#i was giggling kicking my feet back writing this

[joelsdagger]

nic. big beautiful brained human you. come here for a second i wanna have a chat.

Instead, your eyes widened to see Joel Miller standing on your porch, holding a bottle of rum you knew your father liked. He was older than you remembered with more gray on his head and in the facial hair that accentuated his upper lip and jaw. The seasonal flannel he wore looked tighter across his broad chest, the thin jacket he layered on top only accentuated his wide shoulders and thick biceps. There were a couple more wrinkles on his forehead, some additional creases you counted on the side of his eyes, still as warm and brown as you last saw them. He grows more handsome with age you’ve come to notice.

You could hear Sarah teasing Joel about his outfit on that hot summer day, embracing the title of barbecue dad like a badge of honor. He kept himself busy over the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs as the brisket continued to cook in the smoker, authentic to the Texan cuisine you grew up with. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him that whole day, watching his throat bobbing with every sip of his beer, how he laughed loudly at something Tommy had said in passing, tossing his head back to show all of his pearly white teeth, both dimples on display. You could spot his softened tummy through the corny t-shirt he wore, his ass accentuated by the jeans he still managed to wear despite the burning sun.

i love love looovvvveeeee a good joel description. you got me giggling and kicking my feet every time you mentioned it.

i absolutely fell in love with reader, as a fellow eldest immigrant daughter, I AM ON HER SIDE. you made joel so sweet and patient and it’s exactly what she needs. they fit together so well, its as easy as breathing and i’m rooting for them so hard. this was beautiful nic, as your writing always is ❤️‍🔥

EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY

─ Joel Miller x fem! reader || WC: 10.9k (oops)

SYNOPSIS: Against your best judgment, you take a flight back to your hometown in Texas to celebrate the holidays with your hectic family. Amidst the chaos started by the people you shared blood with, Joel Miller is there to mend the pieces and more.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. No-Outbreak AU. Age gap implied. [Joel is hitting 50, reader is late 20s]. Primarily Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller. Explicit Language. Alcohol consumption. Oral sex (m & f receiving). Unprotected Sex (p/v). Kissing. Admissions of feelings. Mutual pining. Toxic family household. Mentions of past cheating. Slight homophobia & fatphobia. Patriarchal & misogynistic views on women. Mentions of childbirth and marriage. Mentions of religious upbringing. Reader is originally from Arlington, Texas & currently lives in NYC. Reader is described to have hair, wear makeup, and wear feminine clothing. Reader is very close friends with Sarah Miller. Joel is a long time family friend. Lots of drama. We all hate aunt Evelyn.

➣ Disclaimer: This story includes ignorant language & bigotry that may be offensive to people (the word queer in this fic is used in an offensive manner). The dialgoue in this fic is meant to highlight the toxic household the reader came from. I do not support such usage of language.

A/N: Happy belated holidays & New Years. This fic took me much longer to finish and that really pissed me off but I'm just glad it's done. Thank you to my prima @gothcsz for the proofread, and for holding my hand along with @joeloverture as I wrote this fic cause only you guys know how much of a stressor this was for me. I apologize for any typos or repeating words I did not catch and any warnings I forgot to add. Anyways, reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated!

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When the message from your mom came through to invite you back home for the holidays, you felt hesitant to confirm your presence back in the very place you planned to escape from years ago. Yet, the burden of familial obligation overwhelmed you, planning out the last couple of days in December to visit your folks perhaps for what felt like the last time. The trip back to Texas was dreary and long winded, a packed four almost five hour flight from New York City to Dallas with a handsy, fidgeting couple in your row almost brought you to the brink of insanity if it wasn’t for your noise cancelling headphones being your saving grace. Thankfully, you slept for the majority of the flight, waking up once to get your free ginger ale and biscoff cookies as tradition demanded, and by the second time your plane was landing in Texas.

The temperature difference took you off guard, peeling off your thermal jacket and holding it in your arm as you grabbed your carry-on and called for an uber to your hotel. The safest option for you was to pay for a room in the city to avoid your mom bribing you to extend your stay longer than you wanted.

After a day of getting situated in your hotel room and sleeping off the lingering jetlag, you mentally prepared to meet your family after much time away in the East Coast. You meticulously planned out your outfit to be the perfect balance of sensible and formal, a sweater dress cinched with a golden belt by the waist, paired with black pantyhouse and heels to match. Your makeup was equally as tasteful, natural to not distort your face, but layered enough to hide your facial imperfections.

Bringing a bottle of wine as a “welcome back home gift”, you called another Uber destined to your hometown of Arlington, Texas, a different region entirely from the tall skyscrapers you’ve grown fond of in the Big Apple. Walking up the steps of the wooden front porch you’ve known for most of your childhood, nervous fingers reach to press the doorbell, fussing with the edge of your dress and tugging it down as much as it would allow. The moment the door opened, the facade that’s kept you safe all of these years turned on like an involuntary switch, now met with your mother.

“Honey! You’ve made it.” She instantly brought you in for a hug, giving the side of your cheek a kiss. “I hope the trip wasn’t too bad, it seems like everyone wanted to travel this year.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Plus, I brought wine.” You said to her, the smile on her face widening as she took the bottle happily, stepping to the side to let you in.

Holding your trenchcoat in one arm, you stepped into your childhood home and looked over the wall of family photos in the entryway, still in the same frames and spots as you last remembered. You stalled to look over one of the frames, a family photo that was taken back when you were a pre-teen, you could tell from the animal print leggings and shin-high laced converse you wore.

Oh, how the time flew by.

There was a bunch of commotion towards the living room, standing by the archway to spot other members of your rather hectic family. Some of your aunts and older cousins gathered around the television already a few glasses of wine into the night, currently watching something you didn’t care to pay attention to, critiquing the appearances of the women on the screen as a means to feed their broken egos. Thankfully, the family members with younger children weren’t here, the slightest bit of ease settling your nervous system at the thought of not needing to monitor children that weren’t yours. You got the rundown that luckily, your mom had downsized her usual Christmas dinners, most of your extended family opting to save their money and host their own celebrations closer to home. Less people to deal with, even better for you.

Your younger sister came down the stairs once she heard of your arrival, practically jumping on her toes and waiting patiently to have you spot her. You didn’t deny her the hug she had been waiting for since hearing you were coming back home, wrapping her arms tightly around you in an affectionate squeeze.

“Been a while pipsqueak. You've gotten taller since the last time I visited.” You teased her, taking in her slightly mature appearance as if it were the first time you were meeting her despite the facetime calls shared between you. Really, she was the only member of your immediate family you kept in touch with nowadays, the only person you’d want to speak to anyway.

“Yeah yeah, I can finally reach your shoulders.” She replied with a laugh. “Thought you’d bail out this time around.”

“Didn’t think it would be too overwhelming if I visited. How’s college going? Are they treating you alright in California?”

“It’s pretty good. Biology is pretty easy, but I have the absolute worst organic chemistry professor, thankfully me and the other students have a study group so I think I’ll manage. I’m still not used to California, being close to the San Andreas fault keeps me up at night.” Your sister’s irrational fear made you giggle, your head turning over your shoulder once you heard a familiar male voice through the walls of the kitchen, your father making an appearance as he reached into the fridge for what you could imagine was a beer.

“How’s dad doing?” You asked timidly.

“Well, he’s still a bit upset about you leaving after all of these years. I don’t think he’ll ever live that down, but for the most part I think he’s alright.” Your sister’s shoulders rose and dropped in a shrug, not wishing to press on with this conversation topic.

In the midst of asking about what your mother could be cooking, the doorbell rang and your name was called from the dining room to answer it. Parting away from your sibling, you reached for the front door knob fully expecting another distant relative on the other side of the threshold holding a pan of some dish as a welcome gift.

Instead, your eyes widened to see Joel Miller standing on your porch, holding a bottle of rum you knew your father liked. He was older than you remembered with more gray on his head and in the facial hair that accentuated his upper lip and jaw. The seasonal flannel he wore looked tighter across his broad chest, the thin jacket he layered on top only accentuated his wide shoulders and thick biceps. There were a couple more wrinkles on his forehead, some additional creases you counted on the side of his eyes, still as warm and brown as you last saw them.

He grows more handsome with age you’ve come to notice.

“Hey darlin’.” The baritone of his voice washed over you suddenly, smooth in your ear like honey. It took you a second to realize you’ve been blatantly staring at him before finding words. 

“Hiya Joel. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were coming by.” Moving to the side to let him through, you tried your hardest not to stare at the length of his back as he sauntered past you.

“Your mom invited me, heard you were visitin’ so I wanted to see you. Been a while.” The idea of Joel possibly missing you brought a flutter to your chest, but you swallowed it down with a calm nod of your head.

“Yeah, I haven't been back in a long time. How’s Sarah doing? She told me she couldn’t make it for this week.” Ah yes, the mention of his daughter and your childhood friend brought a sly smile to his face.

“She’s over in Chicago celebratin’ the holidays with her boyfriend’s family. Told me she’ll be back for New Years so at least she’ll get to see her old man for a few days. She misses you, you know?”

“She definitely told me that after apologizing for not being able to see me now. I bribed her to make it up to me with a really nice gift.” You both laughed amongst yourselves, the sense of familiarity you always got with Joel in particular made it easier to talk to him, even if it’s been some time since you’ve been back home. “You look good Joel.”

It slipped out before you could take it back, misinterpreting how that could’ve come off. Yet Joel, ever the considerate man, responded with equal amounts of charisma.

“You look good too darlin’.” There was a pause, a single breath that could’ve disrupted the vibe had you cared to look into it more than you’d like. Instead, your mother came to interrupt the minor moment you were having with your best friend’s father.

“Joel! So happy you could come by.” She embraced him much like she had done when you initially came in, with Joel wrapping one thick arm around her waist and holding the rum bottle in his other hand. “You brought a gift for Joseph?”

“Couldn’t come empty handed, wouldn’t be very gentleman like.” The three of you chuckled, but you caught the way he glanced at you as he spoke before looking at your mom again, your cheeks warming the slightest bit when he did so.

“He’d love it. Sweetie, why don’t you go in the kitchen and check on the rolls in the oven. Take this with you.” She hands you the rum bottle Joel had brought, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the instant dismissal. Joel gave you another look over as you turned on your heels to head to the kitchen, checking over your mom’s cooking.

Your sister had come by to give you company as your mom paraded Joel around to your aunts and other relatives. Evelyn, your recently divorced aunt for the second time might you add, was eyeing Joel like he was a piece of meat, reapplying her lipstick and curling her hair behind her ear for a chance to have his attention on her. You and your sister snickered under your breath at her obvious antics, making hushed comments of your own as you poured yourself a cup of wine to sip on.

Your family have been preoccupied drinking away and making mundane conversation while you stayed behind to inspect the rest of your mother’s extensive menu, letting the bread rolls cool off and switching out their place with a fresh apple pie. Bending over to check on the pastry through the glass oven door, you watched the dough edges caramelize into a brown, oblivious to an additional presence in the kitchen with you.

“It won’t cook any faster if you glare at it like that.” Joel quipped, his voice startling you as your back straightened.

“No harm in checking, you know how my mom is with her cooking.” You stated, gesturing over to Joel’s almost empty glass. “You want a refill?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Joel handed you his glass, ignoring the feel of his fingers grazing yours as he passed it over. He watched you from the side of your face as you mixed him a rum and coke, just the way he liked, the way you learned he liked. “Learned some new skills in the big city?”

“Bartended for a few years to pay off the living expenses. Was a pain in the ass, but at least I can make a mean cocktail.” Your little jest made Joel chuckle under his breath, passing him his new drink. He took a tentative sip, offering a satisfied hum.

“It’s good. Remind me to give you a tip later on.” You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head, refilling your glass of wine. “Your aunt, Evelyn if I remember, I think she’s tryin’ to make a pass at me.”

“Well, she is divorced, so it’s not farfetched to think she might want to shoot her shot while she can. She doesn’t tickle your fancy?”

“She ain’t really my type.” For some reason, you felt relieved to hear that from him, despite feeling a bit guilty for doing so. “Been sticking to myself, you know?”

“Right. I forgot you were sticking to the whole ‘single dad bachelor’ type of vibe.” He was smirking now, the appearance of a dimple on his cheek tugged at your chest. 

“So you’re saying I’m a bachelor?”

“If we’re being technical, yes you would fit the bracket, bonus points for being a girl dad too.”

“Well now you’re just butterin’ me up.” You knew you were, but you shouldn’t entertain it in that way, even if you wanted to. Acting nonchalant about it, you shrugged, sipping away at your wine once more.

“Listen, I’m just reiterating what’s been told in Cosmopolitan. Don’t shoot the messenger.” You rose your hands up in feign innocence, much to Joel’s amusement.

“I definitely missed you around these parts. Always were a funny one, smart too.”

“Now I think you’re the one that’s buttering me up.” You were having trouble discerning if or you were outright flirting with Joel or if he was simply being kind after some time away. For now, you’ll blame it on the wine coursing through your system.

“Maybe. Just bein’ honest with you.” He swallowed more of the mixed drink you made him, holding the glass in his large hand, struggling not to examine the way his thick fingers gripped around the cup. “Listen, do you mind sittin’ by me at the table? I’m feelin’ like an outsider and frankly, I don’t mean to upset your aunt if she realizes her advances aren’t bein’ reciprocated.”

“Sure thing, Joel.” You couldn’t blame him for the proposition, hell you wanted to ask if he could sit with you. Looks like you were both interested in doing the other a favor on just getting through the night in one piece.

“You’re the best.”

It was the last thing he said before leaving you in the kitchen, his words of praise bouncing around in your head as you continued to watch over the pie, knowing the dinner you dreaded was quickly approaching.

After a while, your mom had called everyone over to the dinner table, the red and gold table cloth matching perfectly with the white porcelain and silverware gracing the mahogany wooden table. Everyone was quick to find a seat, your parents sitting on the right end and your extended family fanning out on the opposite side. Joel had already found his seat right in the middle of the table, and you took your place beside him on the right with a thankful smile, your sister situated across from you.

“Come, let us say grace.” Your mother declared out loud, your mind blanking at forgetting how religion was such an influential part of your upbringing despite your personal qualms with it.

Everyone around you closed their eyes and bowed their heads, reaching for the person besides them to hold their hand. Joel opened his palm and gestured to his hand with kind eyes, clasping your fingers in his once he felt you. As your mom recited the prayer you’ve tried to forget since you had moved away, you focused more on the way Joel’s touch felt against your skin. He gave you a couple of untimely squeezes, his thumb caressing over your knuckles as you tuned out the sound of your mother’s voice, mind wandering to places where it probably shouldn’t go while being surrounded by your family.

“Amen.” You heard from your right side, the dinner guests echoing afterwards, quickly snapping you out of your day dream.

“Amen.” You muttered last, reminiscing the final instant Joel had your hand in his before he dropped it, leaving it on your lap.

The bowl of fresh butter rolls circled around the table, snatching one as you planned out the rest of your plate. You took your pick of what was laid before you, some mashed potatoes, macaroni salad, glazed ham, and a piece of turkey breast. You brushed off a slick comment you heard down the table aimed directly at you and your portion control. The faster you eat and finish your meal, the less you would have to entertain familial bullshit.

The table burst into conversation, your guests exchanging recent and old memories as they munched away at the contents of their plates. Trying your hardest not to humor any overly personal inquiries from your parents, you made small talk with Joel and your sister, talking about school and childhood stories. Of course, that was short lived by the time your mom chimed in.

“So honey, how’s the city?” You know the chances of this conversation heading in the wrong direction were high, but you would like to give your mother the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she actually cares. Maybe she’s changed.

“It’s good. Finished my masters, moved into another apartment further downtown. Things are going well.” You kept your answer general, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t pry too much.

“That’s nice, I’m glad you finished your program. But that sounds a bit lonely, no? What happened with that boy you were talking to before? Oh what was his name…Daniel? Derrick?”

Oh of course. Your fucking ex of 2 years.

“You mean Devin?”

“Yes Devin! I liked that boy for you.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes into the back of your skull.

“I liked him too before I found out he cheated on me with his coworker. You knew that mom, yet you always remind me of him as if he’s some saint.” The table had gotten a bit quiet then, and you swear you could feel Joel’s eyes digging holes into the side of your head. You didn’t care much to mention your ex, you’ve grown past the bitterness you used to carry and already made your peace with it. Apparently your mom was still hung up on the one individual from your past you would do anything to forget.

“Yes, well, you can always forgive him for that, I’m sure he’s learned from his mistake. I just don’t want you to be all alone in the city. You are getting to that age where you should be thinking about having a family of your own, to have people who can take care of you.”

Of course she was going to fucking say that.

Your achievements didn’t mean shit to your parents. It didn’t matter if you went to college and graduated top of your class or excelled in your Master’s program, getting an offer to work at one of the biggest corporations in the country at a supervisory position. They were always more focused on when you planned on popping out children of your own for their comfort, to reassure them that their lineage will be passed on. That has always been bullshit to you.

“I’m focused on work and my career, so I’m not really interested in planning for a family of my own.” It was a straightforward response, you think it would be enough for your mom to read the room but it never was.

“How long are you planning on only prioritizing your career hun? You’ll be alone your entire life at this rate. Surely you want to have kids soon, you can’t leave me high to dry. I want some grandbabies of my own!”

“I like my job, I like where I’m at, and a kid doesn’t need to be added in the mix. I’ll be alright.” Your mother forced a hurt expression, real enough for a stranger to think you caused her physical pain. She wore the mask of victimhood well, but you’ve learned to see through her facade since you were a child.

“That city life has made you selfish. See, I told you this was going to happen before you left us. You’ve been telling me you wanted kids since you were little and now you’ve changed your mind.” You bitterly sniggered under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. Your sister shot you a look of concern, already familiar with the combative direction of this conversation.

“I’m selfish for not wanting kids? For changing my stance on it from a thought I had when I was six? That’s rich.” Before your mother could respond, the nail scratching voice of your aunt Evelyn hit your ears, always so quick to criticize and taunt.

“You won’t find a husband if you continue to be so work focused.” Your pulse pounded in your ears at how dense she had always been, but you weren’t a defenseless child anymore, you had a mouth of your own. “If you ever want to get married, you should learn how you can contribute to the home, to cook and take care of your family, like me and your mom were taught.”

“Really? And how has that turned out for you? You’re on your second divorce from your personal cheating scandal, so maybe I’m doing something right.” You’ve trained yourself to bite back after experiencing so much nonsense from your family. Besides, you weren’t obligated to be anybody’s emotional punching bag.

“The only thing you’re doing right is tightening your waistband. If your education stopped you from finding a man, your appearance certainly will when you’re wasting your youth away.”

You had lost your appetite a few minutes ago, feeding off of the years worth of irritation you felt coiling in your gut, dropping your silverware on the table. Since you’ve left for New York, you put so much into changing the way you thought about things, to undo the traumas you’ve experienced your entire life and unlearn the very things your family indoctrinated you into since you were young. You’ve done the work, and now you realize just how ridiculous the people you share blood with truly are, minus your sister of course.

“And then you wonder why I don’t visit for the holidays.”

“It’s not like you visit anyways.” Your eyebrows furrowed at your father’s voice, tensely looking towards him and growing tense at what will come out of his mouth. “New York has changed you for the worst. I told your mother it was a bad idea to let you go over there, and now you won’t come back to Texas.”

“Well when you guys act like this during a time that should be about love and family, do you really expect me to come back here? Come back to what exactly?”

“You don’t abandon your family, not the people who raised you and brought you into this world.” Is he fucking joking?

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world, and I didn’t abandon anybody. I went to school. I went to learn. To be somebody.”

“The only thing you learned is how to be ungrateful for the life you’ve been given, the life me and your mom worked hard to give you. And now you repay us by ending our family lineage.” 

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“For the love of God, I don’t want children and I don’t care about getting married. Why won’t you get that through your thick heads?”

“Your responsibility is to continue the growth of the family, to be a respectable woman and a wife to a nice man. Yet you go to the city, doing drugs and partying, losing your faith and probably behaving indecently. Maybe you’ve become one of those queers, an even worse abomination.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest at your father’s words, straining to keep them out of your head. Emotionally, you’ve already grown detached from the man you unfortunately shared blood with, and your time away from home along with the therapy you’ve gotten has shown you just how much pain this man has caused you.

You knew better than coming back home. There was nothing left here for you. And there was nothing else left for you to say.

“Woah, Joseph. That ain’t the way to talk to your kid, c’mon. You don’t say those things to anyone, much less to her.” Joel chastised, holding one hand up in your defense and the other landing on your lap, sensing the angry trembles washing over you.

“Ain’t no kid of mine acting this ungrateful in my damn home! She’s free to leave and go back to her city if that’s what she wants.” Holding your head high and standing up, your chair scraped against the wooden floor, shooting daggers of hatred directly at your father.

“Fuck you.” The words came out of you so vehemently you couldn’t take them back, not that you wanted to. Your other family members gasped around the table, closely watching the showdown between you and your parents.

“Apologize to your father right now!” Your mother had definitely lost her mind, but it came as no surprise that she’d instantly coddle your father instead of giving you the support you needed since you were a little girl.

“I won’t. But I’ll do you a favor and go back to my lovely city. You can all go fuck yourselves.”

Not bothering to look back and hear the additional comments from your bigots of parents, you grabbed your jacket and swiftly threw it over you, taking your purse and heading for the door. Before you fully stepped out, you went into the kitchen, taking the bottle of rum Joel had brought and the apple pie, covering it with a plate and forcefully slamming the front door.

Slumping on the porch bench, you dug into your purse to find your phone to call an Uber back to your hotel. Right as you opened the app and began typing your hotel’s address, the front door opened and closed again, finding Joel now standing by the entryway.

“You alright?” He asked, walking towards you to sit beside you on the bench, his presence easing you in ways you desperately needed at the moment. You hid your emotions well, but you knew it was a matter of time before you broke down to release your storming emotions.

“I will be. Just trying to get out of here really.” You weren’t as bubbly as when you first came home, sagging into yourself and face frozen in a neutral expression despite your eyes telling a whole different story.

“Let me drive you back. It’s the least I can do after watchin’ you go through that.” You should’ve expected him to want to help you out, he always did when things at home got too much to handle.

“It’s alright Joel, I can just get an Uber. You shouldn’t have to leave because of me ruining everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anythin’, and I don’t really have plans of stayin’ with your family, not after how they treated you. I’d rather make sure you’re okay.” He squatted in front of you with a grunt, knees popping as his hands went to sandwich yours, an act of kindness you took graciously. “Please, let me drive you away from here for the night, somethin’ for your peace of mind.”

“It’s a bit more than a thirty minute drive to Dallas.”

“I don’t mind the drive. I’ll do it if that means you’re somewhere comfortable.”

You knew he didn’t have to do that, you could pay the $75 late night fee to find your way back to Dallas and be left alone for the next few days, thinking about whether or not you should pay more money to reschedule your flight back to New York earlier than you had anticipated. But Joel was here, offering you the generosity you had been deprived of for so long, you knew there was no other convenient choice.

“Alright, I’ll appreciate the ride.”

In the next few minutes, you found yourself in the front passenger seat of Joel’s truck, carrying the apple pie you stole in your lap and the bottle of rum securely by your feet. He played some music to try to mellow you out over the 30 minute drive back to Dallas, your phone ringing a few moments later, seeing your sister’s contact picture pop up on your screen. Sliding your thumb on the green phone button to answer the call, you held the phone to your ear, answering all of her sudden questions.

Hey. Yeah I left. Yeah yeah I’m fine, promise, nothing I can’t handle. Yes I’m safe, Joel’s taking me back, Ubers were too damn expensive. Of course I took the damn pie, they didn’t deserve to eat it after that. Sure, I’ll try to save you a piece and you can pick it up tomorrow. I’m not mad at you, you know how they get, I didn���t want you to get involved with them in my defense, I can handle them now. I probably won’t be back for the rest of the break, but we can hang out before I leave and you go back to Cali. Yeah, I’ll let you know. I love you too pipsqueak, stay safe.

Joel did you a favor by keeping quiet for the entire drive, staying focused on the road and taking the fastest route to the city. You weren’t necessarily in the mood to talk anyway, stuck in your head and tuning out the music playing in his car, thinking of other solutions to the mess of your night. Time flew by so quickly, Joel had begun pulling into the driveway of your hotel, putting the car in park and turning off the radio momentarily, bringing your attention back to him.

“Thanks Joel, for getting me out of there. I’m sorry for what happened, for my family acting the way they did.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, family gets messy like that, I get it. It’s not your fault, just a shame they behaved that way durin’ the holidays.” Even if you didn’t ask for it, you appreciated his compassion. You just hoped the next thing you said didn’t ruin your current circumstances.

“You know, I didn’t eat much at dinner, and I have an entire apple pie and a bottle of rum to myself. Want to grab a bite and share it with me?”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected in his answer, but the small smile creeping on his face was all you needed to know you were in the clear.

“I wouldn’t mind some pie.”

After driving out to get some chicken tenders at a local spot that was still open and purchasing a full liter of coke, Joel took you back to your hotel, guiding him up the elevator and to your bedroom as he held the bag with your food. Taking your keycard from your purse, you inserted the small piece of plastic on the sensor by your door, opening it with a click.

The both of you leaned on your bed, munching away at your tenders and fries and sharing sips of watered down rum and cokes with cups provided by the hotel service. Your heels and belt were thrown to the floor, laying on your side while Joel was beside you, keeping his feet off of the bed, not trying to dirty your pristine sheets by mistake. The conversations between you flowed with ease, taking trips down memory lane and talking of all the moments you shared with each other while biting into the apple pie piece by piece. Sarah’s birthday parties and soccer games, high school prom, trips to the mall and sleepovers at the Miller’s household.

Being with Joel now at this very moment was the closest thing to normalcy you’ve felt since coming back to Texas after all of this time. If it were up to you, you would hold on to this feeling for as long as you could.

“Sarah told me she was thinking of coming back home next year, tells me she misses you a lot.” You mentioned to Joel, taking another swig of your mixed drink, losing count of what refill number you were on.

“She still has to figure out the whole transferrin’ of jobs from Chicago, especially with her boyfriend, but I won’t deny that the idea of havin’ my baby girl back home 'excites me.” The way Joel spoke of his daughter was always with pride, the love towards her evident in how his eyes brightened at the mere mention of her. Sometimes, you envied your close friend for having such a good relationship with her father, but you knew she was the most deserving individual you knew.

“I hope she does. I think it will be good for her, being back I mean.”

“I’m guessin’ you don’t feel the same about coming back here then?” You grew quiet at that, releasing a heavy sigh and swirling your cup around as you thought about your answer.

“My life in New York is different than it ever was here. It’s a huge lifestyle change, yes, a little chaotic moving to such a big city but…I’ve never been happier, never been more myself. It feels good, and I’ve worked too hard to lose that.”

Joel hums, sipping his drink in the same manner you did before, downing it completely and refilling again, looking into his cup to think of the proper words to comfort you.

“You worked hard to leave, to get out. If there ain’t nothin’ left here in Texas for you, then stay in New York, live your life, the life you want. Nobody should take that away from you, even your family.”

“I know that. It’s just, it’s hard not to feel guilty about it sometimes, leaving everything behind…dad’s still holding a grudge about it, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Family is a real messy thing, but just cause they’re your blood shouldn’t mean they dictate your whole life darlin’. You deserve to be happy, to thrive, and if it upsets them…well fuck ‘em.” His honesty made you chortle a bit, bashfully glancing at him to meet his softened gaze. “Besides, you have me and Sarah rootin’ for you always. Don’t matter the distance, we’re here for you even miles away.”

“I know. You guys have been there for me since the beginning, I don’t know how to repay you for that.”

“Nothin’ needs to be repaid. Only thing you should do is prioritize yourself and your career, everythin’ else can come afterwards. Relationships, kids if you want, all that can come after you’re settled in life.” If only it were that easy.

“Trust me, I’ve already made up my mind on kids, that’s an absolute no. Relationships are quickly finding their way on the no list too.”

“Damn, that bad huh?” You laughed under your breath, finishing the rest of your drink and reaching for the rum bottle for a refill, long passing the threshold of tipsiness. 

“You have no idea, Joel. But it’s alright, really, he was an asshole and I was just an idiot. I’ve made peace with it.” It was easier for you to say that compared to the actual healing process, the months worth of anguish from a broken heart put behind you once you were ready to move forward with your life.

“It’s a shame. A man disrespectin’ a pretty girl like you. Should knock some damn sense into him for lackin’ so much of it.”

Pretty girl.

“Would’ve been nice if you did that honestly. He deserved it.”

“I can fly back to New York if you want, rough him up real good.” If Joel was trying to make you feel better about your shitty night, he was doing a real good job of doing just that.

“No Joel, I don’t need to explain to Sarah why I had to bail you out of jail in the city. I have enough going on as it is.” The sound of lighthearted laughter filled the walls of your hotel room, the episode of some reality show you didn’t care for playing on the mounted TV in the background.

“Just sayin’, don’t let that one situation make you question your worth. Anybody would love to be with you, and if they don’t realize that, then they’re as blind as a bat.”

“You really think that?” You focused directly at him, his brown eyes landing on yours, taking in your facial features so intimately.

“I do darlin’. I really do.” From the soft tone he used when he said that, you could actually believe him. “You’re a lovely girl, I’m sure the right person will make you feel the way you deserve.”

“What about you?” You blurted out, the rum flowing through you lowered your inhibitions.

“What about me?”

“Are you one of those men that have sense?”

With how Joel had grown quiet, you would think you just fucked yourself over, making things weird between someone you’ve known for a large portion of your life. Yet he only stares off towards his feet, hesitant to meet your piercing gaze.

“I think under different circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to snatch you up, show you a good time. In another life maybe…”

“Why not this one?” At that, he almost snapped his neck to peer at you, the haziness in your pupils matching his own.

“Sweetheart…you know we can’t mess around that way. It ain’t right.” Of course he had to be the voice of reason. Fuck morality. Fuck holding yourself back. Fuck thinking so much about the hypotheticals until they smothered you in your sleep.

“It ain’t right to who exactly?”

“For starters, I’m a lot older than you, your parents would kill me.”

“Do you think I care what my parents have to say about me and my life choices? I stopped giving a shit about their opinions a long time ago.” You wanted to reason with him, to find a way to break his inner critic. “And you might be older than me, but we’re both consenting adults here. I’m not a kid anymore, Joel.”

“And what about Sarah? You’re close friends with my daughter, have been for a long time. Do you really want to risk your friendship just to be with an old man like me?”

“Joel…” You inched closer to him as he shakily sucked in a breath. “Sarah, well, yes we’re close, but she kinda figured out I’ve had a little crush on you for a while.” You were sincere when you had a little alcohol in your system, but your words continued to surprise Joel, giving him a sense of whiplash.

“You’re jokin’. Really? Since when?” As if it would be difficult to like a man like him.

“Remember when I came back to visit a few years ago for your mom’s birthday barbeque? You were wearing this stupid grilling shirt, and I think that was when my crush really sunk in for me. Thought you looked really cute.”

As you recalled the memory, you had a sheepish grin on your face. You could hear Sarah teasing Joel about his outfit on that hot summer day, embracing the title of barbecue dad like a badge of honor. He kept himself busy over the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs as the brisket continued to cook in the smoker, authentic to the Texan cuisine you grew up with. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him that whole day, watching his throat bobbing with every sip of his beer, how he laughed loudly at something Tommy had said in passing, tossing his head back to show all of his pearly white teeth, both dimples on display. You could spot his softened tummy through the corny t-shirt he wore, his ass accentuated by the jeans he still managed to wear despite the burning sun.

You were long gone the moment he smiled at you, tilting the tip of his beer bottle towards you in salute.

“So you don’t think it’s a bad idea to try and kiss you?” You couldn’t hide the smirk on your face even if you tried.

“No, I don’t think so.” You drew nearer to him, carefully testing your boundaries with the man that had always been considered as a family friend. Placing a hand on his chest and messing with the collar of his flannel, you offered him a genuine smile. “I really want you to kiss me Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be kind of me if I kept you waitin’ any longer, right?”

Joel inclined towards you, hovering his mouth over yours and glancing between your eyes and your lips. Finally, he graced your lips with a kiss, cradling the back of your neck as his thumb caressed the spot behind your ear. He tasted like you expected, a mixture of rum and apple pie, a sweet combination garnishing your tongue.

Jerking on the collar of his flannel to bring him closer, you instinctively crawled into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips to sit comfortably on his pelvis. He grunted under his breath, a heavy hand now on your lower back, holding you by the waist while the other caressed your cheek. You willingly opened your mouth wider when his tongue teased over your lower lip, welcoming the wet muscle to curl around yours with a muted hum.

You spent a good while simply kissing Joel, sitting above him chest to chest with your hips gently grinding into his, feeling a bump growing under the confines of his thick jeans. He squeezed your hip and pulled away from you for some air, setting his forehead against yours as he huffed through his nose.

“Darlin’...this might be embarrassin’ but, it’s been a while since I did anythin’ like this.” Despite being in the same predicament as him, his confession only seemed to arouse you even more.

“Been a while for me too.” You admitted, stroking his chest through the soft material that covered him, thrumming your fingertips over his collarbone. Trailing your lips over his jaw and the side of his neck, you whispered in his ear. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You sure you want that?” If you looked at Joel long enough, you would see the slight blush painting over his features. “Don’t need to do anythin’ you don’t want to.”

“Positive.” One of your hands drifted to palm the bulge in his jeans, the groan rumbling in his chest made you clench around nothing. “Want you in my mouth. Please?”

“Alright baby, alright. Take what you want.”

With a grin you slipped away from Joel and eased down to your knees, letting him stand for easier access. Antsy fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, taking the leather strap out before yanking it off all in one go, tossing it behind you and popping the button of his jeans open to pull them down with his black briefs. His cock poked out for you to marvel at, hard and heavy as it was revealed to you. You concealed the moan that threatened to tumble out of your mouth at the sight.

You didn’t bother wasting any time teasing Joel, instantly pressing several kisses to his tip and the underside of his shaft, lavishing your tongue over the bulging vein under his length. In an instant, your lips circled over his throbbing crown, swirling your tongue around the circumference of him and slithering it over his slit. Breathing deeply in your nose, you took him into your throat on the next exhale, relaxing to take more of him, feeling him in the depths of your esophagus.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. Are you tryin’ to kill me?” Joel rasped above you, bringing one of his large palms to hold the back of your head, palming your skull as you hummed around him.

Drawing your head back and timing your breaths, you adopted a forceful rhythm, bouncing your head with enthusiasm and clutching at the denim over Joel’s thighs. You lost yourself to your movements, glassy eyes staring up towards Joel, observing the way his head was thrown back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing with every breath he struggled to have.

His thick fingers grasped at the hair on your head, keeping you in place and lightly thrusting into your mouth, chasing the feeling of your warm tongue stroking the underside of his cock. You encouraged his movements, unhinging your jaw and opening your mouth wider, your hands tugging on the back of his thighs to bring him forward. He eyed you closely, watching the tentative manner you held his gaze, an invitation for more.

“Gonna let me fuck up into that perfect mouth of yours, huh?” Joel croaked, yanking your head back to give you a forceful thrust, one you skillfully took and mentally prepared for with a swallow.

The man above you continued with his rough touch, bucking into your mouth with his heavy balls slapping into your chin, feeling every pant through your nose over the wet spit that covered his length. Your nails dug into his thighs, tears lining your lids as you felt the heavy weight on your tongue twitch, whirring in confirmation to coax Joel to fall over the edge, to feed you with his taste, something you’ve only dreamed of at the late night hour in private. The gruff moans coming from Joel dampened your panties, surely ruined by now as the material uncomfortably clung to your body.

“Shit…sweetheart I’m gettin’ close,” he didn’t need to confirm what you already knew, but you appreciated the notion anyway. You buzzed in affirmation, bobbing your head faster over Joel and taking a hand to knead over his balls, thumb pressing right into the crease between them, a primal growl pouring out of the older man as his vision went white.

“Fuuuuuck!” The sound Joel released as he came in your mouth would’ve been enough to bring you to the edge on your own. Your nose pressed into the coarse hair at the base, his musk overpowering your senses as you milked him for everything he had to give, happily drinking down his release with a gurgle. He didn’t need to shove your head down to keep his spurting cock down into your esophagus, you did it all on your own, hungry to every bit of him until he was running on empty.

With ease, Joel plucked you away from him, his softening cock slipping out of your mouth with a line of spit connecting you to his length. Giving the sensitive tip of him one last parting kiss, your lashes flapped upwards to meet Joel’s darkened brown eyes, now engulfed in black.

He pulled you to your feet and brought his lips to yours, chasing the taste of him in your mouth. You moaned against him, gripping the collar of his flannel and scratching at the nape of his neck, biting his plush bottom lip before he withdrew.

“Had I known it would feel like that, I would’ve made a move a while ago.” He cheesily said, making you giggle and place another kiss over his mouth.

“You can make up for lost time then,” you replied cheekily, humming at the way the tip of his nose ghosted yours. He brought you to stand fully before him, widening his legs and stuffing himself back into his briefs for the time being, leaving his jeans haphazardly unbuttoned.

“I sure can. Wanna see all of you now baby. Can I take this off of you?” God. Even the way he asked just to peel your clothes off of you was attractive, nodding enthusiastically.

His antsy fingers reached for your baggy sweater dress, lifting the material above your head in one fell swoop, careful not to ruin your makeup or hair further. He was kind enough to fold the dress and place it over on the farthest corner of the bed, the act bringing an airy giggle to your lips. As he turned to look at you, standing in front of him in your lace underwear set and pantyhose, he tried his hardest to suppress his audible moan of approval.

“Christ. Ain’t you a pretty thing.” He touched your waist, bringing you closer to him so he could nuzzle into your chest, placing affectionate kisses over the swell of your breasts. He meticulously reached for the bra clasp in the back, undoing it with finesse and tossing it to the floor. He stared at you in awe, rough graying stubble rubbing against the soft skin of your breasts, calloused thumbs stroking your stiffening nipples as you curved into his touch.

“I just know you taste as good as you look darlin’.”

Joel maneuvered you to lay on the mattress, your back bouncing a bit from the movement, waiting for Joel’s next move. He hovered above you, kissing your lips before moving to plant kisses down your neck and collarbone, shifting between the valley of your breasts and lining his lips with one of your nipples. Swirling his tongue around the stiff peak, he suckled at the nub, bringing a moan to your throat and a slight arch of your back, pinching and plucking at the other nipple. He pried away from your slick nipple and blew over the peak, drawing his attention to the other and doing the same, alternating his touch and attention.

Warmth pooled in your gut, gasping once Joel was ready to reciprocate the attention you had given him, grasping the flare of your hips and kissing down your sternum and lower stomach, running his chin over the waistband of your pantyhose.

“You better not think about ripping them.” You joked with him, seeing him smirk with a dimple popping in his cheek.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, unless you let me.” He jested right back, carefully taking hold of the waistband of your pantyhose and peeling them down your hips and thighs, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You aided him in removing the fabric off your body with a kick of your foot, getting a kiss on your knee as a thank you. Joel took one more minute to appreciate the way you looked in your black lace panties, the soft wet flesh underneath barely covered by the material. Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers with the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and tossing away the last article of clothing you had over your figure.

The sight of you bare with nothing obstructing his vision made Joel’s heart pang in his chest, the organ pumping between his ribs a tad bit harder as you spread your legs for his view, inviting him to take a good look at you.

“Fuck darlin’. Look at that.” He drawled, his voice dropping an octave as he noticed the slick skin of your glistening flesh, your clit peeking out from under its hood, twitching and desperate for his attention. “That’s for me baby? All from suckin’ my cock?” Joel Miller had a mouth on him, but you loved it.

“Yeah, I liked having you in my mouth.” You didn’t feel ashamed of the truth, sitting up on your elbows as one of your hands swam between your legs, spreading your lips for Joel to get a better close-up of the deep pink between your thighs. “Now I think you should repay the favor.”

He was so fucked.

Joel didn’t pause his movements, diving head first between your legs and licking a broad stripe up your cunt, groaning at the taste of you invading his mouth. His fingers clasped around your thighs, keeping you spread open for him as he feasted over your pussy, shifting his tongue over your twitching flesh, gathering as much of your arousal as he could get on his lips. His nose pressed into the sensitive nub of your clit, his tongue gliding lower to twist inside you, fucking up into you as you bucked your hips into his face.

“Taste so fuckin’ good darlin’. As ripe as a fuckin’ peach.” Joel commented in a muffled grouse between your thighs, eating away at you with added fervor.

He pulled away for some air, your arousal staining his chin and upper lip, marking your territory. His plump lips veered to your twitching clit, wrapping around the nub and swiveling his tongue over the tip much like you had done with his cock a few minutes prior. The act had you keening louder, one of your hands coming to tug at the graying curls on his head, clutching the strands in your fist to keep him sucking at your clit in attentive pulses.

“Fuck Joel. Yes, yes, that’s so good, feels so good.” He grumbled around your pussy in praise, taking it up a notch as one of his hands moved, his fingertips skimming your entrance and plunging two of his digits inside you, down to the knuckle.

You gasped from the added stretch, your walls pulsing around his fingers as you adjusted to the intrusion. If you were feeling like this from just his fingers, you couldn’t imagine how taking his cock might feel, how it will stretch you out from the inside. You twitched around him at the thought, craving the release he waved in front of you like a treat.

Joel thrusted his fingers in time with the sucking of his lips around your clit, pulling out his digits and burrowing them back in. In and out. In and out. A steady push and pull that made your thighs shake beside his head, your grip tightening between his hair and the bed sheets under you, hips jerking up into him, trying to take more of his fingers. He curled his digits on the next drive, hitting something divine that sent a shot of lightening up your spine, the pressure building in your belly as the rope of tension threatened to snap at any given moment.

You could feel yourself clenching around him, your walls tightening as you were brought closer to the edge than ever thought possible. Your cries turned breathless, airy whimpers pouring out of you in par with the arousal that seeped out of your cunt and onto the bed underneath.

“Joel…I’m so close.” The curve of your back deepended, the man on his knees before you sucking with more intensity, pressing his fingertips into the textured spot inside in faster pulses, the entirety of his mouth slurping the length of you.

“C’mon baby. Give it to me. I know she wants to spill for me, let me taste her.” Joel was determined to make you fall apart because of him, inserting a third finger for an additional stretch, the act of the blunt edge of his teeth scratching your slick pearl was your undoing.

You shook as you hit your limit, climaxing with Joel’s fingers never ceasing their lunging, milking your orgasm for what it was worth. Both of your hands were fastening the gray strands at Joel’s scalp, throwing your head back against the mattress and coming with a broken cry of his name, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the pure euphoria that overwhelmed you from the force of your climax.

All too soon, your body grew limp on the mattress, Joel slipping his fingers out of your pussy and cleaning them off with his mouth. He placed one last parting kiss on your twitching clit, kissing around your mound and inner thighs in an attempt to soothe you, leaving another smooch over your hip and floating up your body before meeting your face. You blinked up at him, cheeks heated at the way his lips plumped up from the work they did, his lower face shining in the lighting of your hotel room from your arousal.

You tugged him down for a passionate kiss, winding your tongue around his, devouring the tangy flavor of your release coating his mouth.

“Need you to fuck me,” you begged hastily against him, sneaky fingers going to haul Joel’s flannel from his softened tummy, craving more of him. “Please, Joel.”

“Baby, I would, I want to… didn’t bring anythin’ with me. Wasn’t even thinkin’ about doing somethin’ like this.” Ever the considerate man, of course he would be thinking about protection. Frankly, you could care less.

“Got tested a while ago and I’m covered. It’s fine, Joel. Trust me.” You bargained with him, sense thrown out the window as you clenched around nothing, wanting to be claimed and taken by the man you’ve fantasized about since going away for college, the man you’ve compared every previous partner to since the beginning. “Just want to feel you.”

“You will darlin’, you will. Not gonna leave you runnin’ on empty now. Not while I’m right here.”

Joel swiftly removed his jeans and briefs in one piece, hard cock bouncing between his legs as he undid the buttons of his flannel, peeling it off with your help. You released a lighthearted giggle when one of his arms got stuck in his white undershirt, mimicking your laugh and smirking at the appearance of your smile. His knees sank into the fluffy comforter of the bed underneath you, large hands taking hold of your hips and towing you closer to the edge.

“Thought that was funny?” he bantered above you, kissing your lips and enjoying the reciprocation of his actions, his length twitching beside your thigh.

“Maybe. It was cute…” you murmured, hand taking hold of him to pump his shaft with a jerk of your wrist, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. “Are you done teasing me now?”

“I might be. You’re gettin’ desperate?”

“For you to fuck me? Yes, I am.” Your thumb swiped over his tip, the sticky precum wetting your digit. “Been waiting too damn long.”

“Then put me inside darlin’. Let me feel you.”

You positioned him over your aching cunt, his hips thrusting over the seam of your pussy, sticky tip grinding into your sensitive clit. He felt good like this, mind running on empty imagining what he would feel like inside you. You didn’t have to imagine too much when his tip bumped into your entrance, his hips tentatively rolling to plunge into your waiting warmth, your hands jumping to clutch his freckled bicep. Joel didn’t stop pushing into you until he was down to the hilt, balls deep and groaning at the feel of your walls pulsing around his thickness, adjusting to his size.

Eyes beating closed, Joel put more of his weight on his forearms, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down, not focusing too much on how warm and wet you felt, wanting to last and make this experience good for you. Meanwhile, you had already lost all focus, the depth of him could be felt in your chest, widening your pelvis just to accommodate him.

“God, Joel,” you practically mewled under him, clamping around him once more, forcing Joel to open his eyes on you.

“Sweetheart, don’t…fuck don’t do that…” he panted, pinning your hips down into the mattress to keep you in place, trying not to cum too early. “Ain’t gonna make me last.”

“Just fuck me,” Joel had started to slowly bump into you, pulling his hips back and leaving half of him outside of you to plunge back inside, savoring the gasp you gave him. “Fuck me.”

“Look at you, already beggin’ for it. You like my cock that much darlin’? Like havin’ this old man fuck you right?”

“Yes.” Your wispy reply made Joel chuckle, a deep rumbling you felt inside you as he kept his steady pace. “So fucking deep.”

“Yeah? Feel me deep in ya?” You nodded dumbly, his forehead pressing into yours, your eyebrows furrowing as he hit that delicious textured spot tucked in the roof of your canal. Your legs wrapped around his waist, accepting his passionate kiss, unabashedly moaning into his mouth.

Joel began to pick up the pace, pouring all of his energy into the drives of his hips, listening to the high pitched whimpers that came out of you. He leaned forward a bit more, his hands raising the underside of your thighs, allowing him to slip just a tad deeper inside you. The angle brought a cry punching through your lungs, squirming under him from his consistent thrusts.

The hotel room filled with sounds of skin slapping, his heavy balls slapping into you, your slick covering the length of him every time he fucked into you, letting your pussy taste every gracious inch he had to give. You were getting close again, pawing at Joel’s broad chest and tightening your hips around his waist. He kept his deep and precise pace, sending the tip of him kissing your cervix with every pound.

“Joel,” you whined out, glassy eyes struggling to focus on him as your pussy grew taught around him, the tell tale signs of your pending orgasm creeping up on you, building in intensity as the hair at the base of him grazed your tender clit with every grind.

“I know, I know. Can feel you flutterin’ around me.” His words made you whimper, clutching at him harsher, your deep crimson nails creating fresh streaks down his back, leaving your mark for him to admire in the morning. “Let me feel it darlin’, need you to cum around me. C’mon baby, c’mon.”

With his gentle coaxing and a bite to the side of your jaw, you fell apart for him a second time, a wail resounding the walls of the bedroom, silently praying that the walls were relatively sound proof. Joel fucked you through your release, an audbile squelch filling the room as you soaked his cock, your thighs quivering as he milked your orgasm to finality.

“That’s it. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His praise brought heat to your face and the tip of your ears, heart lurching at the thought of being his girl. “Fuck, where do you want me sweetheart?”

“Inside,” you pleaded meekly, head bouncing limply as he pounded harder into you, letting him use your cunt for his own release, making an effort to clamp around him as an invitation, wounding your legs tight around him with whatever strength you had left.  “Please Joel. Fill me.”

“Christ. That fuckin’ mouth,” Joel was heaving now, sweat dripping down his brow and the bridge of his nose as his climax grew to profound heights, a tingling in his lower back that he could feel in his balls. “Gonna fill this pussy up ‘till you feel me tomorrow.”

Two more drives and Joel growled as he came inside you, his spend dribbling into every crevice and you took it all with a fucked out smile. You whizzed as your body tingled from the aftermath of fucking Joel Miller, a family friend that was significantly older than you, not like you cared all too much. Joel struggled to keep upright after his vigorous orgasm, pulling you with him as he laid down on his side, facing you.

“You alright?” Joel asked you once you gained your bearings, his palms rubbing your cheeks and keeping you present in the moment during your comedown.

“Mhm. Can’t really feel my legs.” You conceded with a grin, Joel following through and wearing the same blissful expression on his face.

“Means I did my job right then.” Tired chuckles replaced the sounds of panting, basking in the weightless feel of laying next to Joel like this.

He kept his palm on your cheek, caressing your heated skin and running his fingers over your jaw as you breathed in and out. You don’t recall a time where you ever felt this good, where you felt truly satisfied after being with someone or giving somebody access to your body in such a passionate way. Had you known you would’ve gotten that from Joel Miller of all people, you would’ve made a pass at him a long time ago and saved yourself the trouble of wasting your time with your mediocre ex.

A voice nagged in the back of your head, the echo of wondering what comes after this. You wondered what Joel was thinking in his foggy subconscious, if the post-coitial clarity was starting to hit him and he was second guessing what you two had done. You didn’t want the guilt to kick in just yet, to imagine the consequences and have them ruin the perfect manifestation of your biggest fantasy. You’ll both figure it out somehow, like you always did, right now, all you wanted was to enjoy Joel for as long as he’d allow.

“I wouldn’t mind having you stay the night, sleep off the rum and apple pie before you go home.” It was a flimsy suggestion, half serious and half not, but as you looked directly into those chocolate orbs of his, watching them soften at your inexplicit question. His lips turned upwards then, your heart hanging on to hope that maybe, you weren’t asking for too much.

“Yeah, I reckon that’s a good idea darlin’.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, much softer than how he had just rendered you boneless.  “Like I said, you were always a smart one.”

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[rustedleopard]

I'll ask! Would Cerojin get divorced? They are both very stubborn people. I can see them trying to work it out somehow (even if only for Kanako's sake).

I love how people are starting to see me as the Cerojin divorce guy, lol

For the most part, I see Ceroba's and Chujin's relationship going out in such a spectacular fashion that there's no way for them to try to salvage it. I'm talking "months/years of poor communication and the stresses of life and having to provide for the family practically singlehandedly" putting cracks in the dam that is Ceroba's idolization of Chujin that holds back anything... unsavory that she might feel about him. And then, one day, the dam breaks and Ceroba goes from "Chujin is so wonderful and perfect" to "Chujin is awful. He's done nothing but bum around while I've had to do everything for the family!!! I hate him!!!" And then their relationship goes out in a full-on "flinging magic and words you can't take back (and maybe a chair)" messy explosion. (Okay, well, it wouldn't be immediate, there would be signs that Ceroba's getting frustrated with him, but she's too busy trying to bury/ignore those feelings, so you'd only really see her temper flare up occasionally before she tries to steady herself by saying "My husband is a wonderful person, I'm doing what I can to help him. I shouldn't be acting like this" and Chujin's too busy focusing on what he wants to do that he's not paying attention to how his wife feels. They CANNOT communicate properly for the life of them :'). The relationship still peters out pretty quickly once Ceroba stops feeling the love, though.)

Buuuuuut, let's say that they're able to communicate well enough that they can tell each other "We NEED to make this work. We can't get a divorce. We can't have our marriage fail." Well... It would be a nightmare. To say the least. They'd both only try to force the relationship and make it work for their own egos without any of the groundwork that makes a relationship work, so at best it'd be a public performance of what a happy couple should look like instead of what it would be like. A happy and healthy marriage needs more than just love to work. It needs trust. It needs shared responsibilities. It needs proper communication. And these are areas where Ceroba and Chujin fail each other. Sure, maybe they might be able to act like they tolerate each other when they're out in public (i.e. not yelling at each other, though there's still some weird tension between them that some people would be aware of). But behind closed doors, I can't see this facade holding up well. Conversations would be so insanely passive-aggressive, that you'd have to call them "passive-aggressive-aggressive." They would probably develop a routine like this every day:

Ceroba: "You're home late. How was work?" (<- Said with a smile tight enough that she could put teeth marks into steel)

Chujin: "Fine." (<- Chujin got his ear chewed off about not contributing financially around the house so he got the first job that he could to prove her wrong. He hates it and his negative feelings about his job rebound onto Ceroba because he feels like she forced him into it.)

Ceroba: "Oh, that's wonderful to hear! Well, dinner's on the table for you. Kanako and I already ate, so you'll have to have it alone."

Chujin: "... It's cold."

Ceroba: "Oh, well. That's what happens when you stay late at work without telling me. Microwave's in the kitchen, you can handle it yourself." (<- she is already thinking about the bottle)

And on and on and on. They'd be the sorts of people that everybody else around them wants them to get divorced because they're sick of all the arguing and stress and anger. Starlo in this situation, brave man that he is, tries to recommend that Ceroba gets a divorce and ends up getting yelled at because "How dare you suggest that we can't make things work!!" Martlet doesn't seem as privy to Chujin's home life as Starlo is with Ceroba, so all she knows is that things are rough at home, but she tries to invite him out bowling or to relax in Honeydew's hot spring to get some of the stress out. Both of them are trying their best to help their friends, but this isn't something that they can handle because their friends are just.... astronomically stubborn and stupid.

(And this isn't even getting into how a monster's health is heavily tied to their emotional state. A monster can literally be put into a near-death state from grieving too hard. Can you imagine how rough things would be with all that stress? Humans already experience a myriad of health problems when put under stress for an extended period of time, so you can just imagine how bad things would be healthwise for a monster. Food for thought...)

And as for Kanako? Oh my god. Out of everybody in this situation, she is the one I sympathize with/pity the most. Ceroba and Chujin have a choice in their relationship and how it's going/turns out, but Kanako doesn't. She's just a kid. Like I said earlier, on paper they might say that they're trying to make this marriage work, perhaps "for Kanako's sake," but that's their egos speaking because if they were actually paying attention to what their daughter wants, they'd realize that she'd be happier if they weren't fighting all the time, even if that means a divorce. I can see her feeling responsible for how terribly things are going because they keep saying "We're trying to stay together for your sake." Maybe she tries intervening in arguments to stop Mommy and Daddy from fighting each other, but over time gets burnt out on doing that because she's not stopping them from fighting, she's only delaying the inevitable. Most likely, she'd avoid being at home/around her parents as much as possible because there's so much tension at home and she never knows when tempers are gonna flare, so it's better to sleep over at friends or spend the day at the Wild East/the Sunnyside farm/at the playground/Cafe Dune/somewhere else. Over time, her parents' constant quarreling could even burn her out/make her jaded and irritated with her mom and dad as well as depressed because she feels like it's her fault they're like that. She never asked for her mom and dad to try to maintain their relationship for her sake; she just wants to be happy, whatever shape that happiness may take.

Tl;dr Divorce is a mercy in this situation.

[cookiepie111]

Hhhhhh! There's something about this dress! Something about it that screams Engel. Feel like könig would be in awe, his sweet Engel, a princess.

You won his heart the moment you walked in, graceful the very image of a princess. His princess, you will by the end of the night he's sure of that. Would you accept if he asked you to dance. If he wanted to embrace your beautiful form across the ballroom. Feel your warmth as his hand travelled down your back

He truly isn't worthy of the attention you give him

[luthqrs]

alright ds hot stuff?

[sefynarose]

Bound - A Short Sylus Story

(Loosely based off of Sylus’s dialogue if you don’t login for 30 days (based off the tiktok I saw, I could never leave him for a DAY let alone a month but I wanted some angst) Side note this ends abruptly because I stop writing when I lose inspiration so this is just me getting out the little scenario that played in my head :<).

TW: Mentions of blood, death, sadistic sylus, hurt mc, dom!sylus (?), etc.

(Let me know if I need any other tw's. I haven't had to do this on tumblr in forever!)

Mʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜɪᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀs I ғᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀɴᴅᴀɢᴇs, ᴍʏ ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴛʀᴇᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ. Tʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴜᴛᴀʟ, ᴀɴᴅ I ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀᴀɢ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴘsɪɴɢ.

Mʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ғʀᴇsʜ sᴄᴀʀs, sᴏᴍᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ I ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʜᴀɪʀʟɪɴᴇ ғʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʀɪʙ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ sᴇɴᴛ ᴀ sʜᴀʀᴘ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴡ ғʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ ᴍʏ ʙᴏɴᴇs ғᴇʟᴛ. I’ᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏsᴘɪᴛᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ, ʙᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ɴᴏᴡ, I sᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs, ᴡɪɴᴄɪɴɢ ᴀs I ᴅᴀʙʙᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴛɪsᴇᴘᴛɪᴄ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ɢᴀsʜ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ.

I sɪɢʜᴇᴅ, ᴄʟᴏsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜsʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴡᴀs ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ, sᴀᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏғᴛ ʀᴜsᴛʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɪᴅ ᴋɪᴛ.

I ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ—ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜɪᴍ.

Mʏ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ. Wᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ғᴏᴜɢʜᴛ. Nᴏᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀɴʏ ғɪɢʜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ʟɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʟ. I ʜᴀᴅ sᴛᴏʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ N109 ᴢᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʙʟɪɴᴅ ғᴜʀʏ, ɴᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜғғᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜs. Tʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, sᴏ I ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ. I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ. I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴠᴀʟ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ.

I ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ. Tʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍ ᴍᴇssᴀɢɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ, ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ I ᴡᴀs, ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ. I ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ sɪɴᴄᴇ. Iᴛ sᴀᴛ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇsᴋ, sɪʟᴇɴᴛ, ɪᴛs sᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴍɪɴᴏᴜs. I ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ, ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴏᴍʙ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏᴅᴇ. I ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ sᴜʀᴇ ɪғ ʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄ��ᴅ I ᴡᴀs ɢᴏɴᴇ. Bᴜᴛ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, I ᴡᴀs ᴛᴇʀʀɪғɪᴇᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ—ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ. Aɴᴅ ɪғ I ʜᴀᴅ sᴜᴄᴄᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴘɪssɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴏғғ… I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I’ᴅ ғɪɴᴅ.

I ᴅᴇʟɪʙᴇʀᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ, ғᴏᴄᴜsɪɴɢ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀsᴋ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅ. Wʜʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ I ᴘᴏᴋᴇ ᴀ sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀsᴛ?

I ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀʟғᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴘᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴜᴘ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛs ғʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀᴇᴅ. I ɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀɴᴅᴇʟɪᴇʀ, ᴀ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴄʜɪʟʟ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴍʏ sᴘɪɴᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʜᴀᴍᴍᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴇsᴛ. I ғᴇʟᴛ ғᴏᴏʟɪsʜ. I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ’ᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ I ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ I ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ.

I ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. I ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʜɪᴍ.

Tʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴘᴜᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ. Dᴀʀᴋɴᴇss ᴅᴇsᴄᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ, ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ sᴜғғᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀs ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ɪᴛsᴇʟғ ᴡᴀs ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʜɪs ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ. Eᴀᴄʜ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ɢʀᴇᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴠɪᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ. A ғᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴀs ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ, ғʟᴏᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴍʏ ғᴀᴄᴇ. Tʜᴇɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. Aɴᴅ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

Mʏ ᴘᴜʟsᴇ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ. Tʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ғʀɪɢɪᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋᴇɴɪɴɢ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs, ᴄʀɪᴍsᴏɴ ᴇʏᴇs ʙʟᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ, sᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋɴᴇss ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇᴍʙᴇʀs.

“Y/N,” ᴀ ʟᴏᴡ, ᴍᴇɴᴀᴄɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴡʟ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴜɴᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴀʙʟᴇ.

Mʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴄᴇ. Tʜᴇ ғᴇᴀʀ I ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ sᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀʏ sᴜʀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪxᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs—ᴀ ᴘᴜʟʟ, sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴsᴛɪɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ғᴜʟʟʏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ. I ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴇʟ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ, ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜsʜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ—ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴛʀᴇᴍʙʟɪɴɢ, ᴍʏ ᴘᴜʟsᴇ ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄ. Tʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɪᴅ ᴋɪᴛ sʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ɢʀᴀsᴘ, ʜɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴏʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sʜᴀʀᴘ ᴄʟᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ.

Hᴇ sᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴅ; ᴛᴀʟʟ, ᴍᴇɴᴀᴄɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢʟʏ ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜs, ʜɪs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴅᴀᴛᴏʀʏ. Mʏ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ᴏғ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss, ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ʜɪs. Hɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴇᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴇɴsɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴇʏᴇs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍᴇ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀᴇᴅ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴘʀᴇʏ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀᴡs ᴏғ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀsᴛ. Hɪs ᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ, sᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ʟᴜɴɢs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀssɪɴɢ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ғʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ғᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ.

I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀɪɴᴛ ᴛᴇɴᴅʀɪʟs ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴇᴠᴏʟ ᴄᴏɪʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ, ᴄʀɪᴍsᴏɴ sᴡɪʀʟs ғʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs. Tʜᴇʏ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜɪᴍ, ᴘᴜʟsɪɴɢ ᴀs ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʏ, ᴛᴏᴏ, ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ. Hᴜɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛɪᴏɴ. Fᴏʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ.

“Yᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ?” Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀs ʟᴏᴡ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ʀᴇsᴛʀᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ғᴜʀʏ.

Hᴇ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴀ sɪɴɢʟᴇ sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜsᴄʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛᴇɴsᴇᴅ. Mʏ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴏʀ ғʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴsᴛɪɴᴄᴛ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ, ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʏᴢᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍ—ʜɪs ʀᴀɢᴇ, ʜɪs ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇɴᴇss, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ, ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʜᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀʙᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ.

I sᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴅ, ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs sᴄᴀᴛᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴏs ᴏ�� ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʀʀᴇᴅ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ. Hɪs ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴜғғᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ. Fᴇᴀʀ, ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜs sᴡɪʀʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴғʟɪᴄᴛɪɴɢ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs.

“Yᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ,” ʜᴇ ᴍᴜʀᴍᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇ sᴛʀᴏᴅᴇ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ, ʜɪs ᴛᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢʟʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʜɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ. Hɪs ᴇʏᴇs ᴡᴇʀᴇ sʜᴀʀᴘ, ᴡɪʟᴅ. “Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜɪᴅᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs ᴇᴠᴇɴ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ғɪɴᴅ.”

Iɴ ᴀ ғʟᴀsʜ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɪɴ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ, ʜɪs ʜᴀɴᴅ ɢʀɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴄʜɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄᴇ. Hɪs ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ sᴋɪᴍᴍᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀɴᴇss, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇɴᴇss ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴇɴᴛ sʜɪᴠᴇʀs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴍʏ sᴘɪɴᴇ. I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜɪᴍᴘᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘs, ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴘʀɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀs ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs.

“Sʏʟᴜs, I—”

I ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴛɪɢʜᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴄʜɪɴ, sɪʟᴇɴᴄɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ. Hɪs ᴇʏᴇs ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ, ʟɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғᴇᴇʟ ʜɪs ʀᴀɢᴇ sᴡᴇʟʟ, ғᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғғ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ғᴜᴇʟ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ғɪʀᴇ.

“I ᴡᴀs ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴍʏ ᴋɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ɢᴏᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ.” Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍᴏᴜs ɢʀᴏᴡʟ. “Sᴇᴇᴍs sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs.”

Hɪs ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴡᴀs ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ ᴀs ʜᴇ ʟᴇᴀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ, ʜɪs ᴄʀɪᴍsᴏɴ ᴇʏᴇs ʙʟᴀᴢɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜɴʙʀɪᴅʟᴇᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. Tʜɪs ᴡᴀsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Sʏʟᴜs I ᴡᴀs ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ. Hᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏsᴇᴅ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ—ɢʀᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴜɴʙᴇᴀʀᴀʙʟʏ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ. Bᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋɪɴɢ. Yᴇs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇs I ʜᴀᴅ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ғᴀʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ʟᴇᴀsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜɪᴍ.

“Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ? Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I’ᴠᴇ ᴇɴsɴᴀʀᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ?” Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜʀʏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜᴛ ʙʏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs—ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. 

“Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ.”

Hɪs ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs, sᴛʀ��ᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏʀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴍᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ғᴇʟᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄɪɴɢ. Hᴇ ʜᴀᴅ sᴀɪᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴀs ʜɪs, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? Oᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ. Iᴛ ғᴇʟᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇғɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀsʜɪᴘ—ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀɴ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀʟʟɪᴇs. Aɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜɪs sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ, ɪɴᴇxᴘʟɪᴄᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ.

Dᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʀsʜɴᴇss ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɴsɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟsᴇ ʟᴜʀᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ. Sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ɢʀᴀsᴘ. I ғᴇʟᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ I ᴡᴀs ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏғ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴜs ʜᴀᴅ ғᴜʟʟʏ ᴜɴʀᴀᴠᴇʟᴇᴅ. Hɪs ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ—ᴛʜɪs ᴄᴏɴsᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴄʟᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴀs ʜɪs—ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀʏ. I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴡʜʏ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴜʟʟ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜs.

Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴠᴏʟ-ʟɪɴᴋs, sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ. Iᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴡ ᴜs ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴇʟᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴅᴅᴇɴɪɴɢ. Mᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ I ғᴇʟᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀʟᴇss ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ɪᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴇғɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs.

As ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʀ, ʜɪs ʜᴀɴᴅ sʟɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ, I ғᴇʟᴛ ʜɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴅɪɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ, ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ. Hɪs ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀʀᴍ sɴᴀᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀɪsᴛ, ᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴍʏ ʀɪʙs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ᴀ sʜᴀʀᴘ ᴊᴏʟᴛ ᴏғ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴇ. I ɢᴀsᴘᴇᴅ, ᴀ ᴄʀʏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘɪɴɢ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴛᴏᴘ ɪᴛ.

Sʏʟᴜs ғʀᴏᴢᴇ, ʜɪs ᴇʏᴇs ᴡɪᴅᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇʏ ғʟɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ʙᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ’s ᴜɴɪғᴏʀᴍ. Hᴇ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇs ᴀʟʟ ᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ʜɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴍɪx ᴏғ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ.

"Tᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴏғғ. Nᴏᴡ." Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ, ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴʏɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ. 

Tʀᴇᴍʙʟɪɴɢ, I ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀɴᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴇxᴄʀᴜᴄɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀs I ᴘᴀɪɴsᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢʟʏ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇs. Mʏ sᴋɪɴ ғʟᴜsʜᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʜɪs ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ sᴄʀᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ғᴇʟʟ ᴀᴡᴀʏ, ʜɪs ᴇʏᴇs ʀᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ, ʜɪs ᴇxᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ᴜɴʀᴇᴀᴅᴀʙʟᴇ.

“Cᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ. Lᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ.”

Mʏ ᴋɴᴇᴇs ᴡᴏʙʙʟᴇᴅ ᴀs I sᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ, ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ. Hɪs ʜᴀɴᴅs—ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇғᴜʟ ɴᴏᴡ—ɢʀᴀsᴘᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ʜɪᴘs, ʜɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ʙʀᴜsʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ. Gʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇ ʙᴏᴜǫᴜᴇᴛs ᴏғ ʙʟᴜᴇ, ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʙʟᴏᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴍʏ ʀɪʙs, ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇs ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴛʜɪɢʜs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟᴠᴇs. A ғᴇᴡ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀsʜᴇs ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀs ʙᴀᴅ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀsʜ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ.

I ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɴ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ Wᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜɪɴs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴜʙʙʟᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sʟᴀᴍᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ɪᴛ.

Sʏʟᴜs ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ɢʀᴀsᴘ, ʜɪs ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ᴄᴀʟᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ɪɴsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ. Hɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴛʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛʟɪɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ, sᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴜɴᴛᴀʀʏ sʜɪᴠᴇʀs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴇ. Hɪs ʟɪᴘs ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ɢʀɪᴍ ᴇxᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ, ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴍᴜsᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜʀʏ.

"Yᴏᴜ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴇʀs, ᴋɪᴛᴛᴇɴ."

"I'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ," I ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴏᴀᴋ, ᴍʏ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴀʀsᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴍʙʟɪɴɢ. Gᴏᴏsᴇʙᴜᴍᴘs ʀᴏsᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ ᴀs ʜɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀᴛɪᴘs ɢʜᴏsᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇs. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴀs ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ sᴀᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ. Hɪs ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪɢʜᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴ, ʜᴇ ʏᴀɴᴋᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. I ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ʜᴇ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ ғʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ, ʜɪs ʟᴀʀɢᴇʀ ғʀᴀᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ, ᴘɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ.

Hᴇ ʟᴇᴀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ, ʜɪs ʟɪᴘs ʜᴏᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜsʟʏ ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ɴᴇᴄᴋ. “Yᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜʟᴇss ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ,” ʜᴇ sᴀɪᴅ, ʜɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴘᴀʟᴘᴀʙʟᴇ. I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ sᴇᴇ ʜɪs ᴇxᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɴsɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs ʀᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴜɴᴅᴇɴɪᴀʙʟᴇ, ʀᴀᴅɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜɪᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴀɴɢɪʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ. I ᴡᴀs ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʏᴢᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴀʀ, ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛᴇʀʀɪғɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏʀ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ. Hɪs ᴜɴᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴡᴀs ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴋɴᴇᴡ I sᴛᴏᴏᴅ ɴᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴘᴏᴡᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ I ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ.

“Aɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ.” Hɪs ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ, ɢʟɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜɪs ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴄᴜʀʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ, ʜɪs ɢʀɪᴘ ғɪʀᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜғғᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ. “Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ,” ʜᴇ ʜɪssᴇᴅ, ʜɪs ʟɪᴘs ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴇᴀʀ. “Aᴡᴀʏ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ. Bᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ.” Hɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀ, ᴀ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ᴛᴇʀʀɪғʏɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ. “Tʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.”

Hɪs ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴡᴀs ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴍʏ sᴋɪɴ, ʜɪs ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ʙᴏᴛʜ sᴜғғᴏᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍɪɴɢ. Tʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀs sʜᴀʀᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴʏɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴀs ʜɪs ɢʀɪᴘ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜʟʟ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs ᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇғɪᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴍʏ ᴀʙsᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʜᴀᴅ sᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ sᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜɪᴍ—ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ.

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz 💖

me impatiently waiting for tuesday to share a snippet bc im obsessed with bucktommy rn and after some editing im loving everything i've written in this fic so far and wanna share every word of it asap lmao

here's a bit more, and yes they are talking about the evan thing bc at first it bothered me so much, but it grew on me (with fics and some takes on it i saw and just the more i saw it and thought about it) and now im kinda loving it lol

prev snippet

___

“If you wanted me out of my shirt, you should’ve just said so.” he murmurs.

“I want you out of your shirt.” Buck says without hesitation, and Tommy releases a breathless, surprised laugh.

“Suddenly so forward.” he shakes his head, capturing Buck’s lips again. Well, Buck has been kind of shy and flustered with Tommy, but that’s not always how he is, not how he used to be.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Buck grins, and then, still a little hesitantly, places his palm over Tommy’s thigh where it rests over Buck’s knee. Tommy looks at him curiously, and Buck’s grin widens as he pulls his leg up and over his lap, getting Tommy to properly straddle him now, his shirt falling over his back again, as he releases a surprised gasp. “Now that’s better.” he adds, getting used to the unfamiliar weight, Tommy being bigger and heavier than Buck’s used to with his previous partners, obviously, but it- it feels good, right, almost comforting, Tommy’s steady and firm presence surrounding him now. Plus, it is kinda hot, too.

“Evan.” Tommy just says breathlessly, and Buck’s smile softens, one of his hands moving to the side of Tommy’s neck, just resting there.

“You know you’re one of the very few people who call me that?” he whispers, the mood shifting a bit from hot and impatient to soft and warm, and pleasant, and Buck really feels so comfortable with Tommy.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Tommy replies, settling more comfortably, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck loosely, but his hands play with Buck’s hair lightly. He sits far enough on Buck’s lap that their crotches don’t touch, and Buck’s not sure if he’s happy about that. “Does it bother you?” he asks with a hint of worry.

“No, no, of course not.” Buck rushes to say. If it did, he’d say something. No, it doesn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. “I actually-” he can’t help a small awed smile. “I think I like it.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Tommy tilts his head curiously, and he’s so cute, and Buck needs to kiss him. So he does. Because he can. And he can’t stop smiling.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus

[slasherscream]

also... bringing in the new year with good information... i have OFFICIALLY left my abusive boyfriend!

[whatlovelybones-if]

Hi! I hope this isn't a stupid question but how will mc hide the bodies? Won't the general public be too suspicious if it ends up in a particular area or if there's a bunch of bodies turning out in random places? Also what happened to the girl in the prologue and chapter one, what did mc do with her and the officer?

a lot of questions there, dear bonnie, but i’ll try to answer them satisfactorily.

MC has a kiln in their basement which connects directly to the chimney system in their manor. it blends in nicely there and doesn’t catch too much attention but it’s big enough to fit several bodies in it at once. since the manor is also located in a more remote location and conveniently surrounded by the woods, it’s very unlikely that they have many visitors and they can go ahead with their thrillingly morbid business with ease.

since most bodies will be burnt to ashes and further turned into ceramics or dumped in a river nearby, it’s next to impossible for those ones to be found. however, in the event that MC does, let’s say, starts mailing body parts for shits and giggles to members of the group they’re targetting, it’s a possibility that the killer will be dancing along the lines of almost being caught since post-mortem may reveal something evidential to the investigation, e.g. skin underneath nails, hair samples, fingerprints, and so on.

both the woman and the police officer’s bodies were burned to ashes. while the woman’s ashes were thrown into the nearby river, officer wilson’s ashes were fashioned into some kind of ceramic. i can’t tell you any further information on that since it’s gonna be spoilers but you will be meeting the other ROs soon, and i’m particularly excited about MC and the detective meeting 🤭

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Blorbo from my academic correspondence

[edens-pen]

edennn

lmfaooooo. i’m sorry !! i disappear every four business days :( good morning !!

[jimmyjrsmusoems]

me reading my own wip as if someone else wrote it and it’s my first time experiencing it

[bunny-lily]

My darling, about this post, you should just brag about what you have created so far just because your writing is wonderful.

Sweetheart, oh my gosh ♥♥ you've got my blushing and tucking my hair behind my ear omg, the feeling is absolutely mutual!

Alright, if you insist!~

Tether Me (here on Tumblr and Ao3) is the first multichapter work I've ever actually finished as a whole. I've got so many WIPs, and can lose interest/motivation quickly and easily, so I'm honestly so proud of myself for being able to finish it at all. It's 92k words of my pure heart and soul I poured into it. I really just went off with the symbolism, metaphors, and visualizations of it.

Fun fact, it was inspired by literally one scene from the genshin lunar festival event earlier this year

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending was the first fic I posted! It's originally a gift for @bunny584, just something fluffy and wholesome with pianist!Satoru ♥ I've actually gone through and edited it a bit to polish it up! I managed to write that in the span of...overnight lmao, from midnight to about 6 am roughly

Satoru, who... is also something just fluffy and wholesome. I had this one tiny idea of "Satoru, who is just so smitten with you" and it kinda spiraled out from there. Also, the amount of notes I got on it over the span of like 2 - 3 days really blew me out of the water, did not expect to wake up and check my tumblr just to see 200+ notifications, oops.

Thank you for encouraging me to ramble a bit about my lil babies <3 I've got a bunch of ideas in the works, and even looking back at the work I've already posted, I can see that I'm improving by the day.

Proud of myself :)

(P.S. I'm stealing that Sugu pic oh my god my heart, I'm in love ♥♥)

[according2thelore]

What's your favourite headcanon of something that happened in the Impala?

omg anon

it depends on what you mean here...

my favourite regular headcanon? hunts are brutal, and hard, and kids are okay if you train them, but you've still got a thirteen year old with a shotgun and your life in his hands. a child is a child, even if you fill him with piss and vinegar and whisky and shake him like a snow globe. shit hits the wall. it goes bad. john gets fucked up on a hunt, and they have to stay in the car overnight because thirteen-year-old dean can't walk up to the front desk of a motel and ask for a room. sam and dean sleep in the backseat, curled together, and sam's crying because dad's blood is all over dean's hands and dean's stitches are sloppy-bad on dad's shoulder, keeping his neck together. dad's breathing is wheezy and quiet in the front seat and he pretended to fall asleep an hour ago, but everyone's awake. dean keeps whispering in sam's hair dad's okay, he's going to be okay, he's fine sammy, promise, but dean is fucking shaking because it's his fault and it's cold and he might wake up with a dead father in the front seat and a nine-year-old boy in his arms and no way to fix any of it.

my favourite wild-card headcanon? they hook with other people in the impala. a lot. leave the windows up, doors closed, so that the other can smell it as soon as they get in. let it sit. the first time it happens, dean's seventeen and he picks sam up at school after and sam's whole body goes rigid w the betrayal of it--kinda like someone else having sex in your bed. it's a competition after stanford--pre any kind of wincest, just a pavlovian fucked-up dare, almost, and the first person to roll down the windows and get the smell of your brother's come out of your nose is a loser.

-lizzy

[kimjunnoodle]

i think the manliest thing you can do is wear a pleated skirt and thigh high socks

[pastelpousay]

Hi guys I think I’m gonna be taking a mini break again just a small one

Ik I said last time I needed to take one to write my fic and took a 1 day off 💀 and then basically spam posted but yea I’ll still post the art I’ve made today and this week, my other writing projects and requests will be on hold yes I still do take them I’ve just been a bit Hadina obsessed as of late (like the last 7-8 months 💀😭)

But I’m taking a small break i give myself 3 days off tumblr because I’ve been feeling like I’m becoming a bit obsessed with interactions and stuff on here and it’s been making me feel like shit💀. So for rn I’ll be working on Hadina story I’m really passionate about it and I feel like if I take the time I have left of the summer and relax and work on something I’m passionate about I won’t be so worried about how many people like the stuff on here. Don’t get me wrong ever since posting my art on here I’ve improved greatly and I’ll continue to create I just have a lot more I need to focus on so that I don’t like loose my mind 😭.

Also thank you to everyone that has been like and reblogging my posts, and also to those who’ve made art of Rina or Hadina or anything like that it truly means so much to me. I never thought that me just being a little weirdo online would lead to me getting fanart and stuff like guys I’m gonna cry 😭💗💗💗 THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME IT MEANS SO SO MUCH I LOVE YOU ALL 💗I WANT YOU TO KNOW EVERY POSITIVE MESSAGE OR NOTE YOU HAVE LEFT ME HAS AN IMPACT AND I WILL REMEMBER THAT I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT TRULY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DEALING WITH MY BS

[doctorwhoisadhd]

jordan from scrubs is like The fictional woman to me

literally the single most divorced woman of all time

in a loving relationship with her ex husband

one time they find out their divorce never went through and their relationship falls apart until they can get divorced again

her mother has a restraining order on him (hes a very accomplished doctor. what he did for this to be the case is never explained to my knowledge)

regularly fucks other guys and he doesnt give a shit

seduces men to get what she wants

starts drama on purpose for funsies

loves plastic surgery

hates kids other than her own but is also genuinely a good mom

does whatever the opposite of baby trapping is to her ex (tells him its not his kid even though it is)

names their kid after his annoying coworker as revenge

sighs dreamily oh jordan woman that you are