#padro pascal

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Pink and white balloons tied to mailboxes and fences of the cul-de-sac.

"Happy birthday to you." Everyone in the neighborhood sings.

The two brothers descend the steps of the home to the picnic table out front. Joel leading with Tommy following close behind with a camcorder in hand. Joel places a tower of cupcakes onto the table lighting one cupcake with a candle.

Sarah bounces excitedly in Y/N's lap at the head of the table.

"Happy birthday, dear Sarah!"

"Happy birthday to you!"

"Blow out the candle." Y/N kisses her child's curly head of brown hair. She looks to her mama then back to the candle. Opening her mouth wide, taking in a deep, dramatic breath before blowing a wet raspberry onto the flame. Fortunately this does the job.

 Everyone cheers and claps. Conversing with one another, enjoying the cupcakes or burgers and hotdogs Mr. Adler prepared on his grill.

Sarah grabs a fistful of pink frosting shoving it into her mouth, in the process smearing it all over her face. Taking another handful smearing pink frosting across her mama's cheek. Y/N doesn't mind, she grins down at the child who giggles at her work.

"What about pop pop, Sarah bean." Tommy instigates camera ready as Joel takes a seat next to his girls.

Sucking on her fingers looking up to her uncle Tommy at the call of her name. Looking at her dad who makes faces at her.

"Pop pop wants some birthday cake." He points to his brother. She squeals, giving a two tooth grin. Wiping her frosting and spit covered hand across Joel's face.

"Yay!" Everyone cheers.

"How are you feeling?" He mumbles into her cheek, seen to others as him just being affectionate.

"A little tired." She shrugs avoiding his eyes.

"Cake!" Sarah shrieks, holding up a handful of cake.

"That's right." Y/N coos clapping as the child copies the gesture with glee.

                         ~•~

Cleaning up the yard by the light of street lamps. Collecting party hats and paper plates that littered the grass into trash bags in hand.

Tommy groans, reaching down to pick up the thirtieth plate. Twisting his body left and right with a wince. "Man, I'm tired."

Joel scoffs. "Wait till you have a kid." He advises. "Then you'll truly know what it means to be tired."

"Boys!" Catches their attention. "It's getting late." Y/N informs. "Do we need to prepare the couch, Tommy?"

"I'm alright, Y/N. Kiss Sarah goodnight for me."

"I will. Get home safe." She waves stepping back inside.

"Y/N looks good." He says looking to his brother busying himself with knotting the trash bag. "Treatments must be going well." 

"She decided---to uhhh…." Joel struggles to say. "We decided to---uhhh---stop…" He swallows. "Stop the treatment."

"Oh." Was all Tommy could say. "I'm here for you bro, and the girls." he assures.

"I know." He nods, clearing his throat. "C'mon. Need to put these in the bins."

                         ~•~

Joel exhales a breath rolling his stiff neck and shoulders when entering his and Y/N's bedroom. Spending the past few hours putting away the many toys and clothes Sarah was gifted. The sound of a running faucet grabs his attention. Turning to see Y/N in the bathroom taking off the wig she had been wearing that day.

Her H/C short with patches littering her scalp. Leaning into the mirror, turning her head, tracing them with her fingers. Ruffling through drawers on his side of the bathroom. The buzzing of clippers sound and without hesitation shaving the front of her head. 

He makes his way to the doorway. Silently watching her e/c eyes taking note of his presence. He watches the many scars in various states of healing become visible from the numerous surgeries that promised results.

Struggling with the chord to reach behind. He stands behind her taking his clippers into his hand helping her with the back. Rounding her ears and base of her neck. Finishing his work turning the clippers off.

 She exhales, her shoulders releasing tension. Running her hands over her head, closing her eyes.

 The clippers turning back on startles her. Looking to the mirror catching Joel running the clippers straight down his head of curls. She gasps, eyes wide holding her hands over her mouth.

He smiles continuing to lop off his hair. As tears welled up in her eyes. Now her turn, she takes the clippers helping him with the back.

"So handsome." She gushes, running her hands over his head.

"You pull it off better, mama." Giving her a passionate kiss. She swoons.

"Wait here." Taking the baby monitor from their bedroom into the bathroom turning the volume up. "We never got to have mommy daddy time." She whispers.

 "Can't have that."

"No, we can not." She agrees. Placing the monitor on the sink.

 "If you're not feeling up to it. At any moment--"

"I'll let you know." She shimmies off her panties. Stepping out of them her flowery sundress is his only obstacle. Turning the shower on she turns peeking over her shoulder with sultry eyes. "Unzip me."

He does so. Tracing his finger down her spine making her shutter. She turns, gathering the hem of his shirt, lifting it up, placing hot kisses to his broad chest. 

Stripped bare, stepping into the hot water breathing in the steam. Suddenly feeling bashful she tries to hide herself, but he unwrapped her arms from her chest with the scars from many entry points from chemo. He traces them with his thumb looking at her wrists where more marks are laid. He places a kiss on them. His hands ghosted around her in an embrace. Thumb skimming her shoulder blades. Anchoring herself by his shoulders to lower him to her level, capturing his lips. There was tension in his muscles and a stiffness she wasn't used to. His hands almost cradling her. "I'm not fine china." She reminds.

He stifles a chuckle giving a nod. The water coasting along his brows. "Tough as nails." He smiles. She hasn't seen him smile without a sadness behind his eyes since her diagnosis.

"So treat me as such." She purrs, digging her nails into his back. He groans, watching his slack jawed expression as she drags all the way to his hips. A thrill stirs within her seeing she had succeeded in awaking the lust within.

His hold of her tightens, pulling a gasp from her throat as he spins her 'round, pinning her to the wet linoleum. She grins, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. Breath hitches in her throat, his hand interlocking with her own. "Right there!" She breathes. "Oh, Joel." She moans the knot in her stomach tightening. With her heart drumming in her ears the rhythmic thrusts of her love. His hips stalls as he groans grow deeper.

"Almost there." He moans. "Oh, Y/N."

She lets out a shuttery whine. "Slower." She urges wanting the moment to last.

"Oh---J-Joel." Her back is arching. He grunts burying his face onto her neck, hot breath fanning her neck. Letting out a long moan as she squeals. Her legs buckle as he wraps his arms around her waist as she leans into him chuckling.

"Still with me?" He coos.

 "Mmm." she hums. "This tops when we christened the house." Mouth now flooding with the taste of copper.

 "Nothing beats our wedding night." He chuckles, guiding the both of them under the stream of the shower head. "To be young again."

"God knows how we didn't have Sarah sooner."

Author's Note: I did not except so many readers and love for my little one shot idea. I decided to change the title hopefully there is no confusion to "Mrs. Miller" an idea that blossomed into my own story using context clues from the games and show of what happened to Sarah's Mother.

(Hopefully the tag list worked. It's my first time doing one. Please let me know.)

Series chapter order:

Mrs. Miller

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 2

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 3

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 4

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 5

Last of us Masterlist

Masterlist, Imagines, and Miscellaneous Drabbles

Tag list:

@impala1967666

@minaxcarter

@blairfox04

@pedr0swh0r3

After a bumpy landing, you picked up the Child and followed Din out of the ship. Din introducing you to his two friends, Cara and Greef Karga. You smiled warmly as Cara clapped you on the back, welcoming you to the city she kept safe.

“Have you eaten?” Cara asked you, but her focus was on the child, a finger reaching over you to stroke the hairs on the top of his green head.

“Yeah, but I could do with a drink,” you replied. You held the child up towards her to hold, but she shook her head.

“I don’t hold children,” Cara chuckled, “let’s go to the cantina, get drinks, catch up,” she suggested.

“Talking of cantinas,” the tinny voice of Din interrupted, “is the school still here?”

“Ah yes, of course it is. We will get the child in on a class whilst we’re drinking,” Karga said, leading the way towards the school. 

When you stepped inside the door, you saw a droid up front giving a history lesson, pointing at diagrams on the board. There were around twenty children sitting quietly at small tables, concentrating on their lesson too much to notice the new arrivals. 

It looked normal compared to the adventures you went on in the Razor Crest. Travelling from planet to planet, getting into fights, shooting at Imperial ships all made you forget that ordinary life went on living in these small corners of the universe. 

You turned to Din whose helmet was already facing you, wishing you could gage his reaction. You hadn’t been with him long enough to know the small reactions, gestures, flinches, that gave away his true feelings. He nodded to an empty table near the front of the room, assuring you that he was happy to leave the Child here. 

“We won’t be long, will we?” You asked, hesitant to be separated for too long. 

“No, we won’t,” Din assured you.

You moved through the tables, the children turning to look at you in a mixture of confusion and intrigue at the tiny bundle you held in your arms. Placing the Child at the empty table, you gave him a smile that told him he would be safe. He didn’t so much as look in your direction when you began to walk away, clearly comfortable to be left in this room. You made sure to stroke his ear as you left though.

-

It was around two hours later when you began to get anxious about leaving the Child. Cara was on the other side of the room challenging an enormous man with hands the size of your head to an arm wrestle. You didn’t particularly want to stick around to hear bones break, even though you had your suspicions it wouldn’t be Cara’s bones breaking. 

Greef Karga was recalling the last time Din had landed on Nevarro, just before you had joined Din and the Child. When Karga got up to get another drink from the bar, you softly poked Din between the gaps in the beskar on his arm.

“We should get back to the Child,” you suggested, downing the remaining dregs of your drink. 

“You worry about him too much,” Din grumbled, although you suspected he wasn’t really chastising you.

“You don’t worry enough,” you retorted, remembering the many times Din had allowed the Child to wander into all sorts of trouble in his ship. Din chuckled, the sound reverberating through your chest, warm and surprising as he didn’t laugh often. 

“Fine, we will go-“ Din was interrupted by the sound of high pitched screams and tiny feet stampeding into the cantina, followed by the horrified shouts of the owner trying to shoo them back out.

“Excuse me,” one boy ran over towards you, paying no mind to the Mandalorian next to you who usually scared people away, “come quick, your child needs you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Din was pushing the table out of his way and running out of the cantina. You could hardly keep up, but the thought of the Child being injured or, maker forbid, kidnapped was making you move faster. 

Din’s hulking frame and frantic jogging created a pathway for the both of you, people jumping out of his way, not wanting to get on the receiving end of an angry Mandalorian. As you reached the school, you saw the children that had been taking a lesson a couple of hours ago were huddled around what you could only assume was the Child. 

When you finally got to the crowd you gasped when you saw what was going on. 

The Child was sat on the floor with three other children, all of which had crumbs of various colors around their mouths and handfuls of brightly colored cookies that they were ramming into their mouths as though they were starved. The Child was the only one who had thrown up the contents of his stomach. 

You tried not to laugh when Din let out an exasperated sigh and reached down to pick him up, but it erupted out of you before you could stop it. The Child looked so innocent, and you were just relieved nothing bad had happened.

Din slowly turned to you, shaking his head at your antics.

“I don’t mean to laugh,” you said between giggles, “but come on, it’s adorable.”