Can I please get more information on Max Philips! Because that snippet was delicious!
Thanks for asking!!
Max Phillips kidnaps the reader and takes her to an amusement park because he overheard her saying to a coworker that she wanted to visit. Things get a little smutty on the ferris wheel! This fic is inspired by this video
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wip wednesday game
Rules!
Post your WIP files names (not fic titles)
Post a snippet, must be words youâve written recently
After posting let your followers ask you questions about your WIPS or an ask with one of the file names & you must write three sentences for that WIP
thank you for the tag @kedsandtubesocks đ
i. but daddy i love him
You swallow nervously. This isnât your first kiss, no, that belongs to Thomas Cook, who courted you for a fleeting moment in time before moving on to greener pastures. You remember the ache and pain of rejection, how much it stung at eighteen, but years later as you gaze back at Joel, you send up a silent prayer of gratitude for all the missteps that have led you here.
ii. max phillips
âYou kidnapped me to bring me here, but youâre asking if putting your arm around me is okay?â
âWell, when you put it that way it sounds bad. Think of it less like a kidnapping and more of a fun surprise.â
iii. bloodlust crisis of faith
He preps the ship for takeoff, the sound of combustion engines coming online filling the small space. Your heart races with anticipation, fear and excitement coursing through you. This is it, you think. Youâre finally leaving Nevarro, just as youâve always dreamed.
iv. tentacle monster
The water ripples, a human head breaking the surface. You scramble back from the shoreline as a man emerges, visible from the waist up, water dripping from dark hair and sluicing across valleys of muscle. His eyes regard you with sharp interest, tracking your movements until a rock prevents you from getting any further away.
tags: @wannab-urs @beskarandblasters @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @dancingtotuyo @atinylittlepain @joelsgreys @cutesyscreenname @futureman
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â§*Ì„Ë my muses, acquired like bruises *Ì„Ëâ§
a collection of my fics inspired by taylor swift songs/lyrics, in honor of the release of THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT
JOEL MILLER
cruel summer | au | explicit | chapters: 6/6
Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise. He wasnât expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts heâd have about her.
âłAO3 | Tumblr:Â chapter 1Â |Â chapter 2Â |Â chapter 3Â |Â chapter 4Â |Â chapter 5Â |Â chapter 6
crimson red paint on my lips | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work
Joel Miller is an asshole. You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red. Connected to me and the devil and marked me like a bloodstain
âłAO3 | Tumblr
marked me like a bloodstain | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work
You save Joelâs life when the two of you are attacked on a smuggling run. He has an interesting way of saying thank you. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and me and the devil
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karma is my boyfriendâs dad | au | explicit | connected work
Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him? His dad, Joel Miller. And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.
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in a feud with her neighbor | au | explicit | connected work
Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isnât.
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bonus scenes: in a feud with her neighbor | au | PG-13 | connected work
Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!
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toyinâ with them older guys | au | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking thereâs no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. Maybe thereâs something Joel isnât telling you after all.
âłAO3 | Tumblr
help me hold onto you | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.
âłAO3 | Tumblr
seven | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.
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the last great american dynasty | au | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up. He doesnât expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream.
âłTumblr | AO3
TOMMY MILLER
wrong place, right time | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
What if Joel didnât answer Tommyâs call from jail? And what if the waitress heâd been defending that night bailed him out instead?
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JAVIER PEĂA
i can see you (javier peña's version) | au | explicit | one-shot
When Javier Peña takes credit for your lead, you take revenge. Good thing you know Javier can't resist a girl in red lipstick.
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FRANKIE MORALES
my tears and my beers and my candles | au | explicit | one-shot
Itâs been a bad week and you just need to have a good cry. You didnât expect Frankie Morales, best friend and unrequited crush, to crash your pity party. Heâs got some interesting ways of making you feel better. Maybe itâs not so unrequited after all.
âłAO3 | Tumblr
invisible string | au | explicit | one-shot
After fifteen years, the invisible string that ties you to Frankie Morales pulls you back together
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MIGUEL O'HARA
i can see you (miguel o'hara's version) | au | explicit | one-shot
As Dr. Miguel OâHaraâs graduate teaching and research assistant, youâve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts youâve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man. But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?
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EDDIE MUNSON
the mark you saw on my collarbone | vampire au | explicit | connected work
A snippet of life with your human and your monster. A oneshot in the bat out of hell series
âłAO3
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oh my god??? THE WOMAN IS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK
are you kidding me, thank you so much iâm so touched that you would put this together for cruel summer đđđ
cruel summer by @proxima-writes
paige I owe you some love on cruel summer (I devoured it on ao3 and somehow didn't make the link it was you!) - their connection was so hot and tender, and I was so teared up at the end! đ I also always enjoy talking to & seeing your posts - (and omg of course I love your Boba fics!!! As well as everything you write!)
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What's your opinion on the recent taboo fanfic and topic going on in the fandom?
I am personally a big supporter of âif you donât like it, donât read itâ. Not every ounce of content created is done so with every single person in mind. There are fics out there that will not appeal to you and the best thing to do is simply move on. Itâs fan fiction - meaning the content is not real and true.
I have not read the fic in question but from what I understand, the characters are two consenting adults. It is exploring a specific dynamic that may not be for everyone. If you donât like it, donât read it and donât get on your moral high horse thinking youâre better than everyone for not liking it. While not the current topic of debate, noncon and dubcon fics with adult characters also exist and it is important to remember that writing or reading such fics does not mean they condone it in real life.
Adjacent to this issue is the age old topic of tagging your fics appropriately. Itâs extremely important that you give the audience the opportunity to make an informed decision of what they are about to read.
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âšwip wednesdayâš
got tagged by @atticrissfinch and @kedsandtubesocks , thank you my loves đ
yâall know i have a wip list a mile long so hereâs some snips from ones iâve added to in the last few days. if any of them interest you, iâd love to hear from you đ
1.
title: bloodlust crisis of faith
pairing: vampire!din djarin x female reader
this one has two versions and iâve recently decided to revisit the first version where the reader volunteers to help with caring for grogu so if youâve seen this partâŠshhhh
2.
untitled
pairing: max phillips x female reader
this is based on a tik tok i saw. max kidnaps you and forces you to go on a date with him
3.
untitled
pairing: massage therapist!jack daniels x female reader
a very self indulgent fic inspired by the massage i scheduled for myself for my own thirtieth birthday.
4.
future history
pairing: roommate!frankie morales x female reader
oh surprise theyâre actually married
tags: @futureman @undrthelights @joelsgreys @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @atinylittlepain @wannab-urs sorry if youâve already been tagged ily
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ONE-SHOTS
mission accomplished | explicit | one-shot | female reader
General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the Generalâs messages going unanswered, youâve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.
âł Tumblr
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send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it
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the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun
pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 6.5k
summary:
Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.
A Twister (1996) AU
authorâs note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!
amazing title art by @atinylittlepain
tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of readerâs parentâs deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.
masterlists: all characters | joel miller
support for palestine
The first person to notice Joelâs truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.
âLook what the cat dragged in!â He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. âHad no idea you were cominâ out here.â
âI didnât plan on it,â Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. âBut I canât get her to sign âem unless I track her down myself.â
The expression on Tommyâs face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. âSheâs around here somewhere.â
âProbably hiding from you,â another voice chimes. Tommyâs wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. âWelcome back, Joel.â
âI ainât back,â he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. âHowâre you, Maria?â
âSweaty,â she replies. âHeard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.â
Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.
âThe prodigal son returns!â Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time heâs seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same.Â
He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike.Â
âJoel,â you say, a smile on your face that doesnât reach your eyes. âWasnât expecting you out here.â
âYou wonât answer any of my calls,â he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. âHave you looked at the papers?â
âYeah.â
âIs there a reason you havenât signed them?â
âBeen a bit busy,â you say, gesturing to the camp. âI got something youâll want to see.â
You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.
âSheâs here, Joel,â you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. âELLIE.â
âNo shit?â Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. âIâll be damned. You really did it.â
âWe did it,â you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that heâs grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.
âWeâve got action!â Tess yells.Â
The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isnât fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.
Heâs so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still havenât signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.
âYou cominâ with, brother?â Tommyâs voice crackles over his truck radio.Â
âShe didnât sign!â Joel says back.Â
âKeep lying to yourself, Joel!â Maria calls back.Â
Itâs a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.
âSon of a bitch,â he snaps. He grabs the radio. âWe got company!â
The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joelâs in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRAâs corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said.Â
âWhatâs Marlene doinâ here?â Joel asks.Â
âBet sheâs wondering the same thing about you!â You chime in.
The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.
âFuck!â He shouts. His tire has gone flat.
This is the last thing he needs.
You watch Joel through the window of the little diner youâve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. Heâs across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.
âHey,â Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. âHow are you doing?â
âFine,â you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. âWeird. It feels weird.â
âYeah, I know. Heâs in a suit.â She takes a sip of her drink. âNever thought Iâd see the day.â
âHe looks good.â
âSure, if you like âem with a stick up theirââ
âWhatâs channel four doing here?â You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, whoâs gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your lifeâs work sitting in the bed of your truck. âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me,â you snap, racing for the door.Â
âThis is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. Itâs built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,â Marlene says proudly. âInside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.â
âHey!â Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doinâ?â
âCut!â The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.
âYou really think you can get away with rippinâ off our idea?â Joel snaps.Â
âI only took your idea and made it a reality,â Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. âFace it, Joel. Your team doesnât have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.â She laughs. âBesides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong. ELLIE isnât just a dream anymore. Weâve got her here.â
Marleneâs smile falters. âIs that so?â
âYep,â Joel says. âAnd sheâs going to be the first in the air.â
âWeâll see about that, Joel.â She steps back, addressing her crew. âPack it up. Letâs hit the road.â
You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When theyâve disappeared from sight, you give Joelâs shoulder a tentative pat.Â
âThanks for the vote of confidence,â you tell him. âHopefully youâre right.â
The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response.Â
âSorry to interrupt,â Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. âBut we got another development on the radar.â
âAlright, letâs get her,â you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. âYou just gonna stand there, or are you coming?â
âYou still havenât signed the papers!â He shouts back.
âI can sign them in the truck!â
He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driverâs door. âIâm drivinâ,â he says.
âNo,â you argue. âThis is my truck.â
âYou think I forgot how to drive this thing?â
âI think youâre out of practice!â
âYouâre wastinâ time, just get in the fuckinâ truck,â he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.
Some things never really change.
âYou have to get ahead of it!â You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.
âI know!â He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. âI canât fuckinâ see anythinâ!â
âJust cut across the field!â
âI can get us further ahead on the road!â
âWeâre going to get stuck alongside it!â
âDo you want to drive?!âÂ
âIâd love to!â
Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.
âWhat are you doing?!â
Marleneâs team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joelâs attention remains fixed on the tornado. âItâs goinâ to shift its path.â
âAre you sure?â You ask, squinting.Â
âLook at it, itâs a sidewinder. Itâs headinâ left,â he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road.Â
âThere it goes!â You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. âAlright, tell us what youâve got, Maria.â
âF2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,â she says, voice crackling over the speaker. âYou guys have a shot but youâre going to be cutting it real close.â
You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination heâs always admired, even loved, and he knows he canât say no. Not to you.
âLetâs get it.â
âWeâre running out of time,â you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. âWeâre not going to make it.âÂ
âWe will,â he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and youâre out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop.Â
The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. Youâre removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.
âWe have to get it on the ground!â You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.
Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. âWe have to get out of here!â
âBut ELLIEââ
âNow!â He shouts.Â
A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch.Â
âGet up,â Joel urges, helping you to your feet. âWe gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!â
Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joelâs jacket tightly.Â
You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake.Â
Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joelâs chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.
âYou okay?â Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. âGood. ThatâsâŠgood.â
âHey! Youâre alive!â You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. âTommy owes me twenty bucks!â
âHe should know better than to bet against me,â Joel says. His attention returns to you. âCome on, letâs get out of here.â
Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didnât deploy.
âFuck,â you curse. âAll of that and it didnât even open.â
âThereâs always next time,â Tess assures you.
âYou knowâŠwe could all use a showerâŠ.and a meal,â Tommy says. You shoot him a look.
âNo.â
âCome on,â he needles. âYouâre covered in mud. Weâll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.â
âI said no.â
âWe havenât had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,â Maria adds.
âYou must really want a hot a meal if youâre willing to face Uncle Bill.â
âThat a yes?â Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.
âFine,â you sigh. âDonât say I didnât warn you.â
Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesnât take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn thatâs become more for show than for function in your Uncle Billâs older age.Â
When the van pulls up to the house, Billâs husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.
The front door opens, Billâs large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state youâre in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He wonât go so far as to say heâs hiding, but itâs a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.
âJoel,â he says, crossing his arms.
âUncle Bill,â Joel replies.
âJust Bill is fine.â
Joel clears his throat, avoiding the manâs gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension.Â
âIâm going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,â you tell Bill.
âWho said I was feeding you?âÂ
âFrank did.â
âSorry, honey!â Frank yells from the kitchen.Â
Joel escapes Billâs attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted.Â
âDidnât expect to see you back,â Frank comments, tone light.Â
âDidnât expect to be back,â Joel replies.Â
âWhat brings you here, then?â
âGot tired of waitinâ on her to sign the divorce papers.â
Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.
âItâs a real shame,â he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. âYou two were really good together.â
Joel doesnât reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you.Â
Itâs what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasnât as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didnât have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.
âShowerâs free,â you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud.Â
âMy turn,â Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesnât say anything about his silence and swift exit.
Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.
He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.
He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.
There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.
You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. Youâve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.
âHey,â he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.
âHey.â
You shift your weight until youâre lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Youâre both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood.Â
âWhen will it be enough?â Joel finally asks. You sigh.
âNot this again,â you complain.Â
âWhat is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?â
âRetirement doesnât scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but thatâs not what I want. Itâs never been what I want.â You take a deep breath. âSo stop acting surprised that I wonât change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if thatâs something that you canât love about meââ
âIt ainât about not lovinâ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,â he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. âBut I canât ever be enough for you.â
Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. âWhat the hell are you talking about?â
âIâm gettinâ older, Iâm not as good at this gig as I used to be.â
âThatâs why you left? Because you think youâreâŠwhat? Holding us back?â
âWasnât I?â
âNo! You big fucking idiot,â you snap. âI canât believe this.â You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasnât faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. âYou will always have a place with us. With me.â
Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.
You come to him easily, your lips finding his.
It feels like coming home.
Joelâs mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul.Â
He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is.Â
Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots â just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots heâs left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans.Â
Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.
âStill so sensitive,â he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. âQuit it. Be a good girl or you wonât get your reward.â
âYes, sir,â you murmur.Â
âThatâs it, knew you could be good for me.â He squeezes your breast in one large hand. âJust needed the right motivation.â
He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.
âWhatâs the matter, pretty girl?â Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. âSomethinâ you want? Somethinâ you need?â
âYou,â you mumble.
âLouder.â
âYou, Joel.â
He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat.Â
The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until youâre squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit.Â
He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you donât tip over before heâs ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but heâs nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.
âJoel,â you cry, his name a plea. âAre you going to let me come?â
âOf course, sweetheart,â he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. âBut not yet.â
âFuck!â You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body. His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. Itâs too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.
He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.
âMissed this,â Joel murmurs, watching you intently. âMissed you.â
âMissed you,â you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until youâre cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. âMissed this, too.â
He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when heâs coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.
Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.
âJoel,â you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. âJoel.â
âI know,â he says. âGod, I know.â
When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body.Â
âFeel so fuckinâ good,â Joel groans. âCan you come for me, baby? One more time?â
âMhm,â you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like youâve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.
Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, itâs with a smile on his face.
âThat wasââ
âYeah,â you agree. âSee? You still got it, old man.â
âNevermind, I still want a divorce.â
You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.
A sense of home.
The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joelâs lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. Youâre smiling and he swears heâs never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.
When you break apart, you whisper that youâre going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you heâs going to clean up the mess to avoid Billâs wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water thatâs pooled in the hallway.
As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.
Joel smiles back.
For now, itâs their little secret.
The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but itâll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldnât deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members arenât looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.
When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill thatâs a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by.Â
âAlright, letâs head out,â Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. âRadarâs got something forming about twenty miles north of here.â
âWhat kind of something?â You ask.
âA big something.â
Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink.Â
âLetâs go get ELLIE into the air.â
The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. Thereâs a certain liminality when youâre driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you.Â
âYou okay?â Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. âNot gettinâ cold feet, are you?â
âAbout this?â You nod towards the sky. âNever.â
âThatâs my girl.â
âGuys? You wonât believe this,â Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.
âWhat is it?â You ask.
âThereâs two cells. Radar maxed out.âÂ
âTheyâre funneling back,â Tess adds. âThis isnât looking good.â
âYou saying we canât do it?â You ask.
The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, âIf anyone can, itâs you two.â
âWhat are we up against?â Joel asks.
âCell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,â Maria continues.
âJoel.â You tap his arm. âLook.â
A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. Itâs only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in.Â
âWhatâs the trajectory of this?â He asks.
âNortheast.â
Itâs heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE â Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.
âLetâs get her down!â Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.
Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cycloneâs path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.
âThis is it!â Tess shouts through the radio.Â
You grab Joelâs hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.
âItâs too light,â you murmur.Â
âNo itâs not,â Joel says confidently.Â
Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesnât lift from the ground. Youâre biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.
âWeâve got a shift!â Maria says. âWeâve got a shift, due north. Due north.â
âFuck!â Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.
âGuess who just showed up?â Tommy adds.
Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone.Â
âWhat channel are they using?â You ask. Thereâs a brief silence until Tess calls back, âSix. Why?â
You switch the channel. âMarlene, you have to anchor the unit.â
âIâm a little busy right now,â she calls back. âTrying to make history over here.â
âListen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, itâs not going to get picked up. And if it doesnât pick up, it doesnât deploy.â
âMaybe thatâs just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.â
âGoddamnit,â you snap, tossing the transmitter down.Â
âCanât fix stupid,â Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. âLetâs load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.â
Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest.Â
âDo you see what I see?â You ask.
Joel watches the twister, then Marleneâs team. He grabs the radio.Â
âMarlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, youâre in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.â
âRadar isnât showing a shift. Iâm not missing this chance,â Marlene replies.
âYou gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. Youâre goinâ to get yourself killed!â
âClear this channel, Joel. Iâve got work to do.â
âFuck!â Joel snaps.Â
Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground.Â
âOh my god,â you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.Â
âI know,â he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. âWe did what we could.â
Joel switches the radio back to your teamâs channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Mariaâs voice snaps your name.
âDo you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.â
âCopy that,â you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. âWhatâs it looking like?â
âToo soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.â
Joel drives parallel to Mariaâs path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. Itâs one of the biggest youâve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.
âWind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. Weâve found ourselves an F5,,â Maria says. âSheâs slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.â
Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it.Â
âELLIE needs an anchor,â you remind him.
âI know,â he says, looking over at you. âIâm giving her one.â
âWeâre using the truck?â
âYou got a better idea?â
âNo, no, go ahead. Canât wait to explain this one to insurance.â You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. âWeâre sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.â
âRoger that,â Tess replies. âReady for the feed.â
Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.
âOne,â Joel shouts. âTwo!â
âThree!â You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When youâve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.
Heâs kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.
âGo, go, go!â He shouts.Â
The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Mariaâs eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.
Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.
âIâm getting a read!â Maria shouts. âSheâs up! ELLIE is flying!â
âOh my god,â you murmur. âJoel, we did it.â
âYou did it, baby,â he says.Â
The twister doesnât last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you donât care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.
âYou owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!â Tess shouts.
Joel pulls away with a laugh. âWhat did I tell you about bettinâ against me?â
âDoes this mean youâre back?â Maria asks.
The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.
âYeah,â he says, smiling. âIâm back.â
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the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun
pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 6.5k
summary:
Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.
A Twister (1996) AU
authorâs note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!
amazing title art by @atinylittlepain
tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of readerâs parentâs deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.
masterlists: all characters | joel miller
support for palestine
The first person to notice Joelâs truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.
âLook what the cat dragged in!â He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. âHad no idea you were cominâ out here.â
âI didnât plan on it,â Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. âBut I canât get her to sign âem unless I track her down myself.â
The expression on Tommyâs face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. âSheâs around here somewhere.â
âProbably hiding from you,â another voice chimes. Tommyâs wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. âWelcome back, Joel.â
âI ainât back,â he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. âHowâre you, Maria?â
âSweaty,â she replies. âHeard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.â
Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.
âThe prodigal son returns!â Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time heâs seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same.Â
He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike.Â
âJoel,â you say, a smile on your face that doesnât reach your eyes. âWasnât expecting you out here.â
âYou wonât answer any of my calls,â he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. âHave you looked at the papers?â
âYeah.â
âIs there a reason you havenât signed them?â
âBeen a bit busy,â you say, gesturing to the camp. âI got something youâll want to see.â
You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.
âSheâs here, Joel,â you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. âELLIE.â
âNo shit?â Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. âIâll be damned. You really did it.â
âWe did it,â you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that heâs grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.
âWeâve got action!â Tess yells.Â
The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isnât fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.
Heâs so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still havenât signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.
âYou cominâ with, brother?â Tommyâs voice crackles over his truck radio.Â
âShe didnât sign!â Joel says back.Â
âKeep lying to yourself, Joel!â Maria calls back.Â
Itâs a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.
âSon of a bitch,â he snaps. He grabs the radio. âWe got company!â
The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joelâs in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRAâs corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said.Â
âWhatâs Marlene doinâ here?â Joel asks.Â
âBet sheâs wondering the same thing about you!â You chime in.
The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.
âFuck!â He shouts. His tire has gone flat.
This is the last thing he needs.
You watch Joel through the window of the little diner youâve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. Heâs across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.
âHey,â Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. âHow are you doing?â
âFine,â you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. âWeird. It feels weird.â
âYeah, I know. Heâs in a suit.â She takes a sip of her drink. âNever thought Iâd see the day.â
âHe looks good.â
âSure, if you like âem with a stick up theirââ
âWhatâs channel four doing here?â You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, whoâs gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your lifeâs work sitting in the bed of your truck. âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me,â you snap, racing for the door.Â
âThis is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. Itâs built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,â Marlene says proudly. âInside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.â
âHey!â Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. âWhat the hell do you think youâre doinâ?â
âCut!â The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.
âYou really think you can get away with rippinâ off our idea?â Joel snaps.Â
âI only took your idea and made it a reality,â Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. âFace it, Joel. Your team doesnât have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.â She laughs. âBesides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong. ELLIE isnât just a dream anymore. Weâve got her here.â
Marleneâs smile falters. âIs that so?â
âYep,â Joel says. âAnd sheâs going to be the first in the air.â
âWeâll see about that, Joel.â She steps back, addressing her crew. âPack it up. Letâs hit the road.â
You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When theyâve disappeared from sight, you give Joelâs shoulder a tentative pat.Â
âThanks for the vote of confidence,â you tell him. âHopefully youâre right.â
The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response.Â
âSorry to interrupt,â Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. âBut we got another development on the radar.â
âAlright, letâs get her,â you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. âYou just gonna stand there, or are you coming?â
âYou still havenât signed the papers!â He shouts back.
âI can sign them in the truck!â
He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driverâs door. âIâm drivinâ,â he says.
âNo,â you argue. âThis is my truck.â
âYou think I forgot how to drive this thing?â
âI think youâre out of practice!â
âYouâre wastinâ time, just get in the fuckinâ truck,â he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.
Some things never really change.
âYou have to get ahead of it!â You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.
âI know!â He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. âI canât fuckinâ see anythinâ!â
âJust cut across the field!â
âI can get us further ahead on the road!â
âWeâre going to get stuck alongside it!â
âDo you want to drive?!âÂ
âIâd love to!â
Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.
âWhat are you doing?!â
Marleneâs team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joelâs attention remains fixed on the tornado. âItâs goinâ to shift its path.â
âAre you sure?â You ask, squinting.Â
âLook at it, itâs a sidewinder. Itâs headinâ left,â he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road.Â
âThere it goes!â You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. âAlright, tell us what youâve got, Maria.â
âF2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,â she says, voice crackling over the speaker. âYou guys have a shot but youâre going to be cutting it real close.â
You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination heâs always admired, even loved, and he knows he canât say no. Not to you.
âLetâs get it.â
âWeâre running out of time,â you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. âWeâre not going to make it.âÂ
âWe will,â he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and youâre out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop.Â
The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. Youâre removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.
âWe have to get it on the ground!â You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.
Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. âWe have to get out of here!â
âBut ELLIEââ
âNow!â He shouts.Â
A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch.Â
âGet up,â Joel urges, helping you to your feet. âWe gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!â
Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joelâs jacket tightly.Â
You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake.Â
Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joelâs chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.
âYou okay?â Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. âGood. ThatâsâŠgood.â
âHey! Youâre alive!â You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. âTommy owes me twenty bucks!â
âHe should know better than to bet against me,â Joel says. His attention returns to you. âCome on, letâs get out of here.â
Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didnât deploy.
âFuck,â you curse. âAll of that and it didnât even open.â
âThereâs always next time,â Tess assures you.
âYou knowâŠwe could all use a showerâŠ.and a meal,â Tommy says. You shoot him a look.
âNo.â
âCome on,â he needles. âYouâre covered in mud. Weâll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.â
âI said no.â
âWe havenât had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,â Maria adds.
âYou must really want a hot a meal if youâre willing to face Uncle Bill.â
âThat a yes?â Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.
âFine,â you sigh. âDonât say I didnât warn you.â
Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesnât take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn thatâs become more for show than for function in your Uncle Billâs older age.Â
When the van pulls up to the house, Billâs husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.
The front door opens, Billâs large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state youâre in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He wonât go so far as to say heâs hiding, but itâs a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.
âJoel,â he says, crossing his arms.
âUncle Bill,â Joel replies.
âJust Bill is fine.â
Joel clears his throat, avoiding the manâs gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension.Â
âIâm going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,â you tell Bill.
âWho said I was feeding you?âÂ
âFrank did.â
âSorry, honey!â Frank yells from the kitchen.Â
Joel escapes Billâs attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted.Â
âDidnât expect to see you back,â Frank comments, tone light.Â
âDidnât expect to be back,â Joel replies.Â
âWhat brings you here, then?â
âGot tired of waitinâ on her to sign the divorce papers.â
Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.
âItâs a real shame,â he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. âYou two were really good together.â
Joel doesnât reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you.Â
Itâs what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasnât as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didnât have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.
âShowerâs free,â you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud.Â
âMy turn,â Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesnât say anything about his silence and swift exit.
Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.
He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.
He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.
There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.
You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. Youâve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.
âHey,â he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.
âHey.â
You shift your weight until youâre lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Youâre both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood.Â
âWhen will it be enough?â Joel finally asks. You sigh.
âNot this again,â you complain.Â
âWhat is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?â
âRetirement doesnât scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but thatâs not what I want. Itâs never been what I want.â You take a deep breath. âSo stop acting surprised that I wonât change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if thatâs something that you canât love about meââ
âIt ainât about not lovinâ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,â he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. âBut I canât ever be enough for you.â
Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. âWhat the hell are you talking about?â
âIâm gettinâ older, Iâm not as good at this gig as I used to be.â
âThatâs why you left? Because you think youâreâŠwhat? Holding us back?â
âWasnât I?â
âNo! You big fucking idiot,â you snap. âI canât believe this.â You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasnât faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. âYou will always have a place with us. With me.â
Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.
You come to him easily, your lips finding his.
It feels like coming home.
Joelâs mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul.Â
He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is.Â
Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots â just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots heâs left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans.Â
Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.
âStill so sensitive,â he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. âQuit it. Be a good girl or you wonât get your reward.â
âYes, sir,â you murmur.Â
âThatâs it, knew you could be good for me.â He squeezes your breast in one large hand. âJust needed the right motivation.â
He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.
âWhatâs the matter, pretty girl?â Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. âSomethinâ you want? Somethinâ you need?â
âYou,â you mumble.
âLouder.â
âYou, Joel.â
He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat.Â
The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until youâre squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit.Â
He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you donât tip over before heâs ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but heâs nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.
âJoel,â you cry, his name a plea. âAre you going to let me come?â
âOf course, sweetheart,â he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. âBut not yet.â
âFuck!â You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body. His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. Itâs too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.
He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.
âMissed this,â Joel murmurs, watching you intently. âMissed you.â
âMissed you,â you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until youâre cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. âMissed this, too.â
He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when heâs coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.
Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.
âJoel,â you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. âJoel.â
âI know,â he says. âGod, I know.â
When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body.Â
âFeel so fuckinâ good,â Joel groans. âCan you come for me, baby? One more time?â
âMhm,â you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like youâve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.
Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, itâs with a smile on his face.
âThat wasââ
âYeah,â you agree. âSee? You still got it, old man.â
âNevermind, I still want a divorce.â
You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.
A sense of home.
The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joelâs lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. Youâre smiling and he swears heâs never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.
When you break apart, you whisper that youâre going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you heâs going to clean up the mess to avoid Billâs wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water thatâs pooled in the hallway.
As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.
Joel smiles back.
For now, itâs their little secret.
The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but itâll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldnât deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members arenât looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.
When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill thatâs a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by.Â
âAlright, letâs head out,â Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. âRadarâs got something forming about twenty miles north of here.â
âWhat kind of something?â You ask.
âA big something.â
Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink.Â
âLetâs go get ELLIE into the air.â
The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. Thereâs a certain liminality when youâre driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you.Â
âYou okay?â Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. âNot gettinâ cold feet, are you?â
âAbout this?â You nod towards the sky. âNever.â
âThatâs my girl.â
âGuys? You wonât believe this,â Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.
âWhat is it?â You ask.
âThereâs two cells. Radar maxed out.âÂ
âTheyâre funneling back,â Tess adds. âThis isnât looking good.â
âYou saying we canât do it?â You ask.
The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, âIf anyone can, itâs you two.â
âWhat are we up against?â Joel asks.
âCell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,â Maria continues.
âJoel.â You tap his arm. âLook.â
A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. Itâs only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in.Â
âWhatâs the trajectory of this?â He asks.
âNortheast.â
Itâs heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE â Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.
âLetâs get her down!â Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.
Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cycloneâs path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.
âThis is it!â Tess shouts through the radio.Â
You grab Joelâs hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.
âItâs too light,â you murmur.Â
âNo itâs not,â Joel says confidently.Â
Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesnât lift from the ground. Youâre biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.
âWeâve got a shift!â Maria says. âWeâve got a shift, due north. Due north.â
âFuck!â Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.
âGuess who just showed up?â Tommy adds.
Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone.Â
âWhat channel are they using?â You ask. Thereâs a brief silence until Tess calls back, âSix. Why?â
You switch the channel. âMarlene, you have to anchor the unit.â
âIâm a little busy right now,â she calls back. âTrying to make history over here.â
âListen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, itâs not going to get picked up. And if it doesnât pick up, it doesnât deploy.â
âMaybe thatâs just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.â
âGoddamnit,â you snap, tossing the transmitter down.Â
âCanât fix stupid,â Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. âLetâs load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.â
Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest.Â
âDo you see what I see?â You ask.
Joel watches the twister, then Marleneâs team. He grabs the radio.Â
âMarlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, youâre in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.â
âRadar isnât showing a shift. Iâm not missing this chance,â Marlene replies.
âYou gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. Youâre goinâ to get yourself killed!â
âClear this channel, Joel. Iâve got work to do.â
âFuck!â Joel snaps.Â
Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground.Â
âOh my god,â you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.Â
âI know,â he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. âWe did what we could.â
Joel switches the radio back to your teamâs channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Mariaâs voice snaps your name.
âDo you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.â
âCopy that,â you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. âWhatâs it looking like?â
âToo soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.â
Joel drives parallel to Mariaâs path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. Itâs one of the biggest youâve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.
âWind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. Weâve found ourselves an F5,,â Maria says. âSheâs slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.â
Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it.Â
âELLIE needs an anchor,â you remind him.
âI know,â he says, looking over at you. âIâm giving her one.â
âWeâre using the truck?â
âYou got a better idea?â
âNo, no, go ahead. Canât wait to explain this one to insurance.â You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. âWeâre sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.â
âRoger that,â Tess replies. âReady for the feed.â
Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.
âOne,â Joel shouts. âTwo!â
âThree!â You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When youâve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.
Heâs kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.
âGo, go, go!â He shouts.Â
The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Mariaâs eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.
Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.
âIâm getting a read!â Maria shouts. âSheâs up! ELLIE is flying!â
âOh my god,â you murmur. âJoel, we did it.â
âYou did it, baby,â he says.Â
The twister doesnât last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you donât care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.
âYou owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!â Tess shouts.
Joel pulls away with a laugh. âWhat did I tell you about bettinâ against me?â
âDoes this mean youâre back?â Maria asks.
The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.
âYeah,â he says, smiling. âIâm back.â
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reblogging to add that this will be posted tonight at 5 PM EST!
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the harder the rain (the sweeter the sun)
pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader
rating: explicit (18+)
summary:
Storm chaser turned weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his estranged wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.
A Twister (1996) AU.
Preview below!
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wip preview (now available)
the harder the rain (the sweeter the sun)
pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader
rating: explicit (18+)
summary:
Storm chaser turned weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his estranged wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.
A Twister (1996) AU.
Preview below!
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MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
pairing: poe dameron x female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 1077
summary:
General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the Generalâs messages going unanswered, youâve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.
authorâs note: posting this as a sign of life, as itâs the only thing iâve managed to finish over the last month đ iâm still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. iâm just slow - hope you can forgive me.
tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?
It was supposed to be a simple mission.
General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the Generalâs messages going unanswered, youâve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.
Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.
Now youâre on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poeâs curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.
âMaker, youâre a mess,â Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how heâs not looking too put together right now himself but you canât, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.
A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poeâs hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.
âShhh, sweetheart,â he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. âNot finished yet.â
Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.
âQuit teasing,â you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.
âYou can just say you want my cock,â he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. âCome on, say it.â
You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way heâs fraying at the edges. Itâs in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.
âFuck me, Poe,â you finally say.
And fuck you he does.
He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.
Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.
âThatâs it,â he groans, âWhoâs making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?â
âYou, Poe,â you reply.
âThatâs right.â He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until youâre shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.
His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.
Youâre both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.
âStay,â he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You donât respond, you donât have to. Heâs asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.
When youâre certain heâs out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how youâd like to crawl back into bed with him, not while youâre digging your comm unit from your pants.
Ready for extraction.
When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that youâre not there.
The second thing he notices is that heâs not even in his own bunk.
He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is heâ
âCommander Dameron,â your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. âYouâre safe. Youâre currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.â
âHow didââ
âYouâre a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,â you say, cutting off his question. âYouâve been brought here to speak with General Organa.â
Poe smirks. âDo they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?â
âItâs Captain, actually.â
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last line tag game
tagged by @beskarandblasters and @dancingtotuyo đ
been giving some attention to roommate!frankie morales - an argument between him and his latest fling:
âI should have listened to Molly. She told me she always had a feeling there was something more with you two,â she continues. She brushes past him and disappears down the hall and he follows, watching a familiar scene play out with a different actress â a dress tugged over her body, a bag hastily collected from his dresser, a pinched expression when she sees him in the doorway.
np tags: @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @wannab-urs @pedgito @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cutesyscreenname @cupofjoel @hellishjoel
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Itâs here! Thank you to @endlessthxxghts for helping me put this together. Under the cut youâll find a list of each creator followed by whether theyâre a writer/artist/gif maker etc and what Pedro boys they create for! All listed in alphabetical order đ„°
If you or someone else you know would like to be added to the list, donât hesitate to reach out to myself or L! All types of disabilities are welcome!! The divider is by @saradika-graphics đ€
@chaithetics - Writer - Dieter, Javi P, & Joel
@coulsons-fullmetal-cellist - Writer - Dieter, Marcus P, Joel, Tim, & The Thief
@djarinmuse - Writer - Din, Frankie, Javi P & Joel
@endlessthxxghts - Writer - Din, Frankie, Javi P & Joel
@joeloverture - Writer - Joel
@julesonrecord - Writer - Dieter, Din, Ezra, Frankie, Lucien, Javi P, Joel, & Jack
@keldabe-kriff - Writer - Din, Joel, & Max
@kewwrites - Writer - Din, Jack, & Joel
@morallyinept - Writer - Dieter, Din, Ezra, Frankie, Jack, Javi G, Javi P, Joel, Lucien, Max, Marcus M, Marcus P, Pero, & Tim
@notjustjavierpena - Writer - Frankie, Javi P, & Joel
@penvisions - Writer - Din, Frankie, Javi P, & Joel
@poeticpascal - Writer - Joel
@quicksilvermad - Writer - Din
@romanarose - Writer - Frankie, Javi P, & Joel
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Hello! I loved real gods require blood !
(I believe that is the name)
Your writing keeps me intriguedâ€ïž
And I hope you donât feel pressured or frustrated about me asking you this question, youâve probably gotten it lots of times !
But have you ever thought of writing another snippet of a part two to the story? Itâs awesome as is and sometimes for writers it doesnât need anymore nor sometimes does the writer feel the need to make more of what it is but still! Thank you for skillsâ€ïž
thank you so much for reading and enjoying that fic!! i have thought of a second part that iâve tentatively titled âalways an angel, never a godâ after the boygenius song not strong enough. i havenât written anything for it, but the premise would hinge on the reader falling deeper into the cult mentality and potentially usurping joel.
iâm trying really hard to focus on the wips i have right now so for the time being, that one can be considered a one shot!
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thank you for mentioning me!! đ
Hello!
I know you have a lot of Joelâs right now so this isnât a request or anything, Iâm just saying Joel would make a great cult leader đđœ Lincoln Joel sure seems to know how to brainwash and Raider Joel is such a leader đ
Love your writing a lot!
Ty friend đ I agree! Especially Lincoln being skilled at psychological manipulation đ”âđ«
Check out these cult leader Joels:
Devotion by @noxturnalpascal, it's a series and the world is intricate, a lot to dig into.
Pieces of him by @xdaddysprincessxx dead dove
Real gods require blood by @proxima-writes
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