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futureman · 11 months

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You take my self control

summary: your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, extremely graphic depictions of violence, dark themes, blood and injuries, dead clicker, angst, comfort, ptsd, reader struggles, undefined age gap, established relationship, language, smut, piv, rough sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, minor dom!joel, guided handjob, pet names

word count: 3.4k

a/n: whew, this one is a doozy. the original plan was to write something fluffy, but then i wrote this instead 🥲 based on moments from kill bill vol. 1 and sin city, and the title is from the song self control by laura branigan! please lmk if i missed anything in the warnings and i’ll add it asap. it’s a lot darker than my last fic, but i’ve always wanted to write this story, so i hope you enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

You can’t see. You can’t hear anything at all. Numbness permeates your limbs, and your thoughts are a mishmash of gnashing teeth and nails, sharp and jagged like claws, and so, so much red.

There’s something warm and sticky on your face and hands. It’s up your nose, trickling into your open mouth, and it tastes like salt and iron. Blood…it must be blood. You hope it’s your own but, in the dark recesses of your mind, you know it’s someone else’s. It tastes all wrong, like the fact that you’re tasting it all means you’re alive and you really shouldn’t be.

He’s yelling, or at least you think it’s him. Sound returns to your ears all at once and it’s fucking loud.

Joel, stop, it hurts.

Everything hurts so much now, and you feel it everywhere—scratches down your arms and legs, your heart slamming an angry beat against your temples.

Fuck, you’re probably bit. Joel sounds frantic and terrified, but you don’t know why. There are massive gaps in your memory and you can’t remember how you got here, knees heavy on the ground, your thighs bracketing the sides of a dead clicker.

A woman—you think it used to be a woman. It’s hard to tell after the carnage. The fragments of bone and wet chunks of flesh and fungus where her head should be tell a different story now. You desperately wish your sight hadn’t returned at all, but it’s too late and you can’t unsee it. You can’t unsee her.

The muscles in your arms and hands burn something vicious, and when they give out, something hard clangs to the ground. A metal pipe.

Joel calls out to you again, and he sounds closer this time.

“...go…have to go now…can’t…here…”

Strong hands tug on your arm and pull you to your feet, and suddenly you’re running. Joel is all but dragging you out of what looks like the living room of a modern, suburban home, and you do your best not to trip on tipped-over furniture.

You look back over your shoulder and the body is still lying there, lifeless. You’re not sure why you thought it would be chasing you, hungry mouth snapping at your throat; it’s dead. Because you killed it.

You’re exhausted and your legs are sore, but when you start to slow down, Joel’s hand tightens around yours and tugs harder.

“We have to go, baby, we can’t stay here.” Ah, that’s what he was saying before. “I know it hurts, but you gotta keep goin’. Just a little longer, you gotta keep it up for a little bit longer.” He should be out of breath by now, but he’s running on fear and adrenaline, and you let it fuel you, too.

When you make it outside, the sky is a clear, cloudless blue above you and the sun is brighter than you’ve ever seen it. It makes your skin itch, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the dirt and dried blood matting your hair and caked under your fingernails.

Instinctively, your hand rises to shield your eyes. It’s effective enough that you’re able to take in your surroundings as they fly by and, while they’re familiar, you still can’t remember what you were doing here in the first place.

“Joel, I’m…I-I’m—I can’t. I can’t run anymore, p-please—,” you whimper, chest heaving with exertion. House, driveway, lawn—they repeat over and over and over again. They’re starting to blur together, and your tunneling vision worsens until darkness consumes you. “...Joel…”

And then everything goes black.

You’re…surrounded. By something that feels soft and warm and solid against your aching skin, and it moves steadily against you, rising and falling. Your head tilts to the side and it’s Joel breathing into you, his head at home in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped loosely around you.

You nuzzle your nose into his graying hair, pressing a kiss there, and a sharp intake of breath follows as he blinks awake blearily.

“Hey, baby,” you murmur. He hums something deep and unintelligible in response, tilting his head back to mouth wetly at the base of your throat.

You let out a sigh of relief. If Joel’s in bed with you like this, it means you’re not infected. Hurt and in pain, yes, but you’re both alive and that’s all that matters. You saved his life out there and you’d do it all over again, even at the cost of your own.

Your memories are returning quickly now, like waves violently crashing to shore after a storm, and the images are gruesome. What you did to protect Joel was barbaric, but you acted on impulse, out of rage and desperation.

The clicker came out of nowhere. You were searching an abandoned house for supplies when it lunged out of a closet, tackling Joel to the ground. The metal pipe in his hand clattered to the ground at your feet and you picked it up as quickly as it fell.

Then, something inside you snapped and you reacted. It was dead after the second or third blow to the head, but you kept going anyway, angry at it for almost stealing Joel away and destabilized by the fear of losing him.

Blood sprayed from every artery you severed and after each new crack in its skull, and it showered down like rain, thick and warm against your skin. It made you feel powerful, like you were in control for the first time in your life. You enjoyed it.

Only when you realized the pipe was connecting with wet, dented pieces of floorboard instead of flesh did you finally stop.

You remember everything now.

“I’m not sorry,” you tell him, staring vacantly at the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom. He sighs, and you think he’s about to start lecturing you. You don’t want to hear it. You barely want to talk about it at all. “You could’ve died, Joel. If you think for one second I’d ever let that happen, you’re out of your mind.”

He squeezes you a little tighter, mindful of your injuries, but doesn’t respond. Silence blankets you for a moment, and then it breaks once he realizes you’re trembling and your eyes and cheeks are wet with tears.

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you can’t seem to stop, and the frustration in his eyes lessens with each soft hiccup that escapes your lips.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, thumbing away the tears as they fall. He leaves his hand there, gently cupping your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You can feel the fight leaving his body; it’s just not worth it anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. Sighing, he drops his head to rest on your collarbone. “There’s nothin’ to be sorry for. I shoulda been payin’ more attention, been more cautious. Then, you wouldn’t have had to…you wouldn’t be—” He’s fumbling his words. Joel’s never been good at conversations like these, but he’s trying. “...I’m tryna say it’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”

It’s not his fault, either. In the aftermath of everything, no one’s to blame, but it doesn’t help how much it still hurts. How broken you feel.

“Joel, I—,” the tears flow freely and you struggle to suppress a sob. “I’m a monster. You saw what I did…I just—I couldn’t stop. I know she wasn’t a person anymore, I know that, but…b-but I think I liked it. What does that say about me; what does that make me?” You’re spiraling now. He shifts up the bed to hold you properly and rocks you against his chest for a while, like he’s soothing a child.

“It makes you human,” he murmurs into your hair, running his hands up and down your sides. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feeling of his warm, calloused fingers on your skin.

“I’m scared, Joel,” you whisper. “Whatever that was, it feels like it’s a part of me now—like…I’ll be fighting it forever.” His eyes darken, even as he kisses the side of your head gently once, then twice. “I close my eyes and she’s there. I can hear her, feel her. I…I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

That fucking neighborhood. Why the fuck were you even in that neighborhood? There wasn’t even anything useful in any of those houses. You try to tell yourself that all of it could’ve been avoided, if you had just decided to head straight back to Jackson, but it’s a fantasy. In this world, it was inevitable.

Joel still hasn’t answered you. Instead, he presses his lips to your throat again, this time with teeth, and sucks hard where your neck meets your shoulder. You should be wondering why he’s not responding when you’re so clearly distraught, but the only thing you can think about is the delicious pain blooming under your skin. When he finally speaks, it’s a low hum against the fresh bruise.

“I never wanted this for ya,” he nips at you sharply, his beard dragging roughly against your sensitive skin, and you gasp, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging. He groans, hips stuttering into your thigh, and the need to feel him bare and heavy on top of you is overwhelming. “I tried to protect ya—wanted to save you from this. All of it. But I failed ya.” There’s anger in his voice now, and it feels violent. He’s aggressive in the way he touches you, and though you know he’d never purposely hurt you, you think you want him to. “This world takes and takes and takes, and we’re forced to adapt,” he all but growls. “You’re no more a monster than anyone else.”

Rationally, you know it’s true. The bloodlust you feel—you’ve seen it before, in the eyes of raiders you’ve come across on the outside and in the hungry gaze of infected, all of them desperate to tear into you, to take what they want. Looking into Joel’s eyes now, you see it there, too.

The room feels hotter, somehow, like his body heat suddenly spiked, and it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You press your hand into the soft skin of his stomach and it burns like molten lava, begging you to play with fire.

He snatches your hand from where it’s splayed beneath his shirt and drags it under the waistband of his sweatpants to cup his hardening cock, and you suck in a harsh breath through your teeth. Fuuuuuck. You’re not in charge here, you realize, not now.

“Tonight, I want you to give in to me, alright? You let me take control. ‘m gonna fix it,” he grits out. “Gonna fix everythin’, just need you to trust me,” and you do. You’ll let yourself go, because even though that dark, horrible part of you doesn’t want to submit to him, your body clearly does. It’s a power struggle you hope you lose.

His hand doesn’t leave yours once it’s wrapped around him and, instead, leads your fingers to grip him tightly as he sets a strong, steady pace. You give him a rough squeeze, and he throbs, leaking a bead of precum onto your fingers that you thumb over his head, digging your nail into the slit.

Joel chokes out a moan, hand releasing yours to bury itself in your hair, and begins to fuck your fist in earnest, each thrust punctuated with a sharp exhale. It’s like gripping steel, hard and smooth and searing.

Or a metal pipe. Fucking hell, he feels so much like that fucking metal pipe and you clench down around nothing, your cunt soaked and devastatingly empty. More precum leaks from the tip, and he’s so wet now, your palm sliding easily up his cock and back down to squeeze the base.

It makes you see red—viscous, red blood coating your fingers, and you release him, pulling your hand away to suck it off each one. It’s not real. Of course, it’s not real. The creamy liquid on your fingers tastes like Joel, bitter and heady, but still, you can’t get the thought of his blood in your mouth out of your head now.

God, that’s so fucked up. You must look half crazed right now, pupils blown wide as you look up at him through your lashes, each glistening finger pulling from your mouth with a pop. But he looks angry at what he sees in your eyes, and suddenly both of his hands are on your hips and he’s slamming you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress with his entire weight. You’re not following his rules.

“Baby…baby,” he moans, finally brushing his lips against yours, soft and wet, and licking a line across the roof of your mouth as he grinds into your aching pussy. “Stop fightin’ me. Just…focus on me, right here. Lemme make you feel good.” You whine pathetically into his mouth as he runs his hands up your sides, fingers catching on your shirt and dragging up until his thumbs brush the underside of your tits.

Lifting your shirt up just enough to expose your pebbling nipples, he leans back on his heels and looks down at you hungrily, like he wants to devour you whole. And fuck, you need him to. But you also want to take and take and take, itching for the fight.

His head lolls to the side as he takes you in. “Fuck, baby…,” he mumbles, as he drops a hand to palm himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful like this. So good for me, my—” He pauses to squeeze his cock, and groans out, “...my brave, strong girl.”

There’s a massive wet patch on the front of his sweatpants from where you soaked him through your underwear, and his eyes roll back when he feels it, warm and sticky against his fingertips. Your mouth waters and you’re starting to feel a little desperate now that he’s stopped touching you. You don’t even notice the whine that escapes your lips as he continues to jerk himself off through the fabric.

“What, brave girl?” he coos, biting back a growl at the warring emotions on your pretty features. He reaches forward to thumb a nipple, his touch rough and calloused. “I promised I’d make ya feel good, didn’t I?” He tweaks it and you keen, hips canting upward in search of friction. “Feels that good, huh?” he rasps, smug at how your body responds to him.

A strong hand forces your hips back onto the bed, trapping you against the mattress, and you feel a sudden, intense urge to slap him. Heat blooms in your lower belly and you feel yourself gush at the thought. “Joel…fuck, just fucking touch me. Please.”

The sides of his mouth quirk down and he nods, like he’s thinking it over. Asshole. You know you’re still breaking his rules but, by now, you’re too horny to care. You don’t think sex with Joel has ever been like this, nor do you think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Christ, if he doesn’t fuck you soon—

You lurch forward to tug at his pants in a moment of weakness, but he’s quicker than you and snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head. The scratches on your arms are still raw and angry, and the skin pulls painfully as he tightens his hold. It’s another reminder of earlier today, and you muster up all of the strength in your body to rip your arms out of his grip, but he shoves you down by your shoulders.

“If you keep that up, I’m not gonna give you this,” he warns you, flipping the waistband of his pants down just enough to free his cock, thick and leaking all over itself. Your thighs squeeze together at the sight of it, and you abruptly feel remorseful, ready to beg for it if you have to.

Fuck, he’s powerful. And fuck, his tactic is working. The power struggle you hoped you’d lose—you’re pretty sure you just lost. You can tell the moment Joel recognizes acceptance on your face and, immediately, you’re being yanked onto your hands and knees, ass in the air and face smushed on one side against the mattress. He’s rewarding you.

It’s like his hands are laser-focused and, yet, still everywhere all at once.

“Brave girl,” he murmurs, mouthing a wet trail down your spine. “That’s my girl—g-good, good girl.” He’s already starting to stutter, his voice breathless and shaky. Joel gets mouthy when he’s pussy-drunk, like he just can’t help but verbalize every filthy, incoherent thought when he’s inside you.

You clench in anticipation as he grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, precum soaking into your underwear and mixing with your own slick. He slides the offending fabric halfway down your thighs and then stops, and you can feel his breath, hot and humid, against your cunt as he spreads your legs for better access.

He wastes no time licking a wide stripe up your sopping core before swirling his tongue against your clit and sucking hard. It punches a moan out of your chest and your mind goes blank as you grind back into his mouth. The sound of skin slapping roughly against skin reaches your ears and you realize he’s jerking himself off as he devours you, groaning raggedly as he fucks into you with his tongue.

What the fuck, you’re so fucking close already. Frantic, you reach out to Joel behind you, managing to tug a fistful of his hair. “J-Joel…ngh, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine pathetically, drooling onto the sheets. “I can’t…I— please, ‘m so empty. Don’t make me c-cum empty, Joel.”

It happens so fast. Your entire body is thrown forward with the weight of him, as he sheathes himself in your heat to the hilt in one violently powerful thrust, and oh, oh fuck, you’ll never get used to how big Joel is. The stretch is almost painful and you bear down on him, not expecting the sudden intrusion.

“Baby…girl. Squeezin’ me so tight, so f-fucking tight,” he moans helplessly, already starting to babble as he fucks into you. “Fuck, your pussy gets s-so tight when you’re…,” he reaches around to rub circles into your clit and you start to pulse around him, “about—ngh, to cum.”

With his other hand, he grips the back of your neck, squeezing just enough to remind you who’s in control; of your pleasure, of your safety. The new angle drives his cock directly into that soft, spongy spot inside you that has your jaw dropping, staccatoed moans punched out of your lungs with each thrust.

“‘m gonna cum. Fuuck, fuck, ‘m cumming…Joel, ‘m—,” your pussy convulses hard, and you soak his cock as you cum with a hoarse shout. Joel growls over your shoulder, slamming into you over and over, your pussy squelching loud and wet.

Your arms and legs give out, and Joel grips your hips with both hands, hovering above your ass as he fucks into you, thrusts harder and more frantic. He’s so close, the telltale signs obvious to you, now.

He barely has time to choke out a panicked, “where?” and hear you moan, “on my face,” before he’s thrusting once, twice, and pulling out, rolling you over and bracketing your head with his thighs. You rub your hands up and down them as he jerks himself off above you. For a moment, he gazes down at you in wonder, like maybe you’re a beautiful figment of his imagination, and then he’s cumming hard.

Joel sounds wrecked, his groan long and drawn out, as his cock spurts thick ropes across your lips and tongue, dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. Shifting down your body, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue. He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands.

“I told you I’d fix it.”

And he did. He put your broken pieces back together and overwrote your bad memories.

Now, all you see, all you can hear is Joel. Your thoughts are a mishmash of searing hot skin, his lips, soft and wet against yours, and mind-numbing pleasure.

Your skin is still warm and sticky with his release, and it tastes so undeniably like him. Woody and salty, and right.

It’s quiet, now—peaceful—and everything doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

Strong arms pull you close and you sigh, tired and relieved, into his embrace. Joel holds you tighter as you drift off to sleep, murmuring something you don’t quite catch against your cheek, and you feel safe.

From the monsters beyond the walls and the one in the mirror.

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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pedroshotwifey · 7 months

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Birthday Present

In honor of our father's birthday ;)

(Picture of Pedro but can be pictured as either Joel) <3

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, implied age gap but not specified, daddy kink, Joel calls himself daddy because Joel is daddy, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), slight over-stimulation, Joel and reader are in love because I said so, Joel likes tits, smut, fluff, im probably forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: You do your best to give Joel the best birthday, and he lets you know how much he appreciates it.

A/N: This is officially the shortest thing I've written! I wrote it all on short notice so I hope it doesn't sound rushed or anything :,) ***

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. Gonna kill me before those clickers even get the goddamn chance.”

You giggle as you stare up at Joel. That’s exactly the kind of reaction you had been hoping for. You’ve been planning this day for close to a week, after all. It took a good bit of trading, but you somehow managed to get a lingerie set as well as ingredients for a cake—both of those things being a rare delicacy nowadays.

“Yeah, you like your gift, Daddy?” you ask him with feigned innocence. He tilts his head and gives you a warning look. You know damn well that he likes it. Who wouldn’t? He comes home after a long day of work to find his girl spread out on his bed, wrapped up in white, baby doll style lingerie, complete with a pretty little ribbon in her hair.

His perfect little birthday present. Joel keeps his hungry gaze on your barely-covered body as he kicks his boots off. His cock is already fighting to get out of its confines, his large bulge obvious against his jeans.

“Hands and knees, baby girl,” he commands as he starts to work on his jacket. You obey him immediately, turning around and planting your forearms on the mattress, your ass high up in the air. Joel grunts behind you as he looks up to see you presenting yourself. There is only a small, lacy scrap of fabric separating him from your soft pussy.

“Daddy’s gonna get good use outta his gift, ain't he, sweetheart,” he says as he walks over to you, his voice deep with lust. You know he’s hungry for this, After a stressful day, his favorite thing to do is come home and fuck the shit out of you. His perfect girl, staying home and cleaning the house, cooking him good meals, warming his bed, starting his showers. You deserve the world, and he hates that he can’t give it to you.

Instead, he brings you gifts. Perfumes, outfits, treats, books, and the like. He treats you like an absolute princess, and fucks you just the way you need. He never fails to make you feel special and appreciated. Your love for him seems to somehow grow more everyday, and his for you.

“Please, Daddy, it’s all yours,” your voice is breathy and your legs are already shaking in anticipation. You hear Joel chuckle behind you and turn around to look, only to see him standing, fully undressed now, with his hardened cock in his hand. The involuntary moan you let out at the sight is just bordering on pornagraphic.

His dick never fails to intimidate you. The fact that it stands at a little over seven inches fully erect is enough to make your eyes widen even without the girth. With the ridiculous girth, however, it makes you want to get on your knees and worship him until he’s coming all over your face—which is what you decide to do.

Joel opens his mouth to question you as you slink from the bed, but you’re down in front of him with his cock in your small hand before he has the chance. He lets out a choked groan as you squeeze the tiniest bit before licking a stripe up the bottom of his shaft. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair for stability, rustling the ribbon you had secured there.

“Fuck, darlin’” he says through gritted teeth. He pushes you forward slightly with his hand, encouraging you to go further. Getting the hint, you lean forward and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You waste no time in suctioning to the head, making Joel moan above you.

“Yeah, there you go baby, just like that,” he praises through clenched teeth as you begin to take him deeper down your throat. It doesn’t take too much of you sucking and licking his dick to have Joel on the edge. You hum, sending vibrations up his body as you feel how close he’s getting.

As soon as he starts to shake, you’re pulled away from him, his cock dropping from your mouth. Confused, you look up at him to see the way he has his eyes closed in concentration.

“Such a good girl for Daddy, baby, but I wanna fuck that pretty pussy,” he says once he opens his eyes. “Get back up on the bed for me, angel.”

Smiling, you follow his orders, this time laying on your back with your ass close to the edge. You want to be able to look into his pretty eyes as he ruins you. You spread your legs wide for him as he comes closer, a feral look in his eyes.

“Goddamn, baby, wanna unwrap my present, but I’m too fuckin’ impatient,” he says as he rushes toward you, his hand coming out to play with your lacy panties. “Wanna play with my toy now.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” you assure him with another giggle. “I want you to play with your toy, too.”

Joel doesn’t wait any longer to slot between your legs, put them over his shoulders, and pull your panties to the side just enough to slam his cock into your cunt. The force of the first thrust knocks the breath out of you, but it’s okay since you would have forgotten how to breath, anyway.

He always makes you feel so full. It’s like as soon as he stuffs his dick into you, every thought leaves your mind, only leaving enough room for him. You gasp in the air you lost as Joel pulls out just enough to leave the tip in before shoving back in to kiss your g-spot with his cock.

“Oh, God, Daddy,” your speech is slurred as you begin to go cock-dumb. Joel chuckles darkly as he starts a rapid pace. You bring your hands up to play with your nipples through your lingerie, but he quickly shoves your arms away before tugging at the top of the set.

He pulls just enough to let your breasts spill free, his eyes becoming transfixed on the way they bounce up and down with each of his thrusts.

“There you go, baby, play with those pretty tits for me, now.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You immediately resume your earlier actions, whining at the friction. You can feel the pressure already building up in your core, and it’s quickly enhanced as Joel brings one of his hands down to rub rough circles over your clit. You moan loudly as you quickly approach the edge.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” Joel questions as he starts making faster and tighter circles. “Gonna come all over Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes, yes,” you start. “S-so good, gonna come for you,” your voice comes out whiny and high pitched but you can’t find it in you to care. It only takes a few more seconds for you to gush around Joel’s dick. You cry out as you squeeze around him and he rides you through it.

“T-there you go, baby girl, so fuckin’ good f’ me.”

You can tell by the way he stutters as he speaks that he’s close again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and frantic. He doesn’t stop moving as he grabs your ankles to bring your legs back down and wrap them around his waist. You immediately cross your ankles together behind him and use them to pull him closer to you.

Once your legs are where he wants them, he brings his hand back down and touches your lips with his fingertips, requesting entry. You quickly oblige, opening your lips to allow him to dip his fingers into your mouth. Once they’re covered in your spit, he draws them back out and brings them to your overstimulated clit.

You keen at the pressure as he starts his circles again. Somehow, your second orgasm seems to come on faster than the first. Between Joel’s fingers swirling over your clit and the way his cock is consistently slamming into that heavenly spot inside you, you’re gushing around his cock within seconds.

Joel groans as you finish again. You barely register the way he wraps his arms around you to bring you into a semi-sitting position. The change makes it so that your tits are at the perfect height for Joel to duck down and take a nipple into his mouth, which he eagerly does. Your hand flies into his sweaty curls as he begins to suck.

At the same time you scream, you feel his cock throb inside you, followed by thick ropes of cum painting your walls. The feeling triggers your third orgasm, and Joel finds just enough strength to pull away from your breast and find your swollen lips with his own.

He kisses you hungrily as you both come down from your highs. He moans and grunts into your mouth as he shakes, and you readily swallow every sound. Once you both start to calm down, he settles you back onto your back and then takes the spot next to you, both of you laying on the bed while trying to catch your breath.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you say after a few minutes. You hear Joel chuckle next to you and your smile widens. You’ll never get enough of that sound.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he says, choosing to ignore your ‘old man’ comment. “Couldn’t have asked for a better present.”

Your chest warms. You haven’t even given him his cake yet.

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #birthday #fluff #i absolutely despise tagging #one shot

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