? I can handle the bar for the 8 weeks your back up in Jersey… Don’t you remember how beautiful everything was when you came back off your honeymoon and I got everything revarnished?” You tilted your head and gave him one of your warm closed-mouth smiles- the ones that were always mirrored back to you. 

“No Mone, it’s not for the 8 weeks anymore… it’s done… the Parkinson’s made it so her Mom needs round the clock care and Chelle needs to be there…I gotta be there.” He lets go of a breath that he has been holding since he’d set foot in the door as you begin to hold yours. You start chewing on the inside of your bottom lip, trying so desperately to swallow the news but it won’t go down. Your eyes drop his gaze and you tilt your head back, trying to keep the tears that have whelled in your eyes from actually falling- from this actually happening. You knew that Marty wouldn’t have this place forever, but you didn’t think this would happen now. 

Two soft, warm hands come up to cradle your cheeks, gently guiding your face back down so that your eyes meet. “I need you here Mone… This place needs you here…” he says, catching the slow stream of silent tears and swiping them with his thumbs. “That’s why we have the meeting. Nothin’ is gonna happen until we… me and you are certain that these guys understand what this place needs…” 

“Marty…” you say softly, the lump in your throat burning, your eyes exploding with the million things that you want to say but can’t get out.

 “My darlin’, this place does not run without you…” his gaze softens more somehow. “If I could, I’d sign it all over to ya today but I gotta buy a house… I gotta haul my ass all the way back to Jersey… and you…” he drops one of his hands to lay on top of yours on the table “you are not spending a dime of those savings on this old-man bar…” 

You try hard to take in the words that he’s saying. In in ideal world, you could take this opportunity to be dramatic; to refuse the less than ideal situation that this man had offered you and leave kicking, screaming and tearing every goddamn picture frame down as you went. But this isn’t an ideal world. You don’t get to be the dramatic and entitled barmaid. The truth was that Marty was a big part of what made this place special, but the work you’d put in, the relationships and friendships you’d formed with regulars, staff, and breweries made it what it was. You also had people relying on you. You don’t get to quit and say fuck the consequences. 

“Today is the first in-person meeting… my lawyers have been talking to theirs about money and land and blah, blah, blah… Nothing is set. We need to have a good feelin’ about ‘em and they need to understand that this place will crumble without you…” his other hand joins his first, holding onto yours on the table and squeezing to pull your focus. 

Hey now, hey now Don’t dream it’s over

You blink again, causing a fresh stream of tears to fall and for two to drop onto the table that separates you both. This is actually happening. You inhale through your nose, allowing your chest to inflate before pushing a sharp puff of air through your lips. “What are their names?” You say, allowing the news to finally pass through you. 

“Miller.” Was the reply, Marty picking up his coffee with one hand.

You dipped your chin in acknowledgment, picking up the stack of discarded mail to finish your previous job. “I know I don’t gotta tell you, but I’d appreciate if no one else on the roster knew… not until we got it set in stone. People spook real easy when change happens.” You huffed out of amusement, sniffed the remaining tears away and picked up your coffee cup. “They gotta be real fucking spooky to scare me off.” 

By 12 the news of the possible new ownership had transformed to a firefly in your mind. When you were busy, focused, it was resting on a branch flickering softly on and off. When you paused, thinking about what you had to do next, it took off, buzzing from one corner to another, hot and purposeful flashes of danger and anxiety for what could be. Everytime you swatted it away with another stock day task. The glasses must’ve thought you had a vendetta against them by the way that they were scrubbed, put through the glass wash, and scrubbed again. 

Now, your attention was on the fifth, unworking, pendant hanging just above your head. You flicked the switch on and off a couple of times to see if that could fix it but of course it didn’t. You switched the lights off, not willing to electricute yourself and meet your new possible bosses in one day, and brought the small step stool, and replacement bulb behind the bar. The stool gave you the small boost that you needed to be brought nose to nose with your nemesis of the hour. You knelt on your haunches atop the bar, set the small cardboard box containing the new bulb just to the right of you and began to unscrew the old bulb. It was one of those rustic-looking ones where you could see the filament inside of it and to your untrained eye, it looked like that could be the source of your problem. You twisted and twisted until it came loose setting it to your left on the rubber bar liner and picking up its replacement, reversing the movements you’d just made. As you made small, circular movements between your pointer finger and thumb, you had to gently close one eye in order to pull your focus to the task at hand- the last thing you needed was hundreds of tiny shards of glass all over your bar. 

“Hi… excuse me…”

Your gaze dipped quickly to someone just past the threshold of the swinging barn doors. 

“I’m so sorry, we aren’t actually open yet my love…” your voice strained slightly as you were two turns away for securing the bulb. “It’s stock rotation day so we open at 5.”

“I gotta call from Marty…” the deep, southern voice trying to make themselves seem softer.

Your eyebrows pulled together at the bulb, giving it one miniscule nudge to the left so as not to over tighten it before finally allowing yourself to look at the person still standing in the doorway. Your eyes met his instantly and although the light had been dimmed slightly, due to your handiwork, all that you could see that was they were deep and dark but with a softness that put you at ease. 

“Oh shit… about the light? I’m hoping that I might have it fixed but you could maybe give me a hand?” Although phrased as a question, you tilted your head to the side and gave small sweet smile that didn’t leave room for negotiation. “Would you mind coming behind the bar and flicking on the switches behind that panel that is next to the coffee machine? I just wanna see if changing the bulb worked.” 

The man in the doorway paused for a moment. Although the dim light streaming through the shutters didn’t give you much, you could tell that he was looking right at you.  “I… uh… sure.” The man followed the natural layout of the bar floor, walking alongside the empty booths before curving around the bar front to get to the opening at the side. You could see him better now. He wore dark jeans that fit nicely at the waist, a charcoal-grey tee over which was a dark green brushed cotton shirt- the sleeves folded in on themselves to rest just below his elbow. He had soft, trimmed stubble which framed the lower half of his face which bled slightly onto his thick neck. You rested your hands on your thighs, your head tracking him as he stopped himself just in front of the coffee machine. 

“Yeah just-”

“This it?” he reached in to the wall just behind the coffee machine, his eyes, actually a dark, burnt-honey colour now that you see them closer and they creased at the sides, showing his age a little.

“Uh-huh, thank you” you smiled at him again, this time smaller and this time reciprocated by him- small, closed mouth smile that started with his eyes and ended with a dip of his chin. 

Click click click click

Click

“A-ha! I got you baby!” you rubbed your hands excitedly as the fifth bulb turned on right infront of you, pausing a moment to admire your handy work. “Well at least we got that right today, huh? I swear that coulda been the cause of my demise if that didn’t work.” you babbled on to no one as you put the old bulb in the new bulb’s box. “Thank you for the assistance…” you paused for him to say his name, you back still to him. 

“Joel.”

“Joel.” You repeated. “I appreciate it. I’m sorry if you had to make a long trip out here…” you started, looking back behind you to work out how to safely yourself down from the bar when you spot a large, outstretched hand waiting for yours. You glance, over your shoulder, up into the eyes of Joel. They were soft but his expression was still, as if offering his hand was a reflex. Your eyebrows draw together softly in surprise as you take the hand without a second thought untucking one leg from beneath you, and then the other, you left hand holding you steady as you brought yourself back to solid ground. 

You were closer to him now, showing the clear height difference between you both. You dropped the hand which returned you to safety- the one which completely enveloped your own. “Aren’t you a gentleman?” you teased but your smile and soft nod nothing but appreciative. You both stood still for a moment, a look of bashfulness crossing his cheeks.  “Can I get you a coffee or somethin’?…From the coffee machine…” you breathed out a small chuckle as you pointed quickly to the machine, now behind Joel- not wanting to insinuate anything.

From around the corner you could hear a faint whistle of Marty as he strolled from the back office into view. “Ahhhh Joel!” He said in that classic Marty way; warm and inviting like you were his best friend. Marty changed his pace to a light jog as Joel slipped from just beside you,the two men meeting in the middle just around the front of the bar with an outstretched hand each. “Nice to properly meet you buddy.” 

“Yeah, you too. I’m sorry if I’m a bit early…” he started his other hand coming up to pat Marty’s arm, reinforcing the handshake. 

“No, no don’t be sorry… I’m used to it with this one.” He joked giving you a soft wink. You decided to pick up a rag and spray to go over where you’d knelt on the bar moments ago but wanting to keep an ear on this conversation, not fully understanding what was happening. “You two get properly introduced?” Marty asked you both as he dropped Joel’s hand and pulled out a bar stool for himself and gestured to the one next to it for Joel. 

“Yeah we-“

“No.”

You and Joel spoke at the same time, your eyes snapping to one another as you let out a small, embarrassed chuckle and he let his tongue dampen his bottom lip. 

“I was gonna say that we got so far as names but-“

“Didn’t manage to catch yours…” he shook his head slightly, letting his lips purse, before settling on a soft, slightly crooked smile.

“Well Joel, this is Mona…” he said taking a seat on the worn stool. “Bar manager, events coordinator, handyman, administrator, one-time line cook… anything else I missed baby doll?” His eyes resumed glittering in the normal way.

“Apart from ‘the light of your life’ and ‘your reason for getting up in the morning’? Nah you’re good.” You returned his smirk. 

“And Mona, this is Joel Miller, one half of our scheduled meeting today.” Marty concluded the introduction with a short nod, his lips in a tight smile and his eyes saying ‘This is him’.

Before taking a seat on the stool next to Marty, Joel extended his hand to you again. “Ahhhh…” your eyes went wide but you caught yourself before your eyebrows flew to your hairline.  You met his hand with yours from across the bar- the size difference almost laughable as his hand dwarfed yours. You ensured to soften your gaze as your eyes met the ones that you’d looked up into multiple times over the past twenty minutes. “It’s nice to meet you Joel. I’m excited to hopefully get to work with you.” You said genuinely. That firefly that was once buzzing about the walls of your mind had slowed, its light reliable, steady. 

“Likewise.” He responded, taking the stool next to Marty. “I’m hopin’ that my brother shouldn’t be too far behind me here…” he said, lifting his left wrist to look at the time.

“Well I can get started on some coffees?” You asked the men at the bar in front of you which was met with a resounding ‘yes’. Marty opened up the binder he had brought through for the meeting, pulled his reading glasses from his head, placed them on the end of his nose and started talking Joel through the permits and licences that the place had.

If he was honest with himself, the idea to invest in this bar had nothing to do with him. Really it was all Tommy. “I promise you Joel, this is a really good place. Nothin’ sleezy or seedy about it. I met the owner a few times when I used to go there a few years ago and he’s a real nice guy. And really, it’s running a bar, how hard can it be?” 

Over the past few years Joel and Tommy had managed to create and develop their own, legit, construction company. After years of working odd jobs and working for other, bigger, contracting firms they used their combined knowledge and contacts to go in it for themselves. They now had a team of 20 guys working under them. Joel found it strange at first; not having to jump at every job that came his way, finding himself spending more and more time within the onsite offices and taking phone calls. It also meant that he found more time to spend with his daughter, Sarah. With their company doing well, it helped Tommy too. He became more reliable, less hot-headed. 

You set the coffees down in front of the men. A sprinkling of chocolate on each and Joel looked up at you with soft eyes. From when he set foot in this place, he felt like you belonged here. You had confidence but not arrogance, knowing exactly how everything worked and where it should be. Only being here for a short while, he could sense that you were the reason for that comfortable feeling he had already.  Your back was still turned, making your own coffee as the unmistakable noise of squeaking hinges came from the barn doors. “Hey, sorry I didn’t realise I was late.” A similar drawl came from the man crossing the floor to meet the others at the bar. 

“Not late at all, we’re just doing intros so you’re right on time.” Marty reassured the other Miller brother. “Mona…” he called your name and you flipped the rag over your shoulder before facing them again. 

“Tommy?” your eyes screwed up slightly, almost as if you were squinting to get a better look at the face that you quickly found familiar. Your eyes darted across the features of the younger Miller, not quite clicking with what was happening. Is hair was longer than the last time you’d saw him, curling now and tucked behind his ears. Similar to his brother, his eyes were dark, an espresso colour and his smile was warm and deliberate. 

“Mona… What’re you…?” 

“What are you doing, Miller?” you flashed him one of your own warm smiles. 

“You two know each other?” Joel was trying his hardest to read between the smiles , his eyes darting back and forth between you both. Sure, he got a smile from you, but not the same one as Tommy got. 

“Yeah, I mean…” 

“It’s been a long time…”

“Three years?”

“That long?” you huffed out a chuckle.

Joel was following the dialogue like the it was the last shot at the final of a tennis game. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to win. 

“Mona and I met at Christopher’s wedding a couple of years ago and then she broke my heart…” Tommy left room for your expected rebuttal.

“Well, in all fairness Tom, getting thrown outta bar on our fourth date for punching a guy wasn’t really what I was looking for in a husband.” You grabbed ahold of one of the draft taps, rocking slightly where you stood, perhaps to sooth yourself from this unexpected blast from the past. Tommy’s hand slapped his chest to cover his heart as if he was just shot and you both falling into a soft giggle. 

The word ‘date’ hung in the air heavier than you’d liked it. The softness that you’d seen in Joel’s eyes had shifted a little to become more serious and neutral. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like that word- especially in relation to you and his once hot-mess of a brother. 

“Let’s shift this to the booth, easier for the paperwork.” Marty said, wanting to get this going. 

“Coffee, T?” you looked up. Joel wasn’t sure he liked that nickname on your lips. Was it the kinda nickname that said ‘Mona acts this way with everyone so you shouldn’t read into it’ or was it ‘I’ve seen Tommy naked’? Either way, it made him clench his jaw a little.

“A water would be great, thank you.” Tommy called over as he slid himself into the booth closest to the bar. You grabbed your own coffee in one hand and a bottled water in the other, making your way around the bar to the booth to slide in next to Marty, across from Joel who up close, seemed bigger somehow. His arms were out in front of him, hands clasped on the table and it seemed like his eyes tracked you. 

“So, thanks fellas for meeting here today. I thought before anything else happened between the lawyers that you guys should come and get a feel for the place and get to know Mona a little better…” Marty started, your eyes were on Joel, searching for where that warmness had gone, his eyes fallen to the man on your right. “I think what’s most important for me is that you understand the value of Mona and how she is an asset to the bar and how she’ll be an asset to you both…” You could feel your cheeks heating slightly. You bumped your arm against Marty’s as a small sign of affection. “What I think would be a good thing for you folks to see is the way that this place operates on a Friday night…”

“With all due respect, Marty, I think Joel and I know what a bar on a Friday night looks like…” Tommy interrupted gently.

“I get that.” Marty says with a small chuckle. “What I mean is that you both should come and see it from Mona’s perspective… behind the bar. The reality is, boys, is that owning a bar is not all free beer and schmoozing. Sometimes you gotta get behind the bar yourself… clean the barf from the urinals for example…” 

“You’re really selling it to ‘em Mart” your eyes shift cautiously between the two brothers before looking down at the coffee mug in front of you. 

“So, what would we be doin’, exactly?” Joel asks, Marty gives you a small nudge, indicating that Joel is asking you. Your eyes flash up, his already on you.

“Well, there’s no ‘exactly’ to it…” you shrug “I’d probably get you both to shadow me for the evenin’ pour beer, change a few kegs, serve food, talk to the regulars, help me kick ‘em out at closin’ time.” 

“Sounds reasonable.” the older miller responded with one slow dip of his chin. 

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Tommy said, flashing you one of his signature grins that went all the way up to his eyes. 

“Ooooooo-hoooo, just you wait, Tommy-boy.” You narrow your eyes at Tommy. The cocky smile on your face bouncing back at him as you track over to the other brother, your smile shifting a little to match his softer one. 

“I send out the schedule on Monday’s. I’d have one of you do Friday night and one of you do Saturday. Any preference?” Your eyes bounces between the brothers

“I’d probably do Saturday night, just cause Sarah and I are up early on the Saturday mornin…” Sarah. Married? Girlfriend? You crease your brow. 

“Means I’m all yours on Friday night Mone. It’s a date.” Tommy had that glint in his eye again. Joel was used to his brother and the way he couldn’t help but flirt with anything with a pulse. What he hadn’t seen too often was the fact that Tommy’s charm really bounced off you. You looked like it amused you, sure, but you weren’t giggling and falling over what he was saying. You were holding your own. 

“In your dreams, Miller.” you backhanded Tommy’s banter right back to him, Joel let out a soundless chuckle.

“I’ll send Mona your guys’ numbers and she can send you the details.” Marty began “I think this way you can get an idea if the bar for ya’… then we can get into the logistics.” There was a resounding ‘sure’ across the table as Marty stood, you straight after, and the four of you exited the booth. Joel extended his hand to Marty, Tommy doing the same as tight-lipped smiles were exchanged. 

“It was nice to meet you…” you placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder to get his attention before extending your right hand to him. “Thanks again for helpin’ with the light…” you let your tongue poke through your lips, wetting the bottom one. Joel’s eyes went there immediately before snapping back up, realising what he was doing, giving you a “mmm” and shaking his head in response.

“It was good to meet you too, Mona.” his hand squeezed yours just once whilst shaking it softly, just slightly but enough to feel like his comment was genuine, the Texan accent dripping off every vowel.

“It was great to see you again, Mone…” Tommy’s voice snapped both you and Joel out of your handshake as you replaced the gentle touch you had on Joel’s upper arm to a firm pat on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I did not think you’d be walking into the bar today, Tommy…” you knit your brow in disbelief. “Please don’t make me throw you outta this bar on your first shift…” you joked.

The brothers shifted through the barn doors again. You waited to hear the external door click shut before turning on your heel to Marty who looked at you with a coy smile. You knew something was coming from him so you stood waiting for it. 

“You know Tommy, huh?” 

“I do not know Tommy, old man.” You rolled your eyes and walked past him, rounded the bar until you were safely in your right place behind it. You opened up the small dishwasher that sat undercounter, the steam rising and hitting you square in the face. “It was a couple of dates. We maybe kissed once? But he was a hot-head back then. He knocked a guy out who tried to buy me a drink…” you shook your head, opening the dishwasher to let the glasses cool off. “I liked them, they seem like good guys…” you mused, Marty now sitting on the stool that Joel was at not 30 minutes before. 

“Yeah? Just gotta see if they survive the weekend.” Marty looked down at his binder again through his glasses which were perched on the end of his nose. 

Joel pulled up on the site just after his younger brother, the longer haired man already out of his pick-up that had ‘Miller Construction’ plastered on the side and walking towards his car. As he got out to meet Tommy he shook his head as they walked in the direction of the site office.“What?” Tommy said. The look on his brothers face was one solely reserved from older siblings to younger when they’ve done something wrong. 

“Is it possible to go anywhere in this town without meeting someone that you’ve hooked up with?” Joel ascended the three steel steps of the cab before opening the door to the makeshift office. His voice had a little more bite in it than he intended but he didn’t want this whole deal to be an excuse for is brother to get a leg over.

“I did not hook up with Mona, believe me…” Tommy followed his brother into the small room, pulling the door shut behind him. The brothers took to their desks at opposite sides of the room. It may have seemed stupid to those who didn’t know the business but the brothers had different areas to work on. Joel was the contracts guy, talking to external companies, sourcing materials and budgets. Tommy was the onsite guy, dealing with the labourers directly, making sure they were hitting their deadlines. “We went out a couple of times, I was an ass… I knocked a guy out for hitting on her in front of me… Thought I was being a gentleman- she didn’t see it that way.”

Joel huffed slightly, the word ‘gentleman’ ringing in his ears- something you called him earlier that day. “Tommy we need this to stay business…”Joel said taking his keys and phone out of his jeans pockets and sitting them on the desk next to his laptop which he pushed open. 

“I know…” Tommy mirrored the actions of his brother from his own desk. “Even if I wanted to, you only get one chance with someone like Mona…” 

Joel instantly found himself in amongst a sea of emails from supplies managers before soft the buzz of his phone against his desk pulled him out.

Mona: Hey, J- it’s Mona. Just to confirm that you will be taking the Saturday closing shift with me. Be at the bar for around 3pm. The uniform, of course, is white hotpants, tan tights, knee-high socks, and a bright orange shirt that shows off your wonderful chest but we’ll get you sorted here on Saturday. 😜

Joel’s smile was instant, creeping over his lips and tingling up through his cheeks. You were funny and he couldn’t deny the little ripple felt in his chest at the nickname that you’d given to Tommy that he now got to wear. He couldn’t help it, he was typing and sending a message before he could stop himself.

Joel: Hi. I’ll be there. Is a fresh wax required? 🤔

The typing bubbles from you were already there before he could put his phone down.

Mona: Yes it is. We also only have XS or XXS tights left. That’s okay, right? 😉

Tommy’s head rose at the second buzz of Joel’s phone, Joel’s attention already on the text. “That from Mona?” he asked, his own phone in his hand receiving a text from you about the schedule. 

Joel: I’m an XL.  Joel: See you Saturday. 🙂

“Yeah, it is.” he glanced up at his brother before locking his phone and placing it face down on the desk, the next wave of emails rolling in. 

[flightlessangelwings]

“an accidental kiss that confuses you both, but only a moment pass before you crash your lips back against each other's”

Tommy Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 853

Warnings- mutual pining, flirting, feelings confession

Notes- Requested by my dear friend @agirllovespancakes​ for my 4k follower drabble event! Thank you so much I loved writing this and I love Tommy so much!!! I’m so glad you’re back on tumblr too!!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

You let out a heavy sigh as you lifted the box off the ground. Working at the bar in Jackson was hard work, but it was worth it. You knew how lucky you were to have found this town, and it was your way of giving back to the place that saved your life. Normalcy was rare in this world, but you tried your best to make the bar seem as much as life was before the outbreak as possible.

And there was one person in particular that you loved to see all the time.

Tommy sat at the bar several nights a week, his soft eyes following your every move and his bright smile lit up your world. You bit your lip as you subtly flirted with him as much as you could, but you couldn’t be sure if the feeling was mutual.

There were times where his hand would linger over yours just a few seconds longer than it needed to when you handed him a beer. There were times when you were sure he winked at you. There were times where you were sure his laugh was louder than necessary, given you had just told him a stupid little joke.

But did it all even mean anything?

The sun was setting as you assembled your pile of boxes out back. You were alone at the bar, and it was a slow time of day so you took the opportunity to organize some things and fetch a box of beers. 

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself as you tried to lift a box that was just slightly too big and too heavy for you. You grunted as you strained your muscles and tried again, but again it was in vain.

With another huff, you tried again, but this time it was lighter. You gasped as you suddenly felt someone’s hands brush against yours as the mystery person helped you from the other side of the box.

“I got it, sugar,” a familiar voice called out from behind the large box.

You let out a sigh of relief as he took the box from you and set up on top of the stack that stood next to him, “My hero,” you breathed as you took in the sight of his taught arm muscles, “Thanks, Tommy.”

He grunted as he gave the box one final nudge and made sure it was secure in place before he took a few steps towards you and playfully nudged your chin, “Anything for my favorite bartender in Jackson,” Tommy gave you a flirtatious smile and a wink, “Need anything else while I’m here?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as a pulse of nerves ran through your veins. Tommy’s effortless charm and kind heart captivated you in no time. Your skin felt warm where his hand brushed against it and you fiddled with your fingers as you looked into his eyes.

“Everything alright?” he asked in concern as you just stared at him lost in thought.

“Oh,” you jumped out of your thoughts, “Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as you fidgeted nervously, “Thanks again,” you reached out and kissed him on the cheek before you even realized your actions.

Both of you froze as you stayed just inches from Tommy’s face. You looked at him wide eyed and mildly horrified. When he didn’t move for several moments, your blood ran cold from fear. Did you mess things up with him before you even fully had a chance? 

Just as you were about to apologize, Tommy’s eyes glanced down at your lips and he cupped the side of your face. Without another word, you reached out and gently grabbed the collar of his shirt, clinging to him as the space between your faces slowly closed.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, sweetheart,” Tommy murmured before the dam broke.

You and Tommy moved at the same time and you crashed your lips against the other in a deep and passionate kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck as his other arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. Your arms made their way up his neck as you yanked him even closer.

The taste of Tommy drove you wild, and the chill that settled within you quickly melted away with his kiss. He groaned against you as he devoured you needily. Soft moaned echoed from your chest as you clung to him and kissed him as long as you could before you had to break away for air.

With a deep breath, your eyes fluttered open and you were met with Tommy’s warm and soft smile. The freckles on his face softened his features as he looked at you with pure adoration and you couldn’t help but giggle softly, “I’m glad you were here, Tommy.”

“Well if that’s how you thank everyone who helps you move boxes, I sure as hell am too,” he laughed.

“Only you, Tommy,” you breathed as you chuckled and played with his hair, “It’s only been you.” 

“Good,” he placed a chaste kiss on your lips, “Cause I ain’t sharin…”