I finally got my shit together and gathered my masterlist link and playlist links so I could share them with y’all! I’ll have links to my masterlist if writings, individual character playlists and the main playlist for Pedro inspired music or songs that fit characters without an individual playlist. Some playlists are longer than others but new songs get added regularly - I’m also adding a couple playlist that aren’t mine but should be enjoyed!
a/n: thinking about him has got me in a dreamy state of mind. which is probably why this is so filthy. it is also late and i genuinely can’t stop myself from writing this. or actually typing it insanely right into the app cause drafting this is a no go. i wanted to finish it and drop it in the morning, but something told me to just shove it into the open tonight.
summary: a man of such might, such strength, made your heart sing a tune only he could recognize. who were you to deny the power he held over your stuttering heart? OR giving tommy head until he passes out.
word count: 0.9k+
pairing: tommy miller x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, lewdly giving this man head, spit play, ball worship, cum eating, cumplay, dirty talk, sorta sub tommy vibes, fluff.
He can feel it in the grip he had on the chair, blunt nails digging into torn leather, a gasping moan bubbling past his tightly stricken throat. Tommy couldn’t say he was a man of few words—they flowed rather easily for a man of his character—but tonight he couldn’t find them. Thoughts leaving his mind the longer he sat there, on display for the keeper of his heart.
“Gonna make me wait?” he gasped, eyes rolling back hard enough to make his head hurt.
Your response is deafening. The twist of your palm, tongue flicking at the head of his leaking cock, was all he got. All he deserved after the night he had.
Long hours kept him from you, Jackson taking precedence in your relationship. But who were you to complain? You couldn't.
He kept this place afloat—fighting tooth and nail to maintain balance in the council, dragging himself through hell to watch this community bloom. Time spent away made your heart grow fonder, sightings of him putting blood and sweat into something he cherished had need clamping a fist around your throat.
“I’d like to see you beg.” Hot breath washed over his tingling skin, the jump in his hips involuntary. “But we both know you’re not there yet.”
Tommy knew he was messy. Years of needing towels to clean himself up after quick handjobs proved that he dripped like a fucking faucet. He smeared down your forearm, staining the edge of your shirt where you rolled the sleeves up. It still didn’t stop you from drooling spit down his twitching cock, smearing it with your palm—a smile stretched across your swollen lips.
“Just let me-” A soft lick rendered his body pliant—a melted man in the chair large enough for two. “Fuck darlin’”
You smiled. “Good?”
The stifled groan had your stomach fluttering, spit gathering along your tongue at the sight. Pumping your wrist you dipped low enough to feel his coarse hair brush your nose—his balls heavy and full and coated in the familiar taste of him. It would be so fucking easy to drag him over the edge—the sight of his mouth open and eyes rolled pushed to the forefront of your hazy mind.
Any other night you’d splay him beneath you, straddling his stomach as he gripped you close. Mouth running in an attempt to convince you to sit on his face. It’ll be the ride of your life. I need ya baby. You’re too fuckin’ sweet to keep that pussy away from me.
Tonight called for something different. He collapsed in the chair, exhaustion bleeding into the air and stress weighing on dropped shoulders. He remained strong in spite of the horrors beyond a heavily armored gate. The pinnacle of capability.
Your lips closed around the base of his cock, sucking gentle enough to feel his thigh twitch under your cheek. He dragged in breath—hand finding purchase on the back of your head, fingers digging into whatever part of you he could reach. Salt and the heady musk of him enveloped your senses. Blinding you to his incoherent mumbles.
“Fuckin’ killin’ me-”
Smiling, you slid lower curling your tongue around his ball. His knee jerked, a ragged gasp ripping through the air—hand tugging sharply at the back of your neck. You forced yourself forward with a laugh, sucking it into your mouth with a moan, spit drooling past your lips and gathering in down your chin. Something about tending to every part of him—watching him shut away the snarling wolf for someone docile—fed a piece of your aching soul.
“G-Gonna—shit—I’m gonna cum baby.”
“That’s okay,” you cooed, licking a line up to the leaking tip you sucked with a moan.
Releasing him with a soft pop you fixed your attention on the other side, rolling your tongue over the sticky skin—slick pooling between your thighs. His chest heaved and back arched, the mess pouring over your rapidly moving hand now finding it’s way down your wrist.
You felt them draw up in your mouth, saliva shiny and wet on your chin, before he came with a strained cry. His spend spurting along your face, gathering along your cheek, dribbling into the corner of your full mouth. Tommy mumbled familiar cuss words, bleary eyes finding yours between his thighs—back arched and knees screaming in pain. But it was all worth the fucking effort to have him look at you like that.
As if you stole the moon for his fluttering heart.
“‘S too much baby.”
You could get him to come again. One twist of your wrist and suck of your mouth and he’d push past the overstimulation to add even more to your face. He’d suffer the pain with bared teeth and sore stomach muscles. As long as you kept your mouth right where he knew you wanted it.
Licking up what you could, you swiped along your cheek, stuffing your sticky fingers into an open and waiting mouth. He groaned at the taste, hand tight around your wrist to keep you set in place—eyes burning a hole along your cheek. He’d lick it up with a pleased sigh, clean what he caused without question. And you just might let him if you weren’t gasping for your own air.
He stole it from your lungs, swallowing whatever you’d give him—thighs spread and cock soft against his stomach. What an irresistible sight. What a delectable meal.
“C’mere,” he murmured, tugging at your arm.
“To do what?”
He grinned, teeth flashing in the darkened space. “Whatever I want.”
Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader
Word Count: 2312
Warnings: feeling(s), language, blood, slight gore, use of weapons
Author’s Note: This fic has been living in my google docs since after The Last of Us came out, I am so happy to be able to share it with all of you. If it’s not something you like, I understand and feel free to let me know your opinions. I want to thank @moonlight-prose, @mostly-megan and @sunflowersteves for being the best hype folks I could ask for.
Joel knows the spot the two of you have chosen to rest is too exposed with the bare minimum of coverage from nearby trees and bushes. But you look at him with such exhaustion that he begrudgingly agrees to stay, if only until dawn. While you take the time to start a small fire and start the cooking of the portions of fresh meat the two of you managed to gather on your hunt, he sweeps the area to make sure no remnants of the infected linger. Satisfied with finding nothing, Joel makes his way back to the now low burning campfire and the smell of cooking meat.
“Ya find anything?” You look at him as he sits his pack next to yours, offering him the canteen of water as he takes a seat on the fallen log close to you.
He shakes his head as he takes a deep drink, “No, which could be a good thing considerin’ how open we are out here.”
“I know it’s not perfect. M’also well aware that the only reason stopped because of me, so thank you,” you lean over under the guise of taking the canteen but instead press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling his lips quirk slightly.
“Well, it’s not like we couldn’t both use a break. Feels like we’ve been walking for days,” he takes another drink before passing the he water back to you, “‘sides, it’s not that awful of a spot. Stars look nice.”
You nod in agreement, your head tipping back to take in the stars as Joel takes over the cooking. The conversation fades and you’re covered in the silence of the night around you, one you’ve become accustomed to in the years of travel with the man at your side. At the thought of him, you right your head and glance in his direction. The flames of the fire lick at the angles of his face, half hidden in shadows while the other glows from what light the fire provides. You take him in slowly - the beard lining his jaw, the soft pout of his lips, the curve of his nose and settle on his eyes as they meet yours.
“What’s got you quiet? That’s usually my job,” he tears off a bit of the meat, looking at you with a quirked brow as he catches you in your admiration.
“Huh? S’nothing, I was just appreciating the view,” you took the offered meal, moving closer to him and the warmth of the fire.
“The view bein’ our bleak surroundings or present company?” There is a smile to the question as he asks, his gaze lingering on yours before he turns back to own meal.
You don’t hide the smile as you shake your head and continue eating, “Both I guess. Can’t say I’m really upset at either.”
You swear you hear him laugh softly as he continues to eat, the lull in conversation returns as you both enjoy the meal of small game and dried fruit. As the night wears on, you and Joel find yourself stretching out under the full moon. You knew, just as Joel said, that the spot wasn’t safe enough to stay but the exhaustion weighing on your bones was becoming impossible to ignore and he must have sensed it.
“Sleep, darlin’, I’ll give you a few hours then we‘ll switch.” Before you can respond, he lays his well-worn jacket over you. His words soft in the night air as he continues, “it’ll be morning soon and we’ll need to move but just sleep for now.”
“You sure?” Your eyes are partially closed at your point of asking, making Joel chuckle as sits up fully and leans against the log.
“Yeah, m’sure,” he leans his gun across his knees, his back braced against the log as he glances down at you for a response. Finding you asleep, he sighs and brushes a few strands of hair from your face.
Time seems to slow as Joel sits in silence, nothing but the low crackling of the fire and your quiet snores to feel the void of night. Just as you had admired him by the fire, he took the time to take you in as he always did in quiet moments - though, even after five years of travel, he still did it in a way that never drew your attention.
He always knew you had shared his feelings, but you hadn’t been vocal about them until after the third year of his companionship, after a close call with clickers. The altercation had led to a fight between the two of you, your anger more fierce and direct than he was used to when it came to you. It had led to the tumbling of admittance to the feelings for him you had held captive. Joel hadn’t said anything, just tossed his gun aside and took you in his arms. The kiss he gave you had held every bit of what he couldn’t say and all that came next clicked into place with what had been brewing for years between the two of you. The years that came after were different but the same. He kept you close and the two of you fought side by side as always. When Ellie was added to your small group, the circle seemed complete even though he never admitted it out loud.
Lost in his thoughts, Joel misses the snap of the distance limb under booted foot. He‘ll blame himself for it later when the danger is in front of you but for now, lost in his memories, he’s content in his obliviousness as to what’s to come.
Turning his head to the sky, he sighs then glances at his once busted but now working watch. Somewhere between memories from the past and the promises of the present, he had lost track of time. When he realizes just how much time has passed, he curses softly and moves to wake you up knowing you’ll be mad he robbed himself of his own rest if he lets you sleep longer.
Nudging you awake, he leans to brush his lips along your forehead to wake you slowly. “C’mon, baby, it's your turn to take watch.”
“M’up. I’m up.” Your words mumble together as you stretch and move to sit up, groaning lowly.
“You doin’ okay? Sounds like you could use another week of that,” he hesitates before moving into the same position you were previously in, sighing softly at the relief the hard ground gives his back. “I was going to give you another hour but -“
“But you knew I’d be mad.” As you look down at him, the small smile on his face gives you an answer. “Mm, you’re getting pretty smart in your old age, Miller.”
Joel huffs out a laugh and shrugs, “Never hear you complain about my age, darlin’. If I remember correctly I think you like it just fine, The experience and all that comes with it seems to keep you very satisfied.”
With that, you shove his side and laugh, draping his jacket over him. “Just go to sleep. I’d hate to have you grumpier than usual.”
He doesn’t argue, shifting slightly to get comfortable before he glances up at you, “you wake me if there’s trouble, understand?”
“Promise I will,” leaning down, you press a soft kiss to his lips and smile, “even though I can handle it myself.”
He returns your smile as you right yourself, pulling your knees to your chest before you toss a few remaining sticks on to the fire. The last thing Joel sees as sleep overtakes him is your face by the firelight, the warm hue of your eyes shining as you watch the flames dance.
Muffled, angry conversation is the first thing that slowly filters into Joel’s consciousness as he wakes. He isn’t sure what wakes him, but he can feel more than one presence at the fire as his eyes remain close. He wishes his gun was closer, that he’d tucked it to his side like usual before he slept.
“Just give us the supplies and we’ll go, you and the old man don’t have to get hurt.” The voice closest to Joel speaks, “I’d really hate to splatter that pretty face of yours across the trees.”
“You can fucking try, asshole. I’ll drop you before you have a chance to think.” He recognizes the ferocity of your voice and slowly moves to sit up, the press of cool metal against his temple has his eyes snapping open as he looks up to the three men surrounding the makeshift campsite.
“Mornin’, grandpa. Why don’t you convince this pretty piece of ass to share y’all’s supplies so we don’t have to hurt ya? My buddy there has a twitchy finger and the last thing we want to do is kill anybody.” The stranger’s voice is laced with sarcasm and the glint Joel catches in his eyes is more evil than man, he knows the look well.
“He’s not doing shit! I told you no, now you leave on your own or I blow your buddy’s head off.” You step closer to Joel, your own gun pressed into your shoulder as you point it at the man standing over your partner. “I could get him and you before you get the first shot off.”
“Just let them have what we have left, girl. Don’t be stupid, you don’t have to play the hero.” The sound of Joel’s voice has your gaze dropping to where he half lays, half sits on ground.
“Better listen to him, sweetheart. Don’t want you playing the stupid hero.” The same man speaks again, cocking his gun as he moves closer, “give us the stuff.”
What happens next Joel will later recount as a blur, gunfighting he will say resembles that of the Texan westerns he grew up on. The man standing over him is the first one down, half his face missing as he topples to the ground next to him as you kick his shotgun over. His friend farther out of the group falls next, Joel’s shot landing dead center of his chest as the final two shots land.
Joel watches as the man whose gun had been pointed at you falls to the ground, his face marred by your shot. He lets out a breath of relief as he moves to stand, looking the men over for any sign of infection before he turns at the soft call of his name.
“J-Joel,” your voice sounds small as you call to him, “I think he got a shot in.”
Crimson. Dark, furious crimson is all that fills his vision as he looks to your hands pressed against the upper right side of your body.
“No. NO!” Joel’s screams echo off the trees as he watches you crumple to the ground in front of him, “you’re okay, you’re okay.” He pleads as he moves to kneel next to you, his hands pressing over the wound.
“I g-got him, didn’t even see it coming.” Your words are stuttered as you blink back tears, “guess I didn’t see him coming either.”
He looks you over, his eyes welling with tears as he takes in the spreading stain. “You still did good, baby.”
“Learned from the best,” a shift in your combined hands has you crying out in pain.
“Easy, easy I know it hurts but I need to look, okay?” He looks at you for approval before moving your hands to check the wound, his brow knitting as more blood pours for the wound. “Went straight through.”
Your words are slurred as you speak again, “s’not too bad, right?”
“No, ‘course not. You’ll be just fine, sweetheart. Not bad at all,” he knows isn’t the complete truth and he knows you’re at least a little more than half a day’s walk from the compound while losing more blood than he can begin to figure.
When he meets your eyes again, you chuckle and squeeze his hand gently. “You.. You are a shit liar, Miller.”
There, under the waning cover of night as the sky begins to streak with the orange of the impending sunrise, Joel holds what last good thing he knows will touch his life in quivering hands. Feeling the warmth of your body fade as the very essence of your life bleeds between the clasped fingers pressed to the wound inflicted by the raider’s gun. He makes a deal to whatever deity listening to spare your life, to keep you alive for him and spare him the pain of losing someone else.
“Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me, okay? Don’t leave me, please.” His words are rushed as tears begin to fall, his hand pressing against the wound. “I’m going to have to move you, okay? We need to get you back.”
“Hurts.. Hurts b-bad. Just let me.. let me rest.” The words are soft as you fade in and out of consciousness, blinking up at him slowly.
“You can rest when we get to the compound, right now we’re moving.” He curses to himself as slips his pack on and the gun over his shoulder, pressing his jacket over the bleeding wound before he lifts you and you cry out weakly, “just hold on for me, I’ve got you.”
You mumble a response and he spares one final glance around the camp before he starts his trek, the compound and medical help the only thing on his mind. Not the infected, not scavengers, just you.
Under a sky on fire with the tendrils of the new day, Joel Miller holds his world in his arms and races a clock he can’t slow as the blood flows from your body.
you know what's a love language that gets me everytime i see it between two people? gaze. even though one is looking at the other with heart eyes in front of everyone, it seems like such a private moment that we just happened to witness, but weren't meant to. most of the times, even the one they are looking at is not meant to see how they are being looked at with so much love and admiration. the loving gaze doesn't have a purpose. more than being a conversation with one's lover, it's a conversation with oneself one where you smile and admit to yourself: "i am gone for this person, aren't i?"
