Summary: Your husband Joel is on a work trip, and he's not sure if he'll be home in time for Christmas.
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: No outbreak AU, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, suggestive beginning
A/N: Help sorry if this is bad I forgot about it until Christmas Eve and then rushed to finish it lol, so if you see typos no you didn't. Happy holidays guys
âOh, honeyâŠâ Joel groaned, gazing down at you reverently as his hands ran along your sides. âYouâre gorgeous.â
âMm, so are you,â you sighed, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. âMy handsome man.â
âI love you, sweetheart,â he whispered, leaning down to press a searing kiss to your lips. His hand captured your cheek as he gently tilted his head, deepening the kiss.
âI love you too,â you panted out as your broke the kiss.
âGonna let me show you how much I love ya?â Joel purred as his mouth latched onto your neck, sucking on that spot that made your knees weak.
âYes,â you sighed, your fingers digging into his back. âPlease, Joel.â
âDonât gotta beg, honey,â Joel assured you as his kisses trailed down to your shoulder. One of his hands had found its way into your hair while the other gently rubbed circles into your lower back, holding you close. âI know what ya need.â
He kissed his way back up to your mouth and took your lips with his once again, kissing you deep and thorough. You let out a breathless moan into his mouth and he groaned, nipping at your lip in response.
âJoel,â you whined, pressing yourself closer to him as he slid his knee between your thighs, giving you the friction you so desperately needed-
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
You groaned, rolling over in your empty bed to turn off your alarm. âWhy do I always wake up right before the good part,â you thought as you sat up, rubbing your bleary eyes. You turned to check the time. 8:16. Shit, you overslept.
You sighed and got up, sliding your slippers onto your feet before padding down the stairs. You walked into the kitchen to see Sarah at the stove, making breakfast. God, you loved that kid. You smiled softly, leaning against the doorway. "Hey, kiddo. Whatcha making?"
Sarah turned to you with a bright smile. "Scrambled eggs."
You hummed, nodding your head. "There better not be shell in them this time."
"It's calcium, Mom!"
Your heart nearly melted at that. Mom. You were never going to get used to that. "Alright, sure. Thank you for making breakfast, honey."
"It's nothing," she said, waving her hand dismissively.
"You hear anything from your dad?" you asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.
She nodded, turning to you as she took the eggs off the stove. "I texted him, like, thirty minutes ago. He said that he's gonna try to get a flight home overnight so he can be here by Christmas mornin'."
You sighed, nodding. "Okay. I just... wish that he didn't have to go on that trip."
"Me too," she mumbled, handing you a plate of eggs, which you gratefully took with a thank you. "I bet he'll make it work. He always does."
You nodded, taking a bite. "Yeah, he does."
After breakfast, you washed the dishes while Sarah told you about how she was 'pretty sure' Jason was going to ask her to the dance. You loved the way she opened up to you, confided in you in a way you doubt she ever would with Joel. Maybe it was because you were a woman, maybe it was because she felt like you wouldn't tease her (which you wouldn't). But whatever it was, you were so grateful to be able to bond with your adoptive daughter like this.
Once the dishes were done, you made hot chocolate and watched Home Alone together.
"What would you do if you accidentally left me home alone?" Sarah asked.
"Well, that would never happen," you assured her, kissing the top of her head. "But if we did, I think I wouldn't be much different than her," you said, gesturing towards the frantic mother on the screen. "And I bet your dad would be even worse."
She giggled. "Yeah, he totally would. I broke my leg when I was six, and I think that's the only time I've ever seen him cry."
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. "He just loves you, kiddo."
She smiled softly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "Yeah, I know."
As the hours passed without any word from Joel, you started to lose hope of him making it home. Christmas Eve didn't feel the same without him there, and you were sure Christmas without him would just be depressing. You had just about given up hope when Joel called during dinner. You frantically picked up your phone. "Joel?"
"Hi, honey..." he sighed.
Oh. Oh no. You could tell from just his tone that he didn't have good news. "What's going on, baby?" you asked, bracing yourself.
"Every flight is packed full. Earliest I could be home is tomorrow night." he explained. You could hear the frustration and sadness in his voice, and it just about broke your heart.
You sighed heavily, your shoulders slumping. You wanted to cry. You missed him so badly, and he wouldn't even be home for Christmas. Christmas! "Alright, honey."
"I'm so sorry, darlin'. I want to be home with you two so bad," he apologized. You looked over to Sarah, who was watching you with a worried look. You looked up, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall.
"No, it's not your fault, Joel. I know you do." you said, barely keeping your voice from wavering.
"I'll keep tryin', baby. Okay?" he murmured comfortingly into the phone.
"Okay," you whispered. "I love you."
"Love you too. I'll talk to ya later, alright?"
"Yep," you sighed, ending the call. You put your phone down on the table and groaned.
"...What did he say?" Sarah asked tentatively.
"He won't be home until tomorrow night," you muttered.
"Seriously?!" she shouted. "What the hell?! This is so unfair, it's Christmas! Everyone deserves to be with their family. You're telling me there isn't a single plane with one open seat?!"
"I don't know, Sarah. I guess not," you sighed, tears welling in your eyes. "Sorry," you whispered, wiping them away.
Sarah sighed, sadness evident on her face. "There's always next Christmas, I guess..." she mumbled dejectedly.
The rest of Christmas Eve passed miserably. The excitement and hope were gone, replaced by a sadness that you knew you wouldn't stop feeling until your husband came home to you. You couldn't imagine how it was for Sarah. Christmas was so magical for kids, and her dad not being there to celebrate with her was probably sucking all the fun right out of it.
You and Joel talked again that night after Sarah was in bed. He told you there was nothing he could do, that he'd done everything he could. You'd been expecting it, but it still hurt.
"I'm so sorry, honey," he apologized again.
"We'll be alright. We miss you lots, but there's nothing we can do. We'll just have to deal with it," you sighed, resigning yourself to accepting that you would have to celebrate Christmas without your husband.
"I'll make it up to you two," he promised.
"Just come home as soon as you can, that's all you need to do," you assured him.
"Will do, baby. I love you so much," he cooed.
"I love you too, hun," you echoed.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, okay? I promise."
"Okay, Joel. See you tomorrow night."
With that you ended the call, letting out a quiet, frustrated sob as you tossed your phone onto your nightstand. You wrapped presents alone that night, and you were sure you'd never felt more lonely in your life.
You were rudely awoken by your alarm the next morning. You groaned, getting up to go wake Sarah up.
"Merry Christmas, baby girl," you whispered, gently shaking her.
Sarah peeked her eyes open, turning to look up at you. She smiled softly. "Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas," she mumbled, getting up. You walked into the living room together, and you smiled when she gasped at the sight of the presents under the tree.
She raced over to grab one for you and one for her. "Here, let's open them together," she said.
You smiled sadly at the "To the love of my life, from Joel" scrawled on the gift tag. "Okay, honey."
Before you could do anything else, though, you were interrupted by a knock on the door. You sighed and got up, walking to the door. Who the hell was even at the door at 8:30 on Christmas morning?
Joel. Joel was at the door at 8:30 on Christmas morning. "Honey-" you gasped as he tugged you into a tight hug. "Wha- how did-"
"Got someone to sell me their ticket," he sighed into the crook of your neck. "Two in the goddamn morning, said he didn't have anyone to get home to anyways. Sad, but... he told me I could have his. That I needed it more than him. Twenty-five dollars for this ticket. Got on board ten minutes later."
You pulled away to give him a kiss before Sarah ran in to hug him. "Dad! I thought you weren't comin' home!"
"So did I," he chuckled. "But I'm here now. I missed you both," he said, placing a kiss on Sarah's forehead. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nope, we just woke up," Sarah exclaimed. "Come on, we gotta open these presents!"
You and Joel laughed and walked over to the tree, hand in hand.
You didn't spend a moment apart for the rest of the day. And after Sarah went to bed at the end of the day, he made your dream from the night before come true. Call it a Christmas miracle.
Married Harvey and the first thing he did was spend half the day standing in the hallway so I had to shove past him to get into my room đ not making a good impression, bud
Summary: After months of pining, Joel Miller finally makes a move on you at the winter dance.
Age Rating: T
Word Count: 1.9K
Warnings: Allusions to smut, kissing, sexual tension, there's a creepy dude but Joel helps
A/N: Sorry this is ass, the writer's block is so bad rn. Anyways I fucking love Jackson Joel so much, there needs to be more fics of him. I love the idea of him finally experiencing a crush again and being able to really acknowledge those feelings, and he's so overwhelmed and thrown off by how much he craves you. Divider by @inklore
He's had his eyes on you all night.
He can't stop watching, mesmerized by the way you move. If he were younger and more confident he would be out on the dance floor with you. But he's intimidated by your beauty, so sweet and graceful as you dance. He can't measure up to you, his bones are creaky and he can't dance to save his own life. And even though you're not much younger than him yourself, he fears that his age is starting to catch up to him, that he wouldn't be able to keep up your seemingly boundless energy. So he sticks to the sidelines, content to watch you dance the night away.
He doesn't know when it started, exactly. All he knows is that at some point, he became utterly infatuated with you, and now he can't get enough. Your smile, your laughter, your touch- he's hooked on you. He feels like a teenager again, with the way butterflies form in his stomach when he sees you and his heart races when you flash that pretty smile his way. So when a strange man approaches you, extending his hand in invitation, it sets off a silent rage inside him.
âIt should be meâ Joel thinks as he watches him pull you into his arms, far too intimate for two strangers. And then he starts to wonder, doubt filling his mind. There's not a ring on your finger, and you never mentioned another man in your life, but he still can't help but think that maybe he's been deluding himself this entire time. You've probably been with that man all this time, and he's just been too caught up in his feelings for you to notice. The guy pulls you closer, and a burning hot wave of jealousy crashes over him, intense and nearly painful. That is, until your eyes meet his, and he sees the look in them.
Fear.
Fear is a familiar thing to him. He can recognize it from a mile away. The subtle furrow of your brows, the slight widening of your eyes as they plead with him, a silent cry for help. He's walking towards the two of you before he even knows what he's doing, instinct telling him he needs to get you away from that guy. He's subtle about it, tapping the guy's shoulder and mumbling out a "Mind if I steal her away for a minute?" He whisks you away before the man can object.
You end up back in the corner of the room with him, the two of you sipping on your drinks as you watch everybody else dance.
âThank you,â you finally mutter after a few moments of silence.
âNo problem,â he says in return, giving you a small nod. "If you don't mind me askin', what was that about?"
âHe just wanted to get into my pants,â you spit, âI think he was drunk or something. He wouldn't let go of me, you know how those guys are.â
âFuckin' idiot,â he grumbles. âBoys like him ain't got a damn clue how to treat a woman.â He can't imagine how someone could look at you, so pretty and lovely, and just seeing a hole to use for the night. You deserve better. You deserve a man who knows how to take care of a woman, make you feel loved and safe. He wishes it were him. He'd be good to you.
You nod in return. âYeah,â is all you respond with before the two of you fall back into silence, and he wishes he could think of something to say. You're right here, as gorgeous as ever, and he's completely fucking this up. But what do you say to someone when all you can think about is how good they felt in your arms and how badly you want to kiss them?
âSo,â you speak up again. âDo you want to dance?â
It's a simple question. Innocent, lighthearted. But it sends his heart racing. You want to dance with him. You. Beautiful, perfect you. But he can't, he knows he can't, because he'll only crave you more if he does. âDarlin', I- I don't dance. Got two left feet,â he jokes, trying to ignore the way he fucking aches to have you in his arms again.
âCome on, it'll be fun,â you urge him, a smile playing on your lips. âPlease?â
It's almost scary how quickly his resolve crumbles. He wishes he were a stronger man, but he can't resist you, could never resist you. âOkay.â
He curses himself for agreeing when you grin and take his hand, pulling him to the dance floor. You're so pretty. So goddamn pretty, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. You grasp his hands and nearly drag him around the floor, but he doesn't mind at all. And to his surprise, he is able to keep up with you, after all (though he might have stepped on your foot once or twice at first).
ââTwo left feet' my ass,â you say after a few minutes. âYou're doing just fine.â
âTell that to your toes,â he quips, reveling in the way you giggle in response. He thinks it might just be the most beautiful sound heâs ever heard.
âYeah, but that was only a couple times. You havenât done that in at least five minutes,â youâre quick to point out. âYouâre doing great, really,â you assure him with a soft smile.
Joelâs heart skips a beat at that. He wonders if you can tell he's smitten, if you can feel the way his heart is racing. "Thanks," he murmurs in reply.
The song ends, suddenly replaced with something much softer, slower. Oh, shit. He drops your hands, clearing his throat nervously. But you take his hand back in yours, stepping closer.
God.
"Is this alright?" you ask softly, not daring to make another move until he agrees.
"Yes," he responds instantly, tentatively reaching his free hand out to grasp your waist. It's indescribable, the feeling of finally getting to hold you like this. He never wants to let you go.
You drop his hand, instead opting to wrap your arms around his neck while his hand falls to your hip along with the other. You stay like this for a while, just swaying back and forth. Joel's heart is pounding, and he thinks that surely you can feel it, but if you can you don't say anything.
At some point the line between platonic and romantic blurs, and the respectable distance between you closes. He has you cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped fully around you as you lean into him.
âHey, Joel?â you mumble, looking up to meet his eyes. Your eyes are beautiful in this light, shining and sparkling as they look up at him. It takes everything in his power not to pull your face to his and kiss you breathless then and there.
âYeah?â he whispers out, his voice tight and strained.
âWhatâre we doing?â you ask, your bottom lip sticking out just slightly in a small pout.
His brows furrow in confusion. âWeâre⊠dancing?â he whispers back tentatively.
âNo, I mean⊠fuck,â you curse under your breath. You pause for a moment, leaving Joel to wait with bated breath for your next words. âWhat are we?â
The words shoot through him like a bolt of lightning, setting every nerve in his body aflame. âI⊠donât know, sugar. What do you want us to be?â he asks. He knows exactly what you want, and he wants it too, but he needs to hear it from your pretty lips.
You sigh softly. âNot this. I donât⊠shit, thereâs something here, right? Iâm not making it up, am I?â you ask in a desperate plea for him to tell you he feels it too.
Joel thinks that he must be dreaming, because there's no way in hell you're in his arms, damn near begging him to tell you how much he adores you. âHoney girl, you ainât makinâ anything up. Been head over heels for a damn long time.â
You let out a shuddering sigh of relief. âYou have?â
Joel nods, gently taking your chin between his index finger and his thumb to keep you looking at him. âMm. Canât stop thinkinâ about ya, feel like I'm losing my damn mind.â
Your hands fist in his coat as he gently rubs his thumb along your plush lower lip. You like that, he realizes. Good to know.
âLemme kiss ya, darlinâ. Been dyinâ for a taste of these pretty lips.â Joel thinks he sounds like a complete madman, everything heâs ever been taught about respect and manners flying out the window and quickly being replaced by a flirtatiousness he didnât even know he possessed. But your entire body shudders in response, and he suddenly canât find it in himself to care.
"Please," you whisper, and his lips are on yours as soon as the word leaves your mouth.
His hands come up to your face, gently grasping your cheeks and holding your lips to his. He tries to take it slow, he really does, but you feel so fucking good, and heâs been waiting so long. He all but devours your lips as you hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You donât stop him even though he thinks you really should, letting him take what he wants, needs. Itâs like you understand how heâs feeling, how bad heâs been needing this, and maybe you do. Maybe youâve been craving it just as much.
He doesnât pull away until his lungs are burning with the need to breathe, panting shakily as he rests his forehead against your own. âFuck, sugar, âm sorry. Got carried away there.â
âDonât apologize.â You tilt your head up to kiss his cheek and Joel sighs softly at the contact, his hold on you tightening slightly. âI havenât had a kiss that good in years.â
Joel chuckles and presses another, less needy, kiss to your lips. âSame here, sweet girl. Didnât realize how much I missed it.â
You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "How long have you been wanting to kiss me, Joel?" you ask, the sugary-sweet lilt of your voice nearly driving him mad with desire.
"Way too damn long," Joel sighs. "Gotta be a few months at least."
"Mm. Looks like we got a lot of lost time to make up for, huh?" you breathe, leaning in close until your lips are a mere inch from his.
"Fuck," Joel hisses. "We sure do, darlin'. Tell you what, my house ain't far... what do you say we head on over there, have a drink, see where the night takes us?" he suggests, a small, seductive smile gracing his lips.
You nod eagerly. "Yeah. I'd like that."
The night takes you exactly where he wants it to. You, in his bed, arms wrapped around him tight while he pleases you in every way he knows how.
Forgot all about the twelve days of ficmas, finals week and work have been kicking my ass lol. I'll try to get a few fics out but i'm so fucking burnt out rn
