#tommy miller x f!reader
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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tommy miller
genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak
word count: 2.7k
summary: joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.
warnings: gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie
a/n: this work was commissioned through kofi by the lovely @losergurlsstuff, thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️🔥
**gif made by the amazing @pedgito thank you so much dear!! dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜
Everything has been amazing since you and Joel started dating. To you, he was perfect. The perfect man. The perfect partner. The perfect person. You are forever grateful to whatever god made your roads cross. You have no idea what you’d be doing without him. You’ve never felt so cared for in your entire life. What he doesn’t say with words he shows with what he does and today is no exception.
“What do you want for your birthday?”
You smile and shake your head, his head is laying right above your stomach, his one hand under your shirt, caressing the warm skin. “I have everything I need.”
“Just tell me.”
“I really don’t want anything, Joel. Especially not from you.”
His hand on your skin stills, looking up, you giggle at the way he’s frowning. Shocked.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you dork,” you lean and brush your lips against his forehead. “That you already give me everything. Being with you is enough.”
Joel’s eyes narrow. A pleasurable shudder rolls through your spine, you adore it when he looks at you like that. It reminds you of all the times you pushed his buttons, resulting in a delightful time.
“I have an idea what you might want.”
“And what’s that mister know-it-all?”
“Tommy.”
“W—What?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, your palms suddenly cold and sweaty. His younger brother’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. Joel spreads his fingers across your waist, gently, he squeezes.
“It’s a’right, sweetheart. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot and well, I think it might be a good gift for your birthday.”
“I don’t understand.”
You genuinely don’t. Also, he’s been thinking about it? The inside of your stomach feels like lead. It’s true that once upon a time you thought how it would be with Tommy—but that was before Joel. And after you two started dating well. . . sure maybe your eyes did linger a bit, maybe you leaned a little too close when he whispered something in your ear during a party. . . You genuinely thought Joel wouldn’t notice.
“I haven’t asked him yet,” he says, thoughtful. “But I was thinkin’ of indulgin’ your curiosities.”
You‘re still not quite sure what he means by that. Your guilt gnaws at the walls of your stomach. Joel gives you everything, yet you make him feel like he doesn’t. Your eyes move away, falling to the corner of the wall. You can’t bear to look at him. He deserves better.
“Hey,” he says, hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You look like you’re about to,” he cracks a small smile. “I don’t mind, darlin’. It’s just a fantasy ain’t it? I know that you’re mine.”
“I am,” you say tearfully. “I am and always will be.”
“And I’m yours. I just want to spoil you as best as I can, sweetheart. And this seemed doable.”
“Why do you even think Tommy would agree to this?”
“Oh he will,” he says with a grin that makes your cheeks grow warm. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.”
You nod but doubt still taints your expression. You don’t doubt Joel’s words, but no one can deny that this might be a bit odd. You’re not entirely sure Tommy will be on board. But you trust Joel, so you don’t question it.
Despite all the doubt, and tension in your muscles, excitement slowly brews deep within you.
“Joel, I’m not so sure about this.”
His head turns harshly to face his brother. There’s no way he’s backing out now, not when they were only inches away from the fucking bedroom door.
Then again, he does understand. He’s ain’t stupid. But Joel had seen the way Tommy looked at you, the way his eyes would do a subtle sweep and linger on your ass whenever you walked out of a room. “I ain’t gonna suddenly choke you out if that’s what got your feathers ruffled.”
Tommy shifts from one foot to the other. Joel’s not used to seeing his brother so deep in though. He fears that if he thinks a little harder he might break his brain. With a huff of breath escaping his lips, Joel throws a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing his attention.
“Look, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her, if at any point you decide you don’t wanna do this, just say so and we’ll stop. No one is gonna get offended.”
Tommy visibly relaxes at Joel’s words. He nods, lips a tight line. It reminds Joel when he taught him how to ride a bike when they were kids. He had the same expression.
“A’right then, now that that’s settled, let’s not keep her waitin’ anymore.”
Without warning he opens the door and pushes Tommy in. If it was any other situation Joel would’ve laughed at the way Tommy tripped over his own feet. But his attention is immediately dragged to the bed you’re perched on. His mouth waters. He knew you were going to get dressed, well undressed in this situation, but he hadn’t thought about what you would put on. Joel’s eyes briefly flicker to Tommy, he seems just as in shock. It’s hard not to be with what you’re wearing.
The fabric is a luxurious, deep blue, reminiscent of the darkest hours when the stars come out to play. The material is silky and smooth against the skin, offering a touch of elegance and comfort. And he would know. It’s his favorite damn set. Shimmering sparkles that adorn the fabric, mimic the stars scattered across the night sky. These sparkles catch the light of the scented candle you’ve lit, creating a subtle and enchanting glow.
Joel gradually meets your gaze. As soon as he does he knows you’ve done it on purpose. His lips quirk up, amusement growing in his eyes, you’d pay for this little stunt.
“Wow,” Tommy exhales and takes a step forward. “You look amazin’ sweetheart.”
You seem a little out of breath already, it’s going to be fun to watch you crumble. Though Joel isn’t quite sure how he feels about his brother being the one doing it.
“Thanks,” you answer, unsure.
There’s a lingering tension in the air and Joel almost rolls his eyes at them both. Almost.
“A’right then,” he pushes Tommy until he’s at the edge of the bed and takes a seat on the chair he brought in this morning. “Stop bein’ shy now. Tommy, you’re her gift, are you sure you want to be the person responsible for her havin’ a shit birthday?”
Tommy’s chest raises, “N-No.”
“Then what are you waitin’ for?”
“Jesus Joel, it’s not like I'm bringin’ her a new plant, give us a second.”
Joel grins at the way he snaps and Tommy only shakes his head, turning to you and finally focusing on the right thing. You.
Tommy tenderly presses both palms on each side of your face, thumbs moving in circles. Your nipples are already hard, he can see them like little diamonds showing up through the fabric. His fingers twitch. Patience isn’t something that he has, but he’ll try. For you.
Your lips part with a soft gasp as Tommy finally brings you in, their lips brushing before full-on pressing against one another. Joel doesn’t miss the way your chest heaves. Your hands fist his shirt and Tommy tilts his head in response, Joel hears your little moans, his own cock gradually hardening under his jeans.
Fuck, you look too good in that lingerie set. It’s hard just to sit and watch.
“Take off his shirt,” Joel grunts, sounding more cross than he intended. You nod, but not without giving him a wary look first. When Tommy’s shirt hits the floor, the younger Miller roughly grabs your chin and turns your head so you’re facing Joel. His spine straightens.
“You ain’t the one given’ orders,” Tommy says. “If you want me to make her feel good, you’re goin’ to shut up and watch, understood?”
Joel’s mouth goes dry but he nods anyway. His eyes narrow as Tommy’s smile grows, his hand slips between your legs and begins to stroke you through your panties. Joel’s breath hitches, his gaze landing where you grow wetter and wetter.
“Who’s in charge baby, tell him.”
Your hips grind down to his hand, “You are.”
“Well that wasn’t much of a challenge,” he chuckles, eyes finding Joel’s again. “Don’t you think you’re bad girl sayin’ that in front of your daddy?”
Heat rushes to Joel’s cheeks, crimson spreading from his chest to his face. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to know that. A tingle he hasn’t felt before spreads from the base of his spine. His jealousy is starting to brew, but at the same time, it feels oddly nice to be helpless, even though he knows he isn’t.
“Answer my question,” Tommy commands, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Are you a bad girl?”
“Y–Yes.”
Your eyes roll when Tommy presses your clit, drawing rough circles, he smiles. “Tell your boyfriend who’s your daddy now?”
Joel holds his breath. Beads of sweat coating his back. “You are,” he hears you say to Tommy. There’s a slight quiver to your bottom lip and every part of him wants to soothe you.
But instead, his brother does.
Tommy sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and kisses your deeply, his hands caressing the contour of your body.
“Don’t worry,” Tommy says. “Daddy is goin’ to take care of you.”
You’re about to lose your mind. Your body is a flame and with each devastating snap of Tommy’s hips, your mouth drops open with a guttural moan. You’ve always assumed he’d be a gentle lover. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that Joel’s presence might be a solid reason why he’s tearing you and building you up over and over again.
He positioned you so you’re staring at nothing else but Joel, you see how hard he is under his pants, the outline of his cock visible and making you gush all over Tommy’s cock. You want him in your mouth so bad but you know this isn’t that kind of game. Joel’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, your bra ripped from you a while ago. You were completely naked except for your panties—Joel’s favorite and now Tommy is fucking you in it.
Tommy reaches forward and grabs your throat, pulling you up so more of your chest is exposed. His cock is bigger than you imagined, nearly big as Joel. He pounds into you mercilessly, his length stretching you every day, reminding you whose cock is tearing you apart.
“Does it turn you on that he’s watchin’ how wet you’re gettin’ my dick sweetheart?” With his question another fresh wave of slick drips out of you, tears build in your eyes, your insides left throbbing. His hips stutter, going balls deep, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck. Joel, she’s soaked— does she ever get this wet for you?”
“‘Course she does,” he grunts, crossing his arms. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but the fact that Tommy doesn't have a broken nose already must be a good sign.
Tommy leans into your ear, loud enough for Joel to hear. “Bet the old man can’t fuck you as well as I do.”
You don’t answer. You can’t. Both of them are so good at this, and your head is in shambles.
Tommy suddenly stops, and you’re a brink away from breaking down. A whine tears away from your lips. He releases your neck, you fall forward, only upright thanks to his hands holding your arms. “Answer me.”
“You’re making me feel so good,” you say instead and thankfully, he doesn’t try to gauge a different response. His cock pulses, making you believe that was all he wanted to hear. Joel observes the two of you carefully.
“Say it again baby, tell him how well daddy’s taking care of you.”
“Daddy’s taking care of me,” you slur as his pace begins to pick up again. Each thrust makes you squeeze his cock like a vice. Liquid heat drops down your spine, your stomach clenching as he edges you closer and closer to your downfall. “J–Joel,” you call out without much thought and his dark gaze meets your own. “He feels so good.”
“Oh fuck—” Tommy chokes and swiftly pulls out, prompting you to let out a disappointed whine. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna— fuck— bring your face here—”
The back of Tommy’s head falls against the headboard and you quickly hurry towards him, your glistening cunt now in perfect view. You hear Joel taking in a sharp exhale. You part your lips, dipping down to take Tommy into your mouth but he stops it, holding you by the nape. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” he groans, forcing you down so your cheek would be pressed right below his pelvis. He starts stroking himself, fucking into his fist, and the sight is so beautiful that you lick one of his balls into your mouth, his back arches.
Suddenly, he grips you even tighter and starts moaning loudly in harsh gasps, his hips thrusting uncontrollably against your face. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of you. You can feel him pulsing against your skin. You moan in response, feeling the rush of excitement as you open your mouth wider to take it all in.
“Tommy, please,” you breathe out, your eyes locked with his as he releases a stream on your face, covering your cheeks and lips with his release. You can feel yourself growing even more aroused as he continues to stroke himself, coating your face with his warm come. You whimper, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as he lets out a final raspy breath.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stares at you, your face damp and covered in his release. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You can feel your cheeks heating up, the intimate moment causing your heart to race in your chest. Tommy reaches out, gently wiping some of the come off of your face with his thumb before bringing it to your lips, letting you taste yourself.
“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, his breaths coming out in short pants. He pulls you up to him, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce kiss. However, while you’re lost in his mouth, you don’t realize the bed dipping with an added weight. You hear a clink of a belt and suddenly Joel is buried deep between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. You gasp against Tommy’s mouth, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.
“You didn’t make her come, idiot,” he groans, fucking himself into your deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll, your lips parting an inch away from Tommy’s face. Joel sinks his teeth into your neck, hips rutting into you without leaving you. His other hand playing with the elastic of your panties, you break down around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “Mine,” he growls, acting as if the two of you are alone. “Mine, mine, mine—”
Joel spills into you with a deep and visceral groan. There’s so much, his cock twitching and pulsing as he forces himself even deeper, claiming you as his. Doing something Tommy isn’t allowed to do. You shiver all over, your body weak with pleasure.
He trickles down the inside of your thighs as he pulls out, falling back to his knees. You collapse onto Tommy’s chest and you’re surprised when you feel his hand on your neck, rubbing soothingly over your warm skin.
Joel leaves a trail of kisses down your spine, “You were amazin’, honey.”
“Such a good girl,” Tommy murmurs, though both of their voices feel as if it’s coming from a distance. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion taking hold of you. “Let’s get her cleaned up and tuck her in.”
Joel presses his mouth against you one last time before heading to the bathroom.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x f!reader#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x fem!reader#tommy miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#tommy miller smut#joel miller x reader x tommy miller#hbo the last us fanfic#tlou fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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idiots in love • slow burn but they’re fucking the entire time • the angst • filthy smut • sickening cuteness • menace of a reader • Tommy • lots of sarcasm • trauma • no outbreak • heartbreak • realizing you do deserve love and happiness
1 You wanted this
2 Wet
3 Don’t ruin the sofa
4 What you need
5 Trouble
6 No broken hearts
7 Sunshine
8 Sink or swim
9 coming soon
prequel: we shouldn’t
Joel masterlist • main masterlist • AO3
Thank you all so much for loving this series! Your support, kind words, and enthusiasm mean the world to me! I love you 🤍
#series: you wanted this#fwb!joel miller x f!reader#fwb!joel miller#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller au#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller tlou#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x you#tommy miller
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Baby Love | Joel Miller
A Trial & Error One Shot
Summary | It's coming to the end of lambing season, but there's one sheep left to give birth. Noticing she's struggling, you spend the night trying to soothe her, reflecting on your own experiences in her position.
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 2.7k
Warnings | Joel & Pretty Girl are still as horny as ever for each other so this is explicit. Mentions of ranching, sheep and animals giving birth. Mentions of human childbirth and pregnancy (I have never had my own children so please go easy on me), also mentions of how dirty it is when a sheep gives birth (blood/guts ect). Explicit smut including oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV smut IN THE BARN, creampie, Joel being a menace, PRETTY GIRL ALSO BEING A MENACE. No use of Y/N, no-outbreak AU.
Authors Note | It has been such a joy to write Pretty Girl again, I've missed her something terrible, and I'm so happy that the dynamic between her and Joel is still going strong, even if I have abandoned them for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and if there are any aspects of this families lives that you'd like to see, feel free to request it in my ask box!
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Lambing season is coming to an end - something you’re eternally grateful for. It’s been a busy few weeks - early mornings and late nights for both Joel and Tommy, leaving you with the twins, Joshua and Ellie to keep entertained. Not that you’d have it any other way - your dysfunctional little family makes you happy every day.
With Joshua at school and the twins with Joel as he took Ellie into town for an appointment, you’re out in the fields with Tommy, making sure the remaining sheep yet to give birth are doing alright. You don’t profess to being an expert, but you’d like to think that your motherly instincts can go beyond humans, knowing when certain sheep are due and when some of them are starting to struggle.
It’s been an easy lambing season this year - most of the girls are seasoned professionals by now, needing only a light touch and a refill of their water more than anything, but there’s one sheep you are worried about. She was from lambing season a few years ago and this will be her first time. When you head into the barn, she’s stood in the corner of one of the pens, moving very little but bleating every once in a while. You know it’ll happen soon, but you’re worried about her.
“Don’t worry your head, sugar,” Tommy soothes, running a hand down the back of your head when it’s time to leave, “It’s nature, she’ll know what to do.”
But, led in bed that night, there’s something that you can’t push from the back of your mind. This worry that takes over you. She’ll be on her own in there, being one of the very last to give birth, and what if she’s scared? What if something goes wrong? You remember how scared you’d been when it came to having Joshua.
So you sigh, push back the sheets, and get dressed. You leave Tommy a note in case he wakes in the night and worries about where you are. You can’t say the horses in the small stable next to the house are enthused about having a torched shined at them in the middle of the night, but thankfully yours doesn’t put up much fuss when you saddle it and make the journey through the dark fields to the barn.
Flicking on the lights, you’re immediately glad you came. The sheep in question is led on her side, breathing laboured and fast. As you walk towards her, she kicks her legs a little and lets out a pained bleat.
“I know baby,” You coo, making sure the gate is shut behind you, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
You fall to your knees in the soft hay a little way from her, hoping not to spook her, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence. She’s led down near the wall, so you crawl over a little and lean your back against it, stretching your legs out, just to be near her if she needs you.
The sheep lets out another pained bleat but she moves a little, up from her side and onto her feet. She walks closer to you, leaning down to prod your hand with her nose. You let out a little chuckle, letting your hand run down her head. The ranch dog likes when you scratch behind his ears, so you do the same here, which has her settling back down onto her side with her head on your thigh.
“It’s one of the most wonderful things,” You speak to her softly, continuing to pet at her head, “Having babies, but they always forget to mention how much it fucking hurts.”
She lets out another soft bleat, moving her body a little to get comfortable, or as comfortable as is possible when you’re in labour.
Watching her, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your experience in her position. The first twinges of pain, low in your back that turned into pain everywhere. There wasn't a single position that was comfortable, no way to sit or lie or stand that could take the pain away. Then there was the exhaustion - after hours of waiting and more time pushing and pushing, there were moments when you didn’t think you could do it anymore, that you’d just close your eyes, drift off and wake up with a lovely, healthy baby perched in your arms.
But then, there’s that moment of relief, when the midwife had told you it’s okay honey, one more push and it’ll be done and it was and you could hear him crying and then he was on your chest and you were crying and so was Tommy. No-one ever mentions that bit either - how within seconds you could look down at a baby, your baby, and be completely and utterly in love with him. That’s what made it all worth it. That’s what made you want to do it again. It’s what makes you think you’d do it for the rest of your life if you could, just to have that one moment where that baby is in your arms for the first time.
“It’s worth it though,” You speak down to the sheep, “All this pain will be worth it in the end when we’ve got your beautiful little lamb with us.”
And it is. It’s all a bit dramatic in the end. The lamb gets stuck and you need to offer a helping hand to get it out, but almost immediately the mother sheep is doing exactly what she should, cleaning it off as you do the thing you’ve seen Joel do to help clear it’s airways, sticking a little bit of hay up one of it’s nostrils.
“Look mama,” You coo at the older sheep, a hand on her head as she works to get her little lamb clean, “Look what you did, you clever girl.”
Joel doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the barn that morning, but it certainly wasn’t to see you on your knees in the hay, rubbing a newborn lamb with straw. He can see from this angle that your clothes are filthy, covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you…? Have you….?
“Pretty girl,” He speaks softly, not sure you know he’s there, “What are you doing?”
You turn to him and it’s clear to see you’ve done exactly what he thinks you have and helped this sheep give birth, the gunk all over your clothes is also wiped across your cheek and forehead.
“She-” You trail off, “The sheep, she was struggling and I didn’t want her to be on her own.”
He opens the gate to the pen, walking in to fall beside you on his knees, “Have you been here all night?” He asks, letting his hands give the small lamb the once over.
“Pretty much,” You nod, “We had a lovely talk, didn’t we?” You ask to the mother sheep who is standing a few steps away, carefully observing Joel as he looks at her lamb.
“Did she do okay?”
“I had to get in there at the end,” You explain to him, “I think it was stuck, so I just gave her a little helping hand.”
Once he’s satisfied that the lamb is okay he shuffles back a little, watching as you do the same, letting the mother sheep have some time with her baby, “You did a good job,” He praises, letting his hand run down the back of you head, “Proud of you, pretty girl.”
He helps you to you feet, bends a little to brush as much stray hay from your jeans as he can before he steps back and really takes you in. It’s unconventional, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve got your hands dirty, spent your night here on your own to help one of his sheep, and the fact that you’re covered in dirt and hay, something about it all makes his jeans go a little tighter, something that he’s not quick enough to hide.
“Are you hard, cowboy?” He hears you tease before you’re stepping forward, “Does the sight of me covered in blood and guts turn you on?”
He rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, leaving the pen now he’s satisfied the sheep will be okay, but he can hear your feet following him and then your hand on his arm to get him to stop.
“You’ve not gone all shy on me, have you?” You speak softly, gently moving him so he turns a little.
“Have I ever been shy, pretty girl?”
“Then tell me,” You shrug, smirk plastered across your face, “Does this,” He watches as you drag a hand over the mess that is your clothes, “Turn you on?”
“You wanna know the truth?” He asks, voice low, “I wanna bend you over and get you to shut the hell up.”
Joel can’t help but let his own smirk show when your eyebrows raise, but it’s a fleeting later in your guise, because you’re turning around, showing him your back as you walk towards the stacked bales of hay in the corner. He can hear the clinking of your belt buckle and the telltale sound of you unzipping your jeans.
He’s stuck to the ground as he watches you pull down your jeans and your underwear, baring your backside to him. You pull them all the way down, letting them pool at your ankles as you spread your legs a little wider, bending yourself over the hay in the exact position he had in his head.
“Come on then cowboy,” You say, head turned over your shoulder to speak to him, “Come and shut me the hell up.”
It’s been an automatic response of his for years now, that when you present yourself to him, in any way, he falls to his knees like someone praying to an altar, and today is no different. He’s on his knees behind you, at just the right height to grip his palms to your ass, spread you open wide for him.
He wastes no time, he rarely does anymore, letting his mouth close over the hole of your pussy, somehow already weeping for him. He lets his tongue dip inside, lapping at your slick. It’s been years and he still doesn’t think he’ll get over how good you taste, how it lingers on his tongue for hours whilst he goes about his day.
Whilst he’s lapping up your slick, he lets one of his hands reach around, thumb searching out your clit, little circles rubbed across the little bud. He listens, feeling his cock throb in his jeans when you let out a gasp and a little moan.
“Not so talkative now, are we, pretty girl?” He mumbles, barely pulling off your pussy to speak, before he’s switching his hand and his mouth, leaning just enough so his tongue can flick against your clit, one of his fingers slipping inside you easily.
He chuckles against you when you moan at the curling of his fingers inside you - he loves when he can reduce you to a whimpering mess in seconds. It doesn’t take him long to feel the telltale signs that he’s going to make you come either. He can feel you start to fluttering around the two fingers he now has buried inside you, can feel the way you try and tighten your thighs around his face, so he carries on exactly how he is - suckling at your clit and moving his fingers in and out of your cunt until you’re coming for him, a high-pitched moan of his name from your mouth.
Joel doesn’t wait, he can’t wait. He stands, making quick work of pushing his own jeans and underwear from his body, finally freeing his aching cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He spits obscenely into his palm, running a tight fist up and down his length a few times before he’s dipping his knees, rubbing the head of his cock against the slick hole of your cunt, listening as he pushes himself inside you, giving you every inch of him as slowly as he possibly can, until he’s sheathed inside your tight heat.
He leans forward, covering your body with his own, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he gets used to the feeling of you clenching and fluttering around him. He can feel you wiggling a little under him, trying to get him to move, so he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, squeezing a little, stopping your movements altogether.
“Keep still,” He warns, “You need to keep still a minute, baby.”
There’s never going to be a time where he doesn’t need to do this. The soft, wet heat of your cunt and those first movements inside you that make him feel like he’s eighteen again, ready to come with a few thrusts.
He gives himself another minute before he starts pulling his cock out of you, slowly dragging through your slick until just the tip is left inside you, then he’s slamming himself back into you, setting a bruising pace.
The sound is obscene - there’s the wet squelch he can hear whenever he pushes his cock back into you, the slapping of his skin against yours and the way you both sound when you’re moaning each others names. He’s not going to last long, he knows it. All of this combined with the fact that anyone could wander in and see you has a thrill settling across his spine.
Joel leans forward again, letting his teeth bite down gently on the skin of your neck. He can feel the way your cunt is clenching, if he can just hold on, just a little longer, he can get another one from you, he knows it.
“Tell me,” He chokes out into your ear, “Tell me how to get you there.”
You let out a loud moan, turning your face to his, kissing him, all teeth and tongue and clumsy, “Bite me again.”
So he does, he lets his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking gently, sure to leave a mark, his hand slinking underneath your belly and down to your pussy, soaked bud of nerves exposed just right for him to use his fingers to swirl across it a few times.
“Oh my God-” He can hear you moaning, “Joel, fuck, please, don’t stop, just like that.”
Within seconds, he can feel you coming on his cock - cunt pulled tight, sucking him in. He feels the gush of slick from your pussy too, cock angled just right to have you squirting for him, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. It’s the tightening of your walls around him that sets his own orgasm off - that flush of pleasure across his body that blooms even more as he empties himself inside you. He can feel everything, the way your pussy clenches every time he gives you more, sucking his spend in as deep as possible.
He pushes himself up off you a little, hands on your hips, frantically sucking in air. He groans a little as he pulls himself from your cunt, standing back to admire how his cum drips from you. He doesn’t linger long, bending down to pull your clothes back up, gentle kiss pressed to the swell of your bottom as he does. He lets you zip yourself up whilst he puts himself right.
“Well, that was a great start to the morning.” You muse, pressing up on your tiptoes, gripping at his flannel shirt.
He’s about to speak when there’s a bleating from the sheep in the pen behind you, you both laugh, “Someone else agrees.”
He dips down, kisses your mouth slowly, gently, “Go and get clean,” He speaks against your lips, turning you around and giving you a tap on your ass as he does, “You’re filthy.”
“Still turns you on though.”
“Go on, get outta here.”
#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Tommy miller x reader#Tommy miller x female reader#Tommy miller x f!reader#Tommy miller x you#Tommy miller fic#Tommy miller fanfic#Tommy miller fanfiction#Tommy miller smut#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#hbo the last of us#joel x reader x tommy
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pairing: tommy miller x waitress!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 2.9k
summary: what if joel didn’t answer tommy’s call from jail? and what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?
author’s note: a brief tommy interlude inspired by a line from taylor swift’s song “slut!”. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging or commenting! 🩵
tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no outbreak au, no use of y/n, reader gets harassed by a drunk bar patron and physically grabbed, bar fights, mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, tommy smoking cigarettes, i gave tommy an insane amount of game and for what reason, thigh riding, semi-public sex, car sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names, creampie. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!
“You’ve reached Joel Miller. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now…”
“Son of a bitch,” Tommy hisses. The voicemail tone beeps and he continues with, “Joel, answer your goddamn phone. I’m at county. And no, it ain’t my fault. Just…get here when you can, I guess.”
He hangs up the receiver, head low. The officer watching him clears his throat.
“C’mon, Miller. Back to the tank,” he says. Tommy sighs.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’, Chuck.”
Tommy drags his feet across the dingy linoleum. His jaw aches from a sloppy right hook that managed to hit its mark and his eyes burn thanks to the unforgiving drunk tank fluorescent lights. There are two other people in the cell with him this evening — a man who reeks of vodka slumped in the corner in a wrinkled suit and another man who is staring solemnly at a spot on the floor as he tries not to topple over.
Tommy takes a seat on the long concrete bench and stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles and folding his hands over his stomach. He might as well get comfortable, there’s no telling when his brother might check his voicemails. As he sits his thoughts drift to what even landed him here in the first place.
Tommy watches you as you approach the bar, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. You tap the service machine, entering an order with more force than strictly necessary.
“Everythin’ alright?” He asks. You glance at him.
“Yeah, just some group of assholes over by the darts table that think cleavage is an invitation,” you reply. “It’s an invitation for tips. Not hands.”
“You need me to step in?” He offers. You wave a hand at him but your frown turns into a bright smile.
“No, no, I can handle it. Thank you, though, Tommy.” You slide another bottle of beer across the bar. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” he says with a wink. “You let me know if you need savin’.”
“Always such a gentleman.”
The bell to the kitchen window rings and you leave to pick up the order. Tommy watches the sway of your hips in your low rise jeans that hug your ass just right, wondering what it would be like to peel them off and get his hands on the soft skin underneath.
He’s watching the fight on the TV above the bar when he hears a glass shatter behind him. He turns toward the sound, thinking that maybe someone had gotten too rowdy and knocked their glass off the table, but instead he sees you struggling against the hold of a man who’s pulled you onto his lap.
“Let go!” You shout, kicking your legs.
“Come on, sweetheart,” the brute says, arms wrapped around your waist. “Just one lil kiss is all I’m askin’ for!”
Tommy is out of his seat with red in his vision, hands curled into fists that are begging for a target. Other patrons watch with interest, and he’s not sure if he’s angrier at the man putting his hands on you or the crowded room of people not bothering to help.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her,” he barks, the same tone he developed after years of service in the Army.
The man releases you, the sudden loss of support causing you to slide to the ground with a shout of surprise. Tommy moves to help you up but the asshole stands, blocking him and shoving his shoulders.
“This don’t involve you, pretty boy,” the man snarls. Behind him, you’ve managed to get up and you hurry away from the scene. “Mind your fuckin’ business.”
“It became my fuckin’ business as soon as she said no and you didn’t listen,” Tommy says, straightening his shoulders. The man laughs and looks back at his friends.
“This fuckin’ guy,” he slurs. “Defendin’ some whore waitress.”
Throw the first punch, Tommy thinks. Come on, asshole.
The man focuses his attention back on Tommy, stepping close enough that they’re toe-to-toe now. He’s maybe an inch taller and he tilts his chin to stretch that inch as far as it will go and he’s breathing through his nose like a bull about to be released from its holding.
“Get out of my fuckin’ face,” Tommy says. The man laughs, the stench of beer pouring from him. A fist cracks across Tommy’s jaw and he stumbles backwards from the force of it.
Showtime, he thinks.
“Miller!” An officer calls out, yanking Tommy from his thoughts. He looks up and the officer jerks his head towards the door. “You made bond. Come get your stuff.”
Tommy stands, relief flooding him. Joel must have finally check his voicemail. At least he won’t have to spend the whole night in here.
“‘Bout time you showed up,” he says as he enters the lobby while he tries to thread his belt through his jeans at the same time.
“Sorry, had to finish my shift,” you reply. His head snaps up in surprise, task forgotten as you wave your fingers at him.
“What’re you doin’ here?” He asks.
“You said your brother was busy tonight, so I was worried you might not have someone to bail you out,” you tell him with a shrug. “Besides, you’re in here because of me. It’s the least I could do.”
Tommy laughs. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, by the way. Guess I did need saving, after all.”
“You could’a handled him fine. I just sped up the process.”
He’s staring at you now, gaze caught with yours as you give him a soft smile. Tommy spots the time on the clock hanging on the wall above your head.
2:32 a.m.
“You wanna get breakfast?”
The diner Tommy directs you to boasts a neon sign that advertises twenty-four hour breakfast. The booths have cracked red vinyl and the menus are faded from use but you can read it well enough to order French toast while he orders chocolate chip pancakes with a side of hash browns. He builds pyramids out of the coffee creamer cups while you talk and talk and talk. You laugh as he drowns his food in syrup and you steal a bite of them despite giving him a hard time about it.
Afterwards, as you walk together to your car, your palms are a little clammy and your heart pounds the slightest bit faster. You’ve had the biggest crush on Tommy since the first time he slid onto a bar stool at your shitty bar and ordered a Miller Lite (“It’s funny ‘cause it’s my last name!”). He’s always polite, never leaves a mess, and makes you laugh even when you’re having a tough night.
"You alright? You got quiet," Tommy says. You swallow nervously.
"Yeah, I'm totally fine," you reply. He looks like he doesn't want to believe you but he doesn't press for more.
"You mind if I have a smoke before we go?"
"That's fine."
He digs a crumpled box of Camels from his back pocket, sliding a cigarette out and bringing it to his lips. He pats his thighs and then his chest in search of his lighter, finding it in the pocket of his button up shirt. Metal Zippo lighter finally in hand, he flicks it open and brings it closer to his face, flickering flame casting an orange glow over his features.
He breathes in as the cigarette catches the flame and closes the lighter with a quick snap, exhaling the smoke with the cigarette still held between his lips. Lighter tucked away, he inhales again and pinches the filter of the cigarette between two fingers to pull it away and exhale the smoke into the air.
“You gotta quit lookin’ at me like that,” he says. “You keep watchin’ my mouth and it makes me want to do somethin’ real stupid.”
You lean against your car and he steps close. He smells like a mix of smoke and syrup and sweat, three things that shouldn’t have your pulse pounding and yet combined with the way Tommy’s dark eyes focus on you and the dimple in his cheek as he smirks, you don’t stand a chance.
“More stupid than getting in a bar fight?” You finally ask.
“That wasn’t stupid. Got me here with you, didn’t it?” He inhales another lungful of smoke and tips his head back to exhale. “You gonna let me kiss you?”
You smile at him, lifting your hands to smooth your palms over his chest. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink that trails down his neck, disappearing beneath the white tank top he wore beneath an unbuttoned pink shirt.
“That’s your big stupid idea? Just kissing me?”
Another drag from his cigarette, another smirk, a hand on your hip as he shuffles closer. “Mm, to start.” He brings his lips close to your ear, warm breath tickling your skin as he murmurs, “You didn’t answer the question.”
“What question?”
“You—“ a kiss beneath your ear “—gonna—“ another to your jaw “—let me—“ a third to your cheekbone “—kiss you?”
“Yeah, Tommy. You can kiss me,” you whisper. He wastes no time, greedy lips pressed to yours as soon as he gets the green light. His tongue explores your mouth and tangles with yours, leaving behind the taste of pancakes and smoke.
A thigh presses between your legs, a new pressure and friction that you explore with a tentative roll of your hips. That hand on your waist urges your movements — forward and back at a slow and steady pace. He pulls back from your kiss and brings the cigarette to his lips.
“So goddamn pretty,” he whispers, smoke spilling from his mouth and disappearing into the night air. “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”
He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground and then he’s on you with renewed purpose, kissing you deeply with a broad palm to your cheek, tilting your face to the best angle to devour you. When he’s gotten his fill of your mouth, his hungry lips slide across your jaw and down your neck, teeth digging in roughly against your pounding pulse and making you gasp.
“Hush, sugar,” he says, a reprimand with little heat as he smiles against your skin. That hand on your waist has found the fly of your jeans, deft fingers working the button open and the zipper down. “You want a little more attention?”
“Mhm,” you reply, nodding your head quickly. He slips his hand beneath the elastic of your panties, quickly swirling over your needy clit. He lets out a deep groan, one that has you clenching on nothing and desperate for more.
“God, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he says. He presses two thick fingers to your tight entrance. “You can take it, right?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer before pressing them inside, the tight pressure making you rise up on your toes in surprise. He’s got a limited range of movement thanks to your jeans but he still manages a sloppy grind of his palm to your clit and curl of his fingers that has you squirming as your release builds inside of you.
“You want more, baby?” Tommy asks, dark eyes a little wild and desperate. “You feel so good in my fingers, I just know you’d take my cock so fuckin’ good.”
“Tommy,” you pant, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
He yanks his hand from your jeans and before you can complain, he’s opening the back passenger door and urging you into the back seat of your sedan.
“Pants off,” he demands as you shuffle across the seats. He sits beside you and starts to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my cock.”
His words have you scrambling to remove your boots and pants, graceless movements in the cramped space. Your elbow connects with his ribs and he hisses as you giggle, wiggling your pants and underwear off. It’s dark in the car, dim light from the parking lot filtering in the windows enough for you to catch the smile on Tommy’s face.
“C’mere,” he drawls, patting his thighs. He’s freed his cock from his jeans and you admire the thick length of him for a brief moment before obeying, straddling his lap. You drag your wet pussy over him, twin groans filling the still air of the car as you do. His hands flex against your thighs and his head tips back against the seat. “Fuck, you feel so damn good.”
It’s not the most comfortable encounter you’ve ever had, with your neck bent so that you don’t hit your head and your skin already slick with sweat from the cramped space and the Texas heat but, heaven help you, the look on Tommy’s face makes it worth it. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, holding him still as you position him at your entrance.
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss as you lower yourself, your eager cunt adjusting to him with only the slightest pinch of pain that quickly transforms into a delicious fullness. “Oh my god,” you whimper.
“You can just call me Tommy,” he teases, but his voice is just as wrecked as yours. You rise up slightly on your knees and drop down sharply, a satisfied smile on your face when his laughter morphs into a choked curse and his hands grip your hips tightly.
His fingers find the hem of your shirt and lift it up only enough to expose your bra, the cups of which he roughly pulls down until he’s able to get his hands on your breasts, groping you roughly. You moan as his lips wrap around one pert nipple, tongue swirling over the sensitive flesh and light dragging his teeth across it.
The windows grow foggy and your skin starts to get slick with sweat the longer you work yourself over his cock. It’s messy and dirty and uncomfortable, your thighs burn and your neck aches, but Tommy’s making it his goal to get his lips on any skin he can reach, whispered praises between each bite and kiss that has your head growing fuzzy and your core getting tight.
“Feel so good, darlin’,” he groans. “Goddamn, I need you to cum, baby. You were so close before, weren’t ya? I can get you there again, right?”
You nod, mouth open in a silent moan. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, slipping it experimentally over your teeth until it presses against your tongue. You suck on the digit, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and he groans, hips flexing to meet yours and making you cry out.
“‘M so close, Tommy,” you whisper when he withdraws his thumb from your mouth.
“Yeah, I can feel it, sweetheart,” he growls. When you lift up he holds your hips steady, suspended above his lap. He pounds into you from below, rough slaps of his hips that make you press a hand to the ceiling of the car to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. “Come on, baby, come on,” he says through gritted teeth.
It’s the dark look in his eye and the flex of his jaw, the shimmer of sweat on his light tan skin and the feel of his fingers digging bruises into your hips, the lewd noises and the desperate moans against each others mouths that all combine to shove you over an edge you’d been balancing on since, if you’re being honest, he rushed over to help you back at the bar. You bite into his lip as your orgasm crashes over you, his sloppy thrusts and the heat blooming inside of you telling you he reached his peak as well.
You slump forward, panting heavily against Tommy’s neck. His head tips back against the seat, chest heaving with his own labored breaths. His fingers draw patterns against your sweaty back.
“I feel gross,” you groan. Tommy laughs.
“Sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself, don’t ya?” He teases.
“I just meant I’m all sticky.”
“Mm, don’t worry. You can take a shower at my place.”
You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s sporting a satisfied grin as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah? You taking me home, Miller?”
“Sure am.” His confident look falters the slightest bit. “I mean, if you want.”
You kiss him, slow and sweet.
“Yeah. I want that.”
The loud ringing of a phone breaks through Tommy’s slumber. He reaches out a hand from beneath the sheets and blindly finds the offensive device amongst the clutter on his nightstand.
“What,” he groans when he’s managed to flip it open.
“Tommy! What the hell, man,” Joel snaps. “I just got your voicemail. Left my phone upstairs and fell asleep on the couch. Are you alright?”
“What?” Tommy asks again. Joel sighs.
“You called from county and said you’d gotten arrested. I called ‘em this morning and they said you got bailed out. One of your friends come by or somethin’?”
Tommy glances over to you, where your bare shoulder peeks out from the sheets, the fabric draped across your curves. He smiles.
“Yeah, a real good friend. Guardian angel, even,” he says.
Another sigh from Joel, this time one of relief. “Well, good. Quit gettin’ into trouble after ten, I can’t stay up that late anymore.”
“Sure,” Tommy agrees. You turn over, sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “I gotta go.”
He hangs up without waiting for a goodbye. You scooch closer and lay your head on his chest.
“A guardian angel, huh?” You ask. He kisses the top of your head.
“Yep. Saved my ass from the wrong place at the right time.”
Masterlists available here!
#tommy miller x female reader#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller#tommy miller tlou#tommy miller x you#tommy tlou#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x y/n
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IT WILL COME BACK
a/n: this man won the poll and in all honesty, i couldn't stop myself from writing for tommy miller. have you seen him? he's fine as fuck. which resulted in this. in my head i will just make this a small collection of drabbles compiled on a masterlist. so after this i'll reblog prompts you can request more from that tie into this fic. since i have my joel series going i won't make this a full series (yet). either way i hope you enjoy.
summary: mornings in the kitchen with him made life worthwhile.
word count: 4.1k+
pairing: pre-outbreak tommy miller x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, oral (f receiving), floor sex, p in v sex (not really though), spitting, tommy miller being a little shit, fluff, romance.
Sunlight attempted to break through your curtains; the sheer white blocking anything but the warmth. You felt it creep along the bed, encasing you in a bundle of blankets that trapped the sun’s glow. Shifting to your side, you expected to feel him there. Feel the broad expanse of his chest as you reached out with still closed eyes.
You found nothing but the cold sheets instead.
The first thing that ran through your mind as your eyes fluttered open, was that he must have woken up early enough to head out to work. It would explain why you never heard him leave. While he may share your bed at night, this wasn’t his home. Not entirely.
The drawer you emptied for him only held a flannel or two—mainly for you to use—but nothing essential remained. At night his touch, his body, was yours but once morning came, they were nothing but a lingering memory that stuck to the edges of your mind. If it weren’t for his scent that still remained on the blankets—you would have thought you imagined him.
With a sigh, you sat up. The sheets pooled at your waist, exposing your bare chest. It’s not like you needed him here in the morning, but waking up alone always felt hollow without him. Tommy turned your house into a space you actually found solace in, but the serenity never truly lasted. So, you were left with no other choice but to swallow the pain like it was medicine.
When in fact it was poisoning you slowly; Tommy simply remained your antidote.
Searching through the drawer, you pulled out one of his flannels. More than happy to be wrapped up in his scent.
Eventually, the time would come when you would have to go about your day, and the memory of last night would shift into becoming just that. A memory. But for now you basked in the afterglow that still stuck to your skin.
The urge to tell Tommy what you were feeling would have normally come out sooner or later. But this feeling, this aching loneliness that ate away at the inside of your body, was something you kept to yourself. If he knew how him leaving each morning affected you, he would let the guilt fester in his heart. Because that was his weakness at the end of the day. It wasn’t you, but the feeling that his actions caused you to hurt.
You found that it was better to keep him in the dark, than to burden him with something that would ultimately change the trajectory of your relationship. It was easier this way. Or at least that was a belief you continued to tell yourself. You loved him, this he knew, and he loved you all the same. But the future was a topic that terrified you enough to keep it hidden until things could one day be different.
The scent of coffee filled the bedroom. You figured the timer on the machine must have gone off, starting the brew. That became your alarm most days, the aroma of a good cup of coffee usually pulled you out of bed faster than an alarm.
Tightening the flannel around your bare body, you made your way downstairs, instantly regretting forgetting your slippers as your feet connected with the cold hardwood floors. You wouldn’t be down here long, ready to grab a cup of coffee and crawl back into the safety of your blankets. Yet the sound of a crooning southern voice playing softly in the background and someone humming along, stopped you in the doorway of the kitchen.
Tommy stood at the stove, attempting to flip what you assume was an omelet at one point. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his expression. The furrow of his eyebrows as he concentrated, his lips pursed in frustration when things didn’t exactly go his way.
“Good morning,” you said, drawing his attention away from the catastrophe on the stove.
He turned, his chest and stomach on display. You felt heat creep up your face at the sight of the dark hickeys that trailed down into his jeans. Last night was still a slight blur, but you could vividly recall leaving those—marking him as yours. A wild need to possess him took you over as he was sprawled out beneath your body. Other times you would feel the slight tinge of embarrassment creep into your mind, but you knew he loved it.
“You’re up,” he responded, his eyes dragging down the expanse of your bare legs. His flannel only covered so much—leaving you open and free for him to admire. “I was making you breakfast.” His tongue swept along his bottom lip. You wondered if you left a slight bruise from where you had sucked it into your mouth.
“Smells good.”
He smiled, turning back to flip off the burner. “Smells like burnt shit, but thanks for lying.”
Moving around the table, you slid your hands up his back, lips pressing to his shoulder and suddenly…the ache disappeared. Retreating to the far reaches of your mind, giving you the peace you needed. Sighing against his skin, you felt him shiver beneath your touch. You know his reaction by heart now. Could practically see the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the pleasure of your touch grounding him.
Tommy would forever be a man with a mission. Never once able to sit still long enough to not fly away, but you were the gravity holding him down. You were the reason he hadn’t left this town yet. Though he left every morning, there still remained the guarantee that no matter what, he’d return once the sun went down. Falling into your bed with whispered promises he would eventually break, and a love that was sweeter than honey.
“I thought you had work this morning,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands shifting to rest over yours.
“Called Joel while you were asleep. Told him I’d be coming late.”
You hummed, hand dragging slowly down his stomach. “I bet he wasn’t happy about that.”
The soft huff of laughter he let out made your heart beat just a bit quicker. But it was the soft groan that rumbled in his chest as your hand dipped into his jeans, that had a fresh wave of slick pooling out of you. He was already hard, his cock heavy in your hand as you slowly palmed him. The realization made you throb, the heady dizziness of lust rushing over you. Wrapping your hand around his length, you felt him twitch, dragging another grunt from him.
If you had the time, you’d drop to your knees for him there in the kitchen. Make him see stars the way he did to you last night. But Joel was an impatient man when it came to Tommy. You knew he only had barely an hour tops and you wanted him inside you before the time ran out.
He turned quickly, forcing you to let go of him. The small sound of protest you let out, cut off by his lips, his hand wrapping gently around your throat to keep you there, tongue delving into your mouth with ease. Tommy knew what made you melt into his body, knew how to drag out all manner of sounds from you, and you gave in willingly. You were his to mold. His to have.
“Baby,” he breathed, his fingers digging into your ass, dragging you closer. “I can feel you soakin’ my jeans.”
A wet moan was pressed to his jaw. Your hips rolled over his denim clad thigh that was slotted between your legs. You knew you were leaving a wet spot on the fabric—that he’d have to wear these jeans to work probably—but you couldn’t care. Not when you felt the fabric catch on your clit, sending a shock through your body.
“Want you,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “I need you inside me.”
He moaned, hips grinding against yours. You felt him pull down his flannel, cupping your breast in his palm, thumb running over your peaked nipple, before he dipped down and took it into his mouth. Gasping, your head fell back, hips rolling over his leg even faster as the pleasure continued to mount in your body. Heat spilling into every part of you, burning you from the inside out.
“Tommy.”
He groaned as you pulled at his curls, dragging his lips back to yours. If there was a place you’d want to spend forever with, it was here with him. Wrapped up in your small safe haven of just each other. No one else existed when you were with Tommy. He consumed you, yet you gave into it without question. There was no one else for you and he knew it.
Dragging the piece of fabric off your body, his calloused palms ran along your skin, sending a shiver through your body at his light touch. You whimpered, barely able to open your eyes due to the dizziness clouding your mind. He smiled at your reaction, eyes dark with lust and yet somehow within the brown, you saw the light he had within. The light you ached for.
There he was, pouring it into you with each kiss pressed to your skin. He promised you forever without saying it and you wanted so badly for him to keep it this time.
“Take me upstairs baby,” you breathed into his mouth, hand feeling his stomach clench as you pressed your palm to his hot skin.
He shook his head. “Can’t do that ma’am.”
“What?” Pulling back, you felt him smile against your throat, his teeth sinking into your skin a moment later. “W-why?” you rasped, fingers curling around his hair in an effort to grasp onto something stable.
“Want to eat you,” he mumbled against you, teeth closing around your earlobe and tugging. “And I eat my meals in the kitchen.”
If it were any other time and his fingers weren’t inching towards your aching clit, you would have laughed. Told him he was an idiot in the most loving voice you could muster—your emotions bubbling over with a single look from him. But before you could get the word out, his fingers circled your clit, causing you to sag into his hold. You buried your head into his neck, your cry muffled against his skin as he built the rapidly growing pressure in your stomach.
“You gonna come for me honey?” You nodded, hips rolling over his thigh faster in an attempt to get there, to feel the hot bliss wash over your skin. “I know you want to.”
“Tommy,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulder. “Please.”
He groaned, fingers digging down to spread you, your slick practically dripping down his hand. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg. Alright honey, I got you.”
You keened when he pressed you down harder on his thigh, guiding you through the small stunted thrusts. Vaguely you were aware of how much time was passing, but the worry that he’d leave soon was washed from your mind the second he pinched your clit between his fingers. You sobbed into his neck, eyes rolling back as the dam finally broke, your body going taut—pleasure flooding you. It practically spilled out of you, overwhelming every part of your being, and Tommy kept going.
He pushed and pulled your hips, dragging you along his thigh and smearing your cum along the fabric until they were good and ruined. The pleasure continued to build, burning so hot inside you that you could barely see straight. If you weren’t careful you wouldn’t be able to find a way back to yourself, but maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to ruin you so perfectly, you’d never be the same after him.
Although who were you kidding. There’d never be anything after Tommy.
“Oh god oh god,” you chanted, your withering moan being swallowed by his lips colliding with yours.
Spit trailed down your chin as he pulled away. The two of you combined; you expected him to wipe it away. Only he smeared it across your cheek, his dark eyes following his thumb as it dragged along your skin.
“On the floor,” he said, his voice gruff and thick with lust.
Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to deny him. Your mind had settled into that sweet spot of numbness that allowed him to maneuver your body in any way he pleased. Without realizing it, you found yourself spread on the kitchen floor, his flannel now parted to reveal the expanse of your naked body. A sight that Tommy was indulging himself in.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your waist, fingers stroking the side of your breast. “And all fuckin’ mine.”
Your body jolted, a shaky breath leaving you as he dropped down your body. Lips kissing and teeth biting along your hips—the dichotomy of pleasure and pain turning the molten burn into a raging fire. If there’s one thing you could expect with Tommy it was this. The softness that came with his touch.
He made you fall in love with his laughs, his jokes, but he owned you with his lips—his hands that spread you open, revealing you to his eyes.
“Baby,” you sighed as he pulled your legs up and over his shoulders, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“Yeah honey?”
The small word brought a smile to your lips. “Love you.”
You watched his eyes light up, his lips parting into a smile so big you felt it in your chest. There it was. The reason Tommy could call your heart his. You met him unexpectedly and before you knew it…he had you with that smile alone. He was the one you could call home, the one you saw yourself spending forever with. If only you knew that Tommy felt the exact same way—that the small little box tucked away in his jacket pocket was burning a hole right through his heart at this very moment.
“I love you so damn much,” he said, placing a kiss on your inner thigh.
The clock that hung on the kitchen wall taunted you, telling you that eventually your time with him would be up. That he’d get up, go to work, and leave nothing but the pleasurable ache between your thighs and sore bites up and down your skin. You wanted to capture this moment in your hands, to hold it close when he left. But all you could do was remain in it—savor his touch, his lingering love that burned you slowly, sensually.
The first lick of his tongue through your pussy sent a jolt up your body. You gasped, hips canting up slightly to meet his mouth as he moaned into you. Tommy was insatiable when it came to you, this became clear early on in your relationship. What you didn’t know was how enamored he was with your taste. How he craved you constantly. You learned quickly that if you didn’t cut him off, Tommy would spend hours between your thighs.
His lips attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and causing your head to fall back against the floor with a soft thud. Sparks littered up your spine, a broken sob of his name echoing off the kitchen walls. You were thankful the floor was so cold, because you were currently overheated, your body desperate for some balance to the madness.
“F-fuck,” you gasped, eyes falling shut, hand digging into his unruly curls. “You’re so good. I’m–fuck Tommy.” Your words broke off into a whine, his tongue pressing against your entrance.
He lost himself, the taste of you becoming an addiction he couldn’t get rid of, but at the end of the day…he wouldn’t want to. His nails scraped along your thighs as he moaned into your pussy, his hips grinding into the floor to appease the need he felt growing. Licking into you, he watched your mouth drop open in a silent sob, your legs shaking with each flick of his tongue along your clit. You wouldn’t last long, he knew this.
Except he was adamant to remain here with you, unwilling to leave until he felt you gush into his mouth.
Lifting his head, he heard your broken whines of protest echo in the air. The small beg to have him keep going caused his cock to throb painfully in his jeans. You were beautiful like this. Incoherent with pleasure and body covered with a sheen of sweat that made you glow in the early morning sunlight. He grinned, licking at his bottom lip, resembling a starved man desperate for another taste of his meal.
“I know, I know,” he murmured, shifting up swiftly to press his lips against yours. Sharing your taste as he licked deeply into your mouth. “My pretty baby.”
“I want you inside me,” you begged, hips bucking up to grind against his. “Please Tommy, need you to fill me—” He cut you off with a sharp gasp, his fingers sliding through your spit slicked pussy.
“‘M not done honey.”
The beg was on the tip of your tongue, another plea to hopefully convince him of what you both wanted. Him spitting into your pussy lewdly cut you off. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue spreading his spit up to your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. The plea died in your throat—an incoherent cry of his name overtaking as his fingers curled into you, finding the spot along your walls without trying.
Tommy knew your body well enough to notice the signs. The way your legs trembled, how your walls clamped down around his fingers. You were right on the edge and he wanted to see you fly off. Moaning against your pussy one more time, he scraped his teeth gently along your clit, fingers rubbing against your g-spot in quick movements. The pleasure once again built, mind growing hazy with it as he continued to push you until you were right there.
Glancing down, you caught sight of him thrusting his hips against the floor, desperate to get himself there and that did it. You snapped, brokenly sobbing his name as your hips grinded against his mouth. He let you use him, doing his best to continue stimulating you, the wet sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy now echoing through the room.
Pleasure filled you, burning its way through your body until you could do nothing but silently scream. You tried to catch your breath, but it was stuck—lodged in your chest—forcing you to take in gasps of air. All the way through, Tommy continued to lick and suck at your clit, grunting with each thrust of his hips. He was aching for you, nearly on the edge but unable to fully finish.
“Taste so fuckin’ good honey,” he mumbled drunkenly into your pussy, his eyes shut and mind in a state of delirium. “Shit—” The button of jeans knocked against the floor, his forehead falling to rest on your hip.
“Tommy,” you breathed, fingers curling around his arm and trying to tug him up your body. But not before he kissed above your clit, licking one last time into you.
His hand slapped against the floor above your head, tongue pushing your cum into your mouth and sending a shiver through your body. Even as your shaky hands dipped into his jeans, pulling him out, he still asked to keep tasting you. That’s how things worked in his mind. Seeing you cum was worth more to him than getting off himself.
“Want you to cum,” you mumbled into his mouth, tilting your hips up and notching his cock at your entrance.
“Fuck honey.” He gasped, as you started to fuck yourself on the very tip of his cock, his hand moving down to keep himself steady. “You want me to fill you up?”
You nodded, whining his name against his cheek. “Need it baby.”
Pumping himself in quick strokes, he felt his balls draw up—the tightening in his abdomen nearly causing him to double over. It wouldn’t take him long at all; his release already having built as he ate you out. The feeling of your hand moving to cup his balls did him in. With a hoarse shout he felt something break inside of himself, your walls clamping down around his cock as he finally pushed himself into your pussy.
You sighed at the warm feeling of his cum spurting along your walls, filling you until it dripped down and smeared along your thighs. But nothing compared to the sight of Tommy lost in his own bliss. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows pulling tight as a flush of red took over his face and chest. It would take him a while to come back to you, his mind buzzing from having cum so hard.
With a contented sigh, he pressed the rest of his weight on you. “I’m definitely not making it now,” he mumbled, smiling against your chest.
“I don’t need Joel banging on my front door,” you replied, shoving lightly at his shoulder.
He laughed, teeth sinking into the top of your breast, his cock twitching inside of you. “I’ll call him and tell him…”
“Hey sorry I can’t come in today. Got too busy fucking my girlfriend on the kitchen floor.”
“Perfect.”
“Tommy!”
His head raised, smile pulling so wide you could see the slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll say it in a nicer way.”
“You’ll tell him nothing at all.” You cupped his cheek, lips sliding against his softly. “You will get up, wash your jeans, get another cup of coffee, and get out of here before we incur the wrath of the other Miller.”
He sighed into your mouth. “I don’t want to go.”
Your heart twisted in your chest, the reminder of time once again filling you with a dread you could never escape. Neither of you wanted to part, too wrapped up in what could be. But eventually you would have to open your eyes and see what this was. Just two people who loved each other too much to give this their all. A pattern that would never stop.
“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally letting that painful ache be seen by him.
“Then I won’t—”
“You have to.”
Tommy’s eyes searched yours, trying to find something in him he could fight for. Something that would assure him of that single question still residing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted forever with you. Wanted a house together, a dog or cat, the life that he watched his parents once have. He wanted you.
Before he could stop himself, his mouth was moving.
“I want to marry you.”
Your eyes went wide, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Silence passed between you for a brief moment, the shock now being replaced with a sinking feeling. He wouldn’t be saying this if it were a different scenario. In fact you were certain that he wouldn’t even go near this topic on any other day.
“This is just the heat of the moment talking, Tommy,” you said, in an attempt to save yourself from the pain.
His eyes narrowed. “No it’s not.”
“You’re still inside me! You shouldn’t be saying this unless you’re sure that—” His hips grinding into yours cut you off as you gasped.
“You want me down on one knee I’ll do that honey. Want me to give you romance and dinner and everything in between? I’ll do it. But you’ve got to know I’m more serious now than I have ever been.”
“Tomm—”
“Before you can continue your argument—which I’ll let ya—let me go get the ring.”
Your jaw snapped shut, breath catching in your chest at the sight of his grin. “You…you have a ring?”
“Yes honey. I do.”
“Y–You’re serious?”
He nodded, his thumb brushing the top of your cheek. “I want forever with you. If you’ll have me.”
If you listened hard enough, you would have been able to hear your heart burst. The ache now vanished the longer you looked him in the eyes to see the truth. It was there you found it. Small hints of a future that you yearned for was now being offered to you and this time the promise he made would stick. Laughing, you pulled him down for a kiss, your legs hiking over his hips to keep him there with you.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” he asked, parting from you long enough to simply give you another chaste kiss.
This time it was your turn to nod, tears already streaming down your face. “Yes Tommy. I’ll have you. Forever.”
#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x you#tommy miller x y/n#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller#tommy miller smut#the last of us#the last of us fic#my writing
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The Rite of Movement | drabble
“Teacher Tommy”
written deliciously by @tightjeansjavi & @itsokbbygrl 💗🤭 LJ lost her smut v-card last night, and it calls for a celebration!
~word count: 7.0k~ (we…yeah 🥵)
Summary: Tommy teaches you how to properly eat pussy
Pairing | pornstar!tommy miller x f!readers (two unnamed female characters written in 3rd POV)
Warnings: NSFW, smut, amateur porn film, one mention of degrading language (purity culture) soft!dom Tommy, threesome, mff/wlw, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, unprotected piv, bush love, consent, sex positive environment, brief mention of Tommy’s sexuality (and a sprinkle of Joel’s) dirty talk, teasing, one mention of hair (unspecified length/no details) no other physical description of the readers, unspecified age gap (legal) +18 minors dni! (Let me know if I missed anything!)
series masterlist
Unlike his brother Joel, who meticulously crafts his films and is stubborn as an ox, Tommy’s signature filming style revolves around spontaneity—spur of the moment changes to scripts and impromptu dialogue, creating a care-free and very, very fun set environment where his actors feel empowered to follow their instincts. Tommy isn’t too keen on having the perfect mood lighting or props to add to the ambiance. He likes amateur-style, low quality camera shots and iPhone POV’s from his partners. While Joel is truly making adult-film art, Tommy unabashedly loves making porn.
And Tommy’s girls are first and foremost, sexy. That’s not at all to do with their looks, although if you asked him, they’re all 10 out of 10 knockouts in their unique ways. No, to Tommy it’s all about confidence. A woman who knows what she wants and goes for it, no care for the names society might call her. Slut. Whore. Harlot. Jezebel. There is nothing in the world sexier than a sexually liberated woman, and Tommy has made it his literal job to show the world that.
Tommy checks the time on his phone’s lock screen and heads over to the studio. He’s scheduled to supervise and direct a scene between a couple of their female actresses. A younger looking couple, it’ll be listed as a first-time experience–horny best friends who are experimenting with each other for the first time, hopefully catching the budding chemistry between two women who already love each other one way turning into a simmering heat that leads to sexy fun. Tommy recalls some of his early days experimenting himself, that feeling of excitement at trying something new, learning how to make another person’s body sing like he knows his own, and he knows exactly how he’s going to help them bring that energy to set.
One of Tommy’s actresses is fairly experienced in the art of women loving women porn, but the second is a greenie and it’s evident that she’s feeling nervous and self conscious even before the filming begins.
“Hey, Tommy? Maybe instead of you just filming, you show her how to eat pussy? Make it a teaching moment?” His experienced partner suggests as she takes a sip from her water bottle.
Tommy mulls over the idea for a moment. He wasn’t planning on being in the scene today, but if the day called for it, he could jump in; expecting it from time to time with his line of work where he had to be ready for just about anything. “Think you’re onto somethin’ there.” He grins.
He makes his way over to his second partner who is sitting off to the side, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Tommy notices her slightly trembling fingers and tense shoulders, clearly anxious. Well, that just won’t do.
“Hey doll, y’got a minute?” He asks softly.
She tenses for a second before looking up at him with a practiced pleasant smile. Fuck.
“Yeah, of course! What’s up?” she starts. When Tommy doesn’t speak right away, she sighs and continues, looking back at the phone limply held in her hands, “Look, I understand if you think that I’m maybe not the right fit for this scene. I’ve never—”
He interjects with a reassuring smile. “Hey, none of that, alright? I’m not kickin’ ya offset if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winks to ease her nerves. “Was actually gonna suggest that we make a change, put me in the scene with ya. Y’know, showin’ you the ropes on how to properly eat pussy. How’s that sound, doll?”
She looks at him as if he has suddenly sprouted five heads and her lips part in shock. “Wait, you want to like..teach me? Holy—I mean, I’m good with it if you both are?”
“Course, doll. I’ll teach ya, and then by the end of it, you’ll be a pussy eatin’ pro!” He laughs. “It was actually her idea to have me teach you. We both know you’re a greenie, and we want you to be comfortable, okay?”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. I honestly was dreading coming in for this today when you told me what the premise of the scene would be.” She visibly relaxes and then barks a laugh after a second, hand flying up to cover her mouth. Amused, Tommy prompts her to share her thoughts. “What if we titled it “Teacher Tommy?” she suggests with a small grin.
“Well, if that’s the case,” he leaned in close, “class is in session.”
With everyone on the same page, Tommy double checks to make sure everything is ready to begin filming. He sets the lower quality digital camcorder he thrifted from a local camera shop up on the small table stationed next to the middle of the bed and turns on the attached light, bathing the three of them in a soft white glow that barely extends to the other side of the bed. Low quality resolution is a favorite stylistic choice of Tommy’s, loving the way it adds to the feeling of realism and spontaneity in his films, as if none of this was planned–they just pulled out the camera in the heat of the moment, wanting to cement the memory in history.
He moves to the far corner of the room where he has his phone sitting on an armchair next to a small speaker. He picks it up and opens his Spotify app, turning towards his partners.
“Hey girls, what sounds good? What’s the vibe?”
“Can I see your phone?” his scene partner asks.
“Yeah, baby, of course. Here you go,” he hands her the unlocked phone. She types for a minute and scrolls, finding what she was looking for and hands the phone back to Tommy. He gives the playlist a quick preview. “This will work,” he smirks.
He puts the phone back in its previous place and turns on the speaker, making sure it’s correctly linked to the input of the separate audio recording device so he can mute this particular track while editing the video, and presses play. He learned the hard way that not all background music is equal after they received a cease and desist letter from Universal Music Group for copyright infringement on one of their first videos produced at Miller-Co. Joel was less than pleased about that one, giving Tommy a tongue lashing about professionalism and an angry, “This is why we plan ahead, Tommy!” Since then he’s learned how to create a vibe in the studio conducive to generating the right feelings and reactions in his scene partners while simultaneously protecting their company’s assets. Tommy Miller is nothing if not a practiced multitasker.
“Everyone still ready to go?” Tommy checks in one final time, making sure he has enthusiastic “yeses” from his partners before he starts the camcorder and sits on the bed, starting the scene.
Tommy sits on the bed, the girls following the loose script they’d prepared. They giggle, one of them reaching over and grabbing the hem of Tommy’s cotton t-shirt, looking into his eyes and waiting for his nod before tugging it up over his head, Tommy raising his arms to assist with its removal. The light catches the peaks and valleys of his obliques as he moves. He leans forward, smiling, and reaches out a hand to cup her face and pull her into him for a heated kiss. He makes sure to angle her face with the hand on her jaw so the camera catches the way their tongues dance together while he uses his other hand to move to the waist of her denim shorts.
“Let’s take these off, sugar. Get you a little more comfy,” he drawls, looking her down and back up, meeting her eyes, then dipping to her spit slick, plush lips. She nods, utters a soft yeah, please in response. His fingers trace along the edge of the waistband until they get to the button, pushing it with his thumb through the hole, using his remaining fingers to pull the tab forward, and then pulls the zip down slowly, letting the tension build.
With the extra space, Tommy reaches inside her shorts, cupping his hand over her clothed sex and pressing up with his palm, giving her some friction. She lets out a soft whine. He smiles, atta girl. She pushes the shorts down her thighs and kicks them off with her feet. Now partially exposed, he spreads her thighs, making sure the camera can see his ministrations as he strokes his fingers over her panties, teasing. Her mouth drops open and head drops down, chin to chest, watching where he touches.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it, baby?” He asks and she nods in response. He tips her chin back up with his unoccupied forefinger and leaves another kiss on her mouth before he turns to their other partner, never stopping the teasing ministrations of his occupied hand.
“C’mere, doll. Lemme see you.” He removes his hand from his first partner’s mound, wet patch visible through her cotton panties where he’s pressed them into her cunt, splitting her lips, showing off the shape of her even through the material, and moves it to the collar of his second partner’s blouse. He attaches his lips to the underside of her jaw and nips, soothing the bite with his lips and tongue while his fingers deftly unbutton her shirt, pushing it gently from her shoulders, bare breasts exposed to the cool air of the room around her. She lets it slip off her arms and tangles her fingers in his thick, dark curls, anchoring him to her. He kisses from the spot along her jawline until he meets her mouth and she’s hungry for it, eating at his mouth with her own. He groans at her forwardness, this is his favorite part, he thinks.
Eventually he pulls back, taking a moment to admire her newly exposed skin. He leans forward, taking nearly the whole of one breast into his big hand, and brings it to his mouth, humming as he suckles at her, lathes his tongue over her peaked nipple. She throws her head back and moans. He allows himself one final deep suck before he pulls off with an audible, “pop.” He kisses up her chest, runs the tip of his tongue over the front of her neck, up and over her chin, over her parted lips, and leaves a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. The contrast makes her laugh, and the sound sets him and their other partner off in tandem, the sound tinkling through the room, and easing them into the next moment.
He turns and finds their other partner has removed her top while they were occupied, now only clothed in her damp panties and little socks. He shucks his pants and briefs, and the girls share a heated look before moving together. Tommy makes room, allowing them to explore each other for a moment while he reaches down and palms his half hard cock. They finish undressing each other as they kiss, hands roaming over torsos, before the first girl lets one hand drift lower, reaching the wet center of her partner, and she slides her middle finger through the glistening slick, gathering some before bringing it to her mouth, making eye contact and sucking it deep into her mouth, groaning at the tangy flavor that bursts on her tongue.
“Yum,” she says playfully, and they giggle. Tommy joins in, smiling, loving watching them have fun. This is what this is all about, he thinks, cock now fully hard in his grip, thumb gently stroking over his head, smearing the precum there, creating a sticky mess.
He rejoins them. “She taste nice, sweetheart?” He asks, tracing his fingers down her chest, her stomach, watching the muscles in her abdomen twitch and clench at the sensation. He looks up and sees her nodding. He grins back, fingers lightly playing with the soft curls at the top of her sex. “Should we compare?” He presses his fingers down, sliding between her lips, a quiet, “Shit,” leaving his mouth unbidden at the sensation of feeling her once dampness now fully blossomed into wet. He drags two fingers insistently through her, running from her hole to just below her clit and back, building her pleasure slowly. He pulls his fingers back, spreads them, lets the sticky mess of her stretch into clear strings between them, and he whistles lowly at the sight. “Ain’t that pretty,” he says, and then he brings them up to her mouth, resting lightly on her lower lip. “Open up, sugar, give yourself a taste.” She obeys, sucking his fingers into her mouth, winding her tongue around and between them, closing her eyes as she suckles, cleaning him fully before releasing them with a pop. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“Hmm,” she thinks on it playfully, tapping her fingers to her chin in mock deep thought. “I think I taste pretty good. Want a taste?” She asks, turning between both of her bed partners searching for a response.
Tommy, as pre-planned, turns and finds the greener of the two women fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. He chimes in, directing his response at her instead, “I’m up to share if you are?”
She raises her head and meets his eyes, her gaze full of trepidation and excitement in equal measure. Good actress, Tommy thinks. She speaks then, softly replying, “I’ve…um, I’ve never..” and gestures to their partners exposed, glistening cunt.
“You’ve never eaten pussy before, baby?” He asks her gently and she shakes her head, dropping eye contact. He reaches up, pushes his fingers through her hair as a comforting point of contact, strokes over the shell of her ear with his thumb, before resting his palm on the side of her neck. “That’s just fine, sweetheart. You wanna learn?” She perks up at the line, eyes alight with the possibility. She nods shyly and Tommy gives her a real smile then, easing her into the meat of the scene. “Well, just call me, “Teacher,” then, I suppose,” and he chuckles.
Here we go, he thinks. He turns back to his other partner, leaning in and giving her another soft kiss on her mouth, then another, and another, leaning her back onto the bed as he goes. “Now you, just lay here and look pretty. We’re gonna take real good care of you, sugar.” Once she’s laid fully on her back, he sits back on his haunches and reaches forward, grabbing under her thighs and hauling her forward by the hips, pressing her thighs back and exposing the center of her fully to their gazes. “Gorgeous little cunt,” he says, and turns to his new pupil. “Come take a look, babygirl. You ever seen a pussy so pretty?”
She scoots over, planting herself right next to Tommy, leaning into his side and looking at where her partner is on display for her. She speaks up then, “So pretty, wow, she’s so wet.” He isn’t sure she’s even fully aware of what she’s doing or if she’s just as pussy drunk as he’s starting to feel, but she reaches forward then, lets her fingers touch featherlight, exploring the feel of another woman for the first time.
“There you go, baby, give it a feel,” Tommy encourages, and she’s a good student, fingers moving more surely then, scritching lightly through her partner’s soft curls, making her stomach jump, and she smiles at the reaction she created. Growing bolder, she dips a finger lower, gasping softly at what she finds waiting for her.
“Oh my god,” their partner moans.
“Doing so good, sweetheart, keep going,” Tommy says, kissing her shoulder, nipping at it lightly, letting his hand explore her back, fingers trailing over the knobs of her spine, dipping ever so slightly into pock marks scattered here and there, tapping at the constellation of beauty marks and moles he finds. When he comes back around to face the scene in front of him, he’s pleasantly surprised to find her fully exploring now.
“Mmm, that nice, sugar? She makin’ you feel good?” Tommy prompts their receiving partner and she nods surely.
“Yeah, she’s so, mmm god, a natural. You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” she asks.
Pausing her ministrations briefly to chuckle, she looks up from where her gaze was trained on the slick slit where her fingers have been playing, “Nope, first pussy I’ve ever been in. It’s fun, I like it. Think I want a taste,” she responds, turning to look at Tommy.
“Yeah, babygirl? Alright, come here,” Tommy pats the space next to him and lays on his stomach, gesturing for her to do the same. She lays down next to him, kicking her feet up behind her and crossing them at the ankles. Cute, he thinks.
“Sugar, can you do us a favor?” He drags his hands up the backs of her thighs and pushes them towards her chest by the bend of her knees. “Can you hold these for us, please? Gonna be a little busy, need both of my hands,” he explains and winks at her. She groans softly in anticipation at his statement and complies, grabbing behind her own knees and maintaining a hold there, opening herself up to be further devoured.
“Ok, baby, now first thing’s first, every pussy’s a little different, every woman is going to like something a little different, too. But there’s two things for certain–” he leans in and presses his hands to the crease where her thighs meet her cunt, runs his thumbs reverently over her outer lips and spreads her open, “don’t overlook the power of gentleness, and always remember to love the clit.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by using the tip of his nose to rub a tight circle into her nub, inhaling deeply as he goes.
“Holy fucking shit,” she responds, squeezing her thighs tighter in her grip.
The woman next to him squirms, and he wonders if she’s feeling it, too, the phantom drag across her most sensitive spots.
He pulls his face back to move the scene forward, delivering a line they planned earlier. "Hey, sugar, you got your phone with you?” She lifts her head from where it was resting on the bed to nod at him. “Let's get this on video so babygirl here can watch it back later, give her a little coaching if she needs it,” he turns next to him, plants a kiss on his partner’s shoulder, “Or if she’s as much of a natural as I think she’ll be, you’ll both have a nice little souvenir for the wank bank," he ends crudely, almost jokingly, shrugging and chuckling.
She lets go of one of her legs and reaches over, finds her phone where it was resting in the sheets, unlocking it and turning on the camera, the flash illuminating their faces between her thighs, slick from her cunt making Tommy’s nose glisten. She whines at the sight.
“There we go. We makin’ a pretty picture for you, sugar?” Tommy teases.
“Oh, fuck yeah, this is for sure the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” she replies in earnest.
Tommy preens. He uses one arm to push the leg she dropped to pick up the phone back into position. “Alright sugar darlin’, need you to use both hands, hold that camera steady for us,” he instructs. “Now, baby, grab her other leg, yep just like that, push it back, give yourself some room to work. Perfect little student for me, aren’t you?” Access to their pussy re-granted, Tommy gets back to work, missing the way her eyes glaze over at the praise.
“Next lesson–multitasking. Now, when you’re getting fucked real good, right, you’ve got a nice cock inside you, stroking nice and deep, hitting those nice spots and that’s fine, but the ones who know what they’re doing, they do a little extra, don’t they baby?” He looks at his partner next to him, gently stroking the pussy in front of him with his thumb, making sure she stays nice and stimulated while he teaches. He receives an animated nod in return and continues, “that’s right. If they’re worth their salt in bed, they’re hitting all the good spots, inside and out. This is no different, baby. We’re going to start outside first. Watch me, then you take a turn, ok?” He doesn’t wait for her response before he dives in.
Tommy turns his head ever so slightly to the side, making sure the camcorder can see his tongue when he eventually moves it through her. He uses the hand not holding back her thigh to spread the lips of her cunt open further for him with his forefinger and thumb. He leans down all the way, leaving a kiss to the whole of her, before his tongue flicks out and licks a wide stripe from just above her hole to her pulsing clitoris, tongue contracting and flicking firmer as it passes over the sensitive nub. He earns a moan from her in response and repeats the motion again and again, lapping at her cunt like a cat getting the sweetest cream. He moans at the tangy taste of her, of pussy, the flavor incomparable to anything else he’s ever tasted and he loves this, the carnal delight of sex. He gives a final lap and kisses her clit as a parting gift before passing the reins to his partner.
“Alright, sweetheart, you ready for a turn?” She nods eagerly, pupils blown wide, mouth lush and swollen with arousal. Tommy moves over a little, giving her room to get situated. He removes her hand from the other woman’s thigh, giving her the comfort of having both hands to work with for her first time. Their partner lets her leg fall from where it was being held and instead opens up at her hip, resting it in a frog-like position with her knee on the bed, letting her calf and foot rest on the other woman’s upper back. Good girl, thank you, he thinks, making quick eye contact with her and in silent communication.
Hesitantly, she leans down, doing just what Tommy showed her, spreading pussy lips open with her thumbs and licking gently, first along the plush softness of her inner lips, just tasting, feeling it out. The whine her exploration earns must spur her on, because she dives in with abandon then, gathering her viscous wetness direct from the source and bringing it with her before lathing her tongue over her clit again and again, lapping and swirling, moaning into it, both women losing themselves in the pleasure of the moment, unworried about the sounds emanating from their throats.
“There you go, baby, doing such a good job. Such a quick learner. You like that? You like eating pussy?” His mouth is filthy, egging her on, watching as she whines into it and nods her head. He laughs at that, “Alright, now, come up for air, got more to teach ya.” She pulls away, taking a few labored breaths, mouth shiny, corners turned up into a pleased grin, and he can’t help but to pull her in, share a deep, slick kiss, get his second helping from her tongue.
Tommy resumes his earlier position between their partner’s thighs, giving the one in his grasp a sweet kiss. He turns back to his student and continues his instruction. "Now, if you really wanna make her sing, you gotta multitask, get your fingers in her while your tongue works on the outside. Watch, here,” he looks down at the messy, open cunt in front of him and slides his index finger inside gently, letting a guttural groan leave his throat at the feel of her. She’s hot, soaking wet, and tight. This is going to be so much fun, he thinks to himself. He gives her a few slow pumps, watching her like a hawk, making sure she’s feeling good and relaxed before he pulls his finger out, offering it to his bed neighbor and she opens immediately, welcoming it into her mouth and sucks the now familiar milky slickness clean.
“Mmm, good girl, baby, thanks for cleaning me up. Sugar, you ok to take another?” He checks in.
“Yes, yes, please, more, Tommy,” she responds eagerly.
“Happy to oblige,” he smiles before getting back to work. He slides in his first two fingers together this time, letting her unfurl her muscles and pull him inside, holds steady for a moment, leaving kisses on her thighs, the top of her mound, nosing at her curls. Once he feels her totally relaxed, he starts to withdraw, shallowly at first, before pumping back inside slowly. He steadily adds length to each stroke, until she’s easily taking all of his thick, long fingers without resistance. The sounds reverberating through the room are obscene. Pussy absolutely squelching, moans unabashed as he hits her just right every few strokes, then he adds more.
He drops her leg, letting her open for him like she did for their partner, giving him access to his other hand. He uses his newfound freedom to curve above where his face hovers and pulls back the little flap of skin hooding her sweet clitoris. He leans his face down and points his tongue, pressing firmly, directly onto her fully exposed button for a second before flicking it at a rapid pace up and down, back and forth, all the time never ceasing his movements inside her.
“Tommy, Tommy, fuck I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” she nearly shouts, feeling her tense, squeezing his fingers like a vice, before she releases, walls of her cunt pulsating in time with the pounding of her heart, slickness coating down to his palm.
“There you go, sugar. Gorgeous when you fall apart,” he praises. “You ok to keep going, or you need a break?”
She sits up, phone forgotten for a moment, dropping it to her side while she answers, “Give me like 30 seconds. I wanna do that again, with her this time,” she points at their partner who is looking at the scene in front of her with poorly concealed awe on her face, never seeing another woman orgasm up close like this before.
“Think we can do that, sugar. You up for it, babygirl?” He turns to check on his other partner.
“Ye–mmh,” she starts, voice thick, before clearing her throat and trying again. “Yeah, yes, please. I would like that very much.”
“Alright, sweetpea, hop on in here. You get stuck, you wanna stop, you need anything, just say, ok? We got you,” he reassures her with his words, clean hand running over her hair gently and down to cup her cheek.
She situates herself between her partner’s thighs and looks up, offering a shy, “Hi, again,” and giggling. Her partner giggles back and waves a little wave. “I’m just gonna…” she starts, and presses in her first two fingers, knowing the feeling of her own cunt, but finding the feeling of another woman’s entirely new at the same time. She starts a slow and easy rhythm, building her confidence with every new sound she drags out of her partner.
“Want to try adding your mouth?” Tommy encourages. She leans down, hovering right over where she’s most wanted, and looks up and makes direct eye contact with the camera in her partner’s hands before she licks. Her partner throws her head back and groans, something deep and real, almost animalistic. She continues, alternating between a pattern of flicking like Tommy and lapping like before, absolutely devouring the juicy pussy in front of her. The loud squish squish squish she’s drawing from inside her cunt causing her own core to pull tight and hot, the liquid of her slicking her nearly to dripping onto the sheets below.
Tommy watches on absolutely rapt. Cock angry at him for not sinking into the nearest tight, hot, wet hole immediately. He staves off his primal desire, giving it a harsh squeeze at the base, tell it to behave a little while longer, the chastity will be worth the reward they have planned.
“God, baby, sugar, so sexy, look so goddamn gorgeous together, sound so gorgeous together, fuck,” he rambles, knowing he doesn’t have long until he needs to come.
He squeezes the base of his cock once more, taking his lower lip between his teeth and bites down hard as he gets lost in the mix of obscene moans coming from his two partners. It’s like a symphony to his ears, (and his cock). He makes the executive decision to remove himself from the scene momentarily and swipes a bottle of water from a nearby table and twists the cap off in a haste.
The mushroom head of his cock is red, angry and engorged as he downs the entire bottle, a few stray drips of water roll down his chin, neck, and between his pecs.
When he makes his way back to the bed, both women are coming down from their highs, bodies slick with a sheen of sweat coating them like a sultry mist. They’re a mess of giggles and praises when Tommy situates himself once more. He presses a warm kiss to the shoulder blade of his bedside partner, nipping playfully with his teeth.
“How are we feelin’, ladies? Can teacher Tommy getcha anything? Refreshments? Need a breather?” His tone is light and carefree, genuine.
His bedside partner who has her cheek resting against the pelvic bone of the other woman, looks over at him with a newfound confident grin. Her face and lips are covered in slick that glistens on her skin. She makes direct eye contact with him briefly before her eyes slowly drift southwards to his cock. She coyly smiles and peers back upwards to him. “Well, there is one thing you could get for me..” she trails off.
He’s proud, it’s written all over his face and he does his best to contain his genuine smile and craft it into a convincing smirk. But it’s moments like these where he’s reminded just how much he loves his job. The reward of a satisfying orgasm is almost always certain, but to see a woman come out of her shell so naturally? Now, that’s a spectacle that he holds onto dearly.
“What is it that you want me to do for you, doll?”
“Teacher Tommy, can you please fuck me while I eat her pretty pussy?” She asks sweetly, eyes glazed over, pussy drunk undoubtedly, but the way she’s eyeing his cock has Tommy nearly combusting right there on the spot.
“You want teacher to fuck you now? Mmm. Think I can manage that, baby. You okay with me goin’ in raw? S’what I prefer, but whatever the lady wants.” He reassures her.
This type of conversation rarely ever takes place in mainstream porn. Most people would end up skipping through to get back to the main event, but Joel’s and Tommy’s viewers were different. They thoroughly enjoyed all the real bits of dialogue and relatable moments.
She giggles and pushes herself up into a sitting position between the other woman’s thighs. “Fuck me raw, please.”
“Atta girl.” He grins and gives the base of his cock a few slow pumps. He’s at the point where he’s hoping, praying that he can last through this without coming too soon. Despite his years of built up stamina, sometimes pussy is just that good.
He watches with hooded eyes as his bedside partner rolls back over onto her stomach, back arched as she dives right back into what Tommy taught her about the art of pussy eating. There’s no hesitation on her end as she laps at the other woman’s clit, eyes fluttering shut as she savors the tangy taste on her tongue.
The bed dips down slightly as Tommy situates himself behind her. His hands slide around her hips, yanking her back towards him in a sudden motion. Her weeping hole is pulsing, pushing out a drool of slick that gathers between her thighs, and he marvels at the sight of it.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous pussy you got, babygirl. Fuckin’ drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets.” He whistles low. “Eatin’ pussy really turned ya on, huh? Mmm. Your little hole is just beggin’ to be fucked.” He rasps and drops one hand from her hip to spread open her thighs further so that he can get a proper look.
“Such a needy lil’ cunt. Fuck. Don’t worry, baby. Teacher Tommy is gonna take real good care of ya, I promise.”
“Please, please, please fuck me, Tommy.” She mumbles against the woman’s cunt, mouth full of pussy. She presses her ass back towards him, desperate to feel the sweet stretch of his cock.
“Alright, alright, darlin.’ I know how eager you are, baby. Trust me, I know.” He chuckles before spitting directly onto his cock. He rubs his saliva in for extra lubrication (not that he needs it) before he notches the head of his cock at her entrance. He’s so painfully hard that he has to press down on it with his thumb to get the angle right as he slowly guides it into her wet warmth. She hugs him like the tightest fucking glove, pulling him in further and further till he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against her ass.
Vulgar, crude, filth tumbles past his lips as her pussy squeezes him like a vice he never wants to part from. He lets out a puff of hot air, before he chuckles, tone deep and raspy, “Jesus fuckin’ christ, doll. This pussy made outta liquid gold or somethin’? Lord have mercy, goddamn.”
Between moans both women couldn’t help but giggle at his comment, but those giggles transformed into cries of pleasure when Tommy almost immediately set a grueling pace, thrusting in and out of her. His skin slapped against hers wildly as the entire length of his impressive cock disappeared and reappeared again. Her jaw went slack and the movements of her mouth on the other woman’s pussy had soon become uncoordinated and messy.
“Don’t you stop eatin’ her pussy on my account, doll. I know how fuckin’ good it feels to have my cock stretchin’ your pussy apart, but c’mon, baby. You can do this.” He encourages her, leaning down with the breadth of his shoulders pressing into her back as he leans over, cock buried so deep inside of her, she can feel the head of him kissing her womb. “Want you to suck her clit into your mouth, babygirl. Remember to be nice n’gentle. It’s a sensitive little thing, and she’s so-so close. Make her come for me, baby, c’mon. Make her come for Teacher Tommy.”
She nods fervently, trying to focus back in on making the other woman feel good, while also enjoying her own pleasure. By god, Tommy Miller has a nice fucking cock, and he sure as hell knows how to use it. She suckles her clit into her mouth as instructed, rolling her tongue over the little pulsing bud. She uses her hands to keep her thighs spread apart when they threaten to close in around her skull.
“That’s it. Good fuckin’ girl.” He growls praisingly. “Makin’ her pussy sing, baby. Makin’ her feel so fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so-so proud. But y’know what would make him even prouder, babygirl? Makin’ her pretty pussy squirt all over your face. C’mon, baby, you and me. Let’s get her there.”
He receives a chorus of enthusiastic “yes, yes, yes, teacher Tommy.”
He grinds his hips deep into her ass before pulling back shallowly and thrusts back in, repeating the pattern as he instructs. “Now to get her there, baby. Y’gotta do somethin’ extra special. Want you to slip your fingers back inside of her, and crook your ‘em inwards. Keep ‘em right there and do that as fast as you can. Drag ‘em n’ shake ‘em just right while you suckle on that sweet lil’ clit, and she’ll really sing for ya then.” His southern twang is thick and raspy, his own orgasm impending, but he’ll be damned if he comes too soon.
She obeys enthusiastically as she remembers just how Tommy taught her how to eat her out and finger her at the same time. She slips two fingers inside of her pulsing hole, scissoring them open before she crooks them inwards, right against that soft, spongy warm spot. She curls them at a rapid quick pace while she sucks on her clit just like she did before. The other woman wails and keens her hips forward into her face, chanting her name as her fingers grip her head tightly, nails scraping her scalp.
“O—oh—oh fuck!” She cries out, throwing her head back, “I’m gonna cum! Oh god, don’t stop! Please, please, please!” She sees stars behind her eyes as white hot pleasure shoots from the top of her spine and down to the tips of her toes.
“Come for us, sugar. C’mon, soak her fuckin’ face!” Tommy’s voice is commanding, dominant as his own carnal need for release seeps in, and they get a little taste of what Brazzer’s era Tommy was like for a moment.
The three of them come at nearly exactly the same time, orchestrated by the maestro himself. There’s a shared moment of real vulnerability as they let themselves go. He shoots hot ropes of his cum into her pussy from behind when he hears the telltale hiss of liquid shoot out of their sweet sugar, giving her a taste of the divine nectar for the first time. Her cunt milks him fucking dry, her orgasm fluttering for a long moment after the first handful of tight squeezes, and when he slowly begins to slip out, his cock is gleaming in a creamy mixture of both of their releases.
When she finally comes up for air, she’s coated in the other woman’s release and the space between her face and the other woman’s pussy is positively drenched.
Tommy preens at the sight, gently pulling the woman he was fucking up into a sitting position as she falls back against his hard chest. He kisses all over her face, tilting her head to the side so he can chase her lips and taste their partners cum on his tongue. “Did so good, baby. So-so fuckin’ good. M’so proud.” He kisses the tip of her nose before his attention is drawn to their other partner. “Let’s go and give her a well deserved cuddle, shall we, babygirl?” He wiggles his brows playfully as she reaches up to push back his sweaty, messy black curls that have fallen over his face.
They move in a languid motion to settle against either side of the other woman who appears to be in a post-orgasmic haze when she feels two pairs of soft, wet, lips peppering endearing kisses up her arms and to her face.
She giggles, eyes peeking open, glazed over as Tommy gently cups her face and strokes her cheekbone with his thumb.“Did so fuckin’ good for us, sugar. So fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so proud of his star students.” he preens.
She lets out a pleasant sigh, and stretches her legs out, causing her pussy to squelch from the movement, and they laugh at the sound. “That was fucking incredible.” She finally says, catching her breath as Tommy’s free hand slowly wanders down between her thighs. When she feels his fingers drag through her folds, her hips jolt up against his hand and she lets out a soft yelp of surprise.
He chuckles and says, “Easy now, sugar. Jus’ wanted to see the mess you made s’all.” he rasps warmly.
“Jesus, dude!” She laughs and swats at his hand. “I’m fucking sensitive!”
He laughs again, withdrawing his hand and lets it rest on her hip instead. He feigns disappointment as their other partner tucks herself up around her side, draping her arm across her middle. “So does that mean you don’t want my cock?” He teases and she giggles.
“Fuck. I think I’m spent, Teacher Tommy,” she jokingly tacks on the nickname. “Maybe next time?”
“S’alright, sugar. Teacher Tommy understands. And besides, I think it’s snack time anyway. Y’all good with eatin’ out?” He coyly winks at the camera and the girls groan and roll their eyes. “What?! I meant orderin’ pizza s’all.”
Joel is working in his office, the door left open in case anyone needs him. He’s updating their channel page when he hears the familiar sound of Tommy’s footsteps approaching. Tommy is a repeat offender of strolling around the studio naked after a scene, so Joel doesn’t even look away from the screen, just hollers from his seat to avoid being confronted with the image of his brother’s bare cock and balls.
“Boy, if you don’t put on some fuckin’ pants...” He scolds with a tight shake of his head.
The younger Miller brother scoffs playfully and fights the urge to roll his eyes, “What? I just needed to grab my wallet! We're ordering pizza, you want anything?"
Joel pauses his typing as he leans back in his chair before saying, “Yeah, for you to put on some fuckin’ pants, you imbecile.”
“Cool, cool, so extra sausage?” Tommy teases and Joel threatens to throw his pen at him.
“No, you fuckwad. Pepperoni.” He emphasizes, “and none of that thin crust shit, Tommy. I’m serious.”
"I keep tellin' ya, Joel, just give the sausage another chance! You might actually like it!" He winks. “Speakin’ of giving things a chance, I had a proud teachin’ moment back there! Taught one of ‘em to properly eat pussy, and my god, she did fantastic! Even made her squirt!”
“Tommy, I tried it, and I didn’t like it, and I ain’t ever gonna like it.” He huffs before a grin begins to tug on the corner of his lips. “S’that so? Sounds like y’all had a party. Good job, little brother.”
“Oh, we had a party alright. Anyway, extra sausage, and super fuckin’ thin crust, anythin’ else?”
“I swear to god—” Joel threatens but Tommy is quicker than that so before Joel can throw his pen directly at his head, Tommy takes off down the hall gleefully.
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Group Therapy
Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Tommy Miller
Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading! 🤍
Summary: Frankie Morales & Tommy Miller are both sent to a veteran’s support group by their doctors where they meet and become friends. Both men take a liking to you, the group therapist. And instead of getting angry with each other Tommy comes up with a fun little idea after therapy one night.
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent for both TLOU & TF (no outbreak and Frankie moves to Texas, not Florida), age gap (Frankie is in his early 40’s & Tommy is in his late 40’s, Reader is in her 20's), this is a hipaa-less land ok, drinking, threesome, fingering, oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, semi public sex, creampie, pet names (darlin', sweetheart, good girl, dirty girl), slight degradation, no use of y/n
“I recommend going to therapy. There’s a support group for veterans at the baptist church downtown. It’s in the basement.”
Therapy? Really?
Frankie sighs. Therapy is not really his thing. At least the one his doctor is suggesting is with a group. That way he can attend the meeting and coast by, just listening to other people’s problems and indulging in refreshments after. They usually have cookies at these things, right?
“Mr. Morales?” the doctor asks, snapping Frankie from his thoughts.
Frankie sighs, “When is it?”
“Wednesday nights from six to seven thirty.”
It’s already Tuesday, Frankie thinks to himself. Another sigh.
“Fine.”
-
Churches make Frankie uncomfortable now. He was raised Catholic as a kid but after everything life has thrown at him, he’s not sure what he believes anymore.
He walks down the steps into the rather institutionalized looking basement of the church, a stark contrast from the ornate interior of the upstairs. He scans the room for an open seat. And of course the chairs are arranged in a circle because why wouldn’t they be?
He picks a seat off to the side of the circle. And to his delight, it’s right by the refreshments table. He takes a look around the room as he sits down. People of all ages are seated in the circle but there’s an abundance of older men for sure; older than Frankie. He takes a look to his right and sees a man with black hair and a mustache. The man notices Frankie looking and makes eye contact with him. A look of recognition washes over the man’s face even though Frankie’s never met him.
“… Do I know you?” Frankie asks, after a moment of uncomfortable glances.
“No,” the man chuckles to himself, “You’re just the spitting image of my brother, Joel, when he was a little younger, that’s all.”
“Ah, okay,” Frankie says, fidgeting in his seat a little.
“Nervous?”
“Uhh-”
“I was nervous for my first session, too. It’ll get easier.”
“How long have you been coming?”
“This is my third week.”
That makes Frankie feel a little bit better; the fact that it doesn’t take too long to get assimilated here. The uneasiness in his stomach starts to subside, but only slightly.
“I’m Tommy by the way,” the man says, outstretching his hand.
Frankie shakes his hand, noting in his mind that Tommy has a strong handshake; an important judge of a man’s character, of course.
“Uh, nice to meet you. I’m Frankie.”
“What branch were you, Frankie? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Army. You?”
“Same!”
“No kidding,” Frankie says, but before he can continue the session begins.
Two women walk down the steps into the basement before sitting at the head of the circle, presumably the group therapists. One of the therapists clears her throat and starts with, “How has everyone’s week been so far?”
A cluster of various one word answers are thrown into the circle. Frankie looks around the room before stopping his gaze on… you. You look nervous, too; like you feel you don’t belong here.
A judgmental thought crosses Frankie’s mind. These two are gonna console a bunch of traumatized veterans? But he immediately feels guilty for it. Plus, he keeps going back to the lost expression on your face, an expression that betrays your innermost thoughts; you don’t think you’re good enough for this.
The first woman nods and continues, “Well if you’re having a good week so far, keep it up. And if not, maybe we can turn that around. But to start, I just want to introduce some of the new faces here.”
“You might’ve noticed I’m not alone today. I’d like to introduce you to my co-therapist,” she says, followed by your name.
Frankie repeats the name in his mind a few times, deciding he likes the way it sounds. He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until the other woman calls his name.
“I’d also like to introduce Mr. Morales to the group tonight.”
“Frankie’s fine,” Frankie says sheepishly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment.
“Of course. Glad to have you here with us. I’m Gin by the way.”
Frankie mutters a “thank you” and then immediately regrets it. That was dumb. What is he supposed to be thanking her for?
His palms grow sweaty and he presses them on his jeans to dry them, trying to quell his anxiety.
Frankie’s too busy with his own anxiety to notice that Tommy’s looking at you. His eyes scan up and down your form, noticing every detail from the way your legs are crossed, the cut of your shirt revealing a bit of your collarbone, and the slight furrow of your brows. He can tell you’re nervous, too.
Gin leads the session and you sort of stay quiet, just observing her techniques as to how she gets these men to open up. You notice that one person is talking a lot, responding to almost everything anyone says. If there was a way to be a try hard at therapy, he’s succeeding. You know his name is Tommy because before the session started Gin pulled you aside on the stairs and pointed everyone out to you. The group isn’t that big, consisting of only eight men. Gin got the call from Frankie’s doctor yesterday afternoon, notifying her that he’ll be joining. So now your group is a nice even ten, including you and Gin.
You make eye contact with Tommy a few times throughout the session. And every time you do he shoots you a small smirk. You can’t tell if he’s trying to flirt or just being nice. Either way you can’t help but notice how attractive he is, with his dark hair and matching mustache perched above his lips. There’s a sort of playful glimmer in his eyes, too, almost as if he can flirt with you with just a look and nothing more.
Tommy isn’t the only one who caught your eye. Frankie’s sitting next to Tommy and although he looks like a nervous wreck, there’s something endearing about him. Past the nervousness you notice his brown curls peeking out from underneath his baseball cap. He’s a handsome man; a handsome nervous man. All you learn about him is that he was in the army and his nickname was Catfish. Maybe you’ll learn more as he attends more sessions.
Soon enough, the hour and thirty minutes comes to an end. Everyone starts to stand up and gather their belongings. Frankie immediately heads to the refreshments table, taking a small stack of cookies and quickly flees the room. Tommy looks back at you, shooting you one last smile before following Frankie upstairs.
He finds Frankie in the parking lot and walks up behind him, clapping him on the shoulder, startling Frankie a bit.
“Survived your first therapy session!” Tommy says.
“Oh, yeah…” Frankie responds quietly.
“See you next week?” Tommy asks before walking to his truck.
Frankie sighs as if he’s contemplating it and decides, “You know what? Yeah, you will.”
He walks off to his truck and shoots Tommy a wave before getting in and driving away.
Until next week it is.
-
It’s Wednesday again. Frankie spent the whole day dreading therapy tonight. Five forty-five rolls around, it’s time for Frankie to get in his truck and leave. He drags his feet down the driveway, hoping that no unwanted attention will be drawn to him tonight. The drive there he’s fidgeting anxiously, palms growing clammy and sweaty against the leather steering wheel. He pulls into the parking lot and backs to a parking spot that so happens to be next to Tommy’s truck. He shoots Frankie a small wave from his driver’s seat. And now Frankie starts to feel at least a little bit at ease. There’s something warm and inviting about Tommy that Frankie noticed. Maybe it’s because he’s somehow got the hang of this therapy thing after only three weeks. Maybe he could ask him how he does it over a beer after a therapy session. Maybe.
“So last week didn’t scare you off?” Tommy jokes as they both get out of their trucks.
“Not yet,” Frankie jokes back, offering a small, weakened laugh.
“Proud of ya, Fish,” Tommy nods.
And with that, they head into the church and down to the institutionalized, mundane basement. They sit next to each other again just like the week before and watch the others shuffle in. And then both sets of eyes fixate on you; you and the way your hips sway as you walk down the steps, holding your head up a little bit higher than last time. Maybe you’re starting to get the hang of this, too.
You and Gin take your seats at the top of the circle and begin this week’s session. Frankie finds himself transfixed on the way you’re able to make him feel seen and heard, even with the little details he offers tonight, not quite ready to share everything yet. You do the same for the others, nodding your head when they tell you stories and offering sympathetic glances. He feels a little jealous when you do that for anyone else. But… why? Isn’t this your job?
Perhaps it’s because there’s something else there. Wait no, that’s stupid. It’s his second day of therapy and he’s falling for this therapist?
Get a grip, Frankie, he tells himself.
Tommy noticed the way Frankie looks at you, because he was doing the same last week. And the two weeks before Frankie joined. Is he jealous? Nah, he gets it. He just smirks to himself and stares down at his boots planted on the floor.
The hour and thirty minutes flies by. And Frankie’s almost sad it’s over, emphasis on almost. While he could stare at your pretty face all night, he can’t talk about his feelings and his trauma all night.
He helps himself to some cookies at the refreshment table again, a feeble reward for finishing another session, before heading up the stairs. His gaze is locked on you until you’re out of view, almost tripping up the stairs since he didn’t watch where he was going.
And Tommy watches all of this unfold and quietly chuckles to himself.
He’s got it bad, he thinks to himself.
Maybe he could help Frankie out.
In the parking lot Tommy finds Frankie walking back to his truck.
“Hey,” he calls out softly, not wanting to startle him.
Frankie turns around, mid bite into a cookie, and looks at Tommy with an eyebrow raised.
“You wanna get a drink next door at the Legion next door?” Tommy asks, pointing at the American Legion next to the church with his thumb.
It’s like Tommy read Frankie’s mind. He swallows the bite of the cookie he has in his mouth and says, “Sure” before walking next door with Tommy.
Over two bottles of Miller Lite Frankie thinks that Tommy’s going to give him tips about overcoming anxiety in therapy but the reality is… he couldn’t be more wrong.
“I saw you looking at her,” Tommy says nonchalantly.
“Huh?”
“You know who I’m talking about. Can’t say I blame ya. Been doing the same thing myself since I first started coming.”
“Oh, if you were interested in her first I’ll back off,” Frankie says sheepishly.
“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying at all brother.”
“So then what are you saying? I thought you asked me to get a beer to give me tips about getting rid of the stress of therapy,” Frankie says, unsure of what Tommy’s motive is.
“Oh, I have something that will get rid of your stress alright.”
“And that is?”
“Keep an open mind, okay?”
“Uhh-”
“A threesome.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m being serious, Fish.”
“Isn’t this crossing some sort of boundary?”
“We’d all be consenting adults.”
“So what do you suggest we do? How does one approach their therapist for a threesome?”
“Let me do all the talking.”
“That’s a given.”
“We’ll approach her next week after therapy, okay?”
Frankie sighs. This is such a bad idea. But he’s also not saying no.
“Fine. But if this goes badly you’re finding us another therapy group.”
“Deal.”
-
What both men don’t know is that you’re catching onto both of them. As you and Gin are packing up the leftover cookies while Frankie and Tommy are grabbing a beer, Gin says to you, “Tommy and Frankie are so into you. I saw the way they were looking at you.”
“What? No they weren’t!” you say, shocked that she’d say such a thing.
“They were! And I’m not saying they’re into you but I’m also not not saying they’re into you,” she says as you two walk up the stairs and into the parking lot.
“Do with that what you will,” she finishes with a small smirk before walking to her car.
Maybe she’s right.
-
The past two therapy sessions were nothing compared to tonight. Frankie’s more nervous than ever. And not even for the actual therapy. Tonight Tommy’s gonna propose his plan to you. And Frankie is scared shitless for your response. He doesn’t even know how he’s gonna go about asking you. How does one ask their therapist to have a threesome? Because Frankie doesn’t have a clue.
Somehow the basement feels smaller than ever. Frankie can’t even look at the refreshments table without feeling like he’s going to gag. His gaze bounces back and forth between Tommy, you, and the floor. But somehow Tommy is maintaining his ever cool demeanor, leaning back in his hair with his legs slightly spread apart, head cocked to the side with a slight smirk on his face.
And you’re going along with it, leaning fully into the idea of both men being attracted to you. And they both present their attraction to you so differently. Tommy is confident, never faltering his eye contact with you, his body language confident and flirtatious. Frankie, on the other hand, can barely bring himself to look you in the eye. The poor thing is a nervous wreck. And when he does look at you, a flustered expression washes over his face. You can’t decide which one you like more.
Therapy wraps up and normally you and Gin stick around after to talk. But this time she quickly helps put the room back together before leaving, shooting you a wink as she walks up the stairs.
Eventually the others shuffle out and it’s just you, Tommy and Frankie in the basement. The men both approach you but Frankie lets Tommy take the lead as they both discussed the week prior.
“Hey there, darlin’. We were just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink with us next door.”
Frankie winces at the nickname and in anticipation of your response. But to his surprise you say yes without missing a beat. And before Frankie knows it the three of you are heading next door to the American Legion.
Sitting at a table in the corner you, Frankie and Tommy have a couple rounds of beer. As you drink you notice Frankie starts to loosen up for once. The alcohol cuts the tension and the small talk opens him up, all thanks to Tommy’s lead.
Eventually, the conversation hits a lull and Tommy clears his throat. For a beat he looks nervous, too. But it goes away almost instantly when he talks.
“So darlin’, my friend over there has been dealing with some stress regarding therapy.”
“Completely understandable,” you say.
“I was thinking you might have a way you could help him.”
“Oh?”
A smirk graces his face. It doesn’t take long for you to pick up what he’s putting down.
“Me and him?” you ask, gesturing to Frankie.
“Me, you, and him,” Frankie says quietly.
“Oh,” you say, eyes widening.
“Right now?” you ask after a moment of contemplation.
“Eager little thing, aren’t ya?” Tommy chuckles.
“Where would we do it here?” you ask.
“I’m sure this place has loads of rooms,” Tommy says, “I’ll go look first,” he continues, before getting up and walking down the hallway across the room.
After a moment you see him appear at the end of the hallway, motioning for you and Frankie to come over.
“One at a time?” you ask, looking back at Frankie.
He nods nervously and you get up to meet Tommy in the hallway. After a moment Frankie joins you, the three of you standing in front of a door.
“Found just the place,” Tommy says, opening the door and going into the room.
It’s a large room, full of folded up tables and chairs. Tommy closes the door after you and Frankie go in, and thankfully it locks.
“They must use this room for parties,” Frankie says.
“This looks like a party to me, huh Fish?”
You can’t help but laugh. This dynamic between the two of them is too good. And it’ll be even better with you sandwiched in between them.
“Let’s unfold one of those bad boys,” you say, pointing to one of the folded up tables.
Tommy and Frankie unfold one of the tables resting against a wall. And you waste no time taking your clothes off. They turn around once they’re done unfolding the table and their mouths fall open, completely gawking at your naked form.
“Now you’re definitely an eager little thing,” Tommy smirks, walking over to you and grabbing you by the waist. He starts by kissing your neck, sinking his teeth into it and nipping hard enough to leave a light mark. His hand trails from your waist down to your thighs, fingertips ghosting the soft flesh. Frankie watches as he kisses your neck and palms your thigh, his cock growing hard and straining against his jeans. You turn your head and look over at him, saying suggestively, “Well aren’t you gonna join us?”
Frankie gulps and walks over to you slowly, positioning himself behind you. He grabs your ass and kisses along your collarbone, on the side of your neck where Tommy isn’t. God, he’s so nervous. But it also feels right, being pressed up against you with his hands all over your body.
Tommy sinks his hand between your thighs and you part your legs a little, just enough for his fingers to graze your cunt.
“So wet already, darlin’. Bet you got wet just by looking at us back there in the church, huh?”
He’s not entirely wrong. You moan in response as he presses a finger against your clit, swirling around it tenderly.
Frankie moves up your collarbone to your neck and then up to your ear, nipping the love with his teeth before tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. Your knees buckle due to the different spots of stimulation happening all over your body.
“Let’s get you on the table, darlin’,” Tommy chuckles, walking you over to the table with Frankie.
You situate yourself on top of it, feeling the cool plastic against your warm back, the front of your body peppered with goosebumps as you await more touch. Tommy takes some of your wetness between his fingertips, rubbing them together and pulling them apart, your wetness stretching and following the moment of his fingers. He places them in his mouth, tasting your juices and moistening his fingers for you. He slides one finger in slowly just as Frankie starts to play with your nipples. He takes them between his index finger and his thumb with light pressure, watching the way your breasts move as you breathe deeper.
“Harder,” you tell him softly, needing more.
He pinches your nipples harder, eliciting a moan from you and a chuckle from Tommy.
“Play with her body, Fish. Find out what she likes,” Tommy says as he adds a second finger.
Frankie listens to Tommy and lowers his head by your breast, this time taking a nipple in his mouth. You arch your back at the dual stimulation, both men pulling the deepest moans from you.
Frankie releases your nipple with a pop and brings his face by your ear, “Gotta be careful, sweetheart. Don’t want them to hear us, do we?”
You nod, looking him deep in the eyes when he pulls his head away from your ear, in disbelief at what you’re doing right now. But the line’s already been crossed and none of you give a shit.
Frankie goes back to sucking your nipple and Tommy curls his fingers upwards against your walls, bringing his thumb to your clit and applying pressure. He marvels at the way your cunt grips his fingers and at how soft and spongy your walls are, feeling like heaven to him. You tighten around his fingers when you get close, in no time at all.
“Gonna come for me, darlin’? Soak my fingers,” he commands.
And you do, soaking his hand down to his wrist. Your orgasm intensified by Frankie’s mouth on your breast. The muscles in your core contract and release erratically before slowing down and stopping. Tommy pulls his hand from you slowly and walks over by your head, showing you the mess you made.
“Good girl,” he says before putting his fingers in his mouth.
“Better get down there and taste her pussy, Fish. She tastes so sweet,” he continues, licking his fingers clean.
Frankie moves down between your legs, kneeling on the floor and hooking his arms around your thighs. He licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt and once he’s had a taste he becomes insatiable, lapping at your wetness like a man dying of thirst. While he eats you out, Tommy stays by your head, caressing your face and talking you through it.
“He’s eating your pussy real good isn’t he, darlin’?”
You can only nod in response.
“I can tell. Look at the way you’re squirming. Dirty girl getting her pussy eaten in a public place.”
Oh fuck. You’re already getting close to the edge again, thanks to Frankie’s work on your cunt. The way he eats you is indescribable; some of the best you’ve ever had, if not the best.
Frankie pushes two fingers in your cunt, desperate to try and get you to squirt for him. And this is when you start seeing stars, back arched completely and the feeling too good to even be remotely quiet. And then you cum, hard and wet. Frankie was successful, your own release soaking the table underneath you as Frankie licks your cut coming down from its high.
“Good girl,” Tommy says, looking at the mess you made.
Frankie stands up and hastily takes his cock out of his jeans. Tommy does, too, before bringing a hand back to your face and saying, “You ready, darlin’? We’re gonna take good care of you.”
Tommy and Frankie share a glance, like they both understand Tommy will get your mouth and Frankie will get your cunt. You nod and get ready for Tommy’s cock in your mouth. He holds your hair and eases it in, letting your jaw get adjusted. Meanwhile Frankie spreads your wetness on his cock and slides into your cunt. You knew he’d be big but it literally feels like he’s splitting you apart, his cock expanding your walls with each of his trusts. The table creaks and makes noises against the force of Frankie’s thrusts, all while Tommy fucks your mouth, both your cunt and mouth feeling completely full.
“You like taking two cocks at once, dirty girl?” Tommy says looking down at you, his pupils blown wide.
You hum with a “Mhm” and Tommy curses under his breath at the vibration. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as Frankie fucks you deeper and deeper, the head of his cock grazing your cervix. He licks his thumb and brings it to your cunt. You’re not gonna last much longer. Your walls tighten up around his cock, getting rest for a big release. With one last thrust of his cock and swirl of his thumb on your clit, you’re coming and coming hard, crying out at the feeling.
Your cries trigger Tommy’s orgasm, his hands gripping your hair tighter and his head thrown back in pleasure. He spills his cum down your throat and you swallow all of it before he takes his cock out, letting you catch your breath.
He stands back and puts his cock away, telling Frankie, “She’s all yours now, Fish. Wreck that little pussy.”
And with that Frankie fucks you roughly, with so much force like he’s letting out his stress, frustration, and anger. A dark look washes over his face and it’s so fucking hot, like he’s using you; like you’re just a toy to him.
You cum again, just as hard if not harder than the last one. Your whole body tingling, starting at your core and spreading outwards. And when you cum, Frankie cums, too, his cum painting your insides. He slows his thrusts before slowly pulling out of you and catching his breath.
You sit up after a month and catch your breath, too, still in bliss of the moment but also realizing that you were probably in this room for a very long time and that you need to leave. You move to get off the table and Frankie helps you to your feet, while Tommy grabs your clothes. They help you get dressed since you’re truly spent.
“Good girl,” Frankie says, kissing the top of your head once you’re dressed.
“See? All that stress melted away thanks to you, darlin’,” Tommy chuckles, walking to the door.
“One at a time,” he says. You and Frankie nod. Tommy leaves first followed by you then Frankie. On the walk through the Legion and to the parking lot you keep your gaze averted to the floor, because people are definitely suspicious.
Tommy and Frankie walk you back to your car in the church parking lot but before they leave you Tommy says, “Same time next week?”
“Sounds good to me,” Frankie says, not missing a beat.
“Deal,” you laugh before getting in your car and driving away.
Group therapy has a whole new meaning.
End note: Let me know if you’d like to see anymore Tommy and Frankie content from me!! Either separately or in this little threesome lmao
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The War Within - Part One
Briefly Joel x Neurodivergant Reader Then Tommy x Neurodivergant wife reader
Summary: You've only been with Joel for 6 months when the outbreak happens, flipping your entire life into a hell scape. Feeling backed into a corner and completely suffocated by life you decide to join the Fireflies with Tommy after a heartbreaking event to search for a better life and the two of you end up in Jackson
A twist of fate happens and you and Tommy Fall in love and get married when Joel and Ellie turn up in Jackson one day and you have to face him all these years later
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Angst- Lots of it, Verbal fighting- lots of it , course language, emotional, some fluff and happiness, talks of anxiety, depression, Panic attacks, Neurodivergant reader. No use of y/n. Reader goes by the nickname Birdie. Use of typical pet name.
A/N: I hope you all love this new multi part journey I've been working on, I'm extremely proud of this story. I understand that this storyline/ themes aren't for everyone. Part Two will be out shortly.
More often then not you felt like you were outside of your body, floating above it.
Being a spectator to your own life, watching as your dissociative cocoon wrapped itself around you taking hold.
You found yourself in this position for days or weeks at a time. It was your body’s way of protecting itself after years of constantly being in fight or flight mode.
You looked on as you desperately tried to hold on to what little you had left, to your life with Joel. But it was like trying to hold on to a wet rope in the middle of a tsunami. Slowly losing your grip you began to drown, fighting desperately to stay above water. The more you tried to kick to the surface, the more tired you became and the more tired you became the less you fought to stay afloat.
Time dragged on, the air had a thickness to it you’d not yet felt. Everything sounded slow and muffled as you tried to make sense of why and how long you two had been fighting for.
“Are you even listening to me?” Joel pressed, getting more aggravated by the minute.
He got nothing as you blankly stared back him, eyes glazed over.
“Unbelievable…. I should be looking after Sarah, not looking after you”
Joel’s words snapped you back to reality. the fog that incased you not thick enough to protect you from the verbal blow as it struck you, deep and abrupt.
Your whole body burned, the tears started falling so quickly that you had no hope of stoping them even if you tried. The two of you often hastily said things to each other in the heat of the moment when you both reached the point of overstimulation. Things that neither of you meant. But this, this felt different. You knew the tone of Joel’s voice well, always able to understand his meaning by the tone of his voice. His tone was razor sharp, with an anger behind it that he had never used with you before.
“This is why we can’t talk things out like this, why nothing gets resolved. Because you cry every-time we have a argument”
“Are you fucking kidding me Joel?” You shout. Completely losing all ability to keep it in.
“Im sorry I care, that I’m emotional. Trust me I would much rather feel nothing 24/7 than to feel everything as if it’s a electrical currant passing through me, but I can’t. No matter how fucking hard I try I’m always going up be sensitive and emotional.”
“The state of the world doesn’t exactly lend its self to being emotional, one wrong move when your heads not focused could cost someone there life. You- you get stuck in these episodes and it’s like your not in your body anymore, I can’t keep keepin an eye on us both. You’re gonna get us killed one of these days.”
It hurts like hell, but it’s the truth and deep down you know it. But it doesn’t make you any less hurt and angry because it’s the truth either.
“I’m sorry Joel. I’m sorry that I should of died instead of Sarah, I’m sorry that no matter what I do I’ll never be enough for you.”
Your admission stuns Joel, your words cutting him like a straight blade razor. You’d never said anything like that about yourself, atleast not out loud you hadn’t.
“I can’t fucking talk to you when we’re like this. I’m going out” Joel exclaims while grabbing his coat.
“Wait, it’s almost curfew, where are you going?” You ask, everything but concern draining from your body.
“I don’t know? I’m just fucking going out, don’t wait up for me” Joel says as he slams the door
“I love you” you shout after him, but if falls on deaf ears.
You cried in silence, thinking about what had lead you to this point. You and Joel never had the chance to truly be happy. Your relationship was so new when the outbreak happened that it was doomed from the start. You two never had the chance to fully open up to each other
It wasn’t all his fault either, Joel was hardened by the cruel bitch that was the universe when it took the one thing he loved more than life itself. You also knew you weren’t easy to deal with, never getting the opportunity to talk to Joel about your anxiety and depression that stemmed from it. About how to spot if you were getting overstimulated and anxious and how to help talk you down from it. Or about how much you relied on a schedule and a routine to navigate life and how much progress you’d made with it all in therapy. Instead you were both thrust into a situation you didn’t have the tools to deal with and thus your relationship suffered at the hands of it.
The further past curfew it got the more you worried about Joel. It terrified you to think about the situations that would unfold if he was caught by Fedra. Dressing in all dark clothing you decided to go out searching for Joel.
Lurking in the shadows for hours you search for Joel, checking every inch of the qz and the seedy areas people hangout after curfew with no luck. The sun will start coming up soon, so you head back to the apartment hoping Joel managed to stumble back there unscathed.
You hear some commotion inside as you reach your apartment door. Slowly opening the door you feel like the wind got knocked out of you when you see Joel burred deep inside Tess, telling her how much he loved her. You stumble backwards as you try to catch your breath, refusing to believe you’re actually seeing this. But the scene before you never changes and your forced to realize this is unfolding in front of your eyes. Silently scrambling you grab your emergency go bag by the door and shut it behind you.
Your mind is racing as you slid down the wall and slump over. Gasping for breath you try desperately to comprehend what you saw, trying think quickly about what to do.
——————————————————————
Tommy springs awake at the sound of frantic knocking on the door. Creeping up slowly to the door, pistol in his hand.
“Who is it?”
“I-it’s me…it’s Birdie” your voice meek and distraught, tone barely above a whisper.
Tommy quickly unlocks the door to find you on the other side, eyes bloodshot and and desperate. Your body langue is defeated as Tommy notices your backpack.
“C-can I come in?” You ask, a hoarseness to your voice. Your eyes trained on the ground.
“Birdie, what’s wrong? Everything alright?” His face etched with concern as he looks you over.
“ Is- is there any way to join the fireflies quickly. To- to be able to leave the QZ with you guys tonight?”
“You get Joel to join the fireflies?”
“No n-not Joel, for me..just me” you shake your head. Your voice shakes as you speak. Your head hung low, eyes glued to your feet.
“Look at me Birdie” Tommy says gingerly, cupping your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.
“Did he hurt you? He didn’t hit you did he?” He asked in a firm but calm tone while turning your face side to side to check for visible marks.
Tommy didn’t believe Joel was capable of laying a hand on you like that but he needed to make sure. His brother had become more angry and violet over the years. Drinking more and pushing home made drugs to some of the fedra guards and he was starting not to recognize the man Joel was becoming.
You shook your head.
“Hurt me yes, hit me no. We’ve been hurting each other for to long and I just can’t handle it anymore. I- I can’t live like this anymore and the two if you are the only people I trust.”
“Does he know your leavin’?”
“If they will let me go I’ll go in slip a note I wrote under the door. If not i don’t know what I’ll do”
“Let’s go talk to them. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on between the two of you but I’m not leavin you here like this, but I’m also not going to press you about what’s goin’ on if you don’t want to talk about it”
“ I’ll talk about it eventually Tommy I just can’t talk about it right now much less think about it, I’m just in to much pain”
————————————————————
It’s nearly dusk when Joel wakes up, rolling over to wrap his arm around you.
“I don’t want to fight like that anymore baby girl” Joel says as he nuzzles into your neck, but his eyes snap open the moment he realizes somethings off, that you scent is different. That’s when realizes the grave mistake he made when he sees it’s Tess in your bed and not you.
“What the fuck is going on” Joel shouts while pushing himself out of bed.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Birdie?”
“You didn’t seem to be complaining a couple hours ago that she wasn’t here”
It’s in this moment as Joel feels the color drain from his face that he’s made a detrimental mistake. That he hadn’t been with you at all last night, that it wasn’t you when he’d finally said I love you.
Joel immediately starts putting his boots on to go looking for you. His motions panicked and scrambled.
“You heard me, I said get the fuck out and don’t come back”
As Joel slams the door he hears paper crinkle under his boot, he steps back to see a folded piece of paper with his name on it just inside the door. He unfolds it yo find a note from you.
Dear Joel,
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the pain and frustration I’ve caused you over the years. The way we’ve been living isn’t healthy for either of us and just can’t stomach it any longer. You don’t deserve to be worried about both of us constantly because I can’t handle life in the dystopian universe well. You said if anything were to ever happen to go to Tommy that he take care of me so rest easy knowing that right up until the end I listened to you. I’ve joined the fire flies with him and by the time you see this we will have left the QZ in search of a better living situation. Tommy will message you here and there on the radio. You and Sarah will always have a place on my heart.
Love,
Birdie
Anger and failure blend together in a unrelenting weight on Joel’s chest as he flips the kitchen table over, papers flying everywhere, glass breaking.
—————————————————————-
About 10 years later
Tommy is up on the scaffolding when he hears the unmistakable tone of his brothers voice
“Tooommmyyyy”
Tommy runs down the stairs as Joel’s jumps from the horse he’s on and the share in a tight embrace.
“The fuck you doin here?”
“I came to save you guys”
Tommy and Maria take Joel and Ellie into the mess hall for a meal. As Tommy’s taking his coat and gloves off he slips his ring into his pocket, not ready to tell Joel that the two of you are in love, that you’d gotten married. Not wanting to have the conversation in front of everyone. Emotions swirl around Tommy’s head, on one hand he’s happy to see his brother on the other hand fear and resentment in not knowing what kind of person his brother is these days.
“I trust the two of you would like some time alone, I’ll take Ellie up to the house to shower and set her up with clothes and then take her to the town movie night” Maria says
“It’s ok Ellie you can go with her, it’ll be alright”
“ Tommy a word in private before you do so?”
“Is Birdie going to be alright?”
“I think she’s going to be a bit shaken, she has therapy tonight and I know she’ll be home right now unwinding so she won’t just bump into him. Imma make sure she knows tonight that he’s here.”
—————————————————————
“It doesn’t look like you’ve aged much” Joel says taking a seat at the bar of the tipsy bison, nervously smoothing his hand over it.
“You on the other hand” Tommy offers.
“Is she here? Is Birdie alive?” Joel asks nervously
“Yes she’s here in Jackson”
“Where is she? I want to see her” Joel presses
“Now slow down Joel, ya can’t just waltz in here and demand to see her”
“ The fuck I can’t! You ain’t her keeper. I have the right to see her”
“I’m not her keeper nor am I trying to be, all I’m trying to say is she’s made a lot of progress since we’ve been here. Her health and well being has improved 10 fold thanks to therapy.”
“Therapy?”
“One of our residents here used to be a therapist before the outbreak so we built her a place to practice out of and birdie goes every week like she did before the outbreak”
“She went to therapy before? I didn’t know that”
“And I suppose you never asked either”
Tommy’s comment gets under Joel’s skin. Bringing up resentment that had be just below the surface.
“So what’s this have to do with you tellin’ me I can’t see Birdie?”
Tommy let’s out a frustrated huff at Joel’s pressing. He doesn’t want to argue with his brother, they havnt seen each other in so long the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight. But Tommy’s one and only goal is protecting you and he will be as harsh as he has to be to get Joel to understand, even if he doesn’t like the answers.
“Because Joel you just arrived with a mystery kid, she has no idea your even here. You just turning up at her door with no notice would have her shaken, set back her mental health. She deserves to atleast know your here. To make her own decision on wether or not she wants to see you”
“So what are you really doing out here Joel? What’s with the kid?”
“She needs to go to this firefly base out here so Marlene hired me to bring her out here. And I took the job so I could get out here and save you guys.”
“Why did you think we needed saving?”
“I don’t know Tommy maybe because the two of you guys stopped fucking messaging me back. Because Marlene said you weren’t with the fireflies anymore. It must be because your girl keeps you on a short leash.”
“Maria? It is because of a rule we put In place here but she ain’t my girl. We started having some rough people coming through because they found out about us from radio activity so we had to be more careful and only use it for emergency’s.”
“ Let me show you where you guys will be staying so you can rest, clean up and go to the town movie night if you’d like.”
—————————————————————
Tommy can’t help but smile about the way you look up from your book when he walks through the door, food from the mess hall in his hands.
“Hey baby” you coo, the smile on your face lighting up the room when you see him.
“Hey sweet girl, sorry I’m home a lil late. But I have your favorite, it was Shepards pie night at the mess hall.”
You get up to take the food containers from him, placing them on the counter as he wraps his arms around you.
“How did therapy go to today babe?” Tommy asks as he kisses your temple.
“It went good, just exhausted by it tonight”
After dinner your curled up on the couch with your head in his lap asking him about his day.
“Baby I need to tell you something” Tommy breaths out his voice hardly above a whisper.
“Ok… is everything ok?” You ask starring up at him.
“I’m afraid it’s probably going up upset you” Tommy says rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“What is it Tommy?” You ask as you sit up. Mind racing with what it could be.
“Joel’s here, in Jackson”
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𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝
pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader
genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship
series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.
word count: 4.8k
chapter summary: Your brother comes for a visit and of course, he wants to meet the Millers. Things with Joel come to a boiling point, threatening to pour over.
warnings: joel dissociating, family dynamics, criticizing of war, some angst, arguing, hints of grief, brief mention of parents being emotionally distant, explicit make out scene at the end
a/n: August is the reader's stepbrother, reader still has no physical descriptions. His face claim ended up being Oscar Isaac, ofc you don't have to imagine him that way, but I just wanted to let y'all know lmaodbf I was trying to think of what he should look like and it kinda happened
Chapter Seven || Chapter Nine
Your brother is already sitting on the kitchen stool when you walk in with silent, socked feet. He hears you though. Always does. Perking up, he turns with a smile. Your heart jumps as you notice a magazine in his hand, but realizing it can’t be the one with Joel’s picture in it, you relax, making a beeline to the coffee machine.
“You still like your coffee black?”
“Yup. Just like my wretched soul.”
You shake your head. Smiling, you grind the coffee beans, the sound breaking the peaceful silence of the morning. When you’re done, you turn to him and pour the coffee into the portafilter. You tamp it down.
“Your soul isn’t black.”
“Hmm?” He rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped up on the kitchen counter. A soft smile tugs at his lips, always amused by your rantings. “And what color is my soul?”
“Golden. Sparkly, shiny.”
“You’re just saying that because of my name.”
“Why would Auggie remind me of gold?”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Idiot.” he grins. He leans over and squeezes your cheeks with one hand, hallowing them out. You let out a whine. “Come on now. Say it. Say my actual name and not the one you would call your sheepdog.”
You push out your bottom lip, pouting, you glare at him. He laughs.
“I’m not letting go until you say it.”
“Fine,” you snap, your voice muffled. “August. There, happy? Now let me go, you menace.”
“See, was that so hard?” he lets go and you stumble back. His strength always coming a bit of a shock. You draw your brows together, rubbing your chin. August rolls his eyes. “Why can’t you be normal and just call me Gus if you’re going to be lazy about it.”
“Because it sounds like goose and I don’t like geese. And Auggie sounds cute,” you answer. The hiss of the coffee maker fills the kitchen and you take two mugs from the cabinet. “How’s mom and dad by the way?”
“Not thrilled that you’re here on your own. Living with ghosts.”
Shaking your head, you place a red colored mug in front of him. Your parents had a habit of think you were drowning in melancholy. Which…was true, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be on your own. You’re about to say just that, looking at him but the thin gold chain on his neck reflects the soft morning hue and catches your gaze. Briefly, you stare at it, blinking.
“You’re wearing it again?”
August raises a sole brow, confused, that is until he looks down and realizes what you meant. He licks his lips and smooths his palms over the marble counter.
“Well…no point in being mad at him anymore is there? The old man’s gone.”
“He’d be happy knowing you still care.”
“I always cared,” he snaps with a hint of annoyance. “Need I remind you that pops was the one mad at me. Not the other way around.”
“He was mad because you were throwing your life away,” you level him a serious look and add. “You still are.”
“I don’t want to do this first thing in the morning,” he groans. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like the idea of your big brother with a gun.”
You fill his mug with piping hot coffee. Steam curls into the air. You start warming up milk for yourself, your back turned to him.
“I don’t like the idea of my big brother being shipped off to war on a whim. It’s not a hunting trip. Don’t act like it’s not a big deal.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’ll die.”
You suck in a sharp breath. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. He’s already aware that he can die. You close your eyes and keep them like that. The sounds of the kitchen fade into the background. The sound of a clock echoes in your mind. You remember the last time August was here, in this house. Your grandfather was alive then. The house was full of his voice and scent. Unlike your parents, who were somewhat distant, your grandpa hated the thought of August wasting his potential. Meanwhile, August was trying hard to prove that he didn’t have any potential to waste. You’re not even sure what your big brother does anymore. You stopped asking the day you and him buried your grandpa.
It’s been the two of you for the longest time. Your mother remarried when you were four, August was six. Not having many friends, you were quick to leach on to him, and he seemed happy by that. He was your family, and you were his. Blood didn’t matter. And your grandfather, and grandmother, agreed with the sentiment, never separating the two of you.
You remember when you were still in university, August didn’t tell you he was in the city. And one late night he was on your doorstep. Rain soaked through his shirt and his hair curled at the ends. Your heart breaks when you remember those times. He refused to tell you what happened that night. Later on, you learned he came to meet his mom. The exchange hadn’t gone well.
You jump when you feel a set of hands on your shoulders. The sound of your name follows soon after, it sounds rushed like it had been repeated a couple of times before you heard it.
Everything comes flooding back. The coffee. The milk. Your brother standing behind you.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Christ. Where’s your head at?”
“Shit—” you hiss, seeing that the milk had overflowed. You quickly turn off the stove. “Sorry, sorry. Must’ve zoned out.”
“This is why I said I didn’t want to have this conversation first thing in the morning,” he grumbles, picking up a handful of napkins. “You need to stop worrying about me okay? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t want to constantly fight about this. I’m tired.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You realize your answer is less than ideal but it is what it is. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, fine. You’ll at least make him highly aware of how you feel about it.
After cleaning the stove and finally making yourself a decent cup of coffee, you sigh into the mug. “So what do you want to do during your visit? Sightseeing?”
He chuckles, “Why are you acting like this is my first time here?”
“I don’t know. I feel awkward now. I probably need breakfast.”
“You’re fine,” he answers, booping your nose. Your wrinkle your nose, a soft smile blossoming on your lips. “I’ve seen your paintings, they look good.”
You nod, silently sipping your coffee.
“Any plans on showing them off, or whatever it is that artists do—put them in a museum?”
“Gallery.” you correct him. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not so fun is it? Being questioned?” when you fix him a glare, he grins. “Anyway…I love what you’ve done with the room. About time something changed here.”
You finally crack a proper smile and he quickly follows up with more series of thoughts. With a soft giggle parting your lips, you shake your head.
“Which one was it that helped you?” he asks. “The brothers?”
“Both helped. But the credit has to go to Tommy, he’s the one who came up with the idea.”
“Wise man,” he hums, tongue moving over his teeth thoughtfully. “Was he the one in Desert Storm?”
“Yup,” you answer unenthusiastically, popping your lips at the p.
“When am I going to meet the famous Millers? I want to thank them for helping out my baby sister.”
“Tonight. They’re coming over for dinner.”
Another unenthusiastic response. It’s been almost a week since your date with Tommy, and since you’ve moved out from Joel’s and back into your own. You’ve seen Tommy a bunch after that, but the older Miller not so much. Guilt burrows in your heart. You might’ve been a bit too short with Joel, now that you think about it. His intentions obviously weren’t bad. But that didn’t really matter to you, did it? Your heart skips a beat every time you think of him. And you stared at his picture nearly every night since you returned.
Meanwhile, despite seeing him almost every day whenever he came over to fix up the room, your friendship with Tommy felt…off. Some part of you thinks he knows about your feelings, and Joel’s. He never said anything about it. He hadn’t even mentioned the date, it was like business as usual.
It was just a crush then. It has to be. You and Tommy were close, he was lonely, figured he’d ask you out. Nothing serious. You preferred to think about it that way.
“What are we having?” your brother asks, drawing you away from your, not so fun, thoughts.
“I was thinking chicken.”
Joel holds a bottle of wine in hand and Sarah is holding a tupperware full of homemade brownies. Upon getting the invite, Sarah had been adamant about perfecting her recipe to bring over. Joel was not allowed in the kitchen. Deeming to be a jinx whenever Sarah tried to cook. He had no objections to that. He was more than happy to listen to his daughter hum in the kitchen as he watched TV in the living room.
They walk toward your place with her arm crossed over his. Tommy is getting out of the truck just as they reach the porch. His younger brother meets Joel’s gaze briefly before turning his head, walking up to them. He ruffles Sarah’s hair, greeting them both with a small nod of his head.
“Better get this over then,” Tommy mutters, reaching from between the father and daughter duo to knock on the door.
But before he can, Sarah smacks his hand away. The gesture earns her a solid fix of Tommy’s glare. Joel’s shoulders raise, his eyes nervously flitting between Sarah and Tommy. He’d kept Sarah out of the loop. It felt like the right thing to do. Your dating life should be no concern to her. And as far as Joel was concerned, Sarah wasn’t ready to hear about his love life with another woman.
“Sarah.” Tommy warns, the last syllable of her name bouncing off his grit teeth. “What do you think you’re doin’?”
“You two have been so weird all week,” she chides, the crease between her brows similar to her father’s. “If you’re not going to be nice, you should leave.”
“Dammit Sarah, I—” he lets out a stuttering breath. “Fine. Just knock on the goddamn door.”
It’s instinct. Sarah knocks on the door and at the same time Joel brings a hand down to Tommy’s shoulder. Hard. The younger Miller’s entire body tilts to the side and Joel squeezes, making sure that his fingers make dents into Tommy’s skin. Tommy tenses under Joel’s hold but doesn’t move, he doesn’t even look back at him. He just patiently waits until the door opens, warm, soft light pouring through the door.
Sarah takes the first step, hugging you and handing you the Tupperware. You’re wearing a green dress that hugs your figure perfectly, his mouth floods with saliva. Joel already feels his cock twitching uncontrollably under his jeans. The way you smile is always so bright.
But first things first.
“Don’t you ever snap at my daughter like that again. You hear me, Tommy.” he says in a hushed tone, leaning into Tommy’s ear. Sarah already disappeared inside, and you’re patiently holding the door open for them.
“Your daughter?” he grimaces, taking a step back so the two of them are out of earshot. “You mean my niece? I didn’t do anythin’ Joel. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Tommy takes the lead. He kisses your cheek and mutters pleasantries. Without waiting for Joel, Tommy takes his shoes off, heads to the kitchen. Joel huffs, glaring at his brother’s back.
“Is something wrong?”
Your voice peels him away from his anger, his hands suddenly feel foreign to him. He robotically hands you the wine.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Just brothers being brothers.”
“O…kay then. Well in any case, welcome. Thanks for the wine.”
If Tommy being mad at him isn’t enough, it looks like you’re still frustrated with him as well. You don’t look at him. And the smile you have on is nothing other than polite. It’s a small little curve. The type you would give to a stranger walking past you in the street. He hates it.
Thank god for Sarah. At least she’s not mad at him.
“Don’t mention it,” he mutters, purposefully brushing his arm against yours while passing you by. He hears you letting out a soft sigh. The hairs on his arms stand with delight at the sound.
He enters the kitchen where the dining table is at. Tommy’s already chatting up your brother, and Sarah is dragging her fingers through one of your dried oil paintings. She likes the texture of it, he told him once. The brother’s eyes meet Joel’s and he already feels his muscles growing taut. Tommy follows the brother’s gaze and nods.
Joel nearly jumps when your hand comes around his shoulder. The brother narrows his eyes.
“This is Joel,” you say, giving him a gentle shove. “And you already met Tommy. Joel, this is August. My brother.”
Joel takes in the brother’s appearance. He has sharp, angular cheekbones that give his face a chiseled look, and his intense gaze is accentuated by thick, dark eyebrows. His wavy, dark hair falls messily over his forehead. He has broad shoulders and a defined jawline. He exudes a quiet confidence that draws Joel's attention.
Swallowing multiple times, Joel quickly extends a hand. A weird sense of relief washes over him when August takes it, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, sitting back down. “I heard so much about you.”
“Good things I hope,” Joel grins sheepishly. A blush crawls up from his neck to his cheeks when the other winks. Joel’s gut is telling him that August already knows what’s going on in his head and it’s unnerving.
“They’re all good, don’t worry.” he smiles and pulls out a chair for Joel. “She tells me you two helped her with the room. Well, you have my thanks. I was a bit worried about her moving in here after…” he clears his throat. “I’m sure you know.”
August utters the last sentence with his eyes fixed on Joel. He shudders.
“Auggie, stop making me seem like I’m a damsel in distress. I’m not a child that needs to be taken care of.”
“That you’re not,” August answers. “But everyone needs help sometimes.”
You frown, “Says the man who never accepts it.”
The rest of the evening passes by with soft jazz music in the background and all of them setting the table together, which isn’t a five-man job, but they do it anyway. Sarah is rather bubbly, talking about school and a boy she doesn’t seem to like. He takes a mental note to ask about that later. You listen with interest, checking the rice and mixing the salad. Tommy and August hit it off instantly. Which isn’t at all a shock to him. August laughs at something Tommy says while placing a plate. Joel looks around, his pleading eyes landing on Sarah and you in the kitchen.
Neither of them notices him. He’s left standing awkwardly between kitchen and dining room. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans, gaze dropping to his socked feet.
He doesn’t want to bother anyone, so he slips away to the hall.
Maybe he should’ve asked you first, before going exploring. But he can’t really help it. Joel finds himself in the renovated room. It’s basically done, the room fully painted and bookshelves back in place. You even have a couple of easels holding your latest artwork. He stumbles inside, the conversations fading into the background.
It’s hard not to feel upset. He isn’t sure what he’s doing wrong. At the time, not allowing you to say what you had swirling in your mind felt like the right thing to do. Joel doesn’t know if he could’ve held back if you confessed. Even though he was rather close to confessing himself, that was before Tommy took initiative.
He observes the first painting. His initial thought is that it looks nice. There are a lot of colors in geometric shapes. He sees a lot of red and pink. Some blue. Some white. His eyes move up and down, and as it does, he slowly begins to realize the smaller shapes form a bigger one. It’s human. A naked one. He follows the vee of the adonis belt, the softened stomach. Suddenly it’s very clear to him that this is a man. Joel takes a step back. The face hasn’t been painted yet. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. A somber smile touches his lips. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t have any of those. Maybe he won’t fuck up so badly if he doesn’t.
Joel’s about to leave when he sees it. The smallest stain on the front of the silhouette’s hip. Tilting his head, he steps closer. His skin tight over his muscles, his breath hitches.
It’s a bullseye. The tiniest, you blink you miss it, bullseye.
He leans closer, it’s definitely a bullseye. Smaller than his tattoo, but it’s the same shape, in the same spot.
What the fuck?
He lifts his gaze, eyes flitting across the round shape that’s meant to be a face—his face. Is this…supposed to be him?
Shitshitshitshit
Joel jolts out of the room and stumbles into the small bathroom that’s on the first floor. He turns the faucet so hard that his fingers ache but he doesn’t care. He splashes cool water over his face until his breathing calms down. Then he flushes the toilet for some noise.
When he opens the door, his head is spinning. The walls wiggle and dance, the hardwood floor underneath his feet slips. Joel can barely stand. His fingers itch to have something pressed against them, something that can pull him out of the fog of his mind.
He doesn’t look inside and silently closes the door, his eyes glazed over. He makes his way down the hall. His heart is beating too fast. He can barely breathe. Some part of him believes he’s making it up. That the tattoo wasn’t there, that it was just smudged paint. He’s not an artist. It wouldn’t be hard for his brain to make something up. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The voices grow closer. He closes his eyes, lashes touching with his cheeks. He should’ve let you talk that day. At least then everything would be crystal clear. He hates not truly knowing. The heave of his chest forces him to open his eyes.
Everyone is already at the table. You’re serving the food, putting a chicken leg on your brother’s empty plate. His space is reserved next to Sarah, right across from Tommy and you, August is at the head of the table. Only Sarah notices him. She looks up, brows pinched together as she mouths: are you okay dad?
Joel nods and takes his seat. His vision finally clears. The scent of chicken and roasted vegetables wafts through the air, grounding him to the present. He feels the brush of Sarah’s fingers on his forearm, she still looks worried.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, reaching for the salad. With his tongue between his lips, his gaze follows your movements as you divide the chicken. “Everything looks amazing, tea. Thank you for having us.”
“Yeah,” Sarah chimes in. “It looks great. I didn’t know you could cook.”
You let out a snort and shake your head. “Why does everyone in this house think I can’t look after myself? What kind of image am I giving you guys?”
Laughter follows, Tommy, says something but Joel doesn’t catch it. His mind still in the room with the painting. He eats silently. Biting into his fork and savoring the taste of white meat. He watches Sarah neatly wrapping the base of the chicken leg with a napkin before she starts eating, he rolls his eyes but smiles anyway.
No one really discerns his silence. Which he concludes to be a good thing. The food is good and helps him settle down. His eyes flit between you and Tommy, a pleasant conversation taking place between the two people closest to him.
Suddenly he sees Tommy in a tux, you in a white dress. The sun is bright and Sarah is the flower girl. He’s standing next to his baby brother, waiting to hand the ring to Tommy as soon as the priest finishes his speech. He stares at you from above Tommy’s shoulder. Your smile is wide.
You meet his gaze and Joel fights the urge to jerk away. Your smile broadens into a grin, you wink at him.
You look back to Tommy. His heart sinks into his stomach.
If that ever happens, at least you'll still be close. Joel will forever have your eyes. He’ll get to stare at them as often as he wants to. Tommy doesn’t have to know. But that doesn't change the fact that Joel will still be lost, he'll still be lonely after Sarah leaves to live her own life.
He would always be searching for something more, something that he couldn't quite name or articulate. That yearning would remain, like an ache that refused to subside. He would try to fill that void with other things, other people, but it would never be enough. He would always come back to that sense of restlessness, that nagging feeling that there was something missing.
He’ll never be satisfied.
Joel hands you a wet plate and you smile, patting off the access water, you place it on the dishrack. Soft steps come from upstairs. A door closes, and the sound of the shower softly adds to the ambiance of domestic bliss.
Joel hands you another plate.
It’s been a while since dinner came to an end. Much to your delight, it turned out to be a pleasant evening. August and Tommy got along swimmingly, which came as no surprise to anyone. With her stomach full and warm, Sarah was practically sleeping on the couch. Joel had to nudge her awake, and you offered to show him the spare room, but he shook his head and woke her up. Sarah was briefly confused, but she managed to make her way back with Joel. Tommy left a bit later, thanking you and squeezing your hand as he left. You were quite surprised when Joel returned ten minutes later, offering to help with the dishes. August had already gone upstairs to take a shower.
You hate doing the dishes so you had no objections to that.
“I really should buy a dishwasher,” you say, breaking the silence. “Thanks again. You really didn’t have to.”
His lips part with a low chuckle, his gaze fixed on the sponge that suds up the plate. “I’ve heard you complain more than I can count, sweet tea. There was no way I was going to leave you with this monstrous pile.”
“My hero.”
A comfortable silence stretches between the two of you, though you're not sure how that's possible. He's been avoiding you for a week and has been silent all afternoon. You're not even sure he talked to Auggie much, except for introducing himself.
Some part of you doesn't want the stacks of porcelain to end. You internally curse at yourself for washing the pots and pans before dinner. This time, you take a bowl from him. It's slippery, and you nearly drop it, but his fingers curl around yours, tightening your grip before it can shatter against the floor.
Your breath catches in your throat. Joel's fingers remain on your hand, and a soft caress follows. Goosebumps rise over your body; it's so sudden that it tingles, a slight pain etching over your skin. Slowly lifting your eyes, you see that he's already staring at you. Joel holds your gaze, his eyes warm and inviting. A blissful sigh raises in your throat, threatening to spill, but you press your lips together.
Joel inhales, and on the exhale he asks, “Your date with Tommy must’ve been a good one, I reckon. You guys came back late.”
Blood rushes to your ears. You pull your hand back, like you’ve been burned with boiling water, soap bubbles fly into the air. The bowl slips back into the sink and you hear it crack but refuse to look down. Your heart is beating too fast, too hard—shit. Why is he saying this out of the blue? Rage pounds underneath your fingernails. You’re not sure why you’re so mad. And you’re not surprised Tommy didn’t tell him anything. Those two are constipated when it comes to talking.
Your glare and his soft gaze clashes, lighting crackling in the still air.
“Why are you suddenly mentioning Tommy?” you hiss out. Tears sting your eyes. “And it’s none of your business. If you want to know you should ask hi—”
“I saw your little art project.”
Your mouth dries up, the rage replaced by a childlike terror. You pull your hand close to your chest. Breathing heavily.
“What?”
Joel takes a step forward, leaning into you and crowding your personal bubble. You’re glued to the floor. The blood rush loud in your ears. You feel so vulnerable that it hurts, your body trembling uncontrollably.
“It was…me, wasn’t it?” he shakes his head. “What if Tommy saw? You can’t do shit like that when you’re datin’ him. You can’t just paint another man.”
His voice is both hushed and forceful. You’ shake your head, attempting to blink away the tears. All the emotions you feel like a balloon in your chest waiting to explode. Your head drops. You stare at his chest. It’s moving with every rapid breath.
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?” Joel sounds flabbergasted. He takes a step back and stares at you—really stares at you with narrowed eyes, as if he’s seeing you for the first time.
“I said,” you bite out through clenched teeth. You step forward and shove him in the chest, it does little to move him and his fingers wrap tightly around your wrists. You refuse to look at him. “Fuck. You. You don’t get to shame me in the ways I heal. The art I create. You’re the one who has a girlfriend. You’re the one that allowed me to get as close as I did, saying cryptic shit knowing that I had a crush on you! So yeah—” your eyes snap up, looking him dead in the eye. His mouth hangs open, shock etched between his brows. “Fuck you, Joel Miller.”
His grip tightens, it’s rough and it stings. A shiver runs up your spine. “I’m not dating your brother.” you say with a sense of finality.
“I didn’t know you had a crush on me.” Joel’s thumb moves down your wrist. His hardened gaze softens, the smallest of gasps escaping from between lips. “Asha and I broke up.”
“You did?”
Your world starts spinning, your stomach flips in your stomach. He nods.
“The day you came to the garden. Before your date with Tommy. I broke it off.”
“Why?” you ask, holding your breath.
“Because I had someone else on my mind.”
He’s fully stroking your arm now, the roughness of his hold gone. Textured fingertips move up and down your skin, sending shudder after shudder up your very being. Heat gathers between your legs, and you feel a dampness that makes you ache. Joel leans closer and you feel his hot breath fanning your cheeks, mixed with the lingering scent of beer. You hold your breath. The kitchen doesn’t seem to stop spinning.
Without another word Joel tugs you flush against him, his firm chest pressing up yours, a tingle starting from your pebbled nipples and buzzing throughout your body. He sucks the air from your lungs. He groans into your mouth. You feel his hands skimming the frame of your body, dipping into every curve. Joel pulls and tugs at the fabric of your dress. You hear a small rip. You don’t care about it in the slightest. But he must’ve heard it too because a soft growl emanates from his chest. He tugs at the fabric again, the following noise louder. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, pulling it along with him as he parts. You let out a debauched whine and you swear he grins, the cocky bastard.
His hands cup your ass, kneading it tenderly. You sigh into his mouth, your hands feeling numb and weak from where they rest above his chest. He lets go of your bottom lip, pressing his mouth into the swollen flesh before moving away.
You gasp and let out a shaky bubble of laughter. “If this ‘someone else’ you speak of isn’t me this is about to get really awkward really fast.”
“Don’t worry that pretty lil’ head of yours darlin’,” his forehead touches yours, the skin damp. He breathes heavily, the tone of his voice oddly serious and deep. “It’s you.”
a/n: THEY KISSED! FINALLY. I think this is the longest thing I've ever written without the characters getting at it immediately, it's been a fun ride lmaodfbfd
Normally, this chapter was supposed to have smut as well. But I loved the ending "it's you" so much that I decided it was a good way to end the chapter. But believe me, the next chapter is going to get as filthy as it gets. I already have it outlined. (feel free to hop into my askbox to tell me what filthy things you want to see them get to 🤭)
Thank you to everyone who is still with me on this little journey that started out with a mere thought after seeing a bts Instagram story, I never thought so many people would be eager to read such a thing and all of you have my appreciation. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, in all honestly I'm nervous as hell posting it. Hopefully I hit all the right parts.
Sending all of you many hugs and kisses 🧡
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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Sink or swim
12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8
WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader
SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret.
A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.
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The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.
You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.
Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.
You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.
No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.
Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–
Shut up.
You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.
The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings.
With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.
As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special.
It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.
Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.
Fucking embarrassing.
How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again?
There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.
“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”
You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.
Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.
It’s an uncomfortable truth.
There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.
And last night, that fear came true.
Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.
For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration.
Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?
You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.
You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.
Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.
From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.
You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.
And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.
As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.
You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.
Three years earlier
The sun is down.
Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.
This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.
In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.
You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.
You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–
“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”
A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.
Are you kidding me?
With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.
“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”
“Wha–”
You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”
The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.
“Darlin’, I’m just–”
“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”
You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”
You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”
When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up.
Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is.
God, what’s wrong with you?
“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”
“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”
“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”
His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.
Okay, world. Hint taken.
“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out.
“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”
Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.
“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”
The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself.
His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”
You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”
He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.
As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.
The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone.
You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.
“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.
Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.
“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.
“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”
“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.
“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.
You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance.
He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.”
“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”
“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.”
“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”
Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”
“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.
“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.”
“You’re not from here?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”
“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”
You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”
“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”
“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”
He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”
You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.
“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.
“I told you, watching the sunset.”
“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”
You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”
“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”
“Like what?”
“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”
Your bewildered look amuses him.
“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”
You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”
Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”
“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”
“Hm?”
“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”
“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”
You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”
“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes.
“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”
“Where did you put all your stuff?”
“My stuff?”
“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.”
You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”
“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.
He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.
He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”
“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.
Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.
“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”
You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”
“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”
You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?”
“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”
“Pineapple.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pine. Apple.”
“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”
“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”
“No, just not a complete monster.”
You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.
Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.
“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.”
You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again.
“When did you decide to fly out here?”
“Last night.”
“How? Why?”
“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”
“Hm. I know that feeling.”
You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”
“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry.
You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”
“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”
You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”
You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.”
Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
“Are you married?”
“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend.”
“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”
“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”
“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.”
Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.”
“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity.
“A few times, yeah.”
“And the women you were with…they loved you?”
“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be.
“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”
Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.
“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”
“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”
Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.”
“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile.
“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”
“What the hell? When was that?”
“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”
“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“What makes you say that?”
You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.
“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”
You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.”
He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes.
“I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.”
Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh.
“Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling.
“I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart.
“No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you.
You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you.
In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source.
Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock.
“I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute.
“Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”
You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”
“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.
“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”
“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.
“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”
“Did you just call me handsome?”
“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”
Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.
“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.
“I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”
“What did you do?”
“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”
“And now you’re here.”
“And now I’m here.”
The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.
“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”
“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”
Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.
“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”
“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.
“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”
“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”
“Dar–”
“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare.
He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.
“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”
“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.
“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”
Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.
“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."
He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly.
“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now.
“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”
You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back.
“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you.
“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”
Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.
Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.
As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life.
He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.
You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence.
Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.
As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.
You take a deep breath.
“Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”
“Why won’t you go home?”
Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you.
“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.
You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.
You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.
Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own.
His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone.
“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.
“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”
For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart.
Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.
Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.
“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night.
“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness.
Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.
“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”
“Tommy?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”
Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”
“Great,” you say with a small smile.
You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.
“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.
“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”
“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back.
“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.
“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.
He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.
As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”
“Are you–”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”
Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.
“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.
As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.
Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.
As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.
Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”
“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?”
“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.
You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.
Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”
You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow.
“Want me to show you around?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.”
“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”
“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him.
“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”
Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”
You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.
“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”
“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack.
As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.
After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.
With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.
“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.
“Yeah?”
“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”
“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease.
“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”
You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.
As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.
Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.
Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight.
Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.
With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.
“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”
Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.
But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.
Oh.
The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident.
Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.
You’re in trouble.
His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.
A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.
Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer.
“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.
As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.
The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.
“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.
You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”
“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”
Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.
When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.
“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.
With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot.
Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.
Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.
And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.
“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.
“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his.
You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black.
“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great view of your spread thighs and torso.
“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.
You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist.
“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm.
“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”
As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole.
“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.
“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.
Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.
But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”
“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed.
Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him.
“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.
Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.
But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.
This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.
You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips.
Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.
“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”
Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his.
“Please? Tommy?”
Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.
“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”
He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”
“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”
The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him.
“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.
“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.
Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.
“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.
You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.
Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up.
You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)
You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?
Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy.
just accept it <3
You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him.
But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.
Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I, uh, I got something to tell you.”
“Shoot.”
“I met someone.”
Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart.
“We’ve only been on two dates, but I–”
“Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze.
“Yes.”
That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced.
“Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?”
Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.”
“Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.”
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“Darlin’, look at me.”
You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears.
“I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.”
You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants.
And that’s not you.
You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”
You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.
You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.
One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand.
A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.
After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.”
“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.”
“I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.”
“Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.”
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.”
“The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.”
“I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.”
“You really wanna play semantics with me?”
“Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.”
“Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?”
“It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.”
“Ew, don’t say that.”
“Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.”
“You suck, you know that?”
“Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?”
“I dunno, probably not.”
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Uhh, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.”
“Tommy…”
“Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.”
“Liar.”
“Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.”
“Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?”
“Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“What does your gut say?”
“My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.”
“As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.”
“I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.”
“Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.”
“Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?”
“You know I’m right, baby.”
It’s funny, really.
You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.
As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors, reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids.
You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.
You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”
“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”
His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.
Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.
“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”
His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction.
You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.
“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.
Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”
“Hm.”
“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”
As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.
In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.
“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?”
You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings.
“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.
Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.
“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”
Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.
As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.
You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.
Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.
Thank you for reading! 🤍
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two is better than one | joel & tommy miller
Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?
Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N
Word Count | 3.8k
Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.
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Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it.
When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were.
The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different.
“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead.
“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.”
“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.”
You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear.
Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?”
You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.”
He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear.
“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.”
You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone.
“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.”
There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again.
“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”
You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.”
You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time?
You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you.
You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin.
“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.”
“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear.
“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours.
When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead.
“Hello, darlin’.”
You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you.
“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?”
“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.”
You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?
You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head.
You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval.
“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.”
Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance.
Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.”
“Just frustrating.” You mumble.
“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?”
Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed.
Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.”
You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair.
“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice.
Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face.
You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth.
As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out.
“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.”
He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips.
Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.”
Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue.
You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.”
All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t.
You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him.
“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.”
You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach.
“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak.
Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans.
“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock.
Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good.
You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock.
You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming.
You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want.
You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry.
“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.”
“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.”
You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.”
“She’s special, I’ll give you that.”
It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time.
“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you.
You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat.
“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.”
He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you.
“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.”
As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you.
You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin.
“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?”
“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.”
“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?”
“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.”
“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.”
He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?”
“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.”
His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?”
That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.
You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin.
Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you.
“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.”
“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.”
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller Smut#Joel Miller Fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Tommy Miller#Tommy Miller smut#Tommy Miller fic#Tommy Miller fanfic#Tommy Miller fanfiction#Tommy Miller x you#Tommy Miller x reader#Tommy Miller x female reader#Tommy Miller x f!reader#The Last Of Us#The Last Of Us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#tlou smut#tlou fic#the last of us fic#the last of us smut#trial & error#Joel Miller Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal
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Falling Slowly - Chapter 1
Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 2000+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes:This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!
And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear
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It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.
Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.
I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.
“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”
She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.
It probably helps that she has giant tits too.
I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor.
I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.
“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.
“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.”
Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.
“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”
“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”
“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip.
“You look stressed. I can help with that.”
His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me.
“She said she was done talkin’.”
This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole.
The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor.
"Fuck off, friend."
"Not until you leave the lady alone."
The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch.
"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."
The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.
"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."
The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence.
"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."
The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."
Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."
The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own.
"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything.
A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab.
"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?"
"Travis County. The one on 10th."
"Thanks."
The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.
So I wait.
Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.
"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?"
The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze.
"You bailed me out?"
"I had to. You saved me."
God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'."
"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"
"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"
I wave my hand at him. "No way."
"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"
I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"
He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"
I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."
"Ah I'll be alright."
"Stop arguing and come with me."
He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."
Oh I am so fucked.
He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name.
"I'm Tommy by the way."
I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."
"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."
We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment.
"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."
He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors.
"You serve?" I ask.
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"
"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"
"I…yeah. That would be preferable."
I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."
I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.
"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."
I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."
He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."
"What, are you a carpenter or something?"
"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."
"So do I."
Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand.
His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.
"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks.
"What?"
"On your shelf."
"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"
He smirks. "Are you surprised?"
"A little."
"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."
"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"
"Yeah."
"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."
"Oh I'm not many people."
"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."
His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.
"I love pizza."
"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it.
"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it.
"You managed to snag a copy?"
"I bribed the cashier."
He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."
"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."
The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles.
"You got a DVD player?"
"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."
I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button.
"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"
“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”
Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”
I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”
Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”
“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”
Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”
“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”
Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter.
“So you’re just….friends?”
Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”
Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”
“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”
The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”
“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”
Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”
>>Chapter 2>>
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989
#tommy miller#gabriel luna#The last of us#tommy miller x you#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x female reader#tommy miller x reader#tlou#tlou fanfic#tlouff#the last of us fanfic#gabriel luna x reader#gabriel luna x you#gabriel luna characters#gabriel luna character fanfic#gabriel lunal character ff#gabriel luna character fanfiction
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✧ LOVER BE GOOD TO ME ✧
a/n: finally we've reached the day meant for tommy! i'm actually kind of excited about this one. if only because i'm obsessed with this man. it's short and sweet, but the amount of wips i have for him in my drafts are extensive. so i hope you enjoy.
day thirteen - overstimulation | kinktober 2023
summary: "how you managed to be the lucky winner in this draw called life, you’d never know. tommy was kind, good to you in a way no other person ever had been before."
word count: 1k+
pairing: tommy miller x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, overstimulation, tad bit of pain kink, tommy is soft, choking, oral (f receiving)
You should have known you’d wind up like this—barely able to gasp in a single breath, body covered in a slight sheen of sweat, as your mind was altered. The night went normal enough. Dinner with Joel and Sarah. A night that wasn’t entirely different from every other Saturday, but something lingered in his eyes. The mischief that you’d fallen in love with. Tommy and all his antics, ever the troublemaker of the Miller clan.
Which is why you didn’t think anything of the look he gave you an hour beforehand. Barely noticed the way his eyes glazed over slightly, trailing down your figure clad in jeans and a t-shirt. It was an outfit he’d seen you in a hundred times over. But something caught his attention—pulling him in a damn siren call.
“You gotta look at me honey,” he breathed, grasping your chin in his hand and moving your head to face him. Your eyes fluttered open—mouth parted as he took in the sight of you. All fucked out and pretty. “How’re feelin’?”
A soft whine pulled from the back of your throat, hips canting up with a need that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. “T-Tommy…”
“Yeah? That’s me baby.” He shifted, pushing his hips forward slightly and grinning when you moaned, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. “Lemme hear you.”
“Feel g-good,” you whined, the ache in your body growing the longer he kept you there. Right on the precipice of finishing. You could no longer tell how long you’d been at this—how long it had been since he kissed you at the door and stripped you on the way to the bedroom.
He had spread you out on the mattress, a gleam in his eyes that held you captivated as he sealed his mouth over your cunt. Drinking you down as if you were the dessert he’d been craving all throughout dinner. By the second orgasm, you were shoving at his head in an attempt to offer yourself some reprieve. But Tommy had different plans altogether. Intentions that left you writhing beneath him, crying out some broken version of his name.
“All I want baby,” he murmured, leaning down to lick into your mouth, drawing out a soft sound he swallowed. “Want you to feel good. Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
Your breath stuttered, eyes nearly falling shut entirely until you felt it. The press of his hand against your throat, lightly directing you to what he wanted. What he had asked you to do right before this. He wanted you to look at him. To see how he took you apart over and over, until you could focus on nothing but him.
“Can feel you.” He grunted, grinding into you and watching as your face went slack with pleasure, eyes rolling back.
Something snapped in your body, flooding you with an intense amount of bliss that had you going incoherent. A loud hum buzzing in your ears. But over the sound you heard him groan—long and broken—the words there you go being pressed to your jaw. His fingers pressed to your clit, circling it roughly until pain began to tinge at the edge of your vision. Something so bright and blaring you had no choice but to grasp onto it. To draw it closer and let it consume you.
He followed you quickly with a raspy shout of your name, his body nearly dropping on top of you. Except he never stopped touching you. Never let up on prolonging your high, because if there’s one thing Tommy wanted…it was to see you like this.
His eyes drank you in—the way your body practically glowed in the low light of the bedroom, your eyes glazed over and lips swollen from where he’d bit them one too many times. He watched you lock your gaze on him. A silent cry leaving your lips when he pushed you even further. Dragging yet another release from your already exhausted body. He felt hungry for more. Desperate to see you fall apart because of him.
If he had his way, he’d have you like this as often as you allowed. But for now this was plenty. Watching while you finished with a sharp gasp, eyes going wide as your orgasm took you by surprise—legs trembling around his hips. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, nails digging into his lower back, but the night couldn’t have been more perfect.
“How do you feel honey?” he asked softly, running his thumb along your lower lip, eyes falling to see the creamy ring around his spent cock as he pulled out of you. The sight nearly made him want to go again, but the way your body slumped into the mattress told him otherwise.
You smiled lazily. “Four?”
“I could have made it five.”
You slapped weakly at his chest—the hit feeling like a light tap. “I wouldn’t have made it.”
He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’d have brought you back.”
“Mmm. With what?”
“My tongue.”
You shivered, hand curling into his hair and tugging gently. “Filthy.”
“Thought you liked that about me.” His hand slid down, cupping your tender cunt as he places a trail of kisses down your jaw. Teeth scraping along your chin. “Fell for me cause ‘m filthy.”
You sighed, letting him lead down to your chest, laving his tongue along your stiff nipple. “Fell for you cause you’re sweet.”
“Don’t lie baby,” he murmured, sliding your thigh over his shoulder—the mischief trickling back into his gleaming brown eyes. “You like this more.”
“F-Fuck Tommy.” Your hand gripped his hair tighter as his tongue teased your clit, that flicker of pain once again resurging. Only this time…you welcomed it.
“Honey.” Your eyes snapped to his, lips parting as you drew in quick and stunted breaths. “Love you.”
That welcome feeling you cherished more than anything overtook you. Warming the inside of your chest with something else. Something familiar. He smiled at you like pure sunlight, a sight that anyone would be lucky to witness. How you managed to be the lucky winner in this draw called life, you’d never know. Tommy was kind, good to you in a way no other person ever had been before. That reason alone had you smiling back, body softening to his touch, becoming pliable beneath him.
“Love you too,” you breathed, watching as he dove back in, curling his tongue around your clit and effectively causing your mind to go blissfully blank.
#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x you#tommy miller x y/n#tommy miller#tommy miller smut#the last of us fic#my writing#kinktober 2023
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♡‧₊˚𓃗 City Slickers 𓃗 ♡‧₊˚
A/N: horse girlies..imma need y’all to rise up for this one 🤠 double trouble are coming around the corner, and they’re comin’ in HOT
Pairing | barrel racing! Joel Miller x barrel racing Tommy Miller x barrel racing! f! reader
Summary: it’s Austin’s biggest barrel racing season yet. You’ve been the reigning champ for the past two years, and you’re not about to give up your title willingly. Joel and Tommy Miller are rookies in your eyes. City Slicker pretty boys is all they are to you, until you see them ride. Perhaps they aren’t just two city slickers after all.
Warnings: eventual smut, threesome! Paris is lovely this time of year, reader doesn’t take to losing lightly, Joel and Tommy are lowkey cocky assholes but the reader is into it, unsanitary sexual situations (in the back of a horse trailer) no outbreak/AU, no age gap, reader is a Texas native, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!
Chapters |
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tommy miller#tommy miller fanfiction#tommy miller smut#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x female reader#joel miller fic#tommy miller fic#tommy miller fluff#joel miller series#joel and tommy#city slickers#barrel racing! Joel Miller#barrel racing! Tommy Miller#coming soon#fic announcement
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Dancin’ With The Devil
Mothman!Joel x F!Reader x Jersey Devil!Tommy
Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist
A sequel to Mothman Fever
Author’s note: Here it is!! A few days early!! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading and helping me come up with Tommy’s backstory. ❤️🦋
Summary: A year after you met Joel at the Mothman Festival in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, he decides to introduce you to his mysterious brother, Tommy.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: no outbreak, oral sex (M and F receiving), semi public sex, sex pollen, drinking, dub con, MFM threesome (Joel and Tommy don’t touch during it), monsterfucking, pet names (Luna like the moth lmao), very light angst, mentions of food, made up Mothman/Jersey Devil lore, no use of y/n
It’s your favorite time of year, late September, which means only one thing; the Mothman Festival. Last year’s festival was one for the books. Meeting Joel was most definitely the highlight of the trip. You’ve kept in contact with him here and there since then. It blows your mind that you’re texting and calling the Mothman. And ever since you’ve met you’re left with more questions than ever. Who knew Mothman was a charming man with a Southern accent that could shapeshift? You’ve researched on your own, never telling your friends what you found that one fateful night in the woods. They would never believe you. But your research has come up empty-handed every time. You assumed that Joel being the sweet talker he is has done this to countless other women over the years, hoping that you’d find some Reddit threads of women discussing their encounters with the strange man in Point Pleasant, Virginia. But it seems you’re the only one.
…Or they’ve all been too ashamed to tell their story, too scared of the flack they might catch. A man that shapeshifts into a giant human moth is definitely hard to believe. But if there’s one thing for certain, you’ll ask him all the burning questions you’ve been thinking about over the past year.
-
You’re driving to Point Pleasant again, excited for what this year’s festival has in store.
This time you’re alone. Janelle couldn’t get off from work and Tara has the flu. But this just means that you get more time with Joel.
You’ll be recreating last year’s festival down to a T. This afternoon you’re going to lunch with Joel at Village Pizza where you first met. The next night is set aside for the bar you and Joel went to for your first date. But the final night is the crown jewel– the Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area.
You drive to the hotel, the same one you stayed at last year, and internally cry at the price. Last year you split the rate between the three of you but now you’re eating the cost yourself. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s worth it if you’ll have an experience like last year.
Once you’re checked in and settled into your room you receive a text from Joel, right on time, as if he knew you were finally free.
Hey, Luna. 🦋
Hey, Joel.
You settled in your room yet?
Yeah!
Meet me at Village Pizza in 30?
Sounds good. See you soon :)
You change before you leave, opting for another funny t-shirt. This one says Mothman is real and he’s my girlfriend, hoping Joel will get a kick out of it.
You walk to Village Pizza and spot Joel sitting in a booth from the window outside. He smiles when he sees you but it melts into a frown when he sees your shirt. You head inside and slide inside the booth, beaming at him while his scowl never fades.
“What’s with the shirt?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“…Girlfriend?”
“What about it?”
“Shouldn’t it say boyfriend?”
“Are you using the B word, Joel?” you laugh.
He laughs too, never actually answering your question.
“Good to see you. You’re lookin’ good.”
“Likewise,” you smile. “Got any big plans tonight? Gonna bump into a bright light or something?”
“Funny,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But no. I thought we’d go out tonight.”
“Oh, okay.”
“No friends with you this time? I thought one of them was coming.”
“Tara was supposed to come but she came down with the flu.”
“That’s too bad… But at least I get you all to myself until…” he trails off, grabbing your hand on the table.
“Until what?”
“Have I mentioned my brother Tommy at all?”
“Yeah. You said he was in Jersey last year.”
“He won’t be joining us tonight but he’ll be here tomorrow. That alright with you?”
“Fine with me. I’m excited to meet him.”
“I figured you would be,” he says, squeezing your hand.
You’re just as curious about Tommy as you are Joel. Could he be a Mothman, too?
-
After a successful lunch at Village Pizza, you part ways for the rest of the afternoon, giving you time to rest after your drive until you go out tonight.
You take a nap, having the most vivid dreams about Mothman Joel and potentially Mothman Tommy until your alarm goes off and it’s time to get ready.
You opt for a t-shirt that says The only thing keeping me going is Mothman’s fat ass. Maybe he’ll like this one better.
At eight you get a text from Joel saying he’s in the lobby so you look over your appearance once more in the mirror before swiftly meeting him downstairs.
“Well don���t you look beautiful, Luna,” he says, pulling you in for a hug and a quick kiss on your neck. Excitement already brews between your legs just from the small gesture of affection.
“Thanks, Joel,” you smile, pulling away and looking at him. He’s wearing dark jeans and a flannel. And his curls are extra fluffy. God, he looks good.
“Same place as last time?” you ask.
“Mhm,” he says, leading you out of the hotel with a hand on the small of your back.
“Much better shirt this time,” he whispers in your ear as you walk side by side. You just giggle in response.
It’s starting to get a little busy on the streets but nothing crazy just yet. It’s only Friday evening and the festival won’t hit its peak until tomorrow night. The bar is relatively crowded inside but luckily there’s a small booth for the two of you in the back. They have the same drink special you got last year– the blood orange margarita with a gummy butterfly on top. It’s feeling like old times again.
Joel nurses a beer as you make small talk, nothing too wild or crazy. It’s Mothman weekend in the Mothman capital of the country. You can’t exactly ask him all your burning questions about Mothman lore just yet. But the drinks are loosening you up and you’re sitting closer to each other, cheeks burning with desire for one another.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks as if he read your mind.
“You know it!” you say, slamming the rest of your drink and grabbing your purse.
He grabs your hand and helps you up from the booth, making your way to the bar so he can pay the tab. Once that’s all set, he leads you outside, hand on the small of your back again. The street is busy now and you’re walking through crowds of people packed shoulder to shoulder. The hand on your back quickly turns into a snug arm around your waist to ensure you don’t get separated among the drunken festivalgoers.
He wakes you down the street, at least a few blocks, until he turns down a small secluded alley, bringing you all the way to… a truck?
“Why do you need a truck?”
“You think I just fly everywhere?”
“Well… No, I guess not.”
“I’ll blow my cover.”
“You’re right,” you sigh, admitting defeat. “It’s just kinda funny to picture Mothman driving a truck.”
“I don’t drive the truck in my moth form.”
“Are you able to just like… shift at will?” you ask. Now that you’re alone you’re taking the opportunity to get all your burning questions answered.
“Yes. But it wasn’t always that way,” he says, unlocking this truck.
You sit in the back together and while you know what’s going to happen next you’re not sitting on any dicks until you get your questions answered.
“So… how did you turn into Mothman?”
“I went on a hike one way and got lost… Ended up coming in contact with the wood spirits who cursed me for encroaching on their land.”
“Wood spirits??”
“Mhm.”
“Where?”
“Texas.”
“You never told me you were from Texas.”
“I don’t share a lot of information about myself normally.”
“How’d you end up here?”
“Back then I couldn’t control when I could shift and I didn’t want to give my family a bad reputation back in Austin.”
“So you’ve been alone this whole time?”
“I see Tommy from time to time.”
“What about other people from the festival? Have you… done this sort of thing before?”
“Like what I have with you?” he says, looking at you and placing a hand on your thigh.
“Yeah,” you say, looking away, almost as if you’re afraid of his answer.
“No. You’re the first one, Luna.”
“Really?” you say, meeting his eyes again. His pupils are blown wide, looking at you with all the love and admiration in the world. For a split second, you swear his eyes flash red.
“I mean it.”
He leans in closer, the hand on your moving closer to the hem of your skirt. That was enough questioning for now.
You take it upon yourself to straddle his lap. His large hands grab your thighs, fingertips sinking into your soft skin as he manhandles you. Your wetness is growing at an impossible rate. Something about Joel drives you crazy. Aside from your obvious attraction to him, it has to be the pheromones. He sinks his teeth in your neck as you rock your rips back and forth. The wetness runs down your thighs and pools on his bulge. You purposely skipped out on panties for this occasion.
“So wet for me, Luna. I can feel it,” he says, kissing up your neck and along your jawline.
His mouth ghosts yours, warm breath tickling your face. You smell his fruity aroma like you did in the forest all those months ago. You haven’t even seen him in his Mothman form yet. And here he is, driving you wild with his pheromones.
“Joel…” you whine. “I need you.”
“Beg for me.”
“I can’t wait any longer,” you say, needily rutting your hips into him.
“No?” he teases.
“No,” you whimper.
He reaches in between your thighs, hastily undoing the fly of his jeans and pulling out his cock. You lean back and look down– eight inches, thick, and uncut with pre-cum leaking from the tip. He strokes himself, spreading the wetness he’s built up down his shaft, looking at you with a devilish grin.
“You want it?”
“More than anything.”
“Come and get it.”
You pull up your skirt and inch forward, wet cunt hovering over his rock-hard cock before sinking down onto him. Your warmth envelops every inch, walls expanding to accommodate his girth.
“Good girl,” he praises, hands squeezing your waist.
You rest your hands on his shoulders, knees supporting you on the old leather seats of his truck. You bounce and ride in the backseat, condensation forming on the windows.
“You take my cock so good. Look at you, puttin’ on a show for me,” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look directly into his eyes. You swear they flash red again. You’re too far gone, too cock drunk to form coherent sentences, looking at him with your falling into a soft O. Beads of sweat dot your forehead as you’re sent into a state of pure euphoria. It’s almost too much.
Until it isn’t.
Your orgasm rips through you, core muscles convulsing erratically. He feels and grips your chin harder, showering you with praise.
“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s right. Soak my cock.”
“Fuck, Joel. It’s so good,” you moan, a single tear rolling down your cheek.
“Mmm my cock makes you feel so good, doesn’t it, Luna?”
“It does, Joel– Ah!” you start to say. But you’re cut off with a moan as Joel jerks his hips up into you. And then he finally spills his load into you, letting out a string of grunts and curse words.
Your hips slow to a stop and you rest against him, your head on his shoulder. He softly rubs your back and whispers words of praise in your ear.
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
“Yeah?” you ask, sleepiness dripping from your voice.
“Mhm. And tomorrow night’s going to be so special.”
“Why’s that?”
“It will be. Just trust me.”
“Okay,” you whisper, letting yourself succumb to sleep.
-
The next morning you wake up in your bed alone, not remembering how you got there. You rub your eyes and roll over to find your phone, squinting at the bright screen. Joel texted you a few hours ago.
Text me when you’re awake.
You glance at the time and see that you slept through the morning and most of the afternoon. It’s three o’clock. Yikes.
But it’s not like last night wasn’t worth it.
Good morning? But I guess it’s really the afternoon now haha
How’d you sleep?
Like a baby!
That’s good to hear. Can you call me?
You sit upright and dial his number, putting the phone to your ear and hearing his gruff voice over the line.
“Hey, Luna.”
“Hi, Joel.”
“I wanted to talk about the plans for tonight.”
“Okay. Is Tommy in town yet?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool! Where should we go?”
“Well, I was thinkin’... You know how you met me in the woods last year?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you say we do the same tonight?”
“But the stakeout is tomorrow night.”
“I know… It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“I-”
“You know you’re safe with me, right?”
“I know, Joel.”
“Head to the McClintic Wildlife Area at nine, okay?”
“Okay, Joel. See you then. Bye.”
You flop down on the bed and think about what shirt you’ll wear tonight.
…And about what you’re going to do for your extremely late breakfast.
-
After doom scrolling for a bit you shower and get dressed, opting for a shirt that says Mothman is real. We made out. He is a gentle and caring lover for tonight’s momentous occasion.
You hit the town and kill time at The Coffee Grinder and some local museums, anxiously anticipating what tonight will bring.
You creep through the forest, having flashbacks to what happened in these woods last year. That same citrusy, fruity aroma permeates the area again and gold dust hangs in the air. Joel must be near.
Your phone buzzes.
Come closer.
You walk further, your steps so gentle and quiet, careful not to startle other wildlife around you. And then you see it– the familiar red eyes. The scent grows stronger and so does the beat of your heart. Towering above you again is Joel, in his Mothman form of course. You’re not afraid. Instead, you’re happy he’s here in this state without the worry of being watched.
And yet, you sense another presence behind you. Joel looks past you and whatever’s there. You turn and look, not sure what you think should be there.
You couldn’t have expected what was before your eyes.
A creature, just as tall as Mothman. Gargantuan black wings spread out– hooves instead of feet. And a long tail forked at the tip.
You want to scream. And yet, when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You’re paralyzed with fear. But Joel doesn’t seem to mind whatever this is.
Is this some sort of sick joke? Did he lure you into a false sense of security and now after a year something terrible is going to happen?
“Alright, Tommy. Shift back. You’re scarin’ her.”
A silver mist permeates the area. It’s an earthy pine scent. You blink and it starts to dissipate, most of the remnants of it are left on your exposed skin. And before you is a man, bearing a resemblance to Joel.
“...Tommy?”
You turn your head and see that Joel’s still in his Mothman form. Your gaze bounces back and forth between the two of them until it finally lands on Tommy again. He’s smirking, a smile that matches Joel’s.
“What… are you?” you ask.
“You ever heard of the Jersey Devil, baby?” Tommy says,
“That’s what you meant when you said he was in Jersey?”
You turn your head and look at Joel again. When he speaks his mouth doesn’t move, almost like he’s talking to you telepathically.
“Mhm. Left a little clue for ya.”
Joel finally shifts back into his human form. Small remnants of the gold dust still hang in the air, along with the fruity scent. You know what’s going to happen next. It’s as if a fog washes over you and controls your free will, wiping other thoughts from your mind. Your most primal urges are unlocked.
You knew Joel’s Mothman form had this effect on you but Tommy’s you had no idea about. Hell, you were assuming he was another Mothman this whole time, not some other cryptid. And yet his pheromones are having the same effect on you as Joel’s. And the feeling is more intense, burning from the inside out.
“Joel, I feel different.”
“S’Okay, Luna. We’ll take real good care of ya. I promise.”
“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath.
Joel comes closer to you and grabs your hand. Tommy follows you from behind. You tread deeper into the forest, feeling your skin grow hotter as you walk. You try to make small talk to take your mind off of the feeling.
“So Tommy, how did you become…”
“The Jersey Devil?”
“Yeah.”
“Some guy in a bar bet me that I wouldn’t walk into the woods so I had to prove em’ wrong.”
“That’s it?”
“And then I crossed paths with the wood spirits.”
“Those pesky wood spirits,” you joke.
“Why did you leave Austin?”
“Same reason as Joel. Save my family the embarrassment back when I couldn’t control it.”
“And you chose New Jersey of all places?”
“What’s wrong with New Jersey?”
“Nothing,” you say quickly. “You just… couldn’t pay me to live in New Jersey.”
“Ouch,” Joel chimes in. “She’s got a point, though.”
“Listen, there was a severe lack of cryptid presence in that area.”
You all share a laugh before Joel brings you to a small clearing in the forest. The grass is soft beneath you and the nighttime air cools you off, but only just a little. You know what you need to do to get rid of this fever.
You immediately start by shedding your clothes. The urge is incessant. Both brothers smirk as you shed your t-shirt and jeans. But you only start to feel a shred of relief when Joel puts his hands on you, caressing your breasts and whispering in your ear.
“We’re gonna take such good care of ya,” he says, kissing your neck. “Just lie down for me, okay?”
You nod and lie down on the forest floor. A shiver runs down your spine as they tower over you.
“So… who first?”
“I’ll let Tommy here have the honor of tasting you, Luna.”
You spread your legs as Tommy takes off his shirt. His arms are toned, glistening in a mixture of sweat and the silver mist from earlier. He hovers over your face for a second, smirking down at you. You catch a whiff of him and grow even hornier– that pine scent, whatever it is, does something to you, something you can’t explain.
He lowers himself in between your thighs, warm breath tickling your thighs as he chuckles at how wet you are. He licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, making you shudder. Joel crouches down beside you, hand trailing up your side and caressing the outline of your breast. He looks down at you with wide eyes and the same thing happens again– you swear they flicker red for a second.
Tommy’s arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush against his face. His mouth latches on your clit, drawing a deep moan from you.
“He’s making you feel so good, isn’t he, Luna?” Joel asks with a smirk.
“Mhm,” you whine, biting your lip.
“Well, tell him!”
You look down at Tommy and shudder before saying, “Fuck, that feels good.”
Tommy looks up at you from in between your thighs, mouth never leaving your clit. He hums in acknowledgment, sending a vibration through your core. You curse under your breath and close your eyes. But Joel grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, Luna.”
You open your eyes just as he takes your nipple between his fingers, playing with it while Tommy brings you closer to the edge. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it expertly until the floodgates burst and you cum hard.
Your moans fill the surrounding area, music under the pale moonlight. Both men watch as you writhe under their touch. Your back arches off the forest floor as your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled already.
Tommy lazily laps up your release, tongue swirling around your entrance until your body finally relaxes on the grass. But the fever hasn’t dissipated yet. The night is far from over.
Tommy stands and switches positions with Joel. It’s like an unspoken agreement between the two men. While Tommy’s allowed to play with your body, he knows that you belong to Joel and so does your pussy.
Joel pulls off his shirt. His veins bulge from his pumped-up biceps and like Tommy, his skin is glistening, too. Your mouth falls open as his large hands grab your hips, pulling you into the bulge growing in his pants.
“You ready for me, Luna?”
“I can’t wait any longer, Joel.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles. “But be a good girl and take care of Tommy too, okay?”
You look to your right and see Tommy kneeling beside you. He takes the clothes strewn about around you and places them under your head, pulling his cock out of his jeans. Pre-cum leaks from the tip as he strokes himself, his other hand caressing your cheek.
Joel gathers your wetness on his hand and spreads it on his cock, holding your hips as he thrusts into you in one clean motion. You gulp and open your mouth for Tommy, trying to take as much of his cock as you can. Joel’s cock hits all the perfect angles inside you, your second orgasm becoming imminent. Your body takes the force of Joel’s thrusts as Tommy fucks your mouth, his thumb brushes against your skin while he holds your head.
“Good fuckin’ girl. Takin’ two cocks at once,” Joel remarks.
You hum in response, tears welling up in your eyes from the intense feeling. With one last slam of Joel’s hips, you cum around his cock. The muscles in your core contract erratically, sending you into a state of pure bliss. Tommy ruts his hips into your mouth, spilling his cum down your throat. You feel the fever finally start to subside as both men release their spend inside you. Tommy pulls out of your mouth and leans back, putting his cock back in his jeans. You look at Joel who’s still inside you, holding onto your hips tightly. His eyes are closed, his jaw slack. He looks completely blissed out himself. It isn’t until his cock goes soft inside you that he pulls out.
“How’d you find this one?” Tommy asks, putting his shirt back on.
“She found me,” Joel says.
“I’m glad I did,” you sigh.
Once you’ve all come down from your respective highs, you sit up as Tommy grabs your clothes and hands them to you. He unfurls your shirt, looking at the wording with a smirk on his face.
“Mothman is real. We made out. He is a gentle and caring lover?” he laughs.
“Shut up!” Joel says.
“Oh don’t get so defensive, Joel! You know it’s true!”
The two men help you get dressed and help you off your feet. You walk back to your car together before parting ways for the night.
“Gonna go fly around or something?” you say to Joel.
“Something like that,” he responds, kissing you one last time before disappearing back into the forest with Tommy. You drive back to the hotel in silence, still in shock from what just happened. But as you park, your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Joel.
New annual tradition?
You’re certainly not objecting.
End note: The New Jersey dig was all in good fun please don’t come for me 😭 Half of my family is from there 💀
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
Mothman Joel hype squad: @corazondebeskar @clawdee @covetyou @drunk-and-capable @pr0ximamidnight
@ozarkthedog @schnarfer @frogjumps-world @wreckdwolf
@dugiioh @tishmeister @tuquoquebrute @aphroditesblunt @milla-frenchy @casa-boiardi @morgaussy @arcadian-times
@silentraccoon @minispidey @pedrostories @endofthexline
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller smut#tommy miller fanfiction#tommy miller x f!reader#joel miller x f!reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedrostories#mothman!joel#tommy miller x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal joel miller
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