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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months ago

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WINTER HEAT

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,1k

Summary: Joel helps you to get warm after a patrol.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, FLUFF, comfort, kinda grumpy and sunshine reversed, soft!Joel, reader hates winter (me-coded), Joel’s reading glasses, consensual somno, wet dreams, pet names, fingering, squirting, unprotected piv, creampie. No tlou2 spoilers! Reader has no specific physical features.

A/n: this is written for @sizzlingcloudmentality and @guiltyasdave ‘s Writing through the seasons challenge. Thank you for such a cool event, lovelies!💞 I got Winter with Joel and a wonderful mb that you can see at the end of the fic❤️ Kisses to my love @milla-frenchy for the fireplace idea and for beta-ing💋 And a shout out to a blizzard we had here in April that fueled my hate for the cold :/ Anyway, I hope you all will like the story and it brings you comfort, too. Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You arrived in Jackson in spring. The sun was bright and warm and the town looked heavenly in its golden rays. The white mountain tops against the blue of the endless sky took your breath away. You felt at home right away, welcomed by the beauty of nature, greeted by the kind people who lived there. Although, one person in particular stood out to you immediately.

Tall, broad and handsone, with a ’don’t fuck with me’ glare, a man by the name Joel was asked to help you settle in your new place. You got to know him better when he became your first patrol partner — experienced and capable, Joel was chosen to keep an eye on a newbie like you. At first, you scoffed at him teaching you things you already knew, but as soon as you proved yourself to be an excellent shot, cool headed and careful, Joel stopped acting like your babysitter. You two worked so well together, that no one wanted to separate you afterwards.

Days passed and it became obvious that Joel and you were a perfect match not only as patrol partners. Like two lonely souls you drifted towards each other and a month after meeting him, you found yourself sleeping in his bed, and a week later living in his house.

You heard rumours about his past here and there, but it never bothered you. Who hadn’t done some shit during a literal apocalypse? Once a drunk guy at ‘The Tipsy Bison’ called Joel a monster and immediately got bitch-slapped by you. You were fuming, but Joel remained calm and led you away, his arm around your waist.

You couldn’t believe what some were saying. Joel was caring and kind and you were happy to share your present and your future with him, to help each other heal the wounds of the past.

The summer came and Joel made it magical. Your patrols felt more like dates — the scent of meadows in the air, two of you on a horseback, talking and laughing quietly, trying not to attract clickers. You relished every minute with him, even out of the safety of the town walls.

Fortunately, you had enough time to get lost in Joel completely, forget the dangers of the world you were living in and focus on its beauty.

Your now common home became your favourite place. You spent every possible moment outside in the backyard, basking in the sun, flowers in your hair, Joel’s lips on your neck. He grumbled about his aching knees but still fucked you on the grass every time you were sunbathing in your simple bikini you’d found at the clothes shop.

“Can’t walk past when you’re splayed like this,” he gruffed in your ear, thrusting his cock into you, your bikini bottoms pulled to the side.

“I was —ahh- jus’ enjoying the sun, Joel.”

“Yeah and now I'm enjoyin you.”

You felt his smile on your cheek and playfully licked his sweaty face, earning a light slap on your hip and a low chuckle from the man. When he grazed that magical spot inside your core, you squeezed your eyes shut and came on his cock, your loud moan fused with the bird chirping in the tree over your heads.

Now

You’re shielding your eyes with your gloved hand, covering them from a chilling wind. A shiver hits your body so hard that even Joel notices you trembling.

”Gonna be home soon, honey!” he shouts to you, grabbing the reins of his horse tighter as you two are riding to the gates. You grumble an ‘ok’, which immediately gets swallowed by the howling of the blizzard, and try to keep your teeth from banging but in vain.

As soon as you get home, you throw off your clothes, the cold woven into every inch of the fabric, and run upstairs to the only place that can warm you up - a bath. When Joel comes home from the stables, you’ve already dried yourself, put on a few layers of home clothes and nestled under a duvet.

This is how he finds you in the bedroom — an unmoving lump on the bed.

You feel the mattress dip next to you, a light pat lands on your ass.

“Ya hungry?”

“No.” Your voice is barely audible, your sad eyes set on the window. Joel sighs and asks softly,

“What is it, baby?”

“I hate winter. Hate snow. I’m tired of freezing my ass off every patrol.”

Joel hums and after following your line of vision stares at the blizzard, raging outside.

“I can make you some hot tea.”

”I don’t want any tea,” you mumble, covering your face with the duvet, hiding your sour expression and trying to warm up your still cold nose. Joel’s heavy hand rests on your back and he starts slowly rubbing it, giving you the comfort that you need so much yet refuse to accept because of your mood.

“What if I ask Tommy to assign you something else?”

“No!”

You yank the duvet off your face and glare at him.

“Don’t! I’m not a quitter.”

Joel stares at you, his brows raised, and you add, a little softer now, “I'll be fine.”

Your tone is far from fine and Joel knows that it’s better to leave you alone right now.

“Ok, I’m gonna have dinner. Hope you’ll join me.”

He gets up and leaves the bedroom. You watch the blizzard for a few minutes and then fall asleep, your body exhausted by constant shivering.

You wake up when it’s dark outside, the clock says you’ve slept for 3 hours. The wind has calmed down and fluffy snowflakes are floating by the window. You hate to leave the bed but your stomach is grumbling and, not risking the cold of the room creeping into your cocoon of warmth, you wrap the duvet around yourself and head downstairs.

You see Joel crouching in front of the fireplace in the living room, his back to you. He’s wearing a white tee and a pair of sweatpants and just the sight of his exposed arms makes you shiver.

“Hey,” you call softly, hating to startle him, and when he doesn’t hear you, because of the crackle of the fire or his bad ear, you say his name louder. Joel glances back and you see the fire burning bright behind him.

“Wow. Big one.” You widen your eyes, watching Joel carefully stir the logs.

“Made it for ya. And this.”

He nods to a pile of pillows and blankets, lying on the floor.

“Are we making a fort?” you laugh, looking at the mess on the floor, and Joel glares up at you with a fake annoyance in his sparkling eyes.

“‘s for you to sit on.”

“Oh,” you nod, realizing that he’s made this cozy warming place for you.

“Sit down. I’ll bring you dinner.”

“Oh,” you repeat but now your voice wavers and you get overcome with love and gratitude for the man. How could anyone call him a monster? And how the hell did you get so lucky?

You have your dinner in your makeshift nest, your eyes set on the fire dancing vividly in the fireplace, while Joel is reading next to you on the couch, the flames reflecting in his glasses.

The orange light is the only thing illuminating the room and you get mesmerized by the changing shadows on the walls. Your duvet is a cape on your shoulders right now, the heat from the fire warming you perfectly.

“Thank you, Joel,” you say, placing the empty plate on the side table and throwing the duvet off. He hums but his eyes are still set on the book.

You stand on your knees between his legs and tentatively take the book out of his hands. Your lips curve with a mischievous smile as you pull him down by his wrist.

“Nah-ah, I ain’t sittin on the floor.”

“Hey, you made this comfy bed, now come join me. Please,” you add, your puppy eyes begging.

Joel sighs, takes his glasses off and gets up with a grumble. He settles next to you in front of the fireplace, leans against the couch, and you quickly get comfortable between his legs, your back against his broad chest. His arms wrap around you and you smile like a cat in the sun.

It’s much easier for you to apologize when you’re not looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I’ve been a grumpy grump.”

“‘s ok. I know you’re snappy when you’re cold. Or hungry. Or sleepy. Or..”

“OK, stop it!” you laugh, playfully hitting his forearm. “You make me sound like such a pleasure to live with.”

“You are a pleasure. It’s jus‘ winter.”

“Yeah. I hate winter.”

You sink into his embrace and a warm wave runs from the place between your legs up to your belly and then chest. A happy sigh falls from your lips — fed, warmed up, wrapped in Joel’s arms, you finally feel content.

You tilt your head up to look at Joel and he gives you a soft smile, the light of the fire making his handsome face golden. His gaze slides from your eyes to your mouth before he leans down and kisses you. His lips are chapped, his beard is scruffy and harsh against your delicate skin, but you’ve never had a more tender kiss in your life.

Craving more, you part your lips to let him slip inside and he licks into your mouth, tasting you. You're languidly making out, but with the flames of the fire in front of you, and the furnace that is Joel Miller at your back, you get overheated in seconds and start squirming between Joel’s legs. You whine into his mouth and he parts from you, his brow raised up in question.

“Mm?”

“Too hot.” You sit up with a grunt while Joel looks extremely pleased with himself.

“Good. You’re finally warm.”

“I’m not warm, Joel, I’m hot,” you complain and start pulling your sweater and a long sleeve off, but immediately get tangled in the layers.

“D’ya need a hand?” Joel chuckles, watching you struggle. You’re huffing and puffing until he hears a muffled ‘yeah’ behind all the clothes and helps you to take the excess off. Finally, you can breathe, left wearing a tee with nothing underneath. You don’t remember the last time you had only a t-shirt on at home, but the fire has warmed up the air so nicely that you don’t feel it on your skin at all.

You lean back against Joel’s chest again, his arms find their place around your shoulders, and it takes only a few minutes of cozy silence and Joel’s slow breathing at your ear to lull you to sleep.

You dream of summer and Joel. He's lying in your backyard, right on the grass, waiting for you with his arms open, and you fall into his embrace like it's the warmest ocean. He rolls you onto your back, pinning you with his comforting weight, and gives you a kiss. It's a hot day and your back dampens with sweat, but you don't squirm under him, don't show a trace of discomfort. There isn't any. You revel in the heat of the sun over your heads, in the warmth of Joel's body, big and strong, caging you against the soft grass.

A wave of heat rises deep inside your core, when Joel's hand slithers between your bodies and he cups your pussy over your clothes. His thick fingers, confident but gentle, start massaging your folds, and you moan into his mouth, slowly melting into your underwear. You break the kiss, and, wishing to see his dear face, flutter your eyes open.

Instead of Joel, a bright orange light appears in front of you, but it's not the summer sun you've been dreaming about. The burning fireplace blinds you for a second and, startled by its intensity, you jerk.

"Shhh, baby, ‘s fine."

You hear a soft baritone, feel a firm chest at your back, and reality slowly seeps back into your mind, calming you down.

“Joel,“ you croak and a sudden whimper falls from your lips, when you realize that not everything in the dream was the result of your imagination. You look down and see Joel’s hand cupping your pussy over your panties and leggings, his thumb gently rubbing your folds. It moves just over your covered clit, stimulating it slowly, nonetheless building your pleasure drop by drop.

“Joel,” you murmur again but it’s a moan now, coated in need and want. He presses his lips to your temple, his voice echoes your desire.

“I’m here, honey. Jus’ playin with her a little. ‘s ok?”

“Mmm, always,” you breathe out as your finger traces the veins on his hand. The hand that protects you, takes care of you, makes you see stars.

His palm is resting on the place that belongs to him and he has a right to use you whenever he pleases. You don’t mind one bit. You talked about it before and you gave him a green light to do whatever he wanted to you in your sleep. The idea of waking up wet and stretched around his cock or with his lips wrapped around your clit always made your head spin.

Now the warmth of his hand seeps through your leggings and your cunt purrs like a kitten at the feather-light stimulation. Your eyelids get so heavy it’s impossible to keep them open, and you close them, concentrating on Joel’s fingers dancing over your pussy. You take a deep breath and drift off again.

Your body slumps against Joel’s chest so he knows you’re sleeping. He keeps holding your beating heat in his hand, enjoying your warmth, feeling your pulse against his skin. Soon his composure gets overtaken by the need to feel you fully - your wetness on his skin, your pussy fluttering in his palm, your body unraveling around his fingers, flooding them with your juices.

Carefully, inch by inch, holding his breath, Joel pulls your leggings and panties down, not too low, but enough to free your beautiful cunt. The heat of the fire brings the scent of your need to Joel’s nostrils and he takes a deep breath, sharp and shaky, devouring it, his desire for you already stiff in his pants.

Joel knows you need him too, judging by a soft moan escaping your half parted lips, and he hooks your leg with his knee and opens you up, so his hand could find place between your thighs. He cups your naked cunt and his cock twitches and grows, demanding to stuff your soft hole. He contemplates taking you right now, fucking you slowly and steadily, keeping you asleep, but he loves playing with your pussy too much. She’s always warm and wet for him and the little noises you make are the prettiest he’s ever heard.

The sight of your wet folds, glistening with arousal, sends a shiver down his spine and Joel slightly squeezes your pussy in his huge hand. You hum and he reads it like a signal.

Joel’s middle finger pushes between your slick petals and into your warm hole, carefully, knuckle after knuckle. He grits his teeth, swallowing a groan that’s crawling up his throat, while he feels just how wet you’re for him, your pussy craving him too.

He moves his finger in and out a few times and then pushes another one in.

The effect on you is immediate. Your chest starts rising and falling fast, your eyelids flutter and you moan again and again, your song is barely audible with the fire crackling so close. Joel’s fingers are moving in and out your cunt, but one thing is missing and his desperation for it grows. Your beautiful eyes.

”Honey,” he calls through your sleep, “please.. need you to wake up.”

You open your eyes with a long whimper, a wave of pleasure swallowing you all at once, it overwhelms you. Joel’s fingers buried inside your hole, your thighs already trembling, your belly heaving, your core burning like the fire in front of your eyes.

“Gonna make you come… Look at me… Need to see..”

Joel’s voice is strained with lust, impatience turns his breath heavy, and you tilt your head to face him, to give him what he wants. You desire it, too, desperately, to come, to unravel with him drinking up the pleasure on your face.

Joel manhandles you to rest your head against his shoulder and you bite your lip, seeing what you’ve done to him— his eyes are dark as the night outside, his lips are wet, his forehead is glistening with sweat. The sight sends a new surge of wetness from your pussy and into his palm and you feel and hear a rumble in his chest. .

Joel feels you perfectly, sees your face perfectly — the tears on your lashes from the bliss he’s giving you, your half parted lips, ready to sing for him. He doesn’t make you wait and resumes pumping his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them inside you while the heel of his palm is rhythmically hitting your clit, drawing shamelessly loud moans out of you. Soon the heat boils over in your core.

“Oh, Joel… don’t stop, please,” you beg, your needy voice mixing with Joel’s breathing and the squelching of your sopping pussy.

“Never.. never,” he assures you and leans down to give you a heady kiss. He scratches your delicate skin with his beard and moustache but you don’t care — any discomfort is drowned in the ocean of pleasure, devastating your body.

Joel presses his forehead to yours, but his hand is moving tirelessly, generously filling the glass of your pleasure, until it overflows, and your pussy explodes around his fingers. Wetness sprays out of your hole, wetting Joel’s hand, the blanket under you, your quivering thighs.

“Holy shit…,” you gasp at the sight but the quickly following orgasm hits you so hard, your head falls on his shoulder and, squeezing your eyes tight, you come with a loud cry. You’re moaning and shaking against Joel, every cell in your body lights up, your mind shuts down, while Joel’s fingers are fucking into your drenched hole again and again, dragging out your unforgettable climax. The squelching would probably make you embarrassed any other day but right now it sounds like music, a serenade of your love and lust for each other.

When the burn of overstimulation licks at your core, you close your legs and Joel pulls his fingers out. He drags his soaked hand along your body, up, up, and with your hazy eyes, you see a wet path he’s drawing on your skin.

“Look at that,” Joel pants, excitement rich in his voice. “Ya never done it with me before.”

“Never done it with anyone before,” you breathe out, locking eyes with him.

“Really?” He furrows his brows, as if in disbelief, but his chest expands with pride under your back, a corner of his mouth rises.

You’ve just had the best orgasm of your life but the hunger comes back quickly when you’re with Joel. Having given yourself just a few moments of respite, you clumsily get on your knees, your limbs shaky, throw your clothes off and plop down on the blankets, tugging Joel down with you.

“Need you… imagine how.. how wet I am...”

“Oh damn, right.”

Joel’s tired, you can see it in his droopy eyes, but with the agility of a much younger man, he hurries to settle between your spread legs. He’s still panting, pulling his pants and boxers down and freeing his hard cock, but suddenly he freezes.

“What is it?” You ask, your brows pulled together. ”You ok?”

Joel’s hand holding his leaking cock, the other on your bent knee, his gaze is sliding over your glistening cunt, your sweaty body as he rasps,

“Yeah.. ‘m jus’ lookin. You’re beautiful. In this light…glowin like an angel.”

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, feeling a lump in your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. The fire is warming you up so well, but nothing compares to the soft heat of Joel’s love. Needing him close, you reach your arms out to him and he gets on top of you, holding himself up on an elbow, and slides his hot tip between your dripping folds.

”Oh, fuck. You’re killin me, baby.”

“Hope not,” you giggle and sneak your hand between your bodies. Your palm wraps around the base of his stiff cock and you mumble,

“Let me.” Joel nods and plants both elbows on the blanket while you notch your pussy with the head of his member.

You move your hips up, spread your thighs wider and slowly start piercing yourself with his cock. You both moan at the feeling of being united, and when Joel’s length is fully sheathed inside your cunt, his lips brush yours as he murmurs,

”So warm, baby— wanna live inside you.”

You smile against his mouth and kiss him. Like a missing puzzle piece, Joel always makes you feel complete. Thoroughly opened by his fingers, you’re taking his cock with ease, while he’s rolling his hips into you at a slow but steady pace, and you meet him halfway, desperate to make it less strenuous on his exhausted body.

Joel’s face finds place in the crook of your neck and you’re holding him close, running your fingers over his skin, through his hair, caressing him as softly as you can.

His eyes soon find yours as he rasps,

“‘s too good, baby… gonna come soon. ‘m sorry.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Come, my love.” His eyes radiate wrinkles as he smiles at your words.

“Where, honey?”

“Inside. Please, inside.”

”Hnggg, want my hot cum?” Joel grunts, picking up the pace of his hips, ”to keep your pussy warm, too?”

“Ahhh, yeah, warm and wet for longer.”

Lust is shining in his gaze as Joel gruffs,

“Give me one more and I’ll fill you up.”

Knowing well how to make you unwind, he bends down and takes your nipple in his hot mouth. He starts sucking on it, swirling his tongue around the bud and it makes your eyes roll back into your head before a second orgasm starts shaking your body, your pussy choking Joel’s cock. He squeezes you between his strong arms and begins coming, too. His heavy balls are sticking to your ass, as he keeps thrusting into you with every rope of cum his cock pumps into your already sloppy pussy. He adds more and more and you don’t stop milking him with your clenching walls until the last drop is deep inside you.

Not pulling out, Joel moves you both on the side and you’re holding each other, your bodies tingling in the afterglow.

Your face is buried in his neck and your giggle comes out muffled.

“If you keep warming me up like this, I might survive this winter.”

“If ya come for me like this, I’m gonna do it every damn day… till the spring comes.” You feel Joel’s smile against your forehead.

“No, ‘s too much. I’ll get dehydrated,” you laugh and he chuckles with you before you say,

“After every patrol then, ‘k?”

“Ya got it.”

Joel lies on his back and you take your favorite sleeping position- your head on his shoulder, your leg bent over his thigh, Joel’s arm holding you close.

Soon you hear his slow and deep breathing- he’s asleep. You watch the fire dance for a few minutes, remembering the hard patrol, the cold tormenting your body and soul, the wonderful surprise Joel has given you, and a thought crosses your mind,

“Maybe winter isn’t that bad.”

With a happy smile on your lips you follow Joel and fall asleep, too.

moodboard by @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality 💞

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback means the world🌺

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name @tateypots

People who were interested in the wip post (no pressure to read, bbs) @604to647 @arcanefox207 @sawymredfox @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

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thefandomthings · 1 year ago

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5 fluff zuko

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

Fluff prompt #5: "I have to go but-one more kiss."

Pairing: Zuko x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, slight angst, Zuko being Zuko. ¡¡SPOILERS!!

Notes: Bluntest request I have ever gotten (It's from my sister 😶). Takes place in Book 3. Ep 14. @shellbell4

Prompt event

To say you aren't happy that Zuko and Katara decided to go on a 'Revenge mission', is an understatement. You aren't close with Katara, never have been. On two different ends of the spectrum. You both maintain a respectable relationship between each other, BUT that doesn't mean you like one another.

Zuko is completely aware of this. Having this conversation with him multiple times about how she looks at him, or what happened under Bai Sing Sei. But as you know, he isn't to great at reading people and how they are feeling. And it doesn't help that he is the one who suggested it, stings like alcohol on a open wound.

You are currently sitting against one of the dock posts, watching as Katara and Zuko get Appa ready to fly. The nasty look on your face is extremely noticable, Sokka and Aang are both looking at each then between the three of you.

Zuko finishes strapping a few things on Appas saddle and slides down the fluffy sky bison. He might not be the best at reading social cues but he can tell just by the way your eyes burn into his soul, you are pissed and hurt.

He cautiously approaches you and slides down the post next to you, his left arm resting on his knee, his right hand playing with the grass and dirt; picking and prodding.

You don't look at him, your eyebrows are furrowed in anger, you mouth set in scowl. Zuko carefully puts his arm around your shoulders. You don't push him away, but you don't lean into him like you usually do.

"Did you really have to suggest going with her?" You finally spoke, turning your head to look at him. Zuko has a frown on his face as he looks back at you, honey eyes soft and determined.

"She needs closure, Y/n. And Sokka and Aang won't go with her, so I have to." His right hand slides into your own, squeezing it softly. You know he is right, after all he's been through he just wants to make peace with the Gaang, especially Katara.

You sigh finally leaning into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Zukos' pale cheeks burn pink, his arm squeezing you closer. He leans down and kisses you softly, his dry lips molding with yours before he pulls away.

"Zuko, let's go." Katara hollers from her spot on Appas neck/head. Zuko sighs and stands up, looking down at you with a soft smile.

"We'll be back soon, okay?" He ruffles your hair gently and starts to walk away. You smile slightly, already missing him even if he isn't gone yet.

Zuko then pauses a few feet away and you watch him curiously. He turns on his heel and speed walks back to you. Zuko leans down holding your chin with his forefinger and thumb.

"I have to go but-one more kiss." He presses his lips to yours longer, taking the breath from your lungs. "For good luck."

#thefandomthings #zuko x reader #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #sokka x reader #katara x reader #aanga x reader #toph x reader #hades #prompt event #writing prompt #legend of korra

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mariatesstruther · 1 year ago

Text

feeling deep feelings about tommy feeling not smart enough for maria like wow @hypnotisedfireflies u ate that fr

#him wanting to go back to school when hes older and with maria in a modern setting #he makes an offhand joke about hoe the husband of texas’s best layer should at least have one degree #or some offhand joke that comes from somewhere #and she’s immediately like NOPE nope nope nope #u look here tommy miller youre the best man i know #the smartest man i know #no i mean it #ur a living breathing fucking calculator and u draw like michaelangelo #‘he didnt draw maria he sculpted i think’#see??? who tf knows that #youre brilliant for me perfect for me #everything i ever needed and more than i ever wanted #if u want to get your degree go get it #but frankly i dont give two fucks about it #tommy x maria #the tipsy bison #tommy miller #maria miller

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zevrra · 2 months ago

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pls can u write a jealous! joel who has just settled into jackson after bringing ellie back from the hospital! if you’d like, can you please have reader be pissed at him because he made her stay behind while he went to drop off ellie:)

CHEMISTRY ✮

𝗳𝘁. jealous/jackson!joel x ex-gf fem!reader

𝘄𝗰. 5k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: straight smut, age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, cussing, unprotected p in v, coming inside v, feelings involved…

𝗮/𝗻: this is way longer than i wanted it to be but like not even mad about it tbh skdhdjj anyway i hope you enjoy!! :3

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

It had been almost a year since you had last been in Boston. Since you had last seen him. Joel Miller. An ex-lover of yours; who chose a job over staying with you— all because he couldn’t come to terms with the feelings he had for you.

You had crossed the country to find this little settlement you heard other raiders talk about. Packed up and moved away from Boston after waiting and waiting for Joel; who left you cold and lying in your bed alone.

And you were finally starting to be happy again in your little corner of the world. Patrols, tasks, a drink at the bar, meeting other men or women to fill that little hole Joel had left inside your heart.

And now he was here, in Jackson, standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison, watching you with that heavy gaze you remembered all too well.

Your eyes locked, almost at the exact same time, as if sensing each other’s presence or feeling some kind of pull towards each other.

The live music pumps loud in your ears but the blood rushing to your head is louder. You can feel your pick of the man for the night kissing against your throat, his hands wandering along your body, but you’re not focused on him in the slightest.

But Joel sure is.

Even across the room you can see the storm behind his eyes. The anger, the confusion, the jealousy.

His boots are loud and heavy as he stalks across the hardwood. You try to detach yourself from the man grinding up against you but Joel is faster. One large hand is grabbing the collar of the other man’s shirt, dragging him entirely out of your personal space, and tossing him against the bar’s floor like he’s a damned rag doll.

“Shit! Joel!” You shout, grabbing onto the thick of his bicep and dragging him backwards.

Joel stumbles back, only because it’s you tugging on him.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands off her.” Joel growls, pointing at the man thrown to the floor.

You utter a swift apology to the guy, whose name you didn’t even know, before you’re dragging Joel towards the closest exit.

When the cold winter of Wyoming hits your skin, it feels like your entire body is steaming with how flushed and angry you are. Joel’s just a step behind you so when you suddenly stop and swivel on your heel to face him, he’s standing directly behind you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You scoff, pure disgust dripping off your tongue. It tastes sour, unfamiliar to you when you were so used to speaking to him with so much love.

Joel’s eyebrows knit in confusion. As if he half expected you to fling yourself into his arms and cry his name at his sudden return.

“Me? What about you? He was all over ya!” Joel sneers with a deep frown settling onto his face.

You laugh in disbelief at his statement, unable to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Yeah, Joel, that’s the whole fuckin’ point.” You curse under your breath, rubbing a hand across your face. The warmth of a headache was already beginning to crawl its way across your mind.

“And you think that’s alright?” Joel huffs in similar disgust, pushing his jacket aside so his hands can settle on his hips.

You roll your eyes at him, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “I ‘member you leavin’ me back in Boston, so yeah, I think it’s alright.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “You promised to wait for me.” He whispers, seething with jealousy and anger.

His words chill you more than the cold of Wyoming does, makes you shudder and hug yourself a little tighter to fight off the cold.

“Dammit Joel! I did wait! I waited for months before deciding to move on. You still left me! Choose a job over me!” You shout right back, almost pushing up onto your tippy toes to be eye level with Joel just so he could also see the anger in your eyes.

Joel scowls down at you. “Apparently you didn’t wait that long. Was the bed even cold?”

That’s it. Those words nail the coffin close. You had told yourself that maybe, if you had ever run into Joel again, you’d find a small little piece of your heart left big enough to forgive him for asking you to stay behind and wait for him.

“I can’t believe this.” You whisper, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fuck you, Joel. Don’t talk to me again.”

You spin on your heel, demanding your legs to move, stalking through the snow in search of the path that would take you home. You’d forget everything in the morning. Boston, him, those months of waiting—everything.

“Now wait here—“ Joel’s voice chases after you and he takes three simple strides to catch up to you, a strong hand grabbing your bicep and holding you still.

You try once to shake out of his grasp but it doesn’t work, he’s got ahold of you now. He turns you back to him, forcing you to face him, as he plants himself before you once again.

“I’m sorry.” Joel says, his breath fogging up into the cold night’s air. “I’m…a fucking idiot. And I’m sorry.”

The words make you feel a little lightheaded hearing them. Joel, apologizing? The man you knew back in Boston, the raider you knew, would have never said sorry. Not even if his life depended on it.

What the fuck happened on this “job” he took?

Silence stretches between the two of you for a few heartbeats. Letting his apology sink further and further into your skin and bones.

“You don’t get to just…apologize and make everything okay again.” You whisper, eyes fluttering under his gaze. Suddenly the cold has reduced your anger to nothing but smothered coals. You wouldn’t admit that maybe your heart was betraying you just a little…because this definitely wasn’t the man you knew roughly a year ago.

“I know, I know.” Joel’s voice cools, the anger and jealousy subsiding, leaving just a hollow pain to his tone. “I’m sorry. I just, dammit, I don’t know. Seeing you with someone else…all this time, I thought maybe you were gone…and I would never see ya again. But…think it’s worse seein’ ya with someone else.”

Your heart pounds inside your chest at his words. This…vulnerable side of him was something you had not expected to ever see or hear. Listening to him mutter his feelings and his apologies all in one night? Unheard of. Even if it was all over something as silly as jealousy…it was strange; new. Made you feel like a little girl with butterflies in her stomach.

“Well, I didn’t die, as you can see.” You reply, embarrassment fanning over your cheeks. Silly to feel so…young and dumb again. But you weren’t dead, even though the last several months had tried their hardest to kill you. “Now, let go. I’d like to go home.”

Joel doesn’t move an inch though. Instead he’s stepping closer to you, his fingers trailing down the length of your arm until they gently wrap around your wrist. He brings the back of your chilled fingers to the cusp of his warm lips, placing a tender kiss against your skin.

“Let me make it up to you, shuga,” Joel whispers, slow and heavy in his Texan accent. Knowing exactly how to tug on your heart strings.

You narrow your eyes, glancing over him once more. Time wasn’t kind to him either, it seemed. The graying in his hair was worsening. You could see at least a handful of new scars on his face. But something else had changed…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. And you couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a really fucking bad thing at the moment.

You swipe your hand from his grasp, the cold holding your hand now as his warmth leaves the tips of your fingers. You glance towards the ground and the snow underneath your boots, tapping your foot ever so slightly as you try and decide what to do.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you shove your hand into the pocket of your jacket. No more hand holding; for now. “Don’t disappoint me, cowboy.” You fire back at him, calling him by his old nickname to rile him up— before you lead him to your little home in Jackson.

You expect the roughness. Expect the door to slam behind you with him stripping you out of your jacket the second he passes the door— like the good ole days. Raider Joel wanted to devour you. Wanted to taste every inch of you while you screamed his name. He used to need the pleasure to numb his mind. Needed you so badly it hurt him.

But now it’s just a little different.

The door closes softer when you arrive back to your place. The light stays off, no visitors right now, but with the help of a little moonlight you can still see his face and weathered eyes.

He stands right in front of you. Taking in every inch of you with his hungry gaze. The way your hair falls is even prettier than he remembered. How you still smelled faintly of some pretty floral soap. The way your eyes still scan his face, looking at him like he was everything you had ever wanted.

Joel reaches behind his back to take off his jacket. It’s slow and precise, stripping it off his broad upper half, before letting it fall onto the back of a nearby rocking chair. His fingers work on rolling up the sleeves to his flannel, pushing the fabric farther and farther along his tanned forearms.

His fingers move to brush against your side, pushing up and up until he’s stripping you of your own jacket— slow and steady—before he tosses your coat right next to his, moving to work on getting you out of your shirt. Strong hands grab the hem and tug it leisurely above your head. Taking his time in undressing you— teasing you.

But fuck if the slow pace he sets isn’t almost a little painful. Everything he does, every move he makes, feels so strategic and meticulously planned out— like he’s been thinking about doing this with you every single day since you two strayed from each other.

The worst part, you think, is that he does it all in silence. He doesn’t speak or say anything for the moment. No quip or dirty jab to get under your skin to make him fuck you faster. It’s just him, and his eyes, drinking you in like it’s the first time he’s ever seen something so delicate before…and he wants to be careful not to spook you.

It makes your heart pound, hard, against your ribs. Playing a melody that only he could hear as every precise touch is slowly driving you crazy; forcing your lungs to expand faster to the point that you’re panting standing still as stone.

His fingers raise and slowly push back some hair behind your ear. You flinch just a little, expecting the rougher side of him to take over but instead his soft gaze returns to scanning your face.

The tips of his fingers trail down to follow along your jawline, where he tilts your head back. His lips brush against your forehead first, your temple second, and then finally— ever so gently— he lays his lips onto yours.

The kiss is tender and soft, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. But when you stand firm, following his lead, he presses on. Placing another firmer kiss against your lips. And another. One more, faster, more daring. Another one that melts you into him.

Joel’s hand leaves your jaw to cradle the back of your neck, pulling your mouth closer, closer, closer, into his. The quick pecks are replaced by longing, desired filled, hot, open mouth kisses. His pace quickens until the living room is filled with the sound of your chaotic and sloppy make out; where tongue and teeth alike collide.

Your lips gnash into his own, breath quickening with each twist of your mouth. Your entire body hums with his touch. Can feel his thumb rub soothingly across your skin as his other hand settles on your hip, dragging you just that much closer into his body. You’re chest to chest and the thought of you two being perfectly made to fit each other crosses your mind before it’s gone; being replaced by a swipe of his tongue.

You groan as the taste of him spreads like honey, sticky and sweet inside your mouth. It’s warm and welcoming as you roll your tongue into his. And you kiss him with as much vigor and eagerness as you can muster.

You’re a little ashamed to admit you’re the first to break, gasping for air and clutching onto the front of his flannel. Your head is spinning but Joel never falters, not even a little.

“Bedroom?” Joel whispers under his breath, lips roaming down the curve of your jaw. He kisses firmly down onto your throat, his beard just barely scratching across your throat. His teeth nip at your skin while he moves his hands across the curve of your body, molding you in your hands like a precious sculpture– until he lays his hands heavy onto your hips again.

“Bedroom.” You respond, jerking your head in the direction of the bedroom sitting just behind you.

Without another word, he backs you up into your bedroom, guiding you with his fingers tangling into the loops of your jeans. Somehow in the mix of the make out session, he’s skillfully stripped you of your bra, leaving you topless as you make your way to the bed.

Joel walks you right up to the edge of your bed, forcing your knees to buckle, and lets you fall onto your mattress with a whoosh. He doesn’t let you relax though, when he’s already working you out of your jeans.

He strips you of your jeans. Quick and easy, and as soon as the fabric hits the floor he’s slotting himself between your thighs. The flat of his palm smooths upwards across the curve of your cunt, already aching and begging for him.

“Lace?” Joel mumbles, fingers rubbing against the lacy panties you wear, right where your clit is. His lips hover over your lower abdomen. His warm breath spreads along your womb before he places a tender kiss against your tummy.

You shiver at his words but still manage to roll your eyes, even as his fingers press against your core. You silently curse your body for betraying you so easily. Already drenched for him with barely any stimulation like you were back in Boston.

“Shut up,” You sigh, teasingly, pushing your fingers through his graying hair. “Just enjoy. I had to trade some serious shit for ‘em.”

“Mhm.” Joel breathes. He places another hot kiss against your womb, his fingers hooking around the thin part of your panties and giving them a sharp tug. The fabric gives way to his strong hands easily; ripping the lace right off your body.

You gasp as he tears away your underwear, eyes widening as you stare down at him with a shocked look. “Joel!? What the fuck!”

“You wore these for other men.” Joel growls, soft and warm, lips barely just brushing against the bare skin of your stomach as he speaks. “I’ll get you another pair…that you’ll only wear for me.” He chuckles, dark and deep from within his chest, sliding his thumb up against the bundle of nerves that call for him.

“Ugh, enough of this jealousy bullshit.” You mumble, settling your legs heavy against his shoulders. Oh he was for sure gonna make it up to you tonight; especially after ripping your underwear.

“Pretend all you want,” Joel whispers. Another kiss against your womb. “I know you’re enjoying this…” He trails off. His thumb slides away from your clit, threading through the wet seam of your cunt, circling that fluttering little place that is increasingly coming to yearn for him. “Just look here, you’re soaked.”

You can feel the heat of a blush stretching across your face at his words. Damn him for being right…and damn your body again for betraying you!

“Well then you better fuckin’ do somethin’ about it, cowboy.” You huff, tugging slightly on his hair.

Joel laughs at the pet name rolling off your tongue, replacing his thumb with a thick finger he easily slips into the velvet soft of your cunt. “With pleasure.” He mumbles before his lips attach to the flat of your aching core. No more talking, he had work to do.

His tongue darts out immediately, pressing through the folds of your pussy while he curls his finger inside. He returns to his slow pace from before. Drags his finger in and out of your core, making sure you feel every inch, every bump of his knuckle, as he twists and turns it inside of you. Makes you feel the entire length, from the tip of his finger to the base of his knuckle.

Joel’s tongue doesn’t move any faster either. He slowly presses and brushes his tongue along your clit in agonizingly slow rolls. Spit dripping off his tongue to mix with your increasing slick, making it easier for his finger to move in and out— teasing you beyond teasing at this point.

You groan at the fleeting pleasure. Just when you think it’s going to be a rush, a flurry of his fingers stretching you out, he takes it away. He’s moving just enough to leave you wanting more. And damn if he doesn’t know it.

But damn if it wasn’t working wonders on you. Your entire body trembles under his well talented hands; leaving you breathless and trembling. He knew your body so well you’re almost convinced he may have crafted you out of some piece of wood with his bare hands at some point.

Joel twists the finger inside of you until his palm is facing upwards and just when you think he’s going to remove his finger, he slips a second one inside. Your hips lift to meet the sharp thrust of his second finger, moaning his name as your hand tightens in his hair.

His fingers thrust faster inside of you now, just a little more than before but not enough to pull you over the edge. He was saving that for just the right moment. His fingers spread deep inside of you, stretching you out with every thrust, while his tongue flicks back and forth against your clit.

“Joel! Quit teasin’!” You huff, trembling at every deep thrust of his fingers. You can feel him chuckle against your cunt, sending an electric shock through your entire body.

But for once this entire night, he listens to you. Joel’s fingers pick up in pace, thrusting deep and shallow into your core. He doesn’t let you live with that long before his pace changes again; his fingers curl before he’s digging into you. His entire hand is moving up and down, instead of in and out, forcing right into every sensitive spot deep inside. It’s faster and rougher, burning hot through your entire body.

“Fuck!” You whine, lifting your free hand to palm at your closest breast. Once your fingers roll over the nub of your nipple, you know you’re not going to last long at all.

You’ve quickly become coiled tight, ready to leap over the edge, ready for your orgasm to burn right through every inch of your body with every thrust of his fingers and dance of his tongue. Your legs scramble, your thighs tighten, back arches and you’re close, close, close—

But just before that thin line holding you together snaps, Joel removes his fingers and backs off. Edges you straight into a spiraling mess of whines and pleas; exactly what he wants.

“Not yet. Not until I say so, sweetheart.” Joel huffs softly, rubbing calming circles into the thick of your inner thighs to bring you back down to him.

“You asshole…” You groan deeply, sitting up onto your elbows to stare down at him.

Joel’s lips tilt in a smirk, kissing your knee before he straightens up to his full height. “Needy?” He asks with a teasing tone you’re not really used to yet.

You roll your eyes, lifting a weak leg and pushing into his hip, forcing him just a little to stumble backwards.

He’s quick to undress himself then, clearly just as needy as you are, starting with his belt buckle. You listen to him undo the front of his belt before sliding it free from his belt loops. Once he kicks off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, you try your hardest not to stare at the tent under the fabric. Clear as day, leaking, and hard as a rock.

You turn your gaze away briefly, blushing like it’s your first time fucking seeing him…but it was also a little comforting knowing you weren’t the only one enjoying this.

When your gaze returns to him, he’s taking off his flannel shirt, and your breath catches in your throat– but for reasons outside of what was going on.

You stare at his abdomen, where a large scar is smeared across his skin. “This is new…” You whisper, sitting up solely to stretch out to him, trailing your fingers down the scar along his midriff; shaping its size with the tips of your fingers.

“Eh, lil somethin’ I picked up on the job. Call it karma.” Joel responds with a twitch of his lips, a smile, before he tosses his shirt off and onto the floor. He makes himself comfy on the bed where his hands grab hold of you, dragging you up and into his lap.

You stifle a laugh at his joke. Maybe it really was karma for leaving you…but a dark, twisted feeling flutters through your heart briefly. The scenario of him dying somewhere, alone, with maybe the thought of you on his mind— without you ever knowing…the thought hurts much more than you were willing to admit in the moment. But it’s quickly swept away when Joel presses a kiss into your throat.

“Don’t get distracted now. I’m right here.” Joel hums softly, hands sliding up the side of your body.

You instinctively wrap your body around him. Legs hooking behind his back and your arms sliding around his shoulders. Hugging him as close as your bodies would allow.

“Yeah, I gotcha baby.” Joel mumbles in response to your clingy hands. One large hand falls onto your lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles into your skin. His other hand trails down to your knee, where he adjusts the both of you perfectly, lining himself up against the drip of your seam. The tip of his cock sweeps through your drenched lips, gathering any of his spit or your slick onto the head to make it all just a little easier.

Then he steadily, almost cautiously, presses into you. The burn of his cock spears you but the stretch of him is forgiving with the pleasure it brings. His name rolls off the tip of your tongue as your pussy accepts more and more of him– stuffing every inch deep inside of you with ease. Your breath quickens as you suck more of him inside until there’s nothing more for him to give.

He bottoms out, cursing under his breath at the tightness surrounding his cock, gripping your body just a little rougher as he forces himself to still; allowing you to fully catch your breath and relax around him.

When he finally begins to move, Joel rolls into you, slow and steady like he has been all night. He hooks your leg back around his waist, his hand returning to lay heavy on your hip. He tentatively thrusts up into you; not harsh like a storm but more calming, relaxing– like a wave you float on. He reaches deeper than you remember; and with you sitting in his lap, his hands spread out against your hip and back, lips attached to your neck, all your senses sky rocket to an eleven.

“Fuck Joel,” You groan, meeting every slow roll of his hips with your own.

“Mmm, yeah baby, ya like that?” Joel whispers against your skin, sinking his teeth down onto a thicker part of your throat, marking you as his. He was gonna make sure if…this didn't work out, any man for the next few weeks would at least know you were made for someone else.

You don’t…hate it though.

Joel thrusts shallowly but just like with his fingers, he’s easily pressing into every sensitive curve inside your pussy. Your mouth falls open as your bodies connect again and again. You clench around his weeping cock as he bottoms out again and again inside of you with every roll of his hips. Feeling a little victorious as Joel curses under his breath at the tightness wrapping around him but it doesn’t last long when you’re already leaping for that damn ledge he edged you back from earlier.

“Mm, Joel,” You whine his name, fingers kneading into the thick of his shoulders, head tilted back as he places another harsh mark on your throat. And he knows you’re close. Knows everything about you that it makes you want to weep in his arms and stay there with him—forever.

Joel stops though. Edges you yet again and it makes you sob. He just doesn’t want to admit that with his age…he was also reaching the end a little earlier than he used to. It probably didn’t help with the way you moan his name, so sinful yet light— like it was the only word you knew how to speak. Or when you were so wet and drooling all over him; or clenching around him so tight he could see stars.

“Wanna hear you say it,” Joel breathes, fire and ice prickling along your skin. “Say you’re mine.” He adds with a hum against your throat.

Joel stays completely still deep inside of you, throbbing against your velvet walls that scream for him to move.

You bite down on your bottom lip, silencing yourself for a second before just absentmindedly obeying him and his words. You almost want to be difficult, to scream and yell at him that this wasn’t the time and place for his jealous ass to be taking over; but god was it hot. From the start, speaking next to no words to now panting hard against your skin, whispering the filthiest of things.

“C’mon baby…” Joel chuckles softly, rolling his hips to dig deep inside of you– making stars dance across your eyes. “Say it. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

You shiver in his grasp, releasing your bottom lip and letting your mouth fall open to speak what he (and you) both want to hear. “Yours!” You shout, nails digging into the thick of his shoulders.

Joel hardly waits for you to catch your breath before he’s digging deep into your core again. His hips jut forward, picking up his pace the second that word leaves the tip of your tongue. He moves faster, thrusting harsher again and again into your pussy. You swear he’s hitting your womb in this position and it strips any air from your lungs. You feel him deeper and fuller than you’ve ever done so before and you already know you’re not going to last long with the sudden, brutal pace he sets.

“Repeat it.” Joel growls. His grip on your hip tightens, using your body to meet every single one of his thrusts.

“Yours!” You gasp, legs locking tighter around his entire waist. You follow his lead with every single thrust, rolling into meet them. If your mouth was open, you’re sure you’d be drooling from the mind numbing pleasure running it’s coarse throughout your entire body. “Fuck! I’m yours, all yours Joel!” You babble, tears springing to the corner of your eyes.

Joel chuckles deeply, skimming his lips from your throat, where he’s left your skin a blossom of reddening petals, to your jaw. “All mine. No one else gets you. Not ever again…” He mutters, leaning back ever so slightly so he can see your eyes.

Unfocused as much as they are, Joel still captures your gaze. You briefly look into the warmth of his eyes before his lips capture yours. He kisses you once again, buried deep into your quivering cunt, setting a flame beneath your skin.

It doesn’t take long now for your orgasm to spread through your entire womb. It blooms swiftly, taking hold of every one of your senses. His name sticks to your tongue as you coil up tighter around him. Your legs lock behind his back, your hands slide to cup the back of his neck as you kiss him deeper while your orgasm rocks through you. Your hips jerk wildly and you clench down hard around him, gasping between every small part of broken lips.

Joel breaks the kiss this time, gasping wildly for air between clenched teeth. He growls, like a wild animal chasing after its prey, and bites down on his lip hard enough to bleed. He lets his head fall, forehead resting on top of your shoulder as he comes at the same time you do. He continues to roll into your gushing pussy, painting the insides with his own orgasm. Fucks you into overstimulation— broken sobs and the wet sound of splashing off skin echoes in your bedroom— until he’s entirely finished himself.

Then silence stretches. Neither of you move, neither of you speak— only gasp for air. You continue to sit perfectly still in his lap, fingers rubbing into his sweaty skin. His own fingers run soothingly along your back.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Joel breathes, breaking that built up silence, as he comes back down from his own high. His breath is warm across your body like a summer’s sun. “Never leavin’ you again.”

The declaration makes your head lighter than your orgasm ever could. Joel was a different man. Muttering soft words you have never expected to hear from him. But the cherry on top that sends you spiraling into tears?

Three little words.

“I love you.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

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multifandombabe · 2 months ago

Text

Tommy Buries His Sorrows in… You

(Past) Joel Miller x Reader, then Tommy Miller x Joel’s Girlfriend!Reader, Post Joel’s Death

Word count: just under 6k

Warnings: female reader, dead Joel, reader gets w/ Tommy, grief, submissive Tommy if you squint, but also dominant Tommy if you squint too?, smut (duh), p in v sex, surprisingly vanilla, oral (female receiving, iktr), fingering, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls), angst (there’s no getting out of it, i’m sorry), only proofread a little

a/n: for the girlies who want to heal over joel's death in their own sick and twisted way ;)

tagged some lovelies who said they were interested: @venus-written @mmmunson @xodilfluvr @hillaryfluff @endurexxsurvive @pascalslilpunk

It had always been complicated with Tommy.

Back before everything was official with Joel, there had been moments- small, dangerous moments- where Tommy would linger a little too long, smile a little too much, let his hand brush yours in a way that felt like it meant something more.

You hadn’t been with Joel then, not really. You two were still dancing around each other, too stubborn, too scared to admit what you both wanted. And maybe that's why Tommy thought there was a chance.

You remembered one night at the Tipsy Bison, after a few too many beers, when Tommy had leaned so close. Too close, his words slurred and almost as gentle as the hand he had draped around your waist.

His breath had been warm and minty, and you'd felt the tickle of his mustache brush against the shell of your ear when he spoke your name, soft and low, almost reverent. It had sent a shiver down your spine back then, a shiver you hadn’t dared to acknowledge.

You hadn't let him finish what he was going to say. Not because you weren’t flattered, but because Joel had been watching from across the room, his stare heavy, a warning. Because even then, even before Joel had claimed you, some part of you had known you weren’t meant to be Tommy’s.

You were Joel’s girl.

Because when Joel looked at you, really looked at you, it was like you were the only steady thing left in a world built on ash and ruin.

You remembered the night it all changed. It was cold, a brittle sort of chill that bit through your jacket and scraped across your skin. The two of you were standing just outside the town’s walls, where the broken street lamps cast long, crooked shadows over the cracked pavement. You’d been laughing about something, some stubborn argument you had while on patrol, some petty thing that didn’t even matter now, when Joel suddenly fell quiet.

You can still remember the way he looked then: hands jammed deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched like he was bracing for a blow. His eyes, usually so guarded, softened- something raw and desperate bleeding through the cracks.

“I ain’t good at this,” he muttered, voice rough like gravel. His breath fogged in the air between you, curling and disappearing into the cold. You’d barely gotten out a confused, “Good at what?” before he closed the space between you.

He kissed you like he was starving for it. Like he’d been holding himself back for too long and something inside him had finally snapped. His mouth was rough and searching, his hands hesitant at first, then surer- one curling around the nape of your neck, the other splaying against your lower back, pulling you closer until there was no air left between you. He smelled like leather and cedar and that stubborn, earthy scent that was just Joel.

When he finally pulled back, his hand came up to cradle your cheek, calloused thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His touch was clumsy, almost too careful, like he was afraid he might break you.

“Saw the way Tommy was lookin’ at you,” His voice was hoarse, and he let out a slow, shaky breath, almost a laugh. “Knew if I didn’t do somethin’, someone else would. And I couldn’t stand the thought of losin’ you before I ever really had you.”

You didn’t need him to say the rest. You’d felt it too- all those glances, all that tension wound so tight between you it could snap at any second.

So you kissed him again, and that was the end of it. You were his.

Everyone knew it, including Tommy. He backed off after that. Kept his distance. You caught him looking, once or twice- not in the way he had before, not with a teasing smile or a lingering touch, but with something quieter, something sadder. Maybe he’d been a little surprised that Joel had finally made a move. Maybe, if he was honest, a little jealous too. But at the end of the day, Tommy had always been loyal to the people he loved.

And so he smiled that crooked, awkward smile when Joel pulled you close in public, and clapped him on the back like he was proud. The flirting stopped, replaced by an awkward politeness that never quite seemed natural.

It had been easier that way. Cleaner.

But now Joel was gone. And everything clean and easy had died with him

____

It was late- too late for visitors, but Tommy didn’t seem to care. You were sitting by the window, staring out at the darkened world, feeling the weight of the night more than ever. The loss of Joel still stung, a raw ache you couldn’t shake, and every sound seemed to echo louder than it should.

A knock on the door startled you, sharp and insistent, but when you opened it, there was Tommy, standing there with his shoulders hunched, his gaze a little too guarded. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there in the doorway, like he wasn’t sure why he’d come, or maybe too afraid to say the reason aloud.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice quiet, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer. The words felt strange between you- almost like a question you both already knew the answer to, but neither of you could admit.

Tommy’s eyes flickered to the ground, then back up to meet yours. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, like the words weren’t quite ready to leave his lips. His hands were shoved deep into his jacket pockets, and his stance was defensive, like he was bracing for something.

"I... I don’t know what I’m doin’ here," he admitted finally, his voice low and rough, the words feeling more like a confession than an explanation. "I just- "

You could see it, the uncertainty in his eyes, the same confusion you felt creeping up on you all the time. What were you supposed to do after everything had been torn apart? What were you supposed to feel when the man who was supposed to keep everything together was gone?

"You don’t have to explain," you said, stepping aside to let him in. "Just- come in, Tommy."

He hesitated, looking over his shoulder, like he was trying to convince himself this was the right thing to do. Then, with a grunt, he stepped inside. He didn’t seem to belong in the small, quiet space, his presence too big for the room, too loud in its own way.

“I like your outfit,” Tommy tried, a weak smile on his face

You looked down at your pajama ensemble, which consisted of a baggy t-shirt and athletic shorts, and looked back up at him, an eyebrow raised

"I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna see me," Tommy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Figured you needed space, y’know?"

You didn’t answer immediately. The last few days had been a blur of grief, silence, and confusion. You’d expected space from everyone, even from him, but there was something about Tommy that felt different. He wasn’t just Joel’s brother- he was one of the few people who understood what it meant to lose him.

Tommy’s gaze flickered down to the floor again, and when he looked back up, there was something different about him- an edge of need, of something barely held back. The space between you was still there, but it felt like it was closing, pulling you both closer even though every instinct screamed to stay apart.

"I didn’t think I’d want to see anyone," you crossed your arms, voice barely above a whisper. "But here we are."

Tommy took a slow step closer, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. It was a dangerous proximity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to step back. His presence, though so different from Joel’s, felt like the closest thing to comfort you’d had in days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t back away.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Tommy muttered, almost to himself, but it wasn’t regret- at least not the kind that would stop him from moving forward. There was something darker behind the words, something that tugged at you both. "But hell, it feels like this is all we’ve got now."

Tommy let out a low, shaky breath. The air between you two was thick with everything unsaid, and he shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable, like he didn’t know where to put himself in this new, empty world. He glanced at the chair next to you but didn’t sit.

“You’re still… still here. After everything,” Tommy said, voice cracking, tears forming in his eyes. "Don’t know why that matters, but... it does."

There was a strange, fragile honesty in his voice, and for a moment, the grief in his eyes matched your own. But there was something else there too, something that neither of you could name.

"I’m not going anywhere," you said, the words soft but firm, as if to convince both of you. “Not yet.”

That was all it took. Tommy staggered two steps towards you, then fell to his knees with a strangled cry, burying his face into the fabric of the t-shirt at your stomach, his hands resting on the backs of your legs, clutching at you like you were the only thing left in the world.

Your hands instinctively moved to his head, your fingers threading through his thick hair. It felt like Joel’s.

It felt like Joel’s.

You gasped, pulling your hands back like you’d been burned, guilt crashing over you like a wave.

Tommy felt you start to pull away- his grip on your legs tightened in a silent plea, grounding himself there, refusing to let you go. He mumbled something against you, too broken to lift his head.

“What did you say, Tomm-”

Before you could finish, he shifted- slid his hands up from the backs of your legs to your hips, desperate, almost clumsy with it. The movement made you stumble a half step back, heart thundering in your chest.

“Help me,” the words barely escaped his throat.

"Help you?" you breathed. "Wh-"

"Help me forget," he choked out. "Help me feel better, help me-" He broke off, his voice catching, as if he couldn't even put words to the ache tearing him apart.

Still, he couldn’t look away.

Still, you couldn’t either.

You stood frozen for a second, heart hammering against your ribs so loud you were sure he could hear it.

Tommy still knelt there, broken, at your feet, clutching onto you like you were the only thing left holding him together.

"Joel woulda never… I’m sorry," Tommy began, his voice thick with guilt, the words snagging in his throat, a single tear streaming down his face. His eyes dropped to the floor, shame flickering over his features. "Never wanted this. I can’t… I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t” he sputtered out.

The weight of it crushed your chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Maybe that's why I haven’t sent you away," you whispered, the confession burning your tongue. Tommy froze at your words. It felt like betrayal- to Joel, to yourself- but the hollow ache inside you roared louder than your guilt. "Maybe I need this. Maybe... I need something I’m not supposed to have."

Tommy’s eyes darkened, his hands still fisting the sides of your shorts like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Without thinking, you sank down, knees pressing into the worn wooden floor. You were level with him now, close enough to see every crack in the mask he was trying so hard to wear. Tommy sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, like it shattered the last bit of restraint he had left.

You hesitated- a heartbeat, two, before reaching out and tentatively brushing your fingers against his cheek. His stubble was rough under your touch, grounding you in this awful, beautiful mess.

His forehead dropped against yours with a shaky exhale, his body trembling from the force of everything he was trying to hold back.

"Fucking god, Tommy,” you shuddered, “We can’t," you whispered against him, your breath mingling with his. Spearmint.

"I know," Tommy muttered, “I fuckin' know,” but the words didn’t stop him. His hand locking around the back of your neck to hold you in place, he surged forward without giving either of you another moment to think.

His mouth crashed against yours- rough, needy, almost clumsy- but you answered him without hesitation, your hands grasping at his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

There was nothing careful about it. No permission asked. No forgiveness given. Just grief, aching and the feeling of being alive between your mouths, pulling you undone. Tongue and teeth and Tommy’s mustache scratching your face, the smell of leather, soap, and sweat, his smell, surrounding you.

Without warning, Tommy pushed off of you, and the sudden space between you two felt unbearable.

Tommy’s breath was ragged, his forehead still pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to will himself back under control.

"I’m sorry," he rasped, though he didn’t let you go. His hands still clutched your waist like he thought you might vanish if he loosened his grip.

You shook your head, your fingers untangling from the fabric of his jacket and sliding up his biceps to rest on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaved, your lips burning from the kiss, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it. Not when it made you feel something again.

"Don't be," you whispered, your hands moving to cup his face. "Please... don’t be."

He let out a whimper, becoming putty in your hands. His eyes opened and found yours, glassy and dark, and for a long moment neither of you moved, neither of you breathed.

Your thumb brushed gently over Tommy’s lips, feeling them tremble. His breathing stuttered, but he didn’t pull away- didn’t even flinch- just waited, he was putting everything in your hands now.

Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your nose lightly against his. His breath hitched again, but he stayed still, letting you set the pace.

You kissed him.

Soft, sure, and nothing like the desperate clash from before. This kiss was a promise. A surrender.

Tommy made a broken sound deep in his chest- half relief, half wrecked need- and his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer without hesitation.

You shifted without breaking the kiss, moving to straddle his lap. Tommy shifted underneath you, clumsy and desperate, dropping to fully sit on the floor and tugging you into his lap like he couldn't stand another second without you closer, his hands trembling as they guided you into place.

Tommy groaned low into your mouth when you settled over him, the heat of your core pressed flush to his achingly hard cock restrained by his jeans. His fingers dug into your hips through your clothes, anchoring himself to the moment, to you. You ground down on him, drawing a sinful sound from his throat, the denim providing the perfect amount of friction for you both.

There was no more slowing down. Tommy’s hands were everywhere now, sliding under the waistband of your shorts, gripping your hips as he now manually moved you back and forth over where he needed you most. Every motion was urgent, desperate- like he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to. His lips left yours only to trail down your throat, his breath coming out in sharp gasps as you tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but you couldn’t. Not with him this close. Not with him kissing you like he needed you to breathe.

Tommy’s hands stilled, one on the back of your head, one on your hip, and before you could protest at the lack of motion, he flipped you over. Swift, calculated, and with ease. You gasped, your back hitting the cool floor with a soft thud, the sudden shift in control making your heart race.

He hovered over you, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. The space between you two felt heavier now. His lips hovered above yours, torn between control and chaos, like he was waiting for you to stop him, to say something, anything to make sense of what was happening.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your waist, your hips, his touch desperate, as if he were mapping you out. You could feel the intensity of his touch, the way his fingers trembled, almost like he was afraid that if he let go of you, the world might collapse entirely.

"Tommy," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, a plea that felt more like a question.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips moving to your neck as his hand slid under your shirt. His touch was hot, but still left a trail of goosebumps on your skin where his fingers had brushed.

His mouth found yours again, this time urgent, his kiss deepening with a rawness that sent a shiver through your entire body. You could feel the weight of everything between you two- the grief, the loss, the hunger for something real- and it only made the kiss more desperate. His hands, once tentative, were now firm, pulling you closer, pushing you further into him like he couldn’t get enough.

The hand under your shirt moved slowly, deliberately, his fingers grazing the soft skin of your breasts as it slid even higher. His hand made its way up to the collar of your shirt, where he twisted the fabric around his fingers. He pulled back from your kiss to straddle your waist, his strong thighs framing you, anchoring him, before his other hand moved to grip the shirt collar from the outside.

Without warning, he tugged harshly, his knuckles hitting against your skin as the shirt gave way with a rip. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the room, sending a jolt of adrenaline straight to your chest. The action was raw, animalistic, the urgency in his movements undeniable as he tore the shirt open, right down the front, exposing the skin beneath.

"God, you're-" Tommy groaned, his voice breaking, words barely slipping out of his throat, his fists tightening around the fragments of shirt in his hands. "I don’t... fuck..." He couldn’t finish the thought, but you could hear it all- the desperation, the guilt, the raw, aching need to feel you, even if it was just for a moment.

He didn’t give himself the time to find the words. His mouth left a hot, wet trail down your torso- over the soft curve of your belly, the band of your athletic shorts. He paused there, nuzzling against the fabric, his breath burning against your skin. He hooked his fingers over the waistband and wiggled your shorts off of your hips, tossing them aside without ceremony, letting out a borderline pained groan when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

"Let me..." he rasped, almost begging, kneeling on the floor between your spread legs, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs. "Let me take care of you. Please."

You nodded once, almost imperceptible, but Tommy caught it.

His eyes locked on your cunt, looking at it like it was the answer to all of his prayers. His gaze didn’t falter once as he slowly lowered himself to lay on his stomach on the wooden floor, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He looked like he was starving.

He pressed a kiss to your clit and finally looked back up at you. His eyes glossed over, hypnotized.

"Tell me to stop," he rasped, voice nearly unrecognizable, thick with emotion, "And I will. Swear to fuckin’ god, I will."

You didn’t tell him to stop.

"Tommy... please,” tears forming in your eyes “Please just-”

He cut you off by finally giving you what you wanted.

The first sweep of his tongue was tentative, almost cautious- as if he was savoring you, memorizing the taste of you. But when you cried out, your fingers yanking at his hair, something in him snapped.

He groaned against you, digging his fingers into your thighs, and licked into you with a hunger that bordered on feral.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t slow, or teasing, or careful.

It was messy and desperate- needy, frantic. Tommy buried his face between your legs like he was starving for it, tongue moving in sloppy, devastating circles over your clit, moaning against you like he couldn’t get enough.

"Tommy," you gasped, your back arching off the floor, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Oh my god, Tommy-"

He answered you with a low growl, gripping your thighs tighter, dragging you closer, pressing you more firmly against his mouth. His nose bumped your clit with every desperate movement of his tongue, the friction sending you spiraling, unraveling.

Your vision blurred, your breath stuttered, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Tommy's hand moved. He grabbed your thigh roughly, holding you wide open, and slid two thick fingers into you without warning.

You cried out- half sob, half gasp- and he just groaned against your clit, like he needed your sounds, like they drove him crazier.

"That’s it, baby," he mumbled against your cunt, voice low and ragged. "Give it to me. Let me hear you."

His fingers pumped into you hard, relentless, curling up inside you with devastating precision. Every stroke punched a broken little noise out of you, your body jerking helplessly under him.

Tommy was now propped up on one elbow, with his face and his free hand buried between your legs. Not a comfortable position for him at all, but that wasn’t his focus anymore. He wanted to see you.

"You’re mine," Tommy growled, rough and possessive, not caring whether the words were true or not. "Always were. Always fuckin’ will be."

The rhythm of his fingers and his tongue was overwhelming- dirty and desperate- grinding you down until there was nothing left but him.

You tried to hold on, tried to make it last, but he worked you over mercilessly, coaxing every gasp and whimper out of you until you were right on the edge, shaking and breathless.

"Come on, sweet girl," he murmured, mouth slick and messy against you. "Wanna feel you fall apart on my fuckin' hand."

He knew you were close. The way you clenched around his fingers, the way your breath hitched and broke- he felt it, heard it- and without another word, he buried his mouth against you again, hell-bent on tearing that finish out of you.

With a final rough curl of his fingers- hitting that spot inside you so perfectly it hurt- you shattered.

The orgasm ripped through you hard and fast, your vision going white, your body clamping down around him, your hands fisting helplessly in his hair as you cried out his name like a prayer. Tommy groaned into you, slow and deep, drinking down every last shudder you gave him before finally- finally- dragging his mouth away.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and glinting with a filthy sort of satisfaction. Cocky. Proud. Like he’d just won something. He pressed a few lingering kisses to your trembling inner thigh, then pushed himself up, moving to hover over you.

“Fuckin’ knew you'd taste good," he smirked down at you, hair mussed, mouth shiny. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in. “Been wantin’ to do that for-”

He cut himself off so fast you barely caught it. For how long? Since Joel died? Before? The words hung between you, heavy and unspoken.

You didn’t let him finish. Didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to think.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down into a messy, desperate kiss. He sighed against your mouth, kissing you back just as rough, his body pressing hot and solid against yours, grateful that you interrupted his train of thought. You could feel him- hard and thick in his jeans, grinding against your hip like he couldn’t help himself.

One hand planted on the floor, his other moved down to fumble with his belt, cursing low under his breath as the buckle clinked. He was rushing- hands clumsy, frantic- until he suddenly stilled.

"No," he muttered against your skin, voice rough and wrecked. He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was wrestling with himself. "Not like this,” he said, mostly to himself.

Before you could ask, he hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you clean off the floor. You let out a soft, startled noise, arms wrapping around his shoulders instinctively.

Tommy carried you across the room, his hands gripping you tight like he was scared you’d run away if he let go. He laid you down on the bed- gentler now- and took a step back, hands on his hips, staring down at you like you were something holy.

“This,” he smiled, somewhat weak but still genuine, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, “this ain’t gonna be rushed, sweetheart. Ain't gonna be sloppy.”

He popped the button on his jeans, dragging them down his hips with slow, deliberate hands- his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m gonna take my time with you."

Your eyes raked over his now naked form, drinking him in like he was something holy and forbidden all at once, because he was.

Tommy was solid- broad shoulders, thick arms, a chest dusted with dark hair that tapered down his stomach, leading your gaze lower, making your mouth go dry. He wasn’t perfect- there were scars across his ribs and hips, little stories written into his skin- but god, he was beautiful. Strong, sturdy, built like he could ruin you and hold you together at the same time. There was a kind of roughness to him, a ruggedness- the soft curve of his belly, the way his thighs were thick and powerful, the way his hands were big and rough, but they touched you like you were something delicate.

And his eyes- Fuck, his eyes.

Dark, wild, hungry- like he was barely keeping himself from devouring you whole.

You’d never been looked at like that before.

You'd never been looked at like that before.

Joel had loved you- you knew he had. You’d loved him back just as fiercely. But there had always been something in the way. Some job that needed finishing. Some danger around the corner. Ellie needing him more than you did. There was always a part of him you could never quite reach, no matter how close you got.

You felt it creeping in now, the old ache, the old loneliness-

You forced it away, pushed it down deep where it belonged. Not now. Not with Tommy looking at you like you were the only thing he'd ever wanted. Like you were the last good thing in a broken world. Like he’d starve without you.

Tommy was all man, all heat, and all yours.

You lay there, breathless, skin flushed and buzzing under his gaze, watching him. Watching the way his chest heaved, the way his hands fisted at his sides like he was holding himself back by a thread.

You didn’t want him to hold back.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your legs falling open in silent invitation.

Tommy swore under his breath, low and rough, and crawled over you, his big hands sliding up your thighs, spreading you wider, fitting himself between them like he belonged there. He leaned down, catching your mouth in a bruising kiss- messy, teeth clashing, tongues tangling- and you moaned into it, arching your body up against his. You could feel how badly he wanted you, how close he was to snapping.

"Christ, look at you," he muttered against your mouth, his hand snaking down between your bodies, stroking himself once, twice. "So fuckin’ beautiful like this. So ready for me."

You whined, desperate, bucking your hips up. "Tommy, please."

That did it.

With a ragged growl, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing hot and insistent against your slick entrance. He nudged in just an inch, enough to make you gasp, and froze.

"Sweetheart," he rasped, voice thick with something like pain, like worship, "you sure?"

You nodded frantically, fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer.

That was all he needed.

With one slow, devastating thrust, Tommy pushed into you, stretching you open, filling you until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. You both gasped- his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. "You feel- Jesus fucking Christ, you feel like heaven."

He gave you a moment, letting you adjust, but you were already clenching around him, greedy, needy, your body desperate for more.

“Move," you whispered against his jaw, biting down just enough to make him groan.

And then he did- dragging almost all the way out, slow and torturous, before slamming back into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.

He set a slow rhythm, each thrust hard and deep, like he was trying to fuck the memories out of both of you.

You took everything he gave you- the desperation, the anger, the hunger- and gave it right back, meeting him thrust for thrust, nails clawing down his back, mouths colliding in fevered kisses between ragged breaths.

You didn't know when the rhythm had turned frantic- when Tommy had stopped holding back, when you'd started begging. All you knew was the sound of skin slapping against skin, the desperate little noises breaking from your throat, the thick stretch of him inside you.

"That's it, sweetheart," Tommy rasped against your ear, his voice wrecked, his hips grinding deeper, harder. "I want you to cum with me. C'mon-"

His hand found your clit, fingers rough and unpracticed but perfect, circling you with the same wild urgency he fucked you with. It tipped you right over the edge.

You sobbed his name, clinging to him like a lifeline, body seizing up so tight it sent fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. You broke apart around him, your whole world narrowing to the relentless drag of his hips and the unbearable sweetness of his touch. Tommy cursed low in his throat, feeling you clamp down on him, and he didn’t stand a chance.

He spilled inside you with a hoarse, shuddering groan, burying his face against your neck as he followed you into oblivion. His whole body locked up, muscles trembling with the force of it, his hand still working you through the last waves of pleasure.

For a long moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing, the way you both clung to each other like you'd drown if you let go.

Tommy didn’t move at first. He just stayed there, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, like he was trying to catch his breath- or maybe just trying to hold onto the moment a little longer.

His arms slid under you, gathering you up without even thinking, and he rolled onto his back, taking you with him, keeping you perched on his chest. Still joined, still trembling. Still his.

You melted into him, your body boneless and spent, your cheek pressed to the sweaty curve of his shoulder. You could hear his heart thundering under your ear, feel it slow bit by bit as the silence wrapped around you. He ran a hand down your spine, shaky and gentle, tracing your skin like he never wanted to forget the feel of you.

"You okay?" he murmured after a while, his voice rough, almost shy. Like he hadn't just wrecked you. Like he hadn't just stitched himself into you in ways you weren't sure you could ever undo.

You nodded against him. Your fingers found his chest hair and you played with it.

He chuckled low under his breath- a sound that rumbled deep in his chest- and tightened his arms around you.

"Good," he said, and kissed your hairline, your temple, anywhere he could reach. "Good, sweetheart. Ain't lettin' you go now."

You hummed, allowing yourself to close your eyes and let yourself drift asleep against Tommy’s strong chest.

_____________

Eventually, the cold started to creep in.

Your bare skin prickled against his, the sweat drying sticky between you, and awoke with a shiver.

Tommy felt it. Of course he did. He was wide awake while you were sleeping, not allowing himself to doze off for fear you’d need him for something, monitoring every time you shifted or sighed in your sleep.

He muttered something under his breath- too low and Southern-slurred for you to catch- and shifted carefully, sliding out from under you with a soft, broken sound. You whimpered at the loss, at the overwhelming emptiness he left behind. His hands soothed down your sides, slow and gentle, murmuring, "I got you, baby. I'm right here."

He walked a few steps toward the edge of the bed, reaching down to grab the blanket that had gotten kicked off due to your previous activities. He shook it out, his muscles rippling down his back as he did.

You caught glimpses of him in the low light: mussed hair, flushed chest, long lines of scratch marks blooming red down his back like some sort of claim. Your mark. You’d done that to him.

He gently spread the blanket over you on the bed, then sank down beside you again.

You thought maybe he’d pull away. Maybe he’d retreat into silence, into shame.

But he didn’t.

He laid back against the pillows and tugged you onto his chest again, wrapping you up in his arms. You could still feel the wild thudding of his heart, still hear the rasp of his breathing as he combed a hand through your tangled hair.

Neither of you said anything for a long time.

You just laid there, bruised and aching and still a little wet between your legs, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened settle into your bones.

Tommy’s thumb traced lazy, meaningless circles over your back. Eventually, you felt him dip his head, his mouth brushing the top of your ear.

"I been wantin’ you for a long time," he whispered, like it was a secret, like he was confessing something he couldn’t take back.

You closed your eyes tight against the flood of emotion, your hand fisting weakly in the blanket.

You wanted to say it back. You wanted to tell him that maybe, without even knowing it, you’d been wanting him too. But the words stuck in your throat.

He noticed.

Tommy’s voice was a whisper as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "I’m sorry," he murmured, though you could hear the regret mixed with something else- something deeper. "I never wanted it to be like this."

You didn’t answer. Instead, you just held onto him, the warmth of his body against yours the only thing that felt real in that moment.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

#tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #Tommy miller #Tommy Miller x reader #Joel miller #Tommy Miller smut #the last of us fanfic #Joel Miller x reader

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