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babydin · 1 year

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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.

#( requests: joel miller )#( requests: babydin )#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #( joel miller: babydin )

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babydin · 1 year

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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 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.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #( requests: babydin )#( requests: joel miller )#( joel miller: babydin )

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