#tlou tommy miller

[romanarose]

I need to fuck Tommy Miller with a vibrating strap

[ay0nha]

Who would be interested in a Detective!Tommy Miller x forensic!reader but in the sense like he’s sort of that hot headed/always suspended/about to be fired way and has a soft spot for the sciencey reader…??

Snippet of the idea below the cut of the vibes/idea:

It was like Tommy stepped in scat.

Shit followed him everywhere. The drag of a cheap cigarette did nothing to alleviate the stench of death that weighed on him.

No days were easy when someone saw what he did. Tommy wasn’t naive when he became a detective; it was the draw. Every big whig went to extreme lengths to cover things up, but some people were just fucked up.

This wasn’t even the goriest thing he’d seen, but the jar of teeth made him nauseous. Tommy couldn’t even reach for it; the thought of who they belonged to soured everything. He crouched down, weight shifting in the still-wet mud, cementing his lament.

“Fuck.” He flicked the butt away, hoping it would carry his nerves with it. He just cursed again, just as breathy and just as vengeful.

The black around the still-intact enamel proved even fire wasn’t enough to erase the haunting cruelty. In the literal sense of the word, the serial killer was artful. Intelligent. Tommy wished he could conjure more derogatory words, but he was too emotionally stumped to do so.

Tommy’s phone interrupted his thoughts; he knew he’d be chewed out for being where he was if he picked it up. Leave it, they told him. It was instinctual to disobey. Damn, near impossible to let it go when the tokens were in front of him, showing teeth worth more than the bodies the department found.

There was always more.

“Yeah?” Tommy’s casualty always rubbed others the wrong way.

“Miller—” His partner barked on the other line. Tommy didn’t care one way or the other; his partners never stayed for long. “—Marlene’s pissed, says I was s’pposed to stop you. We don’t have fucking clearance, Tommy—”

Tommy lied. It became second nature to spew nonsense. He struggled to remember what he lied about his absence. Usually, it was some bullshit about picking up leftover grunt work that he disguised with those keywords: paperwork, higher-up formalities, and whatever caused his partner’s eyes to glaze over with boredom.

Like always, to get out of the cowpie he’d asked for, he conjured your name, knowing its spell could calm a rabid animal.

—

Your performance was getting better, more natural to the trained eyes on you. Although your confidence grew, your head was still low. Perceived submission was the palatable role the forensics team took on in the eyes of the other departments.

The detectives were the worst, treating their barely-there hierarchy like high school divisions. The jocks and the nerds existed again. One couldn’t tetter on the line. Yet, there you were, steps firm in the direction of their department. Even they couldn’t verbalize your presence.

Eyes tracked you until you met Tommy’s desk, once there, they scattered trying to attune their ears to the conversation you sparked.

“I got these for you…” you muttered with partial indifference. Despite your pluralization, the manila folder was practically empty. Your loud gratitude confirmed the staging. “Thank you again for picking up those extra samples for me…”

Tommy’s cigarette twitched with amusement, his eyes sparkling with jest at your words. There wasn’t a true need for all your talk, especially not with him. Peace of mind, you told him once. But he was convinced a small part of you enjoyed being in on the lie.

“Anytime.” His tone was smooth and genuine. “Though, might need to return a favor or two. Got chewed out for you.”

You frowned. You read between the lines; Tommy was in deep. It was an unconscious warning.

“That—” He pulled his cigarette from his lips, knowing where you stood on the vice. “—or dinner.”

Ears were sharp, catching his rehearsed line. Those around you muttered with cough-covered snickers and scoffs. Men, you thought. Your glare was enough to convey your indignation.

You nodded despite the decline. “Have a good one, Tommy.”

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The new chapter of Survivor Blues was a really good read. A lot of people forget about Tommy when they think of that particular loss and it has to be hard for him even all those years later. I like how he talked to Reader and how Maria talked back to him. Being direct is something that does not happen in a lot of fics so it happening here was nice to read.

Anon, come here, I want to give you a big hug. You have no idea how much this means to me. To know that you are enjoying that story - even the parts that don't focus on Joel and Reader - is filling my soul with joy right now.

Putting the rest under the cut so I can be specific without spoilers.

I agree that a lot of people tend to overlook the fact that Tommy also went through losing Sarah. Literally, right alongside Joel. I understand why though - because the plot centers on Joel and Ellie, and for the majority of the story, Tommy is out of the picture. I think that's what makes it easier to forget, or at least not focus on the fact that he went through such an unspeakably traumatic event, too.

That, and the fact that Sarah is Joel's daughter, not his. But you cannot tell me that Tommy didn't have his own special connection and bond with Sarah. You can't tell me that Sarah didn't love spending time with him and that he didn't love it just as much. There is absolutely no way that little girl didn't own a huge corner of his heart. So to me, there's no way to brush his grief and his (misplaced) guilt aside. There's no way to overlook the fact that he was hurting so much for so long.

I truly think that because Tommy and Joel ... i hesitate to say processed because I don't think either of them even started to do that for many years... maybe reacted is a better word here... because they reacted so differently to Sarah's death, and they needed such different things to be able to move on from it, them separating for as long as they did was probably the best thing that could have happened. And I think that Tommy meeting and falling in love with Maria was really what made him able to start his own healing process.

Directness between characters is something that I tend to include in my stories, because I happen to be a pretty straightforward, direct person. I am 35 years old and I don't like to play games or withhold things or dance around subjects. Life is short, and not being upfront about things or drawing things out only wastes precious time in my opinion, and time is not something that characters like Maria, Tommy and to an extent, even though she's not entirely comfortable with them yet, Reader, are willing to waste.

I know that a lot of times in stories, whether they are fanfiction or not, characters being secretive or hiding things or not being entirely truthful is common. And I know that that sort of behavior is common in real live people, too. And I know that when people or characters behave this way, it's usually for a reason - or at least it should be, and not just as a way to add tension or drama. But I also know that there's no way Tommy would be able to watch someone going through what he went through and not want to reach out. I know that Maria wouldn't be able to see the signs in her husband that he's hurting and not want to encourage him to do what he needs to do to help Reader and himself. I know that Reader, for as much as she is still wrestling with the idea of this new life ahead of her, wants to move forward in whatever way she can, so none of them are in a place right now where being indirect would do them any favors.

Thank you again for sending this in, anon. I could talk about these characters and their motives for HOURS... as you can see. And thank you again, endlessly, for reading and supporting my work. You are WONDERFUL!

[moonpascal]

self insert x canon will always hold a special place in my heart

[darknight3904]

buy me presents, baby!

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The holiday season is packed enough as it is. On top of it all, Joel has a cute little girlfriend he just can't seem to resist spoiling...

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Smut Unprotected p in v, literally one spank, riding, missionary, Joel's a bit of a tease, pregnancy mention (no ones actually pregnant, don't worry) No outbreak au, modern au, viagra mention, unspecified age gap (mid/early-20s reader in mind), Rich older bf Joel!! I don't know how Hinge works sorry.

Word Count: 2.7k

Based on the song buy me presents by Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

The local mall was a buzz with what you swore was the entire state of Texas. Everywhere you turned, someone was brushing by you, mumbling an excuse me or just grunting an apology.

"Maybe we should just go home...There's so many people here." You say as you stand off to the side.

"Oh c'mon we drove all the way here, don't you wanna take a peek at some things, darlin'?"

Joel's warm southern tone sent a tingle of warmth down your spine. He was always so charming, that's how he won you over in the first place, his charm.

You'd stumbled across his Hinge profile six months ago. Your friend, Jess had jokingly set your profile to look for men over ten years older than you.

"Trust me, Dilfs are a whole different ballpark, girl!"

You hadn't believed her, after all, who would want some old half-bald, blue pill-taking man sitting across from them at dinner?

Things of course changed late one Wednesday night when Joel, 40 popped up on your screen. Not only did he have all his hair (and teeth!) but damn it he was so hot.

For lack of a better word, Joel was the perfect gentleman. He'd picked you up for your first date right at 7, opened all the doors for you, and even pulled your chair out for you to sit at the restaurant. Conversation had flowed so easily with him, that you'd almost forgotten you had just met the man across from you.

Fast forward a few months and here you were walking the mall with the head and Co-owner of Miller Construction Co. Joel's big hand cradled yours as he opened the door to Sephora.

"Said you needed some more of that lip balm you like right? Let's get it now."

You nodded and let him pull you into the store. He always did this, pulled you into stores so you could look at things. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't always buying half the things you picked up to admire. Hell, one time you were at Macy's with him and made a joke about the adult Spiderman onesie that was being sold, two days later it was sitting in your lap in just your size.

Jess had told you to enjoy it, to let him buy you everything your little heart desired but you couldn't help but feel guilty. You already spent most of your time sleeping at Joel's place, showering there, and eating his food. What were you even working for if you couldn't buy a measly lip balm for yourself?!

You pulled the one you wanted from the shelf. You'd run out a few days ago and your lips had begun to crack without it. Your eyes fell down to look at the price that was beside the scent

Twenty-four bucks?! That was nearly two hours of working at the shitty secretary job you had down at the local library! Whoever was setting prices at this company needed a serious reality check.

Joel's back was turned as he was staring at an array of brushes, mumbling that no one needed that many things for their face. Perfect! You could sneakily set this back on the display and-

"What're you doin'? Isn't that the one?"

Shit.

"Well yeah, but..."

"Then put it in the basket."

Joel's outstretched arm came up to present the little black and white basket he'd taken from a worker when the two of you entered.

"I just think that twenty-four bucks is too much for a little tube of lip balm. I think I'll just switch back to Carmex or Burts Bee's."

"Darlin' I'll buy it." Joel gave you a warm smile, "Let me spoil you."

"No way! You just bought me dinner!" You shake your head, thinking of your leftovers that sat in the backseat of his car.

"And now I wanna buy you a lip balm," Joel says taking it from your hands to put in the basket.

"Nope. We're not getting it." You say, pulling it from his hands and tossing it back on the shelf, "Let's leave."

Joel protests but lets you pull him from the store and back to the car.

Three days later...

Joel never liked shopping. He'd always been the kind of guy who bought the same shirt in multiple colors just because it made sense in his mind. Even when the company had taken off and he and Tommy were living comfortably instead of paycheck to paycheck, he hadn't really found an excuse to indulge and spend a lot of his hard-earned cash. Sure, he'd dropped a lot on a new car after his poor pickup truck had gotten rear-ended two years ago, damn teen drivers. Then, there was the new roof that his house needed last summer. But, both of those were easily paid off and Joel often found himself with a bank account higher than necessary.

It never bothered him, after all, it just meant retirement would come quicker, and if he ever had kids they'd have a lot of inheritance. Yes, Joel was happy living his simple lifestyle. Of course, that was until he met you...

You were just perfect in Joel's eyes. From the moment he saw you on that dating app Tommy had stuck on his phone, he'd known you were the one for him. Initially, he'd felt weird when he'd swiped on you, after all, you were so young compared to him. His fears though, they'd vanished the moment you started laughing at his lame jokes, adding your own even worse ones to the conversation. Yes, you were just perfect for him.

Now, it was December, the holiday season was in full swing and Joel found himself itching to spend some of that cash that'd been sitting in the bank for ages. He'd spent the last six months trying to keep the spending to a minimum, you always scolded him despite enjoying all of his gifts and he'd hate to make you feel uncomfortable. But after today when you'd put that little lip balm back on the shelf, he'd felt sad for you. Joel hadn't missed your small frown when it clattered back onto the display next to the others. You wanted that lip balm and, you were going to get that lip balm.

It was as if he was a man possessed. Three hours had passed since he'd walked into this mall and his arms were begging to feel a bit sore. Sure, he'd bought you the lip balm but before he knew it, he was wandering into all the other stores, looking for things that'd make you smile and cover his face in kisses. As he loaded the bags into the trunk a bit of worry crossed his mind. Had he gone overboard?

No, there definitely could be more...

December 25th, Christmas Morning at Joel Miller's

The warm scent of coffee had your eyes slowly pulling open. You groaned and pulled yourself out of bed, fumbling to pull Joel's shirt on before finding your discarded panties from last night. Whoever told you that older men needed Viagra to get it up clearly hadn't met Joel.

You padded down the steps to see Joel hunched over the stove, flipping pancakes while his beloved coffee maker brewed.

"Morning." You chirp, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your hands on his soft belly.

"Good morning." Joel's deep voice filled your ears

You greedily let your hands slip under the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Joel lets out a hum and scoots away from you.

"Keep that up and we won't be eating or opening gifts til noon."

You roll your eyes and go to pour him his coffee.

After a delicious breakfast, Joel pulled you into the living room where your jaw nearly met the floor. Last night when you'd passed out in bed after the third round, there had been six presents under the tree, three from him and three from you. Now there had to be over triple that.

"What did you do?" You ask, spinning around to face Joel.

"What? I'm not allowed to spoil you?" Joel asks, a boyish grin on his face.

"It's like you bought the whole damn store and put it in your living room." You point out

"Not the whole store, just some of it." Joel laughs

Nearly an hour later, you were sitting in a pile of wrapping paper and bows.

"Alright, last one," Joel says, pulling a small gift bag with a snowman on it out.

You sigh in fake exhaustion, "Hand it over, cowboy."

Joel snorts and hands you the bag which a moment later you find has the lip balm you'd put back the other day.

"Went back and bought it for ya. Got a little distracted though..." Joel smiles

"Oh, only a little? Is that why there's lingerie and a new pair of boots sitting in boxes next to me?" You laugh, "Not to mention you even bought me a new frying pan."

"Yeah, just a little sidetracked s' all," Joel says, looking at the many different things he'd found for you.

"Thank you, Joel." You smile earnestly, "It's your turn now."

"Why don't ya model this for me, darlin'?" Joel asks, pushing the red babydoll dress towards you

"But what about your presents?" You pout, "I put a lot of thought into the one with the green paper."

"Give me a fashion show, it can be part of the gift." Joel coerces.

"Ugh, you're lucky you're hot, Joel." You huff, scooping the fabric up and heading off to the bathroom.

Joel lets out a long whistle as you reenter the living room, "Well, would you look at that?"

"Pervert." You scoff as he pulls you into his lap

"Not allowed to appreciate my girl?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek

"You just wanted to see what my boobs looked like in red lace." You point out

Joel gives you a grin, busted.

"Nah, what makes you think that?"

Joel's lips capture yours and his hands secure themselves at your waist. Your resolve loosens as your hands curl against the soft skin of his chest.

"What about your presents?" You ask breathlessly when he pulls back

"Got everything I want right here." He says, "Let's go upstairs, this old man needs a bed if he's gonna fuck you silly."

Joel's hands are back on you the moment he kicks the bedroom door shut. His lips find yours again as his hands begin to pull the straps of your outfit off your shoulders.

Your back hits the mattress and one of Joel's big hands snakes down between your thighs.

"Still wet from last night." Joel laughs into the kiss

"Mmm, I think it was from earlier. Seeing you shirtless, cooking for me was hot." You admit

"Yeah? Y'like me cookin' for ya?" Joel asks

"Course, who wouldn't wanna see a hot old man cooking pancakes for them on Christmas?" You tease

Joel delivers a sharp slap to your inner thigh, "Not that old, darlin'."

"Sure you aren't."

You push at his shoulders and straddle him, loving the way his hands gently rest on your thighs.

You hum in delight as his hips lift and he pulls his pants off, finally exposing the rest of his body to your greedy eyes. Joel's lips ghost over your nipples, teasing them with his tongue as he lifts you up so he's notched at your entrance. Eager, you move to push him in but he stops you.

"What do ya say, baby?" Joel teases

"C'mon Joel..." You groan, "I want it."

"Ask nicely then," he clicks his tongue, "Go on,"

You huff a small breath of frustration and Joel's hands squeeze your hips.

"Please," You mumble

"What was that? This old man needs some help hearin' ya." Joel prods

"Please, fuck me, Joel." You groan, wiggling your hips as the head of his cock teases your hole.

"S' what I wanted to hear," Joel says, pressing a wet kiss to your neck

Joel's loud groan mingles with your girlish one as he lets you go to take him in. Your mind goes blank as your hips begin to rock. Joel's hands roam your body as he pinches and teases the sensitive flesh of your chest.

"C'mon girlie, give it to me." He encourages

"I'm trying." You huff, the feel of your burning thighs was slowing you down

A loud slap rings out followed by a yelp from your mouth. Joel's big hand rubs at the reddened mark on your soft skin.

"Don't worry, I gotcha, sweetheart, let me."

Your world turns as Joel lays you back down on the soft mattress, pushing your knees to your chest you're practically folded in half as he pushes in again.

"Fuck me..." Joel groans in pleasure above you.

"Already am." You laugh breathlessly

Joel shakes his head but you see the smile playing on his lips.

Rough thrusts steal your breath away as Joel begins moving his hips in earnest. The softness of his belly meets yours as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours. A hand pushes into the middle of your shared mess and a finger toys with your clit. A whimper escapes your lips as Joel groans when you tighten around him.

"Gonna let me come inside ya hmm? It'd be the perfect Christmas gift for me darlin'..."

Your brain is mush as Joel's finger plays with you while his cock relentlessly slams into you. Your stomach tightens as he continues.

"I-I'm gonna-"

"C'mon let it out, soak my fucking cock." Joel commands

As if he's magic your body yields to him and you come. A strangled groan leaves Joel's lips while your eyes slam shut.

"Good girl." Joel coos down at you, his hips never slowing.

"Joel!" You gasp, the pain of overstimulation beginning to ebb at your brain.

Joel lets out a soft moan of his own, his brow furred in concentration.

"Where?" He asks

"I-Inside" You gasp

Joel smirks, "Yeah? Gonna take it like a good girl? Let me knock ya up, pop out a brat for me in nine months?"

"Yes!" Your hips arch off the bed when his hand comes down to grind at your clit.

Joel's hips stutter against you and a loud moan escapes him as he fills you. Gentle thrusts follow as he comes down, dropping your legs as he does.

Joel flops down beside you on the bed, his chest heaves a bit as the two of you catch your breath.

"Y'okay?"

"Always." You say looking over at him with a dopey grin on your face

"Wanna go finish those pancakes?" Joel asks

You laugh, Joel was such a typical guy, thinking with his stomach, "You just fucked me and threatened to knock me up but your first thought is pancakes?"

"Well, I was gonna get a washcloth and clean ya up first, if that matters," Joel says

"Wow, what a gentleman." You scoff

"Glad you think so." Joel mumbles

You lay next to him in silence, listening to his breathing and watching his eyes flutter shut in satisfaction.

"What if we did?" You ask

"Did what?" Joel asks looking at you, "If you're talking about round two, I'll need a few more minutes, I'm not twenty anymore."

You slap his shoulder and roll onto your belly, "No, perv. I meant a baby. You were just talking about getting me pregnant."

Joel looks over at you like you've lost your mind, "Are you being serious right now?"

"Totally. You don't want a mini us running around?" You ask hopefully

"Course I do baby, didn't ever think a pretty young thing like you would want that with me though," Joel admits, pulling you towards him so you're resting partially on top of him

"Really Joel?" You scoff, "You're like the hottest guy in the world."

"Now you're just buttering me up." He laughs his head hitting the pillows behind him

"I'm serious!" You smile as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips

Soft silence flutters around you as you watch the gears turn in his mind.

"Gonna have to marry you if you start popping my kids out." Joel grins

"Of course," You laugh, "You think I'm gonna go into labor without a ring on my hand?"

Joel's nose brushes yours as he leans a bit closer to your face, practically breathing in your scent. His hand grasps yours where it rests on his chest.

"Guess I gotta start looking at jewelry then, darlin'. You're gonna have the prettiest ring in all of Texas."

"Ugh, there you go again, plotting to spend way too much money on me again." You groan in embarrassment.

Joel leans in and steals a kiss from you, the taste of pancakes and syrup lingers on his tongue as he does.

"Gotta humor me here," He smiles into the kiss, "Let me buy you presents, baby."

Consider this a mini-rant against the people behind the prices at Sephora. I'm looking at you Summer Fridays...

Want more Joel? Check out my series All Too Well.

[talaok]

What did daddy teach you?

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader x Step-uncle!Tommy

Summary: Joel has decided you need to have practice with other men. Thankfully Tommy is more than happy to step up for the task.(this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: oh boy, step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence: dub-con, Perv!Joel, Perv!Tommy, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| oral sex (m receiving), face fuking, he forces you down for a bit too long, handjob, 1 slap, anal play, unprotected p in v sex (one right after the other), spanking, hair pulling, coming on face, creampie, degradation (slut, whore), praising, Tommy's mean and rough, and of course loads of daddy-kink.

This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

a/n: I should be institutionalized

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Mom had gone away on some kind of business trip for this weekend, and normally, that wouldn't have been a reason for you to be particularly happy, but now, with everything that happened in the past month it meant only one thing: Joel could teach you all about making love for two full days.

You were so incredibly excited it was kind of funny.

You had done all your homework already so that nothing could distract you or take time away from your lessons, and immediately once you came home you had changed into the special clothes you only wore for Joel-this time he'd bought you a little tiny dress, not the usual skirt.

It was the kind of white that was basically transparent, especially being you couldn't wear anything underneath it, and it wasn't like it covered much anyway... as always at least an inch of your ass wasn't covered by the fabric, and the top of it was very much more low cut than what you were used to,

But that's the way daddy liked it, and as he was always reminding you, it was healthier for your skin anyway,

Just as you were sitting down on the couch, the doorbell rang.

"Hi babygirl"

"H-hi"

"Hi sugar" Tommy's smirk matched Joel's, the devil lurking behind those eyes- and your heart dropped at the sight.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

It was supposed to be just you and Joel- You didn't know he was gonna be here- you were- oh god-

you looked down at your clothes and immediately went to cover up, your arms doing a poor job of shielding your body from their ravenous gaze.

They were eating you with their eyes, and perhaps even enjoying seeing how panicked that made you.

"I-I'm sorry" you gulped, as they stepped inside and closed the door behind them "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be coming Uncle Tommy"

Tommy's grin only widened, his eyes making little to no effort to avoid falling to your cleavage.

"is that the way to greet your uncle now?" he tsked

Joel chuckled beside him, but you were so mortified you didn't even hear him

"I-I'm sorry I just- I- I should c-change"

It seems Joel was gonna let his brother do all the talking

"why's that?" he frowned, taking a slow step towards you "you look real damn good sweets... ain't there no need to change"

"b-but" your eyes shifted to Joel only to find him already watching you

But only daddy can see me dressed like this

But it's against the rules

"c'mere sugar" was all Joel said

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel relieved to be walking away from Tommy and his gaze

"W-what's going on daddy?" you whispered, although Tommy could very well still hear,

You were only a few steps away from him, but his focus was entirely on something else as you offered him a sneak peek of your ass

"I-I thought you'd be teaching me another lesson today"

his hand found your back, pushing you flat against him, and your hands went to his chest.

"daddy" you tried to warn him, but he was already kissing you, his lips soft and rough at the same time against yours.

You heard a soft chuckle coming from your left, and you swore you squeaked in surprise.

What is he doing?

Tommy can see us!

"daddy I-" You stole a glance at his brother and found him palming the front of his jeans "he can see us"

Finally, Joel decided to explain, not wasting an opportunity to laugh softly at your naivety first.

"Uncle Tommy's here for you sweetheart"

You could only frown, looking up at him again

"He's here to help you out"

What does that even mean?

daddy's already helping you

"with what? Y-You-"

He smirked, as his thumb traced your lips

"You see baby" he murmured, "You know me well now, you're used to me, to how I do... things" he explained "but a woman needs to be prepared to make love with men even if she doesn't know how it'll be" he said " when I said men like women with experience, I meant experience with different men too, with different mouths and fingers and cocks, you understand?"

You didn't think you did, not fully, but you still nodded.

"now I'm not saying that what you and I do ain't important, because it's real important for you sugar" his eyes were so honest and kind you were starting to forget all about the shock from moments ago "You still have a lot to learn, and I'm happy to help, but today... today Uncle Tommy was kind enough to agree to help me help you out"

You swallowed thickly, focusing on his strong hands on you and your beating heart

If Joel trusts Uncle Tommy, then I trust him too, you thought

"B-but you're still gonna be here right?"

The way he stroked your cheek said everything you needed to know, but he still spoke it into kind, gentle words, as if you'd made him happy by expressing your need for him to be there.

"of course, I'll be right there the whole time baby girl" he promised, softly caressing your back as he raised his chin to point at his brother "How 'bout you show Uncle Tommy how grateful you are he's helpin' you out now?"

You looked up at Joel, your eyes wide with excitement and nervousness while your hands gripped the shirt covering his chest

"I won't bite" Tommy's amused remark startled you.

He was right beside you now, and you hadn't even noticed him moving.

Some of his curly hair had fallen to his forehead, and his hands were in the front pockets of his jeans, patiently waiting for you to accept the offer, although judging by the big bulge in his crotch, it was taking all his self-restraint

Which it definitely was.

He'd wanted to fuck you since Joel first introduced you that 4th of July of what must have been a year ago.

And when his brother had told him of what he'd managed to convince you to do this past month... he didn't think he'd ever been more jealous in his entire life.

Which is why he decided that a few other words of encouragement wouldn't have hurt.

"c'mon sweetheart" he invited "give your favorite uncle some sugar"

And it would have been a lie to say you didn't want to,

Tommy really was your favorite uncle, and it's not like you were blind... he was one hell of a good-looking man.

So glancing at Joel one last time, you turned toward his brother and took a step until you were right in front of him.

He looked even more beautiful up close.

You gingerly placed your hands on his chest, and he didn't even waste a quarter of a second that his mouth was already devouring yours and his hands were gripping your waist to get you flat against him.

Your eyes were still wide in surprise as he let out a low groan and infiltrated his tongue between your lips to taste all of you,

You let him, you let him explore you entirely before you finally recovered from the shock.

I mean you were used to this kind of hunger from Joel, but you expected Tommy to be a little... tamer.

Once you were back, you started reciprocating, whimpering into his mouth as you too, started to explore his.

"fuck, sugar" he groaned, grinning before he went back to kissing you, grabbing your ass as he did.

You squeaked, completely pliant in his hands as he grabbed at you and kissed you like you were his, like his brother wasn't right behind you, watching the whole scene.

And then you felt it- you felt Joel's hands replace his brother's on your waist, and then you felt his lips graze your neck, his soft breath fanning over your skin as his beard skimmed it, sending shivers all over you.

And then...

There was something so sinful about having two men, two brothers, kiss you at once,

but there was something spectacular about it too.

You moaned, like full-on moaned into Tommy's mouth, your knees buckling as your body turned to jelly.

Both men chuckled softly, their intoxicating mists all around you

"please" you whimpered as they pressed even closer to you, sandwiching you between their muscled bodies and the tents in their jeans.

"What was that?" Joel asked, kissing you right below your left ear as Tommy took care of the right side, making you squirm uncontrollably.

"Daddy-" you only whimpered

"I think she likes this" Tommy grinned, his smile one of a shark

"I think she does too" Joel agreed, both talking like you weren't there, "don't you, baby girl? Tell us how much you're enjoyin' this"

Tommy's hands had left your ass to find your tits now, while Joel's hands were busy stroking up and down your sides.

How could anyone ask for a girl's brain to work in this situation?

"I like it so much" you muttered, your voice a single thread of a whisper.

"yeah?" Tommy taunted "Where are you feeling how much you like it sugar?"

Heat rushed to your face, but Joel was quick to intervene at your pause.

"Don't be rude now sweetheart, answer Uncle Tommy's question" he said, continuing to leave hot kisses on your throat

"I feel it- Uhm- down... there" you whispered, your eyes falling to where your dress "covered" your heat.

"you mean, here in your lil' pussy?" Tommy spoke sultry as his hand found its way underneath your dress and cupped your cunt,

your bare, sopping cunt.

Tommy hissed as his digits connected with your slick folds

"mh-mh" you squeaked, both the men snickering again

"no panties, sugar?" Tommy growled, feeling himself harden with every passing second

"T-they're n-not allowed"

"'f course they aren't" he murmured, ghosting your mouth as he continued exploring your heat, thanking his brother in every language he knew inside his mind.

"poor baby" he cooed, faining pity "She's so wet"

"a-and tingly" you stuttered

"oh sugar" he cooed again "You want Uncle Tommy to take the tingles away?"

"y-yes- please"

but all of a sudden his hand was gone

"don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you later" he cooed, his wet fingers tracing your mouth "First you're gonna have to tell me a few things"

Before you had time to protest or question his words, Joel had already spoken

"let's get on the couch," he said, nodding behind him.

And in no time, the pair was sitting in front of you on the sofa, looking at you like both the front of their jeans weren't showing the perfect press of their hard-ons

"W-what do you want to know Uncle Tommy?"

The smile that split his face was almost feline.

He liked it when you called him that way too much.

"What did daddy teach you?" he asked without missing a beat.

"Oh" you whispered, feeling a wave of anxiety hit you

There was nothing wrong with what you did with daddy, you knew that- but it still felt so... personal.

"H-he's taught me a lot of things" you swallowed thickly, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your dress.

"like what sugar?"

Your gaze turned to Joel, who nodded, urging you to answer without having to breathe a word.

"I...uhm-" you bit your lip, trying to find the words while wondering where to even start "Daddy taught me h-how he can make me feel... good with his - uhm" you gulped, avoiding both the men's eyes "his f-fingers, a-and his mouth- and his... private part"

Tommy snorted like you'd just made a joke,

"His private part?" he mocked, his brows raising in defiance.

"I-" you stuttered looking at him

"we've talked about this sweetheart" Joel spoke now, giving you a pointed look

You had. He had spent a whole afternoon denying you the pleasure you were begging for until you were gonna spit out that word, and you certainly didn't want to go through that torture again.

"His c-cock"

It was such a crude word- you felt so out of place saying it.

Joel hummed in approval, while Tommy's smile spread.

"that's it?"

You gulped, shaking your head slowly.

"he-he's also preparing my other hole"

Tommy's growl was hungry.

"Daddy's trainin' your pretty asshole sweetie?"

"mh-mh" you could only nod

"that'll come real handy today" he grinned, only before you could voice your confusion, Joel had already spoken up

"Not today, she ain't ready"

Tommy'd disappointment lasted only so long

"take off your dress baby girl, show Tommy what he's gettin'"

"yes daddy" you nodded without hesitation, the command second nature at this point.

You got as far as starting to pull the top down when Tommy's voice interrupted

"slow sugar, I wanna enjoy it"

And so you did, you watched between them as you unhurriedly removed inch by inch of the dress from your body, only of course, they weren't looking back at you, their focus was on each piece of skin you uncovered, until your dress fell to the ground, and you were fully bare before them.

Tommy hadn't stopped touching the front of his jeans for one second.

"goddamn" he breathed, taking in every part of you "give me a lil' twirl, sweetie"

you did, and a little smile spread on your lips once you heard him let out a low whistle.

"bend over"

It was so weird having to obey someone else's commands other than Joel's, but you wanted to prove how good you were, so of course, you did: you placed your hands on the coffee table before you and lowered your torso until you could feel air hitting your core.

You couldn't see any of them, but you damn sure could feel their stare.

"look at that" Tommy purred "Such a pretty little pussy- so needy"

It was taking all of him not to stand up and taste you right now, and fuck but the urge only got stronger once Joel offered him an even better view.

"Spread your cheeks babygirl, let Uncle Tommy get a good look"

It took a bit of effort to support yourself without the help of your hands, but you were starting to feel desperate.

"fuck" Tommy growled "The pictures don't do her justice, man"

Your eyes widened at those words.

Joel had shown him the pictures!?

You stood up in a haze, turning around quickly.

"Y-you've seen the p-pictures? B-but-" your nerves were getting the better of your mouth "Daddy you said they were only for y-you-"

"I know what I said" Joel stopped you, his voice calm as ever "I only showed 'em to Tommy to show him your progress, to show him how good you've been this past few weeks" he explained, heat inevitably rising to your cheeks at the flattery "so that he could decide if he wanted to help you or not, get it babygirl?"

"O-oh- ok" you hummed, nodding shily.

Of course there was a reason.

"You looked real good in 'em baby" Tommy smiled "You should consider being a model"

You bit down a smile, embarrassed at his kindness

"Even the special kind" he smirked "I know I would pay good money to see all this" he said, gesturing roughly to your whole body.

Heat rushed to your cheek and neck as you bit your lip.

"Now" Tommy propped his elbows on his thighs "You've told me all about how daddy makes you feel good... but nothin' about how you make him feel good"

"O-Oh, I-" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers behind your back

"My brother's taught you how to suck cock baby?"

"y-yes" you nodded "he did"

"good" he said, spreading his legs "whatcha waiting for then?"

"O-oh" you stuttered, giving Joel a quick look just to have him encourage you in the task, which is why you quickly moved to get down on your knees before your Uncle- well, step-uncle to be exact.

Your hands were the tiniest bit shaky as you started undoing his zipper, and when you looked up, saw Tommy's big hazel eyes looking down at you with such intensity and lust, you couldn't help but feel even more nervous,

Joel was right, you knew everything about him, about how he did all of this, but you didn't know absolutely anything about Tommy... about what you were going up against.

"she always this slow?" Tommy grumbled, looking over at his brother.

"'m doing my best, trust me, but she's a real slow learner" Joel sighed, joining his brother in his annoyance.

You were mumbling a soft "sorry", when with a grunt, Tommy had freed his cock.

You watched him wide-eyed, before panning over his dick- it was almost the same as Joel if it weren't that Joel's was a little girthier, and that he didn't have so much black curly hair at the base.

"what is it now, I need to feed it to ya too?"

He'd become so impatient... so mean and far from the kind man he was just five minutes ago.

"I'm sorry Uncle Tommy" you murmured, hurriedly starting to lick his tip, first the slit, then the whole head, until finally you took it in your mouth, gently massaging the start of his cock with your tongue.

Tommy only hummed, his hand going to the back of your head

"down" he ordered, so of course, you did.

You fed more of him into your mouth, tasting more and more of him, of his skin, the feel of his veins, of the subtle twitches he produced, until you were almost all the way, and an inevitable gag made its way out of your mouth.

But that was normal, it was very hard to get a cock all the way down your throat on the first try, daddy had taught you that, so you did what you knew worked, you started bobbing your head up and down... getting it all wet made it easier to go down your throat.

"faster, sugar"

You hollowed your cheeks, following orders and following the pace Tommy's hand forced on your head with his hand.

"that's it" he groaned "Now show me what daddy taught you, take it all down that pretty throat"

You wanted to tell him that you weren't quite ready yet, that his cock was a new one after all, but you had no time, he'd already forced you down, and you were already choking on his dick.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back as his hips thrust up like there was any more space for him inside of you.

"Fuck" he breathed, looking down at you while talking to his brother "it's like she was made to suck cock"

"I know right?" Joel chuckled, admiring you too

"The trainin' really paid off"

"Don't I know it..." Joel grinned "Once a day- that's all it took"

"Once a day- fuck- lucky bastard"

And yes of course, in the meantime, you were coughing and choking and spitting on his cock, tears streaming down your face and staining your sight, so much you couldn't even make up what Tommy looked like anymore.

"you look so pretty like this baby" Tommy cooed, his hips still slowly rocking against you, worsening the situation almost as much as the hand that was keeping you down. "cryin' around your uncle's cock like a good girl" he groaned, talking to his brother again "don't she?"

"Looks almost as good as when she's cryin' around mine," Joel grinned as he freed his cock, taking your hand in his only to wrap it around it

"Can't forget about Daddy can ya?" Tommy chuckled, watching you absentmindedly starting to stroke him.

You were pretty sure you were about to faint at any moment now.

"Such an obedient girl" Tommy cooed, before abruptly releasing you "suck my balls now"

You were couching like a maniac, but he was already forcing your mouth close to his balls

"I-I've nev-"

"I didn't ask you to talk now, did I?"

You gulped, feeling the rest of some tears wet your cheeks as Joel guided your hand up and down his manhood

"N-no"

"What did I ask you to do?"

"t-to suck your balls"

"yeah?" he breathed "Then how come you ain't doing that yet?"

that's all the incentive you needed- you bent down and took one of his heavy balls into your mouth.

"Fuck- wasn't so hard, was it?" he groaned, feeling you lick and suck so very diligently.

He was saltier here, and it was kind of a weird feeling... daddy had never asked you to do this.

"That’s right look at me, baby," he groaned, "look at your uncle while you suck his balls- good girl"

Joel had stopped guiding you now, you were doing it all on your own.

"get back to my dick sugar, I wanna feel it down your throat again"

So you did, his hand going back to its previous position and keeping you down as you cried and gagged.

"'s good-fuck"

"babydoll-" joel's voice was stern.

You'd stopped stroking his cock, and you hand't even realized, you were too lost in the mess Tommy was making of you- so lost in fact you didn't even hear his reprimand.

Which is why the slap that Tommy gave your cheek took you even more by surprise, making you cry out.

"Daddy's cock ain't gonna stoke itself, honey"

You tried to blink the shield of tears covering your eyes, but it was all useless- you started stroking Joel again as Tommy taunted you.

"what, 's too hard to do two things at once for that lil' brain of yours?"

Joel laughed, his hips thrusting up to feel even better

"Shoulda seen her tryin' to do her homework with my cock in her pussy" Joel said, causing his brother to grin

"'s just what dick does to dumb lil' sluts" Tommy shook his head, admiring you still choking on his manhood "shuts their brain right off"

"Ain't that right..." Joel hummed knowingly.

They were talking like you weren't even there... although truth be told, you weren't actually able to comprehend most of it- your brain had turned into a fuzzy blob.

Tommy took decisions very quickly, you’d gathered that by now, but that didn’t mean you weren’t left dumbfounded all the same.

“As much as I like your mouth- it’s time i feel that pussy around my cock baby”

And just like that, he’d let you go- giving you a moment to slide his manhood out your mouth, and wipe the spit and tears off your face.

It was only a minute later, when you were done cleaning up, that you realized Joel’s cock was still in your hand.

“I-“ you breathed, shy underneath the men’s gazes “Do you want my mouth too daddy?”

He smiled proudly at you

“‘S alright- today’s about Uncle Tommy”

You nodded, slowly removing your hand and positioning it on your thighs, together with your right one.

You kneeled there, sitting on your heels, waiting for an order.

But you didn't need to wait long.

"You wanna fuck her here?"

Joel sounded as if he was talking about work

"Nah, wanna fuck her in her bed"

While Tommy sounded like he was talking about a hunt.

"you heard him doll" said Joel "lead the way"

It was such a strange feeling walking ahead of them, completely naked, completely wet, as you made your way to your room- and yet it was also thrilling.

Tommy was smirking as he looked around your room- it was exactly as he'd pictured it.

You were looking at him, at them, biting your lip nervously as Tommy rounded the space, while Joel decided to sit on the armchair in the corner next to the bed.

You were looking at Joel to try and grasp what you were supposed to be doing, what he wanted you to do, but he didn't let anything transpire.

Until finally, Tommy turned to you and walked right before you.

Your face was still damp when he grabbed it, squeezing your cheeks.

"You know what's gonna happen now sugar?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

He was gonna make love to you, you thought, but he was already wording it differently

"I'm gonna fuck you" he murmured, his mouth ghosting yours "and you're gonna be real good for me alright?"

"y-yes"

"yeah?" he taunted, his grip tightening

"Y-yes Uncle Tommy"

he let out a satisfied grunt as he let you go, leaving you to stand before him as he stripped of his clothes.

You felt your mouth water at the sight of him naked before you, and the feeling between your legs got much much worse.

his cock was throbbing against his stomach, still glistening from your mouth.

"ya like what you see honey?" he teased you, enjoying the blatant need in your eyes.

"I- yes" you murmured shily.

"bet you do- just can't wait to get stuffed can ya?" He smirked, watching the embarrassment creep up your face "Ain't nothin' wrong with it, 's normal for a lil' slut like you"

You gulped, watching him wide-eyed.

Daddy had called you that before, but it always confused you.

"s-slut?"

"well yeah baby" he cooed, his hands on your hips "you just took care of two cock at the same time, and now you're gonna get fucked back to back by the same two cocks" he shrugged, his lips right before yours "if that ain't what a slut does, I dunno what is"

"O-Oh"

"'s alright" he promised, his hands on your ass now "All that matters now 's that you got your daddy and me to take care of all your slutty needs"

You could only nod before he took a step back

"Now get on the bed" he spoke "face down, ass up"

You frowned then,

That's really not what you were used to doing, you liked eye contact, you liked kisses... you didn't want to be "face down, ass up"

"But Uncle Tommy- I- what if- I- want to look at you?"

he still seemed sweet as he looked at you, as he cooed "Oh baby", but then he'd grabbed your hair, pulling your head down, making you look at him.

"I see daddy hasn't taught you how it works yet" he growled "You're a slut, sweetheart- all you're good for is spreadin' your legs and followin' orders"

"You're not in charge here. If I tell you to get on all fours, you get on all fours- if I tell you to shut up and take it, you shut up and take it"

His grasp was strong, and your eyes were starting to water again, but all you could do was look at him as he spat those words at you.

"we clear?"

You nodded as much as you could given the situation

"say it"

"I-I got it"

He tugged at your hair as he growled in your face

"who's in charge?"

"You are"

And just like that, he'd let you go.

"face down, ass up" he repeated, and this time, you scurried towards the bed and complied.

You didn't dare look back, but you could feel Joel's stare right on your core, and hear Tommy's steps towards you.

"Jesus Christ"

Tommy had passed two of his digits through your folds, finding them completely soaked

"she always this fuckin' wet?" he asked his brother behind him

"You got no idea" he smirked "She leaves a stain on my pants every day she's so needy"

You'd be embarrassed by Joel's words if it weren't for Tommy's fingers plunging into you

"oh!" you moaned, your hands grabbing the sheets.

Finally

He was scissoring and curling his fingers, watching you convulse beneath him, pushing your ass back for more.

Your brain was already starting to get fuzzier when he pulled them out, forcing a whine out of your mouth.

Tommy only chuckled before popping his fingers into his mouth.

"she's sweet alright"

"yeah she is" Joel breathed, wishing he could be eating you out right then, but he'd promised his brother...

You were breathing ruggedly, peeking behind you in time to see your uncle smirk before grabbing his cock and sliding it between your folds.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan

"you want my cock baby?" he teased you, his tip gliding over your clit "You want my cock inside this sweet lil pussy?"

"y-yes" you whimpered

"beg for it"

You didn't need to be told twice, your pussy was fluttering by how much you needed it.

"please" you cried "please Uncle Tommy I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Your cock- I need it inside of me please"

And just then when you thought the torture was finally over, when he fisted the hair at the back of your head and positioned his cock at your entrance... he'd played you once again.

"'s alright baby, I got you" he murmured, sliding into you "there- it's inside now"

And he was- but only his tip.

Tears were in your eyes again. You were so fucking desperate.

"n-no please" you begged "more"

"more?" he mocked "this ain't enough? You want my whole cock?"

You tried to move your ass back to get more of him, but one of his hands was keeping you in place.

"Please!" you begged, holding back tears "I-I- please- need it"

A snicker rumbled behind you, and the hold on your hair tightened.

"what are you?"

You knew what you had to say, and you didn't even hesitate a second.

"I'm a slut"

A soft hum of satisfaction

"a lil' louder baby, let daddy hear too"

"I'm a slut daddy, I-I'm a slut"

Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the smile on his face as Joel cooed "I know baby, I know you are"

But then it all stopped mattering, everything stopped existing because Tommy had thrust his cock into you, and all you could do was hide your face in the sheets as strangled mewls spilled from your lips.

"fuck- 's tight" Tommy groaned as he bottomed out, his dick easily sliding into you because of all the slickness, but stretching you out nonetheless

"told ya" Joel chirped in, making his brother grin before he referred to you again

"this enough for you, this what you wanted baby?"

"y-yes"

"yeah? 's good- now be a good slut and take everything I give you"

And that was all the warning he gave you, before he retracted his hips, and started fucking you like a man possessed.

The sound of his balls slapping against your skin, the squelch of your juices mixing with his, and your muffled cries together with his sick groans were the perfect picture of the most violent attempt at sex you'd ever seen.

He was splitting you open, and from this position, everything felt amplified ten times over, you could feel his cock even in your throat.

"oh my g-god" you were crying, actual tears and drool staining the sheets.

"I know baby, I know issa lot" he growled, one hand on your head and one on your hips "But this 's what you wanted- this is what a slut like you needs"

And then he was forcing your head even more down on the bed, somehow picking up the pace, and making you forget all about your name and what you were even thinking about.

"that's right, like that- take it" he grunted "Take it all in this tight fukin' pussy"

The slap on your ass came out of nowhere, and for some reason was followed by your moan, and your back arching, as if you were begging for more.

Your mind wasn't in control anymore, it was just your body, only your needs driving you.

Which is why when he did it again, and then again, and then again, until your ass was red and aching and your tears had formed a pool on the bed, your walls squeezed around him impossibly tight, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"Good little whore" he was grinning in the meantime "scream for your uncle baby- like that baby- now stay still-"

It didn't even come to mind to ask why, your brain was too murky, and his cock was still splitting you in half- the only thing you could do was gasp when his wet thumb probed at your asshole.

"Shhh" he shushed you, still forcing your head down "just take it"

And so you did, Daddy had trained you for this kind of stuff, so it wasn't that bad, it was just very unexpected

"she's fucking obedient when she wants huh?" he was talking to Joel again, who was palming his cock through his jeans.

"she's a real good girl when she's fucked out"

"yeah she is"

He was fingering your ass with his thumb as he fucked you, and your eyes were closed as you moaned like a madwoman into the thick air.

It felt so fucking good- it felt so fuckin-

"Oh god-"

he was going faster again, and his finger was deeper now in your ass and it felt so good now that it was... it was too much-

"T-tommy" you tried to speak, but your own moans interrupted you

"sush baby- or Imma have to tell daddy to put that mouth of yours to good use"

Fuck but that image made you tighten even more, and the chuckle leaving his lips meant he definitely noticed

"found yourself a real whore brother"

You were too overwhelmed by everything you were feeling, by your stomach squeezing as Tommy's cock hit that good spot inside you, by the foreign feeling of his thumb in your ass.

"d-daddy!" you cried, begging him for help.

Only Tommy had to come in and crush your hopes immediately.

"daddy ain't gonna help you sweetie" he cooed, your eyes on the back of your head "You just gotta take what I give you, and come on my cock like a good girl"

"can you do that f'me?" he spoke, "can you come around your favorite uncle's cock?"

And there was nothing you could do- it was inevitable

"yes" you whimpered

"I can feel it baby, c'mon " he urged, his thrust even deeper now "give it to me- give it to me like a good slut"

And just like that- your vision went white as a tsunami of sick, twisted pleasure coursed through your body, leaving you out of breath and barely awake as it died down, as you finally came back to earth to realize Tommy had been speaking you for some time.

"this pussy's beggin' me to come inside brother" Tommy was groaning, and you must have been out of it for a while because Joel was now next to his brother, standing on the side of the bed

"Tell daddy how much you want my come inside ya sweetie"

both men were looking at you with pure, glistening lust in their eyes

"I-inside" you finally whimpered

"not inside darlin'" Joel shook his head,

"b-but daddy- I- I wanna be full of him"

Tommy had a really hard time not coming right there after that.

"Yeah man, c'mon" Tommy grinned, his thumb now out of you and both his hands stroking your ass "you heard your babygirl- she wants it real bad"

Joel only needed to shoot him a glance to make him shut up

"Ass, face, or tits," he told him, and although Tommy rolled his eyes, he still chose

"y'know it's face"

Before you knew it you were kneeling on the floor and Tommy was jerking off right before you.

Your mouth was open, your tongue was out, but that didn't matter much... Uncle Tommy's aim wasn't very good.

He came with a loud groan, looking down at you and the masterpiece he was painting on your face the whole time.

"You look real fuckin' pretty like this" he grinned, his voice slightly out of breath as he grabbed your chin to inspect you better.

What he didn't expect was what you did next... Daddy had taught you manners after all.

He watched you as you started collecting his come with your index finger, and then he watched you pop it into your mouth, liking his spunk from it like it was the tastiest whipped cream.

You did it until your whole face was clean, and he couldn't stop fucking smirking.

"what do we say?" You heard Joel speak from beside you

"thank you, Uncle Tommy"

He couldn't help but reciprocate your smile "Anytime baby"

Joel didn't even wait a second before he was helping you up and onto the bed again.

You sat there as Tommy replaced his brother's spot on the armchair, while Joel took off his clothes-

Yes you were spent by all that Tommy had done to you, but you'd be lying if you said your hole didn't flutter around nothing every time you saw your step-dad naked.

"lay down babygirl"

You did, and not even a second later, Joel had pushed his cock inside of you, groaning lowly as he worked himself in to the hilt.

"daddy" you gasped, his dick stretching you out as always.

"I know darlin', I know" he cooed, remaining buried inside you as he pushed you up on the bed and then crawled on top of you "such good lil' girl, takin' it so well f'me sugar"

His words melted you as always, and then when he leaned down and crashed your lips in his... you became a doll at his mercy.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arm around his neck, keeping him impossibly close.

He smiled as he leaned away

"'m not going anywhere babydoll" he smirked, his soft mouth on the shell of your ear "not until you come for me" he murmured, sending a shiver down your spine "not until I've filled this pussy all the way up"

You moaned at his words, and he smiled as he started moving, slowly picking up his pace, until he too, just like his brother, was slamming into you at a brutal pace.

You were crying out, desperately grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, while he was kissing your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses wherever he could.

It was then your gaze somehow settled on Tommy, on your step-uncle, sitting in the corner before you, and on his insatiable eyes fixated on you.

He smirked when he caught you.

"daddy feels good baby?"

"y-yes" you moaned

"not better than me right?"

"shut up Tommy" Joel grumbled

You wanted to smile but Joel was pounding you so hard that a whine left your throat instead

"'s alright, daddy can take it, can't ya Joel?" Tommy chuckled "I can tell you miss me already baby" he cooed "miss my cock, my thumb in that pretty ass..."

Joel grunted as he picked up his pace, leaving you breathless and all but able to answer Tommy.

"Do you, doll?"

It was Joel murmuring now, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he bashed in the feeling of having taken all common sense out of you once again.

"n-no daddy" you promised "y-you feel- so-"

But you couldn't finish the sentence, another moan had interrupted you.

"what?" he taunted, both brothers grinning at your state.

"perfect" you mumbled, eyes closing and belly tightening "s-so perfect"

"that's right" Joel smirked proudly "eyes on me darlin'"

It took a lot of effort, but you managed.

"You gonna come babydoll?"

"yes" you cried "yes daddy- please"

"'s alright, come for me darlin'"

You didn't need to be told twice- you continued looking at him as pleasure took over your body, as fireworks went off and your legs trembled desperately.

You came calling for him, and once you came back to earth, his lips were on yours, drowning the whimpers his cock was still spilling from your mouth.

"You want daddy's come, sugar?"

"yes" you begged, biting your lip as his pace got more and more irregular "Please daddy- need it deep inside me"

"All of it?"

"all of it daddy- want it all- please" you cried "fill me up"

And so he did, your moans becoming one as he shot rope after rope of his come inside of you.

He kissed you again when he was done, still buried inside you to avoid it spilling out right away- but you were in another universe, your eyes were closed and your limbs powerless.

Joel smiled then, finally sliding out of you and standing up.

You wanted to curl yourself up in a sleeping position but his hands stopped you, forcing your legs open for him and his brother to admire his work.

Tommy could only groan a low "fuck" as he took his place beside Joel.

"ain't she pretty?"

"fuckin' beautiful" Tommy murmured, mesmerized by the sight before him.

There you were, laid before him, his step-niece, completely fucked out.

"we wore her out too much" Joel's brother shook his head, his fingers caressing your thighs "I was ready for round two"

Joel's lips stretched into a soft smirk

"give her ten minutes"

"she'll fall asleep in ten minutes"

Joel's smile only widened as he shook his head

"don't worry- she's good at takin' cock even in her sleep"

[mymycorrhizae]

The Last of Us | S01E06

[pedgito]

JOEL MILLER THIS

JOEL MILLER THAT

BUT HAVE YOU CONSIDERED

[baronessvonglitter]

Sweet Summer Peach

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: when your dad's best friend Joel catches you with his younger brother Tommy, it sets off a spark of jealousy that can only be tamed by showing you how a real man treats a woman.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, big ol' girthy age gap (reader is between 18-21, Joel is in his 50s, Tommy is in his 40s), Tommy is a womanizer and Joel's just trying to save you from him while also getting a little of you for himself, innocence kink, first time/loss of virginity, fingering, dry humping, truck sex on a hot day in July, unprotected p in v sex (not stated whether reader is on birth control but we'll assume she is), creampie, come eating, praise and pet names (angel, darlin', baby from Joel; sugar, sweetheart from Tommy) definitely a daddy kink as you've known Joel your whole life and he's like a second father to you, once again your dad is clueless as to what's going on, reader is also Sarah's best friend but she is only mentioned not seen. Reader has hair that Joel can pull and wears a bikini and a sundress. No use of y/n.

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Why don't you ditch that silly little wine cooler and let me give you a taste of somethin' else, sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice is sinful in your ear. "Somethin' a little stronger."

It's over a hundred degrees outside, with no comfort in the shade. The Millers are hosting their annual Fourth of July barbecue, and plenty of people are over, eating, drinking, chatting, swimming in the brand new pool. You've known Tommy and his older brother Joel for years, the latter your dad's best and oldest friend. You and Sarah, Joel's daughter, have been best friends as long as you can remember, being the same age and living just across the street from each other. Joel himself has always been like a second father to you, having watched you grow up. He took you and Sarah to ball games, to the zoo, on fishing expeditions, helped with homework, practically helped raise you. Sarah was his Baby, and you were his Angel.

Tommy, on the other hand, hasn't seen you in years. But he definitely likes the woman you've grown to be.

He's been making eyes at you all afternoon, not-so-subtle glances your way, obviously enticed by your new, revealing bikini. You're garnering a lot of attention from people today, just as you'd expected when you bought it. Your dad would sure have some comments to make on how underdressed you are, but he's not here, working until the evening, and you're taking advantage of your freedom.

Tommy awaits your answer, and with your drink gathering condensation in your hand, you tell him, "Okay," with a soft smile.

He takes your hand, fingers weaving around yours. "Let's dip into the house for a few minutes," he murmurs, eyes gleaming with mischief. Taking a quick look around you notice Joel's eyes on you, his gaze unreadable but you can sense he's on the verge of moving to stop you. But the sight of his glare only serves to stoke the fire of your excitement. It's highly likely he does not like watching Tommy lead you away to privacy.

"Where are you takin' me?" you ask, a giggle bubbling in your throat as you leave your drink behind. He's guiding you to the side entrance of the house, down the hall and to a small den. The blast of the AC hits you with sweet relief and you nearly sigh with satisfaction.

"Away from all the heat," he says, gently pushing you to the wall.

"Tommy," you giggle, half anxious, half excited.

His hands go immediately to your hips, his grip warm and firm as he pulls you close. A low, primal growl rumbles through his chest and he leans in, his nose brushing against your neck. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I got ya." His breath his hot against your skin, his teeth graze your throat, sending a shiver of want down your spine.

"You like that, sugar?" he whispers, his hands exploring your soft thighs, caressing upwards until they brush against the fabric of your bikini.

"More.." your voice comes out in a whimper.

Tommy's eyes gleam with pleasure at your desperate plea. "Greedy girl." His fingers find their way beneath your bikini bottom, gliding across your folds, grinning when you begin to grow even more wet under his touch. He teases without pushing inside, wanting to see you grow absolutely uninhibited with need. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he teases.

"Not.. used to bein' touched like this," you tell him, brow furrowed in concentration of desire.

"Mm. I can tell." His touch is gentle and insistent, seeking out the spots that make your knees buckle. "You only ever had your own fingers in ya? That it?" He drinks in your sounds of pleasure as you nod at his question. He traces over your clit, watching your hips jerk. "There ya go.." he coaxes, lips on your neck as he continues touching and teasing you. "You like that, huh? Like how I'm touchin' ya?" His fingers circle your clit until you feel yourself grow tighter and tighter, soon to unwind..

"Yes.. yes.. oh my god, oh my god," you moan, and when you open your eyes Joel is there, watching both of you. He looks pissed. You shriek as you meet his searing gaze.

"Get your fuckin' hands off her," he growls menacingly.

Your blood freezes and you're vaguely aware of Tommy's fingers slipping away as he moves from you. Then as you realize your state of dress you try to fix your disheveled bikini, a feeble attempt to cover yourself. "Joel.. I'm sorry," you whisper.

Joel's eyes stay locked on you, a possessive rage smoldering in his black depths. He steps towards you, his movements deliberate and calculated, like a predator stalking its prey. "Sorry?" he mocks. "What the fuck are you doin' in here with my little brother's hands all over ya?"

"I.. I wasn't thinking." It's the truth. For once you'd let your hormones think for you.

His expression hardens. "You weren't thinkin'? That's all you have to say?" His gaze flicks to Tommy, the simmering anger still present in his eyes. "You. Get out," he commands, his voice sharp and authoritative.

Tommy hesitates briefly, all former bravado gone in the presence of his older brother's ire, and leave you and Joel alone.

You feel ashamed, scared, still dizzy with desire if you're honest, the ache Tommy created in you still lingering. "Joel, I'm sorry.. you won't tell my dad, will you?"

Joel's gaze is intense. "You're damn right I won't. Your daddy would rip my brother limb from limb if he found out what just happened." He steps closer to you, his eyes roaming your body, taking in your scantily clad appearance. "But you and I, darlin', we need to clear some things up."

"Like what?" you ask in a small voice, expecting the worst.

"First: I don't want you alone with Tommy ever again. Am I understood?" His voice drops to a low growl. "Second: I'm not done with you, angel. You're comin' with me."

Despite knowing you're in trouble already, you're recalcitrant. "You can't tell me what to do! I'm not a child anymore!"

Joel's eyes flash with anger, and before you can react, his hand quickly clamps around your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're actin' like a child, darlin'. Now you can either come with me quietly, or you can put up a fight and I'll carry you outta here. Your choice."

For some reason the thought of him carrying you out sends a jolt straight to your center. But you relent. "Fine," you growl back. Joel hands you your sundress and you put it on, not caring to ask why he had it in his possession while you were in here with Tommy.

"Good girl," he mutters, leading you to his truck outside. He opens the door for you, the gentlemanly gesture a stark difference from his earlier demeanor. As you get in, Joel climbs into the driver's seat, his large frame filling the small space.

"Where are we goin'?" you ask as he starts up the engine and drives away with you.

He doesn't turn to look at you as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled and tense. "Somewhere we can talk, darlin'," he says gruffly. "Somewhere my meddlin' brother can't get his hands on ya."

You blush with shame as you think of what Joel saw you doing with Tommy, even though it was mostly innocent. "You don't see me as your little angel no more. do you?"

Joel's gaze flicks to you for a moment, his expression showing disappointment. "You stopped bein' an angel the moment you let my brother touch ya."

He pulls his pickup into a dirt parking lot, the location surrounded by trees and secluded from prying eyes.

"Better him than someone I don't know," you say lamely, looking around the deserted area.

"That's a low bar, angel," Joel mutters, voice thick with restraint. "You're not the only one who's noticed ya, darlin'. Hell, the whole damn town's been watchin' ya grow up."

"Tommy's the one who approached me. It wasn't my fault."

"Of course. He'd be blind not to want ya," he mutters darkly. "But you're not the first girl he's had his eye on, baby, and you ain't gonna be the last either."

It stings, but you try not to let it show. "I'm not tryna marry him, we were just havin' fun."

Joel scoffs, his eyes betraying his jealousy. "Fun, huh? Is that what you call it? You have no idea what my brother is like. He's no good for you. You're too young, too innocent, too damn pure."

"Evidently I'm no longer pure by your standards," you shoot back, arms crossed. "A girl can't enjoy herself without bein' a slut, right?"

His jaw clenches. "That's not what I meant. You're not just some toy for my brother to play with and toss aside. You don't know what he could do to you."

You remember Tommy's gentle, sure touch, the way his fingers glided over your most secret parts. "I got a sense of what he could do to me," you can't resist goading Joel. "And it felt so good.."

Joel looks like he's trying to swallow glass. "I bet he made you feel things you've never felt before, didn't he?"

"Almost.. not quite.." Blush fills your face.

"You mean he didn't make you come."

To have it put so bluntly makes you blush all over again. "No.. he didn't."

Joel wets his lips. "I bet it drove you crazy, havin' him touch you like that and not bein' able to finish.. must've driven you wild, huh?"

This is crazy. This conversation is crazy. This whole thing is crazy! It's like you're a kid again and Joel's trying to explain the birds and the bees because your own father doesn't want to.

"Yeah," you answer softly. "It's like an ache that won't go away."

His gaze darkens, drinking in the image of you all desperate, unable to get what you want. "And you're still achin', aren't ya, darlin'?" His voice is low, husky, intimate.

You feel small under his gaze, like a piece of meat being dangled before a hungry lion, like Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. "Yes," comes your whispered reply.

Joel leans close, his large hands reaching out to cup your face. "Tell me what you want, angel."

He's giving you a choice, unlike Tommy who did what he wanted to do. Joel is giving you a choice.. "Make this ache go away for me.. please.."

His desire burns fiercely as he hears the plea in your voice. "You sure that's what you want, baby? Because once you let me in, there ain't no goin' back." His hands slide down to caress your neck, his touch both possessive and gentle.

You whimper. Once you let me in.. You're a fool not to think he means anything else. "I'm sure," you whisper, keeping your gaze on his dark eyes.

It sounds like a dare, like a threat, as he says, "All right, darlin'. You asked for it," and grabs hold of your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling him. You let out an involuntary gasp. His hands slide down from your waist to grab handfuls of your round ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks firmly. "I've had a mind to do this for a long damn while," he growls. "You've been fillin' out lately, and those tight little shorts you wear 'round my house ain't doin' nothin' but teasin' my cock."

All your breath leaves you, the way he's grabbing you sends waves of heat and longing throughout your body.

His eyes burn as he feels your reaction to his touch. "You like that, baby?" he continues to grab and squeeze. "I've had to look at those tight little shorts of yours every time you come over.. always showin' off that perfect peach. Even now, this lil' sundress ain't barely coverin' anything." He kneads your cheeks again, giving them a light slap each.

You gasp at the sweet little stings, and each insistent knead of his hands on your ass pushes you forward onto his hard-on that tents his jeans. "That's it, angel. Ride my lap, just like that," he grunts. Your palms are planted on his shoulders, fingers gripping tightly as you grind yourself against him. Your heart is liable to shoot out of your chest but he feels so damn good, and so dangerous. "Like this?" you ask.

"Yeah, just like that, baby." Joel looks up at you, the mask of his authority slipping just a little as he watches you. "You feel that? That's what this pretty lil' ass does to me." Another quick little slap on your butt.

"Mm hmm," you reply, too caught up in the feeling to give a proper reply. "Oh my, I'm makin' such a mess on you," you whisper, noticing the wet spot on his jeans where you've been grinding on him without a care.

"Don't worry about me, darlin'. That's what I want." His voice is thick with desire and need. "I want you all wet and messy for me."

Jesus, the man knows just what to say.. "Joel," you whine. "You said you'd make the ache go away but you only made it worse.."

He quirks a brow. "That so? Well then I better do somethin' about that." One hand snakes its way between your bodies, his fingers easily finding your pussy through the thin material of your bikini bottom. You bite your lip as a curse word leaves your mouth, your head tilted back as he finds you wet and wanting. His fingers glide easily through your folds. "You're soaked, angel." He presses a kiss against your neck, grazing his teeth upon your skin as his fingers finally enter you, pressing into your sweet, welcoming warmth.

Brows furrowed, you start moving against his touch, sighing darkly as you feel his gentle love bite. "It's all.. for you," you sigh.

"I know it is, darlin'. Always has been." As his fingers rock inside you his thumb rubs small circles against your clit.

You ride his fingers, your breath shaking, gasping at the sweet intrusion. "Joel.. don't stop.. don't stop, I'm gonna come!"

"Go on, angel," he gruffs out. "Come for me.."

He holds you tight as you come undone on his lap, your pussy walls contracting around his fingers. "That's it.. good girl.." he praises. He withdraws them gently, shiny and covered in your thick, stringy slick. In a haze of pleasure you watch as he brings them to his lips, licking them clean. "You taste even better than I dreamed."

"Let me taste," you whisper, grabbing him for a kiss and swirling your tongue against his, tasting the remnants of your fulfillment. Your heart leaps as he goes to unbuckle his belt, and your body pulsates with unbridled need that overshadows all other thoughts.

"I need to be inside ya, darlin'."

"Yes.. please," you beg shamelessly.

"Lift up, angel," he whispers, pulling his jeans and boxers down halfway as you give him room. His cock springs up from his nest of dark brown wiry curls: a perfect, slightly curving length, thick and veiny, reaching up past his belly button, his precum already dribbling from the tip. His balls are heavy and full, lifting slightly as he pulls on himself, getting him primed for you. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, voice low and thick with desire.

"Yes," you nod eagerly.

With your bikini bottom pushed to the side, he puts you over him again and starts to press into you. A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he firmly holds your hips. You gasp at the surrealness of the moment, straddling him in the driver's seat of the truck he taught you how to drive in just a couple short years ago. You whimper his name as you take a little of him at a time.

He claims your lips in a deep kiss, tongue delving into your mouth as he slowly sinks deeper inside you. Just when you think it's impossible to fit all of him, his kiss eases the way and you sink further down. "God," you sigh.

"You're doin' so good, baby. You feel so damn good around me," he soothes, completely. He starts to lift you up, to go slow and steady as already you're dripping onto him, your juices flowing down his shaft and drenching his pubes. You spread your thighs wider, feeling every inch of him inside you, a pleasure and yet a small pain. "Let me feel you like this for a little bit," you tell him, sheathing him with care.

"Whatever you want, darlin'. It's all yours," he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, trying to still his heart, trying to catch his god damn breath.

"All mine," you whisper back, your breath tickling his ear. "My first.." You kiss him again and let your tongue tease his.

"Damn right," he growls. "And I'm gonna make sure you remember it forever. You're gonna feel me for days.." With that he starts to move, slowly, generating the friction your unsatisfied body so craves. "Grind yourself on me, just like that," he whispers, pulling the front of your sundress down to reveal your bikini top, and peels that back to expose your breasts, your nipples like pert raspberries. He palms them roughly before tasting each one, swirling his tongue around one bud while pinching the other.

You squirm in his lap, moving up and down his shaft, coating him with your cream. "You're so fucking deep," you moan, cupping his head as he feasts on your tits.

"There ya go.. take all of me. Lemme fill ya up," he grunts. His body tenses under yours as you speed up, mesmerized as your tits bounce up and down right in front of him. "That's it.. ah, such a good girl for me. How much more ya want? How much can ya handle?"

"I want.. fuck!.. I want more," you moan. "Fuck me, Joel!"

At your command he thrusts up, deep and rough, pulling your hair back so he can watch your body, gleaming with sweat, pulsate with pleasure as he taps into your primal need. The truck windows are fogged up as the vehicle gently bounces with your movements. His long, thick fingers leave marks on your hips and your ass cheeks.

He pistons up into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the truck, along with his grunts and the heavenly crescendo of your sweet moans. He keeps up the rigorous pace and you're on the edge, about to topple over into bliss. "Come on, baby," he urges you. "Yeah, that's it.. come for me.."

Only a few more fierce, upward thrusts and you come, with him nestled in up to the hilt so that every inch of him can feel you quake with pleasure. Your pussy flutters and convulses around him as you rear your head back, basking in the sublime pleasure. Joel follows soon after, unable to resist as he comes deep inside you. You give a little gasp at the warm bursts of his release, unlocking something primal in you. "Give me every drop," you whisper.

"It's all yours, darlin'," he hisses, holding onto you as he pumps stream after stream of his thick white cum within you.

Your eyes meet as he finally stills, slumping back down in his seat, still holding you close so you can feel the thundering beat of one another's hearts. "God.. you filled me up," you say in amazement, feeling him drip out of you already though he hasn't made a move to disengage from you yet.

"Imma fill you up any damn time you want," he rumbles. "Even if I gotta sneak into your room at night. Your daddy ain't gonna know a thing."

You bite your lip, realizing he's not kidding, he's not giving promises he doesn't mean to keep. "He'd probably kill you if he knew what we just did."

Joel's eyes burn with a determination that scares you a little. "Well he ain't gonna ever know. I got ways of keepin' things quiet." He gazes at you and his eyes soften, as if he's looking upon the most beautiful and innocent thing in all the world. "I always knew I wanted ya, ever since you turned into such a sweet little treat."

His phone rings and he groans when he realizes it's your father. He puts a hand over your mouth even though you wouldn't dare let on that you're with him, and makes the conversation as quick as possible before hanging up. "We better go, darlin'. Your daddy's waitin', wonderin' where you are," he says casually, as if he hadn't just had a conversation with your dad while balls-deep inside you.

You lift yourself off him wincing a little at the soreness between your thighs. The remnants of Joel's sticky seed start to trickle down your leg. He runs his thumb along your inner thigh, gathering his cum and brings it to your lips. You suck the salty fluid off his thumb. "I'm not wasting any of it," you tell him, licking your lips as you swallow.

"God damn," he mutters hotly. "You're killin' me, angel," he says, helping you arrange your clothes so you're decent again.

"Not anymore.. you just turned this angel into a devil.."

"Hey pumpkin, where ya been?" your dad greets you as you get out of Joel's truck in his driveway. Walking is a little painful as you're still sore, but you try to act natural.

"Beer run," Joel answers for you, holding up a twelve-pack of Corona Extra.

"Joel took me on a ride," you can't help saying, "It was fun." His cum is still collecting in your swimsuit bottom. "Hey Daddy, Sarah asked me to spend the night with her, so I'll be here all night. Is that okay with you, Joel?" You suppress a smirk as you address both the men.

Joel's heart rate spikes and his imagination runs wild in the quick span of a moment before he says, "Of course it is. You're always welcome here."

And later, when the Fourth of July fireworks cast their multi-colored lights on the black horizon, no one notices as you and Joel sneak away together, the booms overhead concealing your noises of gratification.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[maxbegone]

OG CAST IN THE LAST OF US (HBO)

bonus laura bailey cameo:

[slowdivinqs]

Magnetism

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel photo by dinasawrus on pinterest, banners by cafekitsune

Summary: Having a steamy make out session behind the Tipsy Bison with a certain soft spoken Texan.

Warnings: 18+! There’s NO actual smut, just the make out session. Hidden relationship vibes ( they don’t wanna be caught ). Images in the header are just for aesthetic purposes. Subby Joel vibes but also not, we got a mix of both. Soft!Joel and Jackson!Joel. Can imagine either Pedro or Game Joel.

A/N: I’m back! I was so shocked by the love on my last fic, thank you so much! This one is really rushed and quick - the idea came to me because of a reel on instagram. Yeah.

Do not copy or repost my fics anywhere! No AI bots either, I will find you

Tommy’s put on Alice In Chains again for the fifth time Tonight.

Joel groans against you, but not like how he’s been groaning for the past 20 minutes. He’s irritated this time.

“Goddamnit. Someone oughta knock him over the head.” Joel mutters breathily, scowling at the back entrance to the bar like Tommy will sense his ire through the exposed brick and wood.

You take the time to admire his roused hair. Your head hits the outside wall of the Tipsy Bison with a soft thump, and your eyes are hazy and heavy from the sight of the man in front of you.

Joel Miller. Thee scary, grumpy, tense, asshole, tommy’s-goddamn-brother Joel Miller.

He’s a sight to behold. Flushed cheeks and, cutely, ears. Messy hair from your fingers and unbuttoned collars of typical flannel shirts.

All because you’ve been kissing him. Like teenagers, actually.

You’re not sure why you’re still standing outside the bar in the chilly air instead of being buried under his warm body screaming his name.

Well, that’s a lie. You do know.

It’s the sound he makes when his lips caress yours, the little sharp intake of air through his nose as he tilts his head to the side; nose poking your cheek. The way he groans as you bite his plump bottom lip when you dance your tongue back and forth with his.

The way he holds your waist like you’re all he’s ever wanted like he’s a man obsessed, possessed. Whatever you want to call it.

Your hands come up to rest just under his jaw, cupping behind his ear, and feel his hair tickling the tips of your fingers - guiding him back to look at you.

“Pearl Jam sounds the same sometimes,” you say to him, looking at his kiss swollen lips.

“You must be losin’ your hearin’, darlin’ girl.”

He looks drunk. Not just from Seth’s conspicuous beer, but from your kisses. His eyes are soft-blown wide, locking onto your eyes with a haziness that implies they actually want to flutter shut like they have been doing the moment your lips touch. His eyebrows are semi-lifted, not set in their usual, gravity-demanding scowl.

You run your thumb over his jaw, pulling him back to you so lightly it seems like magnetism. His brows furrow, eyes give in and flutter before he’s molding his lips against yours like it’s a drug. Groaning against your mouth as he rests his clenched fist on the wall just above your head. His other hand coming up to the soft skin underneath your jaw.

The sound of you kissing - the little smack and strangely erotic sound of salivating mouths moving together. His soft moans and heavy breaths pushing against your skin as a huff.

You don’t blame him, you feel drunk on this too.

The weight of your arms feels heavier when you lift them to wrap around Joel’s shoulders. Those damn, broad shoulders. You can feel the muscle of them along that soft inner part of your forearms, Can feel them shift and move as he leans in closer to wrap his arms around your waist and leave no atoms between you, his lips against yours like a lifeline - like it kills him every second they’re not.

He fucking moans when you grip the awkward-length hair on his nape.

You’re broken out of the haze by your screaming lungs, pulling away with a wet smack as you pant. Your fluttery eyes - damn it’s contagious - see your breath move through the cold air. The image of how your make-out must’ve looked from the third person, big bad Joel Miller kiss-drunk and desperate - your panting breaths mingling in the air around your faces as you two make kissing seem like something that is as erotic as straight sex outside of the Jackson bar.

You feel the arousal zing through your body before it drips out of you.

His scruff nuzzles against your neck, leaving the same burn you feel around your lips and cheeks. Everything is tingly.

“Joel, someone is going to come out here,” you whisper into the chill. Those lips of his don’t stop their sloppy caress of your neck, making you turn in his direction and try to contain a little noise you know will make him reckless.

He whines - whines - against your neck, not stopping his ministrations, only pulling back to kiss you again, eat you like it’s what he’s been waiting for his whole life.

“Then come back to my place“ he murmurs, but he’s lost in the haze. Almost as if he’s finally reached that hazy high from your mouth that he keeps coming back for.

You melt into him again, pulling him closer until you can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours. He’s practically a wall you’re holding onto. Breathing in and molding your mouth around.

There’s a loud squeak and a bang as the bar door opens and knocks against the wall, your hands are still around Joel’s neck as you both look over in surprise. Moments later Tommy’s thrown out right on his ass, which makes Joel laugh immediately.

Tommy looks over with a scowl before looking back to his friends who threw him out.

“C’mon guys!” he huffs, still on the ground

“You’re banned from the jukebox.” Seth grumbles before slamming the door right in Tommy’s face.

It looks like Tommy might go rogue, start a revolution against dictatorship of jukeboxes, but ultimately decides to take his comical frustration out on Joel.

Tommy turns to look at the both of you. Joel is still chuckling slightly, wiping the corner of his eye, still standing right up against you.

“Shut up. You’re busy suckin’ face when I needed backup.” Tommy huffs, wiping stones and dirt off his ass, grumbling to himself, glaring at the door - similarly to his brother - like he could take control of the jukebox with his mind and play Alice In Chains again like a poltergeist.

“Priorities, brother.”

Tommy lovingly gives Joel the finger, before grumbling and walking home, a hand on his probably bruised backside.

Tysm for reading! If you enjoyed pls lmk as well as reblogging! ◡̈

Tags:

[joelsrose]

First Date?

part 2

this is a long one - strap in for some slow burn yearning <333

You and Joel were complicated—or at least, that’s what you told yourself when the ache in your chest got too loud to ignore.

Joel Miller was the embodiment of contradictions. A lone wolf by nature, with a gruff exterior and a sharp tongue that could cut through even the strongest defenses. He was the kind of man who carried his burdens silently, his pain etched into every line on his face. At times, he was rough, even cruel in his honesty, like he’d long since decided the world didn’t deserve his softness.

But then there were moments—rare, fleeting moments—that haunted you. Times when his actions betrayed him, when he’d do something so achingly kind, it felt deliberate. Like he wanted you to see a glimmer of the man hidden behind the walls he’d built. Those moments unsettled you, because they forced you to consider that maybe, just maybe, Joel Miller wasn’t as simple as the role he played.

And yet, the cycle was maddeningly predictable. You’d lie in bed replaying his tenderness in your mind—a quiet gesture, a word spoken softly, the way his hand lingered just a fraction too long. You’d convince yourself he meant it, that it was a crack in his armor, a glimpse of something real.

But then the next day, without fail, he’d shut you out all over again, rebuilding the walls you thought you’d glimpsed past. A cold remark, a dismissive shrug, a reminder of his unyielding distance.

And so it went, over and over—a push and pull that left you wondering which version of Joel was the truth.

It had been like this for months now.

Patrolling together had become a silent routine—Joel keeping to himself, speaking only when necessary, his words clipped and efficient as if conserving energy for something more important. Orders were given in a low, gruff tone, and you followed them without question. By the time you’d make it back, you could count the words exchanged on one hand.

But just as you’d turn to leave, he’d do something that unraveled the simplicity of your assumptions. Like passing you your scarf—the one you’d left behind without a second thought, easily retrievable the next day. He’d shove it into your hands without meeting your gaze, muttering something gruff about it getting cold, as if it hadn’t taken effort to notice—or care.

Or when you’d stop to rest mid-patrol, exhaustion gnawing at you, and he’d quietly slide his food your way. “Ain’t hungry,” he’d mutter, avoiding the weight of your questioning eyes. It was an excuse so thin you could see through it, but you didn’t dare push.

Joel Miller was an enigma you couldn’t crack, and it bugged the hell out of you. He’d bark at you for the way you held your weapon, his frustration simmering just under the surface as he corrected your grip with rough hands. But then, not ten minutes later, he’d grab your pack without so much as a word, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he’d grumble when you tried to argue, his tone dismissive, like his actions didn’t contradict every wall he put between you.

You struggled to make sense of him, of the contradictions that seemed to define him. Joel was a man who scolded you one moment and softened the next, and it was driving you to distraction. Because with every small act of kindness, every begrudging gesture, he left you with more questions than answers—and no idea what to do with any of it.

You tossed and turned, your mind unwilling to settle as it churned over the absurdity of it all. Here you were, psychoanalyzing a man at least twenty years your senior, someone who probably didn’t give a second thought to the things he said or did. Joel Miller was a mystery, sure, but one he likely didn’t care to solve himself—let alone have you dissecting.

And yet, you couldn’t stop. Every small moment lingered in your mind far longer than it should have. The way his hand would brush yours when passing you something, the gruffness in his voice when he called your name, even the way his brow furrowed when he scolded you—it all dug its hooks in deep, refusing to let go.

It almost stung to think about, the possibility that you were caught up in something he didn’t even notice. That all the small gestures you replayed over and over—the scarf, the food, the quiet way he’d step in without asking—meant nothing to him.

And then there was the other problem: you weren’t even sure what you felt about him. Affection? Annoyance? Something more confusing than either? It was a tangled mess of emotions you couldn’t unravel, no matter how much time you spent trying.

As I said—it was complicated. And you hated how much that fact alone kept you awake.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Maria and Tommy were sprawled out on the couch in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the space. Tommy’s leg bounced restlessly, the only sign of his growing impatience.

“You planning on coming down sometime this year, or what?” he called out, leaning his head back to shout toward the stairs.

Maria rolled her eyes and smacked his thigh, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet. “Tommy! Be nice,” she scolded, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“What?” he said, shrugging dramatically. “She’s takin’ forever!”

Maria shook her head, leaning back into the cushions with an exasperated sigh.

You let out a sharp breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Ridiculous—that’s the only word that came to mind. Your hair was down, soft and loose around your face in a way that felt foreign. You were wearing a skirt. A skirt. You hadn’t worn one since you were a kid, and now here you were, fumbling through the motions of playing dress-up, chasing some semblance of femininity you weren’t even sure you could pull off.

You felt out of place in your own skin, like an imposter pretending to be someone else for the night.

But this wasn’t just any night. You were going on a date.

Yes, a date. The word felt strange, heavy with meaning.

Maria and Tommy had finally grown tired of your groaning, your wistful complaints about how you wanted more from life—someone to share it with, someone to love. A family, children. You wanted it all, and the years weren’t exactly slowing down to wait for you to figure it out.

So - they decided to set you up with someone—a blind date, no less, which only made your stomach twist tighter with anxiety. But you trusted them, trusted their judgment, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown without a safety net.

You took a steadying breath and made your way downstairs, the sound of your footsteps drawing their attention.

“Well, look at this,” Tommy said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You look beautiful, darlin’.”

Maria was up in an instant, her eyes soft as they swept over you. “You look…” She trailed off, her smile growing warmer, as if words didn’t quite do justice to what she wanted to say.

Before she could continue, Tommy clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Now, go! Don’t keep the poor guy waitin’. You’re gonna be late.”

Maria shot him a look, but you couldn’t help but smile as she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet confidence you wished you could share.

And with that, you were out the door, nerves buzzing, heart pounding, and hope flickering just beneath the surface.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You stepped into the Tipsy Bison, the warm, earthy scent of aged wood and whiskey hitting you immediately. The atmosphere was alive but not overwhelming—a mix of laughter, murmured conversations, and the occasional clatter of glassware. Fairy lights hung from the beams above, casting a golden glow over the crowd, while a crackling fire in the corner painted dancing shadows along the walls. It was cozy, intimate, the kind of place where time felt slower, more forgiving.

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the mix of people. A group by the bar exchanged stories, their laughter rising above the hum of the room. A couple sat near the fire, leaning close, lost in each other’s quiet smiles. Strangers passed plates and drinks as if the walls of the place somehow softened the harsh edges of the world outside.

Tommy had told you the blind date would meet you in the corner booth—the one closest to the window. Your heart pounded as you spotted it, empty and waiting. Sliding into the booth, you realized you were early. Too early. The cushion beneath you felt firm, grounding, but it didn’t stop the subtle shake in your hands or the restless tap of your foot beneath the table.

You weren’t cut out for this, not really. You weren’t the “first date” kind of girl, the one who could walk into a situation like this brimming with confidence and charm. No, you were the girl who got to know someone slowly—someone who spent years building a connection, falling achingly, irrevocably in love. Forced conversations and the unspoken expectation of romance felt unnatural, like trying to fit into a mold that was never meant for you.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table, and you took a slow breath, trying to will your nerves into submission. This wasn’t you, but tonight, it had to be.

Then you saw him.

Your breath caught, a sharp hitch that seemed to echo in your ears as your eyes locked on the figure stepping through the doorway. The familiar curls, unruly and streaked with gray. The deep brown eyes that held too many secrets. The lines etched into his face, mapping out stories of loss, of survival. The slope of his nose, as distinct as it was unassuming.

Joel.

There was no way. Your heart hammered against your ribs, an unrelenting rhythm that refused to calm. This can’t be happening, you thought, a tangle of shock, disbelief, and something else you weren’t ready to name.

And then he saw you.

Your instinct took over, and you looked away immediately, pretending to find something—anything—fascinating about the table in front of you. Your fingers gripped the edge of it like it might somehow keep you grounded. But, of course, it didn’t stop him.

You heard the sound of his boots before you saw him, steady and unhurried as he made his way over. There was no mistaking the purposeful stride, the way he carried himself like the room belonged to him, even if he didn’t want it to.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough, the single word carrying far more weight than it should.

You forced yourself to look up, your eyes meeting his for the briefest, most unsettling moment. And just like that, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

“Hi,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you stared up at him, wide-eyed. He was standing there, just a few feet away, towering over you in that way that made you feel small.

Why was he standing? Was he… disappointed? Your mind raced, conjuring scenarios faster than you could stop them. If he was disappointed—if the very sight of you sitting there had soured his mood—surely he’d turn around and leave without a second thought. Right?

“What are you doing here?” Joel asked, his voice low and rough, cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—uh…” Your words stumbled over each other as your confusion spilled out. “What are you doing here?”

He raised the whiskey glass in his hand slightly, the amber liquid catching the warm light of the room. “Finished patrol. Figured I’d stop in for a drink.”

Oh. So he wasn’t your date. Relief washed over you, but it was immediately chased by something else—a flicker of disappointment you didn’t quite understand.

You tried to shove the feeling aside, scolding yourself for even entertaining the idea. This is ridiculous, you thought, sitting a little straighter as if that might shake the unexpected weight in your chest.

It looked like Joel was about to say something, the faint hum of words lingering on his lips—you look…but whatever thought had been forming was cut short by the sound of a familiar voice calling your name.

Both you and Joel turned in unison, your gaze falling on the man approaching your booth.

It was Levi.

He walked with easy confidence, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. You recognized him instantly—one of the patrolmen you’d crossed paths with a few times before. He was cute, older than you, with a charm that seemed effortless, like he didn’t even know he had it.

Joel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, the faintest flicker of realization crossing his face as the pieces clicked into place.

You were on a date.

With Levi.

The weight of that understanding settled over him, his expression unreadable as he glanced between the two of you.

Levi greeted him with an easy, “Hey, man,” offering a polite nod.

Joel didn’t respond, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer. Something unspoken passed through that look—a question, maybe, or something heavier you couldn’t quite name. Then, with a brief nod of acknowledgment, he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd.

You watched him go, a strange hollowness forming in your chest, though you couldn’t say why. Levi’s voice brought you back to the present, pulling your focus away from the retreating figure and back to the man sitting across from you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Levi was polite, charming, and funny, effortlessly filling the silence with light conversation. He’d even brought drinks back to the table, setting yours in front of you with a warm smile that should have been disarming.

You talked about life in Jackson—the routines, the quirks of the people, the way the town had built itself into something resembling normalcy. Levi was easy to talk to, his words flowing smoothly, but something felt… off.

As he spoke, you found your gaze drifting, your chest tightening with an uneasy, almost nauseating sensation you couldn’t shake. Disappointment? You weren’t sure, but the feeling gnawed at you, unwelcome and unrelenting.

Your eyes darted around the room, scanning for the familiar head of curls, for him. But Joel was nowhere to be found. The firelight flickered against the walls, but his shadow wasn’t among them. You sighed softly, the weight in your chest settling heavier.

“You alright?” Levi asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You blinked, snapping your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile.

Levi’s expression softened, his tone growing hopeful. “This has been really nice,” he said, leaning forward just slightly. “Do you think we could meet up again sometime?”

His words hung in the air, kind and full of intent, but they only seemed to deepen the ache burning in your chest.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice to form a coherent response. A lump had settled in your throat, and for reasons you couldn’t fully understand, you felt the sting of tears threatening to rise.

Levi, ever the gentleman, walked you home under the quiet blanket of night, the conversation light but distant—at least on your end. When you reached your door, you hesitated for a moment before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, a small, polite gesture that felt hollow even as you gave it.

He smiled softly, murmured a quiet goodnight, and turned to leave. You stood there, watching him fade into the darkness, an ache in your chest that only seemed to deepen.

You didn’t see Levi again.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The next time you patrolled with Joel, the silence between you was heavier than usual, suffocating in its intensity. He wasn’t gruff or mean—not a single sharp remark or irritated scowl crossed his face. Instead, he was quiet. Too quiet. And it scared the hell out of you.

You couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye. There was something off about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His movements were rigid, his posture tense, like he was carrying a weight that didn’t belong to him. Every time you stepped too close, you noticed the way his shoulders stiffened, as if bracing for something unseen.

It set your nerves on edge, twisting your stomach in ways you couldn’t ignore. But you didn’t dare ask if he was okay.

You weren’t friends, after all. You were just two people forced into the same space by circumstance. And yet, the unspoken tension between you gnawed at you, leaving you wishing you had the courage to break the silence.

A pang of disappointment struck you, sharp and unrelenting. As much as Joel’s gruffness could cut, it also carried a strange, backhanded affection, a brutal cycle that had become its own kind of routine. It wasn’t healthy—not even close—but it was familiar. And somehow, in its familiarity, it offered a fleeting balm to the wounds he inflicted.

Now, even that was gone.

The two of you settled into the cabin for lunch, your legs aching as you stretched them out in front of you. Joel unwrapped his sandwich, eating quietly—methodically. He didn’t offer you his food this time. The realization settled like a rock in your stomach, its weight far heavier than it should’ve been. Why did that hurt?

You ate in silence, the muted sounds of the forest outside doing little to fill the oppressive void between you. He didn’t look at you once, his eyes fixed firmly on the wall ahead.

Joel had been so quiet for so long that when he finally spoke, you thought you’d imagined it.

Four words.

“How was your date?”

Your head snapped up, his voice breaking through the fragile reality you’d constructed to protect yourself. The question lingered in the air, heavy with meaning you couldn’t quite grasp.

He didn’t even look at you, just kept eating his sandwich like he hadn’t shattered the hours-long silence with that single, loaded question.

You blinked, caught completely off guard, your thoughts stumbling over themselves. Why did he care? No, of course, he didn’t care. He couldn’t. He was just being polite—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. But since when was Joel Miller polite?

“It was…” you started, your voice uncertain, trailing off as your mind scrambled for something to say. What did you say to that? Good? Alright? I felt no passion, the guy didn’t move me, and if you want to take me out instead, just say the word?

Your cheeks flushed hot at the thought, and you glanced at him. He wasn’t eating anymore. His eyes were on you now, dark and steady, waiting for you to finish the sentence.

“It wasn’t for me,” you said finally, the words spilling out too quickly, your voice quieter than you intended. Embarrassment prickled at your skin. You hated how much you’d let him see, even though he’d been the one to ask.

He didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, a slight, almost imperceptible movement, before returning his attention to what was left of his sandwich.

You rode back in silence.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You saw Joel around town, and it was as if nothing had changed. He moved through the streets with his usual quiet efficiency, nodding curtly to those who greeted him, keeping his interactions brief and functional. To anyone else, it was just Joel being Joel. But to you, it felt different—he felt different.

Your thoughts drifted back to that night at the Tipsy Bison, to the way he’d approached you. It struck you now just how out of character that had been for him. Joel wasn’t the type to make small talk, let alone go out of his way to seek someone out. He kept to himself, guarded and distant, speaking only when it was necessary. And yet, that night, he’d broken his own unspoken rules. He’d sought you out.

Patrols had continued in the same heavy silence they seemed to fall into since your date with Levi. You wanted to bridge the gap, to find some way to connect with him, but what was there to say to Joel Miller? The weather? The past? It all felt so futile, like trying to climb a wall that had no handholds.

Still, you couldn’t help but hope—quiet, stubborn hope—that maybe he’d say something. Like he had that night at the Tipsy Bison. That he’d let something slip, even just a few words, that would crack through the silence and remind you that Joel wasn’t just the distant, impenetrable man he wanted everyone to see.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

After one particularly unbearable patrol, the kind where the silence felt like it might crush you, the two of you worked in quiet to settle your horses for the night. The rhythmic clinking of reins and the soft shuffle of hooves filled the air, but your mind was elsewhere, turning over the weight of the silence between you.

Your eyes drifted to your horse’s saddle, noticing something off about the straps. It was an excuse—something to say, something to break the unbearable quiet.

“Joel,” you breathed, his name slipping out before you could think it through. It felt strange on your tongue, heavy and unfamiliar, almost like a confession.

He stilled, his hands pausing mid-motion as he turned to look at you, his dark eyes steady but cautious, like he was bracing for what you might say.

You swallowed, nerves suddenly tightening in your chest. “Her saddle,” you started, nodding toward the horse. “Do you think you could help me with it?”

Joel remained silent for what felt like an eternity, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. For a brief moment, you thought he was going to offer to help as he turned to face you, but instead, his words cut through the quiet of the stable like a blade.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to help you out?” he said, his voice low and gruff, the bitterness laced in his tone settling heavily in the air between you.

The comment caught you off guard, stirring something hot and restless in your chest. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, the edge in his tone that felt like a jab, intentional or not.

“He’s not my—” you began, your voice sharp with frustration, but it faltered midway, your brows knitting together in confusion. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn’t figure out what had provoked him to say that, what had driven him to let that bitterness seep into his tone.

You clenched your jaw, the knot of irritation and confusion tightening in your chest as you struggled to find the right words, to make sense of the way his comment had unsettled you. “I told you—” you tried again, but even as the words formed, they felt incomplete, unable to articulate the tangle of emotions his remark had stirred.

You’d told him it wasn’t for you. You’d made that clear. So why was he bringing Levi up now?

You stopped, the sentence hanging unfinished in the cool air. Your frustration boiled over, spilling into your movements as you grabbed your gear.

“Forget it,” you mumbled, shaking your head as you turned away, your boots crunching against the dirt floor. You didn’t wait for a reply, didn’t even look back, but the weight of his presence lingered, pressing against your back as you left.

You scolded yourself as you marched home, your vision blurring with tears you refused to let fall. What were you thinking? you berated yourself. You’d been imagining things, reading too much into fleeting moments, conjuring something out of nothing. Joel Miller was nothing more than an old, grumpy man who kept everyone at arm’s length. And you? You meant nothing to him.

The thought stung more than you cared to admit, and you quickened your pace, as if you could outrun the ache settling in your chest.

Behind you, Joel stood frozen, watching you go. He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with the storm in his head. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, the word rough and barely audible, like it was dragged out of him against his will.

His throat felt tight, constricted with all the things he wanted to say but never could.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

When you arrived at the stables for your next patrol with Joel, you’d already had a strict talk with yourself. This is just work, you reminded yourself, repeating the mantra like it might actually stick. At least now you know you were imagining it all. He’s just a lonely, miserable man, and you only have to deal with him for patrol. You can handle this.

You sighed as you approached your horse, the memory of the saddle straps creeping back into your mind. You should’ve taken care of it before today, but it had slipped your thoughts in the haze of everything else. Now, it was one more thing to annoy you during patrol.

Groaning quietly, you greeted your horse, running a hand along its neck before stepping closer to inspect the saddle. The moment your eyes landed on it, your breath caught in your throat.

It was fixed.

The leather gleamed in the soft morning light, the straps perfectly adjusted, every detail precise and cared for. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the weight of realization hitting you like a tidal wave.

There was no mistaking it. Someone had done this, gone out of their way to replace it without a word. And you didn’t have to guess who.

Joel.

The thought sent a flood of emotions surging through you—confusion, frustration, and something warmer, something softer you couldn’t quite name. Your fingers brushed over the leather, and for a moment, you stood frozen, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

You straightened up, glancing toward the other end of the stables, where Joel was preparing his horse, as silent and stoic as ever.

He didn’t look your way, didn’t acknowledge you, as if nothing had happened.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The Tipsy Bison buzzed with its usual warmth, the hum of voices and faint strumming of music weaving through the space. The lukewarm beer in front of you was untouched, the glass cool beneath your fingers as you stared into it, your mind elsewhere.

You thought about the patrol with Joel today, how he hadn’t said a word about the saddle—and neither had you. The weight of his silence pressed on you, mingling with an ache you couldn’t quite name.

“Hey, hey!” Tommy’s whistle cut through your trance, drawing your attention back to the table. “Over here!”

Your head turned instinctively, and your breath faltered. Joel was approaching, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before he shifted his focus elsewhere. You gripped your drink for comfort, your knuckles brushing against the condensation on the glass.

Joel sank into the booth across from you with a quiet groan, the seat dipping beneath his weight. He stretched his arms over the back of the booth, his movements slow and deliberate. Maria and Tommy carried most of the conversation, their easy banter filling the gaps, unaware—or perhaps purposefully ignoring—how little you and Joel contributed unless prompted.

At one point, as Maria and Tommy became engrossed in their own topic—something about fixing a water pipe—Joel’s gaze shifted to you. For a moment, he hesitated, his fingers idly tapping the edge of the table.

“The saddle,” he said finally, his voice low but distinct, breaking through the chatter. “It alright?”

You looked up, startled, your gaze colliding with his for the first time in what felt like forever. His eyes held you there, and you couldn’t look away. The depth of them caught you off guard—a rich, dark brown that seemed to hold more than you’d ever let yourself see before.

“Yeah,” you managed, unsure how much detail to give. Your voice softened. “Much better. Thank you.” You lifted your glass to your lips, taking a long sip, more for composure than anything else.

Joel gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything else, and you resisted the urge to press. There were a million questions swirling in your mind—Why did you do it? Why are you so mean one second and then so kind the next? What do you want from me?

But before you could even form the words, Tommy’s voice, slurring just slightly, broke through.

“Hey!” he said, pointing a finger at you with exaggerated clarity. “I just remembered—you never told me how it went with Mr. Levi!”

You froze, your breath hitching as Joel’s gaze snapped back to you. His expression didn’t change, but there was something pointed about the way he looked at you now, his attention fully yours.

“I—” you started, your voice faltering as you glanced between Tommy and Joel.

Tommy, oblivious to the tension, grinned lazily and leaned forward. “C’mon now, was he any good in the sack?”

“Tommy,” Joel said sharply, his tone cutting through the moment like a knife.

“Geez, I’m joking!” Tommy held up his hands in mock defense, flashing you an apologetic smile. “Shit, sorry, darlin’. Just messing around.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing it off even though your cheeks burned. You looked down at your glass before speaking again. “He was nice. I just…” You hesitated, your voice quieter now. “I don’t think it would work out between us.”

“Why not?” Tommy pressed, leaning back against the booth as if this were the most natural follow-up in the world.

You felt Joel’s eyes on you again, heavy and expectant, waiting for your answer. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and the words you wanted to say tangled in your throat. You didn’t dare look at Joel as you replied, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, about to say something else, but Maria elbowed him in the side, cutting him off with a look. “Leave her alone, Tommy,” she said, her tone sharp but affectionate.

The conversation shifted after that, Tommy’s attention diverted to a new topic, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s gaze lingering on you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The next patrol with Joel felt off the moment he approached the stables. He was nearly thirty minutes late—uncharacteristic for him, a man who was always early, often already checking his rifle or saddling his horse by the time you arrived.

When he finally showed up, his gait was unsteady, his movements sluggish, and the acrid scent of alcohol clung to him like a second skin.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered as he leaned heavily against the stable door, his shoulders slumped in a way that screamed exhaustion.

“‘M fine,” he slurred, but the slight wobble in his stance told you otherwise.

“No, you’re not,” you said sharply, grabbing his arm. “Sit down.”

He didn’t argue, sinking onto a nearby bench with a groan, his head falling into his hands.

You’d never seen Joel like this. You were so used to his rigid nature, the way he kept everything locked down, never letting anyone see past what he carefully chose to show. And now here he was—drunk? At seven in the morning?

It wasn’t just out of character; it was unsettling. A quiet worry crept up inside you, uninvited and inexplicable, tightening your chest. You weren’t sure where it came from or why it mattered so much, but seeing him like this—unsteady, vulnerable—set something off in you that you couldn’t quite name.

You grabbed your canteen and handed it to him. “Drink this.”

He squinted at the bottle like it might bite him. “Alcohol?”

“No, you idiot, it’s water,” you snapped, pushing it closer to him.

He took it reluctantly, sipping slowly before setting it aside. You crossed your arms, watching him with a mixture of frustration and concern. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Joel didn’t answer immediately. He tipped his head back, staring at the stable’s wooden beams as if they might provide an escape. His face was worn, the lines etched into it deeper than usual.

“Had a rough night,” he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and low.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you shot back, your gaze falling on the empty whiskey bottle peeking out of his saddlebag. “You’re supposed to be on patrol, Joel, not nursing a hangover.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a long, tired sigh. “Ain’t hungover. I’m still drunk.”

You shook your head, exasperated. “Okay. That’s it. I’m getting you home. I’ll patrol with someone else—I’ll call Tommy or Maria—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm despite the slur. He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. “I can do this.”

“Like hell you can,” you snapped, stepping in front of him to block his path. “I’m not dragging your drunk ass around out there. I’m a bad enough shot as it is—I’m not covering you too.”

Joel stilled at that, his dark eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, something softened in his expression, his usual gruffness melting away. “You’re not a bad shot,” he said, his voice quiet and achingly tender, like he was trying to soothe a wound you didn’t even realize you’d exposed.

His words caught you off guard, your anger wavering for just a second before you shook it off. “Let’s go,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.

Joel leaned against you, his weight heavy but manageable as the two of you walked toward his house. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence between you was thick, but it wasn’t the same as before. It felt different now—fragile, like the space between you was waiting for something to break.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You opened his door, your fingers fumbling as you fished the keys from his pocket, trying not to think too hard about the warmth of his body against yours or the faint, familiar scent of him beneath the sharp tang of alcohol.

Don’t think about that. Focus.

“All right,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the thrum of nerves in your chest. “We’re here.”

Joel hummed something incoherent in response, his eyes barely open as he leaned heavier against you.

Guiding him through the hallway, you exhaled in quiet relief when the couch came into view. Carefully, you maneuvered him toward it, letting him sink into the worn cushions with a groan.

You untangled his arm from where it had rested against your shoulder, his hand lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. He let out another low groan, his head tipping back as his eyes fluttered closed.

For a moment, you stood there, watching him, unsure if you should leave him like this. His face, softened in the haze of alcohol and exhaustion, was almost unrecognizable—like a shadow of the man he worked so hard to be.

You shook the thought away, sighing as you pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over him.

Just as you turned to leave, his voice, low and slurred, stopped you in your tracks.

“You,” he mumbled, barely audible, the word hanging in the still air.

You froze, your hand hovering over the doorframe. “What?” you asked, glancing back at him.

Joel’s eyes were half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion and alcohol, but they found yours. He looked at you like he was fighting to stay awake, fighting to say the words before sleep overtook him.

“You asked me,” he murmured, his voice rough, “what got into me.” He paused, his head tipping back slightly as if searching for the strength to continue. “Had a rough night... ‘cause I was thinkin’.”

You hesitated, the room suddenly feeling too small, too quiet. “Thinking about what?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Thinkin’ about you,” he admitted, his words slurred but unmistakable.

Your breath caught, the confession landing like a blow to your chest. Joel’s eyes closed fully then, his head sinking into the couch cushion as sleep finally claimed him, leaving you standing there, stunned and unsure if you’d just imagined it all.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You closed the door behind you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, grounding you momentarily. Thinking about you. The words echoed in your head, over and over, like a distant bell that wouldn’t stop ringing. Had you imagined them? What could he have meant?

Before you even realized what you were doing, your legs were carrying you in a sprint to Maria and Tommy’s house. Your breath came in sharp gasps as you knocked on the door urgently, your fist hitting the wood harder than you intended.

Maria opened it quickly, her expression shifting from concern to surprise as she took in your frazzled state. “Woah,” she said, eyebrows raising. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you managed, though your voice betrayed you, shaky and unconvincing. You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself as her gaze pinned you with quiet expectation.

“I, uh… Joel can’t patrol today,” you said finally, the words spilling out in a rush.

Maria frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What? Why not?”

You froze for half a second, your mind scrambling. Were you about to tell her Joel had shown up to patrol drunk? You doubted that would go over well. “He’s, uh, sick,” you blurted, praying she wouldn’t be able to tell you were lying.

“Sick?” she repeated, skepticism creeping into her tone.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding quickly. “So, I need someone else. A new patrol partner for today.”

Maria sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Alright. I’ll send Eugene and Levi. You go home,” she said firmly.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard. “No, I’ll still go.”

“No,” Maria said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “If Joel’s sick, that probably means you’re about to get sick too. Stay home.” She was already stepping back into the house, reaching for the radio. “I’ll let them know now.”

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it, nodding instead. You weren’t in the mood to fight her on this, not with your mind still racing.

As you walked back home, the cold air filling your lungs, your thoughts circled back to Joel’s words. Your breathing was still uneven, your pulse thundering in your ears as you tried—and failed—to make sense of what he’d said. Thinking about you.

What did he mean? And why did it feel like your whole world had shifted with those three simple words?

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The next week had been a blur of activity—a whirlwind of patrols, shifts at the infirmary, and volunteering in the garden. You liked staying busy, throwing yourself into tasks that left no room for idle thoughts. When you had too much time to sit and think, things tended to spiral in directions you didn’t want to go.

Today, however, was different. Today, you had patrol with Joel.

You hadn’t seen him since that day—since you’d taken him home, drunk and barely coherent, muttering words you still couldn’t make sense of. The thought of seeing him again sent a knot of nerves twisting in your stomach, but you shoved it aside, focusing instead on the warmth of your coffee.

As you reached for your mug, a sharp pain shot through your ribs, making you wince. “Shit,” you hissed, setting the coffee down carefully as you leaned back in your chair.

Your last patrol had been rough. Your horse had gotten spooked, throwing you hard. You’d landed badly—right on a cluster of rocks—and though you hadn’t broken anything, the bruise it left behind was massive and tender, an angry bloom of purple and blue spreading along your side.

You’d managed to grit through the pain so far, but the thought of climbing back into the saddle today made you groan. Still, you didn’t have the luxury of skipping out.

As you pulled on your jacket, preparing to head to the stables, your thoughts spiraled despite your best efforts to keep them in check. How was this patrol going to go? Would Joel act like nothing had happened, like that day was just another moment lost to time?

Did he even remember?

He’d been so drunk—his words slurred, his movements unsteady. The thought crept into your mind, unwelcome but insistent: Did the words even hold any meaning?

Thinking about you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Joel didn’t say a word about it.

No gruff mumble of thanks, no apology for showing up drunk, no acknowledgment of how he’d shirked his duty to the town. And definitely no mention of the words that had slipped past his lips.

It was like it hadn’t happened at all, like he could erase it by simply pretending it didn’t exist.

And it pissed you off.

You rode beside him in tense silence, the sound of the horses’ hooves on the dirt trail doing little to muffle the frustration simmering inside you.

Your jaw clenched as you stole a glance at him. Joel sat tall in the saddle, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The same stoic, unreadable Joel Miller everyone knew. Except you knew there was more to him now.

Patrol today was about inspecting fences, gates, and other defensive measures—making sure everything was intact, that no one had slipped through, and that everything was still functioning properly. It was a longer ride than usual, covering the outermost sections of Jackson’s perimeter.

You were nearly at your destination, the familiar rustle of tall pines signaling you were close, when Joel stopped abruptly ahead of you.

A massive fallen tree sprawled across the trail, its thick trunk jagged where it had splintered violently from the base, likely brought down by the storm the other night. Moss and lichen clung to its weathered bark, their green hues muted in the morning light. The branches jutted out like twisted arms, tangled with smaller limbs and debris, forming an impenetrable barrier that made it impossible to navigate the horses around or through. The path ahead was completely blocked, forcing a decision neither of you seemed eager to make.

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath, his tone heavy with frustration.

“Gonna have to walk the rest,” he said, dismounting with practiced ease. He grabbed his pack and rifle, tying off his horse to a nearby sapling.

“Oh,” you replied, hopping off your own horse a little more awkwardly. Slinging your rifle over your shoulder, you followed him to the tree.

“Gotta let Tommy know when we’re back,” Joel murmured, tying his horse’s reins securely. “Gonna take a few men to clear this out.”

You didn’t respond, and it didn’t seem like he expected you to. His words were more to himself than to you, his focus already shifting to the obstacle ahead.

Joel braced his hands on the massive trunk and began to climb over it. The tree was enormous, its bark rough and weathered, with gnarled branches reaching out like crooked fingers. Joel groaned as he hauled himself up, using his strength to push over the top before dropping down on the other side with a thud.

You sighed, swinging your rifle securely across your back before stepping up to the tree. With years of survival behind you, your movements were fluid, second nature as you reached for a sturdy spot and began to climb.

But as you pulled your weight upward, an intense, searing pain shot through your side. The bruise on your ribs flared to life, sharp and unforgiving, and your hand instinctively flew to your side as your heart thundered in your chest.

“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth, your grip faltering for a moment as the pain threatened to overwhelm you. You froze, trying to steady your breathing, your fingers digging into the bark for support.

You didn’t realize how loud your hiss of pain had been until Joel’s voice came from the other side of the tree.

“What’s wrong?” he called, his tone sharp and wary.

“Nothing,” you lied quickly, clenching your teeth as the pain radiated through your side. You didn’t need to be the one slowing him down. Gritting through it, you ignored the sharp ache and focused on pulling yourself over the thick trunk.

By the time you landed on the other side, Joel had already turned his attention back to the path, unaware of the beads of sweat forming on your brow or the way your breath came faster from the effort.

He cast you a quick glance over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Let’s go,” he said simply, his voice gruff, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Without waiting for you to follow, he started walking, rifle in hand.

You adjusted your pack, swallowing down the simmering pain, and forced your feet to move.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The ride back to Jackson was steeped in a heavy, unspoken silence, the kind that didn’t beg to be filled. The fences were intact, the traps were set—everything had gone as planned. Still, the air felt colder now, the wind biting sharper than it had earlier, creeping under your layers and settling in your bones.

“We need to stop at the safe house first,” Joel said abruptly, his gruff voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Gotta check somethin’.”

You nodded without question, pulling your jacket tighter against the chill.

When you arrived, the safe house was exactly as expected: freezing. The kind of cold that wrapped itself around you, stubborn and unrelenting, no matter how many layers you wore. Joel immediately set to work, flipping through the logbook on the small wooden table, muttering under his breath about trap activity and needing to confirm the patrol routes.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stand the chill any longer. Moving into one of the smaller rooms, you rummaged through your bag, pulling out a long-sleeved thermal. You looked toward the door, making sure it was closed, then quickly stripped off your jacket and shirt, eager to get the thermal on.

The cold bit at your bare skin as you wrestled with the fabric, the thermal half over your head when the door opened.

“Let’s go—”

Joel’s voice stopped mid-sentence.

You froze, too stunned to yell, to move, to say anything.

Your thermal was still tangled in your hands, leaving you standing there in nothing but your bra and jeans, your cheeks burning hotter than they ever had in your life.

Joel stood in the doorway, equally frozen, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before his expression shifted into something unreadable. His gaze wasn’t leering or rude—it was searching, like he didn’t quite know where to look.

You quickly yanked the thermal down, the fabric catching on your shoulders as you fumbled to cover yourself, your voice trembling as you stammered, “Joel, what—”

But before you could finish, he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, each step heavier than the last. His boots creaked against the worn floorboards, the sound amplified in the stillness of the room. His face was unreadable—focused, intent—yet there was something unspoken in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite name but felt down to your core.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stopped just in front of you, close enough that the air between you felt heavy, charged with something you couldn’t define. His eyes met yours, and there was something in them—quiet, cautious—that felt like a question unspoken. His gaze lingered, searching, almost as though he was asking for permission without saying a word.

You nodded before you could think better of it, unsure of what, exactly, you were granting.

Joel’s hand moved deliberately, lifting the hem of your thermal with a slow, measured touch. His rough fingers brushed against the fabric, sending a shiver through you as he raised it just enough to reveal your side. His gaze dropped, locking onto the ugly bruise sprawled across your ribs—a mottled mess of deep purples and sickly yellows that seemed to stretch farther than you’d realized. His jaw tightened, the only crack in his otherwise steady demeanor.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face. It was calm, composed, betraying nothing, but his eyes told a different story. They lingered, studying the bruise with an intensity that spoke volumes, more than anything he could have said aloud.

“How?” he asked finally, his voice low, almost gravelly.

“What?” you breathed, caught off guard.

“What happened?” he repeated, his eyes flicking back up to yours.

“Oh.” You swallowed, feeling oddly self-conscious under his gaze. “Winnie—my horse—she got startled last week during patrol. Threw me, and I landed… funny.”

“Landed funny?” His voice dipped with skepticism, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“On some rocks,” you admitted with a sigh.

Joel grimaced, his jaw working like he was trying to hold back a comment. “Christ,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

He paused, his gaze lingering on the bruise. Then, almost hesitantly, his free hand lifted, his fingers hovering just above your skin, as though he was unsure if he should touch, unsure if he even had the right.

You didn’t know why you didn’t stop him. Maybe it was the way he looked—like he was waiting for you to push him away. Or maybe it was the way his hand trembled, the calloused tips of his fingers brushing so lightly against the bruise you barely felt it at first.

The touch sent a jolt through you, the tenderness of the bruise flaring to life. You hissed in pain, your breath catching, and his hand stilled immediately.

His eyes snapped to yours, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hurts that bad?”

You nodded slightly, still trying to recover from the sting.

Joel’s hand fell away slowly, He dropped the hem of your thermal back into place, stepping back just enough to give you space, though his eyes lingered on yours.

“I asked you what was wrong,” Joel said, his voice low and gruff, the weight of his words settling between you. “Back near the tree.”

Where was he going with this? You searched his face, but his expression was as unreadable as ever, giving nothing away. His tone held no accusation, but it carried something heavier, something that made your stomach twist in anticipation.

You glanced at him briefly, your fingers tightening on the hem of your shirt. “What was I meant to say?” you mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze.

“You were meant to say you were hurt,” he replied, his tone clipped, but there was no mistaking the edge of frustration underneath. “I’d’ve checked the fences myself. Made you stay back with the horses.”

You blinked, startled by the bluntness of his words. “I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

What was this conversation even about? Was he mad at you for not saying something, or was there something else beneath his frustration?

Joel’s jaw tightened, the muscle working as he glanced at you briefly before looking away, his gaze flicking to the floor like he was wrestling with something he didn’t want to admit. “A busted rib ain’t nothin’,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, tinged with an edge that made your chest tighten. “Could’ve made it worse, climbin’ over that damn tree like that.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, the sting of his words landing more like a rebuke than outright anger. Still, beneath the roughness, there was something protective you couldn’t ignore. “I didn’t want to slow you down,” you offered quietly, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal.

Joel shook his head, his hands settling firmly on his hips. “Slowing me down’s better than you makin’ it worse for yourself,” he said, his voice gruff and unyielding. “You don’t get to make that call—not when we’re out there.”

You swallowed hard, the truth of his words hitting you. He wasn’t wrong. Out here, injuries like yours could mean the difference between survival and something far worse. Infected, raiders—they didn’t hesitate to pounce on weakness. If you couldn’t even climb a tree without wincing in pain, you were a liability.

You nodded, unsure of what else to say, your chest tightening under the weight of his words. Joel watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable before he turned on his heel, heading for the door.

But just before stepping out, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes locked on yours, his voice firm but quieter now. “Next time,” he said, “you tell me.”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You sat in the dining hall with Maria a week later, your bruise mostly healed, the pain now reduced to a dull ache rather than the sharp, constant reminder it had been. You hadn’t been on patrol with Joel since, and in a way, the break felt like a relief. It was good to have him out of your system for a bit. Being around him always left you on edge—unsure of what to say, how to act, or where you stood with him.

Patrol that day had been uneventful—a routine perimeter check with Maria that passed without incident. Now, the two of you sat at one of the long tables, eating dinner and chatting about what she was planning for Tommy’s upcoming birthday.

The sound of heavy, quick footsteps approaching your table pulled you out of the conversation.

“Hey, lady,” a sharp voice snapped, cutting through the comfortable hum of the dining hall. You turned, startled, to see Sam striding toward you, his scowl as deep as the lines etched into his face. His tone alone told you this wasn’t going to end well.

Sam was older, somewhere in his 60s, with an ego as inflated as his temper was short. He had a reputation for his mean streak, the kind of man who took any chance to assert himself, especially if he felt someone had stepped out of line. His presence was enough to sour the air around him, and as he closed the distance between you, your stomach tightened with unease.

“You forget something out there today?” he barked, his words cutting through the air like a whip. His tone was sharp enough to draw the attention of nearby tables, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he loomed over you, his shadow stretching across your seated form.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his accusation, but the knot in your stomach tightened as the realization hit. You knew exactly what he was talking about.

You’d forgotten.

How had you forgotten?

Sam didn’t wait for you to respond, his voice rising with frustration as he continued, “The tripwire,” he snapped, his tone biting. “That whole section was wide open—anyone or anything could’ve gotten through. Do you even realize how dangerous that is? Someone could’ve walked right into a death trap because of your mistake!”

“Shit,” you murmured, the heat rising to your face under the weight of his words. The knot in your stomach tightened further as you noticed heads turning, the din of conversation around you softening as people began to take notice of the exchange. “I—I’m so sorry. I totally spaced,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, though the words felt painfully loud in the hushed room.

“Totally spaced,” Sam repeated, his tone dripping with mockery, each word laced with cruel precision. “That doesn’t mean shit if someone gets torn apart because you couldn’t focus long enough to do your damn job.”

You flinched, the sting of his words sharper than you’d anticipated. Shame burned your cheeks, and your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain that it was an honest mistake, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong.

Sam took another step closer, his presence looming. His voice dropped lower, quieter, but far more venomous. “You don’t get to play all cute and make stupid mistakes like that. People die out there for less.”

“Enough.”

The single word cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and commanding.

Joel stood at the edge of the dining hall, his dark eyes locked on Sam, his expression hard as stone. The tension in the room was palpable, conversations dying out as his boots echoed against the wooden floor. You couldn’t breathe, your chest tight as his presence filled the space.

Even Sam, as hot-headed and arrogant as he was, seemed to hesitate. But with the eyes of the room on him, his ego wouldn’t let him back down so easily.

“Seriously, Joel?” Sam said, his tone sharp, almost desperate. “She messed up. Big time.”

“No, she didn’t,” Joel said, his voice low and steady, his eyes fixed on Sam with unwavering intensity.

You blinked, your stomach twisting in confusion. What was he doing?

“The hell are you talking about?” Sam shot back, his frustration mounting.

Joel didn’t flinch, didn’t break his stare. “I didn’t reset the tripwire,” he said, his voice calm, measured, like he was stating an undeniable fact. “It was my fault.”

Your heart stuttered, disbelief and shock crashing over you. What was he doing? This wasn’t his fault—it was yours.

“No,” Sam snapped, his voice rising. “It was her shiftl. Her name’s written right next to the task.”

Joel didn’t falter, his tone unyielding as he replied. “And I was with her this morning on patrol.”

Oh my god, you thought, realization hitting you like a freight train. Joel was lying. He was standing there, in front of the entire room, lying for you.

Your gaze darted to Maria, sitting beside you, her brows furrowed in confusion. She’d been the one on patrol with you today—she knew the truth—but she stayed quiet, her expression unreadable.

“I told her not to worry about it,” Joel continued, his tone steady, unyielding. “Said I’d reset the wire myself. And I didn’t.”

Sam huffed, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface as his gaze darted around the room, searching for someone—anyone—to back him up. But no one moved. Joel stood there, a silent force, his presence like a wall that refused to crack.

Finally, Sam shook his head, muttering curses under his breath as he turned on his heel to leave. The tension in the room began to ease, but just as he reached the doors, Joel’s voice rang out again, firm and unrelenting.

“I think you owe the lady an apology.”

Sam froze mid-step, his back stiffening as if Joel’s words had physically struck him. Slowly, he turned, his face a mix of confusion and indignation. “I… what?”

“An apology,” Joel repeated, his dark eyes locked on Sam like a predator sizing up its prey. “For how you acted toward her.”

“Joel,” you murmured, your voice hushed, insistent. “It’s fine.”

“S’not fine,” Joel murmured back, low and sharp, though he didn’t look at you.

Sam’s eyes flicked around the room, his cheeks flushing red as he realized everyone was still watching. This time, it was him who was marked by embarrassment, his ego shrinking under the weight of Joel’s stare.

“I’m… sorry,” Sam muttered through gritted teeth, the words forced and begrudging as they left his mouth.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out of the hall, his footsteps hurried and heavy, slamming the door behind him.

The room slowly came back to life, conversations picking up in soft murmurs, the tension dissipating like smoke. But you barely noticed. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, your thoughts a chaotic swirl as Joel turned toward you.

His dark eyes met yours for the briefest moment, and the words sat heavy on the edge of your tongue. Thank you, you wanted to say. But before you could muster the courage, Joel looked away, turning and walking out of the hall, his stride steady and resolute.

You sat frozen in place, staring after him, a storm of emotions swirling in your chest—gratitude, confusion, and something far more complicated that you couldn’t name.

Maria leaned in, her voice low enough for only you to hear. “What the hell was that about?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes still fixed on the door Joel had disappeared through. “I don’t know,” you admitted softly.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

A few weeks later, it was Tommy’s birthday, and the celebration started at the Tipsy Bison. The bar was packed with people, its usual lively atmosphere amplified by the occasion. Maria and Tommy, practically the heartbeat of Jackson, had brought the whole town together for drinks, food, and laughter. It was loud and chaotic, but warm in the way only the Bison could be, the hum of voices and clinking glasses echoing against the wood-paneled walls.

You’d found a spot at one of the corner booths, a glass of something strong in your hand as you watched Tommy light up the room, cracking jokes and throwing back shots with anyone who approached. Maria had her arms crossed, a fond but exasperated smile on her face as she half-heartedly tried to reel him in.

Everyone gathered for a rowdy rendition of Happy Birthday, the entire bar raising their voices in a cheer as Tommy grinned like a kid, soaking in the attention. It was just as the song ended, the room buzzing with applause, that you spotted Joel near the bar.

He was nursing a whiskey, his posture stiff as usual, sticking to the edges of the crowd. He raised his glass slightly in Tommy’s direction, his version of a birthday toast, before turning back to face the bar, avoiding the attention entirely.

By the time the night at the Bison wound down, only a small group of you followed Tommy and Maria back to their house, the late hour thinning the crowd to a close circle of friends. Inside, the living room became a cozy chaos, with empty bottles scattered around the floor and blankets pulled over laps to chase away the winter chill.

You sat cross-legged on the rug, Maria beside you, both of you giggling over something Tommy had said earlier. Across the room, Joel sat slouched on the couch, his legs spread wide, one arm draped casually along the backrest while the other cradled a bottle. His gaze swept over the group, his expression unreadable but tinged with vague resignation, as if he were questioning every decision that had led to him staying this late.

Your eyes met his across the room, and for a moment, neither of you looked away. The noise around you faded into the background, the laughter and chatter dimming as his gaze held yours. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, something that made your breath catch, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“All right,” Tommy said suddenly, clapping his hands together as he leaned forward in his seat. “It’s my birthday, so I get to make the rules tonight.”

“Oh god,” Maria groaned, already anticipating his next words.

Tommy grinned mischievously, grabbing an empty bottle from the coffee table. “Drumroll, please,” he announced, slapping the sides of the table for effect. “My birthday wish is… spin the bottle!”

Laughter erupted from the group, and you couldn’t help but grin as Maria buried her face in her hands. “Are you serious?” she said, peeking at Tommy through her fingers. “What are we, teenagers?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Tommy shot back, his grin boyish and unrepentant. Before anyone could protest further, he leaned toward Maria, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And since I’m the birthday boy, I choose you,” he declared, pulling her in for a kiss.

Maria barely had time to roll her eyes and murmur, “That’s not how the game works,” before her words were drowned by his mouth meeting hers. The room erupted in laughter and cheers, and even Maria couldn’t keep a straight face as she pushed him back, swatting playfully at his chest.

Joel, still sitting on the couch, looked more uncomfortable by the second, his jaw tight as his gaze shifted restlessly between the group and the door. He looked ready to bolt at any moment, his shoulders tense like a coiled spring. Yet for now, he stayed, though his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, only to dart away just as quickly whenever you caught him.

You were definitely tipsy at this stage, and maybe that was why the game didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. The laughter, the teasing, the warm buzz in the air—it all felt harmless, fun even. And maybe, just maybe, it offered a chance to kiss someone you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, without the weight of meaning or consequence hanging over it. Just a game. Nothing more.

“Who’s next?” Tommy called out, his grin wide as he looked around the room. His finger landed on you. “You,” he said, pointing, his voice filled with exaggerated glee.

You giggled, a little embarrassed but not willing to back down. “Okay, okay,” you said, reaching for the bottle. The smooth glass was cool in your hands as you leaned forward and gave it a spin.

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest as the bottle wobbled and turned, everyone’s eyes locked on it like it was some sacred oracle about to reveal a life-altering truth. The room seemed to hold its breath as the bottle slowed, the momentum fading until it stopped unmistakably on—

“Joel?”

The name slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, disbelief and something you couldn’t name twisting in your gut.

He was sitting on the couch, alone, and the bottle had most definitely landed on him. His face froze, like he hadn’t quite processed what had just happened. His eyes widened slightly—a flicker of surprise breaking through his usual guarded demeanor—before his jaw tightened, the muscle in his cheek flexing with restrained tension.

The room erupted into cheers and whistles, the noise sharp and unrelenting. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the sheer mortification of the situation that sent a flush creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. Yet, despite the embarrassment, there was no one in this room you’d rather kiss. No one else you’d secretly hoped the bottle would land on.

“Well?” Tommy said, clapping his hands together like a ringleader at the circus. “Rules are rules!”

Maria groaned beside you, muttering something about her husband being ridiculous, but the rest of the group was too entertained to care.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing as you looked at Joel, unsure if he was going to get up and walk right out the door. For a moment, it felt like time had slowed to a crawl, the noise of the room fading into a distant hum as your gaze locked with his.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your legs carried you across the room, your heart thudding in your chest with every step. Joel’s eyes followed you, wide and searching, half-dazed as if he wasn’t sure if this was really happening. His breath quickened, his fingers tightening around the neck of his beer, knuckles turning white as his grip shifted against the glass.

Standing in front of him now, you hesitated for the briefest moment, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. Then, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins and the storm of emotions you’d been harboring for him—emotions you could no longer ignore—you slid onto his lap.

The room erupted, someone whooping loudly, but the noise barely registered over the pounding of your own heart. Joel’s hands hovered awkwardly near your waist, uncertain, as though he didn’t know where they belonged. Your own hands found his shoulders, steadying yourself as his dark eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes, the tension in his gaze crackling like a live wire.

You leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing, drawn by the way his gaze softened, how it lingered on you like he was seeing you in a way you’d never dared imagine. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, the movement small but telling, his breathing shallow and uneven as you hovered just a whisper away from him.

“Y’all gonna kiss, or just oogle at each other?” Tommy quipped, leaning back with a grin as the room filled with laughter.

But you barely registered the comment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned forward, your lips hovering over his, your breath mingling in the tense space between you—

And then suddenly, you were being pushed back, the startling movement breaking the spell.

You blinked, confused, as you landed against the couch, Joel already standing, his chest heaving. His face was unreadable, his jaw tight and his eyes hard as they darted away from you.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, his voice sharp with frustration. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door, leaving the room in stunned silence.

You sat frozen, your heart pounding in your chest as the sting of his rejection settled deep.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Tommy said, his voice softer now, though uncertainty laced his tone. He shrugged, offering a faint, apologetic smile. “You know how Joel is.” Then, without missing a beat, he looked around the room, clapping his hands once. “Alright, who’s next?” he called out.

The room buzzed with forced laughter as they moved on, but you couldn’t shake the lump in your throat. Before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, leaving your coat behind as you pushed open the door and followed him out into the snow.

The cold hit you instantly, biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. The lamps lining the street cast a soft glow against the falling snow, illuminating Joel’s retreating figure as he moved briskly down the path.

“Joel!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He stopped but didn’t turn, his shoulders stiff, before he started walking again.

“Joel, stop!” you yelled, running after him, your breath visible in the icy air. You caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to face you.

“What?” he spat, his voice sharp, but his eyes—his eyes darted everywhere but at you, like looking at you might break him.

“Am I…” you started, your voice trembling, your vision blurring with a mix of alcohol and something far more potent. “Am I really that revolting to you? That you couldn’t even kiss me?”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line as his eyes continued to evade yours.

“You can’t even look at me!” you exclaimed, the pain in your chest twisting sharper. “Seriously?”

He murmured your name, low and warning, but it only made your anger flare.

“You couldn’t have just kissed me for the game?” you said, your voice trembling, a crack breaking through as you tried to hold steady. “You really just wanted to humiliate me? In front of everyone like that?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, but the sting of his rejection still burned, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. You searched his face, looking for an answer, for something, but his expression remained closed off, his jaw tight and his eyes flickering away.

“It’s not like that,” he murmured, his voice rough but quieter now.

“Then what is it?” you demanded, tears threatening to spill. “Why wouldn’t you kiss me?”

Joel’s eyes finally flicked to yours, his expression conflicted, his voice breaking when he answered. “I wasn’t gonna kiss you.”

Your breath caught, the words hitting like a punch to the gut. You blinked, the tears burning hotter now. “Why?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Why won’t you just kiss me?”

“Jesus,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face, his frustration bubbling over in a way he couldn’t contain. “I’m not gonna kiss you—not like this!” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice raising, not in anger, but in exasperation, as though he was trying to make sense of something even he didn’t fully understand.

The world seemed to stop, his words hanging heavy in the cold air between you, each one echoing louder in your mind. Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his admission sinking into you with more force than anything else he could’ve said.

“Not like this?” you repeated softly, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your own pounding heart.

Joel’s eyes met yours then, and for the first time, you saw it—something vulnerable flickering in the depths of his gaze. Something raw and unguarded, something he couldn’t take back. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his jaw tightened, the struggle evident in every inch of him as he fought to find words he wasn’t ready to say.

“Not like this,” he repeated, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper.

Then he turned and walked away, his boots crunching against the snow with every step, leaving you standing there in the freezing night.

Your heart hammered in your chest, his words looping endlessly in your mind, settling deep into the corners of your soul where you knew they’d linger.

૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

Tag List: @bbyanarchist @kanyewestest @locked-ness @bambisweethearts @pedritospunk @ickearmn

[believeripley]

Just Tommy Miller enjoying watching his nieces give his brother shit.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Revisiting this stunner because it makes me FEEL.

Jules, holy shit, this painting is ALIVE. The look in his eyes, the set of his mouth, the shine and movement in his glossy beautiful hair, the texture of his shirt…gosh. Just… speechless.

[tomshiddles]

the reunion of the Miller brothers

[tlou-obsessed]

Siblings actually feeling like siblings is my absolute favourite thing in shows:

siblings sharing one braincell:

The same crooked smile:

And in the first 10 minutes or so you already know the dynamic between these two, Joel knows Tommy will tease him endlessly about the t-shirt being inside out, being an older sibling, when making a mistake I look at my younger siblings first because I just know they are gonna be insufferable about it. But Tommy respects the hell out of Joel, he immidiately puts out the cigarette when told so, this is responsible older brother Joel, who will bail him out of jail...

He's also the person he looks to, to make the decisions que 'What are we doin', Joel':

also the fact that they got two guys with patchy beards is dedication to me, they wanted these two to be genetically brothers:

These two walking in sync never fails to get me, they are walking the exact same way:

Also haven't seen each other in quite a while and doesn't miss the chance to tease little brother:

all I have to say is Gabriel and Pedro were dedicated to show us they were brothers and I love them for that.