#line cook joel au

[chloeangelic]

Line cook Joel origin story drabble

Here’s what I think line cook Joel’s origin story is, some info about him and Sarah, his general personality and interests, relationship history etc that might explain what he’s like in my series Belong to me

This is my most self indulgent series and Joel iteration, be warned lmao

Warnings: SPOILERS for ch 1-3, mentions of child abandonment

Word count: 1.2k

Joel is 40 in this AU, and I feel like it takes place in 2005ish, which doesn’t really come through in the chapters but it’s how I see the whole situation in my head.

Joel had Sarah at 24, with a sort of low commitment on and off girlfriend at the time who was somewhere in the 22-24 range. I’m not sure why she decided to go through with the pregnancy (pressure from her parents, maybe?) but she did, and Joel figured he would be involved as a typical baby daddy, having the kid live with their mom and seeing them as often as possible. However, her mom likely decided she was gonna put Sarah up for adoption, which was obviously an immediate fuck no from Joel, who basically swooped in and got custody of her. The mom moved to another city, and I don’t think Sarah or Joel ever heard from her again. 

Out of all my fics, this is the one in which Sarah’s mom has been involved the least. In my other tales (Joel is always a dad in my works haha), her mom usually is mentioned to have been involved for 1-5 years, but in this one she was not involved at all, and I think Joel’s sole responsibility for her from such a young age has made their bond very strong. I definitely see them being best friends and having a very good line of communication. 

He worked in construction for many years until his early 30s (hence why he still has a truck instead of a regular car), then when he’d gotten to a pretty high level with cooking at home, Sarah pushed him to apply for a cooking job. He was tired of the long hours working in construction and thought it would be a nice change to have some free time. He’s pretty grumpy at work because he prefers working individually and doesn’t care to get involved in anyone’s disputes in a high pressure environment like that, doesn’t like to excessively share about his life etc. He’s very observant and definitely cares about the people around him, but he likes being left alone to do his work efficiently so he doesn't have to get stressed or fall behind.

Speaking of work; Jermaine, who they stole cigs from and is also a cook at the restaurant, is one of his closest friends, and they like to hang out from time to time. If Sarah is out doing things on the weekend or at a sleepover, I can see Joel and Jermaine playing GTA San Andreas and eating at his house, maybe he also plays on his basketball team. Jermaine is like 37 or something and more outgoing than Joel. He's definitely around if Sarah needs something and Joel isn't available, sort of like an uncle next to Tommy. His relationship to Tommy is fine, though he says in an upcoming chapter that he's "done enough for that jackass" in what is, presumably, a loving way but probably has some truth behind it.

This whole basketball thing is very funny to me for some reason, but here’s the story: 

Joel played basketball in middle and high school (purely because he ended up being 6’6” and his parents put him in sports very quickly), and continued to play on different teams in his 20s/30s at a competitive level. At this point, I see him playing on a long term recreational team and DON’T @ me if this sounds insane, cause I know very little about basketball, but I think he’s a power forward on his team. 

If he wants Sarah to do him a favor, he definitely tells her that he “passed up an opportunity to play in the NBA to raise her instead” which is a massive lie. He has dragged Sarah along to many basketball games throughout the years, and she gets kinda bored but knows it means a lot to him that she’s there. She prefers watching pro/college basketball with him, though, and they do that often. 

Other than that, in his free time, he works out at the gym pretty often, and for two reasons. One is to be a better player, the second is that he wants to give Sarah some space and not have her feel like he’s breathing down her neck all the time. So he gives her the house to herself for a few hours to decompress after being around people at school all day, while he goes to work out, then he comes home and makes her dinner. 

Entertainment wise, I see him liking a lot of 90s hip hop (Radio Los Santos anyone?) and he definitely is a Sopranos enjoyer. He probably does a really shitty Tony impression.

At work, he wears black pants, black t-shirts, and black high top converse shoes. At home I see him wearing a pretty typical combo of jeans, basketball shorts (obvi haha), sweatpants, t-shirts, long sleeved shirts, hoodies etc. This is likely my only non-flannel shirt wearing Joel. He of course wears a jersey and shorts while playing ball. 

As I mentioned, he doesn’t talk much about his life at work but he sometimes talks about Sarah, I think. They went on vacation together to Jamaica or something once and, when he came back, the waitress was like oooh, you’re so tan, look at you, and he was kinda flattered by her being touchy so he showed her vacation photos on his phone hahahaha

I obviously have to address his relationship to the waitress girly, so here:

As mentioned in ch 1, he has a very long term “crush” on her that started when she began working at the restaurant. I think they started talking more when she jokingly asked him to make her dinner cause she forgot to eat and then he actually did it, and she kept “forgetting” to eat so he kept cooking for her, and then she started bugging him on his breaks and he secretly liked it so then he started waiting for her to come out and keep him company. Also I say “crush” cause he’s obviously in love with her but hasn’t wanted to admit it to himself or anyone else haha, and she’s the same way back - which is why the narration is the way it is, with her actions showing her feelings but her not really conceptualizing them for herself, if that makes sense  

I think he said yes to her request to get her pregnant because, deep down, he does have a desire to have more kids, to be in a long term relationship etc. And sure, it’s a very unconventional way of going about it, but there’s obviously something in him that knows that he and this girl have a real chance at a relationship, so that confidence made him go okay, fuck it, let’s just do this completely out of order haha 

Prior to this, though, dating wise, I think he was in some relationships here and there, had some hookups but none of them really lasted all too long. Some of that might’ve been because he had full custody of Sarah and was never really by himself, he worked a lot, and always put Sarah first. Essentially he would need someone to fit into that puzzle, he wasn’t gonna try to make someone fit, they had to know and understand his situation and want to be a part of it.  

Let me know what you think or if you have any questions about this Joel of ours hahahah

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smut piv smut, unprotected piv, dirty talk, joel miller's filthy mouth, kinda enemies to lovers?, degrading language, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry

A/N: this...this is a scary thing for me to share. this is so closely drawn from my life and the things i've experienced in my twenties (as far as the restaurant stuff goes, i was never fortunate enough to catch the eyes of someone as alluring as our dear joel). i'm fully aware that i don't need another WIP but this has been comsuming me lately and i wanted to share despite the trepidation. c'est la vie, no?

ao3 link || series masterlsit || main masterlist

“Fuck.” You moaned, the sound filling the cool air of the walk in, back arching as you tried to push back against the man who had sheathed the entirety of his hard length into you with one smooth, drawn out move so attuned to your body. His grip on your hips was bruising, the feeling of him gripping tight to your shoulder even more so, but he didn’t move.

He seemed frozen, head bowed down and forehead connected with the back of your head, hands gripping tight, chest heaving with each deep breath and brushing hot against your back. Murmured words falling from his plush lips too quiet for you to catch, but you were sure if he could safely do so, he would be praising you in that filthy way he was prone to do. His large thighs were pressed to the backs of your own and the feel of his chef pants was rough on the naked skin of your thighs where he had pushed up the skirt of the dress you had worn for your shift.

“Please, Joel, I need you to move.” You circled your hips, grinding back on the entire length of him and you could feel yourself clench. A guttural moan sounded from his lips, puffing out in a misty breath.

“What did I tell you about bein’ a good girl f’me?” The hard line of him twitched deep inside you and your knees wobbled. The hand on your waist curled around your middle to help keep you upright, lest they give out on you completely. He pulled out nearly all the way only to slam back in, it took everything in you not to scream from the pleasure as white sparked across your vision. Your teeth digging into the hands that were grasping desperately onto the edge of the metal storage shelf you were pressed up against. Trying to hide the sound in an effort to keep the secret that had become your personal life just that, something shared in moments of spiking passion and deep kisses between you and the man who enraptured you beyond anything you had experienced before.

Thoughts swirled and your mind took you back to the events that transpired to allow this type of pleasure to be something that you owned, that you took, that was given to you by the man whose hands were holding you so tightly and pounding into you so deliciously.

“I think a play on mint would be a good idea, for the paired cocktail. I could whip up a batch of simple syrup infused with it or order a case of crème de menthe. But I’ll mess around with it and get back with y’all in a few days before the order needs to be placed.” You jotted down what glasses you were thinking of, a choice between a martini glass, a coup, and a tall rocks class. You pushed your reading glasses back up your nose, the frames having slipped down the bridge as you scribbled half ideas down in your small notebook. “Chef, will the mash be sweet potato or more like the topping for the Shepard’s pie we did last fall? And the balsamic, will it be a glaze over the brussels or will they be cooked with it?”

Joel Miller’s eyes seemed to snap to you, he had offered his new rotation of dishes for the fall menu and promptly spaced out. He never seemed to pay attention to anything else in the higher up meetings for the restaurant you worked at. You had been here for a year now. Having been hired as a general bartender and then bumped up to manager around two months in. You had to do an order on the fly for the bar when it was revealed that the manager had made a faux one and pocketed the money for themselves. To say they had been fired would be an understatement. They were no longer allowed to work for any part of the company.

You don’t think you had ever met his eyes before and you were beginning to think that was a blessing in disguise. His eyes were such a warm, chocolate brown that lit up into an amber wonderland that you could find yourself getting lost in when they caught the light. It took you a moment to realize that he was answering your questions. This was the first instance of a menu change that you had the chance to ask questions. His gaze wandered over what he could see of you as you sat across the table from him, further down by the barback you had chosen to help out with keeping the tickets flowing well and running drinks when the servers were busy.

“Was thinkin’ of sweet potatoes, to compliment the lamb. It won’t be a traditional mint jelly, more of a yogurt based mint sauce topped before leaving the line.” He glanced down at the menu he had provided for the meeting. It was simple and to the point. Underneath one of the new dishes, the special due to the cost of sourcing the lamb was simple descriptors. Special: Lamb. Mash. Brussels. Mint. Balsamic.

“Sounds yummy, and the balsamic, chef?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” He grunted out, not sure what to think of you asking after the dish. Sure, he knew you needed to know the components properly for each dish of the special in order to pair it properly with a house made drink. But you were so…something he wasn’t used to seeing. You had a good balance of professional and personable, both on the clock and off. He noticed some of his cooks offering you tastes of stuff they were working on during prep hours and returned dishes that came back to the kitchen. The other servers often mentioned you helping them with rowdy or difficult tables, were more than willing to help them if they didn’t know questions asked after the drinks offered and wine selection.

More often than not, people from both the front of house and back of house would sit at the bar with you after their shifts. Idle chit chat and horror stories of the night told between laughs and knowing looks. Bonding in ways that could only happen as a result of working in such a space, of being able to handle working in such a space.

He shook his head, the thoughts of you disappearing with the movement and he shoved off from the table to slink back into the kitchen. He stopped at the threshold of the dining room, your gentle voice in his ears and he stifled a shiver at the thought of your lips close enough to whisper into them. What kind of things would you be brave enough to say in hushed tones just for him? Would you whisper filthy desires into his ears and cause heat to spark down his spine, or would you beg him for the things he wanted to say to you, the things he saw flash before his closed eyes when he would see how effortlessly you knocked out a line of tickets, or helped to expo his line during the times in which spacing out tables was only a wish.

“Gotcha. Thank you, chef.”

Despite his better judgement he turned to look back at you over his shoulder, just in time to see you smile softly at him before turning your focus back to the meeting. He almost hadn’t, unsure of where the sudden salacious nature of his thoughts had sprung up from. And his heartrate picked up as he crossed into his kitchen space.

The manager of the restaurant was pacing back and forth in front of the host stand, phone held tightly to her ear as she listened to the voice bleeding from the other line. It was summer, the season of call outs and no call no shows. As predictable as the looks of glee on servers and cooks faces alike as checks hit their accounts on a weekly basis, the tip out rate through the roof with the influx of tourists and lively people of the city. The manager prided herself in being able to provide a good base pay for everyone, ignoring the cheap cop out of matching the other establishments of the area and the country in general.

None of that $2.13/hour nonsense, she had smiled genuinely at you in your interview, the softness of her excitement allowing you to seriously consider the industry you had left a few years previously in favor of going back to school, of taking the monumental step of becoming a teachers assistant at your alma mater. But grad school was around the corner, something you needed in order to pursue your dreams.

But even that wasn’t a good enough allure to keep the younger members of society committed to their shifts, especially after a particularly busy week. The restaurant world wasn’t for everyone, and it was quick to humble people in ways that still took you off guard even after having been entrenched in it for a good chunk of your twenties.

With a long sigh, a worn-out thin smile, and the harsh placement of the phone back into the charging station atop the host stand, that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen you only drifted through previously.

“You know anythin’ about preppin’ food?” The calculating look aimed down at you as Joel stood beside you in front of a prep station was sharp, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The sleeves of his chef’s coat folded up to expose the thickness of his forearms.

“Of course, we prep the-“

“Not fruit. Food. Actual food.”

The fact that he cut you off mid reply made your jaw clench and you had to hold your tongue back from spewing a bad comment. You had never been treated like that at this job, in the entire year that you’ve been here. Everyone had always been polite and friendly and professional. Things you were in return, the kitchen even going so far as to offer you the rare dead plate or extras from staff meal you were always unable to snag any of due to your schedule. People would stay and hang out at the bar after their shifts ended, often bringing you treats on their off days to share as you frequently brought stuff for the front of house to have snacks and rounds of their favorite drinks to stay hydrated during busy hours. This often extended to the back of house as well, if you had the time and means to.

The divide seen so cleanly in other restaurants was something that you tried to eradicate here, not play into the ‘this versus them’ ideology that plagues too many establishments and allowed for more errors and unhappy customers.

That’s not to say there was the odd throwaway comment in the heat of dinner rush or particularly challenging event, but those were brushed under the table as they were harmless. But this, this animosity for someone willing to help out when it was desperately needed, was uncalled for and sparking annoyance in your chest.

You hadn’t really interacted with Joel directly. Just in passing and hardly for longer than a professional acknowledgment during staff meetings when a new dish would be rolling out and you needed to make a cocktail or wine pairing for it. To be honest, you hadn’t spoken to him out of the childish daydream of not wanting the image of the handsome man to be shattered in your mind’s eye. Guess you were right to worry about something being wrong with him to warrant him to spend what seemed like his entire life in the damn kitchen. He had a superiority complex, it seemed.

But for him to be rude and cut you off after already making it clear he didn’t want you in his kitchen?

Game, fucking, on.

“Oh, no,” You adjusted the fit of the black gloves around your right wrist before you carefully picked up the chef knife and tapped the tip of it on the cutting board. Joel’s eyes were heavy and judgmental as you did so, he probably disliked the way you had needed to get the feel of the knife before using it. But he stayed silent, the furrow of his brows and the turndown of his plush lips deepening as you quickly and efficiently broke down the chicken. Once you were done, you placed the knife along the edge of the cutting board beside the line made up of a pair of breasts, thighs, legs, wings, and the severed spine of the chicken. “I don’t think I’m any good with actual food, chef.”

The controlled expression you were holding didn’t break, even when one of Joel’s eyebrows seemed to rise without conscious thought as his sharp eyes danced from the cutting board atop the prep station to you standing at attention in front of it. The tick in his jaw was garnering your attention, an obvious show to what the man was really feeling at your little display. Despite his less than kind attitude toward you, you couldn’t help the flash of heat that flared up in your middle at the thought of sucking kisses into the cut of his jaw, right where it was showing is ire. The surrounding kitchen staff were all peering over toward your new station with wide eyes, unbelieving that you were deliberately feigning innocence in a cheeky manner toward the head chef.

He may be an asshole, he may be loud, he may be particular, and he may have high standards: but no one argued with him because of his skill set and how effortlessly he displayed it day in and day out.

“Now, I believe we prep a total of 56 for the night shift. After dissembling them, they get placed into a salt brine to allow the skin to brown and crisp easier when braised or pan roasted. With an extra 4 just in case of dishes going to the wrong table or mix ups with servers not paying attention to the available par, is that correct, chef?”

Your lips turned up in a small grin and you knocked your gaze up to catch the man’s eyes. There was a fire behind them, one you were sure he was about to unleash on you in front of the entire staff. He was known for his outbursts when really upset, whether it be from someone not listening to clear instructions or a count gone wrong and messing up the rotation of dishes that could be offered that shift. Instead, he gave you a curt nod and told you to complete the prep by time the doors were to open and walked briskly away.

You spent the rest of the evening prepping the necessary things for the dinner service. You could’ve just done what had been asked of you, but you peeked at the long list of things that needed to be done by the person who had bailed on their shift, on the job and decided that the bar would be okay on a weekday night without you.

You prepped the chickens for the evening and the chickens for tomorrow’s service so the kitchen wouldn’t be behind like it had nearly been today. You had diced in perfect cubes the pickled beets for the panzanella salad and the components for the egg salad to be combined. Portioned out the ingredients for the brine and brought them to a soft boil atop a hot plate for a new batch of pickles and prepared the cucumbers with a mandolin. Sliced and portioned out the bologna and pancetta used for sandwiches, and even sliced the other components like the provolone cheese, cucumbers, and tomatoes used on them as well.

You neatly organized and legibly dated everything before breaking down the station at the end of the night. Even taking everything out of the banes and running them through dish and drying them before placing them back in their respective locations underneath the hood. Going as far as to deep clean the cooler shelves down below, wiping them down and sanitizing the entire station before putting everything back according to FIFO etiquette and wrapping it all up for the night.

The next day, your schedule was updated with two hours of prep before your typical shifts for the bar.

next chapter

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part four

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: joel miller au, reader's family members finally get names in this, a whole lotta tooth-rotting fluff, sexual innuendos, sexual tension, your (fictional) brothers are a pain in the ass, reader has a nickname given by the brothers, smut (unprotected piv, f!oral receiving, fingering, body praise, quick handjob), no use of y/n.

word count: 9.2k (i'm so sorry)

a/n: sorry it took forever. life has been so hectic after graduating. thank you for sticking around <3

synopsis: you and joel take a road trip to san antonio for your sister’s wedding, and with feelings at an all-time high, you find it nearly impossible to resist each other.

“So what time are you and Joel leaving tomorrow?” Your sister asks on the other end of the line. 

Tomorrow was the rehearsal dinner for her wedding, and you had to drive out to San Antonio. Joel promised you countless times that he was more than happy to accompany you to the wedding, even though you warned him countless times about your family. 

“Probably around ten. He’s spending the night tonight so we can just get ready and leave in the morning.” You’re folding the last of your clothes to pack, phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you mentally double check that you have everything you need in your suitcase. 

“Okay, good. Mom’s kind of upset that she hasn’t met this ‘mystery man’ as she calls it. She’s been dying to know all the details.” 

You roll your eyes and sigh, already knowing this weekend was going to be absolutely exhausting dealing with everyone. 

“She’ll literally meet him tomorrow. I kept our relationship at bay because of how she gets. Not to mention Andrew and Cole, and god knows what they’ll say to Joel tomorrow.” 

Your sister laughs, “That’s true. Can’t imagine they won’t harass him about treating you right. I’ll make sure to keep them in check.” 

“Em, you know they will. They hovered when Christian and I broke up.” 

“I know. But Joel’s a good man. The whole family will love him.” 

“I really hope you’re right.” 

“Always am. Call it big sister’s intuition.” 

“Funny.” You scoff with a smile, closing your suitcase. 

“I know. Hey, Josh and I have to talk to the wedding planner about a few last minute details. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She says. 

“See you tomorrow, Em. Love you.” 

“Love you too!” 

The line goes dead and you sigh, tossing your phone onto your bed. You were trying to mentally prepare yourself for the hellfire you were going to receive after keeping Joel a secret for awhile. You looked at your bedside table and the alarm clock on top of it, red numbers blinking at you to remind you you still had a few more hours until Joel would be coming over. 

Nerves settled in about him meeting your family, but nobody could resist Joel and his Southern charm. You couldn’t help but fantasize that your whole family loved him, welcoming him in with open arms. God, you hope that was the case. 

-

You killed time by cooking some dinner and watching some more of The Bachelor, feeding into the drama of the show. You were so invested that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door. 

The feeling of giddiness took over your body as you opened the door, revealing your boyfriend. He had a small smile on his face, but his eyes were tired. 

“Hey baby,” You say, stepping to the side for him, “C’mon in. I made us some dinner. Figured you could eat after your shift.” 

Joel groans in appreciation. “Thank you darlin’.” He sets his bag down and closes your door, locking it before wrapping his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent for a minute. 

You could sense something was wrong, but you didn’t want to push him about it. Maybe a little shove wouldn’t hurt, though.

You run your fingers through his soft curls before turning your head to the side to kiss his neck, separating yourself from him for a brief moment. 

“You okay?” Worry was evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but melt at the concern written all over your face as you took his in between your hands. 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. You could see it in his eyes, sensing that he was holding something back. 

“You can talk to me, you know. If you’d like. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, though.” You take his hand and lead him to the couch, coaxing him to sit down. You climbed behind him, sitting down to slot your thighs on either side of his. 

You start to rub his back, slowly putting pressure on any knots that you’d found. You kiss him between his shoulder blades, silence consuming the both of you for a good few minutes before you hear his faint whisper. 

“Rough shift. Had a call that didn’t go so well. Kinda shook up the whole firehouse.” 

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. His hands cover yours and swipe his thumbs over you. 

You hear him sniffle and your head shoots up, attempting to turn his head toward you. He resists at first, but eventually melts into your soft touch and turns his face toward yours as you slightly lean over his broad frame. 

“It’s okay, Joel. You never have to hide how you’re feeling from me. If you need to cry about it, that’s fine. I’ll never think you’re less of a man for showing your emotions.” 

He offers you a small smile before leaning in to kiss your forehead, softly knocking his against yours as he sighs. 

“I’ve been so used to suppressin’ rough calls for years. Nobody to turn to except my coworkers n’ Tommy, and even then it’s not somethin’ we all collectively talk about. My ex,” He huffs an angry laugh at the mention of her, “Sarah’s mom. She– she always told me that cryin’ about how tough my job can be sometimes isn’t somethin’ a real man does. No man should cry over a job. So I just pretended. I pretended that the job didn’t affect me anymore, that I was fine every time I came home. I pretended to be okay when in reality I jus’ wanted to fuckin’ scream and cry.” He turns his head to the side again as more tears silently cascade down his beautiful face. 

“Hey, look at me,” Your voice is soft, as if you’re trying not to scare an already frightened animal. “I can promise you that you never have to pretend with me.” You wipe his tears with your thumb, kissing his cheek softly as you continue to gently rub his back. 

“Y’don’t know how much that means to me, darlin’. It’s not easy carryin’ the weight of this job on my shoulders alone. I don’t want to burden you with any of it–”

“Hey, none of that alright? You’re not burdening me. I can’t even imagine the terrible things you’ve seen and endured while on the job. I swear to you that I’m here to listen. Or just be a shoulder to lay on. We don’t even need to talk if you don’t want to, but just know that option is always there.” 

He turns his head to kiss your temple, squeezing his eyes shut before leaning his head back onto your shoulder. 

The “L” word rolled around in your mind for a split second. A month and a half ago, it would’ve scared you. But now, being here with Joel, it just seemed so normal and comfortable. He may have felt the same too, you think. Maybe it was too early to tell. 

-

You wish it was a morning where you and Joel could laze around and relax. Waking up beside him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t experienced in so long. You secretly study his face as he sleeps: tan skin glowing from the morning sunlight, eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, messy curls resting haphazardly over his forehead, and plump lips parted as he emits soft snores. 

He’s so handsome. 

You couldn’t help but bring your hand out to trace his face with your fingertips, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. 

His eyebrows scrunch together as he slowly begins to wake from his slumber, hands shooting up to rub over his face. His eyes find yours when he drops his hands from his face, a grin curling onto his lips. 

“Mornin’ baby.” His voice was deep and raspy, still full of sleep. It made something stir deep down inside of you. 

“Morning, handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose before sitting up to get out of bed, but Joel pulls you back by your wrist and maneuvers you so you’re laying on top of him. 

You laugh as he wraps his arms around you securely, making sure you can’t move an inch or wiggle away. 

“We gotta get up and get going, Joel.” 

He groans loudly, the sound vibrating his whole body and yours. “Five more minutes.” His muffled voice says from underneath you. 

“Uh uh, cowboy. C’mon, I’ll make you a thermos of coffee.” You tap his stomach twice before he releases you to stand on your feet. You make your way into the kitchen, fighting the urge to look back at Joel, because you knew you’d give him more than five minutes if you did. 

You start up the coffee pot and lean against the counter, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Joel emerges in the kitchen shortly after, leaning against the wall as he admires you in your sleepy state. 

“What?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow up at him. 

“Nothin’ baby.” He smiles before coming into the kitchen, lifting you up on the counter and slotting himself between your legs. 

“Mmmhm.” You say, putting your hands on his warm chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips and notice it’s slightly elevated, which you can’t help but smile at. 

Joel leans in to you and kisses your neck, and you can’t help but loll your head to the side to give him better access. His lips graze over your pulse point and you instinctively grip onto his biceps, trying your hardest to suppress a moan. 

“Joel—” 

“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” 

“If you keep doing that, we’re never—fuck— never gonna leave in time.” He pokes his tongue out and drags it down your jugular, kissing the base of your neck before lightly nibbling on your soft flesh. 

“Doin’ what, baby?” He teases, smirking against you. 

“You know what, cowboy,” And before he could retort, the coffee maker beeps to indicate Joel’s coffee was done. “Saved by the bell.” You mumble, gently separating yourself from Joel. His honey brown gaze bores into yours as he chuckles at your flustered state before sliding his phone out of his pocket. 

He types in the address to the hotel the wedding party was staying at. Joel meticulously calculates the stops you may need to make along the way before looking at you again. 

 “Should take us about an hour and a half to get there. Two hours if there’s heavy traffic.” 

“It’s not too late to back out, you know.” 

“‘N why would I do that, darlin’?” 

“To save yourself from the chaos that the weekend will bring. I can tell my family you had to work instead. Nobody can get mad at a firefighter for working.” 

Joel tosses his head back as he gutturally laughs, shoulders shaking. The whole thing was a little ridiculous, but you know how your family is, and you were ultimately just looking out for him. 

His gaze meets yours, a glint of adoration in his eyes as he leans forward. You can’t help the stupid grin that curls onto your lips as he gently nudges your body closer to his, finally slotting his lips with yours. 

You’ll never get tired of those butterflies that rumble rambunctiously in your tummy every time you kiss him. 

He leans back a little, and with his irresistible charm, winks at you before he huffs another small laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” 

You hop off the counter and pat his abdomen adoringly before flashing him a grin. “Well then, cowboy, let's get to it.”

-

The drive wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it would be, pulling up to the hotel around one in the afternoon. Joel unloads your luggage from the bed of his truck and you wrap your arm around his bicep, walking toward the lobby after he locks up. It was a fancy hotel located right next to the Riverwalk with a huge ballroom for the reception. You had to hand it to your sister and Josh; this place was absolutely beautiful. 

You walked up to the reception desk with Joel in tow, and the spunky brunette smiled as you approached her. 

“Hi, we’re here for the Martinez wedding.” 

“First name?” The receptionist asks, typing something into her computer. You give her your first name and she pulls two keys out of a cardholder, handing it over to you. 

“Ah, sister of the bride! How exciting. You two will be on the seventh floor, third room on the right after you get out of the elevator. Enjoy your stay.” 

“Thank you so much.” You say, taking the card keys from her before you step away from the desk. You and Joel were heading towards the elevator when you heard a familiar voice call your name, and you turned around to see your brothers. 

Panic overtook your body for a few seconds, glancing at Joel who gave you a small smile. How was he always so calm? 

“Thought you could sneak past us without saying hi?” Cole says with a shit-eating grin, eyeing Joel as he comes up to you to give you a hug. 

“You ain’t slick, Shadow.” Andrew says, hugging you after Cole. 

“God, Andy, seriously? That nickname?”

”What, you afraid we’re gonna embarrass you in front of your boyfriend that you’ve been hiding from us?” Cole jerks his head toward Joel, who shifts on his weight as he lets go of his suitcase. 

“Shut up, Cole,” You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh. “Joel, these are my idiot brothers Andrew and Cole. Andy, Cole, this is my boyfriend Joel.” You introduce them, and Joel puts on his best smile before extending his hand. 

“Nice to meet you both.” He says, and it’s comical how both of your brothers try to come off as intimidating toward Joel. Joel keeps a calm demeanor anyhow; his steady, charming smile never wavering. 

“Uh huh. Nice to meet you too. Hey, let us buy you a drink, yeah?” Andrew says, jerking his head toward the bar located at the far end of the lobby. Joel glances at you as you give him a tight-lipped smile, wrapping your hand around his bicep once more. You turn back to your brothers before sighing. 

“Let us put our bags up in our room first before I let you harass him. Jesus.” You half-joke, and Cole claps Joel on the shoulder. 

“What makes you think we’re gonna harass him, Shadow? We’re just looking out for ya.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Now please let go of his shoulder.” You roll your eyes and tug on Joel’s arm gently, coaxing him to follow you to the elevators. 

“Fine. See you down here in a few.” 

You wave your brothers off before getting into the elevator, hitting the seventh floor button. 

“Jesus, Joel, I’m so sorry. Thought we’d get a chance to fucking breathe before my brothers started literally harassing you.” 

He laughs and shakes his head, giving your temple a kiss. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, baby. They’re just bein’ protective. I get it.” 

“Just… take anything they might say with a grain of salt.” 

He chuckles and nods as the elevator dings and the door opens to the seventh floor. You stop in front of your room and open the door, gasping at how beautiful it is. The king bed in the middle looks absolutely heavenly, and your mind can’t help the  image flashing in your mind of you and Joel getting tangled in those very sheets. Heat rushes to your face at the thought, and you walk over to the window to distract yourself. The gleaming summer sun reflects on the calm waters below at the Riverwalk, giving it a mesmerizing gleam. 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses your shoulder. “Beautiful,” He murmurs, but unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t talking about the water below. 

“We should go back down so my brothers don’t give you more shit than you’re probably going to get.” You grimace at the thought of what they’re going to say to him. 

Joel chuckles and playfully shakes you before loosening his grasp on your midsection. 

“Just promise me you won’t run for the hills if they get to be too much. I’ll put them in their place.” You offer, and Joel kisses your forehead. 

“I’d only run if you were right by my side, baby.” 

-

Joel didn’t know what to expect from your brothers. He could feel the nerves buzzing off of you as you both made your way back to the elevator to go down to the lobby again, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your erratic nerves. 

He knew from the very beginning that he’d be in the long haul of things with you, so he knew facing your family at some point was going to happen. Absolutely nothing your brothers say or do will make him ‘run for the hills’, as you’d put it. 

Joel thought the look you tossed his way when the elevator doors opened to the lobby was adorable. He could tell that you wanted this to go well, and who was he to let you down? 

Joel gave your hand a squeeze as you both made your way up to your brothers again. 

“Joel, how ‘bout that drink.” Andrew says, head jerking toward the bar on the opposite end of the lobby. 

“Sure.” He says, trying to keep his cool. He wondered briefly if this was the slight fear you might’ve felt when you met Sarah. 

“I’m gonna go find mom and Em.” You say, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek. He watches you walk out before your brothers tug him along to the bar area, ordering a round of Lone Star. 

“So I’m a real cut-to-the-chase type guy,” Andrew starts, settling into the barstool next to Joel. Joel nods and sits up straight before taking a swig of his beer to ease his nerves. “I’m sure you’re aware of our sister’s past relationship. Who’s to say you won’t hurt her like that asshole did?” 

Joel was taken aback at Andrew’s bluntness, but his expression never wavered or gave anything away. “I know what it’s like to be hurt in a way that ya can’t ever forget about. The mother of my child left when my baby girl was only a year old. Said she couldn’t handle bein’ a parent n’ left me to fend for myself. Bein’ hurt like that,” Joel shakes his head and looks down, “It ain’t right. I would never want anyone to feel the way I felt when she walked out the door. I know your sister’s situation is a bit different, but my feelings toward it are all the same. I like your sister a whole lot n’ the last thing on God’s green Earth I’d ever wanna do is hurt ‘er.” 

Andrew nods, weighing Joel’s answer in his head. Joel was telling the truth. He’d never want to hurt you. You deserve to be happy, and he knows you can do that completely on your own, but he loves to be the reason behind it. He loves seeing you smile knowing he’s the reason it’s there in the first place. 

“What do you do for work?” Cole changed the subject, and Joel shifts his gaze to the younger brother. 

“I’m a firefighter for the city of Austin.” 

“I’ll be damned. Shadow always said she loved a man in uniform,” Cole teased, and the three men chuckled in unison. 

“How come y’all call her Shadow? She’s never told me anythin’ about that story.” Joel says, and the brothers can’t help but smile at the opportunity to tease their little sister.

“She was afraid of her shadow when she was younger, maybe around like two or three years old. We’d always tease her about it and the nickname just stuck.” 

“‘S actually really funny.” Joel said, thinking about how he’d be able to tease you later on with the newfound information. 

“So how did you meet our sister? She hasn’t told us a damn thing about you.” Cole grimaces, taking a sip of his beer. 

“I met her at a local coffee shop near her apartment. She actually made the first move,” Joel recalls, and he can’t help but smile at the memory. “She paid for my coffee.” 

“That’s pretty out of character for her. She’s usually pretty shy.” Andrew said. 

“Believe me, I was surprised. She was so sweet… after I caught her checkin’ me out. I was in uniform.” Joel laughs, and the brothers join in with him. 

“Told ya she loves a man in uniform.” Cole nudges Joel. 

“You said you’re a firefighter,” Andrew repeats aloud, wheels turning in his head. “Shit, the accident,” He says, looking at Joel. Joel nods, not quite sure where he was going with this. 

“Wasn’t pretty. Got the call and I saw her car—”

“Wait, so you were on the scene? You’re telling me you’re the one who got our sister out of her car?” Andrew was bewildered, blinking rapidly in complete disbelief. 

Joel furrowed his brows and looked down at his knotted hands, reliving that moment in his head. 

“Yeah. I’d only known her for hours at that point, but all I knew was that I needed to get her out of there. Scared the hell outta me.” 

“Unbelievable. Can’t believe she left out that huge detail,” Cole chuckles and shakes his head, but looks up at Joel in all seriousness. “Thank you for saving her.” 

Joel gives them both a soft smile. “I’d save her all over again in a heartbeat.” 

“You’re a damn hero, man. To our sister and to Austin.” 

Joel never knew how to accept compliments that well, let alone the hero compliments. He just saw it as doing his job and getting to help those in need. 

“Well, cheers to you. We can both tell you’re an honest man and anyone who’s willing to literally—and figuratively, I guess—save our sister is a man who has our utmost respect.” Andrew says, holding his beer bottle up in the air. 

Cole raised his bottle and Joel followed suit, an echo of ‘cheers’ being thrown around. Joel’s nerves dissolved like cotton candy in water, relief flooding through his bones that your brothers approved of him. He knew meeting your dad was going to be an even bigger deal, so he was holding onto hope that it would go just as well. 

-

“So when am I meeting this Joel of yours?” Your mom says, perching her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she took a sip of her margarita. You found her and Emily poolside as they sipped their drinks while talking about last minute wedding details. 

“He’s at the bar in the lobby getting harassed by Andy and Cole.” You roll your eyes, and Emily laughs. 

“He’s a good man. I’m sure they’re all buddy-buddy now. Men are simple when it comes to meeting new people.” Emily waves her hand dismissively, easing your nerves a little. 

“Where’s dad?” You ask, looking between Emily and your mom. 

Your mom scoffs, “He’s upstairs taking a nap. Told him he wouldn’t be tired tonight but he seemed to think otherwise.” 

“He’s probably overwhelmed with all the wedding stuff.” You offer with a shrug, and your mom huffs. 

“He isn’t the one planning the damn thing.” 

“There you guys are!” Cole calls out to you three, Andrew and Joel in tow. Your eyes lock on Joel’s gaze and you’re relieved to see he made it out of the interrogation unscathed. 

He makes his way over to you, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss. 

“So you must be Joel.” Your mom says, eyes alight at the exchange you and Joel had. 

“I am. It’s so great to meet you, Mrs.—”

Your mom waves her hand to dismiss his formalities. “Oh, none of that. Just call me Alexandria. It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s been making my youngest daughter so happy.” She grins up at him, and it was easy to clock the blush that spreads over his tan cheeks. 

“I can argue that she makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” He looks down at you and shoots you a wink, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully. 

“Touché, Miller.” You say, warmth filling your body as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

Everyone got into chatting about the rehearsal dinner and the bar of choice afterwards, scampering off to their respective rooms. 

It only took a couple of hours for everyone to get ready and head down to the lobby, being shuffled into the courtyard by hotel staff. Sage green and cream decorations adorned the spacious place with rows of chairs neatly lined up for the big day tomorrow. The gazebo at the end of the walkway was strewn with fairy lights that gave a soft glow that added to to romantic ambience. 

For a split second, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what your future wedding would look like… with Joel. You may have been presumptuous in thinking such a thing, but you truly felt deep down that this was the man you were meant to marry. 

The wedding coordinator lined all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen up, and you took your respectable place next to Karina who was your sister’s best friend and maid of honor. 

After two full run-throughs of the ceremony and placement adjustments, the wedding coordinator took everyone to the ballroom where the reception was being held.

It wasn’t long before everyone finished their dinners, polite conversation being held as the night went on. 

“So you’re the Joel everyone’s been buzzing about.” Your dad says, and you give him a stern look to say go easy on him. Not that Joel couldn’t handle himself, but because your dad could get a little out of hand at times. 

“Yes sir, that’s me.” He says, grabbing your hand underneath the table to give it a squeeze. 

“I hear you’re a firefighter. Good man.” Your dad nods in approval, and proceeds to ask Joel about some calls he’s gotten in the past. Everyone at the table was listening intently to him, curious as to what life as a firefighter is really like. 

Your gaze roams to your mom, who’s already looking between you and Joel with a sparkle in her eye you’d never seen before. She gives you a wink and sips her wine, turning her attention back to Joel. 

It seems his Southern charm and calm demeanor had won every single one of your family members over, and relief floods through your body at that. That’s all you wanted, and you couldn’t have been happier to see it become a reality. 

-

After dinner, Josh and Emily told everyone that they weren’t having a ‘traditional’ bachelor and bachelorette party. Instead, they wanted to go to a bar together and have a few drinks with everyone as one last celebration before they both say I do. 

It wasn’t surprising to you. Your sister had always been the homebody type and Josh was right there with her. You thought it was romantic in a sense, knowing that they really didn’t need anything big or to spend time apart before their big day. 

The bar was a few buildings down from the hotel, with a huge dance floor in the middle and patrons singing along to the mix of music that was playing as they drank. 

Your dad ordered a round of shots for everybody, making a toast to Josh and Emily. 

“To the bride and groom to be.” Your dad says, and everyone clinks their glasses together before throwing back their liquor. 

You shudder at the taste, setting the cup down onto the sticky bartop. 

“May I have this dance?” Joel asks you, holding his hand out for you to take. You grin and grab his hand, grip steady as he leads you out to the dance floor. 

You steadily sway to the song as you lean your head on Joel’s shoulder, letting him guide you to the beat. You glance up to see your family members have joined you both on the dance floor, and you smile in content as you squeeze Joel’s hand. He kisses your head before separating you, spinning you around so your back is against his front. 

He rocks you slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder before kissing your cheek. 

“‘M real happy you let me tag along this weekend, sweetheart.” Joel says, and you turn your head toward him and quirk an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? And why’s that?” 

“‘S nice to get out of Austin every once in a while. Your family is real invitin’, too.” 

“Before or after they interrogated you?” You ask with a smirk, and he laughs before spinning you again so you’re face-to-face. 

“Mostly after.” He confesses with a softness to his voice. You study his features unashamedly, the soft smile he has on his lips making your heart skip a beat as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 

There’s a certainty behind them that you can’t exactly pinpoint, but it made your whole body feel warm and fuzzy inside and you honest to god never wanted to forget the feeling. Joel is the only man who’s made you feel things you’ve never felt. He’s the only man who’s ever kept you on your toes yet has this overwhelming sense of comfort to him that just makes you want to give it all to him. 

And by the way he was looking back at you, you’d bet his thoughts are similar to yours. 

“You two are so in love it makes me sick.” Andrew sidles up beside you, nudging you in your ribs. 

Your eyes go wide and you look at your brother in panic, pleading him to shut the fuck up before you kill him with your bare hands. 

“Fuck off, Andy.” You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. You didn’t deny the painfully obvious fact, though. You didn’t want to deny it. 

Was it fast? Yes. But you couldn’t help how you felt. You were tired of running from something that was great for you. You were tired of running from solidity and peace and patience and love, all of which Joel gave you without having to say a single word. 

And then you realized—Joel never denied it either. He didn’t deny it when your brother’s loud mouth said that sacred word. He didn’t deny it when you looked at him again, that familiar look in his eyes returning as he just smiled at you, seemingly content in every possible way. 

Before you could say anything, Cole comes up to you while waving a crisp twenty dollar bill in your face. 

“Betcha one Jackson that you can’t ride that bull over there and stay on for more than a minute.” He’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you’d take any opportunity to prove your brother wrong. 

“Oh, I will. After this song though,” You grin at Joel as Boot Scootin’ Boogie plays over the speakers. “C’mon cowboy, I wanna show off my new moves.” 

Joel easily obliges as he takes you deeper onto the dance floor. You’re slotted in a mix of a sweaty and drunken crowd, too far gone to care if they’re too off-beat or embarrassing themselves. 

You follow Joel’s lead and you two easily end up in sync with one another, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere between the spin in the chorus and the two-step move he’d taught you, you catch your family members staring at the two of you. Your mom whispers something to your sister, and you hope to god she didn’t change her opinion of him or something after seeing you two dancing like this. 

Emily knows you better than the back of her fucking hand, though, and she instantly reassures you with a smile and thumbs up before panic settles into your bones. 

Although it seems everyone in your immediate family approves of Joel, it would devastate you if they changed their minds about him for whatever reason. He wasn’t your ex. They at least knew that much. As much as you loved them, they were overbearing sometimes when it came to protecting you after what’d happened with Christian. You didn’t need that to drive a wedge between you and Joel, no matter how much of a forewarning you give him. 

The song ends and reality trickles back around you, as Joel spins you into him, giving you a chaste kiss. Your eyes flutter open after you pull away in the slightest, and there it is — that look — unwavering, and clear as day in his eyes. 

“Go show ‘em how you ride it.” He remarks, shooting you a wink. Your face heats at his obvious innuendo, and he can’t help the sly smirk that grows on his lips. 

Without another word, he releases you from his grasp and urges you toward your brother, still waving the twenty in his hand around like a flag. 

You roll your eyes at him and climb up onto the mechanical bull, the DJ timing you into when the machine will start to move. 

It was slow at first, and you easily found a rhythm to keep steady on its back. It started to jerk around and spin faster, and your thighs burned as you clenched onto the sides for dear life. You wanted to give a little show though, so you placed your hands behind your back and looked up at your brother with a wicked grin. 

His face deflated as he knew he’d been beaten. Your eyes flicker to Joel and you want to laugh at his expression—it seemed to be a cross between lust, admiration and astonishment. 

Oh, cowboy. You have no idea what you’re in for. 

The DJ announces your victory and the patrons of the bar cheer you on as you hop off of the bull. You walk up to Cole and snatch the twenty bucks from his hand before leaning into Joel, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Wanna go back to the hotel room? I’m beat.” You ask Joel, and he nods. You say goodnight to your family and other members of the wedding party before you both head back in a comfortable silence. 

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you fall into step side-by-side, and Joel pulls you into him as you walk into the lobby of the hotel. You make your way onto the elevators and Joel presses the button of your floor, looking at you with a softness in his eyes as he settles his hand on your shoulder. 

“Thank you again for doing this whole wedding fiasco with me.” You say, voice full of exhaustion. He shoots you a soft smile and pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you securely. You mirror his actions as you look at him, an adoring gaze sparkling in his eyes. He leans in and kisses your forehead, giving your body a small squeeze. 

“Of course, darlin’.” 

You went to bed that night with Joel’s arm wrapped around you and a mind of racing thoughts, all consumed by that feeling again—the terrifying, wonderful feeling that kept playing in your mind as if it was the most obvious conclusion you’ve ever come to. 

-

The next morning was a blur. You got up early, trying not to disturb Joel because he looked so peaceful in his sleep. It was chaos amongst the bridal party with everyone getting ready and your sister revealing her final look to the girls. Tears sprang in your eyes as you saw her with the biggest smile on her face, unwavering as she twirled around in her dress that fit like a glove. 

“Emi, you look so beautiful. Josh is going to lose it when he sees you.” You say, sniffling as she gives you a tight hug. 

“I love you sis. Thank you for being a part of my big day.” She says, rubbing your back before pulling apart from you. You grin at her and blow her a kiss, turning when you feel your mom slightly nudge you. 

“Speaking of losing it, Joel’s gonna be head over heels seeing you in this dress,” Your mom says, “Wonder what he’ll be like when it’s your guys’ wedding and he sees you in a bridal gown.”

“Mom,” You stop her, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters at the thought of marriage with him. “Please don’t.”

Way too fucking soon. Right?

Your mom throws her hands up in defense, giving you a knowing look. 

“That man is in love with you, baby. He looks at you like you’re the sun, moon and stars.” 

That feeling tugged at you once again. You began to internally panic, but luckily the bridal party got called to an area in the hotel to take pictures. You needed a distraction, because knowing you and your mind, you’d unintentionally start self-sabotaging your relationship with Joel. 

Fuck, your ex really did a number on you. 

The day seemed to run by in a blur. Watching your sister say ‘I do’ to the love of her life made you glance over at Joel in the crowd, and to your surprise, his focus was already on you. 

There was this undeniably soft look in his eyes that said a million words without him having to utter a single one. He winks at you with a small smile and you mirror his grin, heading back down the aisle after Emily and Josh made their way down. 

A few hours later it was well into the reception, and Joel offered you his hand so you could slow dance with each other. 

“You know this thing drives me crazy, right?” You say, tapping the brim of his Stetson. He looked at you with a smirk, raising his eyebrows. 

“Really? Couldn’t tell.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and you rolled your eyes as you huffed a laugh. He was wearing an emerald green button down with black slacks and black shoes, and his black cowboy hat tied the whole look together. He’d been getting stares all night by various family members and friends from both sides of the parties. 

You thought jealousy would’ve brewed its way into you, sinking her claws into your flesh—but it was the complete opposite. Pride blooms in your chest as you slow dance with this handsome man—your handsome man. 

“You look absolutely breathtakin’ tonight though, baby.” Joel whispers in your ear as you lean your head on his shoulder, taking in his addicting scent. 

You smile against him and bring your arm up over his other shoulder, gently wrapping your fingers around the base of his neck. Your index finger twirls the curls peeking out of the bottom of his hat absentmindedly, swaying with him with total ease. 

“I can say the same for you.” You murmur, and he squeezes your waist softly. 

“Yeah?” 

You lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his gaze, light and playful. A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes and you bite your lip in anticipation, the bubbling arousal having never left you since the previous night. 

You nod, hesitating for a second to find the right words. You knew you wanted to take the next step with him and finally go all the way without being interrupted. That is, if he’d have you. 

“I’d love to show you.” You whisper as the song ends. An upbeat tune plays immediately after, everyone crowding on the dance floor. It was the perfect time to make an escape. 

He links his fingers with yours, leaning forward to kiss you. You can’t help but smile as his lips press to yours, and you can’t help yourself—you take the hat off of his head mid-kiss, plopping it onto yours. He separates himself from you with a soft smile and a daring glint in his gaze. 

He tsked at you teasingly, adjusting the hat to sit straight onto your head. 

“What was that about the ‘Cowboy Hat Rule’ again?” You feign innocence, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics, ultimately deciding to play along. 

“How ‘bout I show you rather than tell you?” He says, and that’s all you need to gently tug him away from the crowd and toward the lobby. You make your way to the elevators, nerves buzzing through your veins at the prospect of what’s to happen. 

After what feels like forever, the elevator doors finally open and you both step inside. The doors close after Joel hits the seventh floor button, and the tension radiating off of both of you in such a confined space was nearly unbearable. 

Joel takes his hat off of your head and gently pushes you against the elevator wall, crowding you with his broad body. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute as you stare at him, gaze never wavering. 

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel crashes his lips to yours in fervor. You moan into the kiss as you tangle your hands through his curls, tugging on the base of them. 

His free hand finds your hip and squeezes, rutting his hips into yours. You can feel his bulge through his slacks, and you can’t help but whimper into the intense kiss as one hand travels down his back. 

Before you can touch him any further, the elevator dings and he separates from you, locking eyes with an elderly couple. 

The woman has a knowing smile on her face and sighs, “Oh, to be young and in love.” Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator and to your shared room, fumbling with the key. It almost calms you in a way to know you aren’t the only one filled with nerves, anxious about finally being able to have this time to yourselves. 

Joel tossed the keycard onto the side table when he finally got it open, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you into the room. The soft glow of the lamp illuminates his handsome features as he stares at you admirably, tossing his Stetson onto a chair next to the bed without looking. 

Joel steps closer to you, grabbing your hips gently before leaving a trail of kisses from your forehead, nose, cheek, and finally, your lips. The kiss was softer this time—full of emotion, saying a thousand words with one simple gesture. 

His hands skate up your back and to the zipper of your dress, parting his lips from yours as he looks into your eyes. 

“Can I?” His voice is soft but hopeful, and you instantly nod. He drags the zipper down your back with ease, slowly removing the straps from your shoulders. The dress pools to your feet below you, and you’re left in a lacy nude and black bra with black panties. Joel’s eyes rake over your body hungrily, hands twitching at his sides. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” 

You can’t help but feel shy for a second, but Joel wasn’t having any of that. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing your lips a few times before he nods his head to the bed. 

“On the bed, baby. Spread your legs for me.” His deep, commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this. 

You do as you’re told, settling your head onto the plush pillows as you let your legs fall open. Joel moves to untuck his green shirt. He unbuttons the shirt slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. You bite your lip teasingly as you watch him undress, and his thick, tan torso comes into sight. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, you know that?” You say, but it nearly sounds like a whine. Joel flashes you a smirk before climbing onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. Your arms grip his shoulders before grabbing the green material, sliding it off of his arms completely before tossing it onto the floor for him. You kiss his shoulder and neck, hands moving up to tangle themselves in his curls once again. 

He ruts his hips into you, and the pressure of his bulge catches perfectly onto your aching clit. You moan his name softly, moving one hand down to gently palm him through his slacks.  

“Can’t believe we finally get to do this without any interruptions.” Joel chuckles, moving down to kiss your neck. 

“Let’s not hold our breaths.” You say teasingly, fingers moving to unbutton and unzip his slacks. He allows it, not stopping you from eagerly undressing the rest of him. 

He separates himself from you, sliding the slacks down his legs before moving down the bed, kissing your body as he goes. His tongue traces lines down your thighs, dangerously close to your aching core, before he kisses your skin. He continues the assault of kisses until his mouth is hovering over the only thing that separates your most intimate part from him and his line of sight. He kisses the lace fabric once, then pokes his tongue out to drag the strong muscle from your entrance to your clit. 

You can’t hold back your moans anymore. You need him so bad. 

Your body was nearly shaking from the buzz of anticipation coursing through your veins, aching to have his hands and mouth all over you. 

He finally hooks his fingers into the side of your panties, tapping your hips twice to silently instruct you to lift them. You comply once more, and Joel drags the lace material down your legs. 

He comes back up to you, kissing your lips once before settling his face between your legs again. 

You feel so exposed and almost embarrassed, but the carnal need for this man outweighs the shyness a thousand times over. 

“So perfect, baby. So goddamn perfect. ‘N all mine.” He says, looking up at you before separating your glistening folds with his middle and forefinger. You gasp and whine his name as he just stares at you, mesmerized by the way you squirm under his touch. 

You try to beg and plead him to do anything, but the words won’t come out. 

He seems to have decided he’s teased you enough, because the next thing you know, his tongue licks a long stripe up from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your clit. Your moans only spur him on as he solely focuses on you, eating your pussy like a starved man. 

Nobody has ever turned you on the way Joel Miller has, and you cannot for the life of you believe this man is yours. He’s yours, and he’s here, very present and very meticulous when it comes to pleasing you with that beautiful mouth of his. 

Joel moves his tongue down and prods into your entrance, fucking you with the muscle. Your back arches off of the mattress and he has to use both of his hands to hold your hips down, locking his fingers down into your flesh. 

“Fuck, Joel—” You squeak out as his tongue moves up to your clit, circling it a few times before sucking it into his mouth gently. The pressure is just right, and your brain is getting fuzzy—you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 

Joel takes one of his hands away from your stomach before separating his mouth from you, coating his digits in your slick. He sends a wicked smirk your way before going down again, and this time, his middle and ring finger enter you. 

It stings so good, mainly because you haven’t had this in a long time. He pumps his fingers in and out of you at an expert pace, curling them up to hit that sweet spongy spot. 

You immediately crumble. Your hips are writhing wildly beneath his half-soaked face as you cry out his name over and over again. You’re gushing all over his fingers, desperately gripping onto the soft comforter beneath you as you ride out your intense orgasm. 

“Atta girl,” Joel breathes, mesmerized by the way you clench around nothing after he removes his fingers from you. “Taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” 

He moves up to kiss you, and you can immediately taste your slick arousal on his lips and tongue. You hum into the kiss as you palm him through his boxers, tugging on the band as you separate from him. He knocks his forehead against yours gently before sliding the material down his legs, now completely bare for you. 

His hand moves to the clasp of your bra and unhooks it easily, breasts spilling out as he tosses the material on the floor with the rest of the clothes. 

He looks down at you with a soft smile, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. It’s pure bliss and you selfishly never want this to end. His hand travels down your body and in between your legs, swirling the tip of his middle finger through your arousal. You gasp at the featherlight touch, clenching around nothing as he never breaks eye contact with you. 

You decide to return the favor, licking your hand before skimming your fingers over his torso before looking down to see them slide through the dark hairs that appear below his navel. You take in the sight of his cock; it’s girthy and the perfect length. You just know it’ll feel divine. You thumb the pre-come leaking from his tip, popping your finger into your mouth. 

You moan at the slightly salty taste, moving your hand back down to finally grip him with care. He feels heavy in your palm, warm and pulsating and fucking desperate for you to start rythmically moving your hand. You twist your wrist and start to pump him, and a guttural groan rumbles from the confines of his chest. 

“Fuck, baby—yeah, just like that. So good.” He groans softly, brows furrowing as he leans down to kiss you. 

And you spend the next few minutes like that—making out with Joel while he teases your swollen clit, fingers briefly delving into your entrance before moving back out, and your hand slowly twisting up and down his silky flesh. 

Something about this was so sweet to you, albeit the act being promiscuous. You were taking your time with each other, savoring every moment you have now. God knows when you’ll be able to do this in peace again once you get back to Austin. 

Joel’s body tenses for a second before he pushes your hand away, chuckling in defeat. 

“Don’t wanna come yet, sweetheart.”

You nod in understanding and he slips his fingers away from your dripping heat, bringing them up to your mouth. You eagerly suck on his fingers, staring up at him in a way to say I want you. I’m ready to have you—if you’ll have me. 

Joel climbs on top of you once more, kissing your forehead. He nudges his nose against yours before looking at you again. 

“Wait, I didn’t bring any protection.” His shoulders deflate at the realization, and you can’t help but softly laugh. 

“I have an IUD, Joel. Only if you’re comfortable with going through with this, I’m right there with you.” You reassure him. 

He looks concerned for a second, hesitating as if his mind is running a million miles a minute. 

“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, cupping your cheek in his hand before kissing your nose. You nod with no hesitation. 

“Absolutely sure, Joel. I’m yours.” You whisper, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face before he leans down to kiss you. He swipes the head of his cock through your folds, stopping at your entrance. 

He separates his lips from yours once more, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” He says, and you nod. He hums in content, pushing himself into you slowly. 

You gasp at the stinging feeling, fingertips digging into the back of his shoulders. 

“There you go baby, that's it. Doin’ so well, pretty girl.” He praises, kissing your lips repeatedly as he reaches the hilt. 

The feeling is cosmic. The stretch is absolutely delicious. You whisper his name to him, threading your fingers through his hair once more in desperation as your meek voice finally found its way aloud. 

“Move, Joel. Please.” 

And he does. He starts off slow, rocking his hips into yours. The slide of his velvety length in and out of you is otherworldly. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he held onto the back of your neck, picking up his pace. He leans down to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly around your pert nipple as he continues rocking his hips into yours. 

Your moans are increasingly louder, not exactly giving a fuck who can hear you anymore. Your mind was solely consumed about the man ravishing your body in such a way that had you seeing stars. 

The weight of his body on yours, his soft groans, the heavy feeling of his cock, his scent, his curls—everything about him was all-consuming, and you loved it. 

“So pretty, baby. Feel so fuckin’ good. All mine.” Joel babbles, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. You try to grind your hips in sync with his expert thrusts, creating an almost unbearably pleasurable friction. 

Your hands fly to his back and you scratch down his skin, head flying back onto the pillows as you arch your back into him. 

“Joel, fuck, I’m so close.” You cry, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar flame burns bright within your core. 

“Me too, baby, fuck—where–where do you want me?” He asks, chest heaving as his thrusts become impossibly faster. 

“In me, Joel. Please.” Your plea is breathy and desperate, and you feel yourself teetering over the edge, devastating euphoria ripping through your body as your cunt convulses around his cock. 

You bury your face into his shoulder, crying out his name. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, I—” 

His spend is warm as he comes, buried in you as he groans your name breathlessly. He slumps down onto you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he rolls over on his side, taking you with him. He slips out of you slowly and you both groan at the loss of contact. 

You nuzzle into him as he kisses your forehead repeatedly, running his hand up and down your spine as you both come down from the high. 

“Fuck, that was—” You pause, and Joel chuckles. 

“Yeah, it really was.” He agrees, tipping your jaw up so he can kiss you chastely. 

Your eyes were heavy now, tracing his hairline down to his jaw and to his lips. He kisses your fingers as exhaustion consumes you both. He throws the comforter over your bodies and he gives you one last kiss. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” And if you weren’t in such a comatose-like state, you would’ve heard him softly whisper the words “I love you.” 

And if you would’ve heard those words, you would’ve said them right back. It might’ve scared the hell out of you, but you could no longer deny the fact—

You were, in fact, in love with Joel Miller, too. 

taglist: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg ; @pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin ; @kikaaauu ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @survivingandenduring ; @party-hearses

divider by @saradika-graphics

[deantfwinchester]

Late Nights

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, back on my Joel x Teacher!Reader shit (though her work hardly plays a role in this), established relationship

Summary: Getting home late is an unfortunately common occurrence in Joel’s line of work. When you both have busy days, it can be hard to find time to share, but you make do.

Warnings: extreme fluff, just utterly fucking saccharine at this point, is fluff without plot a tag?

——————

It’s Wednesday night. Joel’s night to cook dinner.

You get home earlier every day, no question. But since you like to take most every night during the summer months, he insisted on a 60/40 split during the school year. Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays are his. You had Tuesdays and Thursdays. Friday & Saturday are mainly for pizza, take out, or date-nights.

When he’d grill on Sunday afternoons, you liked to try and help him with prep, but he’d just pour you a glass of wine or mix you a drink and try to usher you out of the kitchen. You’d always sit and talk with him while he worked anyway. Sarah too, when she wasn’t working on homework or out with friends. It’s one of his favorite parts of the week.

On the nights he’d come home late, though, he always worried about leaving you to it. He was meant to be home cooking for the three of you while you relaxed, tried to let the stress of the school day roll off your back. He loved giving you that time.

This particular night, when six o’clock rolled around and he realized he still had a good hour or more on the site, he knew he needed to let you know he wouldn’t be timely with his return. Didn’t want you to worry.

You’re on the couch, grading. By this time of night, Joel’s normally taken the work from your hands and pulled your attention toward anything else. Noticing the room darkening, you wonder where he is, just as your phone dings:

Wednesday, October 7, 6:03 PM:

Sorry baby, gonna be later than I hoped tonight. Y’all don’t wait on me, okay?

Supposed to be my night too, dammit. I apologize, sweetheart.

You’d told him till you were blue in the face he didn’t need to apologize to you when he was the one having to work until long after dark. It never took.

You responded quickly, knowing his phone would be back in his pocket and forgotten again soon when his attention turned again to the work and his team.

Wednesday, October 7, 6:04 PM: (Outgoing)

Dont worry about it, sweetie. i promise i can handle dinner, just don’t work too hard and get home when you can ❤️

And take a break and drink some water, will ya? if that bottle ain’t empty yet, you haven’t had enough! see you soon, love.

He’d be dead on his feet when he walked through the door, that much you knew. And he’d have no business rifling around in the kitchen for something random he’d throw together, not substantial enough by far for a day of working like he’d been. You hopped up and started to the kitchen, determined to make a hearty meal for you and Sarah to share now, and to ensure Joel had a real meal when he finally made it home for the night.

————

A couple of hours had passed by the time Joel finally walked through the door. You’re back on the couch, this time reading a book while the lights from the tv danced softly in the dimly lit room, with a bare haze of sound playing at low volume.

It was nearly 8:30 when you heard the key turning in the door. Sarah had retired to her room for the night after dinner. She’d tried to help you clean the dishes, but you’d ushered her off to relax after spending most of the afternoon doing homework.

Joel trudges wearily through the door, shoulders slouched and eyes heavy-lidded when he thinks you can’t see him. The second he lays eyes on you, though, his posture straightens and his expression brightens, eyes opening a bit more as he lifts into a smile. Your expression mirrors his, and you sit up, closing your book and rising to meet him halfway. You practically speak over each other in greeting:

“Hi darlin’, how was your day?” he says.

“Hey honey, how’d it go today?” you ask.

You laugh a bit when you realize you’re asking the same question on top of each other, and he pulls you close, arms resting heavily around your waist. You drape yours around his neck as he leans down to kiss you. When you pull away to look at his face, you see past the tired smile he wears to the exhaustion etched in his face, settled in his drooping eyes.

You move one hand up, fiddling gently with the strands of hair at the back of his head. You smile and put light pressure on the base of his neck with your other hand, moving his head down to rest on your shoulder. He catches on instantly, and settles comfortably where you direct him. He nuzzles into the nape of your neck and you feel his eyes close against your collarbone, his warm fatigued breaths rhythmically grazing your chest.

You continue playing with his hair with one hand, while the other remains resting on the back of his neck. You turn your head to place a soft kiss to his temple and, after a moment of restful silence, quietly speak:

“You’re tired, huh? I missed you today.”

“Missed you too, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tightening his grip around your waist, and snuggling closer.

“You gotta be hungry. Got a plate waitin’ for ya in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?” you ask him, moving your hand down his neck to rub gently against his back. He breathes deeply in contentment at your comforting touch.

“No, I’m never leaving this spot. I live here now,” he says, and you feel the rumble of his voice against your chest. You chuckle lightly and speed up your ministrations, applying a bit more pressure as you discover the tightness of the muscles in his back.

“Mhm. And when was the last time you ate? Or drank anything for that matter?” you ask knowingly.

“Uhhhh, i guess it was, arou-“ he cuts himself off with a yawn, “around lunch time? Maybe one? Did finish that bottle like you asked, though,” and he smacks his lips lazily, somehow nuzzling further into your shoulder.

“Good, thank you. But lunch was seven hours ago now, so you need to eat something. Wanna start there? Or shower first?” you ask, chuckling a bit.

He raises his head a bit and squints at you, frowning playfully. “You sayin’ I smell, darlin’?” he mumbles, laughing into your shoulder.

You giggle in response before elaborating: “I’m saying you’re sweaty and would feel better if you rinsed the day off before crawling into bed.”

He sighs and rasps into your neck, “you changed the sheets didn’t you?” you feel a smile form against your chest.

“Sure did. So it’s food, shower, and bedtime. You can pick the order. Which first? Want me to grab your dinner?” you ask.

He sighs deeper this time, “What’s that thing about objects in motion and objects at rest or somethin’? Gonna keep doing whatever they already got goin’ on?”

You rumble a little laugh in return before responding. “I see. C’mon Newton, let’s keep ya moving. Go hop in the shower while I get your dinner ready.” You say, patting his cheek as he raises his head with a little groan.

You catch his eyes with your own and let your hand rest on his cheek. You move a thumb beneath his chin and pull him to you, giving him one last peck before ushering him down the hall. You pull his plate from the fridge and get to work on reheating his meal.

——————

He emerges less than ten minutes later smelling fresh and dressed in a clean t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants, padding into the kitchen just as you’re filling a glass of water to place next to his warmed plate. He rubs a fist into one eye, yawning again, and plops into a chair at the kitchen table.

You approach behind him, placing the glass on the table with one hand and rubbing his shoulder with the other. He lifts a hand to grab yours and squeeze as he takes a sip. His eyes reach up to meet your own.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, sweetheart. It was my night anyway, and now you’ve cooked and even put the damn plate in front of me,” he huffs.

“You don’t need to thank me, love” you respond, leaning down to kiss him again before taking the seat next to him with the glass of wine you’d poured to sip while you sat with him. You reach for his left hand where it rests on the table, and gently squeeze. He wraps his fingers around yours before you can retreat. Your fingers remain intertwined for the duration of the meal.

The two of you discussed the highlights of your respective days - roses and thorns, both too sleepy to bother with buds. When Joel finishes, you grab his plate to wash, but he takes it from you.

“No way are you washing my dishes too, honey. You’ve done enough already tonight,” he tries to insist. You’re not having it.

“Will you just let me take care of you, dummy? You’re bone tired, I can see it in those beautiful brown eyes. Here. How about this?” you rinse the plate and utensils, shove them quickly in the dishwasher, close it emphatically, and raise your empty hands.

He rolls his eyes, but relents with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever you say, darlin’,” he responds smiling, a bit bashful from the care and compliment.

“Good. Now c’mon, bedtime.” you say, taking his hand in yours once again and leading him to the bedroom.

“Whatever you want, baby” he grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You can’t help bellow a hearty laugh at that one.

“Jesus, like you could keep your eyes open, Miller,” you respond, as you pull the covers back and lead him onto the bed next to you. You settle back against the headboard and open your arms up, beckoning him into your lap. He shuffles closer and leans into your embrace.

“It was-“ he pauses, only to finish through a yawn “- worth a shot.” You chuckle quietly as he rests his head in your lap, eyes instantly slipping closed.

You turn on the tv, keeping the volume low. It’s only a little after 9, so still early for you to fall asleep. You would read, but you’d rather turn off the light, hoping the dimness in the room helps him get some good rest.

You lay one hand on his back and the other in his hair, both softly rubbing in comforting circles, and you feel him melt further into you. A familiar warmth fills your chest at the sight of him there, resting peacefully in your lap. You lean down and press one last kiss to his head before whispering to him.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“G’night, darlin’” he rumbles, muffled into your lap. You smile, one hand still on his back as the other reaches up, flicking off the lamp, before returning it to his hair. Your fingers gently massage his scalp, and within minutes, you hear his soft snores.

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet. 

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.  

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD. 

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

[atinylittlepain]

I am obsessed with the Dad!Joel Unexpected universe, please continue writing, it’s so good. Maybe a first word fic 🥹 and first steps! Love it all!

anonnnnnnn, first of all, i am SO sorry for how long it has taken me to answer this request. i swear, this sweet little blurb has been sitting in my docs for like two weeks and it just hasn't felt like the right time for it. but it's a thursday night and i think we could all use some dad!joel in our lives :)

High Expectations

dad!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Baby miller has yet to say her first word, and Joel and Ellie are still fighting over their bet. Who's gonna win?

warnings | 18+ uh, literally none, luv. this is pure grade-A fluff

a/n | this bad boy belongs to the Unexpected Expectings AU and I highly recommend giving those pieces a read too

.......................................

“She say anything today?” “Ellie.”

“What? I gotta stay in the know. The stakes are kinda high here.” She shakes her head at the girl, turning back to Maria to take a squirming Libby off her hands. Maria chuckles.

“Sorry, kid. No words on my watch. Though she’s becoming quite the escape artist now that she’s walking.” She furrows her brow at that as she hoists Libby a bit further up her hip.

“She wasn’t any trouble, was she? I know she’s becoming harder to catch. Took off on Joel upstairs yesterday, he had to grab her before she tried to go down the stairs on her own.” Ellie snorts, making faces at Libby over her shoulder while Maria shakes her head.

“No, she’s never any trouble, you know that. Though she’s certainly a pistol, gotta wonder where she gets it from.” They share a knowing smile before saying goodbye, her and Ellie trudging through the snow back across the way to their own house, Libby tucked into her side. 

Maria has been a godsend since she started picking up patrol shifts again, something Joel balked at initially. It was only a few days a week and she had been insistent that she needed to start getting out of the house again after their girl’s first birthday two months ago. Maria had willingly fit her own schedule around hers, watching Libby while she was on shift, and in turn, she had been watching her boy while Maria was working. 

When they get home, Ellie helps unbutton Libby from her makeshift winter coat that their neighbor had stitched together from an old snowsuit, continuously murmuring as she works.

“Libs, you gotta help me out here. There’s a record player on the line, for crying out loud. Tell you what, if you say my name first, I’ll let you listen to records whenever you want.” She fixes Ellie with an unamused look as she takes Libby from her.

“That’s generous of you, kid, considering you and Joel have turned her into a gambling chip.” Ellie just shrugs.

“It’s not gambling if I know I’m gonna win. No way Libs says Joel’s name first. I’ve been training her.” 

“Well, that’s cheating if I ever heard it.” They both turn around to see Joel standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his hands on his hips. He clearly just got home from his own shift, jacket still on, snow melting in his silvery hair. She shuffles over to him with a scoff and he immediately dips to press kisses to their girl’s cheeks.

“Joel, you’re one to talk. I’ve heard you up in the nursery a few times now, trying to get Libby to say your–” he cuts her off with a hard, smacking kiss that Ellie dramatically gags at before breezing past them both into the kitchen.

“I’m starving. What’s for dinner?” She shares a look with Joel at Ellie’s question, and they nearly answer simultaneously.

“Leftovers.”

…

Before the end of the world, she barely knew how to cook. She was a college student, for christ’s sake, and the closest she got to cooking was nuking instant oatmeal in the microwave in her dorm. Then, all those years in the QZ and on the road, it had just been about getting in whatever calories she could scrounge together. Things are different now in Jackson, and she’s had to learn fast how to get food on the table. Joel is helpful, but often hopeless, and Ellie would eat expired beefaroni for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if left to her own devices. Winter, like right now, is easy. She’ll just throw a bunch of vegetables and meat into a pot until something resembling soup comes together, enough to feed all of them for the week along with a loaf or two of bread she trades for with one of their neighbors. 

It’s just such a meal that they sit down to tonight, all of them tearing off hunks of bread to soak up broth and fill their stomachs as they murmur about their days. Baby food has been a whole other ball game, but she’s gotten the hang of it, currently spooning mashed carrots and applesauce into her girl’s mouth as Joel and Ellie continue to gripe about their bet.

“Kid, what do you even want the record player for? Last I checked, you don’t have any records.” Ellie huffs, speaking around a mouthful of bread.

“That’s not true! I’ve been looking for them on patrol and have a little stash going too. You just won’t acknowledge it ‘cause it’s not that country shit you like.” Joel grumbles.

“Language. And my taste in music is just fine. I don’t need any of that crappy pop jangling you like.”

“Uh, it’s not pop. The album sleeves say it’s alternative.” Joel huffs at that, mumbling a “lord help me” under his breath as they continue bickering. She, however, is trying to listen to Libby’s babbling through the nonstop din of their squabbling, because she swears that she hears something that will settle this damn bet, once and for all.

“Will you two shut up for a minute?” Her sudden outburst sends Joel and Ellie into a stuttering stop, Libby continuing to babble. She grins when, sure enough, her girl says exactly what she thought she heard.

“M-mama– mama.” She swears both Joel’s and Ellie’s jaws drop on the ground while she laughs, picking Libby up out of her highchair and smattering kisses on her cheeks. Her girl dissolving into giggles in her lap, she finally fixes Joel and Ellie with the smuggest look she can work up.

“Does this mean I get the record player?”

[gobaaby-blog-blog]

Smut that lives in my head - rent free. (Can someone teach me how to add unlimited links?)

(updated 10th Feb 2024)

The kitchen scene is haunting me. @atticrissfinch

I'm actually gonna use some lines in my real life 😁@javiscigarette

The premise? You want Joel to fuck a baby into you and he's read up about it to make sure it takes straight away? Hello, breeding kink. @chloeangelic

From the first scene, I was a goner. Fucking the hate out of each other is so hot. And the 3some scenes had me dreaming about it all night 🤣@lavendertales

The season two scenes, Jesus Christ, so hot. @swiftispunk

The cockpit scene after Doll tries to sacrifice herself again🥵😍 but also MASKED MAN? Hello. @justagalwhowrites

This is only series I re-read, and the greenhouse scene where reader and Tommy lock eyes, omg. @hier--soir

Curiosity, hate, being so similar, and the first kitchen scene 🥵@morning-star-joy

Idiots in love who waited 10 years to be together. Sugar's first time? Breeding kink? I'm in. @chiriwritesstuff

The bathroom scene when Joel comes back to her house 🥵 but basically any scene in this @chloeangelic

I think I see a pattern of office sex kink. CEO!Joel and commitment phobe PA.

https://macfrog.tumblr.com/post/724848521701982208/sex-on-fire-masterlist

[chloeangelic]

New line cook Joel tomorrow???

if one person dares me to do it ill post ch 4

[softstarlite]

Here are some fics that I really love!! <3

(I add more when I remember others or read new ones)

I also invite you to check my masterlist and read my stuff <3

Divider by @saradika-graphics and banner by me

Narcos

Javier Peña

Learning to live by @wheresarizona (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

The crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)

Javier Peña x OFC!Isabel

Deja vú by @ilovepedro (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Old habits die hard by @liltangerineart (series)

Javier Peña x latina f!reader

Take the weight off his shoulders by @thetriumphantpanda (series)

dbf!Javier Peña x f!reader

Late night texts by @undercoverpena (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Jealous of your love by @chloeangelic (one-shot)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Anytime by @undercoverpena (one-shot)

Javier Peña x f!reader

The Bubble

Dieter Bravo

Sweet Creature by @wildemaven (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

I'll never fall in love again by @oonajaeadira (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Cherry by @sp00kymulderr (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader x f!OC

Triple Frontier

Benny Miller

Wild Love by @wildemaven (series)

Benny Miller x single mom!reader

Frankie Morales

Learning curves by @ezrasbirdie (series)

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader

Hate me by @theewokingdead (one shot)

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Breaking free by @theewokingdead (one-shot)

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader

Hungry by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (one-shot)

Frankie Morales x reader

Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie (series)

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

The book of love by @undercoverpena

Frankie Morales x f!reader (Bookshop AU)

Santiago Garcia

If you wanna be wild by @romanarose (series)

Santi Garcia x f!reader x Javier Peña

All triple frontier boys

Awakening by @romanarose (series) triple

Frontier boys x f!reader

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

To the rescue by @romanarose (one-shot)

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Love me back by @chloeangelic (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rendezvous by @chloeangelic (series)

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Belong to me by @chloeangelic (series)

Line cook!Joel Miller x waitress reader

Reflection of the moon by @chloeangelic (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

(I just really love how Chloe writes Joel)

I know it when I see it by @bageldaddy (series)

pornstar!joel miller x f!reader

Lacy by @toxic-seduction (one-shot)

Joel Miller x f!reader

I wanna show you off by @joelscurls (one-shot)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Breakout by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)

Boxer!Joel Miller x f!reader

Strawberry wine by @pedrito-friskito (series)

Joel Miller x f!OC

Your summer dream by @swiftispunk (series)

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Dog Days by @pimosworld

Tommy Miller

Joel Miller x f!reader

Sweet Child O'Mine by @bageldaddy (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Wrong place, right time by @proxima-writes (one-shot)

Tommy Miller x waitressf!reader

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Five: Red Sky in Morning

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, adventure, alcohol, injuries, fluff, angst, smut (eventual), slowish burn. Reader is a badass. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). Additional warnings will be posted with each chapter as needed. No use of y/n.

AN: Any knowledge I have about yachts comes solely from watching Below Deck. I have zero sea legs and could not possibly work on a yacht. Same goes for medical treatment. Take it all with a grain of salt ;) Feedback is always appreciated, but never demanded. Hope you enjoy!

Series masterlist

Chapter Five: Red Sky in Morning

Hunched over the weather radar on the bridge, Joel pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his dark rimmed glasses. A line of storms would be moving through the area later and it was already choppy in the marina. It wasn’t looking good for getting out on the open water for the first day of charter and that always made it harder on the interior crew – they would be responsible for keeping the guests entertained without being able to use the water toys.

With a heavy sigh, Joel turned away from the radar. There was nothing he could do about the weather. He was beginning to feel equally hopeless about the status of whatever this was with you. Things did not go how he hoped the other night and you stuck to your word in keeping a distance from him. That wasn’t what he wanted, at all, but he didn’t know how to get you to understand.

Romantic feelings were confusing and made him feel incredibly vulnerable, which he hated. That’s why he tended to avoid them.

“Hey, Dad,” Sarah chirped as she entered the bridge, peering at the weather radar. “It’s not looking good for today, huh?”

“No, baby girl, it doesn’t,” Joel replied, eyes softening at the sight of his daughter. She always brightened his day, and he loved working with her. “It’ll be up to your crew to keep them entertained until at least tomorrow. Hopefully the weather will clear up by then.”

Sarah nodded confidently, her left hand pulling a small spiral notepad from her pocket. “About that, I’ve come up with a couple ideas of what we could do with the guests today. The primary’s a renowned food critic, right? I was thinking Tess could host a cooking class with Talia as her sous chef since she has some culinary talent. The guests could pair up and create a Caribbean-style dish for their dinner. In the meantime, we could do a blind tasting where the guests have to guess exotic flavors and whatnot. What do you think?”

Feeling his chest swell with pride, Joel’s lips twitched into a broad smile. “That sounds great, honey. You think Tess will be into it?”

Beaming back at him, Sarah snapped her notepad shut. “Already checked, Tess is onboard. Said she’d love the challenge of doing something different for once.”

He laughed, no doubt she would. “Good. Thank you for taking the initiative here. I’m really proud of you, Sar. I think the guests will love it.” Joel pulled her in for a tight hug, the warmth of the embrace relieving some of the stress he’d been feeling. “The guests should be arriving soon. Go finish getting ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The primary guest was a quirky woman in her fifties named Donna, with short, dark hair going naturally gray and laugh lines ringing her bright green eyes. She wore chunky purple glasses with a chain attached like an old librarian. She was boisterous and friendly with a deep laugh, the kind of woman who made friends everywhere she went. Donna was accompanied by her husband of thirty years, a mild-mannered man named Doug who appeared to be her exact opposite in all ways, and two other couples who had been long-time friends of theirs.

From the moment they stepped onto the yacht, the guests were unbothered by the weather and took it in stride when Joel informed them the yacht would remain in the marina until the next day.

“The crew has some fun activities planned to keep you entertained, though,” he finished, hand stretched out to direct their attention toward Sarah.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll give you a tour and show you to your rooms.” Sarah led them from the aft deck, explaining the layout of the yacht as she went.

Joel held Tommy back for a moment as you, Connor, and Ellie brought the luggage onboard once the guests were out of sight.

“Make sure your team is ready to assist interior with whatever they need, ok?”

“Of course, brother. We have their backs. Whoever isn’t tasked with helping inside will work on equipment maintenance in the lazarette,” Tommy explained. It was the perfect time to check the oil in the jet skis and tender along with any other fluid top-offs or changes on the equipment.

Joel patted his brother’s back with a solemn nod, his eyes tracking you as he turned to head for the bridge. You were looking down with a large piece of luggage in your arms and didn’t notice him. Jaw tensed, he ascended to the bridge deck with you occupying too much space in his mind.

“That’s the last of the luggage on, Tommy,” you called before heading for the guest cabins. Once the luggage was placed in the correct rooms, you headed toward the stern. Tommy reviewed his plan with you before the guests arrived, so you made your way to the lazarette beneath the aft deck.

“Hey Brit!” Tommy greeted you like he hadn’t seen you in a while when you stopped at his side in front of one of the jet skis. He’d recently taken to calling you Brit, instead of England, and it seemed to be catching on with the rest of the crew. “It’s short for British, get it?” he said the first time he used it. You heard that new nickname more than your real name now and it amused you.

“Hello Tommy,” you chuckled. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s check the oil first and see if anything needs to be topped off. We shouldn’t need to change it yet, but we will if we must,” Tommy explained. “It’s just going to be me and you. Ellie and Connor will be assisting the interior with anything they need.”

Perfectly content with that arrangement, you picked up the necessary tools to open one of the jet skis. You enjoyed the maintenance work even with the inherent messiness. You always wound up with oil under your fingernails no matter how careful you were, but you’d become a pro at washing it off after all the years spent helping your grandfather.

Pulling out his phone, Tommy played music while you set about your tasks. The pair of you worked well together, talking and teasing, singing off key to 90s rock the whole time. It was effortless, being yourself with Tommy, and you wondered why you couldn’t be falling for him instead of his brother. Tommy didn’t seem to have the same strict rules for himself that Joel did, and it would have been so much easier to be with him.

Unfortunately, the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and yours wanted a grumpy pain in the ass who made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Shaking yourself, you pushed away thoughts of Joel. You wasted enough time thinking about him, it was time to focus on something, anything else for a while. Steering clear of him physically was easier than you thought the past day and a half, but the emotional and mental distancing was proving far more difficult. The dreams that plagued you at night didn’t help, your subconscious incessantly teasing you with images of a life that you can’t have with Joel.

Picking up on your mood, Tommy did his best to distract you from your thoughts. You had no doubt that he already knew what happened and why you were down, knowing that Sarah or Tess, maybe even Joel himself, spoke to Tommy about it.

“’Kay, Brit. Let’s play a game,” he said while you were gathering the drip pan and some rags. The oil in one of the jet skis needed to be changed after all. It was time to get messy. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“What kind of game is this?” you asked, perplexed.

“Just pick the one you prefer. It’s not that difficult.” Tommy laughed.

“Er, ok. Chocolate.”

Satisfied, Tommy continued with his unusual little game. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, obviously.” Your eyes rolled so hard it made you dizzy.

“Dogs or cats?”

“I like both.”

“You can only pick one, Brit. Them’s the rules.”

“Fine. Dogs.”

The game continued for some time, Tommy’s broad grin growing the more you got into it. It was a great distraction, and you were eternally grateful to him for it. The afternoon passed as the pair of you continued to work and chat until Sarah’s call came over the radio asking for additional help setting up for the cooking class.

“The primary requested that some of the crew participate too. They want to make it a contest to see who makes the best dish,” Sarah explained when the two of you joined her after washing up. “I’ve already assigned pairs.”

Sarah’s expression was a perfect mix of determination and guilt as she looked down at the clipboard in her hands. She was up to something, and you would bet this week’s tip on what it was.

“Tommy, I paired you with Ellie,” she began, turning to you with a thin, hopeful smile and upturned brows. “Brit, you’ll be with my Dad.”

“Sarah,” Tommy warned on your behalf before you could respond. He spent hours working hard to lighten your mood and didn’t want the effort to go to waste. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, for obvious reasons.”

“It was the captain’s request, Uncle Tommy. Not much I could do,” Sarah explained with a shrug. Turning to you, she grabbed your hand in a soft grip. “I’m sorry. I think he’s trying to make things right between you two. Give him this chance?”

Just when you finally stop overthinking about him, he manages to reel you back in. Resigned to your fate, you nodded with a grimace. There wasn’t much you could do about it anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Due to the rain, a series of small cooking stations with a larger table at the front, where Tess and Talia would do the demonstrating, were setup in the main salon. Fairy lights were strung along the walls and ceiling, bringing a starry night effect inside the boat to make up for the weather outside. The yacht was slightly bobbing in the water due to the wind.

“Welcome to Cooking with Tess and Talia!” Tess greeted as the guests, Emmy, Connor, Ellie, Joel, and Tommy settled in their stations. You were the last to arrive, leaving Joel concerned that you really didn’t want to work with him. Despite it only being a couple of days, he was desperate to make things right, to have you speaking to him again. He couldn’t let himself be with you yet, but he didn’t want to be without you either.

Yes, he was keenly aware of the emotional roller coaster he created and how affected you were by it, but he could do nothing to stop it.

“Thanks for agreeing to be my partner,” Joel murmured once you were at his side, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile. He let all his feelings and things he could not say shine through his eyes, hoping you could see it when he gazed at you.

“I couldn’t very well deny a request from the captain, could I?” you returned, tone dull to hide your nerves and the lingering hurt feelings.

Joel sighed wearily. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he needed to just leave you be. The pair of you did your best to focus on the instructions Tess gave, though the distraction of being so close physically yet so distant emotionally was difficult to manage.

“We are going to make pernil, a classic Puerto Rican dish using roast pork shoulder. We will start with the marinade for the pork shoulder. While the pork is marinading and roasting in the oven, we will make the rice and desert. In all, this will take a few hours, then we will have a tasting to judge whose turned out best. Ready?”

Tess spoke through the steps, laying out the ingredients for the marinade as Talia demonstrated the process. Within the first few steps, Ellie and Tommy were already laughing and knocking things off their table as they jostled for who would get to add the ingredients first. Cooking was clearly not their strength, but at least they were having fun. Donna, the primary, and her husband concentrated with intense focus on their preparations, talking each other through the steps as they measured out the spices for the marinade. It was clear that they spent a lot of time working together in the kitchen. The other guests appeared to be having fun, chatting quietly, and laughing when they messed something up.

Joel spoke to you in soft murmurs as the pair of you worked together. Cooking was not your jam he could tell, but Joel was well versed, influenced by so many years of friendship with Tess and being a single parent wanting to do right by Sarah. He handled the ingredients and utensils with quiet confidence. You took direction well, passing him the items as requested, holding the bowl steady as he mixed the marinade, and finally brushing the liquid over the pork shoulder.

As the only ones not participating, Sammy and Sarah gathered the pork shoulders to bring to the galley to continue marinading before going in the oven in an hour. They returned with fresh adult beverages for the guests and waters for the crew as Tess segued into the next steps of preparing the dish, instructing everyone in chopping onions and peppers to go into the yellow rice. Each station was equipped with a rice cooker rented from the provisions company.

“This is actually kind of fun,” you admitted out of nowhere as Joel guided you in how to properly chop the vegetables, his large, warm hand covering your own on the knife. His heart swelled at that admission. Maybe there was hope after all.

“It’s a great activity to do together,” Joel replied, voice rough with repressed feelings. Oh how he wanted you to know that he would love to do this with you in his kitchen back in Austin someday, but it was not the time to share those types of thoughts.

Over the next hour, Tommy and Ellie spilled all of their rice on the floor, knocking them completely out of the little competition. Their hysterical laughter left the rest of the competitors with little doubt that they were sad about that fact. Joel’s deep brown eyes watched you smile broadly at their hijinks, his own lips quirking up at the sight.

“I hope you two know you’re on cleaning duty after this!” Joel called to them, a hint of teasing in his tone.

You loosened up after that, chatting a little more with Joel about the food you were both preparing and anything else that came to mind. You both studiously avoided the topic of your feelings for each other. Joel was just happy that you were having fun and speaking to him. He hoped it lasted beyond this activity.

“Have you ever had flan before?” Joel asked as the dessert preparations began.

“No, I’m not a huge dessert person. I’ve heard it’s good though,” you replied.

“It really is. I’ve made it before at home.”

“So, you are a big dessert guy then? Making homemade desserts in the off-season?”

Joel smiled with a nod. “Guilty. I enjoy cooking, have ever since Sarah came along and gave me a reason to learn how to do it well.” He loved sharing this with you, both the cooking and the details about each other.

By the time the pernil was ready to eat, everyone was giddy with hunger. Conversation and teasing were boisterous as everyone moved between the stations to taste the dishes, noting the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) differences between them all. A vote was taken, and Tess announced the winner once everyone had eaten their fill.

“It was really close, but it looks like Donna and Doug are the winners! Joel and Brit were a close second, but that just means they were the first losers,” Tess teased while the guests cheered.

As the guests moved to the seating area in the main salon, the crew dispersed to start cleanup duties.

“Nice work, Cap,” you said, flashing Joel a small smile as you scurried away, headed to the galley with a pile of dirty dishes in your arms. After spending the past few hours so close to Joel, the yearning for him was overwhelming and you needed some time away from him, and everyone else. Dish duty in the galley would be perfect for that.

“Hey, wait! I, uh, was hoping we could…” And, once again, you were gone before he could finish a sentence. It was a habit of yours that he was beginning to seriously dislike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was early, possibly pre-sunrise though it was hard to tell down on the crew deck, when Sarah ducked into your cabin and plopped her overly perky self on your bunk. “Morning sunshine!”

“Too loud. Take your noise and be gone, you witch!” you grumbled, burying your head beneath the covers.

The bunk above you creaked and Tess’ head peered over the edge, her long locks hanging down in waves. “Aww, come on, Brit. Let the girl have her fun.”

“I know what she’s trying to do, Tess and I want no part of it.” Your voice was muffled by the blanket, taking the edge off your tone.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Sarah whined. “My dad seemed so happy last night. He loves to cook and it’s clear he enjoyed showing off his skills for you.”

“He’s obviously very good at it,” you admitted reluctantly, fingertips edging the blanket down a bit.

“Don’t I know it.” Sarah’s dark eyes, the ones that reminded you so much of her father’s, narrowed mischievously. “You know, you two were the actual winners last night.”

Brows furrowed; you pulled the blanket down to fully expose your face and stared at Sarah. “What are you talking about? Donna and Doug were the winners.”

“She’s right, Brit. Joel told me before the event to skew the results to make sure one of the guests won,” Tess admitted. “The primaries were actually second place.”

Hmmm, that certainly sounded like Joel. He was too humble.

“See, I told you he was worth the effort. You need to give him a chance.” Sarah’s voice was pleading, smile hopeful.

Sighing, you sat up and placed a hand on hers where it rested on your bed. “Sar, there’s no point when he won’t give me a chance. I’m not the problem here.”

“He’ll come around; I promise,” Sarah insisted. Tess nodded in agreement and the two women stared at you with insane smiles.

“Your eternal optimism is disturbing.” Falling back against your pillow, you pulled the blanket back over your head. “Don’t you two have work to do? I’m on late shift today, so I need a few more hours of sleep.”

Slipping in your earbuds, you tried your best to ignore thoughts of Joel as you drifted off to sleep once again. The weather had calmed overnight, and the yacht was already anchored at sea when you awoke a few hours later. After a quick breakfast, you arrived on deck to start your shift. The rest of the deck crew was already busy unloading the water toys and you jumped in to assist.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” Tommy greeted you with a charming smile. “Can you help us put the jet skis in the water? Ellie’s on the davit controls today.”

“Hey Tommy,” you bumped his shoulder as you passed, smiling brightly in return. “Of course.”               

Connor was already by the davit, connecting the lines to ready the first jet ski. You checked the connections and patted him on the back. Pulling one of the support lines tight, Tommy gave a thumbs up and both you and Connor grabbed the remaining lines, pulling them taut.

“Ok, El! Take it away, slow!” Tommy called.

Ellie’s brow pinched in concentration, fingers working the controls to first lift the jet ski off the deck, then extend it over the rail and lower it towards the water. She had been practicing lately, working on controlling the davit with finesse rather than jerky movements and too much speed. The last thing Ellie wanted was to be responsible for damaging the yacht or any of its equipment, so she wanted to be proficient at using the davit.

Eyes darting between the jet ski and Ellie, strong grip keeping your line tight, you were impressed with the smoothness of movement from Ellie’s handling of the davit. The only jostling was from the wind rather than the davit itself. The first jet ski went down without issue and Connor jumped into the water to drive the jet ski to the swim platform and tie it off.

“Connor man, stay down there. The next one is coming in a minute,” Tommy called out. “No sense coming back up here with how smooth that one went.”

The three of you repeated the process with the second jet ski while Connor waited on the swim platform. It was a little less steady this time, but the jet ski landed smoothly on the water, bobbing along with the ripples. Once again, Connor jumped into the water to disconnect the davit lines. Before he could release the rear line, the wake of a passing boat jostled the jet ski. Connor didn’t see it coming and it threw off his balance, his right arm extending instinctively to steady himself against the yacht’s hull.

His wet hand gave way against the slick surface as another wave lifted the jet ski and Connor toppled off the machine. It happened so fast, you and Tommy watching from the deck, when the waves hit. You were already jumping over the rail, plummeting into the water when Connor’s head bounced off the hull.

The tender was already in the water, having been the first thing the deck team offloaded before you joined them on deck, and Tommy sprinted down to the swim platform to jump into the small boat as Ellie frantically called for help over the radio. When you surfaced, you were grateful you landed nearby and Connor was wearing a lifejacket as he bobbed face down in the turquoise water, the slamming of his head against the yacht having knocked him out cold. You reached him in seconds, turning him over so his face was no longer submerged. He wasn’t breathing.

The tender appeared at your side, Tommy reaching over to pull you both aboard. He shouted up to Ellie to get in the water and secure the jet ski while you started CPR, and he steered the tender back to the swim platform where Joel was waiting. By your estimate, Connor was face down in the water for no more than 30 seconds, if that, and his breathing resumed after a dozen chest compressions. However, he remained unconscious, and you checked Connor over, noting a gash on his forehead and a broken left forearm. Flattening your palm over the gash, you attempted to stem the flow of blood.

Sarah appeared on the swim platform and assisted her dad in tying off the tender while Tommy helped you delicately bring Connor onto the yacht. “Help is on the way, should be here in a few minutes,” Joel declared. “Is he breathing?”

You nodded, breathless from the adrenaline rush, and placed the clean rag Sammy rushed to hand you to Connor’s forehead. “He’s still unconscious and has a broken arm,” Tommy spoke for you, his comforting hand clutching your shoulder.

“Shit,” Joel swore, his voice immediately drowned by the sound of a siren as a rescue boat approached.

You stumbled back, sliding down to sit on the platform as the rescue team took over. You were soaked, hands covered in Connor’s blood, a chill wracking your body as the last dregs of adrenaline dispersed. You watched, wide-eyed, as Connor was transported to the rescue vessel. Once the vessel departed, Joel rushed over to you, bending down to meet your gaze.

“Are you okay?” He spoke your name softly, his hands running over your head, shoulders, and arms, checking for any injuries. Joel’s touch left a trail of searing heat on your skin. The shivering was uncontrollable, and you stuttered out a positive response indicating you were ok. “Thank fuck,” he breathed, pulling you into an uncharacteristic hug, his body warm and strong against yours. You clutched to him like a lifeline as he led you inside and down to the crew deck. Once in your cabin, he turned the shower on and let the water heat up.

“Can you manage by yourself? Or do you want me to get Sarah or Tess?”

“I-I can manage, just need to warm up.” Slipping into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click, you shed your wet clothes and climbed into the shower, steam rising around you. The immediate relief from the warmth of the water left you groaning.

“I’m going to send Sarah down to keep an eye on you. She’ll call me if you need anything. I have to get back to the guests,” Joel called through the door, hesitation in his voice like he didn’t want to leave you.

“Ok. Thank you, Joel,” you called back, grateful for him in that moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Joel was certain that you were going to be alright, his heart rate finally settled. Checking in with the guests to let them know what happened was easier than he anticipated – they were understandably concerned about the crew, specifically Connor’s condition, having witnessed at least part of the incident. Donna insisted that they were content to lounge on the sundeck and relax in the hot tub for the day to let the crew settle their nerves after the traumatic events.

On his way to the bridge, Joel also checked in with Tommy and the rest of the crew to make sure they were ok. Emmy was the most concerned, having grown close to the young man over the past few weeks. Talia comforted her as Joel reiterated the importance of safety awareness and let them all have an extended break while the guests relaxed.

“Join me on the bridge?” he looked to Tommy as he turned to exit the main salon. The brothers walked in silence until they were on the bridge where they were quickly joined by Frank. “So, we’re down a man on the deck crew. Early report on Connor is that he won’t be returning with that broken arm. I’ll reach out to the staffing agency to get a new deckhand.”

Tommy nodded. “In the meantime, we’ll work with a three-person crew.” It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last. He always made it work.

“I’m happy to lend a hand where needed, Tommy,” Frank added. “It’d be good to get my hands dirty again.”

“Well, that’s settled then. I need to make a couple calls. Keep an eye on the crew?” Frank and Tommy assured Joel they had everything under control and left the bridge as Joel called the agency.

“Hi Marcia, it’s Captain Joel on Radiance. Listen, I need a deckhand asap.” Pausing to listen to her response, he added, “Any experience level is fine at this point.” Marcia assured him she’d be back in touch within an hour and ended the call.

Feeling like things were back under his control again, Joel settled into the captain’s chair with a heavy sigh. What a fucking day. Between yesterday’s bad weather and the events of today, this charter seemed doomed from the start, but at least the guests were laid back. The vibration of his phone drew Joel from his maudlin thoughts to find a text from Sarah.

Brit is all set. She’s resting for a bit and will be back on deck in an hour. She’s such a bad ass!

The grin that spread across his lips was involuntary at the mere mention of you and how highly his daughter thought of you.

Thanks baby girl. You doing okay?

I’m fine, Dad. You okay?

It’s been a day already, but I’m good.

Love you.

Love you too baby girl.

The phone was still in his hand when it rang moments later. “Marcia, what’s the good word?” Joel stood from the chair, nervous energy making him need to move around. “That was quick work! He can start tomorrow, great! That’s one less thing to worry about.”

After discussing a few more details, Joel thanked Marcia for her help. They’d have a new deckhand onboard tomorrow morning. Perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were holed up on the bridge on overnight anchor watch, gaze hovering over the weather radar to keep an eye on the wind speed. The wind picked up again as the evening went on and Joel was concerned the anchor would drag, so you were dedicated to anchor watch as you were already scheduled for the late shift.

After the day’s events, you were content to sit on the quiet bridge while everyone else slept. Normally, you would bring a book or your earbuds and listen to some music to keep yourself entertained during the quiet hours, but tonight the silence was soothing. The night sky was clear, the sparkle of a thousand stars shining down around a half-moon making you feel like you could be anywhere in the world.

Only one thought attempted to distract you – Joel’s presence in the captain’s quarters right behind the bridge. He was in there, deep asleep, dreaming God knows what and all you could think about was what it would be like being in there with him.

The way he cared for you earlier, held you after Connor’s rescue, made you forget about your plan to steer clear of him for a while. It was a losing battle when he was right there.

Perhaps you should just resign yourself to pining over the man and leave it at that. No other potential solutions were working anyway.

At four o’clock in the morning, you heard the creak of a door followed by the heavy padding of bare feet on the floor. Turning your head to the side, Joel emerged from around the corner and your heart melted to a puddle at the sight of his bedhead. Despite being forty years old, he looked like a grumpy little boy with the sleepy frown marring his face, hair askew, pouty lips drawn in a wide yawn.

You couldn’t stop yourself beaming at him, now knowing what he looked like when first waking up. It was endearing as all hell.

Squinted eyes met yours in the darkness and the bridge brightened just from the smile in his gaze. Joel was just as happy to see you as you were to see him. This mutual pining thing was no joke.

“G’morning,” he mumbled, sliding in beside you at the small table along the wall behind the captain’s chair. “Everythin’ going good?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, basking in the press of his sleepy warmth against your right side. “Just peachy.”

“Hmm, good.” Joel tilted his head back against the wall, still half asleep and you wondered why he was even up.

“What are you doing up so early?”

His head lolled toward you, dark eyes shining in the low light emanating from the helm. “I could hear you thinking out here and just wanted to be near you… make sure you were ok.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, searching his eyes for confirmation of what you just heard. It was another crest on this never-ending roller coaster with Joel Miller. “I’m ok. Just lots to think about, you know?”

“I do,” his head bobbed. “I figured we could think about it together.”

TBC

[jolapeno]

I am DESPERATELY waiting for tomorrow’s chapter [I love your Frankie] 😝 but just wondered what you are reading right now?

is it okay that I am eagerly excited to show you all it, especially as we have a special guest 👀 and I—

yeah I’m gonna shut up. let you know what you came here for.

in terms of what I’m reading (I’m just going to include the series — all one shots you can see in the fic recs):

• stay in bed (joel miller) by @psychedelic-ink — I am in LOVE with this series and more people need to be reading and come talk to me about how amazing it is.

• the checklist (joel miller) + take the weight off his shoulders (javi p) by @thetriumphantpanda — both of these are amazing. the checklist is blowing my mind and take the weight off (I know things and it’s good)

• paranoid heart (javi p) by @goodwithcheese — my heart, this pair are amazing and it’s so spicy, and I love megan’s writing so much and so thankful we met.

• headshots (marcus p) by @secretelephanttattoo — this is such a cute and wonderful story and marcus is so dreamy in this! a must read!

• delta palms tropical resort (frankie) by @linzels-blog — I discovered this on AO3 first, binged and harassed the author the next day hahah. I want to visit.

• table for two (frankie) by @hellishjoel — line cook frankie really does it for me, and it’s the best balance of smut and angst.

• delta landscaping (multi) by @rhoorl — if you’re looking for an AU where the TF boys start a business and a neighbourhood chat is started, read this! pls.

• into the beat of the night (frankie) by @perotovar — this is such a unique premise, and I am so excited to see how it all unfolds

notable mentions: señorita by @lavendertales (on hiatus) + your summer dream season two by @swiftispunk (it’s not out but this is a notable mention section)

I am so sorry if I miss anyone, I realise half my links are actually broken 😭

[mof17]

please more apocalypse au please pretty please

(I almost fell out of my chair and broke my neck from how happy I got seeing this lol)

So so for the Aau, there’s a lot to explain. But I should get the ground rules of before the infection that spreads (this is technically an infection AU but eh, apocalypse seems more fitting)(this AU was in help with one of my friends in the beginning of it)

so- let me just dig deep into my Google doc real quick

Before the apocalypse starts, life is normal. There’s a small town, which has most of the characters mentioned in the entirety of the characters living in it.

scar lives with the clockers (minus etho, he left, BUT he will show up later…)(also his attire is his normal skin, BEFORE the apocalypse begins)

(I will be making a post as to why his outfit changes into what was seen in the drawing I made)

grian lives with Pearl (Who is a college student)

Pearl is very much into arts and crafts, so they tend to have very bizarre stuff around the apartment (like gas masks from when Pearl would spray paint things)

gem works at a diner, with Skizz being a cook and Tango being a waiter (alongside Gem)

the four of them don’t know each other EXCEPT Grian and Scar

(Scar, Grian, Pearl, and Gem are pretty much the main four, although more people join on in later)

who used to be in the same middle school and sat next to each other in math class. They would talk occasionally, mainly just Grian helping Scar read the problems and make sense of them or just lending a pencil to one or the other.

one day, Scar gets bullied heavily (it usually happens, but it’s more of a tease). Why does he usually get teased? Because he brings Jellie to school, who is licensed as his emotional support animal and the school just doesn’t care if Jellie is there or not.

but this time, someone took is too far. We’ll call this guy ‘bully’

bully gets a bit psychical taking a book binder from Scar’s bag and tracing it along his face, saying some things, the cut draws blood (and eventually turns into a scar later on in his life)

but out of nowhere, the bully get shoved into the ground, by who? None other than Grian! Grian is one of the only hybrids in the school, him being an Avian, or more specifically Macaw, he draws a lot of attention. see, the town isn’t exactly fond of Hybrids, it’s more discriminatory than most places. So the chances of the bully getting expelled is lower than Grian getting expelled

Grian continues to fight the bully, and the bully fights back

it’s eventually broken up by a teacher, and they’re sent to the office. Grian gets expelled, and is never seen again by Scar

that is until a faithful day in his senior year, where after school, he goes to Theatre, the only place he’s really accepted in. Ren is the teacher.

As Ren is teaching the Theatre club and gives them just a scenario to get a feel for the play they’ll be doing (a mock of third life)

the people in the theatre club include

Scar (18)

tango (19)

Mumbo (on sound)(18)

Katherine (yes, she’s here, it’s important I have to include Nature wives in here somehow, but that’s all of Empires that will be in this AU probably. Other than that, it’s a mix of the life series and Hermitcraft)(18)(set)

Joel(18) (EYYY IT’S THE ONE WITH THE EGO!)

and more

They all take turns being the “lead” in this script, Joel voltuneers to go first

as they’re performing lines, Joel happened to forget a prop, so he calls out to someone who is sitting by the prop table that’s next to Ren’s desk.

that someone happens to be Grian, Grian panics as he didn’t expect to be called on or spoken to at all during this. He throws the prop (a wooden sword) and accidentally hits Scar in the head (Sound familiar? COUGH first death COUGH lol)

Scar passes out and luckily, he doesn’t get a concussion because author logic. While he passes out, there’s a flashback scene (AKA THE FIGHT FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL THAT WAS STATED EARLIER :D)

Scar wakes up and sees Grian, who is apologising but Scar’s ears are ringing, he points to Grian and just says “You look familiar…” and then closes his eyes again. When he wakes up, Theatre is about over and there’s an ice bag on his head and the mysterious “stranger” (grian) that he saw, is now gone. Scar goes up to Ren, and talks to him about him

Ren mentions that that was a brother of a friend from college (Pearl). He tells Scar that he doesn’t go to school and is technically homeschooled but borrows stuff from here. Ren also let’s Scar know that Grian feels like he owes Scar a favour or anything because he feels bad that he hit him in the head with a wooden sword.

Scar leaves the class with Jellie and his stuff and takes the bus home, on the way home he can’t help but think about what favour he would owe this guy, or if he’d ever see him again?

he goes home and Cleo asks him about his day, he brushes it off as a normal one, but it really wasn’t. Scar lays on his bed, too tired to change and ends up falling asleep.

(Then there’s a time skip, but that should be saved for a whole different post)

that’s basically like a prologue I guess? Idk, I can turn this into a proper Ao3 chapter, and maybe have a whole fic for this

this whole thing was taken out of my doc, from the section labeled “CHAPTER PLANS” lololol

[eyesfullofsttars]

★ Masterlist !

— SERIES!

☆ and they were roommates. . .

abby, a medical student diving into her training classes, and ellie, an artist grappling with her astrophysics studies, share an apartment where the line between friendship and romance starts to blur with an unusual tension.

☆ everywhere you go, i will follow. . .

in the tranquil town of stars hollow, abigail anderson finds solace in her books, immersed in the peace of her surroundings. however, her orderly life takes an unexpected turn with the arrival of ellie williams, a turbulent force of chaos.

☆ with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con. . .

the farm chores have become increasingly challenging for ellie's favorite dinosaur, joel miller. he seeks abigail's help to handle the tasks effectively and to provide company for his kiddo. (although ellie seems to dislike the idea)

— HEADCANONS!

☆ ellie and abby sleeping together. . .

some small headcanons of ellie and abby sleeping together and what it's like for them to share a bed in a more modern au!

☆ abby and ellie being moms to a baby boy

a few headcanons of ellie and abigail being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details.

☆ you know how to ball, i know aristotle. . .

headcanons about abby and ellie being college girlfriends! abby, a basketball player, and ellie, studying literature and philosophy, complement each other so perfectly.

☆ ellie filming a yt vid baking with abby. . .

small & short headcanon of ellie with her youtube channel filming a cooking video baking cookies with her gf abby!

— ONESHOTS!

☆ i've waited here for you, everlong. . .

ellie williams, the guitarist of lost in the darkness, has questionable methods for handling her stage fright, which results in an accident where abigail anderson, a medical student, has to intervene.

☆ can we always be this close?

since abby and ellie moved in together, abs has been having trouble sleeping next to her girlfriend. so, one night she decides to stay awake to figure out the problem...

☆ i can't decide if it's a choice getting swept away, i hear the sound of my own voice asking you to stay. . .

the beginning of the relationship between duchess abigail and the new viscountess ellie seems complicated by their own prejudices against each other, causing animosity. although, as they get to know each other better, they may be able to find a middle ground, right?

☆ i can still recall our last summer!

the last summer before growing up and going separate ways, abby and ellie try to make the most of at least one last day at the lake before it all just becomes a summer love memory.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIPS ON WIPS ON WIPS

So... over the last week or three, I've been tagged *checks notes* NINE (9) times in various wip posts, and I responded to *checks notes unnecessarily* NONE (0) of them. 🤦🏻‍♀️I am so sorry to everyone who tagged me for not responding sooner, I very much appreciate the tags and the interest/support. My brain has been down the drain for a while, so I've not really had anything worth sharing. BUT! I'm fixing that right here, right now, because better one to three weeks late than never, right?

Last Line Tags:

1- @something-tofightfor tagged me after sharing an upcoming part of Fool's Gold (which I have been LUCKY enough to read a few parts ahead on, and let me tell you guys, we're all in for a TREAT with this story), specifically looking for Jack or Marcus snippets. So let's go with the cowboy, shall we?

“I read you, Jack.” You waited a beat, heart slamming at your ribcage as you stared at the back of his seat in front of you. “Everything alright?” Well that’s a dumb question that I already know the answer to.  He let out a small humorless laugh that sounded far too flat to come from the man you knew. “Oh, just peachy.” You winced, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice. “Listen, I know Champ and Ginger want you to stick with me on this one. But I…” He swore under his breath. “I need you to stay with the Pony when we land. Can you promise me that?”  What? Your eyes flew open, brow creased with confusion. “That’s not…” You shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Jack, that would be a violation of a direct order. I can’t-”  

2- @djarins-cyare tagged me in a sneak peek of a Din story she's working on, so I figured I'd reciprocate with some tin can man of my own.

You gasped as you stepped out from the cavern, mouth dropping open and eyes going wide as you took in the sight of the open sky, illuminated by Concordia’s silvery green glow, for the first time in your life. It’s real. You took another step, chin tilted upwards as you spun in a slow circle. A tear rolled down your cheek and slipped over your lip, your tongue flicking out to lick it away. It’s… “Beautiful,” you whispered. 

3- @oonajaeadira tagged me when she shared a snippet of Leave Off Your Wandering, which I cannot wait to catch up with because I adore that story so so much. The next thing I have cooking in my own Joel story is actually an Ellie interlude, so let's see what that girl is up to.

The faces that graced the pages of her notebook were all familiar ones, all people that mattered, all people that she loved. Working cameras were scarce in Jackson, and finding film for them wasn’t exactly easy either. But even if she could indiscriminately snap photos of everyone she cared about, she’d still opt to sketch them instead. To her it was a labor of love, capturing their features as she saw them through her eyes, using her own hand to create each likeness.  Joel on the porch steps with his guitar. Dina smirking with her arms crossed. Jesse with his teasing grin. There was a sketch of her and Kat from when they were together that still made Ellie smile even though they’d decided to go back to being friends. She’d even drawn scenes and images of things she’d seen around town or out on patrols. There was a whole page in one of her earlier books dedicated to her birthday trip to the Wyoming Museum of Science and History, including a side by side comparison of Tommy and the thick-skulled dinosaur that Joel swore was the spitting image of his brother. 

4- @burntheedges spoiled us by sharing TWO snippets - one of Girl Dad Frankie and one of Ballet AU Din (which I am very interested in, btw) and since I already shared some Din, let's see what I have for Francisco. (this is from a very nebulous wip for a Dog Rescue AU)

Standing from his desk and crossing his arms loosely over his chest, Frankie shifted his weight to one leg and called over his shoulder. “Hey, Ben?”  “Yeah?” The other man’s footsteps grew closer until he was standing in the doorway, one hand leaning on the frame. “You need somethin’? What’s- oh.” Frankie moved aside so Benny could see what - and who - he was looking at. “Well I’ll be goddamned.” The grin he wore was audible, causing Frankie to roll his eyes. Cocky little shit. “Guess I was right. She came back.”  “Yeah,” he said, letting out a small huff that was just as much astonishment as it was amusement. She sure did. He watched as you finished parking in the same spot you’d pulled into two days earlier, directly next to his truck, and then pulled a box out of the back seat. 

5- @stealyourblorbos tagged me in some wip drawings of Miguel O'Hara - a character who I only know through and because of her stunning artwork of him - and what I know I like very much. Gonna be *vague* here and post a couple bullet points from notes of something foolish I'm working on:

You’re co-starring in an action movie with Dieter. It’s your first time working together, but you get along really well and have instant chemistry. 

You’ve already filmed ⅓ of the movie - including a pretty hot sex scene - and now you’re working on scenes involving stunts and SFX.

Out Of Context Line Tags:

6- @littlemisspascal tagged me and shared a mystery snippet, so here I come with a mystery of my own. (this is fun. it's like tossing a confusion grenade and running away laughing.)

Normally, this was where he would veer away from the truth or else avoid it by changing the topic. It was a defense mechanism, putting up fences so tall he couldn’t be seen. In his mind, there was no point in delving into such deep character analysis. Not when the expiration date was already stamped on whatever skeletal relationship he was in with the mere asking of such a personal question

7- @burntheedges tagged me again but this time with no context. So I trade you one secret for another, Kate!

Despite the fact that you hadn’t fallen asleep until well after two in the morning, you were wide awake before sunrise the following day. For a moment, when you first blinked your eyes open, you thought - hoped - that it had all been a very vivid dream.

8- @keldabe-kriff came in hot with something that I truly have no context for, so in that vein, here you go.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Joel.” She plopped down on the seat beside him, drawing one leg up and resting it over his thigh. Hands coming up to the sides of her face, she blew out a breath that broke into a laugh. “Two offers? I-”  She laughed again, stopping only when he reached over to encircle one of her wrists with his fingers, pulling it down and away from her face. “I can.”

9- @rulexofxnines tagged me and shared a moodboard for an upcoming fic, and while I don't have a moodboard, here's the main inspo picture for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May server challenge that I've been fiddling with:

THANK YOU AGAIN TO EVERYONE WHO TAGGED ME!!! I promise I am digging myself out of this deep funk and things are going to start moving again!!

[mariatesstruther]

okay WAIT an eloise at christmastime x tlou au in which tommy and joel miller work at the plaza hotel to support their niece sarah, who gets to live at the plaza in exchange. ellie lives there too, for the same reasons—anna is working there as a line cook, and the plaza’s owner has allowed both of them to stay for as long as they need. tess is their general manager, and maria is the owner’s daughter, a law student at columbia who stays at the plaza to help out her father when she has the time

the plaza is owned by hank moreau, a hotel mogul who made a legacy being the first black man to own and manage the plaza through his longstanding hospitality company. he employed anna, joel, tommy, and tess at the plaza when he took-over, both as a thanks and as recognition for their hard work at his other hotels for years

okay so the actual plot: maria is coming back in town because she’s engaged and set to be married at the plaza, but her fiancé is actually a douchebag and tricking her into thinking he loves her so that he can steal her and hank’s money. sarah and ellie find this out somehow, probably hear him bragging about his plan to his buddies over poker as they sneak around in the adults-only area if the hotel. and theyre like!!!!!!! absolutely!!!!! fucking!!!!! not!!!!!!! we NEED to stop this guy!!!!!

exposition and maria/tommy first meeting under the cut 🫶🏾

sarah and ellie have known maria for years, since they were both little girls that had just moved into the plaza and maria had invited them both up to her penthouse suite for snacks and movies. she told them all the best places to hide, the best days to get free food from the banquet and the days to avoid, as well as who to go if they ever need help—including her, tess, and her father. point is, the girls love maria. they’ve always loved maria. so theyr’e Not Fucking with this Fiancée Asshole or this farce of a wedding

they also know that tommy is in love with maria, has been basically since the moment the two met, which was just a few weeks before that first sleepover. sarah and ellie were there to witness it all: they’d been messing around with tommy’s tool cart as he went through rooms and lame parts of the hotel to fix shit. sarah had sent ellie flying down the hall with it right as maria had been walking around the corner—ellie crashed into maria so hard, she’d been knocked into the wall behind her, the folder full of papers she’d been holding flying all over the place

tommy, sarah, and ellie had all winced at the crash. at that point, they were all new and nervous to be there, and they knew who maria was by name but had yet to meet her. still, without knowing who she was, all of them knew fucking around in front of the guests was the number one way to get kicked out of the plaza.

“jesus, girls. mira por donde vas!” tommy had immediately gone over to where she was on the floor, offering her his hand, expecting her to be pissed and for his and joel’s chance to give sarah a better future to go straight down the drain he’d just fixed.

but then he’d heard her start to laugh. and it was the most glorious giggle he’d ever heard. maria smiled up at tommy from the ground, papers fallen around her like snowfall and bringing out the sparkling white of her teeth—he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with her right then and there.

“ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, reverently taking the small, perfectly-manicured hand she’d slipped into his and pulling her up gently. “i am so, so fuckin’ sorry for that—i mean, uh—i apologize for them. think the girls got a lil’ too carried away.” the last part had been expressed pointedly over his shoulder at ellie and sarah, who were standing shyly by his cart with childlike embarrassment on both their faces.

“no, it’s fine, i’m just fine. no need to be sorry,” maria’s still laughing by the time she gets up, smiling right up into tommy’s face and—wow, is she beautiful. he doesn’t remember ever being stunned by anyone this much in his whole life. she’s got long, beautiful locs with loosely-curled hair at the ends, falling long down past her waist like rapunzel. wearing a short pink blazer dress and matching heeled loafers, she’s a confusing yet dazzling combination of intimidating and adorable. tommy feels the heat of her hand in his even after she lets go. “i may have needed the laugh, honestly. thanks, girls.” she directs the words to ellie and sarah kindly and genuinely, and tommy feels himself immediately warm to her as he watches the anxiety on their faces ease from over his shoulder.

“sorry for knocking the shit out of you, lady,” ellie says, and he cringes.

luckily, it only serves to make maria laugh once more, and the woman lifts a hand to wave away the apology. “i wasn’t watching where i was walking, anyway. my fault,” she insists kindly, then turns her attention back to tommy. he finds he likes being under the weight of her sharp, pretty brown eyes. “the real problem here is that i don’t recognize you guys, and i recognize everyone. are you new? i’m maria. maria moreau.”

“oh, shit,” tommy can’t stop himself from saying. he feels sarah and ellie both turn their eyes to him, instantly picking up on his nerves. he can see the amusement on maria’s face at his clear and shocked recognition. he immediately goes down to start picking up her fallen papers, hands fumbling as fast as his words. “we really are so, so sorry, ma’am, and didn’t mean to disturb your day. we don’t do this often at all, i promise ya. i just needed to watch them the girls while i took care of an emergency repair, so—,”

“jesus, cowboy, calm down,” maria cut him off immediately, voice amused and her smirk melting into a pleased, charmed smile. to tommy’s surprise, she drops right down to the floor next to him and starts collecting her papers beside him, uttering a small thank-you as he passes her the ones he’d already picked up. “i told you already, i needed a laugh. don’t worry about it.”

“so i won’t have to worry about your father comin’ to my door and firing me for nearly knockin’ the head off his daughter?” tommy’s tone is joking and light, but there is clear underlying anxiety in his voice as he asks. the quip is said low enough that neither sarah and ellie hear, the girls talking behind them as they pick up the few tools knocked from tommy’s cart in it’s collision.

“not if i have anything to say about it,” maria says, her tone light but serious. she gives him a long, pointed once-over that he can’t help but interpret as flirting, a blush heating up his face before he can control himself. “i really don’t recognize you at all, cowboy. i was right about you being new, wasn’t i?”

“yes, ma’am.”

“what’s your name?”

“tommy,” he responds as they both get up. at first, they end up just a tad too close, so he takes a polite step back as he hands her the last of her papers.

“tommy,” maria repeats back to him, and he feels a rush of something shoot up his spine, forcing him to stand up straighter and taller, at the sound of his name from her lips. she must notice, because she smirks at him knowingly as she holds her messy folder to his chest. “you don’t have to worry about a thing. i think i’d like to keep you around.”

and she had—well, her father had, technically. but maria had remained close friends with the millers and the williams for years, always treating sarah and ellie with gifts, stopping by the halls to talk with joel while he fixed pipes or by the kitchen to hang with anna while she did her prep—and always speaking, joking, and flirting with tommy every chance she got. they never became anything official; mostly because, according to joel and anna, tommy was always too chickenshit to ask her out. by the time maria finished her ADA training and moved out of state, tommy was surely in love with her but equally determined not to hold her back. he always wanted the best for her and believed she deserved far better than the maintenance man at her father’s hotel, so he held his tongue. she left. then she comes back with a complete douchebag of a fucking fiancée, set to be married at the plaza on christmas

and it’s up to sarah and ellie to stop the motherfucking wedding

for my mariatommy lovers, specifically @ameerawrites @bumblepony @clickergossip and @liveandletcry23

[dilf-din]

Yeehawgust Day 16: Prairie Fire

TLOU (Western AU)

WC: 2150

Rating: T

Characters: Joel and Sarah

Warnings: angst, made up barn jargon, light language

A/N: this one turned out much longer than I was originally planning, but I think it’s one of my favorites I’ve ever written for them. Take a shot for Sarah Miller tonight

We like to think we know what we’ll be like in a crisis.

“I’ll keep a level head,” we tell ourselves, “Rise up and be a leader.” We’ve all seen the movies, and we’re not going to be the guy who chokes, becomes dead weight and stands, mouth agape at the tragedy unfolding before him. We’ll be quick and concise, the picture of cool. Thankfully, most of us never get the chance to prove ourselves in that way. Mundanity prevails.

For Sarah Miller, though, that day came one particularly hot and dry July afternoon. Twenty one years old, wild as a weed, sweet as a rose. She was loved by people and animals alike. Her gentle demeanor and soft smile won over every pair of eyes that drifted her way.

That summer had been dry. They were always dry, but daddy said the valley hadn’t seen a drought like that in forty years. He had been a teenager then, tall and broad shouldered. Work was hard to come by that season, everyone’s crops yielding nothing but shriveled roots and dusty, dry soil. It took years for the town to bounce back. Their normal trade routes halted for lack of bargaining power, and being a poor settlement, they had no extra money to pay for the processed foods to take the place of the missing crops. Everyone’s mama got creative with cooking that year, finding ways to stretch supplies and fill the bellies of their hard working families.

Today, they were in a better place to withstand a hit like that. Every harvest, each farmer put aside a portion for canning and pickling, making a sizable stockpile for everyone to live off of should scarcity hit again. Sarah had just finished picking up a few cans of corn and potatoes in town to last them through the end of the week. Her curly hair was pulled into a loose braid at the nape of her neck, and a crisp white hat sat perched upon her head. Somehow she managed to keep it spotless no matter what trouble she got into. The cans were tucked into a bag hanging at her waist, clinking against each other with each step Erebus took, his black coat shining with sweat in the sun. Her eyes rose to scan the azure skies, not a trace of a cloud to detract from the deep blue, an ocean taunting the dry earth below, the land cracked and groaning.

Beads of sweat lined her neck and clung to her collarbones like an adornment of pearls gifted by the sun. Her cheeks held a constant rosy flush this time of year.

“Let’s get home,” she whispered down to the stallion, running a hand over his broad neck.

They set off at a leisurely pace, no need to tire him out when it was already so hot. Her mind wandered as they rode in silence down the lane. She was making a mental checklist of things that needed to be done at home, the fence that needed repairing, the horses that needed shoes. She was pulled from her thoughts when she caught a whiff of smoke in the air. The acrid smell of burning wood caused her face to sour as she looked for the source. A plume of smoke danced through the air, like a river disappearing into nothing, jagged edges dividing the sky into two crude halves.

“No,” she whispered, “Gotta go, boy,” she dug her heels into the horse’s sides and tightened her grip on the reins as he broke into a gallop. Her breath sat like a coil in her throat. She did her best to not let it break out into a fit of hyperventilation. She didn’t even know if it was their house yet, figured panicking now wouldn’t do a lick of good.

Erebus’s hooves pounded the hard ground, sending clouds of dust up with each hit. The cans collided into her hip bones with each stride, sure to leave deep purple bruises that she could worry about tomorrow. Her sight was set on the line where the sky met the scorched earth, the trail of smoke becoming wider with each second. As they crested the last hill before their home, she pulled back on the reigns, slowing Erebus. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears while she inhaled one more time, preparing herself for the sight below. With a few more steps, she was able to peer at the scene unfolding ahead, and for a few seconds, the pounding in her head was dead silent. Their barn was up in flames. Starting at the back and quickly making its way to the front. Her dad was at Uncle Tommy’s today helping with Lucy, who was foaling. She’d have a few minutes at best to get the animals out and call for help.

She swallowed down her fear and hopped off of Erebus. Her feet carried her swiftly to the barn’s red doors, swinging them open with one big pull. A gust of hot air almost knocked her flat on her back. Smoke stung her green eyes, drawing tears instantly. She twisted them into barely a squint while they adjusted to the hazy scene in front of her. The flames had crawled all the way up the back wall and halfway across the beam running across the center of the roof. They licked wildly at the aged wood, kissing it black with ash before pulling it into the blaze. The animals were panicking, a cacophony of squeals fighting for dominance over the crackling of wood and flames.

Sarah dipped her handkerchief into a water bucket by the door and tied it snugly over her nose to try to keep some of the smoke out. Within seconds, she was unlatching stall doors and slapping haunches to direct the frightened animals out the doors and into the sun. Four horses, two donkeys, three cows. She counted over and over in her mind as she ventured closer to the blazing heat of the flames to open the last pens. The beam overhead buckled with a loud crack, splintering as it rained sparks down over her. The ash was thick in the air the further in she went. Coughs racked her lungs, the soaked cloth providing almost no protection against the thick smoke. Their oldest donkey was nowhere to be seen.

“Missy!” she screamed through a hoarse voice. She could barely hear herself over the all encompassing growl of the flames, like she was in the belly of a dragon looking for the light to follow out. Her vision was clouded was a wall of bright yellow tinged with grey, her head spinning as she realized her oxygen was quickly depleting. She looked in the last stall to find Missy cowering in the corner, panic and flames reflecting in her big brown eyes.

Sarah’s hand reached for the latch of the door, but instantly recoiled as the skin of her fingers burned and blistered. Her eyes searched for anything she could use to knock it loose. The glint of her father’s axe caught her eye, silver steel feigning golden in the light, the handle obscured by some fallen boards. Using the toe of her boot, she freed the tool and pulled it within arm’s reach. With one hard blow, she brought the blade down across the latch, successfully freeing the door. Missy came careening out braying wildly, long limbs scrambling for footing. Sarah pushed her towards the entrance with firm hands, doing a once over before heading in the same direction. The overhead beam gave one final, sickening groan before coming down hard. One crash, and everything was black.

“Thanks for stoppin’ by. I figured she’d have trouble with this one since the last labor was so hard on her,” Tommy said gazing down at the new chestnut foal trying to get his legs under him.

“‘S’alright, better safe than sorry,” Joel grinned at the new life taking its first steps before them.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head out. Got a feeling home needs me for some reason.”

Tommy nodded, “See ya ‘round, hermano.”

Joel clapped him on the shoulder before retreating from the barn. Amara stood out front, still saddled and bridled, chewing on some hay. Her long, white tail flicked at flies lazily while Joel hauled himself into the saddle.

“Let’s get home, old girl,” he clicked his tongue, guiding her towards the gate of Tommy’s ranch and down the path to their house. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, something had felt off in his spirit when he left. Like he had a storm circling in the pit of his stomach, threatening to pull him inward. The ride between their houses was only about twelve minutes. Halfway there, he heard frantic barking, and sped up to find Bud, their black and white border collie howling wildly and whining. When he saw Joel, he took off running in the direction of their home. It was then that Joel saw the smoke. The wind had shifted directions, blowing it west towards Tommy’s.

“Oh no,” Joel let out. He followed Bud with thundering hoofbeats carrying him. Although, with the adrenaline he felt rushing through his veins and humming under his skin, he bet he could’ve outrun any horse that day.

Everything was chaos. Smoke was thick in the air before he even approached the barn. Animals were running frantically while Bud did his best to head them off and keep them within the property lines. If the animals were out here, that means someone had to have freed them.

“Sarah!” Joel’s voice bellowed as he searched the sea of four legged bodies, not seeing a sign of her. He barreled into the barn and screamed for her again. By now, the flames had completely taken down the back wall. The light blue of the sky peeked in in several places contrasting the bright orange and yellow and pieces of charred wood. The stalls all the way up to the middle of the barn were now burning, and the roof creaked coming out like a wail, a promise that she would hold on as long as she could.

Joel lungs were already overcome with ash, coughs coming hard and fast, bringing more tears to his already stinging eyes.

“Sarah!” he called again as loud as he could muster.

Then he saw her. A white peek of her hat like a halo in the middle of a war zone. Part of the ceiling beam had seemingly come down on her, knocking her unconscious. She looked so small. His baby girl, the thing that made life worth living. He was on his knees in an instant assessing the damage. He saw her chest rising, and thanked the Lord that she was still breathing. She was trapped beneath the beam though the weight of it wasn’t resting on her. It had gotten caught on the edge of one of the stalls keeping it a mere few inches off of her. Any closer and it would’ve snapped her spine. He pulled her out by her hands and swung her limp body into his arms. One strong arm under the bend of her knees, one gently cradling her neck. The heat weighed him down as he pushed out and towards the light.

A group of nearby neighbors were making their way down the path when he emerged from the inferno. Comforting hands were on them in an instant, pulling them further away, offering water and medical attention. The sting of the sun against her eyelids stirred Sarah from her slumber and pulled her back into consciousness.

“Dad?” she asked in a groggy voice.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Save your voice. We’re gonna get you some help.”

She gave him a weak smile and closed her eyes once more.

“I got everyone out.”

“I know baby, I’m so proud of you,” Joel said, his throat raw from just a few minutes of smoke inhalation. He wondered how she must be feeling, how long she had been there.

“I got you baby. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, a wave of his own tears clouding his vision this time as someone approached them with oxygen masks and makeshift cots to lie down on.

Loud as thunder echoing across the plains, the barn gave in, roof crashing down on top of empty stalls and old tools. They would’ve lost everything that day if it hadn’t been for Sarah. And truthfully, Joel still would have lost everything if he hadn’t gotten there when he did. He looked over at her skin, tinted grey from the ash, and slipped his hand down to take hers into it. With eyes still closed, she gave him three quick squeezes that set his heart at ease.

“I love you too, kiddo,” he said, mostly to himself.