she is blessed among women…

Rosh || 32 || she/her multifandom || 18+ ONLY notifs blog: wayward-dreamers-library masterlist || ao3

[wayward-dreamer]

Incentive

Pairing: Contractor!Joel x F!Real estate agent!Reader (no outbreak!au)

Word count: 7.8k

Summary: You're coming up on a deadline to put a house on the market and need Joel's help with some unexpected, but necessary renovations. When he gives you the bad news that it might take longer than your desired date, you find a way to sweeten the deal.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, friends to lovers, semi co-workers to lovers, the big dial joke, age gap (Joel is 36, reader is early 30s), smut: dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), really brief rimming, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it people), sex on a client's bed, rough sex, hair pulling, doggystyle, mating press, creampie, minor post-sex insecurities, but Joel reassures reader, Joel's pretty swoon worthy in this if I do say so myself, fluff. Reader described with female anatomy, has hair long enough to tie up, no use of y/n.

A/N: It's currently cold and raining in Australia, but that doesn't mean I can't envision a Joel Miller summer. Had to turn up the heat somehow, am I right? ;) Anyway, happy reading! :)

Main Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Characters Masterlist | Read on Ao3

The Texas heat had officially turned you into a puddle.

Despite the air conditioning on in your car, you wiped at your brow as you made your way through suburban streets, taking turns sharper than you should’ve been in order to get to your destination. When you pulled into the driveway of a two-storey, brick facade and manicured lawns, you sighed in relief. You cut the engine, picked up your large leather tote from the passenger seat and swung it over your shoulder, and said a quick prayer that you didn’t burst into flames when you stepped out into hellfire. You practically held your breath as you slammed the driver’s door behind you, hearing the beep as your car locked and you walked up the two steps to the front entrance. You perched your sunglasses on top of your head as you dug out the spare keys you had been given by the owner, unlocking the front door and stepping into a slightly less warm interior.

You glanced around the living area, stopping the thermostat immediately, and cranked up the temperature. You heard the air hiss as it started, feeling it slowly filtering in and cooling the place down. You dropped the keys and your sunglasses on the coffee table, placing your purse on the couch and taking out all the work that you had brought with you. You were thankful the owners were friendly, clients you had known for a while and wanted you to put their house on the market for them, trusting no one else. You had met with them at the office, and when they eventually got you into the house to take a look, you weren’t prepared for how much of a fixer upper it was. You looked between your notes, and lifted your eyes up to the different parts of the house that would need to be renovated, shaking your head as you thought about the deadline you had been given by your boss.

You had a month to get the house ready before it needed to be put on the market. Everything was moving so fast these days, and considering time was money now, you couldn’t afford to slack off. Not that you ever did, you loved your job and took it very seriously, but you had hoped that there might be some leeway in the timeline. When your boss told you there wasn’t, you had to call in contractors you could trust.

You took out your phone from your pocket as it pinged, a new text waiting for you. You opened it, biting your lip to keep the smile off your face.

Be there in 10.

It was from Joel, the only contractor you had come to trust. Him and his brother and their team of guys, to be exact. You had worked with them for a few years, on and off with different projects, so when it came to this place you knew you needed someone who wouldn’t bullshit you about the work that needed to be done. They were really good at what they did, extremely professional and it didn’t hurt that Joel was very easy on the eyes.

So easy, in fact, that it had made you want to throw all that professionalism out the window on more than one occasion.

You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts, fixing your purple, sleeveless ruffled blouse and smoothing a hand down your black, pencil skirt as you carried your files into the kitchen. You took out one of the bottles of water from the fridge, having had permission from your client to help yourself to whatever while they were away. You sat up on one of the bar stools, flipping through pages of comps as you drank down a large gulp of water, your eyes scanning over numbers and graphs. Just as you were about to make yourself a little comfortable and slip your black heels off, the doorbell rang and echoed through the house.

You slid off the stool, fixed your skirt and walked down the hall to the front door, your heels clicking against the laminate floors. One of the things on the list that needed fixing. You swung the door open and expected to get slapped in the face by the heat, but you weren’t expecting for your heart to start beating rapidly at the sight of Joel in front of you. He wore a grey t-shirt that pulled tight across his broad frame, medium wash jeans and his signature work boots, all things that instantly had your mouth filling with saliva.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted you, his perfect lips pulling into a soft smile. His Southern charm was intact and making you swoon inwardly already.

“Hey, come on in,” you suddenly found the words, smiling politely. “Get out of the heat…”

He stepped in and walked past you, allowing you to take a quick glance outside, a frown pulling at your brows as you turned back to him. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Drove over here from another job, so I left him in charge,” he replied, shrugging as he faced you, clipboard in hand and ready to work. “So, just me, I’m ‘fraid.”

“Right,” you squeaked, covering it up by clearing your throat, shutting the door.

This was definitely going to be a problem. You had never been alone with him, thankful that Tommy had always been around and kept you from throwing yourself at Joel. You squared your shoulders as you joined him in the hallway, clasping your hands. You were a professional, you could do this. You couldn’t let some stupid crush get in the way of you doing your job.

“Well, I can already see one of the things we gotta work on,” he observed, his gaze looking down at the laminate floors, his pen gesturing from them to the living area, covered in beige carpet.

“Yeah, it all needs to be ripped out including the tile in the kitchen,” you explained, waving a finger as you pointed at the rooms. “Replaced with wood flooring throughout, and the kitchen needs a whole remodel.”

He made quick notes on his board, before he nodded. “Let’s take a look…”

You both walked into the kitchen, Joel letting out a surprised whistle as he saw the interiors. The cabinetry was all dark mahogany, with ornate designs in black piping. The countertops were granite, a dark grey almost black and the appliances were all black too.

“This guy in the mafia or something?” he joked, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You know I don’t really want to know,” you retorted, making him chuckle lightly. You tried not to let that sound affect you, but god, it was really doing something for you. You stepped over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water for him too, handing it over.

“Ah! You’re an angel,” he muttered, dropping his clipboard on the island and cracking the seal.

Joel tipped his head as he drank it down, hard gulps making his throat bob. You tried not to look, distracting yourself by tracing your finger along the countertop, but as a droplet of water ran down his chin and his neck, your gaze couldn’t help but follow it as it collected along the neckline of his shirt, slightly damp from sweat. He lifted his head back up, taking the collar in his hand and wiping it across his mouth, and you felt your thighs clench at the action. You felt crazy, thousands of scenarios racing through your mind every time you saw him, and this time was no different. He had no idea how sexy he was with even the smallest of gestures, or if he did know he sure didn’t know the effect it was having on you in that moment.

“So,” you carried on, turning away from him as he screwed the cap back on the bottle. “As you can see… it’s dated as hell. Not enticing to new homeowners at all.”

“Got that right,” he added, taking a small stroll around the length of the kitchen, before he faced you. “You got an idea of what they want done?”

“Yeah, it’s all in here,” you said, leaning over the counter and taking out a few papers. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve noticed Joel’s eyes wandering over your curves, but you weren’t. You turned back to him, handing them over. “You can keep those, I’ve got copies.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” he husked, that soft smile once again pulling at his features as he took them from you.

You smiled briefly, clearing your throat. “No problem.”

You waited a few minutes as he looked over the kitchen remodel ideas that your clients had given you to hand over to Joel. You watched as he took the tape measure out of his back pocket, took a few measurements of different parts of the kitchen, before scribbling them down. You saw the way he frowned, hunched over the counter as his eyes darted between the pages and the notes he just took. When he noticed you waiting, he stood up straight as his brow eased. Whatever he was thinking, he clearly didn’t want to tell you yet.

“Upstairs?” you asked, softly.

“Lead the way,” he replied, gesturing for you to go first.

You walked back down the hall, hearing his heavy footsteps follow behind you. “There’s also some wiring issues that need to be fixed.”

“I’ll have to get another guy on that,” he informed you.

You nodded, making a mental note of that as you climbed the carpeted stairs, another change you pointed out to him. The owners wanted it to be in the same wood as the flooring for the rest of the living area. You were fully aware of his presence behind you, adding a swing to your hips with every step you took, matching the swish of your ponytail. You couldn’t help it when all you hoped for was him grabbing you by your waist and throwing you down right there on the stairs, having his way with you. You hated the fact that you had to pretend everything was okay, that all you were was semi co-workers and nothing more.

You both walked the length of the top floor, as you added that nothing really needed changing there apart from things in the master suite. You led him in there, stopping in front of the walk-in closet. You leaned against one side of the archway, Joel against the other side and in close proximity to you. You tried not to make it obvious when you gulped nervously, barely even glancing over to him as you looked around the small room.

“The uh, the wife didn’t want to make this any bigger especially if they weren’t staying,” you explained, your gaze fixated on one of the shelves to avoid looking at him. “But considering I’m finding them houses with closets twice this size, I think we can stand to make it another couple of square feet.”

“We sure can try,” he muttered, nodding as he noted it down. “Twice this size, huh? That’s insane.”

“Right? Must be nice,” you scoffed, taking one last look around before moving onto the master bath. “Nothing much here, just cosmetic work. Changing taps, cabinetry, all that.”

“Easy,” he commented, looking around the room.

“Well, that’s it,” you stated, stepping back from the bathroom and plopping yourself down on the foot of the king-size, shiny and ornate mahogany bed. “So, do you think guys will be able to get this all done in a month?”

Joel huffed a small laugh as he continued to look over all his notes, leaning against the dark wood dresser across from the bed. A silence fell between you both as you waited for him to finish making estimates in his head, your left leg crossing over your right as you adjusted your skirt. You saw Joel’s gaze briefly lift up with that action, a small shiver running up your spine when he went back to his clipboard. It excited you, but also made you all the more nervous to be alone with them.

You had liked him from the first time you met, a quick plastering issue on a condo you needed to sell. He was quiet, kept to himself mostly as you got to know about them through Tommy, clearly the talker of the two of them. It was Tommy that told you how they got started, that he had been married to a woman named Maria for two years and counting, and that Joel had a 14 year old daughter, Sarah. As time went on and you kept meeting on different projects, Joel began to loosen up more. A small joke here, a light flirtation there. Enough to get your blood pumping and your thighs clenching. He had been just as he was now, tousled dark hair, soft brown eyes, tanned skin under tight t-shirts in varying colors, and a perky tush that looked great in denim. He had rugged good looks, and a kindness that came with it that surprised you at first, but made so much sense as you got to know him over the years. You wanted him in every way possible, but given the nature of both your jobs and having to work together occasionally, it was a risk. It also didn’t help that he had responsibilities outside of work that you didn’t want to interfere with.

In conclusion, Joel Miller was unattainable.

Despite the fact that you had caught him looking at you so many times, you weren’t really sure how he felt. He could just be caught up in the moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself and find out he didn’t feel the same way you did.

“It’s a big job,” he started, as he split his focus between you and his notes. “With all this work, including the wiring like you said, that I’m definitely gonna need more manpower for, you’re looking at… six weeks minimum.”

Your eyes widened at that. “Six weeks? Minimum?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?” you asked, feeling your heart thumping harder for a reason other than Joel.

“Positive,” he replied, his brown eyes meeting yours.

“Joel, please, you gotta help me out here,” you reasoned, frowning. “If you’re bringing more guys on, can’t you work faster?”

“Faster? Sure, how much faster?” he questioned, his brows raised in enthusiasm. “‘Cause you see, we got this uh, big dial called “The Constructo-Meter”. The more you turn it, the faster we go.”

He curled his fingers as if he was gripping something, twisting his wrist in a turning motion as he chuckled at his own dumb joke, but you didn’t find it funny. Your face fell into a sullen expression, your shoulders slumped as a long exhale left you.

“I’m laughing on the inside,” you mumbled, glancing up at him through your lashes.

“Sorry, bad joke,” he apologized, his gaze sincere and a little sombre. “Wish I had better news for ya, sweetheart.”

You’d kill any other man for calling you that, but never Joel. He never meant it in a condescending way, and it just felt natural coming from him, like it was a reflection of the way he was brought up. You actually liked hearing it from him, and it gave you that giddy feeling you had tried so hard to ignore.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Though you’re buying the tequila I’ll be drowning myself in once I’m fired.”

He frowned, a soft hum escaping him as he stared at you. “Can’t ya talk to your boss? See if he can get that stick out his ass and give you some more time?”

“Unfortunately not, I think that stick is very much intact,” you concluded, rolling your eyes as you thought about the reaction that awaited you once you told him the news.

You winced slightly as a pain flared up in your left thigh, stretched over your right leg. You held your skirt in place and adjusted yourself, slowly uncrossing them before draping the right over the left. You raised your head and saw that this time, Joel was very much staring at you. More specifically, your legs in the above-knee length skirt you were wearing. Your eyes locked and he realized quickly that you had caught him in the act, a small smile pulling at your lips as he hastily turned his face away. A tense, sensually charged silence fell between you, and you knew in that moment you had to take advantage of it.

“See something you like, Miller?” you asked, your voice light and teasing.

He cleared his throat, his big brown eyes briefly glancing at you before looking away again, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “N-Nope, nothing.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I just caught you looking at me,” you stated, a seductive tone to your words. “Like I have so many times before.”

Suddenly, in a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, your fingers skimmed down your neck and toyed with the neckline of your blouse. You captured one of the buttons, flicking it open instantly to reveal more of your cleavage. Just as your fingers slipped down to the second button, Joel turned his head to look back at you, his brown eyes suddenly darker.

“I guess I was lookin’ at ya,” he husked, his voice deep and rough. “Is that a problem, darlin’?”

You shook your head, your gaze unwavering from his as you opened the next button, the lace of your black bra showing. “The only problem is what we’re gonna do about it.”

A smirk pulled across his lips as he slowly pushed himself off the dresser, sauntering towards the bed and closing the gap between the two of you. He stood in front of you, your gaze shifting up to see him towering over you. Your chest heaved as you breathed heavily, noticing his eyes on the rise and fall of your breast. The professionalism you prided yourself on was about to be thrown out the window, but at that moment you couldn’t care less. Not when the man you had fantasized about so many times was standing right in front of you, the scent of his cologne mixed with wood reaching your senses.

You saw his throat constrict as he swallowed, unwilling to look away from you. “What are we gonna do about it?”

“Well,” you started, uncrossing your legs and sliding your hands down your skirt, tugging the hem up as you shifted off the bed. “First, I think you need a little incentive for this project to get done.”

You pulled the skirt up around your hips, your legs spreading as you sank to your knees, the carpet pressing into your skin. You gazed up at him with a sensuous glint in your eye, your hands sliding up his thick thighs and over the bulge that had grown in his jeans. You moaned softly as he let out a small groan, his brown orbs following every movement of yours, his breath hitching when you leaned in and pressed your lips over his covered hard-on.

“Maybe we-maybe we shouldn’t,” he stuttered, his hand finding your shoulder and pushing you away lightly. “Not here…”

He was still trying to be the Southern gentleman and you appreciated him for that, but that wasn’t going to get you what you both needed at that point.

“The client's out for the week, no one’s coming home any time soon,” you reassured him, reaching for his belt. You quickly unbuckled it, pulling the zipper down in the process as you stared up at him, smiling seductively. “You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Having me on my knees, just like this?”

He huffed a strangled laugh. “More than you know.”

“Good, because I’ve thought about your cock down my throat more times than I can count, too,” you confessed, biting your lip.

Your hands pulled his jeans open, your eyes widening as you tugged his boxers down and his hard cock sprung free, slapping against his pelvis. The guttural whimper that escaped you would’ve been embarrassing if it had been anyone else, but not with him. He was huge, his girth thick and veiny, the head flushed in a deep pink. He was perfect. Your eyes met briefly, a playful glint in his as he shrugged, acknowledging your appreciation of how well endowed he was. Your tongue slipped out between your lips, running along the underside of his cock before you softly sucked at the tip, licking at the bead of pre-cum. A low grunt left him as his eyes fluttered, wanting to watch you but as you repeated the action, taking a few inches into your wet, hot mouth, he couldn’t keep them open. You sucked softly at first, your throat relaxing with each extra inch you took, a small gag coming from you when he pressed against the back of it.

“Oh fuck, darlin’, your mouth’s too fuckin’ good,” he groaned, his large hand finding the back of your head, fingers wrapping around the meticulous ponytail you had made.

You pulled back slightly, dropping a line of your saliva along his shaft, one of your hands stroking him as you breathed heavily, gazing up at him. “Better than you imagined?”

“God, you got no fuckin’ clue, sweetheart,” he husked, gripping your pony tight. “Oh, fuckin’ shit…”

He threw his head back as you took him in again, all the way to hilt, gagging as your throat contracted around him. You pulled back a little before dropping down again, bobbing your head back and forth as you set a hard pace. Your hand slipped down to his balls, rolling them between your fingers and as the other groped his thigh to keep yourself steady. You moaned around his length, the vibration running through him and causing him to shiver, his grip on your hair tightening. You continued pleasuring him, your rhythm picking up as your throat glugged with each thrust into your mouth, saliva collecting at the sides. Your eyes stung, tears brimming at the waterline, but you didn’t dare stop. He cupped the sides of your face, his hips shifting forward with each stroke, fucking you in return and making you moan around him again.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last if you keep goin’,” he warned, his eyes flying open as he tilted his head to look at you.

You pulled back with a harsh gasp, breathing heavily as your hand pumped over him, messily with your spit. “Want you to cum down my throat, Joel, please… I wanna feel it so bad.”

“I don’t think so, darlin’,” he muttered, shaking his head as he stepped back slightly. He leaned forward, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he helped you stand to your feet. His eyes stared deeply into yours, something new and exhilarating behind them. “Not before I feel that gorgeous pussy of yours.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, grabbing his t-shirt in your fists. You had never been so turned on in your life, and you should’ve known a blowjob wouldn’t have been enough. This man wanted you, and you wanted him. In every way possible.

“Turn around, hands and knees on the bed,” he ordered, his voice deep and rough as his breath fanned against your lips.

You smiled softly as your eyes darkened, shifting back slowly towards the bed. You turned around, crawling up on the silky covers and reaching down to your heels.

“Nope, those stay on,” he added, one brow raised as he watched you.

You moaned softly as you took your hand away, a small shiver running up your back at his intense gaze. He wasn’t playing around, and it just amplified your delirious need for him. You spread your thighs as your hands and knees pressed into the covers, the heat in your core flaring up as you heard him stand behind you. Your skirt was already hiked up from your previous activity, giving him a perfect view of your black lace thong. It covered nothing, letting him see the glistening folds of your mound, the sight eliciting a low growl from him. The cool breeze of the air conditioning met your sopping sex as he pulled the thong aside, making you whimper as you waited in anticipation of what he was going to do to you.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he husked, his hand sliding up one of your thighs. “Perfect little pussy, perfect ass-”

His words were cut off as he lifted his hand, bringing it down against the left cheek in a harsh smack. You jolted, eyes widening as you moaned, loudly. The initial sting lasted a second or two, giving way to an ebbing pleasure. He repeated the action at the right, harder this time, your moan increasing in volume as your hands fisted the sheets. As you relished in the glorious heat across your skin, he raised one knee on the bed and bent over behind you, his tongue licking a long stripe over your folds.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, glancing back at him.

“So fucking wet already,” he stated, smirking as he slid his fingers over your wetness. “Sucking my dick got you drippin’, huh, darlin’?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed.

He chuckled lightly, moving in and stroking his tongue over you again. You whimpered as he continued the action, groaning softly as his skilled muscle slipped further between your folds. It found your clit, moving around it in tight circles, causing you to moan wantonly as your head dropped down onto the mattress, your ass up in the air and completely his to take.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he muttered against your tight heat. “Sweetest little pussy I ever had…”

Without another word, he grabbed onto your hips and pressed in further, continuing his ministrations as he alternated between your swollen nub and your folds. Your eyes snapped closed as your mouth fell open, strings of pleasured noises and expletives leaving you as he refused to ease up. His tongue moved to your entrance, teasing the edge of it as he sucked at your folds, groaning against you. You were absolutely overwhelmed already, the way his skilled muscle brought you so much euphoria was enough to make you lose your mind already, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. You felt your walls clench and you knew you were close, but Joel was far from done using his mouth and tongue on you. You felt him smirk against your pussy as he pulled back slightly, kissing up the curve of your ass as he spread your cheeks, his wet muscle teasing your puckered hole. Your eyes widened as you mewled loudly into the covers, feeling his tongue circle around the tight ring once, twice before he pulled back and kissed your thigh, moving back down to your mound. You had never had anyone do that to you, frankly too nervous to ever do that for the first time with someone you had just met, but you were so open and available to Joel. It should’ve scared you, but considering how much time you had spent in close proximity, it made you more comfortable with him than you had been with other lovers.

Him already knowing you so intimately, knowing exactly what drove you crazy, was an incredible feat. Just by working with him for the last few years, on and off for different projects, clearly it had been enough to anticipate what made you tick. His tongue slid into your entrance, thrusting back and forth as more of your wetness collected, a grunt leaving him as he continued his erotic torture. His head shook from side to side as he pressed in further, practically motorboating your sex, causing a shriek to escape your throat. You could feel yourself slipping, your coil tightening as you reached closer and closer to the edge. You panted as your cheek pressed into the covers, fists clenching the sheets so hard you thought you were going to rip them.

“J-Joel, I-I’m so close,” you whimpered, tears stinging your eyes once more. “I-I need-I need to cum, Joel, please-”

“Oh, I know, baby, can feel you grippin’ my tongue like a fuckin’ vice,” he growled, pulling back and replacing his skilled muscle with his equally skilled fingers. “Cum on my face, sweetheart, wanna feel it all over me…”

His mouth went back to your entrance, tongue continuing to thrust into you as his fingers rubbed over your bundle of nerves, both working in tandem to push you over the precipice. With another few strokes of both his tongue and his fingers, you felt the dam break. You cried out, his name falling from your lips as your juices flowed over his waiting mouth. He lapped at everything you had to give him, his lips sucking at your folds to get every drop.

“Fuckin’ shit, you’re so perfect,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against the curve of your ass.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed deeply, trying to calm down after the incredible bliss you had just experienced. You didn't have much time to recover however, hearing Joel’s belt clink as he pulled his jeans down a little further, his hands on your hips as he pulled you back and closer to him. You bit your lip as you felt his cock press against you, his hand taking hold of it and smacking the head against your folds, making you keen with impatience. You pushed back against him, your wet canal teasing the tip as it suctioned around him, before pulling back. You did it again, a naughty giggle escaping you as he growled in frustration.

“You want it so bad, don’t ya, dirty girl?” he asked, the timbre of his voice rough and deep. He raised his hand and brought it down against the right globe of your ass, hard.

“Oh god!” you cried out.

“Just call me Joel, darlin’,” he jested, snickering as his hand smoothed over the stinging flesh.

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, turning your head to look at him. “I want it, I want it so bad, give it to me…”

“What do ya want, baby? Tell me,” he instructed, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

You let out a guttural sound, somewhere between arousal and irritation. “Your cock, please, I need your cock inside me!”

Without any hesitation, his cock slammed into you in one, powerful thrust. A shrill moan fell from your lips, eyes widening as you felt his girth stretch your walls, sheathing his length completely. He wasted no time as he pulled out briefly, thrusting back in and instantly setting a hard, fast pace. His hips smacked against the curve of your ass, wet skin slapping together as your hands continued to pull at the covers. You tried to gaze back at him, but you could barely keep your head up, too far gone from the pleasure he was giving you.

“‘S that what you wanted?” he asked, his words chopped between harsh breaths. “Tell me you wanted this big cock fucking you so deep, come on…”

“Y-Yes!” you shrieked, your body shaking from the power of his thrusts, limbs burning as you could hardly hold yourself up anymore. “Yes, I wanted your big cock fucking me so deep, Joel, fucking me hard, dreamt about it so many times.”

He grunted, his hands digging deeper into the flesh of your hips. “Oh, fuck yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear. You’re so fucking tight, baby, feel so good.”

Your arms gave out as you fell forward on the bed, your breasts pressed into the covers while your hips remained up, held by him as he perfectly glided back and forth from your wet heat. The wet smack of his pelvis against your ass joined the cacophony of other sounds coming from both of you, sharp grunts leaving his lips with each thrust as you let out a never ending string of moans and whimpers.

Joel reached for the edge of his t-shirt and whipped it off, throwing it somewhere behind him. His arms slid under you, lifting you up into his big, strong arms as they wrapped around you. His chest pressed against your back, his hips continuing to thrust up into you at a brutal and intoxicating pace as he reached around, unbuttoning the rest of your blouse. He yanked the fabric out of your skirt, throwing it in the general direction of wherever his shirt was, taking the clasp of your bra in one hand and expertly flicking it open. You moaned softly as he pulled it off you, his large hands cupping your breasts, his fingers deftly rolling your nipples into tight buds as your head fell back on his shoulder.

“You said you dreamt about this so many times, right?” he whispered in your ear, the deep, soft rumble making you shiver in his hold.

You nodded, unable to form words as you hooked your arm up around his neck, grabbing onto him.

“Me too, darlin’, more times than I can remember,” he confessed, leaning down to kiss along your jaw. “But this? It’s better than anythin’ my mind could’ve ever thought up.”

“Oh god, Joel,” you whimpered, tucking your face into his neck.

“Your pussy feels better than I could’ve imagined, so wet and warm… grippin’ around my cock so tight, feels fuckin’ incredible, sweetheart.”

As he spoke those words, the curve of his nose nuzzled against your neck, his lips kissing along your skin as a soft cry escaped you. His hips shifted up, slamming into you as he picked up the pace. Beads of sweat rolled down both of your bodies from the rapturous way he was fucking you. Your breasts bounced from the impact as he continued to caress them, his mouth at your neck, nipping and licking at your pulse. You felt the familiar feeling blooming in your core once more, and you knew that you were close, wanting nothing more than to feel Joel lose himself in this euphoria at the same time as you. You opened your eyes, tilting your head to look up at him, his face so close as his lips brushed over yours. Short, strained gasps escaped your mouth as he pummeled into you, your need to tell him that you were on the edge dying on your tongue. One of his hands slipped down from your breast to move between your thighs, his fingers rubbing your clit causing you to moan wantonly into his parted lips, reveling in the fact that he already knew your body so well.

“J-Joel,” you stammered, gripping his curls tight in your hand. “Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum-”

“I know, I can feel it,” he groaned, nipping at your jaw. “Want you cumming so hard, baby, want you soaking my cock.”

As his fingertips worked faster on your swollen nub, his hips smacked harder against you, helping you chase that blissful release. He thrusted up into your wet canal once, twice more until you couldn’t hold on any longer. Your hand held onto his arm that was holding you up to anchor yourself, feeling the intense wave crash over you. Your eyes squeezed shut, vision turning white as your walls contracted around him, nails digging into his skin as his name fell from your lips in a sound somewhere between a moan and scream. You felt your arousal dripping out of you, running down his shaft and your inner thighs, but you barely had time to recover.

He grabbed you by your waist as he pulled out of you, a whine escaping you at the loss of him. It quickly turned into a squeal as he roughly turned you onto your back, throwing your calves onto his shoulders, mindful of your heels. Without any warning, he slammed back into you, your eyes widening as you shrieked. You briefly glanced down to see his thick cock pounding into you, a sticky white ring of your arousal around his girth, making you moan softly. Your hand followed along with your eyeline as it moved up the softness of his belly to the broadness of his chest and shoulders, gripping onto the back of his neck as he fucked you into the mattress. You met his gaze to see his jaw tight and his eyes glowering with an intensity you hadn’t witnessed before, his brown orbs flitting over your features. The rhythm of his hips faltered, and you knew he was close to his own release, too.

“Where do you want me, darlin’?” he asked, his words coming out in short, strained breaths.

“Inside,” you replied, your voice completely unrecognizable to your own ears, husky and desperate as you cared more about feeling him than any decorum. That went out the window several moments ago.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunted, trying so hard to hold on. “You sure?”

“I-I’m on the pill,” you nodded frantically, wrapping your arms around him. “Please, Joel, please cum inside me. I wanna feel it, fill me up, make me feel it for days…”

That was more than enough for him as his hips slapped against yours in rapid thrusts, your walls clenching tight around him once more and feeling his cock pulse into you. His neck strained back, veins popping up against his skin as he let out a guttural moan, spurts of his seed flooding your tight heat. You hummed in a quiet delight as you felt him coat your walls, giving you everything he had. His head dropped down as he panted heavily, his arms shaking as he continued to hold himself up above you. With a quivering hand, you reached up and cupped his jaw, softly stroking your thumb along his beard. At your touch, his gaze meets yours again, a new, almost shy look reflected in his brown eyes.

He carefully pulled out of you, a hiss leaving your lips at the loss of him but also the delectable burn in your thighs from how hard he had ravished you. You bit your lip as you felt his cum trickling out of you, your legs automatically closing to keep it from leaking onto the bedspread. He laid down beside you, both of you breathing harshly as you came down from the high, an awkward silence stretching on the longer you both stayed still.

You felt like your heart had sank into your stomach when he sat up, groaning softly as his bones clicked and he grasped his jeans around his waist, moving off the bed. You suddenly felt completely exposed, which was strange considering what you had just done, but you were feeling more vulnerable now as your arms came up to cover yourself, eyes frantically searching for your bra. You picked it up off the floor, your mind already reeling with self doubt and regret, not even registering Joel walking out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth. You stood and clasped the bra around yourself quickly, reaching for your top.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” he husked, stepping in front of you, a frown pulling his brows down. “What’re you doin’?”

You glanced around the room, thanking the Lord above you didn’t see any stains on the bedspread, clutching your blouse to your chest as you met his soft, concerned eyes. You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes for an entirely different and less enjoyable reason than before.

“I’m so-I’m so embarrassed,” you breathed, a tear finally escaping and rolling down one cheek. “This isn’t how I do things, this isn’t how I work-”

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed you, cupping your face in his large hands. “It’s just you and me here, right? Like you said?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out properly.

“Then it’s just between you and me,” he stated, slowly sitting you down on the edge of the bed. He knelt down in front of you, hands still cradling your cheeks. “Wasn’t lyin’ when I said I’ve been thinkin’ about this a long time, darlin’.”

You looked at him, huffing a small laugh. “Me neither.”

A whisper of a smile pulled at lips. “‘Bout fuckin’ time we did something about it, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, giggling quietly.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “And it was pretty fuckin’ incredible, right?”

“Right,” you nodded, biting your lip.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice deep but soft like his gaze, holding the washcloth up.

You nodded, gulping slightly as you opened your legs, a little hum leaving you as you felt the warm cloth between your folds. He leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek as he cleaned you up, pulling your thong back in place. He stood up, kissing your forehead in the same tenderness, making your eyes flutter closed. Your previous doubts dwindled slightly, but there was one thing still grating at the back of your mind. As he turned his back to you, allowing you to admire the muscles that sculpted it before he pulled his shirt back on, you knew exactly what it was.

Between the throes of passion you had found yourselves in, his lips had never touched yours.

You redressed in silence, pulling your skirt down and smoothing the fabric, buttoning your blouse up and tucking it into the waistband. You fixed your ponytail, making sure it was meticulous once again, before you both turned back to each other. Joel smiled softly, and you tried to return it but you couldn’t help the way your stomach flipped, nervously.

“Joel,” you sighed, unsure of how to say what you wanted to. Maybe all he wanted was to fool around, and this little tryst was satisfying enough for him, which meant he had no desire to kiss you. Maybe he didn’t want more, and when he said he had pictured this countless times, he only meant sex and nothing more.

Before you could jump to any further conclusions, however, Joel stepped in front of you. His body, well built over his time in construction, stood tall over you and barely an inch away as his arms suddenly slid around your waist. You gasped in surprise as you stared up at him, the force of him pulling you close automatically causing your own arms to drape around his neck. Without sparing another second, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing, passionate kiss. Your eyes closed as you moaned against his mouth, his tongue slipping past as the intensity grew. You clung to his broad physique, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers combed through his soft curls. His lips moved over yours, a small groan escaping him as you softly nipped at his bottom one. The sparks you had felt before as he took you on your client’s bed had returned, but even stronger this time, melting those previous doubts and delusions away.

Reluctantly, he pulled away as you inhaled sharply, needing air after he kissed you breathless. He peered down at you, a smirk pulling at his perfect lips as he cupped your cheek, his thick thumb grazing your skin.

“Shoulda done that a long time ago, too,” he confessed, brows furrowing at his own stupidity.

“I thought… before we, you didn’t want to or-” you babbled, shaking your head as you tried to find the right words, but it seemed he understood as he pecked your lips softly, silencing your worries.

“Oh, I wanted to, but you had other ideas in the form of incentive, darlin’,” he teased, grinning as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes at your own hastiness, feeling a little silly for overthinking his intentions when you had been so desperate to feel him. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I ain’t complain’, sweetheart,” he reassured you.

You both leaned into each other, meeting halfway in yet another passionate kiss, but this time there was a certainty in it that calmed you, giving way to an exhilarating flutter in your stomach. He pulled away slowly, unwilling to part from you completely though as his arms tightened around you.

“Can I take you to dinner on Friday?” he asked, that deep, rumbling timbre of his tone making you shiver. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you found it completely endearing.

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling before you spoke. “Like… like a date?”

“Yeah,” he whispered against your mouth.

You beamed, unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself further into his strong body. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, tucking your face into his neck, leaving a soft kiss at his pulse. A muffled “yes” left you as you giggled, the sound causing him to chuckle, practically squeezing you in his firm embrace. When you woke up that morning, you never could’ve imagined the day turning out quite like this. You suddenly didn’t care about a deadline, all the work that needed to be done on the house, all the paperwork. None of it really mattered and would work out the way it needed to, but all you really cared about was finally being in Joel’s arms.

You both made the room decent after that, with him insisting on helping you change the bedspread despite the fact that you had thankfully left no evidence of your romp. You both walked downstairs, allowing Joel to take some more measurements before the inevitable text from Tommy chimed from his phone, asking him where the hell he was.

“I’ll talk to him tonight,” he informed you, watching you shove all your papers back in your tote. “See what we can do about getting this done within a decent timeframe. Gonna try for four weeks minimum, and six max.”

You let out a relieved sigh, throwing your arms around him again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Can’t promise anything,” he added, trying to be firm with you but finding himself smirking. “You gotta talk to that boss o’ yours, too.”

“I will,” you vowed.

As you locked up the house, you sent each other off with another sweet kiss at your car, neither of you caring about the sun blazing down on you. You went your separate ways, but as you drove back to the office to finish up the last couple of hours of the day, you smiled to yourself about everything that unfolded back at the house. You may have forgotten yourself in regards to Joel and your work for a minute back there, but you felt reassured that it wasn’t all for nothing once you both expressed how you had always felt about each other. Your worries about work didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

You had the man of your literal dreams, a date with him, and hopefully the promise of so much more in the future.

Follow @wayward-dreamers-library for notifications of when I update.

tagging my fellow pre/no outbreak and contractor!Joel lovers: @peepawmiller @pedroscurls @fuzzy

[javierpenaispunk]

Pedro Pascal at the Chanel Haute Couture Fall/Winter show in Paris.

📸 Getty Images

[kokoluwie]

Le prince ―✧˖° ♛

[experienceandobservation]

Pedro Pascal | Chanel Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2026/2027 Show in Paris, France | July 07, 2026

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL Chanel Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2026/2027 Show in Paris

[experienceandobservation]

Pedro Pascal | Chanel Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2026/2027 Show in Paris, France | July 07, 2026

[skyesdelight]

Force of Nature: Part Five

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You bring Joel as your date to a wedding where your past rears its ugly head.

Warnings: explicit language, reader has anxiety (there's some panic attacks in this one), reader has an abusive ex that is mentioned but no details, smut (piv sex, some oral), verrrryy slight dom/sub dynamic where reader is the dom 🤭 but seriously it's very tame, alcohol consumption, hurt/comfort, angst

other parts found here

We cordially invite you to celebrate the union of Carly and James...

The thick, expensive cardstock stuck to your cork board next to your desk stares you down on this particular day. The date in big, cursive letters in the center of the invitation are screaming at you. Honestly, they have been getting louder and louder with each passing week because the closer you get to the date of their wedding, the more you're reminded you already rsvp'd months ago. With a plus one.

A plus one you didn't want to include. But you had no choice. It was either include him, or skip the wedding entirely. And you know deep down he would have preferred you skip it entirely because that would have destroyed yet another friendship—one that had the potential to save you from the misery of your relationship with him.

So now you're stuck going to this wedding and sitting next to an empty chair with his fucking name in front of the plate while everyone gives you pitying looks all night, or...

Your fingers dial his number before you have time to doubt yourself.

"What's up, honey?"

Joel's deep drawl answers in the middle of the second ring. The familiar way he speaks to you stretches a smile across your face, but then you hear the power tools in the background and your smile falls.

"Oh, shit, you're on a site."

"Yeah, but—"

"I'll call you later—"

"I'm here now," he insists.

"But you're bu—"

Then Joel says your name in the way that makes your eyelids flutter and you stop talking.

"I wouldn't've answered if I couldn't talk."

You inhale slowly and nod, even though he can't see you.

"Right," you breathe, "sorry."

There's a pause on the other end, like Joel is trying to understand your tone through what little you've said so far. It's hard to read, but he picks up pretty quickly that something is troubling you simply because you're not playfully tossing witty remarks at him like you usually would.

"Everythin' okay?" he finally asks. The worry in his voice makes you feel bad.

"Yeah, no, everything's fine," you say quickly, "I just wanted to see if you're free next weekend?"

"For you? 'Course I am."

"Okay," you exhale, "but, like... would you be cool with coming to a wedding with me? As my date?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for an awkward pause while he thinks of a lame excuse, but then—

"Yeah, I'd love to."

Your eyes open.

"Really?"

"You thought I'd say no?"

"Well, no, not really. But we're just, you know... and I didn't..."

Okay, now you're making an idiot of yourself even more. You sound completely stupid. Warmth burns your cheeks as you stammer over your words, but finally Joel chuckles through the phone and you pinch your lips shut.

"I know you don't wanna label this," he says, "and that's fine. Y'know it doesn't bother me. I'll wear you down one day."

You giggle and the nerves that have been twisting around in your stomach begin to settle.

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous? You thought I wouldn't want you on my arm at a wedding and I'm ridiculous?"

You lean back in your chair and tilt your head, grinning up at the ceiling. "Alright, I gotta go."

"Wait!"

"What?" you sigh, still smiling.

"What are you wearin'?"

"Good bye!"

"I meant to the wedding!" Joel laughs.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure," you answer dryly.

You can hear the smile in his voice over the heavy machinery in the background. "C'mon. Gimme a hint."

"Something... I don't know. I might need to go shopping."

There's a pause, then Joel replies. "And what 'bout now?"

You roll your eyes. You knew it. "Something slutty."

"Really?"

"No, I'm wearing a shirt with a coffee stain on it and old jean shorts. Do you really think I'm working from home in lingerie?"

"Well, would it kill you to do it just once?"

You think about it for a second. "It might, yeah."

"My birthday's in September," he says, and you can hear the crunch of gravel under his boots as he walks back to his crew, "now you know what you can get me."

"For your birthday you want me to work from home in something slutty? That's it?"

"No, never said that's it," he corrects. "Wouldn't mind a few pictures throughout the day and an unlocked front door at five on the dot so I can let myself in. Wanna play CEO and overworked secretary—"

"Good bye! For real this time!" you laugh.

"Yeah, okay, okay," he smiles, "can I call you tonight?"

"Sure," you say, ignoring the flutter in your belly.

"Don't work too hard, honey," Joel says before hanging up.

"I'll try," you reply, then a moment later, the phone goes dead.

You set it down on your desk and take a deep breath. When your gaze settles on the wedding invitation, you feel a little better. It'll be fun with Joel. He knows how to charm a room.

You just hope you can avoid the topic of your ex for the night.

***

You're in your bathroom, hair still damp, robe cinched tightly around your waist, and a whole mess of makeup spread out in front of you when you hear the knock on your front door.

"It's open!"

Joel's heavy footsteps echo from down the hallway when he enters, then your door clicks shut and you hear a rustling of his pants where he's presumably slipping off his shoes before meandering down to your bedroom, a familiar path for him at this point.

"Hey—"

His greeting gets cut short when he sees you very much not ready in your bathroom.

"Ain't we leavin' in an hour?" he asks.

"Yeah," you reply without glancing up from your makeup bag.

"Well, as much as I love your robe, think you might be a little underdressed."

You sigh and turn your head only to find that Joel isn't ready either—not unless he plans on wearing a beat up shirt and jeans to the wedding.

"You should talk," you say. Then he smirks and pulls his wardrobe bag into view, where it had been held just outside your doorframe.

"Knew you wouldn't be ready and I didn't want the damn suit gettin' wrinkled."

"Oh, ha ha," you answer dryly before turning back to your mirror. You're more nervous than you anticipated and your indecisiveness proves it. Why are you agonizing over which eyeshadow to use?

You decide to work on your hair instead, combing it out and readying your curling iron and various products on the sink. At this rate, there's hardly a glimpse of your countertop to be seen, but there's a method to your madness.

Meanwhile, Joel is making himself comfortable in your bedroom. The television is on and you hear the mattress shift under his weight, leaving you to your devices for a while, which you appreciate. It isn't until your hair is done just the way you want it and pinned back away from your face so you can work on your makeup does Joel appear in your doorway again.

He's quiet for a bit but you can feel him there, leaning against the frame, watching you blend in your foundation and blush. It's when you lean forward on your tiptoes to apply your mascara, lips slightly parted and robe hanging loosely from your breasts do you hear the telltale sound of a camera shutter. You blink and turn your head in his direction and sure enough, Joel is leaning casually against your wall, ankles crossed and hands holding up his phone, snapping pictures.

"What are you doing?" you ask, knowing you must look crazy with one eye done and the other still bare. Joel grins and takes another picture.

"Don't got any pictures of you," he murmurs, slowly dropping his phone to his side. "And you just look so... beautiful. Like this."

"Oh, please," you exhale sarcastically, but your heart flips in your chest and heat instantly rises to your face, betraying the annoyance in your tone.

"I mean it," he chuckles, then he pockets his phone into his black pants and it's at that point you realize he's changed and he looks... really fucking hot. Your brain stutters when you take in the perfect fit of his pants, the crisp lines in his bright white button down, and the beautifully laid champagne satin tie around his neck.

Your gaze must linger too long on the way his waist looks in those pants because he has to say your name to get your attention back up to his face.

"I know that look," he teases with a wag of his finger, "gotta take me out on a date first 'fore I put out, little lady."

"History has proven that's a big, fat lie," you scoff, dragging your eyes back to the mirror. You can't stop the smirk when you hear Joel's laughter—it's always so genuine and deep. You really like that about him—he's not fake. He's just... him.

Eventually, his laughter dies down to a comfortable silence as he watches you work on your right eye, then line your lips before tapping on some lipstick and gloss. When you lightly blot and press them together to properly distribute the coverage, he groans loudly from the door, tearing your eyes away from the mirror once again.

"What?"

"Should've kissed you before you did all that."

You grin and shrug as you pack your makeup back into your bag. "Oh, well. Now you'll have to wait til later."

When you move to slide past him, his arm whips out to wrap tightly around your waist, tugging you into his side.

"Or... you'll just have to do it all again."

"Joel—don't you fucking—"

But then his mouth is pressed firmly against yours with a pleased moan, stopping your threat right in its tracks. He doesn't try to deepen the kiss, he just massages his lips against yours, savoring the small bit of intimacy before having to be reserved in public the rest of the night.

"I can't believe you," you whisper when he pulls away. Your lipgloss is smeared all over his mouth and it makes you smile before you gently work to wipe it away with your thumb.

"Sorry," he mumbles, nipping playfully at the pad of your finger.

"No you're not."

Joel chuckles. "You're right. I'm not."

It's fine. You were going to touch up your lips before getting to the event anyway. So you leave it be for now and go into your room to get your dress, which is the easiest move of your whole process. It takes literally minutes for you to slip it on and once you get a look at yourself in the mirror you think you look pretty damn good.

The dress you chose is a nude color with thin straps and square neckline. There's subtle rhinestones sewn into the sheer outer layer. They catch the light just right when you turn to look at yourself in the mirror, but the best and most fatal feature is the long slit up your left leg. It ends at a reasonable spot on your upper thigh but you make a mental note to be careful the more you drink throughout the night.

Is it a risky dress to wear to someone else's wedding? Maybe. But the look on Joel's face when he returns from fixing his hair in your bathroom makes it totally worth it.

"You like it?" you ask innocently, turning around to flash him a little leg with your hands propped on your hips.

"Jesus fuckin'—" The words fall out of his mouth as his gaze burns your skin. He isn't even close to touching you but you feel him, the tension behind his stare, as he takes in every single inch of you. Then his hand dramatically grabs onto your doorframe right before his knees buckle and you giggle.

"You—you can't—"

"What?" you grin as you begin to pack your clutch with essentials for the night.

"You can't wear that," he spits out, "I'm gonna get arrested. You're gonna get me thrown in jail."

You roll your eyes but can't stop smiling. God, he's so cute and always knows the right things to say. It's almost infuriating.

"You'll live," you assure him, tapping his cheek gently before slipping out of your room. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

"Honey, Jesus, I-I can't—"

You laugh lightly over your shoulder. "Joel! I appreciate what you're trying to do but I'm serious! We have to get on the road."

"I'm not fuckin' around," he insists, trailing after you, eyes still big as saucers. "You tryin' to kill me?"

"Just think about how good it'll feel to take this off me at the end of the night," you tease while slipping on your heels. Joel swallows tight and it's just now that you notice his neck is flushed bright red. Shit, maybe he isn't exaggerating.

"You think I'm gonna make it the whole night, then you don't know me at all," he mutters before forcing himself to take a few deep breaths to clear his head. You laugh again at the theatrics and grab your keys.

"Guess we'll find out."

***

The venue is beautiful, at least.

It's a winery you've heard of but never been to called Wimberley Valley. It's just outside of Austin, located in the admittedly beautiful hill country. Miles of open land surround the estate, allowing you a spectacular view. It's a nice change of pace, even if it's just for one night.

"Jesus," Joel murmurs once he parks your car and looks around at the sprawling venue. The area's natural beauty blends perfectly with the upscale resort and surrounding vineyards. "This place is fancy. How you know them, again?"

"I know Carly from college," you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Joel whistled low before slipping out of the car and rounding the back to open your door. He's fiddling with his suit coat before he comes to his senses and offers you his hand.

"Hope I didn't wrinkle anything," you say under your breath. You're adjusting your dress while Joel shuts the car door, but when he is about to lead you towards the building, you stop him.

"Wait—my bag—"

He frowns when he spots you holding your clutch. "Wha—"

Then you open your backseat, revealing a duffel bag, and he looks even more confused until you explain.

"I got a room," you tell him, suddenly feeling a little shy. Why didn't you ask him first? "I—I packed some clothes for you. The shirt I took and, um, sweats you left behind that, uh... that one time. It's so we can both drink and, you know, not worry about driving, or... whatever."

A slow smirk stretches across his face, giving you a glimpse of those dimples under his trimmed beard. "Or whatever, huh?"

You roll your eyes. "Joel..." you begin to say in a threatening tone, but it's too late.

"Don't think you'd make it the drive home without jumpin' my bones, I get it, it's okay."

"That is not—"

"I ain't judgin' you, it's responsible, actually," he continues, offering you the crook of his arm with a cocky smile. You loop your hand through with an exasperated sigh and allow him to lead you through the parking lot, towards the venue. "Can't blame you, either. This suit fits me like a goddamn glove."

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter as your short lived embarrassment disappears.

It's warm today, but not sweltering. You attribute that to the hilly terrain and wide open grounds that allow for cool, gentle breezes to keep all the guests comfortable. It will be the perfect day for an outdoor wedding. But even if it does get too hot, it will be easy to just slip inside the refreshingly crisp air conditioned lobby for a break since the courtyard is attached just beyond. You can see it through the floor to ceiling windows when you step up to the front desk.

"Welcome," a bubbly young girl behind the counter greets with a practiced smile. "Are you here for the ceremony, or checking in?"

"Both," you reply, then offer her your name so she can look up your reservation. As she taps away on her keyboard, Joel leans in so he can whisper in your ear.

"How much did this place cost?"

"Don't worry about it."

There's a gentle press of his hand against your lower back and you find yourself shifting your weight towards him.

"Can I pay you back?"

"You already are," you say quietly, "you're my date, remember?"

"So you want me to pay you with my body, that it?"

You playfully jab him in the shoulder as your cheeks flush with heat, mentally praying the receptionist didn't just hear his dumb joke. It doesn't appear like she did, but you never know.

"Shut up or you're walking home," you grin, and he chuckles before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He turns from the desk, hand slipping from your back to hold your duffle while his gaze slowly roams over the ornate chandeliers, twinkling string lights, gorgeous floral arrangements, and expensive looking velvet couches scattered throughout the lobby, leaving you with the stupid looking smile on your face that he left after kissing your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Here you are, fifth floor," the receptionist chirps brightly after you've signed the appropriate paperwork. You take the keycards with a grateful smile while she offers you directions to your room.

"I'll go up and drop off the bag," Joel says once you hand him his key, "meet you down here in a minute."

"Are you sure?"

"'Course. Grab us good seats," he tells you while jutting his chin towards the courtyard lined with pristine white chairs.

Once he disappears into an elevator, you wander towards the crystal clear glass doors that lead outside. You can see people already mingling with programs clutched in their hands, sharing smiles and pleasantries amongst the other guests. You quickly scan the crowds searching for any familiar faces as you find a table with programs adorned with pictures of the happy couple. There are a few photos with friends and family and you smile wistfully at the frozen moments in time. Life seemed so much simpler back then.

After picking up a program just for something to hold, you turn back to the beautifully decorated courtyard. A mix of roses, peonies, baby's breath and hydrangeas in differing shades of white and dusty pink adorn the aisle and arch. It's classy. Elegant. Very Carly. It makes you smile a little to yourself while you pick a row near the back, seats on the aisle so you can still get a good view. You set your clutch down on the chair next to you to save Joel's seat, cross your legs, and begin to peruse the program in your lap.

When you eyes land on the list of bridesmaids, your heart stops.

You forgot. How could you forget she was part of the wedding party?

Suddenly, the air feels stifling. Your face burns as the panic swells in your chest. Squeezing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath and count backwards from ten.

It's a big wedding. There's probably almost two hundred people.

You probably won't even run into her.

She'll be sitting at the front with Carly most of the night.

Maybe you can convince Joel to go back to the room early, pretend to have a headache or something.

Fuck. Fuck. Your usual calming techniques aren't working. Your hands are shaking, you can hear the program crinkling in your grip. Your mind is spiraling as you envision every single worst case scenario until—

"Hey."

His voice alone brings fresh air into your lungs. You open your eyes to find Joel sliding into his seat, holding your clutch on his lap and looking at you curiously. "You alright?"

You swallow and nod but he sees through it.

"Yeah. No. I mean—"

You must look as frantic as you feel because Joel glances around quickly before shifting in his seat to block the courtyard's view of you in your chair.

"You need to go to the restroom or the car?" he offers gently. A reassuring hand squeezes your shoulder and you take another deep breath, already feeling your pulse begin to slow.

"No, I'm good. I'm okay," you breathe. Your face feels warm but no longer hot. Your hands are still. It's passing.

"Okay," Joel says slowly, scanning your face with concern. It pulls at your chest the way his brows knit together with worry. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

You swallow again and drop your gaze. Your instinct is to dodge the question, but something about the way he's looking at you makes you speak the words before you have a chance to choke them back down.

"My ex's twin sister is a bridesmaid. I—I forgot."

Joel looks surprised you're so forthright but he has the decency to keep the moment from feeling too vulnerable.

"Is it a problem? Are you... will she bother you?"

You shake your head and shrug. You feel normal again. The blood has drained from your face and you skin doesn't feel as hot as before.

"Maybe. I don't know. Probably not. But... you remember the girl with the pool table?"

Joel frowns for a second before he remembers the story, the one about you and a friend who got kicked out of a bar in a prior life one too many times. One who you used to trust with your entire life. One who turned on you the moment the truth came out about her brother.

"Yeah."

"It's her. We were—we used to be... super close."

Joel nods. "Lemme guess," he says, "her brother's the same ex that was gonna come with you today?"

"Yeah," you sigh.

Joel thinks about it for a few minutes, watching as the rows begin to fill with guests. Laughter and mindless chatter surrounds you, ignoring your crisis in favor of small talk about the weather and sports. Then his arm drapes around the top of your chair and he sits back with a loud sigh. He fixes his tie with his other hand and you notice with a little smile he still has your clutch in his lap.

"You stick with me, honey," Joel finally says, "you'll be okay. Anyone starts bringin' up the past and I'll whisk you away for a dance or somethin'. Don't worry. Just have fun, alright?"

It's so fucking sweet. He probably has so many questions but he's not prying. His only concern is making sure you're comfortable and honestly it's... hard to get used to. But dammit if you don't really like it.

"Yeah," you say softly. Joel glances your direction and smiles. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything back. Just settles in and watches the pianist warm up, entirely unbothered and relaxed. So you sit back and try to do the same.

***

The ceremony was flawless. Exactly the type of wedding you'd expect from Carly, who always was the preppy one. The one who got her first small designer handbag way too young. The one who grew up going to country clubs and literally summered in the Hamptons at least twice that you knew of. But she was always kind, she never allowed her family's wealth change her. She never thought she was better than anyone and was always welcoming. Carly is the girl who proved you shouldn't judge a book by its cover because when you first met her and saw her perfect bleach blonde hair, brand new Ralph Lauren polo, and denim miniskirt with a chic Louis Vuitton purse, you definitely judged. But it only took a few days for you to realize you were wrong, then you ended up being close friends with her and a handful of other girls for the remainder of your college career.

During the wedding, you avoided looking in her direction. You kept your gaze locked on Carly's stunning smile. When the bridal party exited after the vows, you chickened out and ducked your head so she wouldn't see you.

If Joel noticed, he didn't say anything.

The glass of wine you have during the cocktail hour before the reception helped ease those nerves a bit. You notice a few familiar faces amongst the crowd of guests mingling around fancy hors d'oeuvres but you keep to yourselves, tucked away on the edge of the courtyard pressed against a tall table meant for two.

Joel follows your lead. He doesn't pressure you. He talks about the ceremony and makes jokes about the impossible to pronounce appetizers. He smoothes down his satin tie and nods politely when he makes eye contact with a guest or worker. He offers to get you food so you don't put yourself at risk of bumping into anyone you're not ready to speak to yet.

Everything's going well until the ballroom opens to allow guests to find their tables. When you wander up to search for your name card, you feel sick when you find his name along with yours.

You know it wasn't done to hurt you. The RSVP was sent back months ago. Carly's wedding planner likely sent all the names to the printer long before everything came to light, but still... seeing his name with yours causes your body to lock up. You take note of the table number and crumple the card in your fist until it's unrecognizable, but Joel already saw. He caught a glimpse of the name paired with yours and his lips press together tightly before planting a comforting hand on your back to lead you away.

"What table?" he asks softly.

"Ten."

Your voice sounds tight and foreign. His palm rubs over your lower back, a gentle reminder to stay present, to not let the fear and panic win, that it's going to be okay. So you take a deep breath and let him lead you to your table, where you choose your seats and refuse to put your name card in front of your plates.

"I hope steak is okay," you say weakly. It's the only hint of acknowledgment you want to give around the fact that these decisions were made long before Joel.

"Better than okay," he grins, then squeezes your knee under the table. The tightness in your chest loosens, your body picking up on Joel's relaxed energy and trying to match it. It's going to take a long time for your body to stop reacting to every minor situation with fight or flight mode, but Joel is making it easier.

You settle once your table fills. Some names you recognize, others you don't, but after introductions you realize everyone at table ten are all friends of Carly. Three you remember from school, the rest are a mix of her coworkers or friends growing up. It's perfect, actually. No one knows you well enough to remember your past but not distantly enough where it's awkward for you to exchange comfortable conversation. You manage to loosen up and enjoy yourself for a while, even after the bridal party does their entrance, you manage to keep the anxiety in check. It's after dinner when you're a couple drinks in and your walls have come down that you're met with the next challenge of the night.

The tone of the evening has shifted from swanky classical music to more bass heavy dance music and some ballads. The sun is almost set, the lighting is dim, the conversations around the room have gotten louder and more jovial, no doubt fueled by the open bar. With drinks in hand from the bar—you with some type of sparkling wine that sounded good, Joel with a neat glass of whiskey—you eye up the courtyard through the windows. The ballroom is growing a little stuffy so you decide to wander outside together, get some fresh air, and enjoy the last of the sun's rays.

"This place must've set them back," Joel says once you've found a quiet bench overlooking an impressive garden. Nearby is a large fire pit area with several seating options, but there's already a small crowd and you feel like taking a break from people.

"Her family is loaded," you explain, "I think her dad did something with investments? Or he was a stock broker? I can't remember."

Joel hums, stretches his arm across the back of the bench, and takes a sip from his glass. "Glad we finally found a quiet spot for ourselves."

"Me, too." You relax into the bench, angling your body in Joel's direction just a bit. His dark gaze flickers down at your dress. "Thanks for coming with me. I couldn't have done it alone."

Joel just smiles. "Yeah, you could've. But I'm more than happy to be here."

Some laughter spilling out from the ballroom draws your attention when the French doors swing open. Heels clicking against stone and giggling melt with the sounds from those at the fire pit, but you don't pay it much mind because Joel is suddenly in your ear.

"You look beautiful, y'know that?" he whispers. You grin and tilt your head back in his direction. His deep brown eyes sparkle with warmth under the string lights, filling you with delight because despite there being very beautiful women in every direction, his focus is entirely on you.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you tease, tugging gently on his tie. He smirks and leans forward a bit more, closing the space between you by a few more inches.

"Nothin' compared to you. Anyone ever tell you not to show up the bride on her own wedding day?" You laugh and he tuts under his breath. "Just ain't right is what that is. Oughta take you somewhere and mess up that hair 'n makeup a bit. Maybe wrinkle the dress."

His whiskey is set on the bench next to him, freeing his hand to wander slowly from your bare knee up your thigh where the slit in your dress has exposed your leg. Already there's a pang of arousal that simmers low in your belly and it's probably the alcohol that's made you forget the setting because instead of stopping him, you lean in.

"You lasted longer than I thought," you murmur so only he can hear. He smirks.

"Tryin' to be good f'you," he says quietly, lips only an inch or two away from brushing against yours, "but you make it so goddamn hard."

"Oh, I know," you joke, stepping into the double entendre with both feet. He groans a laugh and is half a second from kissing you when you hear your name and your heart plummets to your stomach.

You know that voice. Your muscles go rigid and before Joel can even read your face, he knows. He feels you tense under his palm but regardless, he doesn't guiltily jump away. He eases back slowly, keeps his eyes locked on you, then eventually lets his wandering hand fall to his lap with a heavy sigh before following your gaze to the young woman and her partner standing just a few feet away.

"Leah," you say, voice sounding like it's being dragged over gravel. You stand and awkwardly tug at the skirt of your dress. "H-Hey, it's uh. It's nice to, um, see you."

You sound pathetic. Before you can curl in on yourself and die, Joel stands. He buttons his coat and plants himself firmly at your side. Leah's gaze flits from you to him and you can see the gears in her head turn.

"Yeah. Hey." She sounds confused. Or amused, maybe? It's hard to tell. But then you spot the lipstick stained highball glass in her hand and figure she's on a tape delay, same as you. Her eyes find you again after she took a little too long analyzing Joel and she cocks her head. "I didn't know if you would be able to make it," she says. You swallow.

"I mean, how could I miss it?" you shrug, hoping to come off unbothered. You don't. Joel's hand rests gently on the middle of your back, steadying you. It helps.

Too much time lapses between your last words. You both know she didn't expect you to come without her brother, but Carly's your friend. Of course you'd come. Still, it makes you feel small, like coming without your original date is somehow considered poor taste or something.

Your gaze flickers to Leah's husband and you offer him a small smile, ignoring the way your heart sits like a stone in your chest when you remember you stood up in their own wedding just two years ago. These people, who you've known for so long, now feel like strangers, and you hate it.

Then, like you're hit over the head with the manners hammer, you snap out of it and remember Joel silently standing guard by your side.

"I'm s-sorry, uh, this is Joel—"

You look up at him next to you and feel a moment of relief. His left hand remains on your back and his right extends to politely shake both their hands while murmuring a good to meet you in his deep, southern drawl.

"Uh, yeah..." Leah says slowly, her eyes sticking on Joel too long once again. You can read her face like a book. She's trying to recall if she's ever met him before, or perhaps heard his name, wondering where on earth he came from. When she can't place it, impatience gets the best of her and she laughs awkwardly before piercing you with an incredulous look.

"I'm sorry, is this—is he your boyfriend?"

Jesus, like it can't get any worse, now you're being confronted with this? What do you call Joel? A friend? A fuck buddy? How did you not have the foresight to anticipate having to explain your relationship all evening?

Then like magic, Joel swoops in and saves you.

"Nah, she just hired me for the evenin'."

He says the joke so smoothly that both you and Leah's husband chuckle. Leah herself manages a tight smile but you can sense she's not done.

"Right..." she says, then studies you once again. She can clock your discomfort and it's making her smug. "You moved on pretty fast," she adds casually before sipping from her glass. Your cheeks burn and your chest starts to tighten again, but Joel's steady hand on your back grounds you enough to remain in control.

"She's allowed to move on, hun," Leah's husband murmurs good-naturedly.

"No, yeah, of course!" Leah chirps with a fake smile. You force one of your own and take a long sip from your wine glass just for something to do. "It's just, you know... weird. Seeing you with someone else. I mean, you were with Liam for so long, it's hard to, like, wrap my head around it, I guess."

Hearing his name spoken out loud makes your throat close up. You cough a little into your hand and murmur your apologies while her husband subtly tries to rein her in with a stern look and a hand on her elbow.

"Yeah, well, it was—it was unexpected, r-really," you stammer, "we kind of just m-met and, you know... hit it off."

"Sure, isn't that how it always goes?" Leah says, tone overly sweet. Then there's a lull where you both awkwardly sip on your drinks and the men glance around the courtyard until the tension grows too thick for Leah to stand and she speaks up again.

"I'm sorry, I just gotta say something here," she begins with a smile. "Not for nothin', I'm happy you're doing good, but do you even give a shit about Liam?"

Your vision narrows.

"Hun—"

"No, I mean it," Leah continues, brushing off her husband's attempts at calming her. The smile falls. "Do you even care how he's doing? You remember he's in prison, right? You remember you're the one who put him there, right?"

"Alright, that's enough—" Joel suddenly says, voice harder than you've ever heard it. It stuns the group of you momentarily. "This is a happy occasion. Let's not start anythin' here, yeah? We're here to celebrate the happy couple, so why don't we just—"

"I agree with Joel," Leah's husband says while proverbial smoke pours from her ears. "We don't gotta do all this tonight."

"He's up for parole in three months, did you know that?" she sneers, ignoring both men. The fear that grips you now is impossible to ignore. It's hard to breathe, your chest is heaving and you can feel your knees starting to buckle. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"The whole family will be at his hearing," she continues, "we even asked your mom and dad, too. Would be nice if you showed up, maybe tried to undo some of the damage you caused—"

"Hey, would you listen to that," Joel says, "my favorite song. Darlin', let's go back in and dance."

Without waiting for an answer, Joel takes both your shoulders and turns you towards the ballroom, leaving his glass on the bench where Leah stands, fuming.

"Oh, Christ," you gasp as you force yourself to walk. Tears are beginning to blur your vision but you quickly blink them away. You do not cry. Especially over that man.

"It's alright. You're okay," he murmurs gently, leading you through the crowd. Fortunately, no one seems to notice or care about your state since you don't feel the heavy gaze of judgement as you walk. "Stay with me, honey. Don't let it get to you. Just focus on me."

"He-He's gonna get out, Joel," you whisper frantically. And although he has no clue what Liam did, he still blindly supports you.

"And you'll be fine. I promise. Ain't nothin' bad gonna happen."

"You d-don't understand—"

"Hey, look at me." Joel stops and turns you around so you're forced to face him. You must look crazy: watery eyes, panicked breaths, windswept hair, shaking like a leaf. But he sees past all of it. He takes your wine, sets it down on a table, pulls you close, and puts one of your arms around his ribs. You instinctively curl your hand up, cupping his shoulder, and you take a deep breath. His own falls to your waist and he starts to slowly sway to the music while plucking your other trembling hand from your side and resting it over his chest.

"Feel that?" he asks as he slowly and gently leads you around the dance floor. Your feet shuffle on autopilot and you nod when you feel the strong thump thump of his heart under your palm. "Focus on that. Feel how slow it is? Feel how I'm breathin'? Do what I do. Breathe when I breathe."

You lock eyes and inhale slowly, together. The ringing in your ears gets a little softer with each shared breath. The numbness in your fingers subsides the longer you stare into his eyes. Even though you know deep down Joel has no way of keeping the type of promises he made—that Liam can't hurt you, that everything will be okay—you believe him anyway. At least for tonight.

"Better?" he asks when the song ends. You nod but still keep your hand planted over his heart. He holds your hand there as long as you want, even after you drop your head forward to rest on his shoulder. He protectively tucks his chin downwards, stubbled cheek brushing carefully over the top of your head, and you close your eyes, giving in to the gentle way he holds you close, comforting you.

By the third song, you feel mostly like yourself again. You swallow thickly and lift your heavy head to look up at him. He smiles down at you when he sees the light has returned to your eyes. "There she is," he says quietly.

"Sorry I'm a little more complicated than you probably thought," you laugh dryly, but Joel just shakes his head.

"Ain't nothin' I can't handle."

You quirk an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "Don't start lying, now," you tease. Joel just chuckles and tilts his head up to scan the crowd.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And just because you want to, you dance with him for one more song. He's so calming and strong, it makes you wonder how he grew to be this way. Is it just his nature, or was it something else that forced him to be the anchor in a storm?

"Joel?" you finally ask when the ballad ends. The lights are dimming lower and a fast song begins to pump from the speakers. Around you, guests are cheering and laughing, throwing their hands in the air and twirling around the dance floor, but you and Joel remain locked together, moving slow.

"Hm?" he hums. His thumb rubs soothingly over the back of your hand.

"Can we go back to the room?"

Joel grins. "Havin' too much fun down here, that it?" he jokes. And despite the heaviness of the evening, you manage a genuine laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so."

His hand slips from your waist and you step apart.

"Alright by me," he says. You scan the room, spotting table ten near the hallway that leads to the restrooms.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom first. Can you grab my purse from the table?"

Joel nods and you walk, hand in hand, towards the side of the room, only letting go when you absolutely had to. When you disappear down the corridor leading to the bathrooms, Joel finds his abandoned seat from earlier and sits down with a loud sigh. Your clutch is right where you left it, on the table next to your napkin. Joel stares at it, lost in thought now that he has a moment to himself.

What happened to you? What did this Liam do?

Obviously whatever it was must have been serious if he ended up in prison. For a moment, his eyelids flutter closed, and dark memories of his own flicker unwillingly through his mind.

"Hey, man."

Joel's eyes open when he hears Leah's husband's voice.

"Hey," Joel answers wearily, "sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Zach," he says, "mind if I sit?"

Joel nods and watches Zach sink into a chair two seats over. He sighs and unbuttons his suit coat.

"Sorry about all that," he begins, "they got a history."

"Yeah, I figured," Joel replies, "she'll be alright."

There's a comfortable silence for a moment where both men watch the guests and the newlyweds dance away to some song Joel vaguely recognizes. There's a lot left unspoken. It hangs heavy in the air, neither one really sure how to tactfully approach the sensitive topic consuming the space until Zach finally clears his throat and props his elbows on the table, drawing Joel's attention.

"For the record," he says, "I can see it from both sides. Leah's loyal to her family so I gotta give her grace for it, but what Liam did was... it was messed up. And I think they all have a hard time believin' he could be like that, you know?"

Joel didn't know, but he nods anyway.

"They all practically grew up together," Zach continues, staring down blankly at the white linen tablecloth, "I'm the outsider. Always been. So maybe it's easier for me to see it, but I told Leah... there were signs. I—I want you to know, I tried. I really did. But—"

Then Leah's voice cut through the air, stopping the small crumbs of information Joel was gathering from her husband.

"I thought you said we weren't gonna talk about this for the rest of the night?" she snaps, walking up behind them. Both turn to look, easily reading the clear anger and annoyance across her face.

"I was just havin' a calm conversat—"

"I heard you. You're over here talking shit about my brother. My blood. To some—some guy that won't last the rest of the month!"

Leah's hands are waving wildly in the air as she rants while Joel does his best to stay out of it. He glances in the direction of the corridor but there's still no sign of you.

"I'm just tryin' to explain what's going on, lower your voice," Zach hisses under his breath as he stands to reach for his wife. She angrily swats his hand away.

"Well did you explain she's a fucking liar, then?" Leah argues. Her eyes are filled with blind rage. Her cheeks are pink and her bejeweled fingers are clutched tightly at her sides. "Because if you're telling him what happened, then you should start there." Leah suddenly turns her attention all on Joel, startling him. She points one perfectly manicured finger in his direction and his jaw clenches. "Your girlfriend ruined my brother's life, and if you're not careful, she'll do the same to you. She is a manipulator. She blows things way out of proportion and twists things around. All for attention!" Leah half laughs, half scoffs while Zach tries and fails to direct her away from the table. "She painted my brother out to be some kind of abusive, controlling psychopath all because she lost her job and frien—"

"That's enough," Joel says sharply while rising to his feet. His height makes Leah stumble backwards in surprise but she shakes it off.

"My brother did the same thing as you. He defended her—"

"Lemme tell you somethin'," Joel snaps, making her fall silent. The anger painted across his face and fire held behind his eyes makes them both pause. It's so distracting that none of them notice you quietly turning the corner from the bathroom, then stumbling to an abrupt halt when you see the scene playing out before you.

Gone is the smiley, relaxed, aloof jokester you're used to. The energy radiating off Joel now is cold and dark. You can't even blink, let alone move. This is a side of him you've never seen before and it has you paralyzed.

Joel shifts forward a few inches, planting his weight firmly on the floor. "I've seen the look in her eyes before and it's clear you ain't ever had the misfortune of bein' close with someone who's suffered from the hands of a monster, but I have. I know what it looks like." Your eyes widen with shock. Even from where you stand, you can feel the heat of his anger. "I know what it looks like," he repeats, softer now, "I've had to watch a woman rebuild her life while always lookin' over her shoulder. I've seen the fear, the terror, more times than I can count." Joel takes a deep breath and even though his voice isn't any louder than normal, the tone has the three of you hanging on his every word. "I promise you, whatever your brother did was real. 'Cause ain't no way a woman can fake the type'a pain 'n dread she lives with. And so help me, if I ever see you or that motherfucker cause her that kinda grief, I ain't gonna stand by and do nothin' this time. I—"

"Joel!"

He spins around when he hears the sharp crack in your voice. Instantly, his face melts from anger back to the softness you're used to.

"Hey," he whispers. Then he swallows tightly, blinks a few times, and seems to collect his emotions. You can practically see him gathering up every shred of anger and resentment and packing it away into a little box, locking it up, and shoving it back into a corner. "S-sorry, honey. I didn't—"

"Let's go."

Your tone is flat and indecipherable. It has Joel hanging his head, deflated, before reaching for your purse and handing it to you. You take it and walk between both parties without a word, weaving through the drunken crowd and skipping your well wishes for Carly and Jim in favor of fleeing to the hotel lobby.

The click of your heels echo loudly across the empty vestibule as you charge towards the elevators. You have tunnel vision, the only target in sight is the escape to your room where you can get some desperately needed privacy.

Joel joins you just after you jab the call button. You feel him by your side, strong and steady, but he doesn't say a word and neither do you. The air is stifling until the doors finally slide open and you step in.

He thinks there may be a moment to explain himself once you're inside the safety of the elevator, but then you hear a stranger's voice ring out, asking for you to hold it, so you do. It's an older couple who step inside looking like they just had dinner or drinks at the restaurant attached to the hotel. They murmur their thanks and tap floor seven, leaving the four of you to stand in silence as the car crawls painstakingly slow past each floor.

Every passing moment feels like an eternity. Joel's hands fidget anxiously at his sides and his mind races as he tries to come up with something to say that will explain how and why he overstepped so badly, but he's not sure what you want to hear. Should he tell you how sick it makes him feel? How fucked up it has him to think and wonder about what you went through? That some part of him wants to protect you the way he couldn't before, back when the victim was different but the fear was the same?

He wants to, but you're so guarded that he's afraid it'll push you away. But what if he already did? What if his outburst frightened you and he'll never hear from you again after tonight? The thought makes his heart drop.

When the doors open, he barely gets a glance at your face before you hurry out into the air conditioned hallway. He thinks the older couple bids them goodnight, but he can't be sure because he's rushing to keep in step with you.

"Listen—"

A housekeeper exits a room with her cleaning cart, stopping the excuse right in its tracks. You're giving him nothing to work with, absolutely no inkling as to how pissed or upset you might be, and it's beginning to freak him out.

After what feels like miles, you finally approach your room. Joel watches as you fish around for the key, tap it against the lock, and push the door open. You're moving as if someone's chasing you and it has his mind reeling with regret.

The light flicks on. Your purse gets tossed haphazardly to the floor. Joel is woefully slipping off his shoes, entirely unaware until his back hits the door from the force of your shove. He blinks in shock and hardly has the time to register the look on your face before your mouth is pressed firmly over his with a moan.

Stunned, Joel forgets to respond. His hands are still raised halfway up, hovering in the air as you claw and tug at his shirt, untucking it from his slacks before you remember his jacket. Trembling with adrenaline, you shove the coat past his shoulders. He handles the rest when his brain finally catches up and he shakes his arms loose. It collapses softly to the floor and then his fingers curl around your shoulders. He manages to break the spell and gently pull you back so he can search your face.

Your ragged, shallow breaths fill the space as you stare at one another, just inches apart. Your heavy gaze wildly darts back and forth, still panting for air, before you whisper his name like a question.

"You ain't mad?" he finally asks.

"Mad?" you repeat with a confused frown.

"Yeah. What I said down there, I thought—"

"No," you breathe, gently clutching the sides of his face with both hands, "no, not mad. I'm... grateful."

But Joel shakes his head. "I lost my cool. Wasn't my place to—to say what I said. It just sorta... I don't know. Couldn't stop myself, I guess." He carefully tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear as you stare up at him, all wide eyed. "Brought some of my own shit into it, too. Got the best of me, it wasn't right."

"I don't care." You stretch up on your tiptoes so you can plant small kisses along his prickly jaw. "You said all the things I couldn't. You stood up for me without even knowing what happened." Your mouth meets his and you hover there a moment, exchanging shared breaths in the quiet of the hotel room. "You have no idea... no idea what—"

Joel hears your voice get tight and he releases his grip on your shoulders. He pulls you in by the waist and presses his mouth firmly over yours.

You don't need to say it. He knows.

Your nails drag down softly over his cheeks as he walks you backwards into the room. Then your hands drop. The way you pull at his clothes is messy and frantic, like you're desperate to feel his skin against yours, like you need it. You nearly trip over your own heels trying to hurry to the bed, but before you can fall back, Joel stops you.

"Nuh-uh," he tells you, tightening one strong arm around your waist, "you said I could take this off you." His other hand fists the delicate fabric of your dress, reminding you of your earlier promise, and who are you to deny him when his eyes look so bright and eager?

You spread your arms out at your sides. "I'm all yours," you grin, then giggle when he pretends to stumble backwards and faint.

"Gonna kill me, talkin' like that," he warns after moving closer again. Gentle fingers slip both thin straps down your shoulders and you wiggle out of them. One hand sneaks around to the back of your dress and finds your zipper. He starts to pull it down slowly, all with a devilish grin because with every inch your dress loosens, the more cleavage gets exposed, and he seems to really enjoy taking his time with it.

You circle your arms around his neck, steadily holding his gaze. "I've been known to say much worse than that."

Joel groans, eyes flickering down to your chest briefly when the zipper along your back opens all the way, leaving the front of the dress just barely covering your breasts. "Don't I know it, dirty fuckin' girl," he growls, then suddenly tugs harshly on the back of your dress. You gasp when your chest is exposed to the icy air conditioned room, but before you have a chance to even blink, Joel is bending down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. The warmth of his tongue over your chilled skin makes you shiver in his hold. Your head tips back and eyes slide shut as he mouths at your breast, laving his tongue across your nipple until it's a tight peak, then he moves to the other one. Your hands get lost in his hair while he works, encouraging him to keep going with gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp.

To your dismay, he releases your breast with a satisfied hum, leaving your aching nipples hard and stiff as he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. Slowly, he begins to peel down your dress, watching with bated breath as more and more of your body gets revealed to him. Only when your dress is left in a pathetic little pile around your feet do you squirm from the heaviness of his gaze.

"Jesus," he whispers to himself. His fingers skim your ankle, right above where the strap of your heel is still buckled. He slowly drags his fingertips up the back of your leg, his gaze following at the same pace. Goosebumps flash across your skin from anticipation but you manage to stay still until he reaches the band of your panties.

They match the color of your dress. The material is smooth and barely there. It was a practical choice so they couldn't be seen through your dress, but now that you're standing here in just your underwear and heels, they feel so much sexier than before.

The damp patch of arousal that's leaking through doesn't go unnoticed. Joel locks in on it and he inches closer, breathing heavier until his lips land on your hip with a moan. Thick fingers curl around the elastic and slowly tug the scrap of material down your legs until they uselessly sit on the pressed carpet, alongside your dress.

He hovers there a minute. Leaving you entirely exposed with him on his knees and his mouth inches away from your pussy, he lets you take a moment. There's no pressure but he's letting the opportunity hang in the air, giving you the chance to ask for it or nudge him between your legs. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest. You feel the heat of his breath, you feel the press of his fingers against the softness of your hips, and he waits. He leaves a few gentle kisses against your stomach while you wrestle with the unspoken—do you let him use his mouth? Do you lay back and just take without any shame?

You almost let him, simply because he looks so fucking gorgeous on his knees like this, satin tie loose around his neck, dress shirt messy and disheveled, just like his hair. But you just can't. You're not ready. Instead, you murmur something softly about needing to feel him and begging him to stand. He does without hesitation and kisses you deeply with both hands clutching your face.

You don't feel an ounce of guilt because you finally are starting to believe all the things he's said to you over the last few weeks—he wants you to be comfortable first.

"Take your clothes off," you murmur against his lips. Your hands are working on his belt but you're getting very little help here and your patience is growing thin.

"So fuckin'—bossy," he rasps before finally releasing your face so he can work on the buttons of his shirt. You yank the belt from his waist and throw it on the floor.

"You said you'd repay me with your body," you remind him, "I'm just looking to collect."

Joel's hands pause on his tie. "Is this some kinda roleplay thing? 'Cause for the record, I'm into it."

You roll your eyes and start to unbutton his pants. "This is the second time in a week you've mentioned roleplay, I got the hint."

"Oh, like you didn't get all hot over me with a tool belt." His pants fall to his feet right as he's shrugging off his shirt.

"That's your job, it's not roleplay." Then your gaze snags on the sight of his bare, stiff cock aching for attention and warmth spreads between your hips.

"Didn't stop you from lookin' at me like some bored, lonely housewife who hired a handyman to fix her bed before askin' him to rail her—"

"You've put a lot of thought into these fantasies," you say, dragging your eyes up and cutting him off. Joel lifts his undershirt over his head with a grin.

"What else'm I supposed to do all day at work? Listen to those knuckleheads talk 'bout their favorite shitty bands?"

You're in the middle of kicking off your heels when you pause and look up at him, blinking softly.

"You think about me... at work?"

Joel snorts and slides his palms around your waist. "'Course I do, honey. Fuckin'—look at you." The bashful smile on your face is undeniable as you melt into his touch. "Think 'bout you more than I probably should. Gonna lose a finger one'a these days."

"Mm, just make sure it's not these fingers," you reach behind you and grab the first two fingers and thumb on his right hand, "they're my favorite."

A slow, devious smile stretches across Joel's face.

"Oh, yeah?"

You bite your lip and nod, then gasp when one of those fingers glides slowly through your slit. Your thighs tense when he does it again, only this time the tip of his finger prods gently at your opening, causing your knees to wobble. Joel feels it and makes a soft noise under his breath.

"Need me, huh?" he murmurs. Your lips part and you tip your head up and down, fingers grabbing onto his biceps for support while he continues to pet agonizingly slow at your entrance. "Yeah, I can tell, honey. I'll give you what you need. In fact—"

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and you bite back a whine, but then he's stepping away from you entirely so he can fall backwards onto the bed with a low oof.

"C'mere," he says, curling two fingers forward with a sexy half smirk. Your heart flips a little and you quickly do as he says, dipping low to crawl on your hands and knees up the length of his long, naked body. You pause at his waist and glance down to admire his hard, thick cock resting heavy against his stomach. When it twitches under your gaze, you hum to yourself, then quickly lean down to lick a slow line up the underside of his erection. Joel's breath catches in his throat just when his fingers slide through your hair, curling tightly around the strands but not harsh enough to hurt you.

"Fuck," he grumbles when you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. Your tongue laps gently there, soaking up the salty taste with your eyes closed. When you hum a little, his body trembles and the fist in your hair tightens.

"Careful," he warns. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him through your lashes, mouth still wrapped around his cock. You can see his throat bob and it gives you a burst of confidence. Slowly, you release him from your mouth, but you don't look away. You arch your back so your ass is up in the air and you tilt your head to the side.

"Or what?" you murmur with your lips hovering right where he wants you the most. His jaw clenches and he exhales slowly through his nose before responding.

"Or I'm gonna come all over that pretty face of yours."

A wide smile tugs at your cheeks.

"That's a very weak threat."

Joel groans and grabs you by the shoulders before you can lower yourself back down.

"This ain't about me," he reminds you after tugging your body up so your thighs are braced on either side of his hips. Your palms flatten against his chest for leverage and you giggle down at him.

"What if I want to make it about you?" you grin.

"'Nother time," he says without a trace of humor in his voice, "Want—" Joel takes a handful of your ass and gives it a firm shake before lightly smacking it, "—want you to take what you need. Fuckin'—use me, baby."

You open your mouth to protest but before you can speak, he's sliding you off to the side so he can stand. He hurries to fish out a condom from the same place he always keeps them in his wallet and you watch him roll it on while you think over what he said.

"Use you?" you repeat when he returns. He falls back onto the bed with a nod, then his hands find your hips again. You help him this time, tossing a leg over him and getting comfortable in his lap.

"Yeah. Just—do what you want. Wanna watch you just... lose yourself on me, okay?"

You gently roll your hips over his cock while you think.

"That sounds a little selfish," you start to say, then it dawns on you.

"Ain't selfish. I get to watch you bounce on it til you can't see straight, how's that selfish?" he says easily, but you've already figured it out. That's what he wants. He wants you to be selfish. Hell, maybe he also likes being told what to do. He's said as much before. But you know tonight he wants you to feel comfortable enough with him to let your walls down, he's just framing it in a different way.

And this... this you most certainly can do.

"Okay," you breathe, shifting your hips forward. Reaching down, you line him up at your entrance. The blunt, firm pressure there already sends a shiver down your spine. Then you begin to sink down, slow, savoring the stretch until your jaw drops and your eyelids slide shut.

You can feel the tension in his hands. He wants to yank you down, bury himself inside you as deep as he can, but he lets you take your time.

"Like this?" you whisper, still working yourself open on his cock.

"Yeah—yes," he grunts. Then he curses when you stop about halfway down and begin to lift your hips back up. Your head tips back and a weak moan slips out when you start to sit, only to stop halfway again.

"You like that?" Joel asks, voice sounding pained. You hum and nod but keep your eyes closed.

"Feels good," you mumble, "like how it feels at first. Like—like it hurts, but in a good way."

"What else?" he rasps. You lower yourself a little more and your brows pinch together at the temporary sting.

"Fuck—like h-how... how heavy you feel. Inside."

He groans in response and slides his hands up your sides. "You're so soft," he says quietly, "'n warm. So pretty, too. So, so pretty."

The praise makes you whimper as you rise back up, leaving just the tip before slowly taking him back inside, only this time, you don't stop. You take him all, every aching inch, until he's pressing up against a spot that makes fire run hot in your veins.

"I like that," you murmur. Then your eyes finally open, allowing Joel to see the heat of your gaze.

"Like what?" he asks. You roll your hips slowly, just barely lifting up so your clit can drag across the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. "Tell me, darlin'. I wanna know what you like."

"Like w-when you—when you... say I'm pretty."

"You are pretty."

"Like when yo-you say I'm good."

"Oh, sweetheart, you are good," he moans. It hurts a little to have your heart so open like this, to admit things that make you feel shame. What a conceited person you must be to chase praise like this, but it's only because you spent so many years hardly hearing anything nice at all. Is it really so bad if you like hearing a compliment every now and again? Is that such a crime?

No, of course not. So why bother feeling ashamed for it?

Suddenly, you understand. You see what he's been trying to do, and something just... clicks.

"I like how much you w-want me," you continue to babble. You move with a little more purpose now, cunt sliding slick and tight up and down his shaft with each roll of your hips. "Like how you—you don't hide it. You're—shit—just so... so..."

"So what?" Joel urges before holding his breath. Delirium has made you loose lipped, or maybe it's just a burst of bravery from being in charge right now, but either way, he loves it. Every time you offer a glimmer of insight into what's going on in that busy head of yours, he eagerly gobbles it up.

"—so good to me," you finish.

It's music to his ears.

Joel surges upwards, thumbs brushing delicately under your breasts. He nips at your collarbone with a smile, far too consumed with what you just said to remember the rules until your fingers wrap around his wrists and you pin him back into the mattress. He lands with a soft grunt and looks up at you with surprise.

"I thought I was in charge?" you smirk. His fingers flex in your grip, chasing the ghost of your soft skin, when a slow smile stretches across his face.

"You're right," he says breathlessly, "you're right. Keep—keep goin'. Doin' so good."

"Tell me wha—what you like," you pant with your fingers still pressing his arms into the mattress. You can feel him throb every time you thrust down and it takes all your power not to moan over his answer.

"Like when you let me be good to you," he responds instantly. "You deserve that, y'know. Someone w-who's good t'you."

You continue to rock back and forth, humming softly under your breath. The way your clit drags across his lower belly is stoking a fire between your legs with each pass. It can't be doing much for him but you wouldn't know it based on the sounds he's making underneath you.

"You can be honest," you tell him, "you don't have—have to—"

"I am," he groans. You huff and your fingers dig into his wrists a little harder when you start to drop down on his cock with short little strokes. "I—fuck... I am. I like wh-when you're like this. Like—fuckin'—holdin' me down like this." His fingers flex but he hasn't tried to pull out of your grasp yet. "Like when you're b-bossy, too. Like that smart fuckin'—ohhh..."

His eyes roll back when you start to bounce faster in his lap and you grin.

"You like being submissive?" you ask softly after leaning down to purr in his ear. He shudders under you, you can feel it in your thighs.

"Not always," he admits truthfully, "but today—y-yeah. Yes."

You curse before feverishly finding his mouth and pressing yours against it to muffle your moans. Fuck, you like that for some reason. It's not something you thought you'd be into but it's... it's really working for you right now.

"Do you know what else I like?" you whisper seductively against his lips. Little puffs of air fan across your face every time your hips drop. Joel's mouth remains open, eyes closed in bliss, and he just nods. "I like how hard you get for me—" you tell him, and his eyebrows furrow just the slightest bit, "—I like how you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"Can't help it," he gasps with his eyes still closed. His neck is growing flush now and you have the sudden urge to taste it, so you dip your chin down and trace your tongue along the prominent vein along the left side. Your cunt pulses around him as you pick up the pace, squeezing and gripping him perfectly every time you bounce. A strangled groan gets caught in his throat so you bear down on him even harder.

"F-Fuck, honey—" he stammers. Your nipples graze against his bare chest every time you move and for the first time, you feel him try to lift his arms. "Lem—lemme touch you. Please, l-lemme—"

Sweat collects behind your knees. Your thighs burn. Your brain buzzes with electrifying need. Joel's arms flinch again and you push them deeper into the mattress.

"Not yet," you gasp, and he whines behind clenched teeth. You ache for his touch but you like hearing him beg more.

You shift so his cock drags along a spot that makes you see stars. Soft noises from your throat and ragged breaths from his begin to mingle with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin. It's such a power trip, being with him like this. It's liberating in a way you never thought possible and building an intense pressure deep between your legs.

"O-Oh, god, Joel—" Your voice breaks over your plea as heat slowly begins to lick up your spine. Your fingers tighten around his wrists as you glide effortlessly on his cock, chasing your own release while Joel struggles to keep a clear head.

"I can—can feel it," he groans, and when he finally opens his eyes, you can see the intensity he's been hiding. He looks crazed: hairline damp, neck red, jaw clenched tight, and a fire behind his eyes that reminds you how strong he is, that he could easily flip you over and fuck you senseless, but he's yielding to you. Not just because he wants you to have some control back after a shitty night, but because he gets off on it, too.

"I-I—" you stammer before licking your lips and trying again, "I think I'm gonna—shit, Joel, I'm gonna c-come—"

"Please," he rasps, "let go. Let—let go, baby, I fuckin'—need it—"

Desperate sounds get trapped in your throat, behind clenched teeth as you grind down on him. Short, disjointed breaths curled around words of encouragement come from Joel's mouth, pushing you higher and higher every time he says you're pretty or perfect or sweet or soft.

There's a moment where your hips stutter and your cunt clenches down when Joel has to bite down hard on his lip to control himself, and then some semblance of his name rips from your mouth and you come, gushing around him as your whole body convulses. His jaw tightens and his vision narrows, so fucking close to coming himself, but holding on by a thread. He watches as your back arches and your head tips backwards with relief, moaning a mixture of his name and curses until your hips eventually slow.

When your head rolls tiredly forward and your eyes crack open, you see the pained look on Joel's face.

"Did—did you—"

Your throat is raw. You feel like jelly yet somehow you're still holding onto his wrists.

"You d-didn't tell m-me to—" he whispers, then you feel his cock pulse inside you, begging for release.

Electricity shoots down your spine.

"Fuck," you murmur, then bring his hands up to cup your breasts. Instantly, his fingers curl and squeeze them, just like they've been aching to. His thumbs graze your soft skin before gliding over your sensitive nipples and you find your hips rocking in his lap once again. "Come for me," you finally say, "come for me, Joel, please, can you—"

He throws his head back into a pillow with a snarl and then he's coming, muscles going rigid as you gently ride him, all the while sliding your palms up and down his strong arms, wide chest, and broad shoulders. His thick cock continually spasms inside you, an endless release of pleasure that wrings him dry and depleted.

"Christ—" he gasps, his hands falling limply to your thighs. When his eyelids flutter shut, you bend to rest your upper body across his heaving chest until you catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and your chin tilts up to nuzzle against his sticky neck. His pulse flickers fast and steady in his throat, you can feel it against the tip of your nose.

You're a mess. You're covered in sweat, you're exhausted, you can hardly keep your eyes open, but you try your damndest because this feeling is too good—this feeling he's given you, this warmth and adoration and understanding, it's what you've always craved, and you don't want to sleep through it when it's the most heightened. You want to savor the feeling of his arms around you, of his chest lifting you up and down, of the soft strokes of his fingers down your spine.

"Did so good," he eventually whispers, lips brushing your forehead. "How'd that feel? Did you like that?"

You hum and burrow deeper into the crook of his neck. "Yeah," you murmur as your fingers drift mindlessly over his ribs.

"Enough to wanna do it again?"

One eye pops open. "...Now?"

He laughs, chest jolting under your cheek. "No. Jesus. I mean, another time."

"Uh—" It's hard to think. You're still in your post orgasm haze. Everything is still rosy and warm and a little sluggish. "—Yeah, but..."

The fingers dancing along your spine pause.

"What?"

You sigh and gently kiss his throat. "Not every time. Maybe just... sometimes."

"No, 'course not," he assures you, "wouldn't exactly work with my secretary and CEO fantasy."

You frown before tilting your chin up. "Women can be CEOs."

"Is this you agreein' to roleplay?" he asks with a lopsided grin.

"How'd I know this subject wasn't over?"

Joel barks a laugh and pulls his arms tighter around you. "Alright, alright. No pressure. Think on it."

His laughter subsides and his fingers brushing over your back resumes. You let the comfortable silence fill the space and your mind wanders until words that have been begging to be spoken press too heavy on your tongue.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

You swallow tightly and start to draw circles over his skin with your fingertip. "How would... okay, so—I've been thinking, and..."

Joel waits patiently under you as you stare at your hand making patterns over his chest.

"This is so embarrassing," you grumble, "nevermind."

"No, c'mon," he grins, "say it."

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes at yourself.

"Would you be cool with me calling you my boyfriend?"

The words tumble out fast before you have a chance to make it worse, but your cheeks still burn anyway.

"Oh, shit," Joel chuckles, "am I gettin' a promotion?"

You close your eyes and giggle. "Yeah. You could call it that, sure."

"Then I accept," he says, lifting his arm so he can offer you his hand. You stare at it a moment before it clicks and you shake it.

"It doesn't come with a raise," you warn him, "title only."

"S'alright. Ain't in it for the money." He drops your hand so he can happily resume rubbing your back with a proud grin stretched across his face.

"What are you in it for?"

With a grunt, Joel suddenly rolls you onto your back. You blink up stupidly at him as you try to adjust to the sudden shift, but he just grins down at you before thrusting his hips forward. You gasp at the not so subtle reminder of his cock still buried deep between your legs.

"The perks, obviously."

You smack his shoulder. "Gross," you mumble before tugging him down by the back of the neck for a kiss. Before he has a chance to slip his tongue past your lips, you pull back, but only enough to press your forehead to his with a smile.

"Told you I'd wear you down," he says, noses nudging together gently.

"Yeah, yeah," you relent. You play with the hairs at the base of his neck for a minute while Joel softly leaves a trail of kisses down your jaw. "Sorry it took me a while," you say, "it's just... obviously, I don't have a good track record..."

"You been burned," Joel mumbles against your throat, "I get it."

"Yeah," you sigh, relaxing under him and closing your eyes. "And... I want to tell you about it. One day."

Joel freezes but doesn't lift his head. Just takes a second to process your words before he resumes leaving marks along the column of your throat.

"I'm ready whenever you are, honey."

You breathe deep and smile because for once, no panic is filling your chest and squeezing your throat. No intrusive thoughts are clouding your mind, because you're actually beginning to believe that maybe things really can be this simple. You were just looking in all the wrong places before.

***

taglist:

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@pengbluevoke @lemonsfromikea @perpetualharpyresonance @lotusbxtch @janescherries

@inspira75 @havensucks @ashleyfilm @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @eh-nothanks

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@the-heart-is-an-organ-of-fire @w-w-a-n-d-r-l-u-s-t-t @m-o-r-g-s @whattheflipsiesss @misstokyo7love

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@sunnytuliptime @styleispunk

[wayward-dreamer]

I can’t stress enough that if you’re not already reading this fic, then get on it now!!! God it’s just so good, and Joel is beyond swoon worthy in this 🥰

[zendadya]

ZENDAYA at the "The Odyssey" world premiere in London (July 6, 2026)

[snowbairdd]

ZENDAYA attending "The Odyssey" photocall in London (July 05, 2026)

[pedroscurls]

broken souls

series summary: sometimes, love isn't enough to make you stay... and sometimes, it isn't enough to go after you either. but years later, you both meet again and you're different people. time hardened the both of you, especially in this world. would love be enough this time?

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader series content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), established relationship, lovers to exes to strangers to lovers (?), joel is bad at feelings, protective joel, joel lives!!!, child loss, grief, use of alcohol/drugs, jealousy, time jumps, flashbacks, talks about being immune, violence (it's the apocalypse y'all), don't worry there's a happy ending, no use of y/n. each chapter will have its own separate warnings! a/n: been missing joel miller real bad and i know i have a handful of series that i haven't yet completed, but i'm revamping this entire story (from 2023 - wow!). if you've read the original, there will be a few scenes that will be repurposed in this as well, but generally, it's gonna be entirely brand new. it's gonna be a dark one, filled with angst, but i promise, there's a happy ending (bc ya girl can't not have one lol).

coming soon... july 19th.

Schedule: Every Sunday

Part 1. - (scheduled 7/19)

Part 2. - (scheduled 7/26)

Part 3. - (scheduled 8/2)

Part 4. - (scheduled 8/9)

Part 5. - (scheduled 8/16)

Part 6. - (scheduled 8/23)

Part 7. - (scheduled 8/30)

Part 8. - (scheduled 9/6)

Part 9. - (scheduled 9/13)

Part 10. - (scheduled 9/20)

Part 11. - (scheduled 9/27)

Part 12. - (scheduled 10/4)

Part 13. - (scheduled 10/11)

Part 14. - (scheduled 10/18)

Part 15. - (scheduled 10/25)

Part 16. - (scheduled 11/1)

Part 17. - (scheduled 11/8)

Part 18. - (scheduled 11/15)

Part 19. - (scheduled 11/22)

Epilogue. - (scheduled 11/29)

[wayward-dreamer]

SCREAMING!!!!

I never got to the original (I suck I know) so I’m REALLY looking forward to this!! I’m so excited about a Joel series after so long 🥹

[a7estrellas]

Happy 61st wedding anniversary to Reed Richards & Sue Storm!

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL enjoying his tacos de birria

[prideandprejudice]

#they know each other, you honor | (requested by anon)

[chandlebing]

TED LASSO (2020– ) S01E03 | Trent Crimm: The Independent

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL during the Q&A for 'The Invite"

[kokoluwie]

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL moderates a Q&A for ‘THE INVITED’ directed by Olivia Wilde