#( joel miller: babydin )

[babydin]

Make A Wish - REQUEST

ANON REQUESTED: But what if Sarah never died? And Reader was married to Joel pre-outbreak but when the outbreak happened they (Reader and Sarah) got separated from Joel and he was convinced they had both died. But then they reunite in Jackson.

- Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Joel is dad, references to violence, domesticated af, angsty, fluff, pre-outbreak, post-outbreak, time-jumps. - 2490 words  - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: I had some song inspo with this one in the way of Zambezi by Rationale (released under Tinashe). I also headcanoned that the Miller brothers are (at least) half Latino seeing as they had two Latino actors play them. Fight me on it.

Do you remember the day the soldiers came with all their guns? 'Cause I remember begging you to leave my love, "Just run! Past the river, don't you dare look back for me my love. I will come. I will come, because you're the one."

 You knew what you were getting yourself into. Your mother thought you were insane but she didn’t know Joel Miller like you did. He was 4 years divorced when you met him with the sweetest little girl. He made it clear from the outset that he was a single father, and Sarah’s mother had left when Sarah was a baby and she wasn’t coming back “I’m tellin’ y’now because girls tend t’ cut an’ run the second they find out I’m a twofer.” he explained on the first date your best friend had set you up on. “Sarah is my number one, she is my top priority.”

You hadn’t intended to date anyone who ‘was a twofer’ as he put it, but the way he spoke about his daughter, and the way his face lit up when he did, you knew you wanted to give him a shot.   You dated, you married after two years of being together, and you had 8 years of marital bliss as a perfectly happy family before the world turned on its ass.

OUTBREAK DAY

You find Joel and Sarah in the kitchen making dinner. The Clash are playing from a vinyl record in the next room and they’re both so into it; You remember Joel telling you that Sarah had been a fan of the Clash since she was a baby.

“You should be sitting down doing nothing, birthday boy.” You tell him, swatting his rear end playfully as you lean over his shoulder to see what he’s fixing. Of course it’s a chili con carne; he was half Texan half Latino.

“And leave the cookin’ to you two? Yeah ‘cus that’s how I wanna spend the rest of my birthday… dead.”

“Hey!” Sarah drawls.

You pinch his sides and it coaxes a ticklish squeal from him.

Sarah goes to set the dinner table, singing to Joe Strummer's ongoing debate about whether he should stay or whether he should go.

There’s an almighty bang from somewhere and it’s enough to make Joel put his spoon down, “Sarah?”

You both turn around to go into the dining room but Sarah’s on her way back with a fist full of cutlery to ask the same question.

“What the hell was that?” Joel asked, “Did you drop something? Did something fall?”

Sarah shakes her head, her ringlets bounce as she does and her eyes are full of fear.

Joel’s trying to figure out if she means that or if she’s saying no because she’s scared to say yes. The second bang answers his question.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, and goes to the front door to see what’s going on. Sarah finds comfort in your arms and you rub your hand over her back and tell her it’ll be okay. You can hear commotion outside and you put one hand over Sarah’s ear and press her into your chest so she can’t hear.  You can hear Joel talking to the neighbors but you can’t hear what he’s saying, then suddenly there’s a PA urging people to stay inside.

Joel comes back after a few moments, “Military jets,” he says from the hallway as he makes his way back through the house “they just sonic “they just went supersonic, there’s somethin’ happenin’.” he doesn’t come back to you, he goes straight to the living room and turns on the TV. You don’t fully listen to what is said but you hear the words ‘risk to life’ and ‘infected’.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

You jump nearly out of your skin and cling tighter to Sarah when the door bursts open and Joel’s brother Tommy runs through the house “Joelie! Joel!” He finds the two of you in the kitchen and then Joel joins you all.

“What the fuck is going on man?” Joel begs the question, leaning in to turn off the stove. The chili is ruined now, he’s sure of it.

“There are soldiers everywhere, they’re telling everyone to stay inside, but the infection is spreading like wildfire here, if we stay we ain’t got a chance in hell Joel, we have to get out of town.”

You feel Sarah’s body tremble and there’s a slight moisture that falls on your shirt and you realize she’s silently crying. If you squeeze her any tighter she might suffocate but you do anyway, just to try and shield her from the horrors that are unfolding. She had started calling you Mom when she was 9 years old, and you loved her like she was yours from the day you met,  “We can’t just leave. We can’t–” You look at Joel desperately.

Joel looks at you, and he looks at Tommy. You can see he’s torn, he needs to keep his family safe and right now he doesn’t know if leaving is the safest option or staying put is.

Should I stay or should I go? 

“Alright, let’s go.” He says finally. “Go upstairs, throw some stuff in a bag.”

“Hurry up.” Tommy adds.

  You punch him in the chest as you walk past him, holding Sarah’s hand to lead her upstairs to help her pack a bag. You try to keep her talking to distract her from the screaming, and the gunfire from the situation that has escalated outside, through the window you see a faint glow of flames and you wonder how the hell you’re even going to make it out of the town. It’s difficult for a 14 year old to whittle down the most important things in her life to one rucksack, it’s difficult for you to decide what from your 10 year relationship with Joel means enough to survive the apocalypse. Because that’s how it felt. You take your wedding photos, you take childhood photos from Sarah’s life; things like that can’t be replaced but other shit can.

You both head back downstairs and you throw Joel his bag. The vinyl has stopped and it’s now skipping but it doesn’t feel like there’s time to lift the needle. You just leave the house and cram into Tommy’s truck. Something down the street catches Joel’s eye and he gets back out again.

“Joel!” you and Tommy both yell at the same time Sarah cries out “Daddy!”

“I’ll catch you up!” he yells back.

“The fuck you will.” You mutter under your breath, getting out of the truck too, “Joel Miller!”

He stops and turns around, “Run.” he orders, looking over your shoulder at his crying daughter in the back seat of the truck, “I’ll find you.” he looks back at you, “I promise I’ll find you.”

There are soldiers surrounding you who start to scream at you to get back inside your house, their guns aimed to tell you that their threats are serious.

“I’ll find you.” 

FOUR YEARS LATER

You knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you fell in love with Joel Miller and his four year old daughter. Your mother thought you were insane and maybe she was right. What you didn’t expect was for a bunch of mutant mushrooms to eat away at people’s brains and turn them into, well, there was no easier way to say it than zombies. You didn’t expect Joel to be missing, presumed dead, and to raise Sarah mostly by yourself. The people of Jackson were helpful people, they were in a tight knit community because they had no choice but to be. Where else were they going to go in a world of nothing? It had been four years since you last saw Joel. Four years, nine months and twenty nine days to be exact. You made a point to count the days because you didn’t want Sarah to ever miss a birthday. She was turning 18 now, and if the world was normal she’d be getting excited to make plans for college and register to vote - because Sarah Miller was very opinionated and had a good head on her shoulders, and she definitely would not have let her voice go unheard - but the world wasn’t normal. So you woke as you always did, tucked up together in a double bed, the morning sun illuminating the room with a golden glow and the two of you stretching like a couple of lazy house cats. “Happy birthday, baby!” You croak, pulling her closer. The older she got the closer your relationship became, it might’ve been pathetic but she was your best friend and you hoped you were hers. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult (although it pained you to admit she hadn’t been a child for a long time). “Thank you.” She smiled sleepily and scrubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for you counting down the days. “What’s your birthday wish this year?” You ask. Sarah sighed and looked over your shoulder at the photograph on your nightstand of you and Joel on your wedding day, six year old Sarah who had been a flower girl, tucked onto his hip as you all smiled into the camera. A perfect picture of a happy family. “Him.” It’s been the same wish for the last four years, and you wish you could fulfill it for her. “I know, baby. I miss him too.. More than anything actually. I don’t miss going to the movies, or grocery shopping, or parent-teacher conferences or any of the boring, mundane stuff that just doesn’t exist anymore. At least not in the capacity that it used to… I just miss him.” In an attempt to lighten the mood a little you add, “I made a cake for you last night, you want some for your breakfast?” “For breakfast?!” “It’s your birthday! And you’re an adult now.” The day passes by as the days often do, slowly and unspectacularly. On slow days nothing happens in Jackson, occasionally bandits come and try to raid the dam that powers the town but their missions are always shut down quickly by those appointed to secure it. You and Sarah are tending to the patch of vegetables you have in your front yard when you hear a voice from the entrance of the town echo “Stop right there!” Both of you look up. You can’t see what’s happening but you wish people would stop pointing their guns. You can only assume someone has wandered through the forest and found the town, the guard on the gate has stopped them in their tracks. Understandably, newcomers aren’t welcomed warmly in fear of infection. You see the person set down a rifle, and a backpack and their hands disappear from their side to, you assume, rise in surrender. You strain slightly and hear a gruff voice speak but you cannot make out words and no matter where you position yourself you cannot get a good look at the newcomer.  The guard yells for Tommy, who is always close by and your interest is piqued. You rise from your knees and your eyes scan for where Tommy is going to come from, when you find him you watch him, you study his face and you watch it fall. He points a finger at the guard, “Put your fucking gun down! Don’t you dare! Don’t you shoot!” he picks up his pace, he jogs, he runs. You start to walk and you hear a second voice yell for Tommy. It’s the newcomer’s voice. It’s familiar somehow. The two men come into view, locked in a tight embrace, you can only see Tommy but you keep walking towards them, you barely hear Sarah calling out ‘Mom’ from the swirling in your head. “Tommy?” You ask when you’re in earshot. The newcomer pries himself out of Tommy’s grip and his head snaps in your direction. A lump forms in your throat and your chest heaves so much you feel as if you could throw up. Joel. It’s him. It’s really him. He’s got flecks of silver running through his hair now, maybe a few more wrinkles. Patches of darkened skin from wounds he’s gained over the years, and a few small fresh purple bruises. You haven’t seen him cry since Sarah moved up from Kindergarten to big girl school and she was gone all day and he didn’t know what to do with himself. You thought he’d be better when she went from middle school to high school but he was just as bad then. But he was crying now. He was sobbing in such a way you wondered if he’d been alone for these years apart; you didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He was here. You could hardly believe it. Your eyes filled with tears of joy; you had dreamed of the day that Joel might be returned to you, although you had given up hope of that ever happening, you had imagined yourself being the same sobbing mess that Joel was but you weren’t at all. Your body was vibrating with delight, and your smile was so big your cheeks were hurting. “Hi.” you whispered. That was all it took for him to drag you into his arms and squeeze you so tightly that it almost winded you. You took all of him in again, the feeling of his body against yours, his arms wrapped around you, the smell of him in your nose. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” he whispered, “I thought you’d—” he couldn’t finish that sentence, but you knew, because you thought the same of him.  “You said you’d find us. You did.” Us. Joel’s eyes open and scan the surroundings over your shoulder, you hear him sob and he pulls away from you and he runs towards her. His baby girl. Sarah starts crying as she jumps up into his arms, her limbs wrapping around him like a koala bear. It doesn’t matter how old she gets, she’ll always be his baby. You approach them and hear Joel whispering “Look at you,” as he brushes his hand over the back of her head, “my little girl, look at you.” Sarah dropped down so she could look at him too, your arms wrapped around Joel’s middle as he studied her face so carefully, his fingers delicately mapping out her features, “You’re all grown up,” he says in a chuckle, but with a hint of sorrow in his voice. “I wished for you.” Sarah tells him, her voice has more childlike innocence in it than you’ve heard in a long time. “Today is my birthday, Daddy. I wished for you.” Joel put one arm around you so he could embrace the both of you, “I always knew you were magic, babygirl.” “Are you staying here with us? Are we going to be a family again?” “No.” you answer before Joel does, much to the surprise of your husband and daughter, “Not until he’s had a shower.” Joel breathes out a sigh of relief and kisses your forehead.

[outoftheseine]

- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS PART 2 -

forever in love with this grumpy old man <3 | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. most of these fics are age-gap relationship and some have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part 1 | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

love in the middle of a fireflight | part 2 | part 3 • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @babydin

your bear | part 2 • joel miller x daughter!reader

↳ by @rrickgrrimes8 (very angsty, hurt/comfort)

a helping hand • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @teacupcollector

a lover's pinch • prof!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @hier--soir (smut, au, angst, secret relationship)

i will be home for christmas • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @punkshort (no outbreak, fluff, smut, angst but happy ending, hurt/comfort)

lavender • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @justagalwhowrites

seeing you, seeing me • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @amywritesthings (slow burn, smut)

fate, after all • joel miller x f!oc!reader

↳ by @honeyedmiller (fluff, smut, no-outbreak)

ambush | part 2 • joel miller x reader

↳ by @huntergarrity (angst, violence, hurt/comfort)

seams • joel miller x reader

↳ by @fuckyeahdindjarin (self-conscious!joel, shy!reader, fluff, slow burn, explicit)

soft!joel collection • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @cavillscurls (smut, fluff, angst, soft and domestic!joel)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

daisy, give me an answer • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @dilf-din (fluff)

take this moment • joel miller x reader

↳ by @mylostloversbookmarks (post-outbreak, fluff)

ground me • joel miller x reader

↳ by @huntergarrity (fluff, comfort)

clouded judgement/clear mind • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bluebeary-jay (violence, angst, hurt/comfort)

keep your eyes on me • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @mgparker (angst, violence, protective!joel)

daydreams • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @morning-star-joy (grumpy x sunshine, fluff)

i hope you are happy • joel miller x reader

↳ by @blissfulbarbie (very angsty, no outbreak)

grays • joel miller x reader

↳ by @softlyspector (domestic fluff, insecure!joel)

sweet creature • dad!joel miller x reader

↳ by @rocketrhap3000 (so fluffy)

lacy • joel miller x reader

↳ by @toxic-seduction (angst but happy ending)

bloodshed, crimson clover • joel miller x fem!doctor!reader

↳ by @morning-star-joy (slow burn, angst, violence)

arms tonite • joel miller x reader

↳ by @motherjoel (angst, reader gets hurt, happy ending)

skater • joel miller x platonic!gn!reader

↳ by @rrickgrrimes8 (angst, hurt/comfort, father figure!joel, tw: drowning)

be my daddy • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bastardmandennis (no outbreak, smut, fluff, slightly angsty)

how the cookie crumbles • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @egcdeath (no outbreak, fake dating, slow burn, slight angst, fluff, idiots in love)

day after tomorrow • joel miller x reader

↳ by @familyvideostevie (no outbreak, fluff)

it’s your turn for choosing • joel miller x reader

↳ by @familyvideostevie (modern au, fluff)

i’m a feminist obviously • joel miller x reader

↳ by @toxic-seduction (protective!joel, violence)

softness • post outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @joelsgreys (fluff, joel is a dad, tw: premature birth)

as long as i have you • jackson era!joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @beskarandblasters (very fluffy, slight angst)

sweetheart • post-outbreak!joel millet x fem!reader

↳ by @joels-shitty-puns (fluff, light angst)

are you mine? • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @eupheme (protective and soft!joel, fluff, light angst)

a forever thing • husband!joel miller x pregnant!wife!reader

↳ by @honeyedmiller (fluff)

the revenant wife • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @pettyprocrastination

butterfly • joel miller x black!latina!reader

↳ by @stargirlfics (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, slow burn)

unlikely friends • joel miller x reader

↳ by @sweetercalypso (fluff)

mischief nights • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @jupiter-soups (fluff, slight angst)

all my casualties of love • joel miller x reader/oc

↳ by @agentmarcuspike (smut, grief)

a matter of timing • joel miller x baker!fem!reader

↳ by @lavenderursa (angst, smut, comfort, neighbours to lovers)

[enretrogue]

𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟯)

.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC RECS M.LIST

TLOU

JOEL MILLER

The Light You Gave Me — @bbgjoe1mi11er

Make A Wish (+ Sarah Miller) — @babydin

Kiss It Better — @angelkhi

Joel and Javi HCs Part 3 (+ Javier Peña) — @devilmademewriteit

Clouded Judgment/Clear Mind — @bluebeary-jay

Clicking — @toxicanonymity

Just For The Night (+ Ellie Williams) — @panyvivienda

Let’s Play A Game — @bearsbeetsbeskar

Looking ⎢ Part 2 — @atinylittlepain

Soft!Protective!Joel Nursing You Back To Health — @forever-rogue

Dream World — @bubbles-for-all-of-us

Rely On You — @playbucky

Home — @proxima-writes

The Road To Love ⎢ Simply Irresistible ⎢ Crazy Little Thing Called Love — @jobean12-blog

What I Need — @swiftispunk

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby — @cowgurrrl

Just For You — @amyrran

Call My Name — @toxic-seduction

Drunk Joel Has Baby Fever — @atinylittlepain

Bullseye — @softlyspector

Smut Blurb — @velvetmud

Alone and Forsaken — @cowgurrrl

Dangerous — @jrrmint

Unmet Expectation — @atinylittlepain

Bétteln ⎢ Part 2 — @nettherfeildren

That’s A Real Fucking Legacy: Burgundy — @wyn-n-tonic

Help Me Hold Onto You — @proxima-writes

Interrupted — @holacia3

Dead Weight — @lovers-liability

To You — @marvelwitchergilmore

An Unexpected Addition — @atinylittlepain

What If — @youlightmeupfinn

Your Smile!— @kausstar

To Build A Home — @cowgurrrl

Soft!Joel — @forever-rogue

I’ll Always Come Back — @pedropascallme

Little Flower — @apollyonsdarksecrets

Unplanned — @softlyspector

Nightmare + Comfort — @softlyspector

Miller’s Bookstore — @toxic-seduction

Apothecary ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 — @atinylittlepain

Wyoming Museum (+ Daughter!Ellie Williams) — @fhatbhabie

Late Night Excursion — @cxrsed-angel

Eyes Open ⎢ 2 — @prentissluvr

A Mother’s Strength — @josephquinnswhore

In Her Defense — @swiftispunk

Like Real People Do — @cowgurrrl

Help Her (+ Ellie + Tess) — @worldserasingandcreatinginmymind

Lovers and Love — @peterparkersnose

The Run — @wordywarriorwrites

I Got What You Need — @inkedells

5 Times Joel Almost Kissed You + The One Time He Did — @forever-rogue

Pre/No Outbreak Joel x Black!Reader— @pedges .☘︎ ݁˖

Sitting In Joel’s Lap Wearing Nothing But A Skirt — @inkedells

Toyin’ With Them Older Guys — @proxima-writes

My Girls (+ Ellie Williams) — @iiconicxpersona

It’s Gonna Have To Be Enough — @brighttears

Twenty Years Later — @yelena-bellova

Say Something ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 — @toxic-seduction

She’s A Gun — @cowgurrrl

Koala Bear — @bubbles-for-all-of-us

You’re My Sunshine — @littlelou22

Lonely Hearts Club — @be4rchived

Oblivion — @ezrasversion

[space-zaddy-din-djarin]

Joel Miller

(Last Updated: April 4, 2024)

gilded lily by @foli-vora

Her Sanctuary by @josephquinnswhore

Drip by @trulybetty

Mercy by @lokischocolatefountain

Why She Took Me by @colonelarr0w

Why She Spared Me by @colonelarr0w

Rip My Hear Out by @colonelarr0w

Tainted Words by @colonelarr0w

Feral Masterlist by @ohraicodoll

Till Death Do Us Part by @imgeekgirlfan

Blood by @sweetly-yours-and-mine

Only Just A Dream by @justsomerandomfanfic

My Boy Build Coffins by @hiddenbabynyc

The Revenant Wife by @pettyprocrastination

No Time To Die by @davosmymaster

clouded judgement / clear minded by @bluebeary-jay

Transactional by @blueeyesatnight

No Complaints by @theetherealbloom

Her by @babydin

Blood Runs Cold by @nicomundthered

A Mother's Rage by @colonelarr0w

nobody's son, nobody's daughter. by @fragilefable

this post :'(( by @tlouobsessed

Fine Again by @gracie7209

She's A Gun by @cowgurrrl

Eat Your Young by @cowgurrrl

If I Ever Were to Lose You by @cowgurrrl

Transactional by @blueeyesatnight

The Last of Us Masterlist by @blueeyesatnight

Killer by @cowgurrrl

Don't See Me That Way by @blueeyesatnight

“It’s all right. You’re with me.” by @skoulsons (New)

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? by @morning-star-joy (New)

Breathe Through It by @tommysversion (New)

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (1/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1868 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

You haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode.

“Joel I–” The words catch in your throat as he looks up at you after hearing his name. He always has an expectant look on his face whenever you say his name; he’d been so attentive since the two of you had settled town in Jackson with Ellie. You didn’t dare say it out loud, or to his face, but the man was domesticated. He was tamed and you hadn’t done a thing, he’d just set his battles aside. Both of them were, Ellie had agreed to go to school, and Joel helped around the town in the mornings then returned home for a late lunch. Just to prove your point, he was doing dishes when you found him.   “Joel, I’m late.”

He set down the bowl from breakfast he was drying with a dish towel and then wiped his hands on his jeans, “Well, where d’ya need t’ be? I’ll drive you.” Your face scrunches and you shake your head, you’d smile if you weren’t so scared. You don’t want to say it out loud, saying it out loud would make it real. Maybe if the world hadn’t fallen apart and supplies weren’t limited, risks weren’t significantly higher because of all of that you’d be a little more excited, you’d have ran to the nearest drugstore to buy a home pregnancy test and taken it immediately. “Joel.” you say his name again, firmer this time, hoping he hears you. He’s halfway between grabbing the keys to his truck and the kitchen sink, those attentive eyes trying so desperately to figure out what you’re trying to say. Your fingers grip the counter and your heels push back into the ground so your head can bow down to the ground;  if you’re going to say it, you don’t want to look at him, “I haven’t missed a period since I was 14. You could set a clock on it. I should’ve had it three fuckin’ weeks ago, Joel.” His silence is deafening. There’s no elation, there isn’t any regret though either, and if you know Joel like you think you do he’s probably going through the same thought process as you are. Thinking about where the supplies are going to come from, how the baby is going to be born, babies had been born since the outbreak it wasn’t unheard of but he wasn’t exactly carrying a four leafed clover. Except you knew Joel’s history, you knew he had lost a child, you knew he had struggled to bond with Ellie when they first met, you knew how reluctant he had been to open his heart up to being a father again when he felt himself getting closer to her. But he was a dad now, her dad; they had a strange relationship and they cursed at each other and played at roughhousing in the living room, they’d zing each other and then laugh about it afterwards, but Joel tucked her in every night and he listened to her problems and helped her with homework, and hugged her so tightly when her emotions got too big for her to voice. You take a breath and it shakes in desperation, fighting to keep your shit together as you felt his gaze burning into you, “Say something Joel, for fucks sa–” “It’s going to be fine.” There was that asshole voice you thought he had given up when you had settled down in Tommy’s town, you had to pull yourself upwards to look at him because you did not believe a single syllable that came out of his mouth. Not in that flat, robotic tone. That wasn’t a reassurance that was a reaction. That was just something he was saying to make you feel better, it wasn’t something he believed. Suddenly, his jagged expression softened and he pushed his jaw out slightly, his eyes got bigger and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He repeats himself, “It’s going to be fine.” this time he sounds so sure. He sounds like he has a plan, he sounds like he’d walk through gunfire for you. “Let me – Let me talk to Tommy; See what kinda resources they have, maybe they got one’a those ultrasound machines,” he starts rushing, grabbing his boots and trying to put them on without sitting down which does nothing for his back, “then we’ll know for sure.” You blink hard, you haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode. “I’m sorry.” you whisper the words but he doesn’t hear you.  “I’ll be back.” he kisses your cheek and then he’s gone. You picture a world before the outbreak, where Joel never endured all that trauma and you tell him you think you’re pregnant and his face lights up and he picks you up and spins you around and offers to book your first scan. You’d spend hours on the couch talking about nursery ideas and baby names, and tell him not to get his hopes up in case you’re not actually pregnant but he just scoffs. Before the outbreak, you would’ve told Joel you thought you were pregnant and he would’ve been an excitable dad of two. In the outbreak, you told Joel you thought you were pregnant and his first instinct was how to survive it.  You sit on the couch with your arms wrapped around you and wait for him to come back. A million thoughts swirling around in your mind about every possible outcome of this, you tried your hardest to focus on the ones that ended happily, but without Joel there it was hard. “Come on.” You jump at the sound of Joel’s voice, your eyes finding a clock to see how long you had been sitting in your thoughts as he pulls you up off the couch. He’d come back at least. “Put your shoes on, darlin’. The hospital has an ultrasound, they’re callin’ for a nurse to meet us there.” It wasn’t much of a hospital, it was a bakery they had used for medical supplies. There was a refrigerator and storage large enough for medicines but it was a glorified med-bay at best. Nothing bad enough happened in Jackson for them to need a full hospital, if it did they’d have to drive out of town, and if they were lucky they'd make it in time to return for them to recover at home. In the 8 months you’d lived there, the worst thing that had happened was Mr Jellinsky getting chased out of the chicken coop by a pissed off rooster. He tripped and got his ass bit right between the cheeks and Joel laughed and said, “There’s a dick joke to be said, but I ain’t gon’ be the one to say it.” and you had never heard him sound more Southern. “Joel, what–” You didn’t know how that sentence ended. What if you are pregnant? What if you died in childbirth leaving him a single father of two? What if you weren’t pregnant? What are you going to do with a baby? “Put your shoes on.” He moved to grab your shoes from the door and brought them to your feet. “Joel—” He bent down and picked your feet up off the ground one by one to slip them into your sneakers, “You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing right now, okay? Let’s just let the nurses look at’cha and then we’ll talk.” “Are you scared?” Joel stood up and scoffed a little, he looked at you with those heavy brown eyes once again searching for your soul,reading you like a book. There was a time when he would’ve lied and tightened his jaw and said no, but not these days. “Sweet thing, I’m terrified. Let’s go.” It wasn’t at all far for you to walk from your little cabin-like home to the place you needed to be, Joel slipped his hand into yours half way there and you found such comfort in the way his large hands enveloped yours. You had never noticed how many babies were in Jackson until now, and the parents all seemed content with their lives here. As you laid back on the gurney and answered the nurse’s questions, you occasionally glanced over at Joel. He’s been here before and he’s trying to figure out how to be there again, his teeth are chewing on the inside of his cheek, you’re desperate to know if he’s more anxious to hear a yes or a no. “Have you had any other symptoms besides your period being late?” You shrug and shake your head, you’ve never been pregnant before so you don’t know what ‘symptoms’ means in this case. “Have you been peeing more than usual? Any nausea in the morning?” You try to remember, and shake your head but you really don’t recall. “Any cramping?” You hum and put your hand on your stomach but she bats it away softly so she can pull up your shirt and prepare it for the ultrasound, “I mean, a little but I was just expecting my period so I didn’t really think anything of it…” “Any tenderness or soreness in your breasts?” You shake your head again but Joel clicks his tongue in protest and pipes up in a voice that’s so gravely and sounds like he hasn’t spoken in a week, “You wouldn’t let me touch you last week because you said your nipples were sore.” You take a moment to consider his words and he almost has you convinced that maybe you are pregnant. A cold jelly like substance is dispensed onto your stomach and you gasp and your muscles twitch, the nurse smiles and apologizes. You turn to the screen and Joel moves closer to you. It fills with static that ebbs and flows as the nurse moves the probe around your lower stomach. Even as she explains it to you, you can’t make out what exactly you are looking at but you trust she knows. Then she stops, and Joel sinks to his knees, “This is your uterus–” she gestures on the screen, He wraps both of his hands around yours and brings your knuckles to his lips and you can feel his smile and his heavy breaths as he becomes overcome with emotions. “--- and this little thing here that looks like a peanut…” She didn’t need to finish that sentence for you to know how it ended. The way Joel had reacted, the way it looked on the screen, barely there but very much obvious. Your cargo. You look at Joel as the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant and his eyes are full of tears that he doesn’t allow himself to cry, he’s hiding his mouth behind your hand but his cheeks are dimpled and you know he’s smiling. Relief washes over you and you feel like a fool for doubting him for a second, a fraction of your anxieties lift and you realize he’s with you. When he said it was going to be fine, he meant it.

[babydin]

Swaddling

The days are busy, but the nights? The nights are yours. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - References to sub/dom behavior, swaddling as the title suggests (the act of keeping the p inside the v post-ejaculate), quiet sex, interrupted sex, Joel is dad, Joel is daddy, reference to spanking kink, references to oral (female receiving), references to fingering. - 1361 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens.

Joel was not a morning person. But the morning after he had spent the night with his cock inside you and woke up fucking you? That day he was definitely a morning person. 

 It was rare you got a moment alone at Tommy’s place with Joel, there was always something to do, always someone to talk to, and it wasn’t very often you found Joel without Ellie. He was always asking after her when he wasn’t with her, and her face lit up when he was around. His did too, as best as he could, but Joel had a chronic case of resting bitch face, and there were times you had asked him if he was okay and he politely reminded you “This is just my face.” As much as you struggled to find a moment to even share a kiss in the day, the nights were yours.   Sometimes Joel would already be in bed and you’d know he’d need some comfort, and he had certain tells as to exactly what he needed. If he just took your hand, then he just needed to be held, and you would hold him with one arm as the other hand raked through his salt and pepper locks until he fell asleep. If he shuffled back and pressed his ass into you, he was feeling submissive. You’d lean over and gently kiss his temple, his ear, the arch of his broad shoulder before carefully rolling him onto his back to pepper kisses across his chest. His hardened features would soften when you called him baby. You’d sit on his face and he’d moan against your cunt when you called him a good boy. Then there were nights like this one, Joel had been giving you looks all evening at dinner like he wanted to fuck you right there on the lasagne in front of his entire family because he could not contain himself. His hands wandered immediately when you were finally alone, you barely had time to change into your pyjamas and he pulled them straight back off of you. He fucked you with his fingers and every time your mouth opened he hushed you and reminded you that Ellie’s room was just next door and she was still awake, he stuffed a pillow behind the headboard of the bed before he fucked you to stop it rattling against the wall your room shared with Ellie’s and when you came you bit into his arm to stop yourself screaming. Afterwards he cradled you in his arms, your back pressed against his chest. You spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours, and gentle conversation soon turned dirty, and you were surprised that your fantasies had Joel’s length pressing into the small of your back as he got hard again. He had a lot of pep for a man in his mid-fifties. He told you that you brought it out in him. The position did not change as he entered you again, your bodies entwined, he was so deep inside you and barely moved with his thrusts so you were always full of him, his strong arms wrapped completely around you, occasionally his hand snaking up to cover your mouth when you threatened to get too loud and he shushed you in your ear and when you came it was so intense from the overstimulation that you saw the entire universe behind your eyelids.   “Stay inside me?” You ask Joel, feeling his ejaculate start to seep out of your gaping cunt as he starts to pull out. Joel halts and his brow furrows deeper, “What?” Your hips shuffle back to take in the half inch of him you’d lost, a soft whimper leaving your throat as you turn your head as best you can to look at him, “Say inside me. All night if you can.” Those arms wrap around you once more and his body entangles with your own as you find yourselves drifting into a worn-out slumber.   You wake up to Joel gently fucking you, his hips are barely moving at all, and you wonder if he’s still asleep and dreaming. He’s still inside of you, you slept through the night, you don’t know if he stayed inside the whole night or if he slipped out at any point and put himself back in. You gasp as pleasure starts to bloom in your stomach, you’re still wet from last night, and he’s never been so hard. “Joel.” You whisper his name, half to ask if he’s awake, half to let him know that you are. He doesn’t respond, you lay silent for a second to try and figure out his breathing pattern before trying to turn your head to look at him. “Joel?” you suddenly realize the position you’re in, and he’s laying on his good ear so even if he was awake he wouldn’t hear you whispering to him. He lets out a quiet, pleasured moan before taking a sharp breath in, suddenly his arms tighten around you and he pulls you closer to him and the movements of his hips become a little more certain. You come to the conclusion that he was asleep before and his arousal just woke him up. Calloused hands squeeze your breasts under the sheets and he nuzzles against your neck, his beard rough but his skin so soft considering how weather worn he looks, “I was having a dream I was fucking you… I wake up inside your wet pussy? Dreams really do come true.” The pressure was growing, there was no way you were going to last long with the way you were feeling,  you could feel every nerve ending in your body, your nose was full of the smell of him. “I swear, you’re gonna make me cum again Joel, I won’t be able to fuckin’ walk.” you whisper to him. He smiles against your jaw, teeth nipping you softly, “I’ll carry you on my back like Yoda on Luke.” Your tender moment was disturbed when the door flung open, and there stood Ellie, bright eyed and fully dressed. You were quick to pull the duvet over your face to hide it and Joel’s brow creases deepened with frustration. “Ellie!” he barked, and you hated to admit it but the way he scolded made you want to call him Daddy and have him lay you over his lap and spank you raw. “Dad, you have to come see! The sheep had babies!” she exclaimed gleefully. Joel didn’t bat an eyelid when Ellie called him Dad, but you did. He once couldn’t stand the sight of her, she was the biggest thorn in his side - which was a little harsh all things considered - but he fought tooth and nail for her safety and he fell in love. She was his girl. “It fuckin’ stinks in here.” she added innocently. You try not to laugh and make a note to crack a window when you change the sheets later. Joel scrubbed at his eyes and groaned, half in frustration, half to hide the euphoric feeling he had as his cock twitched and leaked pre-cum inside you, “I’ll be– I’ll come see the lambs with you just give me like… 5 minutes to get dressed.” you reach around and pinch his nipple between your finger and thumb and it makes him yelp in a way you’ve never heard before, the sheets shake as you fight back a giggle and he quickly corrects himself “15 minutes. Give me half an hour, I gotta take a shower, can you leave? Please?” “Why do you have a pillow behind your headboard?” “I chew it at night thinkin’ about how much I hate you because you don’t do what I tell you. Ellie, get the fuck out, I won’t ask you again.” Ellie raised her eyebrows and turned on her heel, “You are so not a morning person.” She commented before leaving and closing the door behind her. “I’d like a full apology after you’ve had your burnt bean juice!” she called out, her voice growing more distant as she walked down the hall. “With tears!” She was right, Joel was not a morning person. But the morning after he had spent the night with his cock inside you and woke up fucking you? That day he was definitely a morning person.

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight - PART TWO

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (2/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1193 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. 

PART ONE

“We’re home!”

    Joel and Ellie walked home from school every day. He always took her to school, and he always picked her up. Walking was just their thing. You had been anxiously waiting for Joel to announce their arrival because he had promised he wouldn’t say anything to her until you were all together, you wondered if he had kept up that bargain. “How was school?” You ask, watching Ellie hang up her jacket and then walk into the living room to flop onto the couch. “Some kid pushed another kid into a garbage can and a fight broke out.” Ellie explained, her lips pursing slightly and her brows raising. Joel frowned a little and you asked “Were you either of the kids in that story?” “I was not.”

You took Joel’s hand and sat down with him on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Babygirl,” he said, “we have somethin’ we need to tell you. Somethin’ important.” Ellie’s eyes darted between the two of you as she tried to figure out what was going on before either of you said anything, “I’m not leaving. Fuck off, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I like it here, I have friends!”  Ellie had fallen into the habit of calling him Dad, unless she was furious with him then he was always Joel. 

Joel reached out with both his hands and took hers, looking at her in a way that almost forced her to keep eye contact with him, “We ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re safe here, okay? We don’t leave.” He sits up a little and you look between the two of them, they are thick as thieves, they talk without words and there is so much that remains unspoken between them but they know. “Are you getting divorced?” Ellie asked, her chin dropping down into her chest and her eyes looking from you to Joel and back again rapidly. You open your mouth to correct her but decide against it. You and Joel weren’t married, not by any technicalities anyway; you talked about it once, it was always in passing, until one day you set a date with a priest and a chapel but the priest died and there wasn’t anyone else ordained to perform a wedding. That night Joel cooked chicken wings on a barbecue in the yard, you drank beer and sat and cuddled under the stars. You shared your vows, you exchanged rings that you had both made from scraps of metal from the junkyard. Joel had helped you with yours, he was so clever with tools, the ring he gave you was perfect and looked as if it could’ve come from a store; he scratched coordinates inside the band from the spot you had shared your first kiss - they could’ve been coordinates to a burnt out Wendy’s and you’d have been none the wiser, the thought was painfully romantic and you cried when he told you. Yours was a little jankier, but he didn’t mind that, he said it suited him. From that night on he always called you ‘the Missus’. You supposed in a broken world that was about as official as it was going to get. “How would you feel about bein’ a big sister?” Joel’s voice had softened slightly as he presented the question to Ellie. He didn’t know how she would react, she’d grown up in this pandemic, she navigated the world so much differently because of the situations she had been forced into and now they were safe in Jackson, Joel only wanted her to be a kid, catch up on the years she had missed. Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. “I’m pregnant.” the words leave your mouth so abruptly that it even catches you off guard, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud.  Suddenly it all feels real. The man you were playing house with by your side, the orphan you’d both somehow adopted as your own, in the middle of a war, your found family was about to grow by one more. Ellie giggled in her child-like way and fell back into the couch in a way that made Joel sit up defensively. “It’s difficult for me to believe that someone willingly reproduced with you.” Ellie teased. It’s clear that she thinks her leg is being pulled. “It was an accident, but you don’t need to be a dick about it.” You swatted Joel’s thigh, “Joel!” He turned to face you with an expression that was full of apologies “Obviously I didn’t mean it like that.” Ellie sat up again and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing a little as she looked at you with a calculated gaze, “Are you serious? Are you pregnant? For real?” Your eyes find hers, and your hands reach out to wrap around her own as you nod earnestly, hoping the message gets through. Joel reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt to show her the print out from the ultrasound, he points to the blip inside the hollows of your uterus and makes a sound that might’ve been him saying ‘there’ if he had opened his lips a little more. Ellie’s expression changes. You remember again that she’s experiencing a lot of things for the first time and this is the first ultrasound she’s seen, this is the first pregnancy she’s been this close to. “That’s a baby?” she asked, sounding utterly enchanted by it, unable to take her eyes off of it. “It’s so little.” “The nurse reckoned I’m about 7 weeks along,” you explain, “so in another 30 or so weeks it’ll be fully cooked.” “That’s a long time.” Ellie looked back at you, she sounded disappointed at the idea of having to wait so long to earn her role of big sister. “Trust me,” Joel added, “it’ll fly by.” Ellie’s eyes drifted back to the ultrasound, and Joel pushed it a little closer to her. She pulled her hands from yours and took the photo, bringing it up to her face for a closer inspection, “That’s so fuckin’ cool.” You and Joel both breathe out a sigh of relief in unison. That was all you had both wanted, Ellie’s approval. You were a family, and a team, you had to do everything together or it just didn’t work; you’d fought too hard to get to where you were. Joel put his hand on your thigh and his earlier promises that everything was going to be okay echoed in your mind. But then Ellie reminded you both of just how much of her education she had missed being in her situation and then traveling with Joel when she looked up from the photo and asked, “So when it is fully cooked, will the doctor have to cut it out of you?” Joel pulled a face and took a sharp inward breath as he patted your knee and pushed himself up off the coffee table, kissing your cheek on the way “That is all you, I am going to start dinner.”

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight - PART THREE

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (3/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1200 words  - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: Warning? for a cheeky finger bang and Joel being silly. Taglist 💜: @this--is--music @starkleila @finnsbubblegum @daddy-din

Joel assures you that nothing bad is going to happen. You’re starting to think Joel is full of shit.

PART ONE - PART TWO

You didn’t hear Joel come home. You were busy rearranging furniture in the spare bedroom that had once been a study and gradually in the 6 months of your pregnancy had become a nursery with the help of the people of Jackson. They came around with clothes, and toys outgrown, nothing like that ever got thrown away here; if it could be fixed, it was fixed, only if it was beyond repair did anything ever get tossed away but there was always someone who was good at fixing something.  You hadn’t seen your toes for a while, Ellie assured you they were still there. Your back was starting to hurt, Joel was pretty good at massages. As you shifted things around, you had on the soundtrack from Dirty Dancing. The movie seemed like a distant memory now, in light of everything it felt like it must’ve been a hundred years ago. Time moves differently in Jackson. You swayed to the beat of Eric Carmen singing about Hungry Eyes, hanging a mobile with plush moons and stars above the crib Joel had built, when suddenly the song changed. You heard Joel’s familiar humming over your shoulder and didn’t bother turning around, “Please don’t fuck with my music.” you ask him. “It’s your favorite.” He says, turning up the volume a little. He skipped ahead to Love Is Strange, your brain scrambles a little as he jumps the song forward then moves to hop up on the dresser. “What are you doing?” you ask, giggling softly. “Sylvia?” You don’t answer but Sylvia does ‘Yes, Mickey?’ Joel puts his hands on the edge of the dresser and leans forward a little way, “How do you call your lover boy?” he cups his good ear and waits for you to answer, you just blush and shake your head and let Sylvia take this one too ‘Come here, lover boy!’ Joel flicks his wrists a little in a ‘what gives?’ kind of way, he knows you’ll crack soon; “And if he doesn’t answer?” Your features drop and you smile through your bashful cheeks and play along with him, “Oh lover boy.” you sing-song to the music, your tone a little more sultry than that on the track. “And if he still doesn’t answer?” he beckoned you closer “I simply say… baby,” you let out a playful giggle as Joel plays the air guitar, “oh baby,” you move closer to him, he continues to strum the imaginary guitar to the beat between your words, “my sweet baby. You’re the one.” Joel slides down off the dresser, his hands immediately cradling your stomach at either side as you both sway a little to the music as it fades away. “You’re the sexiest thing I know,” Joel complimented, smiling down at you with that smile he reserved only for you. You scoff and put a hand on top of his. “I feel like a whale. My back hurts. He’s heavy.” “Oh she is, is she?” Joel teased and you swatted his arm. You had been arguing over the sex of your baby for the last two months, but the fact was neither of you cared so long as they were healthy and safe. “Do you wanna go sit down? Go on and sit down, I’ll bring you some water. Take a rest for a little while.” You put your hand on his chest and steal a kiss from his lips, thinking about how lucky you are to get to see this side of him. You cradle your stomach as you make your way across to the bedroom you shared with Joel, you kick off your slippers - although for some weeks now you haven’t been entirely sure of your own feet because you haven’t seen them, but Joel assures you they’re still there - then you meander over to the bed and perch on the edge of it. It’s an immediate relief to not have the weight of yourself bearing down on your ankles and your legs start to burn, you wonder how much longer you have to endure this but the thought of childbirth scares you. The thought of childbirth without a proper hospital scares you even more. Joel assures you that nothing bad is going to happen. You’re starting to think Joel is full of shit. He comes in, as promised, with a glass of water for you and you thank him quietly. Joel sets it down on the bedside table and sits the pillows up so he can sit up against them, his legs spread and his arms open and he makes a grunting sound that, since knowing him, you have learned means ‘come here’. You shuffle back on the bed and nestle between his legs, his arms fall around you like a rugged scarf as you back presses into his chest; one that smells of sawdust, leather and very faint undertones of gasoline. “What have you been doing today?” you ask him, curious about the gasoline smell more than anything. His hands dig into your hips in the most blissful way, his massaging motions making you close your eyes and sink into him, “I spent most of it helping the Goldbergs with their yard. Their lawn wanted mowing so I did that -” you smile, that explained the gasoline “ - then I built somethin’ to help Mrs. Goldberg get up an’ down better when she’s out tendin’ to her begonias.” “Oh begonias,” you chuckle, “that’s a pretty word to be comin’ out of your mouth Mr. Miller.” “B’gonias.” he repeated, his Southern drawl a little thicker. One of your legs lifts and bends slightly to rest on his,  parting your thighs a little as he continues to massage your thighs, moving under your rotund belly. “How have you been feeling today?” he asks, his hands move in a little to massage the joint from the inside, his fingers graze over your pubic bone and unintentionally tug at the muscles in your crotch and you start to feel a tingle that has you subconsciously parting your legs a little more. You wonder if he knows what he’s doing or if it’s accidental. “Pregnant.” you answer on a chuckle, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Joel kissed your temple, his facial hair tickling just slightly, “The last bit will fly by… They’ll be here before we know it.” One of his hands moved between your thighs and brushed lightly over your sex through the fabric of the leggings and panties you were wearing but quickly wished you weren’t. He buried his face into your neck and kissed it slowly, his lips sucked and his tongue followed to soothe where he had marked. Between your legs, that hand followed a similar massaging pattern as it had shown to your hips, his free hand slipped under your shirt - which was actually Joel’s shirt because none of your own felt comfortable anymore - and his hand found your breast and he cupped it with a delicate touch. He had been so gentle with you since you had fallen pregnant, your body was changing, it was more sensitive than it had ever been and he followed your lead at all times. He listened when you said more, he listened when you told him no. You had never felt so safe.

 Hushed moans tumble from your parted lips as he warms up your body for more of him, arousal pools in your underwear and your legs spread even more for him. You push back into him as your thumbs hook into the waistband of your lower garments, you make a quick adjustment of your body and push your hips up using Joel as leverage, and push the clothes down as far as you are able then kick them off the rest of the way before resuming your original position. Joel’s hand is quick to return to your core, a hum vibrates against your ear from him when he feels how wet you are for him. Thick fingers slide between your folds with ease in languid forward and back strokes, each backstroke he catches your clit against the pad of his finger and it coaxes a moan out of you. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” he whispers in your ear. You know he doesn’t want dirty talk, he wants consent. He wants to know how far he can take it, because he���s been nothing but attentive to your needs throughout. “This.” you breathe out, “I just want you to play with me like this…” “Can I put my fingers inside you, kitten?” The fact he cares enough to ask turns you on even more. Joel’s protective side is lethal. You consider his question as all coherency slowly leaves your body as he continues his ministrations, then you shake your head softly. “Are y’okay with me touchin’ your breasts like this?” You nod your head gently, “Just don’t squeeze.” Joel kisses your jaw tenderly as a silent sign that his line of questioning is over. You hear his fingers moving over your slick labia and your whole body tingles as he knows just how to make you weak. His digits begin to move in circular motions, he’s hitting every nerve ending you have down there and it has your toes curling and your fingers gripping at his thighs. He kisses your neck again in the same way he did before and your head falls away from him like a ragdoll to give him the room to do so. This is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while. His fingers move up to concentrate on your throbbing clit, pushing through your delicate folds to expose it from its hood with his index and ring finger spreading you apart, and then rubbing it with his middle finger. He started with slow circles, but he kept one eye on your body and his good ear on the sound of your breathing as it picked up the closer you came to your release. The pace he had set had you teetering on the edge, and it was excruciating, your hips pushed and rolled into his hand in a desperate attempt to get more from him and one of your hands reached back to grab at his hair, “Joel!” you cried out, “Joel please. Please, I need to cum! Please… Please…” he heard your first plea and he increased his pace, his two middle fingers rubbing quickly over the bundle of nerves slick with your arousal. Your moans came in short, sharp bursts on every breath. Suddenly you squeezed your eyes shut and the pressure valve was released and your orgasm finally came to you, coursing through your veins and making you see stars behind your eyelids, your muscles clench around the air, and you moan loudly and chant his name as you pull at his hair.

 He allows you the space to come down, and you wait until you’re sure it’s completely passed before you let him go and you melt in his arms, unable to move. Joel brings his fingers up to his lips and sucks them clean before wrapping both his arms around you and peppering kisses over the side of your face. “I hope your son doesn’t judge us too much for the things we do while he’s in utero.” You tease, trying to catch your breath. Joel shakes his head and presses his temple to yours, “I don’t think the brain is developed enough to form memories. And he won’t. Because I have no son. It’s a girl.”

[babydin]

How abt joel and f reader get into a fight and then after 1-2 days joel shows up at the readers door late at night drunk telling how much he wants and miss her soo like hot make out smut 😏

- Joel Miller X AFAB Reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Drinking implied, oral (f receiving and m receiving), unprotected piv, nipple play, fingering, f on top, soft dominance - 2050 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open!

“You know one of these days Joel Miller, your miserable life is going to swallow you whole.”

Read this one on AO3 because tumblr wouldn't let me post it.

[babydin]

Her

Joel remembers when he was the guy who shot and missed. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Grief, depression, death, child loss, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt - 1242 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: A recounting of the events after Sarah's death and Joel's suicide attempt from Joel's POV. Written in first person. You are 'her'.

 People act like they know what you’re going through, they think they know how it feels because they have known grief, but the difference in losing your grandma and losing your child is mighty. To be a parent without a child is fucking harrowing. 

They think I don’t hear them.   The ‘what’s his problem?’ followed by the ‘he just lost his daughter’ and the sorrowful grumbles that follow. I don’t want pity, I want Sarah. I want to close my eyes at night and not be reminded of the pain in her eyes as she looked up at me so desperately, begging me to do something and I did nothing. I did nothing. Tommy told me she was gone and I wailed and screamed so fucking loud that I hoped she’d hear me on her way to heaven and turn around and come back to me. People ask me how I’m doing with so much fucking pity it makes me sick, and I lie through my teeth and tell them I’m fine because I don’t have the energy to tell some motherfucker I barely know ‘I set a place for her at the table yesterday and when I realized she ain’t sittin’ at it I wanted to put my head in the oven’, ‘I haven’t been doing so well’, ‘My babygirl died in my arms how do you think I’m fucking doing?’ People act like they know what you’re going through, they think they know how it feels because they have known grief, but the difference in losing your grandma and losing your child is mighty. To be a parent without a child is fucking harrowing.  And there is nothing more kick-you-in-the-nuts offensive than thinkin’ you know what’s best for someone. I wish I could say some days are better than others but they’re all bad days. I didn’t mean to snap at her, but she sure as shit means to snap back when she says “I lost her too, Joel”.  I wake up every morning and the weight of another day is heavy on my chest and I ask whatever powers keep this rock spinning, why it was Sarah’s time and not mine, whatever situation we’re in these days seems to be getting worse and I wonder why I’m even fighting.  What exactly is it that’s keeping me alive? She tries her best with me, I know she does and I can see how much I hurt her. I try and be tough but some days it’s too fucking much. She finds me sitting in bathtubs of water that I allowed to go cold because I cried out all my energy and can’t pull myself out of it, she holds me through my bad dreams, she makes up bullshit about how Sarah will always be with me, or she’s got her Mama takin’ care of her now. 

    I listen, and nod, and try and force a smile like what she’s saying is balm but every breath I take burns in my lungs because my heart is fucking shattered. One day I wake up and the pain cuts through me like a knife. I’m aware of every single bone, and every single muscle in my body because there is an enormous weight crushing every inch of me. I eat breakfast and I consider putting rocks in my pockets and walking out into the ocean, but I don’t want to suffer. I’ve suffered enough, my pain has gone on long enough,  if I’m going to die I want it to be quick. I don’t remember if I woke up with a specific goal of ending my life but by 11am I had no intention of living until dinner.   I decided I was going to do it in the bathtub; thinking about the clean up maybe? Blood, I’d learned, was a fucking persistent stain. Suddenly the pain went away and I loaded a single bullet into my pistol and I didn’t feel a drop of fear. I was ready. A comforting hug, a hot coffee on a cold day, a cold tea on a hot day; Lady Death would’ve been very much welcomed. I thought about her bullshit, her bullshit about Sarah being with her Mama now and wondered if I was on my way to them too. My heart was poundin’ as I put that barrel to my temple but I wasn’t scared, I was so ready. I cocked it and took my last breath and I don’t know why. Then came her voice as I squeezed the trigger,   “JOEL!” They say right before you die your life flashes before your eyes. And I always thought it was a fucking cliche but hearing that shrill, squawk of my name, it really did. I remember the day I got married, I remember the day Sarah was born, when she took her first steps, the first time she spit up in my mouth, I remember the day I had to tell her that her mother died and how it was just us for so long. Then I remember her, and how she had only wanted Sarah to like her, how she had loved her like she was her own but never wanted to erase her mother’s memory, how she had cried with me when I had to tell her what happened to her, how she finished her eulogy because I couldn’t, all those nights she’d cried with me, been there for me, force fed me, made me drink water instead of booze. It was her. She was the thing keeping me alive, against my will it felt like sometimes, but she needed me just as much as I needed her.  The realization makes me flinch, she screams and pain still sears through my head and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done it. She races to my side and climbs into the empty tub with me, there’s a pain and a fear in her eye that forces an apology out of me almost instantly as she pulls my head off the tiled wall and applies pressure to the part of my head that hurts the most. I can see her lips moving but I don’t hear a thing she’s saying because there’s a ringing in my ears so loud. It takes her pushing me into her chest to realize there’s blood dripping down the side of my face and the ringing subsides just enough for me to hear her beg me not to leave her. All I can do is whisper apologies, the pain has subsided and I don’t feel a thing, my fingers cling to her; I silently beg for her help, I hope that somewhere through her wailing she can hear my heart beating like a frightened steer, she pleads with me again not to go anywhere and I can’t find the words to ask her the same but I hope she hears it somehow.

  I must’ve blacked out for a hot minute because I opened my eyes and she’s putting bactine on my head. The feeling comes back. Whoever invented bactine can go all the way to hell. I apologize again and she tells me it’s okay but in such a way that I know it’s not okay at all but she puts steri-strips on the gash in my head and for a second I might actually believe that eventually it will be because this is where she’s always been. Holding me through my nightmares and being my guiding light on the other side. My reason for waking up in the morning, for fighting, for living to see the other side of whatever shit show is going on with the world right now. It’s her.

[babydin]

Joel: Excuse me? Hi, I lost my kid, can I make an announcement? Store employee: Of course! Joel: Thank you so much Joel, over the PA: Goodbye you little shit. Ellie, wandering the aisles looking for Joel: Oh.

[babydin]

Can I have a fic written base on this song (the big moon - wide eyes) I think it be good as a Joel miller or may be just Pedro?

(I never ask for any before so I hope I did right)

https://youtu.be/EY2RaPeI18A

Joel turned around to face you again; he hadn’t heard you moving closer to him and the way you were right in his face made him take a step back. He looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before

- Joel Miller x reader (no pronouns or gendered pet names) - 18+, minors DNI (fairly PG though) - Mild violence and lots of cursing - 885 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I dont know why, this is the first thing that came to mind when I heard the song! I hope you like it. Thank you for your request!!

You can feel his eyes on you as you chop hunks of wood for a fire. You half expect him to walk over and tell you that you’re doing it wrong somehow; he’s such a grumpy piece of shit and you don’t know how you wound up at the end of the world with someone so unpleasant. You wipe your brow and look up at him and he immediately looks away like he doesn’t want to be caught staring and continues loading his rifle. Later that night around the fire you eat beans out of a tin bowl and you feel his eyes on you again. The problem is he doesn’t talk much, but usually if he had a problem he’d let you know. Your eyes flick up and his glance down at the same time, your head shakes and you roll your eyes. When the fire dies down you both slip inside the tent, and inside the two-man sleeping bag and try to sleep back-to-back. You wake up to scratching on the tent door, then the zip hastily starts to open with a struggle. You open your eyes and distinctly feel Joel’s warm body still pressed up against you. Your body fights to sit up against the sleeping bag, bloodied fingers pry inside the tent and the figure of a body with a head like a bouquet of flora is cast from the dawn sun onto the tent from the outside. “Joel!” you yell his name, knowing he is hard of hearing, and with him being dead weight beside you, you’re struggling to move inside the sleeping bag. Joel opens his eyes, he sees the shadow before he sees you and he doesn’t have time to brush the sleep from his face. He kicks you both out of the sleeping bag with booted feet and grabs his knife from a holster on his belt and he slices straight through the fabric of the tent, pushing you out first before tearing out behind you. You know you should be quiet, but you yell and pick up a sizable branch to defend yourself with as the infected tumbles towards you. It flinches and lets out a blood-curdling wail as Joel shoots at it and catches it in the shoulder, cursing under his breath like that wasn’t what he was aiming for. “Run!” Joel orders you. “The knife!” You bark back. He had revoked your gun privileges after you had almost shot him in the foot in a blind panic the last time you had run into an infected. This one was getting closer to Joel and his hands were unsteady. “Just go, get back to Tommy.” “Your knife, Joel! Joel!!” He tossed it across the ground and you immediately bent to catch it as it slid past you, keeping your eyes fixed on the infected as it got closer to Joel. You take the blade by it’s handle and drive the pointy end directly into the top of the monster’s head with a scream. It halts and buys Joel enough time to shoot at it again, this time he doesn’t miss.  The both of you pant and look at each other with wide eyes, full of adrenaline and panic all at once. “That was dumb.” Joel scolded, moving from his spot to gather what he could from the camp so you could start moving. “What the fuck is your problem?” You snap breathlessly, “You’ve been shitty with me for three fuckin’ days, your tone is weird–” “It’s just my voice.” “--- you keep staring at me.” “I don’t stare.” “You’re staring at me, Joel.”

Joel turned around to face you again; he hadn’t heard you moving closer to him and the way you were right in his face made him take a step back. He looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before, with a humility you’d never seen from him before. He looked at you and he bunched your shirt in his fist and before you could say anything else he tugged you towards him and planted your lips on his. It didn’t feel like a ‘we just survived a thing’ kiss, it felt like an ‘I’ve been waiting a long time to do this’ kiss; you had never thought about Joel’s lips, but if you did you would’ve imagined them to be rough, and slightly dry, you’d have expected his unshaved face to be prickly and uncomfortable but his lips were smooth and his facial hair was soft. He kissed you like you were the only thing he was surviving for, and truth be told that was a lot of pressure but neither of you had much else besides each other.

When he pulled away to take a breath he did something else you’d never seen him do before… he smiled. “Holy shit, is that– is that a smile?” “Shut the fuck up.” he stepped away and let out a soft laugh, the smile brightening a little but he ducked his head to try and hide the fact. “Oh, and you have teeth?” you teased, “Well fuck, Joel.”

You didn’t want to tease him any more than you already had, but he was a lot more chatty the rest of the journey, and truthfully you were thankful for the company.

[babydin]

Conservation

Joel is a tough nut to crack and every so often he will show a side to him he keeps well guarded. A side that's tender, gentle, and ever so slightly playful (in his own way, at least). - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Bathtub lovin, soft dominance, oral, fingering, some dirty talkin', pet names. - 1843 words -Comments/likes appreciated

"You're a pussycat, Joel Miller."

What a blessing. What a fucking blessing. 

  The water wasn’t just warm, it was hot. Almost too hot but you didn’t care, you didn’t know when the next time you were going to get the opportunity to take a bath again was going to be. Showers were few and far between as you traveled with Joel, you had to settle for bathing in freezing cold brooks with whatever scraps of soap you had scavenged from the last camp you’d come across and dare not think about what happened to the people who were no longer in it but this was a bath. A real bath, with hot water and bubbles and a door that closed. You sank down into the water and allowed the gentle waves to envelope your body, suds barely covering your breasts and tickling the hair on the back of your neck. There was a visible line across your thigh where the heat of the water had forced all the blood to the surface.  A smile spread across your lips as your legs stretched out of the water, enjoying this moment of calm in the midst of it all.   Your hands moved to cover your modesty and you turned and pressed yourself into the edge of the tub as the door started to open, but you soon relaxed when you saw Joel’s rugged features. He had a permanent crease in his brow like he was always mad at the world, he had clearly made some attempt at taming his curls, and he wasn’t we wasn’t wearing a shirt, his chest bare and marred by a few bruises and wispy hairs, his jeans and belt unbuckled. You rested your chin on the edge of the bath and smiled “Did you find anything good?” you ask sweetly.

“Just you.” He grumbles in response and you feel yourself blush. You’ve shared many intimate moments, but he’s still so rough around the edges, but when he knows it’s just the two of you, and nobody else can intrude, those edges become so soft and he shows you how he was before the world ripped him apart. Joel pushed down his jeans and underwear and you sank down a little to hide your bashful smile behind the wall of the tub and when he starts coming towards you, you giggle and push yourself away, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Conservin’ water.” Joel replied bluntly as he began to climb into the bath with you, forcing you to hug your knees up to your chest. Once he was settled he took hold of your ankles and pulled you down the bath until you were between his thighs with your legs wrapped around him, his hands spread across your back. Your hands immediately cupped his jaw, fingers toying with the hair at his temples. He instinctively leaned away as you grazed over the scar at his hairline, but you exchanged a glance and spoke without words and he heard you clearly and relaxed against your touch. “How long do you think we could stay here?” Joel takes a deep breath in, calloused fingers follow the curvature of your ribs before disappearing down under the water to settle under your thighs, “‘Til the water gets cold.” You press a kiss to his lips and smile, “I meant in this house.” You knew Joel didn’t like to be in one place for very long, he liked to be moving, to be still was to be a target he said. His hands moved again, back out of the water and exploring your abdomen with a calculated touch, he could read your body like he could read a map, he knew every curve and every dimple, he handled every part of you that you wanted to change like it was his favorite thing about you. “Joel?” He ran a finger down your breastbone, leaving a glistening line of water in its wake. The way he looked at you made your heart race. Out there he barely did, not like this, god forbid anyone should know that Joel Miller had a heart in that broad chest of his. In private he was soft, he was intimate, he knew how to drive you wild, he made you feel safe. A grin crept over your face, “Joel?” “I’m thinkin’.”  His fingers moved over the soft pillows of your breasts, his thumb rolled over your nipple and it pebbled almost instantly beneath his touch. The way this man got to you was dangerous. Joel lifted his knees a little to raise you up and your fingers thread into his hair for stability, his lips kissed the tender skin of your breast until his restless tongue lapped wetly over your hardened nipple, making you moan softly and lean into him as your fingers tugged at his hair. Joel’s lips sucked at your nipple, his teeth dug hungrily into the soft flesh surrounding it and he sucked hard enough to leave his marks on you. You’d find them for the next week or two, notice how they change color as they get worse and then heal and smile at the thought that you are his and he wants you to know it. His name leaves your lips and a fire ignites within him, he makes quick work of hooking his hands beneath you and lifting you up, adjusting his own position as he places you delicately on the corner edge of the bathtub, and before you had time to acknowledge the cold tile on your rear, Joel’s lips were on your labia, tasting you and the soapy water from the bathtub, the glorious mixture of his soft lips combined with his bristly facial hair sent all of your senses into overdrive. With one hand he guided your leg over his shoulder, and with the other he used two fingers to spread you open, exposing more of you to him. 

  “You’re so fucking pretty, darlin’.” he said gruffly, in such a way it made your eyes roll back in your head and your head fall against the wall, as his fingers stroked over your sex, squeezing your clit between his index and middle fingers. “How am I supposed to resist you all naked and sudsed up in a bathtub?” His tongue made its way to you and your fingers curled into his hair, a moan leaving your lips that ended with his name. He was so skilled, he always knew when to increase the pressure, when to ease up, when to introduce his fingers, when to use his lips, and as your body dried of bath water, your cunt got wetter under Joel’s skilled mouth and he licked you like a dinner plate after a good meal. He tucked his free hand under his chin and teased your soaked entrance with his fingers just for a moment before he slid two fingers into you slowly. Joel was good with his mouth, Joel was good with his hands, his fingers did things to you that had you seeing stars and while nothing compared to his cock, he had the fingers of a guitar player and sometimes he played you like one. “Joel– God–” you gasp as he finds that pleasure zone inside you; you don’t remember anyone before him ever managing to, but Joel knew the rumors were true. He pulls away to look at you, his lips swollen, his mustache glistening with your arousal and his own saliva, his eyes are so greedy and you know he has a taste for you now, he won't stop until you’re begging him to, until the faintest breath of air on your clit will send you spiraling into another orgasm. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he sits up a little so he can kiss your lips, you taste yourself on him but you don’t care because it’s his lips you’re kissing.  “It’s been a long day,  you deserve to feel good darlin’.” You moan and dig your fingers into his shoulders as he talks you closer to your release, his lips moving over your breasts again adding to the pressure building in the pit of your stomach as his fingers fuck into you, pushing against that sensitive spot with each stroke, “Yes, please. Please, Daddy make me cum-” you beg, your hips rocking as best as they could against his fingers. “Don’t worry darlin’ I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He promises, and you’re relieved that he’s not playing that game right now, as his lips begin drifting back down towards your aching clit as he begins to once again tease his tongue over it, and once again you become familiar with the stars as the pleasure bubbles up inside you and moans tumble from your mouth. He sucks on your labia, laps at your clit, his jaw aches but he does not complain, his fingers expertly guide you closer until you can no longer contain yourself. The pressure building inside you explodes as a string of moans that almost resemble screams, his name repeated like a prayer and echoing from the tiled walls, your thighs clamped around his head and the walls of your cunt pulsate around his fingers as you soak his fingers with slick, clear juices. Your fingers claw at his scalp and grab at handfuls of his salt and pepper hair, one of them seeming to need to pull him closer, the other trying to push him away as his ministrations had your whole body trembling while your orgasm set your body ablaze. All you knew, all you could think, all you could feel, was Joel.

When the aftershocks subsided, your body becomes limp, your grip on him loosens and his hold on you lets up. You watch him clean his fingers through heavily lidded eyes before he pulls you back off the edge of the bath and back into the water into his lap, you’re not surprised to find his cock is at half-mast but it still makes you blush a little, and your whole mouth fills with saliva at the sight of his girth. “You didn’t answer my question.” you remind him breathlessly, drawing your finger down his chest. Joel plucks a dried up bar of soap from the edge of the bath that you had brought in with you and dunked it under the water to try and revive it, rubbing it between his hands to lather it up before he tenderly smothered the suds over your arms, planting a kiss on the palm of your hand “We’ll go when we’ve rested, when we’ve eaten…when we’ve fucked.” a smile crept across his lips at the last part. “Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily just the once.” “You’re a pussy cat, Joel Miller.” His upper lip curled and he mewled from deep within his throat in such a casual manner that it almost felt involuntary. He trusted you. As rough and tough as he acted around other people, he was soft in the middle and he trusted you enough to show it.

[babydin]

Joel: Look, okay? I get it. You had a really bad day, you're stressed out, 7 people died- Ellie: 21 people! Joel: Not the point. Look, they're dead now. And really? Whose fault is that? Ellie: Yours! Joel: That's right. No ones.

[babydin]

I do believe this is absolutely what Joel would look like in my One for Sorrow fic. When he's had some fucking sleep obviously

[babydin]

- Joel Miller X AFAB partner - 18+, minors DNI! - Joel's POV. - Child death implied, depressive thoughts of a middle aged grump, no smut just fluff, but implies that it leads there so consume at your own risk. - 627 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - Joel doesn't want to celebrate his birthday, until the thought of unwrapping you changes his mind. - A/N: Wrote this to celebrate Joel's birthday. Happy birthday you piece of shit. I love writing in Joel's POV, so I would love more requests for this. Or even Javi G as a challenge!

Now, I was minding my very own business and I was going to continue to do so until the day was well and truly over but the promise of pancakes did put me in quite a predicament.

The sound cuts through me like a knife. Having one good ear meant the sounds I fucking hate are even harsher and make my brain itchy. It must be the ass-crack of dawn and she always fucking does this. She knows I don’t like making a big song-and-dance on my birthday, my birthday was the day the outbreak reached critical mass and here we are still fighting off shit-faced zombie motherfuckers and trying to rebuild civilization, not knowing if life will ever be the same again. It’s also Sarah’s remembrance day. I’d give all of my birthdays to have her back just for an hour.   And yet here she is, with one of those noise blowers that I swear I throw out every goddamn year, and a scratchy vinyl of the Beatles singing about how it’s my birthday, and I take one pillow and launch it at her while the other comes up over my head and I hope if I stay there long enough she’ll get the hint that I ain’t playing. “Happy birthday, Mr Miller.” Is it? What’s happy about it? The world is in ruins, and I’m another year older and it’s completely against my will at this point. “I made you blueberry pancakes.” Now, I was minding my very own business and I was going to continue to do so until the day was well and truly over but the promise of pancakes did put me in quite a predicament. I hated my birthday, I hated the fuss, I hated getting older, I hated missing Sarah, unfortunately for me though, I liked blueberry pancakes. I liked blueberry pancakes quite a lot.  I force my eyes open and she’s smilin’ down at me with that goddamn noise maker in one hand and a plate of blueberry pancakes in the other, dripping with maple syrup, her hair scraped back into a messy bun, her pyjamas all askew but I’ll be a son of a gun if she ain’t worth livin’ for. “You turn that shit off?” The Beatles aren’t bad, I just don’t want Paul McCartney squawkin’ at me and reminding me every second that it’s my birthday. “You’ll sit up for blueberry pancakes but not for me?” I’d do a lot more than sit up for her. ”Ellie awake?” She shakes her head and there’s a twinkle in her eye as she hands me the plate of pancakes, “No, why? You want your present?” I don’t like to be presumptuous, I ain’t never expecting shit on my day but the way those words come out of that pretty mouth I can’t help but wonder if – “What is it?” Sometimes my sweet thing runs her fingers through my hair in a way that really feels like it goes deep down into the creases of my brain, and I’m telling you now if I were a dog, my hind leg would be crankin’ like I was tryin’ to start a motorcycle. “That’s the point of a present,” she tells me, “you have to unwrap it.” That girl of mine stands by the side of the bed like she’s waiting on me to do something, and as usual I do the wrong thing and take a bite of the pancakes because the blueberries smell good and the syrup is making my mouth water but she smiles like she finds my idiocy endearing and I thank god she does because someone’s gotta. “Are you– are you my present?” She climbs in my lap and although I try and protect my plate of blueberry pancakes (if she expects me to share, she can whistle. It is my birthday after all) my day just got a little bit better. “Yes, Joel. I am your present. Happy birthday, you grumpy fuck.”