A taste of honey, chapter one.
Summary: "If I cannot love you openly like I wish, if I cannot hold your hand when walking or wrap you in my arms late at night... Then I will love you silently, in my mind and behind closed eyes. For there, there is no rejection or heartbreak. And surely it is better to love silently than to not love at all?"
Joel Miller was supposed to be untouchable. He’s your father’s best friend after all, a constant fixture in your life, and the man whose daughter you happily babysit.
But when your father tries to play matchmaker between you and Joel’s oldest son, the carefully constructed boundaries between you and Joel begin to fracture. The sudden, suffocating wave of Joel's jealousy changes everything, sparking a dangerous, intoxicating shift in the way he looks at you, touches you, and breathes your name.
Suddenly, the unspoken truth is too loud to ignore. But in a world where every boundary is being pushed to its limit, can a love born in the shadows survive the light?
‘Isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?’
‘I love you. Even if the Fates unraveled our destiny, I would still find my way back to you.’
Word count for this chapter: 4,806
Content & Warnings
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Tropes: Age Gap (twenty years), Dad’s Best Friend, Forced Proximity, Mutual Yearning, Unspoken Attraction, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Grief & Loss.
Warnings / Kinks: Mentions of parent death/grief, light swearing, subtle flirtation, sexual tension, eye contact, unrequited feelings (for now), protective Joel Miller. (Will post more kinks and tags as the story develops, no spoilers for you guys!)
Main tags: Joel Miller, Joel Miller x Reader, Dad’s Best Friend Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Jealous Joel Miller, Texas Heat, Slow Burn, Family Dynamics, Teen Sarah Miller, Joel Millers son- Jake Miller- omc, Readers dad-omc.
Chapter one.
The cardboard box in your hands was taped up so heavily it looked like a hostage situation, but you still had to lean your entire body weight into it just to keep the bottom from tearing open.
Six months. It had been six agonizing months since the phone call that cut your life clean in half, a slick stretch of highway somewhere outside Savannah, a hydroplaning sedan, and a police chaplain using words like instantaneous to describe your mother’s death. You’d spent the aftermath rotting away in your tiny off campus apartment near Emory University, staring at the ceiling, letting calls go to voicemail, and ultimately failing every class you were enrolled in until the dean gently suggested a leave of absence.
Your dad, in his infinite, unyielding wisdom, had eventually driven all the way down to Georgia, walked into your apartment, packed up your entire life into the back of your beaten up pickup truck, and told you that sitting alone in the dark wasn't going to bring her back. So, here you were. Back in Texas. Back in the house you used to only visit during humid summer breaks and frantic Christmas vacations after the divorce.
“I’m just saying, if you put the heavy ones on the tail gate first, you won’t blow out your back before we even hit the front porch, old man.” you muttered, wiping a sweat slicked strand of hair out of your eyes as you shoved another box toward the truck's edge.
“My back is fine,” your dad grunted, wiping his brow with a grease stained rag. “I build houses for a livin’, kiddo. I think I know how to lift a box of... what even is in here?”
“Just... textbooks,” you muttered, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your wrist and nudging the heavy cardboard box toward the edge of the tailgate. “Careful with that one.”
Your dad dropped his end with a heavy thud, wiping his brow again. “What’d you pack in here, lead bricks?”
“I took three semesters of literature, Dad. Yes.”
Before he could give you another round of grief, a familiar truck engine rumbled down the street. A beat up black Ford pulled into the driveway across from yours, the gravel crunching under the tires.
The driver's side door swung open, and Joel Miller stepped out, hitching his belt up as he stretched his back.
Your chest went tight.
You hadn’t seen him in six months, not since the day of your mom’s funeral back in Georgia. After the funeral everyone came over for a potluck. You’d spent that whole afternoon locked in the bathroom at your moms house, sitting on the tile floor hyperventilating, until Joel walked in, sat down next to you without saying a word, and pulled you against his shoulder until you could breathe again.
You hadn’t talked to him since.
Panic spiking, you instantly spun around, leaning deep into the bed of your truck and pretending to be deeply fascinated by a roll of packing tape.
“Hey! Joel!” your dad shouted, cupping a hand over his mouth. “Get over here and help us out!”
Jesus, Dad.
“Dad, stop,” you hissed under your breath, turning around with a glare. “We’re fine. He literally just got home from work, leave him alone.”
“Ah, he’s fine,” your dad waved off.
Heavy footsteps crossed the street. Before you could drag the next box over to prove a point, a broad shadow fell across the truck bed.
“’Course I can help,” Joel said. His voice was lower than you remembered, quiet, raspy, that slow Texas drawl brushing over you like warm air. He leaned against the side of the truck, throwing a look over at you. “How you holdin’ up, sweet pea?”
You rolled your eyes, pulling your chin up to act completely unbothered. “I’m twenty three, Joel. I think we can drop the ten year old nickname.”
Joel’s mouth twitched, just a faint, quick little smirk in the corner of his mustache. “Mm.. Right. My bad.”
“That big one’s hers,” your dad said, nodding toward the crate of textbooks. “Good luck with it.”
Joel rolled his flannel sleeves up to his elbows, exposing arms that were tan, scarred, and way too fucking big for your peace of mind. He reached into the truck bed, hooked his fingers under the box handles, and lifted it without even straining.
You stared for a second too long, watching the way his arms tensed up, the size of him standing right next to you… He’s fucking massive… Huge.. and oh so broad… Before catching yourself and looking away.
Get it together.
You grabbed a duffle bag and hitched it over your shoulder.
“Alright, I’ll get the door.”
“Rushing inside so you don't gotta carry anything heavy, huh?” Joel muttered, turning to follow you up the porch steps.
“It’s called delegating, Joel,” you said over your shoulder, holding the screen door open with your foot so he could haul the box inside. “Work smarter, not harder.”
He let out a low huff behind you, his breath warm against the back of your neck as he passed. “Still got that smart ass mouth I see, hm?”
An hour later, your room looked like a cardboard maze, and every muscle in your back was aching.
The heat had settled into that thick, suffocating late afternoon lull. Joel hadn't said much while you three carried the rest of your life up those stairs, just kept his head down and put his work in. But you couldn't help yourself. Every time he carried another heavy box past you, your eyes betrayed you. You watched a single drop of sweat trace its way down the sharp line of his jaw, watched the sun hit the broad stretch of his back, the muscles in his forearms glistening as he hauled another crate like it weighed nothing at all.
When the last box was finally dragged inside, you practically crawled out to the front porch, collapsing onto the top step and letting your head rest back against the wooden railing with a long groan.
Inside, the screen door slapped shut as your dad hit the kitchen. “Either of you want anything?” he called out, his voice muffled through the mesh.
Joel was just stepping out onto the porch, wiping his brow with the back of his arm.
“A beer, please,” you and Joel yelled at the exact same time.
Joel paused, letting out a low snort as he looked down at you. “What? You drinkin’ now, sweet pea?”
You sat up, giving him a flat, sideways glare. “Stop callin’ me that, Joel. And yeah, I drink. I’ve been old enough to drink for a while now.”
He gave a low, gruff, “Mhm,” not looking particularly convinced, before he lowered himself onto the wooden step beside you.
He sat so close your shoulders nearly brushed. A sudden spike of heat hit your cheeks, your pulse hammering behind your ears as you peeked sideways at him. Joel was staring out toward the street, a faint, almost imperceptible twitch tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your eyes slipped down, just for a second too long, lingering on his lips.
You snapped your gaze back up to his eyes, only to realize he’d turned his head and was looking right back at you.
For a long, heavy second, neither of you said a word. The quiet hung thick between you, charged and entirely too warm.
Your dad cleared his throat loudly, screen door kicking open as he stepped out onto the porch.
“Here’s your beers.”
He handed a bottle to Joel and tossed one down to you before swinging himself over the side railing, jumping down to the front lawn with a loud, heavy grunt that sounded like a bag of wet cement landing on the grass.
“Jesus, Dad, careful before you break a damn hip,” you muttered, immediately pressing the cold glass bottle against your flushed cheek, praying to God the icy chill would take the redness blooming across your face away.
Beside you, Joel let out a low laugh, taking a slow swig of his beer.
You snapped your head toward him, narrowing your eyes.
“Oh, I’m not sure what you’re laughin’ at. You’d break a hip, too, old man.”
Joel stopped mid sip, his eyes dropping down to meet yours. The quiet amusement in his face shifted, something darker and far heavier flickering in his eyes as he held your gaze.
Your heart did a frantic, uneven skip against your ribs.
Trying to diffuse the sudden, suffocating shift in the air, you let out a dry little laugh and leaned over, nudging your shoulder gently against his arm.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
Joel didn't pull away. He just held your eyes for a beat longer before nudging you back, a firm, quiet bump of his heavy shoulder against yours.
Off in the grass, your dad cracked his own beer open, taking a long drink and looking up at the two of you with a wide, fond grin.
“Man,” your dad sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re back, kid. God, I missed this.”
You chuckled softly, opening your mouth to agree, to tell him you missed it, too, when the quiet hum of an engine cut you off.
A glossy, newer black truck pulled into Joel’s driveway across the street. Joel immediately stood up, almost too fast, clearing his throat and setting his beer down on the railing. “Kids are back,” he muttered.
Your dad leaned back against the porch post, a sly little smirk touching his mouth. “Ah, man. You haven’t seen Jake in what, a year? And Sarah... well, not since...”
“Yeah, Dad. I know. Thanks,” you cut in quietly, the words dropping like a weight in your chest.
You hadn't seen Sarah since the funeral. A sharp pang of guilt twisted in your stomach at the thought. You’d basically helped raise that girl, she was your miniature best friend growing up, always tagging along at your heels. But in the aftermath of losing your mom, you’d completely shut down and locked everyone out.
As for Jake, you liked him fine enough, but you hadn't really kept up with him lately. You knew he’d turned twenty-one a few months back. Mostly, your memories of him involved him being an absolute pest, pulling your hair, sabotaging whatever you and Sarah were doing, and that one summer where he shoved a live frog down the front of your swimsuit.
The truck doors clicked open. The second Sarah stepped out, her eyes landed on you, and her face completely lit up.
She screamed your name, taking off running across the asphalt.
“Sarah, watch for cars!” Joel barked from the steps, his voice stern, though he was already stepping down toward the driveway.
She had turned thirteen while you were gone, and it showed. She was taller now, losing that gangly, awkward kid phase, but the wild, puffy mop of curls on her head was still distinctly her.
Behind her, Jake ambled out of the truck, closing the door with a slow, deliberate swing. He wore a simple t-shirt, worn jeans, and boots, a lazy, cocky smirk plastered across his face. He’d filled out, he was handsome, carrying a lot of Joel’s sharp features and dark, wavy hair, even if he walked with a casual, easygoing gait instead of his dad’s heavy, measured stride.
You stood up from the wooden step, throwing your arms wide open right as Sarah hit the bottom of the porch and threw herself into you.
The force of her hitting your chest nearly knocked you off balance, making you stumble backward, until a thick, heavy hand slammed flat against the center of your back, steadying you instantly.
A spike of heat shot down your spine from where Joel’s palm pressed through your shirt. He held you firm for a second, his touch warm and protective, before pulling his hand away as soon as you had your footing.
You forced yourself to shake it off, shoving the sudden jitter in your pulse deep down, and wrapped your arms tight around Sarah. You squeezed her close, burying your face in her hair and pressing a long, hard kiss to the top of her head.
“God, look at you!” you laughed into her hair, pulling back just enough to look at her face. “You grew like three feet!”
Jake ambled up the steps, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “Look who finally decided to come back to Texas,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
He leaned in and gave you a slightly awkward, one armed side hug. As Jake’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, your eyes happened to land on Joel.
He was staring off down the street, jaw tight, looking away as if the sight of the two of you was deeply uninteresting. Beside him, your dad was watching the interaction with a huge, ridiculously wide grin plastered across his face.
You pulled back from Jake, throwing your dad a deeply confused look. What is his problem?
“Tell you what,” your dad announced, clapping his hands together. “We oughta all go grab dinner. Celebrate you gettin’ moved in.”
You hesitated for a second, but your stomach betrayed you with a faint rumble. “Where are we going?”
“That burger joint down on 4th, I know it’s your favorite, sweet pea.” your dad offered.
Your eyes lit up. You hadn't had a burger from that place in ages, and the thought of it instantly won you over. “Okay, yeah. Fine. I’m starving.”
“I can drive,” Joel offered, reaching into his pocket for his keys.
“I’ll ride with Joel!” your dad piped up instantly, way too enthusiastically, before Joel could even unlock his doors. He pointed a finger at you. “You ride with Jake and Sarah!”
You blinked, looking between your dad and Joel.
“...Okay, weirdo.”
Joel just gave a faint shrug, his expression unreadable as your dad practically sprinted over to get into the passenger seat of his truck.
You rolled your eyes, trailing behind Jake and Sarah as you all headed toward his glossy black pickup.
Sarah scrambled straight into the back, and you climbed into the front passenger seat while Jake smoothly slid behind the wheel.
The interior smelled like brand new leather and pine tree air freshener.
“Wow, fancy truck you got here, Jake,” you said, adjusting the air vent blowing cool air onto your face.
Jake looked over, a proud smile breaking across his face as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.
“Yep. Got it last month. Been workin’ full time with Dad the last year, so I was finally able to save up for this bad boy.”
You let out an exaggerated groan. “Did you seriously just call your truck a ‘bad boy’?”
“What!” Jake laughed, pulling out of the driveway. “This thing’s a beast.”
You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in, and Sarah chimed in right from the backseat. “You are such a loser, Jake!”
Jake put on a playful, offended pout in the rearview mirror.
“You both better knock it off before you find a frog in your swim shorts again this summer.”
“Don’t you dare,” you laughed, reaching over to flip him off and give his shoulder a firm push.
He grinned, easing the truck onto the main road.
Okay, so maybe he wasn't so bad anymore. If anything, he was kind of endearing. But as you watched him drive, a weird, unsettling knot formed in your stomach. Why did thinking of Jake that way feel so... wrong?
Almost instantly, your mind betrayed you, drifting right back to the truck behind you. To Joel. The low, gravelly tone of his voice. The way his dark hair curled at the back of his neck. The heavy, dark way he’d looked at you on the porch steps, and the heat of his palm pressed against your back.
A sudden shiver ran down your spine.
Jake glanced over at you, catching the movement.
“You cold? I can turn the AC down.”
“No, sorry,” you said quickly, clearing your throat and forcing a small smile. “Just... got a random shiver.”
“Gotcha,” Jake nodded easily, turning his attention back to the road.
When Jake pulled into the diner lot, he cut the engine and scrambled out of his seat so fast he was at your passenger door before you even had your hand on the handle. He pulled it open with a dramatic flourish.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Oh, ever the gentleman.”
“Only the best for you, ma'am,” Jake said, playfully extending his hand out to help you down.
You pressed a hand over your heart, putting on a faint, aristocratic gasp. “Why, thank you, sir!”
Both of you broke out laughing as you took his hand to step out of the high truck. But as your boots hit the pavement, your eyes bounced past Jake’s shoulder, and landed right on Joel.
He was standing by his truck, jaw clamped so tight you could see the muscle ticking in his cheek, staring straight at the two of you holding hands.
The second your eyes met his, he snapped his head away, unbuttoning his collar like the air had suddenly gotten too hot.
Your stomach plummeted. You dropped Jake’s hand instantly.
What the fuck?
Jake looked down at his empty hand, a flash of something hurt crossing his features, but he shook it off with a quick swallow. “Come on, let’s get inside before my dad orders for everybody.”
The burger joint was packed, warm, and smelled like grease and grilled onions. You all slid into a wide booth near the back, you sat squeezed between Jake and Sarah on one side, with Joel and your dad across from you.
Joel was unusually quiet. He barely said two words while everyone looked over the laminated menus, staring down at the table or out the window.
He’s just exhausted, you reasoned with yourself. He worked a full day in the Texas heat and then spent two hours hauling your heavy ass boxes up the stairs.
Sarah, on the other hand, had enough energy for the entire restaurant. The moment our orders were placed, she launched into a breathless, mile a minute interrogation.
“Can I come over tomorrow? Can we go to the pool? Can we go to the mall this weekend and get our nails done? I found this design on Pinterest I really want to try, but Dad says it’s too expensive unless I do chores, but you’ll take me, right? Please say yes!”
It was genuinely endearing, her words tumbling out so fast she was practically choking on her own tongue. You were just about to answer when Joel’s low voice cut right through the noise.
“Sarah. Sweetheart, let her breathe for a second.”
Sarah instantly deflated, looking sheepish as she bit her lip. “Sorry... I’m just excited.”
“Knock it off, Joel,” you scolded him immediately, shooting him a sharp glare across the table. “She’s fine.”
Joel rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he picked up his water glass. “Was just tryin’ to help.”
You shook your head at him, turning back to Sarah with a warm smile. “I would love to do all of that, babe. Just give me a couple of days to unpack and settle in, and we’ll make a whole day of it, okay?”
Sarah nodded eagerly, her bright grin bouncing right back.
The food hit the table a few minutes later, massive, dripping burgers and mountains of hot fries.
Everyone dug in like they hadn't eaten in days. You were halfway through your burger when your eyes betrayingly strayed across the table again.
Joel was holding his burger in one hand, leaning his elbow on the wood. A stray drop of sauce had caught on his thumb, he brought it to his mouth, his tongue licking it clean.
Your lips parted slightly, your brain momentarily short circuiting at the sight.
Joel’s eyes flicked up right then, catching you staring at his mouth.
Panicked, you tore your eyes away, grabbed your drink, and took a massive, desperate gulp of soda, which immediately went down the entirely wrong pipe.
You burst into a coughing fit, thumping your own chest as your eyes watered. Beside you, Jake instantly started rubbing your back, slapping your shoulder gently. “Woah, woah, slow down! You alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you wheezed, wiping a tear from your eye and letting out an embarrassed laugh as your face burned red. “Just... went down the wrong pipe.”
Across the table, Joel was staring at you, his glass held halfway to his mouth, his dark gaze heavy, unblinking, and entirely unreadable.
When the check arrived, you immediately reached for your purse, but Joel’s hand slammed down on the middle of the bill before you could even unzip it.
“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.
You tried arguing, begging to at least cover your own meal or throw down tip money, but your dad and Joel flat out refused, splitting the bill between the two of them while ignoring your protests entirely.
Outside, your dad piled back into Joel’s truck, but as Jake unlocked his doors, he turned to you and Sarah with a raised eyebrow. “You guys down to get some ice cream?”
Sarah bounced on her heels. “Yes!”
“Honestly? Always,” you admitted, sliding back into the passenger seat.
He drove to the local ice cream parlor down the road. You got dark chocolate, Sarah chose bright blue bubble gum, and Jake went with strawberry.
The evening air had cooled down just enough to be bearable, the sky turning a bruised shade of purple over the parking lot. You were leaning back against the wooden picnic table, legs swinging casually over the bench.
“Alright, let me try,” Sarah demanded, leaning across the table and thrusting her bright blue spoon toward your cup without an ounce of shame.
“You’re gonna ruin my icecream with your bubblegum. You’re gonna turn blue, kid,” you said, but you tilted the cup toward her anyway, letting her dig out a massive bite.
“I’m thirteen, I can turn whatever color I want,” she shot back, popping the spoon in her mouth and closing her eyes dramatically. “Mmm. Okay, respect. Dark chocolate is actually good.”
“Told you,” you smirked, taking a bite of your own. “I have refined taste. Unlike some people who order pink ice cream.”
Jake let out an offended gasp, resting his elbow on the table and leaning his chin in his hand, looking at you with a slow, lopsided grin. “Hey, strawberry is a classic. Besides, it matches my sweet personality.”
“Your personality is about as sweet as soured milk,” Sarah muttered around her spoon.
“Nobody asked you, ya lil’ shit,” Jake said, not taking his eyes off you. His knee brushed against yours under the wooden table, lingering just a second longer than it needed to. “Ignore her. I think dark chocolate suits you. Mysterious. Serious.” He leaned in a fraction closer, his eyes dropping to your mouth for a quick second before snapping back to yours. “Though... I don't remember you smiling this much when you were younger. Suits you.”
You felt a sudden, awkward prickle of heat rise up your neck, but before you could even think of a sarcastic comeback, Sarah let out a loud, theatrical gag.
“Ew! Jake, stop it!” She physically shuddered, making a fake vomiting noise into her paper napkin. “You sound like a bad romance novel. I am going to throw up right into my ice cream, I swear to God.”
“Sarah, I will leave you here,” Jake warned, though his cheeks flushed a light pink as he sat up a little straighter, kicking his foot under the table.
“You wouldn't dare, Dad would kill you,” Sarah shot right back, entirely unbothered. She turned to you with wide, desperate eyes. “Please tell me you’re not fallin’ for this. He practiced his 'cool driver guy' face in the mirror for ten minutes before we got home today. Dad told us you were home.”
“I did not!” Jake hissed, his voice cracking slightly.
You burst out laughing, the sound ringing out across the quiet parking lot, clutching your stomach as Jake glared at his sister. “In the mirror, Jake? Really?”
“She’s makin’ stuff up!” Jake insisted, though an embarrassed laugh cracked through his tough guy facade. He threw a napkin at Sarah’s head, which she expertly dodged. He looked back over at you, his smile softening as he watched you laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe I checked my hair once. Can you blame me?”
By the time Jake finally pulled back into the driveway, the sun had fully dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep twilight purple.
Everyone piled out of the truck. “I’ll walk you to your door,” Jake said, swinging his door shut.
You let out a soft laugh, gesturing across the quiet street. “Jake, it’s literally right there.”
He just shrugged, a easy grin on his face. “Well, I’ll walk ya anyway.”
You looked up at him, a sweet, appreciative smile touching your lips as you nodded. Sarah threw her arms around your waist, squeezing you in a tight hug before sprinting up her front steps and disappearing inside her house.
Jake walked you across the street, his heavy boots crunching quietly on the pavement, and accompanied you all the way up your front porch steps. He paused at your door, turning to face you.
“I’m really glad you’re back,” he said softly, his eyes warm.
You nodded, opening your mouth to respond, but the words caught hard in your throat. A sudden, cruel wave of guilt hit your chest out of nowhere.
Why are you smiling? Why are you happy? a dark voice in the back of your head whispered. Your mom is dead. That’s the only reason you’re standing on this porch right now. You don't get to have fun.
Your chest tightened, and despite your best efforts, hot tears immediately stung the back of your eyes.
Jake’s smile faded into instant concern, stepping a half inch closer. “Hey... what’s wrong? Did I say something?”
You blinked rapidly, shaking your head as you wiped at your eye with the back of your hand. “No-no, sorry. I just... I was just thinking about my mom. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don't apologize,” Jake said gently. Before you could step back, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “It’s alright. I... I think I can understand a little bit. Sarah and I haven’t seen or talked to our mom in over five years now. It sucks.”
You froze against him. You knew he meant well, he was genuinely trying to comfort you, but a bitter, ugly thought flashed through your head: Yeah, but your mom is still breathing.
You didn't say it. You couldn't. Instead, you gave him a quick, weak pat on the back and pulled away, forcing a small, tight smile and faking a long yawn.
“I’m just... really tired,” you murmured, taking a step backward toward your front door. “Thank you for the ice cream, Jake. Really.”
“Of course,” he said softly, stepping back down the stairs. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
You slipped inside, shutting the door behind you and resting your forehead against it for a long second. In the living room, your dad was watching TV on the couch. You walked over, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck from behind.
He paused the TV, looking up at you with soft eyes.
“You okay, kiddo?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing the top of his head.
“Just tired. Goin’ to bed.”
“Goodnight, sweet pea,” he said softly.
Upstairs, you went straight into the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and taking a fast, hot shower. You washed away the dust of the day, wrapped yourself in an oversized t-shirt, and crawled into your unmade bed under the cool sheets.
Your mind raced in the dark. Thoughts of your mom’s quiet absence, Jake’s gentle hands, Sarah’s bright laughter, and your dad’s tired smile swirled together. But as your eyelids finally closed and your breathing slowed, it was Joel’s face that lingered in the dark behind your eyes. His low, raspy drawl. The dark, unreadable way he’d stared at you across the table.
He invaded your dreams, vague, warm, feverish scenes you couldn't quite grasp when you woke up.
When your eyes fluttered open the next morning to the warm Texas sunlight streaming through your blinds, Joel was the first thing on your mind, right alongside the rich, comforting scent of fresh coffee drifting up from downstairs.
Authors note: Welcome to the beginning of my very first full length Joel Miller fic!
I’ve had this story bouncing around in my head for months now, and I’m so excited to finally get it out into the world. If you follow my other work, I have a completed Javier Peña story, I’m currently working on a Din Djarin fic, all posted on my AO3 @ForgetAshley.
I will be posting this fic and taking requests for one shots here on Tumblr!
A quick note on tags: To keep things spoiler free, the current tag list is just a starting point. I’ll be updating tags as the plot unfolds and the story develops.
I really hope you enjoy Chapter 1! I’d love to hear what you think, so please drop a comment or share your thoughts, it truly keeps the writing fire alive! Happy reading!
♡ next chapter ♡
