#whyyy would you even say that

[corvidaemnit]

sooo we all agree the guide is autistic and ocd and their special interest is witchcraft right

[popstart]

the moment people stop being comically against courtney is the day i stop making fun of them for being weird and wrong. stop being weird about a fictional character in ways that are hilariously stupid and ill stop calling you hilariously stupid

[caffeinatedopossum]

I suffer from feeling unloved despite being surrounded by people who love me loudly and only having been told by one person (internet stranger) that they hate me in the last 3 years

[kelpiemomma]

Someone: horses aren't born mean

Maevus:

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.

[noosesurroundsme]

Why would you say that to me? I swear my family doesn't get it.

[mellowsadistic]

“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.

She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.

"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"

“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”

She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”

“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"

"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."

“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"

“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”

“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.

“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."

“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."

[passiveagreeable]

So the tipping is difficult to say. I think general wisdom says about 1 to 2 bucks per drink, which could be far more than 15% depending on the price of your drink, or it could be about the same. If you’re ordering really expensive or fancy things, then maybe less. So it seems to me that tipping per drink may have the bartender come out ahead. Or it may not, that completely depends on the behavior of the customer.

The transaction fee for paying with card though, that is real and a problem, and definitely one main reason for wanting one transaction.

As far as “closing out manually,” restaurants and bars and other places can have totally different register systems. Newer restaurants and especially places where you order and pay at a counter, like fast food or very casual places, tend to have vastly different systems than a typical sit down restaurant. But in my experience, all transactions were connected to one bill or one table in the computer.

When I’m in Europe, they just bring that nifty portable card reader to the table and type in whatever the quantity of the check is. The payment is not directly connected to the computer system to manages who orders what and where. Generally speaking, in my experience, that’s not possible here. So you have to close each check or table individually and independently from the rest. So that’s, to my knowledge, the meaning of “close out manually.”

I think it was mentioned before, but as far as fraud, because the standard is that they will take the card from you and bring it to the computer to charge you, the blame and responsibility for fraud are different here. If your card is stolen, well they know where it was a who probably touched it. The credit card company is going to investigate if you say there has been fraud on your account, and unless you are found to be like particularly stupid with your card or were in fact aware and/or assisting with the fraud, or you have a history of causing trouble for the credit card company, they are going to cover the fraudulent charges.

Right Americans, I need an explanation. What on Earth are these kids doing wrong? Surely this is normal?

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Drunk intimacy W/ Ateez

This is what I imagine drunk "encounters" with each member would be like, just to clarify I mean drunk and consenting not sloppy wasted, so more so tipsy lol Enjoy.

Warning: Drunk sex, Oral sex (M and F recieving), semi public fingering, cockwarming, may be other stuff lemme know!

Minors dni

Hongjoong:

You and Hongjoong would be leaving the bar from a night of hanging out and drinking with everyone, you both would get in the car and drive to a secluded spot and he would park and you both would push your seats back as far as they could go, then Hongjoong would lift the armrest. No words would be spoken, they didn't have to be said, you would both look at each other and without a word start a very intimate and sloppy make out session. You're all over him like he likes it because when you both have some liquor in your system you joke that he becomes your little slut lol. Teeth scraping, tongues in and out of each other’s mouths, eyes rolled back and lots of lip sucking and biting, the noises alone from the kissing would be considered pornographic. Hongjoong has his hand firmly planted on your ass after he lifted your skin tight dress up to your waist, one of your hands made it inside his baggy pants after you undid his belt, you started to jack him off right there in the front seat. Hongjoong was trying his best to continue kissing you but your grip on his very sensitive dick was making him dizzy, he would stop the kiss to occasionally let out a whimper or a "fuck". His red and flushed face with how needy and fucked out he look was making you crazy, you loved how submissive and horny he got, you decided it was time to make him feel even better. You and him worked together to shimmy his pants down enough for his red and throbbing cock to spring out, you loved teasing and edging him when he was like this, you reached down still pumping his shaft, you stuck your tongue out to make circles on his tip.

"Fuuuck Y/N" Hongjoong said dropping his head onto the headrest, his hand still gripping your ass.

You kissed his tip a few times, "I know it feels so good doesn't it baby?" you said wanting to tease him, your mouth dove down his shaft, bobbing your head up and down, Hongjoong bit his bottom lip as he hissed, his whimpering of pleasure was music to your ears.

"So fuckin' good baby, 'o good." He managed to say between his moaning, your tongue and mouth never stopped, sucking harder while your saliva traveled down his dick and covering his balls, it was a bit sloppy, but he loved it. His hand occasionally leaving your ass to land smacks on it to tell you you were doing a good job.

"Baby, baby I'm g-gonna cum." He stuttered out.

You started to suck him off faster, making sure to make his dick hit the back of your throat, you held him deep in your mouth while his cum shot into your mouth, loud profanities dropped from his lips while he moaned loudly, fuck you loved when he was vocal. You didn't waste a drop and swallowed his entire load making sure to look into his eyes.

"Fuck baby I love you so much." Hongjoong said, you came up not even being able to wipe your mouth before Hongjoong pressed his lips to yours, sloppy kisses being exchanged once again.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out when we get home." He said smiling on your lips and looking into your eyes

You pecked his lips again and looked back at him. "I told you you couldn't handle that last shot."

Seonghwa:

"H-ey we aren't go-gonna make it s-sorry." You said barely being able to get out your sentence while you were on the phone with your friend canceling your group couples hangout.

"Aww whyyy? Hongjoong is going to be pissed he isn't going to have his uno partner Seonghwa here." Hongjoongs girlfriend said over the phone.

"I knoo~ we pregramed tooo~ hard and Hwa is out of it." you said immediately snatching the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker to finish the conversation. Hongjoongs girlfriend went on about all the things they had planned tonight but you couldn't focus anymore. Seonghwa was the reason for that, he had his back against the arm of the couch and his long legs across the couch with you on top of him, your back against his chest, he had both your breast pulled out of your tube top with one of his hands tweaking your nipples. His other hand was busy slowly playing with your clit, he knows you want him to go faster, he knows it you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you but he told you it wasn't a good idea to have those drinks before going out, he told you it would just make you both horny but you didn't care. You thought you could just tease Seonghwa all night for being drunk and horny, but he wasn't letting that happen. He left trails of wet kisses and licks from his long tongue on your neck while you tried fighting off your moans, only letting breathy small ones escape.

"Anyways Y/N girl these guys are driving me crazy I would have loved for you to be here to! You sure you can't at least come?" She said obviously pouting. Seonghwa drug his tongue up to your ear.

"Mm gonna leave me baby? Gonna leave me after making me all hot and bothered?" he said rubbing your clit faster.

"Ooouuu FUCK- oh my g- fuck no, I'm sorry girl I can't he's already making a mess right now." You said still trying to keep a clear mind, you had to bite both your lips.

" 'sure am, making a mess of this wet little pussy." He said in your ear, he put one of his slick covered fingers into your cunt, you gripped his pant leg and threw your head back while you whined between your closed lips. You needed and wanted more but he wanted to edge and tease you, he would leave open mouth kisses on your cheek until he made his way to your mouth to give you a wet french kiss, you could taste the juice and alcohol on his tongue, sweet and bitter citrus, he took the breath out of your lungs, your ears ringing from pleasure, no longer able to even hear your conversation, he removed his hand from your chest and gripped your face so you two could look at each other.

"Hang up and bend over."

Yunho:

One too many bottles of Soju and all Yunho wants to do is eat you out. You both were just casually drinking and one think led to another and next thing you know your shorts and panties were off, you were sitting in the cute recliner you bought for the bed room, your legs were being pinned up but Yunhos large hands and he was face planted in your cunt. It had been an hour or so, at least you assume it has, you were drunk and on the way to your 3rd orgasm, Yunho just wouldn't let up. He just loved the feeling of eating you out, but it was something so satisfying to do it while you both had some drinks. He loved your dramatic gasping and jolts, the way your pussy got wetter and how hard you would grip his hair while you begged and spasmed. He couldn't only use his tongue, no he had to put his entire face in it, he wasn't a man that was afraid to get his face covered in the line of duty, he wanted you to drench him. He loved to sweet taste of your cunt as well, since you were drunk you were more sensitive, and it was easy to make you really wet. He would occasionally glance up at you to see your eyes rolled back and your mouth wide open, hearing you yell his name or say things like "fuck Yunho, I can't take it." just encouraged him to fuck you with his mouth more. He knew to make you extra crazy he would put on of your legs on the arm of the chair or let you hold it up while he fucked two of his long finger into you while he sucked your clit like a lollipop. You would gasp for him to stop while your thighs would try to close and you try pushing his head away but he's stronger than you, he wouldn't let you run, you had to sit there and fucking take it. You would covered his face in your slick once again, you were out of breath and fucked out, he would get up and go to the bathroom to wash his face and come back with the warmest smile.

"Well now that I've ate you wanna order some food?"

Yeosang:

Everyone was at Hongjoong, Jongho and Wooyoungs apartment, drinking eating, playing games and now singing drunk karaoke, everyone was either passed out or singing. You and Yeo on the other hand, well you two were sitting at the table watching everyone while he plunged his two fingers deep into your wet pussy, it was something about all the liquor in your system that made you want your boyfriend more and more. He originally was sitting at the table alone but as the night progressed and you got drunker you started to watch his arms flexing in his in short sleeve and it was something so sexy about how well he could handle his liquor. You got up to sit next to him nuzzling nice and close, then the closer you would get the more you smelled his cologne and watching his face and just the sight of him was enough to make your leg bounce to create some kind of friction to help soothe the burning between your legs, you hug his arm while you tried to calm yourself but breathy noises escaped your lips.

"You okay Y/N?" he would ask

"Need you...so bad Yeo." would be the only thing you could say, he understood what needed to be done, when you're this needy you needed immediate attention, so he got to work.

Now here you were with his fingers nice and deep in you, he would make the "Come here" motion so he could hit your spot occasionally, he didn't want you to get to loud but luckily the music and over all commotion drowned out your whimpering. It was a horrible time to do this but the thought of everyone seeing you so fucked out and needy for him kind of turned him on, so he has no problem helping his baby out. Though he himself isn't a lightweight when it came to drinking since he mastered the skill of not acting drunk while drunk, he couldn't deny that drinking did make him a bit hornier, especially after losing all those games and having to take straight shots with no chaser. You squeezed his arm tighter, closed your eyes and bit your lip, all signs that you were close to your high, Yeosang sped up his pace, it was dangerous since the table shook but honestly, he only cared about making you cum for him. You saw stars as you finished on his two digits, he pulled them from your jeans and into his mouth so he could taste your slick, you dropped your head on his shoulders and rolled your eyes back while the group called you and Yeosang up to pick the next song.

San:

Poor Sannie just can't handle his liquor, you two get home from hanging out and San would just strip naked and get under the covers then whine until you finally came in the bed room to shut the lights off and get in bed with him.

"Mmm baby, too hot, no clothes." San groaned while tugging at your clothes, you rolled your eyes and took off your pajamas to accommodate San. He cuddled you closely, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezing your waist, though you wanted to go to sleep you couldn't help but feel something on your ass.

"Sannie... are you?"

"Just ignore it baby." he said, but with Sans length how could you possibly ignore something like that pressing into you.

"Do you want to have sex baby?" You asked, it's not like you could sleep, it felt like you were laying on water since you were still pretty tipsy.

"Don't feel like it." He mumbled out.

"Wanna cockwarm then?" you asked, trying to help him relieve his throbbing dick.

"...only if you don't mind." He said, he didn't want you to feel pressured, you nodded your head to give him the approval, he lined himself up with your entrance and was able to easily slide in since you were still wet from when he pulled you to the bathroom to fuck you while you were out. "Fuck baby you're so tight you feel so good." he said squeezing you tighter, he couldn't help but roll his hips a few times just to enjoy your heat.

"Does that feel better Sannie, you just wanted me to hold your dick baby." you said reaching back to scratch his scalp.

"You're too good to me baby." He said, he kissed your lips a few times then snuggled back into you, you two eventually drifted off to sleep just for him to wake up early that morning to fuck you senseless.

Mingi:

He decided to come home to your apartment instead of going home because he didn't want anyone seeing how affectionate he is when he is drunk, just a big cuddly baby. He would hold you while you're unlocking the door and kiss you when you're changing then when he can't take it anymore, he would pull you into his lap while he is seated on the bed. He wouldn't even change your clothes he would just pull your sleeping shorts to the side and take out his length while you two were kissing and ease you down his dick. Drunk sex with Mingi is nice and slow and sensual, it's not about cumming it's about feeling you wrapped around him, it's about him touching every inch of your body with his hands and lips, Mingi is a drunk love maker. You would rock slowly on his length while cupping his face and continuing to make out, his large hands wrapped around your waist squeezing you tightly so you couldn't move or run.

"I love you so much baby." he would whisper between kisses.

"I love you more Mingi." you would say back, giving him reassurance that you feel loved, and you love him just as much, he is a Leo, so he needs it.

His phone would ring, calls from the guys to make sure you two made it home safely, every time you advised him to answer he would say "You're the only person I care about right now." While he continued to roll his hips deeper into you.

After a while of slow sex, you were about to cum, and he notices that, he rubbed your back and kissed you deeply while you cover his cock in your juices. He knows you get sleepy so he stops and cleans you both up then puts you both to bed, you would tell him to keep going so he could cum to but again he wasn't doing it for a release he just wants to feel you.

Wooyoung:

As soon as you walk through the door together he is trying to bend you over and fuck your brains out, you were in the middle of taking your shoes off (literally one is off one is on) and he is pressing you against the wall lifting up your skirt while kissing your neck.

"Wait Woo we should mm" he cuts you off by kissing you, you wouldn't even be able to talk in complete sentences. "We should-" kiss "at least go t-" kiss "to the be-" kiss "the bed Woo let's" kiss.

"I need to fuck you right now, right here, this has been on my mind all night." would be the last thing he says before he gets on one knee to eat you out from the back, your hand reaching back to grip his black hair while your eyes roll back and your mouth is gasping.

"Oh, my fucking god it feels amazing Woo fuck!" When you and Wooyoung get drunk the dirty talk is amazing, it's truly part of the experience.

"Such a dirty little mouth for a dirty little slut, watch your fucking mouth." He says before striking your ass.

"Ow! Fuck you!" you say before he strikes you again then rises from eating you out.

"Oh, fuck me ?" He says while yanking you to face him and pressing you against the wall.

"Yes, fuck you!" you argue back while he pulls your skirt down and lifts your leg to hold it at his waist, his member already pulled out since he was jerking off while eating you out.

"Oh really?" he got closer to your face, your lips seconds from connecting.

"Yes really."

"Say it again." He says as he sinks himself into your pussy, you bit your lips while your head drops back on the wall.

"Nghh fuck!" You say, he starts to fuck you faster, pulling your leg so he can hit nice and deep in you.

"That's not what you said, say what you said again baby." Wooyoung would say to taunt you, he knew you were too fucked out to even think, liquor makes him a horny little meanie. He would sit there and fuck you in the doorway then when he finished he would have you suck his dick in the hall way to "Clean up the mess you made on his cock", then he would fuck you again on the bed to "make sure you dream of him."

Jongho:

He is like a well-oiled machine, both just came back from a company dinner and all he wants to do is keep fucking you and fucking you and fucking you. His hips never stop pounding into you and when you would slump over he would laugh at you with that toothy smile and say "Aww are you really tired already, did I go too far?" he tried to make it seem like he was being genuine and checking on you but you knew he wasn't, he was mocking you and you were a prideful drunk so you two would be going until one of you tapped out.

He would drill you from the back in collapsed doggy because your legs just couldn't hold you anymore, the loud clapping noises filling the room while his hands tightly gripped your hips so you couldn't run, you had to take his thrust full on. You could barely even think anymore, your swollen pussy and fucked out brain was no match for Jongho. Usually, his libido isn't that high, and sex was good but after cumming twice he would be tapped but when he is drunk all bets are off, he has the stamina of a race horse and fucked like one too. He would love just watching you try your best to keep up with him, he got a good laugh out of how surprised you would get every time. He knew your body would be tired so he used his strength to flip, bend and twist you in any way he wanted, you became his little fuck toy and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't the sexiest thing in the world, though he would be demolishing your pussy he always checked on you and made sure you drank water throughout the process, you're favorite part was the praise he gives you for not tapping out.

"My good little baby, taking me so well, aren't you?" he would ask, your invisible dog tail would wag while you arched your back to take more of him. Though you wouldn't tap out he knew not to push you too much and you eventually clean you both up and cuddle into bed while you talked shit.

"See I told you you would tap first!" you would taunt.

"Mhm you sure did, I can't keep up with you Y/N" he would patronize you.

"Nope! Now to enjoy my victory cuddles and sleep."

He cuddles into you and kisses your forehead. "Good night, Y/N"

[phas3d]

Slytherin boys as gamer bfs and what games they would play with their significant other?

Gamers >:) | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: cock fighting, animal cruelty, gambling, threats (these are all for fucking tom bc ofc it is...) - suicide joke (mattheo)

contains :: draco, tom. mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: im ngl idk half of these games in depth - i just heard and seen the sterotypes of these games - fps = first person shooter, dbh = detroit become human, abg = asian baby girl, bow = breathe of the wild ||

DRACO MALFOY sims 4 / roblox

This man sucks ass at gaming, he literally can't do it

His aim is shit, he screams when he's in a fight, and he rage quits the second he loses

So he has to stick to girly games

He has so many mods and cc for sims that it's insane

His pc runs like it's on life support because of this, pls save that poor computer

And he likes playing roblox too sometimes

But he doesn't even play the normal games

Bro plays Dress To Impress and Maple Hospital...

Like what the fuck are you doing there??? Go on BloxFruits or smth man

What's even worse is he eats EVERYONEEE up in Dress to Impress, he literally always top 3

And when he isn't top 3, he curses and swears but it doesn't go through cause tags

He literally cannot do obbys either oh my fucking god

You know that one meme of Sadness from Inside Out dropping her popcorn and someone quote-tweets it saying, "Damn she can't do anything"

That's exactly who Draco is when it comes to gaming

TOM RIDDLE dark web gambling / elden ring

Oh my fucking God this guy can't have a normal hobby ever

He doesn't game at all,,, literally just gambling bruh

He hosts illegal gambling rings online and even host some in the school basement

One time he even hosted an illegal cock ring fight...

Yes,,, he stole the chickens from Hagrid and made them fight....

He even used magic to give them powers like pokemon....

He made a fucking WATER chicken and FIRE chicken fight

Thank god he didn't actually let them kill each other, he just did it until one was near death

But back to gambling - he also manipulates people in so many ways

He casts a spell that silently chants "go all in, go all in" so it subconsciously makes people bet more

Bro even gets some students in DEBT!?!?! Like how tf did you do that and WHYYY would you do that

If someone doesn't come down to the basement in a while to gamble,,, then Tom will fix that

Besides illegal gamlbing...

He plays Elden Ring, which is pretty normal

Besides the fact that he BEAT THAT SHIT IN LIKE 2 DAYS?!!??!!?

Normally streamers, pro gamers, they all take weeks and sometimes even months just to make progress

But Tom is just,,, just better ig?

So yeah... He sticks to gambling cause every other game is just too easy for him

MATTHEO RIDDLE gta V / fortnite / rocket league / nba 2k24

God this guy is the worst sterotypical middle school boy ever

He even had the ugly ass big blue headset with the shit mic on it

Plays GTA V every now and then, only when he's angry

That's when he goes around town and just beats the shit out of everyone

Likes playing Fortnite for hours on end with his friends, mostly Theo and Lorenzo cause they can actually keep up with him (Draco is ass at FPS and

Plays rocket league and NBA 2k24 because of fucking course he does - look at him....

He's just a boy....

A really toxic one.....

Definitely screams "KILL YOURSELFFFFF!!!!!!" if he loses and honestly he's kinda real for that

THEODORE NOTT god of war / detroit become human

Loves games that have a long story

It's a good mix of story and fighting, he can't really get into pure FPS games

Have done most routes in DBH and even found easter eggs and hacks

Tries to get you into the lore as well but sometimes it goes so deep you get confused

"NO!!! Connor in route 8 is actually a pretty neutral guy and he's-"

Like bro what??? Why do you know everything about this "Connor" guy??? smh

He dabbles in some FPS sometimes, like playing Fortnite with Matt and Enzo

And he actually REALLY good

Has great aim and precision

But he just can't get into it for some reason, it's not his type

LORENZO BERKSHIRE valorant / zelda breath of the wild

I feel like Enzo playing Valorant makes so so sooo much sense

He's not AS toxic as the other guys, but he's still weird and fuck-boy-ish in his own way

Definitely plays with e-girls and tries to bag an ABG

But he gets catfished....

He's pretty good at Valorant, surprisingly

His mic stays on for every single game... Even if no one else is talking

This man will talk to a fucking wall and still be yapping

"Okay guys way I need to pee" ...

There's only bots in his server.........

He also loves RPG games and stuff like that

So BOW is perfect for him to shut off his mind and just roam and do useless tasks

[cindol]

thinking of a sukuna and uraume threesome ♡

ryomen sukuna x black fem reader x uraume

cw— non curse modern au, sukuna is like rich and uraume is kinda his assistant, sharing, pussy eating, voyeurism(on both sukuna and uraume’s parts), reader gives consent,

a/n : uraume is going by they/them because according to resources their gender isn’t ever decide, okay? okay ! this was also suppose to be a drabble but as usual things got out of wack lmao

sukuna barely trust anybody with his wife in a personal way. He doesn’t like if any personal designer of his eyes are wandering too far for his liking. He only trusts a few but that trust never goes far to where he wants them handling your body, uraume is an exception.

uraume knows you and your body well, he knows what makes you tick just as much what makes sukuna tick and knows his limits of how far he should really go when it comes to you. It’s exactly why he trusted your body with uraume when he couldn’t be around due to business overseas.

You couldn’t complain either and could really think sukuna for actually putting his trust into another person besides you to take care of you if that meant mentally and physically.

Uraume was just perfect in their own way with how he took care of your body. He was so soft, always squeezing your soft brown thighs and doing soft kitty licks to your already sopping cunt getting you to drag out moans and tug on his white bob cut of hair moaning out at his tongue attacking your poor sensitive pussy, he wasn’t even eating you like some wild animal yet it still made you cry out little words like,“ume!” and “gonna cum! Your tongue is so Mm-mmph!” but interrupting yourself every time by your own moans anytime you wanna say something.

uraume was such a tease knowing what they were doing to their boss’s wife. For a moment he would take his tongue from out you and ask,”would was that? Got something to say ma’am?” and when you were going to speak they sharply thrusted their tongue right back into your cunt to make you cry out.“whyyy that’s so—fuck!— unfair!”

Even when sukuna was here he was still a tease. Sometimes sukuna liked to watch if he came back from a long business trip but another part liked seeing another person he trusted handle his woman turned him on. The thing is too he could control what uraume does to your body too.

If uraume is fucking you fast he could tell uraume to slow down and make them edge themselves and you by inching their dick in slowly in and out. If they’re fucking too slow he makes uraume go fast with them holding both your arms and fuck into you so fast with the rhythm sound of every plap plap of their balls slapping against your ass and squelching sound of your pussy.

[bluemusickid]

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy VI. One Last Time

bfd!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist masterlist

wordcount: 13,941

summary: you find yourself in Joel's arms once more, torn between the love you share and the dreams that pull you apart.

warnings: 18+, age gap, finally finally unprotected p in v, some cute stuff goin on here, uses of the names darlin and babygirl, this involved a lot of me going "ahhhh" and "whyyy" and then "yesss" I didn't leave you with a mean cliffhanger this time.

notes: thank you to everyone for your love on this fic, I truly never thought this would be as loved as it is <3 I can't thank you guys enough for your support and the likes, comments and reblogs. Truly you guys have made this that much more fun to write. AND thank you to everyone who has been so so patient with me as I finished this chapter. I only have one hand to type at the moment so this took 50 years. ty @saradika-graphics as always for the divider

Why don't you stay with me, share all your secrets tonight

We can make believe the morning sun never will rise

Come and lay you're head on this big brass bed. We'll be all right as long as you stay with me

YOU.

The dark sky seems even darker through the tinted windows of the black car that Joel has sent to pick you up. He sounds urgent on the phone; when you tell him that you need to talk, he tells you that you have a lot to discuss, but he doesn't want to talk over the phone.  Eventually, you agree to have his driver pick you up and take you to his penthouse. Secretly, you're glad that he suggested meeting in person. You don't want to go over everything and why you left without saying goodbye, with your two roommates listening to every word of your conversation. Lin acts as though your life is more interesting than all of the reality TV shows she binge-watches every weekend.

The car is just as luxurious as you should have expected after seeing all of the amenities that the Miller family is used to, but you're still surprised at how supple the leather seats are as you slide across them for your long ride across New York. It's nice to spend the drive relaxed and not on the edge of your seat, afraid the cab driver is going to hit a pedestrian trying desperately to cross the street. You remind yourself not to get comfortable with this type of luxury; it's not going to last.

“Is there anything I can do for you to make the drive more comfortable, Miss?" Joel's driver calls back from the front seat.

“No, everything is perfect, thank you," you answer.

“There are snacks and beverages stocked for you if you change your mind."

There's sparkling water in the cupholder next to you, mysteriously maintained at the perfect temperature. You crack the seal and let the bubbles tickle your throat as you watch the skyscrapers pass by your window. You should have guessed that Joel's penthouse would be on the Upper East Side, but you can't help but stare at the buildings and how extravagant everything seems compared to your dumpy little neighborhood. The driver pulls to a stop in front of a tall building and gets out to open your door for you.

The night sky is littered with stars, which are muted by the bright lights of Joel's building. A doorman dressed in a uniform opens the front door for you and escorts you to the elevator, where he presses the button for the penthouse and backs out with a lift of his hat. You ride the elevator in silence, your heart beating increasingly faster as you pass each floor with a ding of the elevator. You can't help but wonder if Joel is angry with you for leaving the Bahamas without so much as a word. You hope it hasn't hurt him, but after your fight with Sarah, you couldn't stay, and you knew that Joel and you could never have a future together, especially when his only daughter hated you. Worst of all was the reason you were at his home in the first place. You couldn't let him risk his reputation for you. That photographer didn't need to have the opportunity to take more pictures of you together. You're convinced you're not worth the risk. The elevator stops at the top floor, and the doors slowly slide open to reveal Joel's front entry, a set of floor-to-ceiling glazed glass doors. You ring the small buzzer, and a few seconds later, Joel's unmistakable form approaches the glass.

“Darlin'," Joel says with a warm smile as he slides the door open to reveal his face.

You're relieved to be greeted so warmly. You had told yourself over and over again on the ride over that you couldn't pursue anything with Joel, but as soon as you see him, you have to fight to suppress your feelings for the man. “Joel, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for sending a car, although you really didn't have to."

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to," Joel says, reaching out his hand to you.

After a slight hesitation, you take it, and he leads you into his penthouse. The interior is decorated in a modern style with sleek lines and crisp edges, giving the entire space a clean and wealthy feel. A large statement dining room table takes up a large portion of the space.

It's glowing from the tiny flames of tealight candles spanning the entire length of the table. The light flickering off all of the surfaces adds a subtle softness to the sharp lines of the room. Joel pulls out a chair for you.

“I don't know if you've eaten, but I had my chef prepare a little something before he left for the night."

“I can always eat," you say with a small smile of thanks before he disappears into the kitchen.

He returns with two artful plates of filet mignon and asparagus spears. He sets a plate in front of you and the other in front of the chair directly across from you. He pours a generous glass of wine for each of you before taking his seat.

“This is absolutely beautiful," you say as you glance around the room.

“It is, isn't it?" Joel says looking around the room, too, before continuing. "Honestly, I tend to forget how nice this place is. Typically, when I'm in New York, I get so wrapped up in work that I forget to enjoy it."

“Well, you should slow down more often," you say, not exactly sure how friendly to be with the man you'd almost slept with and then ghosted.

“Well then, to more happy nights," Joel says, raising his glass to you.

You sigh, not picking up your glass to meet his. “Joel, don't you think we should talk about the photographer? We can't act as if nothing happened."

Joel sighs, too, and sets his glass back down on the table. “I know that we need to talk about what happened. I am sure you have a lot of questions for me. I'm honestly surprised that you even agreed to come here after everything my family and guests put you through. I just wanted to spend some time with you before we had to talk about all of that unpleasantness."

You're shocked that Joel is worried about you not showing up; he always seems so confident and put together. The entire time you had been worried he wouldn't want to see you again when he was worried about the same thing. “I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me again," you admit sheepishly.

“Babygirl, I would have to be crazy not to want to see you again."

Heat bursts into your cheeks, and you're thankful that the light is low enough to hide your blush.

“I have mentally kicked myself every day for not going to you right after I got back from chasing off that photographer. Then, when I woke up the next day, I found out you were gone, and it was too late. After that, I figured you needed some space, understandably. Your vacation was anything but relaxing," Joel says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I should have at least stayed to say goodbye, but at the time, I didn't feel as though I could stay."

“I found out from some of my staff that you and Sarah were heard getting into an argument. No one knew what it was about, and I couldn't get a straightforward answer out of Sarah. What did she say to make you feel like you needed to leave?"

You look down at your plate and take a slow bite, trying to decide just how much of the fight with Sarah you want to disclose to her father. The meat is so tender it feels as though it melts in your mouth; you swallow reluctantly before speaking. “Sarah found out that I was Todd's previous girlfriend. She obviously wasn't happy about it, and things got pretty heated. I didn't want to stay after that."

Joel stares at you as though trying to get you to go into the horrible things his daughter had actually said to you. It's hard for you to understand why you still feel the need to protect Sarah from her own shitty behavior, but you hold your tongue anyway. “I know there is more to it than that."

“None of that matters anymore," you say, looking down at your plate again to avoid his piercing gaze. “We are going in completely different directions in our lives, and I doubt that we will ever cross paths again. We are from completely different worlds."

“You are right," Joel responds, watching you carefully. “You two are completely different. She is turning into everything I hoped she wouldn't, and you, well, you are… real."

The silence between you is only interrupted by the soft clinks of your silverware against your plates.

“I wasn't able to catch up with that photographer," Joel says softly, almost ashamed.

“I know," you respond, finally lifting your eyes to meet his.

“What do you mean?" Joel's eyebrows furrow together, clearly confused by what you are alluding to.

“Right before the flight I was on took off, an unknown number sent me a picture of us in the cove."

Tears start to well up in your eyes. Joel jumps up from his side of the table and is next to you in an instant. He grabs your hands from where they are resting on your lap. Even as upset as you are, the feeling of his hands on yours makes your entire body feel warm.

“Baby, why on earth did you keep this to yourself? If I would have known that he was blackmailing you, I would have had someone standing guard at your apartment day and night."

“I thought that if I disappeared, they would leave you alone, but whoever it was, they found me. That's why I came to find you at your office."

“What do you mean they found you?" Joel asks, concern flooding his eyes.

“Someone followed me back to my apartment. I ran down the street, but they must have noticed where I lived because the next time I opened the door, there was a box waiting for me.

Joel stares at you, absorbing every word you speak.

“The picture was inside of the box with a note that said, 'Tell Joel he is running out of time.' That's when I decided I needed to come and find you. I am so sorry, Joel. I thought this would all just go away if I walked out of your life."

"That son of a bitch," Joel curses, releasing your hands as he stands and strides toward the balcony. Your hands, now devoid of his warmth, feel empty and cold.

"Who?" you inquire as Joel retreats, opening the door to step outside onto the balcony. You rise to your feet, fully intent on following him when he doesn't respond to your question. You make your way out to the balcony slowly, a sense of awe washing over you. You've never been inside a home as luxurious as this one.

The balcony sprawls out before you, offering an incredible view of the New York skyline. The distant buildings cast a glow that lights up the night sky like stars anchored to the earth. It would be breathtaking if not for the tense conversation hanging in the air between you two.

Joel settles onto an outdoor sectional in front of a fire pit nestled within the coffee table. The lavishness of such amenities never fails to astonish you. You take a seat next to him and look at him with expectation in your eyes, but when he still doesn't answer your question, you press further.

"Joel, who is trying so hard to drag you through the mud? Surely, it isn't just about money. If that were the case, they would have sold the photo already, and it would be everywhere by now." You pause for a moment before continuing with conviction in your voice. "I'm sure someone would pay a lot for that picture. This seems much more personal."

"You're right, babygirl," Joel responds with a slight smile playing on his lips as he gazes into the slowly flickering flames before him: "You are very perceptive; you really will make an excellent lawyer." 

Your eyes meet his with determination: "I hope I get to be one," you say thoughtfully before adding with concern. "But I don't know how focused I will be if I am constantly having to watch over my shoulder or fend off journalists curious about our situation." 

Joel sighs at your comment and looks out over the cityscape below—a silent acknowledgment that perhaps you were more direct than he expected. Even though you're not in the public eye like he is, this situation still has the potential to jeopardize your future career.

"I am sorry for dragging you into my messy family drama," Joel finally offers, his eyes softening as he turns to face you.

"Someone in your family is trying to blackmail you? Who would do that?" you ask, your shock evident in the way your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline. You watch as Joel struggles to articulate an explanation.

"I believe I mentioned a bit about my father and our strained relationship while I was growing up," Joel says, his gaze drifting away from you.

"Yes, a little, right after we watched the dolphins," you recall, encouraging him to continue.

"Well, a significant part of our issues was his constant absence. When I was younger, I convinced myself that his work kept him busy, but after his death, I discovered that it was likely due to an affair he was having."

"Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, at a loss for words. The thought of discovering infidelity after already grieving the loss of your parents is unimaginable to you.

Joel continues, "I don't know how long the affair lasted, but at some point, the other woman became pregnant. I found out about Blaine some time ago—my half-brother, the product of my father's long-hidden affair. I don't even know if my father ever met his other son."

Curiosity piqued, you ask, "Have you ever met him?"

"No, I searched for him for years without success. Once I finally located him, I had my security team investigate him. To put it mildly, he's made some very poor life choices. So, I never pursued a meeting with him."

You reach out and take Joel's hand in yours, feeling the tension in his fingers as they intertwine with yours. He looks at your joined hands, seemingly finding it difficult to meet your gaze.

"It wasn't long after he discovered a connection to the Miller family through a DNA match that I started receiving messages demanding money. My father made it clear that Blaine was to inherit nothing. When I didn't respond, he began threatening my family members."

"Oh no," you say, your voice laced with sympathy as you run your thumb lightly over his.

"I had my security team focused on protecting my extended family. I was naive to think he wouldn't have me followed to the Bahamas. My oversight led to us being photographed. Blaine, my delinquent half-brother, must be the one trying to use you to get to me," Joel concludes, his guilt apparent in his eyes.

"Joel, this isn't your fault," you reassure him, squeezing his hand and trying to catch his eye.

"It is my fault. I'm the reason you're being dragged into this blackmail," Joel insists, finally meeting your gaze.

"If it weren't me, it would have been someone else," you counter, trying to alleviate his sense of responsibility.

"Don't you see?" Joel asks, frustration creeping into his tone. "If there had been another woman he could have used against me, he would have. There's never been anyone I cared for enough. I believe Blaine had us watched for quite some time before you left. He must have realized there was something more between us that he could exploit."

"What is between us?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as you grip your hands together tightly in your lap.

Joel hesitates, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He looks at you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. "There's enough between us that I couldn't bear the thought of him hurting you," Joel finally admits, not breaking eye contact.

A pang of disappointment hits you, but you push it aside. "Oh," is all you manage to say, feeling a sense of deflation. You chide yourself for harboring such feelings. You know better than to want him in that way. He's older, and he's the father of your former friend. A relationship between you two could only lead to heartache. Yet, despite all logic, you can't help but yearn for him to feel more for you.

Joel stands with you, gently taking hold of your arms and turning you to face him. He pulls you close, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours as you place your hands on his chest.

"Babygirl, you are... irresistible," Joel confesses, his words sending a jolt through you. "I found myself seeking you out, just to spend a few moments with you. I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn't resist my desire to be near you, to hear your laugh, or to be the reason for the smile on your beautiful lips."

His words ignite a flutter in your chest, and you struggle to steady your breathing, your hands moving up to caress his neck as your fingers thread through his hair.

"And that day I took you to watch the dolphins, I knew all my efforts were in vain. I gave in to my feelings for you, despite knowing it was wrong. I wanted nothing more than to take you right there on the sand of that beach."

Joel's lips graze yours, the proximity of his mouth making it hard to concentrate on anything but the possibility of what might come next.

"I let my guard down because I thought it was safe. Safe for both of us. I liked the man I was when I was alone with you. On the yacht, I was more myself with you than I had been in a really long time. You awakened a desire in me that I didn't know was still there."

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," you whisper, your lips brushing against Joel's, your body instinctively leaning into his.

His urgency matches yours as his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. You explore the contours of his chest and neck with your hands, finally allowing yourself to indulge in the moment. His tongue slips into your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you, prompting him to pull you even closer. After a few intense seconds, you regain your senses and pull back, your breath coming in short gasps as you stare into his face, taking in his handsomeness.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, a frown forming on his lips.

"I'm moving in two days," you say, trying to rationalize your hesitation. "I just don't want to start feeling more for you just to have to leave again."

"I have a home not far from Harvard. I travel constantly all over the world. This isn't really about the distance between us, is it?" Joel challenges gently.

"No," you admit reluctantly.

"Then what is it about?" he asks, moving closer, his gaze locked onto yours.

"It's about how complicated this is, with Sarah and Blaine... it's all just so much," you confess, unable to trust yourself to look at his enticing mouth.

"What if we stopped worrying about how complicated this is and just... gave in?" Joel suggests, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He leans in and kisses you sweetly once more before pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Just for tonight”, you whisper, biting your bottom lip. Sleeping with Joel, even for just one night, is probably a bad decision, but you don't care at the moment. You are so caught up in the emotions he sends spiraling through you that you can't bring yourself to say no. At his touch, your skin is on fire, and the taste of him lingers on your lips even after he pulls away.

It's all the invitation he needs to pick you up and kiss you again and again. He trails a soft touch up your side, and your skin prickles at his wandering hand. He lays you back against the soft cushions, and you catch a brief glimpse of his skin as his shirt billows. You can't help but run your hand up his stomach, feeling each well-defined ripple of muscle. Goosebumps appear in waves along your body as the heat of his chest travels up your arms.

You help him out of his shirt as the firelight sends dancing shadows across his skin. His linen shirt falls to the floor in an unwanted pile. Joel leans down to you and settles his hand upon your cheek. The gesture is adoring, which makes your heart ache with happiness. You have never been looked at the way Joel gazes at you.

"You are so unabashedly beautiful, baby," he says, his eyes narrowing in a hungry gaze that leaves you wanting more. His thumb traces the soft contour of your mouth, melting away your thoughts of anything but him. His deep eyes penetrate your soul, warming you to your core. You have to have him.

You reach for the waist of his jeans, but he stops your hand and grins at you. "Slow down," he says. "If we can only have this one night, I want to remember every second of it. I want to memorize every curve of your body, every sound that crosses your gorgeous lips, every look on your face." If you are only going to allow me one night, I am going to make it count."

His lips meet the nape of your neck, making your entire body shudder. Every kiss and soft touch of his lips along your collarbone has you melting. Joel's hands slide to your waist, and he tugs up the fabric of your shirt. He gently eases the garment over the top of your head. You feel his eyes devour the sight of you in your black lace bralette.

A gust of wind sneaks through the holes of the lace, making your nipples even harder than they already are at the sight of him. Joel's lips trail down your neck and to your breasts, teasing you with his tongue. He kisses along the upper barrier of your bra, leaving you panting and writhing beneath him as you long for him to take your hardened peak between his lips.

Again, you reach for his belt and busy yourself undoing it. Your fingers fumble with the clasp, and he chuckles softly at you, but eventually, it gives way, allowing you to access his top button and zipper. You want to rip the fabric from his body, but you remember that he had told you to move slowly, so you do your best to keep your trembling fingers calm.

The moon continues to rise higher in the sky as you slowly and methodically abandon each piece of Joel's clothing. You are ready to follow his lead, but Joel insists on slowing everything down for you, making your body physically ache with desire for him. He unclips the clasp of your bra and lets it fall to the floor at his feet. His soft kisses trail every part of your chest as he makes his way down to your belly button. Your arousal burns inside of you even as the cool breeze of the evening nips at your naked body. Joel pulls you closer to him. The heat from the fire only warms one side of your bodies.

"Are you cold?" he whispers against your neck, his breath fanning out and warming your flesh.

Shivers continue to move down your naked body in response to him and the breeze, but you do your best to give him a verbal response, even though your ability to speak has evaporated when his lips met your bare skin. You can only manage a slight shake of your head. However, Joel sweeps you into his arms and back into the house. His bare feet are soft on the cold tile of the hallway, and he uses his back to push open a door. You can barely make out his bedroom in the dark, a skylight offering the only light in the room directly over the bed.

The bed is covered in a white goose-down duvet that flutters in response to Joel helping you into the pillows. Then, as the blanket settles around you, he crawls over top of you. You grab the sides of his face and pull him closer to you, your thumbs massaging against his cheekbones.

"I am so lucky to have met you. Taking that trip was the best decision I have ever made," you pant, and you kiss him hard, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, your teeth clamping down on the soft flesh, leaving him leaning into you with want. You can feel his hardness against your thigh, which only serves to spur you on to kiss him deeper. When you release him, he smiles down at you, his eyes glistening in the moonlight.

"I’m the lucky one. I will always be the lucky one." Joel's fingertips brush your cheek as he moves a loose lock of hair away from your face.

He kisses you back and lowers his body to meet yours. You lift yourself up to him, wanting to get as close to him as possible. You need him so badly; the thought of there being any distance between you at all is unimaginable. His need for you is also apparent, and he presses himself closer to you, his hardness poised at your entrance. The heat of your bodies mingles in the warmth of his bed.

You grip the duvet cover in both of your hands, anticipating him pushing inside of you, but he is still gazing down at you, taking his time.

You are unable to fight your longing for him for another second, so you don't. With both hands, you grip his muscular back, spreading your legs wider to welcome him in. His smile shifts to a smirk, and then, he is moving inside of you. Your head tips back, and an ethereal moan leaves your lips as he fills you completely.

Joel takes his time with this as well, creating a smooth, steady rhythm that has you hanging onto him as your only grip left on reality. Your hands trail down to his firm ass, and touching him in such an intimate place sends another shiver of pleasure through your body.

Before long, you feel your body begin to spasm around him, and it is all you can do to keep oxygen in your lungs. Joel's lips are on your neck, and you can feel him increasing his pace to match your moans as you tumble over the edge, crying out his name in a voice you don't even recognize as your own. Joel keeps you at your peak for what seems like an eternity. By the time he tightens up and grunts a few times, filling you with warmth, you can hardly handle the intensity of what he is doing to your body.

After Joel finishes, he doesn't move off of you right away. Instead, he kisses you softly, taking his time, his tongue dancing around yours, as if he were savoring the taste of you. When he finishes, he kisses you a couple of more times, quickly, and then moves so that he is resting next to you.

He pulls you to his chest, cradling your head against him and running his fingers through your hair. You nestle against him, wrapping an arm around his chest. You want to tell him all of the emotions you are feeling in your heart, but you don't dare. You had said just once. How could you lie in his arms and tell him you love him when this wasn't just your first time making love, it was also goodbye? You can't do that to him. So, instead, you lie there in his arms, letting your heavy eyes close, listening to the rhythm of his heart and his breathing, wishing this was just the first time and not the last, but nothing can be done to change your circumstances.

This will have to be the end.

You wake up a few hours later, and Joel is still awake. You know by the look in his eyes that he wants you again. Your instincts say no, you shouldn't do this again, but the fact that you have already made love once, and the night isn't over, spurs you on. Before you can stop yourself, you are mounting him, and with him buried deep within you, you rock your hips, letting that feeling of euphoria wash over you again. You continue for hours until you are both exhausted. 

Finally, you begin to fall back to sleep and settle next to him, but your mind is too busy to let you fall asleep completely. You watch the look in Joel's eyes as he looks over at you. Your breath slowly starts to settle back to an average pace. He stares at you as though he can't look away.

—

The soft glow of early morning dusts the starlit sky. He kisses your lips so softly you aren't sure if it's real or if the entire steamy night has been a dream. He lays his head back on one of the many pillows and closes his eyes. A small hint of a smile still lingers on his lips. Joel wraps a soft blanket around your naked body in a protective way. You melt into his side and can feel his heartbeat. You listen to the steady rhythm of his breaths until they slow. You know he has fallen asleep. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, your mind doesn't want to rest.

Joel has a way about him that makes you feel safe, wanted, and, dare you think it, loved. You haven't felt that way in a long time. This one night with Joel puts three years with Todd to shame. You can't see yourself ever finding any man as wonderful as Joel again. You feel a piece of your heart break, knowing this can't last… that you won't let this last. Knowing that everyone in Joel's life will make sure that you won't even get a chance to try. You don't want the ugliness of reality to ruin the perfect night you have shared.

Joel was right. If you were only going to have one night together, you needed to make it count. Rather than giving in to your thoughts, you close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms.

When you wake up, it takes you a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the morning light streaming through the skylight. You're at Joel's house, in his bed. The smell of his sandalwood cologne lingers on your skin and the silky sheets. You roll to your side and realize that you're alone. You sit straight upright, holding the sheets to your bare chest, as you look around the room. The door is cracked open, and you can hear the clinking of dishes coming from down the hall.

You drape your legs over the side of the bed, scanning the floor. After an unsuccessful search, you realize your clothes are still on the balcony. You make your way into what you assume is Joel's ensuite, pull one of his shirts from the closet, and slip it over your shoulders. After rinsing your face in the sink, washing away yesterday's makeup, you silently make your way down the hall back to the kitchen.

Joel is humming a light tune while he's scrambling eggs in a frying pan. You stand and watch him as he continues cooking, humming to himself, and occasionally smiling. Your heart lifts at the thought that those smiles are for you.

“Good morning," you say in a lighthearted tone, pretending as though you hadn't been watching him.

“A very good morning," Joel answers with a small wink.

“I hope you don't mind that I borrowed this. I couldn't seem to find my clothes this morning."

Joel laughs and splits the scrambled eggs onto two plates.

“It looks a lot better on you. You can borrow it anytime you like," he says, not taking his eyes off of you.

“Oh wow, you cook too. What can't you do, Joel?" you ask and take a bite of eggs into your mouth.

Joel pulls out a paper bag full of pastries and places each one carefully on a plate.

“Eggs are just about the only thing I can cook. I usually have a black cup of coffee on my way out the door, so my cook doesn't come until later. I always like to keep a few of these on hand, from the bakery down the street." Joel passes you the plate full of pastries and you pick out a fluffy croissant. When it's just Joel and you, it's easy to forget that he's insanely wealthy and amenities such as personal chefs are his norm.

“I would love a cup of that black coffee if you have it on hand." You smile and break the croissant in half, inhaling the buttery scent.

“How did you sleep?" Joel asks, pouring you a mug full of coffee.

“I slept amazingly. You'll have to tell me where you got your sheets. They are so soft," you tease.

Joel chuckles and sits down next to you, placing the coffee in front of you. He brushes back a piece of your hair and tucks it behind your ear. The simple action sends another wave of heat through you, and you have to remind yourself not to get used to this. You swallow hard.

“How did you sleep?" you ask.

“The best night's sleep I have gotten in a long time," he says with a smirk and a glance in your direction. You feel your cheeks burn at his insinuation.

“Me too," you admit, thinking about how great it felt just to sleep next to him.

You take a sip of the steaming coffee and continue working on your plate.

“So what have you been up to since I last saw you?" Joel asks as though you hadn't run away without saying goodbye.

“I have just been packing up the apartment and trying to remember everything I need to do before the move."

“Did you get everything taken care of that you needed to?"

“Yeah, for the most part," you say, glancing at him. You can't stop thinking about your night together.

“Have you gotten everything packed?" he asks with a hint of sadness in his voice, keeping his eyes on his food.

“Not everything, I am close, but I still have a few more things to sort out."

“I would offer to come to help you if I didn't have to work today. I have a meeting with investors, which I can't get out of."

“Oh, no, I would never ask you to miss work. I will just call a cab," you say quickly.

“Nonsense. I will have my driver take you home."

—

Joel helps you collect your clothes from the balcony and you use his bathroom to freshen up before he walks you downstairs. The same black car is waiting for you on the street in view of the lobby.

“I will call you later, babygirl. I promise," Joel says.

You nod and look up into his eyes with a small smile. Joel bends down and touches your lips to his. The kiss is soft and sweet; the heat lingers on your lips as the car pulls away from Joel standing on the sidewalk, watching you leave.

The drive goes fast on the way back to your apartment because you keep replaying the events of your night with Joel over and over again. You can feel your face heat up by the time you pull up to your building and Joel's driver opens your door for you.

“Thank you so much for the ride," you say with a smile, the driver nods but does not get back into the car.

“Is there something else?" you ask, confused.

“I have strict instructions to make sure you get into the building safely, Miss."

You give a weak smile and head into your building and up the stairs. As soon as you put your key in the lock, the door flies open. Both of your roommates are standing in the doorway with grins plastered on their faces.

“Somebody didn't come home last night. That better mean you have something to tell us," Lin says, she's nearly vibrating with excitement.

“I don't know what you mean. We just had a nice time catching up," you lie with a sly grin, and already know your roommates can see right through it.

“Oh, you two caught up last night alright. You slept with him, didn't you?" Aubrey says, and her smile gets even bigger.

“I did," you say barely above a whisper, your smile filling your face at the admission.

Both Lin and Aubrey squeal as they usher you inside and close the door.

“We need every single detail," Lin says.

“Fine, but I really need to shower first," you say, chuckling.

After your shower, the three of you sit down so you can spill the tea. You start off with the not so interesting parts and let it build.

“So everything started out on his balcony, where he kissed me. I was ready to rip his clothes right off his body but he wanted to take things slow. He said he wanted to memorize everything about me," you say, warming at the memory. “Since it was only for the night, I'm glad he made me slow down."

“And how is this man single?" Aubrey asks with a giggle.

“Honestly, I have no idea. The way he made me feel was like nothing I have ever experienced before. Plus, he made me breakfast this morning."

“We don't care about the breakfast! How was he?" Lin asks, waving her hand to make you move on.

“He was absolutely amazing, I think I actually left my own body at one point."

“How big is he?" Lin asks, leaning in closer with a grin.

You smack her arm lightly and start laughing, hard. “No way in hell am I going to tell you that!"

“It was worth a shot," Lin says with a mocking smile.

“Honestly, the sex was the best I have ever had. And it wasn't because of his size or his amazingly toned body, which it is by the way. It was the way he looked into my eyes that made me feel like I meant so much to him. I felt like he was seeing me for who I actually am, and adored every part of me. I haven't felt that way in such a long time," you gush as you wrap a towel around your wet hair.

Lin lets out an audible moan and falls back onto her unmade bed.

“Oh, you are so lucky. I don't know if I will ever find a man to look at me like that. Although, right now I could do with one with rock-hard abs," Lin says.

You laugh and toss a pillow over to Lin, and it flops onto her.

“It was absolutely amazing!" you continue daydreaming.

“So when are you seeing him again?" Aubrey asks.

“I kind of told him that it was a one-time thing…" you trail off.

“Why the hell would you do that?" Lin shoots straight up and practically shouts at you.

“In case you forgot, Lin, we are moving in just two days. How am I supposed to continue a relationship with him while he's living in New York?"

“You can't really believe that. The man is a billionaire, I am sure you would see him all the time if you really wanted to. You are just using moving as an excuse," Lin says. She stares you down until you can't take it anymore and look away. You make eye contact with Aubrey and can tell she feels the same way.

“It's complicated."

“We just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy," Aubrey says and reaches out to hold your hand.

“I want to be happy too, but there is so much standing in our way. I am moving away, his daughter absolutely hates me now, and not to mention our age gap. Plus, the creepy stalker situation."

“It doesn't matter how messy it is if he makes you happy," Lin offers.

You sit in silence as you soak in their support. A knock on the door echoes through the entire apartment, making your heart beat faster. You all look at each other with apprehension.

You rush to the door expecting Joel to be on the other side. You're ready to tell him that you want to give this, to give it a shot. There's no one at the door, so you stick your head out and look down the hallway, but still discover nothing. Just as you're about to shut the door, you notice a small piece of yellow paper taped to it. You peel the tape off of the door and turn the note over. In tiny, extremely neat handwriting are five words. These five words make your heart drop and chase all thoughts of a relationship with Joel from your mind.

You can't run from this.

JOEL.

Everything about you had been so wonderful, and Joel couldn't get the memory of your intimacy out of his head. He sighs, resting his cheek on his fist as he rides along in silence, anticipating a busy meeting with investors. Vultures, all of them, but they were a necessary evil. The only thoughts Joel wanted to have today were of you. Unfortunately, he didn't always get what he wanted.

He watches as buildings whiz by, the scent of street vendors and car exhaust heavy in the air. People wander along the sidewalks, chatting happily with one another, arms full of shopping bags. He sees a couple lean forward and lock lips, a sadness stabbing into his gut. That could be us, Joel thinks to himself, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. Things had to be so complicated. Money could solve most, if not all problems, so why not this?

The car pulls into the building, and the door is opened for him so he can make his way inside. Bland colors like muted whites, greys, and blacks greet him as he exits the elevator and walks down the halls in his formal tailored suit. He gives an absentminded nod toward the secretary, not thinking much of either this meeting, the people here, or the day, as his thoughts are strictly locked on you..

Well. That was until he recalls a rather recent memory regarding the secretary. He remembers her words regarding the wonderful, intelligent woman he had in his bedroom only last night. Before entering the meeting, he gives her a harsh glare out of the side of his eye, something she doesn't notice, as she is busy typing on the computer. Perhaps something would need to be done about her unfair and unwarranted treatment of you.

Joel smiles to himself, the thought of being rid of this new problem tantalizing. First, however, he needs to handle the circus that is the investors. Thankfully, the meeting goes quickly, the bored expressions of the investors only mildly infuriating. It takes a lot of determination and hard work to run this company, so to see people a bit less enthusiastic makes his stomach clench with annoyance. Now he can move on to more important matters. His hand flies toward his pants pocket as he feels a vibration, raising a brow. Could it be you? He wonders, at this point excited like a lost school boy. He's a mess. Joel Miller, a highly successful man in this dog-eat-dog world. Brought to his knees by a woman twenty years his junior, but what a woman you are. To him, that doesn't matter. Joel brings out his phone, his heart fluttering and a grin widening across his face as he realizes the message is from you. Perhaps you're texting in order to work things out? He's been interested in you before, with obvious worries due to the age gap, but is now convinced that if you both wanted to, you could work things out. He would never force you to do so. However, after actually reading the texts, his heart clenches, and he feels a pit in his stomach. His hopeful smile melts into a deep, angry scowl. That bastard is still active, more than ever now. Blaine needs to be stopped, his antics this time included leaving a letter for you that reads;  You can't run from this.

Joel will make damn sure that he can't, either. He needs to figure out the status of this situation with his head of security. He clenches his jaw and resists the urge to throw his phone against the wall. Reacting that way wouldn't be helpful. Joel ignores the secretary's wary, surprised look as he briskly walks past her. No doubt, she sees his expression and posture. He will deal with her later.

Sending a text, he makes his way to another meeting room, this one private. He waits for Bruce to enter, taking a seat himself and leaning back in a cushioned chair. Bruce does, after what feels like hours but could only have been minutes.

“You want updates on the Blaine situation, sir?" Bruce asks, causing Joel to give a curt nod. Bruce sighs, shaking his head. “I have good news and bad news. Bad news first, we have no idea where he is located."

Joel puts a hand over his forehead and lets out a soft groan, the stress of the situation spawning a minor headache. “What could the good news possibly be in this situation," Joel asks, his voice laced with frustration.

The security head isn't phased, likely having expected this reaction. Rather, he dips his head, taking out his phone to turn toward Joel. His expression is grim, and there are shadows under his eyes. Perhaps this situation is taking its toll on him as well. Joel will bear that in mind for bonuses. Bruce will get a big one, if he can coherently help Joel take Blaine down, of course.

“We're sure the pictures have not been released to news outlets. My team has been watching this issue like hawks. No sign of the media getting their grubby hands on this. Your reputation is safe for now, sir," Bruce explains.

Joel sighs, muttering, “It isn't my reputation I'm worried about." He shakes his head, holding his face in his hands and thinking for a moment. After composing himself, Joel looks back toward Bruce and gives a nod. “Thank you for your hard work. I hope we'll be able to find him soon. He's been making my life a living hell, and I need to put a stop to it." Anger swells in Joel's chest at the lack of progress despite the 'good news', and not at the head of security by any means. He knows that the team is doing their best. Those not doing their best, however, are about to get punished, and hard. Joel runs his fingers through his hair, making his way out of the room and dismissing Bruce back to his current position.

Now, Joel is headed toward the front desk, his jaw tightened and his expression twisted into an incredibly deep scowl. He approaches the secretary, who is leaning back, likely slacking off as she sometimes does. That's whatever to him, as long as she gets her work done. Insulting you, however, is not included in her job description, and it tells him how she thinks of, and treats people in general. 

Joel snarls at her, “You. You're fired."

“What? But, sir, I–"

“Did I stutter?" Joel asks dangerously. “Out. Now. You have five minutes to grab your things and go. If I return and see you here, I will address this with my head of security."

“Can you at least tell me what I did?" she asks, pouting as she stands up.

“Yes. You insulted someone who is very important to me because you thought you were better than her. Maybe this will teach you a lesson about treating people poorly. Now, out!"

She stares at him with a mixture of anger and horror, the latter expression doubtlessly winning out. There's no way she can touch him, not with the amount of power he holds. One moment she was on top of the world, abusing those below her, and the next, she's below the woman she mocked. Hopefully, Joel isn't emulating that. He ponders this for a split second, but then shakes his head. No. She deserved this after the treatment of you, but beyond that, it again shows that this behavior was likely not limited just to the one woman he cared for.

Joel makes his way into another room, taking a few turns in the hall before arriving at his assistant's desk side. His angry expression fades into one that is far more apologetic when he sees her typing away, stacks of papers to be organized on her desk. She looks up, puzzled, and tilts her head. “Sir?" she asks, taking her hands off the keyboard and leaning back.

There's no fear in her gaze, like some when they look upon him, given the position he holds. She knows him well enough that if she's actually diligent with work and a good person, he will return the kindness. Unfortunately, she's about to have something added to her workload. Guilt twists in Joel's stomach, but nothing can be done about that.

“I need a new secretary," he sighs. He adds, quickly, “I'll compensate you for your stress. I promise. A large bonus. I know it's a lot, and I truly appreciate your work."

His assistant sighs, glancing back to her computer. The slightest hint of frustration crosses her face, and Joel could have sworn the circles under her eyes got just a bit darker. Then, however, she smiles, letting out a chuckle. “Sure, Joel, I will get right to it. An extra day off or two added onto this bonus may help all of this stress, though."

“After we sort out the secretary thing and other pressing problems, yes. A week off, fully paid, and that bonus. How does that sound?" Joel asks hopefully.

She grins, giving him a thumbs up. Joel sighs in relief, glad that at least, that was taken care of.

Glancing at the time on his cell phone, he realizes he has lunch with Todd and Sarah. What fun that would be. Seeing Todd again after everything he's learned about him is less than appealing. Joel gets into his car, leaning against the door and staring out into the bright, sunny day.

What he wouldn't give to be with you right now, learning even more about you, talking about plans for the future. Joel licks his lips, shaking his head. Speak of the devil, though. On his way to the restaurant for lunch, his phone rings once more, and it's you.

His heart flutters seeing your name, but he knows this is serious. “Hello?" he asks, a hint of caution in his tone.

“Joel," you breathe from the other line. “You got my text, right? I'm so scared. Can we please talk? I really want to see you again to go over this."

“Yes, we can," Joel confirms, happy to be able to see you again, but sad to hear the stress in your tone. Given the circumstance, it's understandable. “I'll have Bruce pick you up. See you soon."

YOU.

Your heart pounds with anxiety as you wait on the sidewalk, leaning against a brick wall and shuddering despite the warmth of the sun. Your reputation is currently at major risk. Your stomach clenches, swirling with negative emotions and sheer, utter fear. You've worked so hard to get where you are, to lead a successful life, and now this could ruin it all. You don't want to be stuck in a low-paying job, barely scraping by. Is Joel a curse or a blessing at this point? No, you can't think like that. Blaine is the one causing issues, not Joel.

The memories of kissing and fucking Joel flood back, and you recall how good it felt, how cared for you felt. You lick your lips, remembering the way Joel ravaged you in bed, allowing your eyelids to droop just a little. For a moment, you cap the fear, but that only lasts briefly before the wave of negative emotions crashes over you again. You start to pace, trying to reassure yourself that everything will work out. Surely your life can't be ruined by one picture, can it? But deep down, you know the truth. This is terrible.

By the time Bruce arrives to help you into the car, tears are streaming down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away, not wanting your emotions to be so plainly visible by the time you arrive. It will be hard to hide your feelings from Joel, but you're too distraught to care at this point. You click your seatbelt into place, lean against the leather seat, and stare out the window, trying to distract yourself from the inevitable. 

Above, the sun begins to be obscured by clouds, a fitting metaphor for your mood. The greys of the asphalt mix with the bland white and black buildings you rush by, their windows dark, mostly covered by curtains from the inside.nYou pass a murder of crows picking at roadkill, twisting your stomach at the sight. Though all of this is mundane, it only serves to worsen your mood. The patter of rain on the windows confirms the approaching storm, accompanied by distant rumbling. You hug yourself, close your eyes, and try to calm down.

When you arrive at Joel's house, the sight of it in all its extravagance would usually excite you. You adore seeing Joel. But with the recent problems caused by your complicated relationship, it doesn't feel the same as when you left. Bruce leads you to the door and politely steps back, waiting for Joel's protocol. You hesitate but eventually knock, convincing yourself that texting would be silly given you're right here.

Moments later, Joel opens the door. Your breath catches as you stare up at him, momentarily lost in his eyes before snapping back to reality. Memories of your night in bed come flooding back, distracting you, but you know you need to stay focused. This is a horrible occasion, but even within this tiny pocket of time, you convince yourself that surely he can help. You make that decision just by looking at him, even if it feels a bit naive. After taking a deep breath, you reach into your purse and pull out the note for him to see in person.

A mixture of emotions crosses Joel's face. His lips twist into a scowl, his brow furrowing, reflecting the mood of the storm. Another rumble of thunder causes you to jump a little, but Joel has no reaction. He slips the note into his pocket and fixes his eyes on you. His scowl fades into a worried frown, his deep eyes gleaming with concern.

"Babygirl," he begins, biting his lip, probably searching for the right words. A silence stretches as he seems to lose his words again. You break the silence after placing a hand on your forehead and dragging it down your face. You will the tears to hold back this time because you need to keep your tone steady and convey how you're feeling.

After taking a deep breath, you say, "Joel, I'm frightened about what this could do to my reputation. That note definitely indicates action will be taken soon. I really want us to work out, but with that horrible person causing all this stress and danger to my life as I know it, I'm on edge and losing it."

This time, you can't stop the tears. They well up in your eyes and slowly glide down your cheeks. Joel stares at you for a moment, probably at a loss for words. Once again, silence stretches. Say something, you think to yourself, biting your lip and quickly reaching up to wipe away more tears. You raise your eyebrows, hoping he has all the answers. Sadly, he appears as lost as you are, his head hanging slightly, his body tense.

"I will take care of you. Just put your career aside, for now. Not forever. Let me help you. It will be fine, we can work this out," Joel finally says, causing you to inwardly groan.

That's not what you wanted to hear. You don't want to have to rely on him all the time. You don't want to put your dreams aside for some storybook relationship that may not work out, leaving you with nothing. You've worked too hard in life for this, spending countless hours in school to become a lawyer. Your dreams are crumbling right before your eyes. Is it because of Joel? An inner voice tells you no, it isn't. He has nothing to do with this. By how he treats you, you know he loves you back and wants to do everything in his power to make this work. But this situation has escalated beyond his control.

You shake your head, crossing your arms as he motions into the house. "Please. Follow me, at least. Let's talk this out," he pleads. You oblige, the pit in your stomach growing heavier.

You walk through the house, your eyes falling upon the fancy carpeting and light fixtures, still finding some comfort in them despite this situation. Truthfully, you need to start letting this go. You need to let it all go. With your mind stuck here, with him, there's no way to move on with your life and advance the way you want to. As much as your heart breaks having to admit that, you know you need to be a lawyer more than anything.

You take a seat at a table across from him as he raises a brow. "Eggs?" he asks sheepishly, causing you to smile despite the circumstances.

But that smile quickly fades into a frown as tears begin to flow once more. This time, you don't bother wiping them away. You take a deep breath and make the decision you need to. Steeling yourself, you look him in the eye and say in a very serious tone, "Look, Joel, we can't do that. I can't do that. I have to do this for myself. How can I rely on you all the time? How can you take care of me through all of this?"

"Baby, I have plenty of money and resources. I can easily take care of you; you don't need to worry about all of this," Joel says, his voice tinged with a pleading tone.

"I am not some child in need of being taken care of. I can't spend my days longing for the beach billionaire only to have my independence and dreams threatened. I want to be a lawyer for myself, not for the money. If my reputation is shattered, so is my life. I am sorry it has to be this way, but this has gone too far, and I need to say goodbye."

"What? No, wait, I–"

You're not listening at that point. Tears are pouring down your cheeks as you stand up quickly, whirling and bolting down the hall. You don't care if you're running away from your problems now. You don't care if you're running away from him while at the same time wanting to fall into his arms and tell him you'd drop everything so that he could care for you. You need to do this for yourself and not be caged by this nightmare.

The expression on his face, that brief glimpse of utter grief, has your heart pounding. You burst out the front door and hurry down to Bruce, sniffling and letting out a few whimpering sobs. You feel as though you're melting. The pattering rain makes you sopping wet, which does the opposite of helping the situation. You lock eyes with Bruce and gulp. "Please. Take me home. Just take me home."

He nods, thankfully asking no questions, and opens the door for you. You get in and rest your forehead against the window, shuddering with sobs. Bruce graciously raises the privacy screen, though you catch a sympathetic glance from him in the rearview mirror.

Strands of your hair fall into your face, but you don't care. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to calm yourself down after that horrible decision. How could you just walk away from Joel? He was so great, but you were just too scared. Scared of losing what you've worked so hard for, even if you do love him. You had to do this for yourself. You hate how much you still love him. You hate how you want this to work out. But most of all, you hate that you need to leave him. All of this is what's best for you, though.

As the car pulls out of the driveway and drives off, you glimpse Joel standing there, watching you leave, his shoulders slumped. He stands in the rain, not moving, letting himself get soaked. He watches you drive away until you can no longer see each other. 

You manage to calm yourself down at your apartment, telling Lin and Aubrey that you really can't talk right then because your head isn't in the best spot. You drown yourself in books, particularly those of law, to remind yourself just how important this is to you. You can't let some lovestruck incident stop you from chasing your dreams. When you finally look at the clock, it's 11:03 PM. You gasp, surprised at just how well losing yourself in rounding out your studies has worked to eat up time.

Tossing and turning in your bed, you can't get Joel's expression out of your head. Everything about that situation makes you feel horrible. 

Did you make the right decision?

You still feel that strong urge to contact Joel again and apologize for how you behaved. Running back would achieve the opposite of what you want, though. You have to let this all go. You can do that, right? Judging by how closely you clutch your pillow that night, imagining it's Joel, you aren't so sure.

The next morning, you wake up, yawning and rubbing your eyes. The smell of fresh bacon hits your nose, causing your stomach to rumble. Through all of this stress, you find yourself eating less than you should lately. You really should pay attention to your health. All of this stress is, no doubt, horrible for you. You enter the kitchen area, looking over to Aubrey. Her eyes sparkle with concern as she stares you down, tilting her head.

“How are you?" she asks with hesitation, as if concerned the question would shatter you to pieces. 

You respond with a shrug. “Been better. My focus is on packing. We have a lot to finish," you offer. 

Aubrey nods, finishing breakfast up and serving you at the table. She sits down across from you, munching on the scrumptious bacon and gesturing for you to help yourself. That you do, something you definitely don't regret. Cooked to perfection and warming your stomach at least a little bit, the bacon helps ease you even if only a smidgeon. You're grateful for the silence during eating, though, as you're still gathering your thoughts.

When all is finished, you return to packing. You haul some books and pack them into some boxes neatly, letting out a light sigh. Lin joins you soon, her cheerful expression fading upon seeing your face. Are there circles under your eyes? Probably. You went to bed at a less-than-reasonable hour. Not to mention, you tossed and turned all night, which probably contributed to how slow you are right now.

You break the awkward silence first. “I was very harsh with Joel yesterday," you begin. 

Lin gasps, taken aback by this. “The same guy you said you had amazing sex with? But why?" she asks. Aubrey leans forward, flabbergasted by this knowledge as well. You nod, biting your lip and feeling tears coming on again. You cry a lot lately, don't you?

“Because it isn't working out," you say with a short tone, gathering your bearings. A few items in boxes later, you decide to elaborate. “My reputation is at risk. I really want to become a lawyer, guys. I am so scared. I got a threatening note, and if pictures get out of us together, I'll be done for. You know how the media is. I will never be able to practice. My dreams are at risk of being completely destroyed," you mutter.

Aubrey and Lin exchange a glance, probably debating how to approach this. You glance up toward them, waiting for their response. Your arms are a little bit achy from moving some of the heavier objects into the boxes, but you make do. Probably best to rest after these final days of packing.

“And you're sure, dude, you're completely miserable." Aubrey asks softly. You hesitate but slowly nod. Her eyes have a skeptical spark to them, but she dips her head. “I'll take your word for it even if you seem a little unsure. The stress is getting to you. I can tell."

“Yeah," Lin agrees. “The way you talked about him was hot. I still wish I had a guy like that, but if it's not going to work out, then it's best to move on. Moving will probably be the best thing that can happen."

“New York isn't a good place to be right now," Aubrey adds, her nose wrinkling. “So many problems, and on top of all this? Thank goodness Cambridge is quiet. At least, it should be quieter. Look, I'll hold the fort for you here. You promise to stay in contact, though?"

Realizing you're losing one of your close friends, you tear up all over again. The best you can do is nod. You spread your arms, and your two friends rush over to you. One group hug and many tears later, you pull away from them. You place your hands on Aubrey's shoulders. “Lin and I are going to miss you so much, we will absolutely stay in contact. How could we not, you're like our sister?"

You all hug again, crying at splitting up. It had been you three against the world for so long. The sadness is interrupted by your need to load the Uhaul. That's even worse than carrying all of the heavy boxes around, admittedly. The conversation turns from the obvious panic-inducing subject of the Joel situation to brighter, happier topics. At least there isn't a cloud in the sky above this time, making the move a bit more pleasant.

You smile and enter the apartment, wanting to take one last break before heading out with the final boxes. The stormy mood hanging around your head is at least starting to dissipate. 

Lin and Aubrey take a seat before you, munching on some ham sandwiches for lunch. Lin eyes you and asks, “You ever think about writing a book or something? Your life sounds like a movie."

After a harsh look from Aubrey, Lin grins sheepishly and coughs. “Er, this will hopefully be a happy ending."

You chuckle, shaking your head and wiping away some sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. “No, but I should, shouldn't I?" You chuckle.

Then, you sober a bit. “We don't need to avoid the subject if you have questions, though. I can tell there's something on the tip of your tongue."

Lin glances over to Aubrey, who shakes her head. Evidently your friend decides to ask the question anyway. “Do you think he will follow you? How bad was your fight, anyway? You said very harsh but that could mean a lot."

Aubrey leans over and elbows her, and Lin gives her a look that says, What? We were both wondering that.

You sigh and shake your head. “I don't think he will. At least, I hope not. I will put my foot down and tell him to go away if he does. Even if I really, really don't want to."

Aubrey's eyes sparkle with sympathy as she stares at you. “Still in love, huh? Not every day you find a man that looks at you the way you described. But, again, you should do what's best for you. Before everything else. There will be other men out there! If you think this won't work out, yeah, moving on is good. Not awesome, but good." You nod, wanting to take your friend's advice to heart and not put yourself in any more danger.

“We are really going to miss you Aubrey, life won't be the same without your great advice and support," you say and Lin nods in agreement.

“Yeah, who's going to keep my mouth in check now?" Lin says with a grin, though tears are in her eyes.

“No more crying!" Aubrey says, and you all laugh. It's going to be hard to leave this, your friendship means so much to you all. You try not to think about what Lin said. But you can't stop the thoughts running through your mind now.

What if he does follow you? Will you really tell him to go away? Or will you cave? This really isn't his fault, at all, but regardless of who's causing the issue, you together can't work.

You feel your heart clench at that, really, really not wanting to accept it. Thankfully, there's no way he would show up anywhere soon. He's too busy, right? 

You finish up your break with the other two, exchanging hugs again. They each take a few heavy boxes and head out to the Uhaul, grunting at how heavy they are.

As Aubrey passes you, she says, “You really take your studies seriously, huh? I'm glad you did what's best for you in that case, because just by all of this, your career being in danger would obviously crush you. Even more so than these heavy boxes are crushing me."

You have to laugh at her antics.

Placing the last box at the bottom of the moving truck, you wipe more sweat from your brow and smile to yourself. You can look to the future, leave this place behind, and start anew. You have so much going for you. All of this drama will be behind you soon. So will Joel. You bite your lip, not liking that thought. Maybe you should have been nicer as opposed to storming out like that. “Very harsh," you whisper to yourself.

“Uh…hey?" you hear Lin's voice. 

You're resting there, staring at a box, lost in thought. Letting out a sigh, you wave your hand without turning around. “Give me a minute, please," you respond, wanting to gather your bearings once more. All of your swarming thoughts keep contradicting you, after all.

“I don't think we have a minute. Someone is here to see you," she says. You furrow your brow and roll your shoulders back, turning to see what in the world she could be talking about.

Your eyes widen and your jaws drop as you spot a very familiar face. Your entire body tenses, and your breath catches as you take in the man standing before you. The man you'd driven away from and left there in tears only a day before. He wears a forlorn, lost expression, guilt seeping from every pore.

“Joel," you breathe. “What are you doing here?"

JOEL.

Seeing you again, so gorgeous in every way, brought back painful memories that, just hours before, he had said goodbye to. Yet here he is, staring you down with likely an incredibly pleading expression. A pit forms in his stomach as he wonders if this is disrespecting your wishes about space. He doesn't walk any closer to you, even though he very much wants to take you into his arms and hold you close. He swallows and lets out a soft sigh, opening his mouth to start.

“Babygirl, I–"

“Joel, what are you doing here? You–"

“I know, it–"

“Seeing you here again, I–"

“I wanted to talk about–"

You both stop, getting nowhere since your words are being tangled by talking over one another. He has the delight of seeing an amused glint in your eyes. You bring your hand up to your lips, covering your mouth for a moment in amusement before clearing your throat and letting out a sigh. Your expression hardens as, no doubt, you decide to stand your ground. Rolling your shoulders back, you lift your chin, regarding him with a small degree of wariness.

“Go ahead, Joel. I'll hear you out," you say, nearly causing Joel to collapse with relief. He has one last chance to make things right, and he needs to make it count. This isn't about him; this is about you. You deserve the life you've strived for. You're an intelligent, beautiful woman, and it's not his place to get in the way of that. Steeling his resolve, he does as you ask, nodding and refocusing his mind on the issue at hand.

“I was wrong," he starts, watching as you raise a brow. “I should have never asked you to put your dreams on hold for me. It was selfish. I was blinded by my feelings for you, which in the end, would have harmed you. You will still have the position at the law firm I helped you obtain, though your merits were more than enough. I understand none of this is about the money. It is about you being you, going out there and helping people like you have always wanted to. Making a name for yourself. I apologize for being too dense to realize that."

Tears brew in your eyes that you reach up to quickly wipe away. He watches your shoulders sag and listens to the little sniffle you give as you process everything he's telling you. Several emotions flash across your face right then. The first is surprise, followed by acceptance, and finally cautious happiness. You wear a soft smile, moments later not bothering to wipe away the tears.

He has a feeling they turn from panicked and sad to tears of a more positive nature right then. He can't help but feel hopeful at this and a smile slowly creeps across his face.

“Thank you," you breathe, taking a few steps forward and hesitating. “Can I give you a hug?" His heart skips a beat, and he nods, delighted for this chance. It will likely be among the last ones you and him exchange, as he is not going to get in the way of your dreams, though he has deep feelings for you.

You continue, “I'm really happy you came to see me. I tried letting go of everything, but it was so hard, Joel."

He wraps his arms around you as you bury your face into his chest. The smell of sweet perfume wafts into his face, causing his entire body to relax. Everything about you is angelic, beautiful, and perfect. He wants to sweep you off your feet and take you away, to treat you like the princess you are, but he knows those thoughts are unreasonable. Rather, he holds you there for several moments before finally breaking the silence after a thought of seeing you for longer comes to him.

“Would… you like to have one last bit of extravagance with me before you start your new life in Cambridge? No strings attached. Just a night of fun for you, to rest your mind after all the stress you have been dealing with," he says.

Even if the stress was due to him, in some part at least, perhaps this all would help. You would know you were going to a better place following the night, if you accepted, anyway. He knows you don't want him to ruin your chances at law school, but he really doesn't want to let you go. The thought of never seeing you again after tonight makes his heart ache. He looks at you, trying to hide his desperation to be with you from his expression.

After a long pause, you pull away and look into his eyes. His heart drops, considering the high possibility you will decline. You have every right to, after all, given all that has happened. He opens his mouth to assure you that he would understand entirely if you said no, but you raise a hand to stop him, your smile widening. “Yes. I think that would be good for me, Joel. Thank you. Plus… I miss you. I am sorry for storming out the way I did," you mutter.

“Oh, I deserved it," he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was not putting you first or thinking of how hard you worked to achieve your goals. But I am delighted you decided to come with me."

Right then, rounding the corner are two women, your roommates. Seeing him, your jaws drop for a moment. One walks up to you, quickly, putting herself between him and you. You say, “Lin! What are you doing?"

Lin replies, “Making sure you're alright! You came home a wreck, and now this guy is here? He's the one you left, isn't he? Looks like how you described him."

“Yes, but we talked it out. I… want to spend one last evening with him. It's something he offered to do," you say.

Lin steps aside, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow. She looks over to the other girl and gestures to him and you.

“What do you think, Aubrey?" Lin asks.

The other girl, Aubrey, shakes her head, looking toward you. “Is this healthy? Are you sure you are not in danger? He clearly seems to care, but what about the stalker?" she says, side-eyeing him. “We just want to make sure you're okay."

He can't blame them, and this is not his place to intervene. He steps aside, waiting for you to explain the situation. Trying to interject and defend himself would not be wise at this point.

You give your friends a very sad smile. “Hey, I appreciate how much you two care. I know. I was a mess. I still am. But Joel apologized, he understands my dreams come first. It's goodbye after one last night. I'm not changing course or anything. I'm not dropping my plans. I just can't deny my emotions for him anymore. Really, I need this," you tell them.

He blinks in surprise, honored you would defend him in front of your friends the way you did.

Lin appears skeptical as she exchanges a glance with Aubrey. The sun shines down on all four of you, just a few clouds in the sky right now. The temperature is mild, so the atmosphere itself at least isn't making things worse.

A car rumbles by, its mechanical growls breaking the silence that had settled on your group. You're out of the way and on the sidewalk, so you're not disrupting anyone, at least.

Finally, Aubrey speaks up. “If you think this is what's best for you, then we support you," she says. “I know you won't walk away from your dreams for anyone, no matter how dreamy he may be. But be careful, okay?" Her eyes fall upon him, and there's a dangerous glint to them he rarely sees in any expression from another toward him that doesn't relate to his wealth. “As for you, don't play with her emotions or steer her away from what she truly wants. Understand?"

He nods, aware she is dead serious and wondering if that was a threat. Not that he's opposed. This is a caring gesture for you, and he's relieved you have friends like this that care deeply. “I do," he replies. “I know I was wrong, I was just scared for her and tried to protect her the only way I know. It wasn't the right way, though. And it will never happen again."

He hopes they believe him because it's all true. He would never ask you to sacrifice your dreams for him; it isn't fair to you.

“I will arrange for someone to drive your belongings to Cambridge and set up your apartment while we spend one last night together. Lin, if you'd like, they can set your stuff up there as well."

Lin and Aubrey exchange another glance and nod. Lin says, “Thank you, I'll take you up on that! Remind me to find a guy like you when I have to move again."

This lightens the mood, causing all of you to laugh. Thank goodness, the situation could have turned fairly complicated very fast. True to his word, he makes a call to his assistant, arranging for your things to be taken care of. One last thing to worry about.

When the other two women leave, you and he are left there together, silent and just staring into each other's eyes. He finds himself lost in yours, tilting his head and cupping your cheek.

God, you are beautiful. His breath catches just looking at you. He can't believe just how lucky he was to have found you, and that you found it in your heart to forgive him even if he's drowning in guilt over not putting your wishes first.

“Kiss me?" you ask in a hush tone, and he can't help but to oblige. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, stars practically rushing through his entire body. He is lost in all of you during that kiss, emotions swirling and skin crackling with chemistry. You eventually have to pull away for air, sadly, and you let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you," you whisper.

He smiles at you, taking you into another hug. “No. Thank you, babygirl."

He will make it count and see your smile light up the area again. Nothing is too much for you, and he is going to pull out all the stops. He looks at you and smiles. “One last night together," you sigh and smile up at him.

One last night together.

taglist: @brittmb115 @lizzie-cakes @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @harriedandharassed

@vickie5446 @chiyo13 @ashleyfilm

[sterredem]

Obsessed

Oscar Piastri x singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Warning stalking (online), not proofread, Speling mistakes

Summary y/n is obsessed with her boyfriend’s ex.

A/n We are just gonna say that Lilly’s account is public… so that everything makes sense.

Also this may be more of a Lilly x reader the an Oscar one… it’s also a bit short… and this is probably the only fic you’ll get in a bit

Instagram

120.124 likes

F1.Gossip BREAKING NEWS: Our favourite young couple, Oscar Piastri and Lilly Zneimer has reportedly broken up! After their 4 years and a bit realation the couple found out that they where better of as friends then being together. Many hard are broken after hearing this news, but they claim that they are still friends. We wish them both the best with their careers, and we with them the best in future relationships.

View all 2.234 comments

User1 NOOOOOOOOO😭😭😭😭

User2 I don’t believe in love anymore😭😭

User3 WHYYY?!?!💔

User4 Hearts ♥️ been. Broken 💔 Too. Many. Times ⏳😭😭

User5 MY FAVROUTE COUPLE😭😭😢

User6 Why am I so upset at a couple that I don’t even know😭😭

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Twitter

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Time skip

Twitter

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Real life

Y/n knew she was crazy. It was actually sociopathic what she was doing. She was stalking her boyfriend’s ex girlfriend.

And not stalking stalking. She was not following her in real life… just on social media.

She was just going through the girls instagram photos, looking up everything about her, wanting to know everything that there is about the girl.

Beside that she was also looking at old Twitter threads, shortly after the break up was leaking by a gossip account F1 Twitter went crazy, they loved the couple. They made comments upon comments expressing their hard break at the news, they also still make post dedicated to Lilly and her achievements. And it tore the singer apart.

And she has to admit; lily is perfect.

And that was the worst ever.

Lilly was sweet, good with kids, talented, smart, funny, gorgeous and genuine. And maybe even far better than herself.

She now knew almost everything about her: her star sign, her blood type, her family, hot what school she goes to and on what class she was in. She knows that she slept on her side of Oscar’s bed (which didn’t make her feel good). And other things that Oscar had told her, with them knowing each other and being friends while they were dating and him finding comfort in her after the break up.

And she knows it was crazy; they broke up. They don’t even speak anymore! But still, every time he says her name, Y/n can’t help but think that he mistakes herself for his ex.

So she has to admit, she is jealous.

She always knew she had some kind of a problem, but this?

She thought about Lilly 24/7. If you knew how much she thought about the girl, you’d think she was in love.

And if you’d know how much she looked at her pictures, you’d think that they were best friends.

And that was the moment she realised: she was Obsessed with Lilly Zneimer, her boyfriend’s ex.

And not obsessed in a normal way, she wasn’t just jealous of the amazing girl, no.

She had a had a whole white board dedicated to her: all the things she liked, the things she did, the clothes she white (thanks to the fan accounts), the people she hangs out with, her hobby’s, her go to food places, everything.

She was really going crazy.

Not that Oscar knew, of course he didn’t. If he did he would break up with her for her sociopathic behaviour.

After realising that, she knew there were few things she could do.

So she walked through the house to her music room, she sat down, and begin writing.

She needed to stop with the obsession, and the only way for that was music.

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Instagram

Liked by LillyZneimer and 2.964.624 others

Yourusername SUPRISE! My new song ‘obsessed’ is out now! The music video will be out midnight est!!

Thank you @DanielNigro With working with me on this!

View all 264.275 comments

OscarPiastri Excuse me??

OscarPiastri Why didn’t I know?

Yourusername …suprise…?

SabrinaCarpenter AMAZING (but also…?)

GracieAbrams Another banger!!

Laufey The best song ever!

Conangray Girl, check your msg

User7 HUH??

User8 This ganre swich is INSANE! but I love the rock!

User9 Dare I say that this is about… Lilly

User10 Y/n in her stalking era

User11 Nit Lilly liking this😭😂

User12 The aesthetic😍

User13 Oscar didn’t know??

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Instagram

212.543 likes

Celeberty.Gossip After recent speculations that Y/n Y/l/n’ new song ‘obsessed’ is about Lilli Zneimer (Oscar Piastri’s ex girlfriend) The pair was seen hanging out and shopping together. Is the song about someone else? Is there a sudden new friendship? What is going on?

View all 3.765 comments

User1 OMG?!

User2 the line about them being best friends?

User3 Or about them being in love??

User4 I don’t know what’s going on but I love it!

User5 They look very good (together)

User6 I ship…

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No part 2… open ending!!

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Got shocked.

Quick summary: Before he knows why, Rust is fixating on you.

Warnings: Not much except it does get literally sick here kind of; sexism and really gross remarks; kind of workplace harassment; Rust being unsettling.

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: Erm this is not the second part to the Idler Wheel but I just thought I’d write this because whyyy not! It was kind of written quickly so if there are weird grammar mistakes just ignore them lmao 😭😭 might come back and edit when it’s not past midnight if you know what im saying. Anyhoo it’s September now?

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The brain-rotting contents of his colleagues’ pass-time conversations was an unfortunate byproduct of Rust’s refusal to pay mind to his own thoughts. He needed it, he thought sometimes, though he’d rather not have had need for anything: it served as a focal point for his attentions, which, otherwise, might be directed inward at himself for too long.

He didn’t pay much attention to the exacts of it all. Bar last night, dick jokes, some wild sexual exploit from their twenties: once Rust had heard it once, he did not need to hear it again. Even before they spoke, Rust had had most of them figured out. He only had to watch them, his first day at the office. Still, initially, he let them tell their shit to him and believe like maybe they could be friends, like, maybe, Rust was one of them, too, that he was entertained by their boring fucking carousel of stories. Fucking arrogant. Plagued by the crack and froth of some dry ash-type taste, Rust would swallow it down. Just the first time, though. Not the second, and not any time after that.

No, he did not care for the details. More like, it was the tone of their voices that he could plaster his resentment on. Proud, girthy, spread over too much ground, self-important. For the most part, if he had to talk to one of them, more dogs than anything else, his throat would feel too full—his mouth, too. It was what it was: force-feeding. Why anyone in their right mind would pretend to enjoy it, Rust had no idea. Everything down here displeased him, but no less so than it had in other places. Everywhere he went, Rust came with himself, though he’d tried to sever that unwelcome tie a long time ago. If he was lucky enough, some floating sensation would find him, and Rust would get to leave the conversation for some worthy train of thought. Finally, he would get to pry apart a crime scene - in his head, he did not have to use gloves: he could play it like a tape, a thousand times, a thousand different ways.

Hear them now. Rust’s lip begged to curl, which was odd. It was then, coming to terms with the sensation of his instinct, its physical demands, that he understood that something was strange about this conversation.

Slow, crawling, his eyes made their way to Marty, who had scooted his chair over to Rust’s desk. With steely eyes, he took note of how his partner’s elbow was flopped over his paperwork, how his body was sprawled open wide so unnecessarily.

Rust removed a pen wedged under Marty’s forearm. He didn’t even shift.

With the aim of cleansing his mouth of that bitter swell, he took a mouthful of cold coffee, and another, and another. When he was alone, Rust took one sugar, but, here, it wasn’t enough. Shit, it was never enough to neutralise that foul taste. Sometimes, it grew so strong that Rust would take a little longer on his smoke breaks, making his way through one, two, maybe three cigarettes. Yeah, that usually quenched it. But it was no use inside - no, he needed an open sky above him, to let all the fumes out, like smoke from a smouldering kitchen. Something about four walls and a ceiling: how many men like them had sat there, sweat there, jawed there, pissed there, before them? It just made him sick, made his head spin.

There was no need to turn to know how the rest of them were arranged. So predictable. So deeply interwoven into their psyches: the strong belief that they deserved the space that they took up, and, shit, they took up a lot. Fighting for dominance of the conversation, pushing, shoving, overlapping, each trying to mark out a platform for themselves. He wouldn’t, and it unsettled them, just as they could never comprehend anything else that wasn’t like them.

Gradual-like, Rust let his mind melt back to the specifics of the conversation, the messy, brutal abstraction of their voices condensing into words and phrases, like ink-blots soaking back up into the brushes from which they were dispelled. It didn’t take long listening for him to understand that you had drawn the interest of the hoard.

Johansson would’ve said something—if he were here. The more Rust listened—to them inching closer to what they really wanted to say, hopping around the hot topic of women and their ways on them—the fatter his tongue felt, sitting big and swollen in his mouth like it shouldn’t have been there, like he ought to have cut it out by now.

With his spectre hands, he reached into his pocket, slipped a cigarette between his lips, lit it with one flick of his lighter. That click was enough to make his mouth water, most days, although not now. Breath scraped painfully through his throat, like sandpaper.

You were distinct from them - that was a fact. When he’d been thrown into the department, he found it odd that more remarks weren’t made to your face about most things: your capability, your temperament, your looks. More often, it’d be behind your back, huddled over in the office kitchen, passed around like a note in a fuckin’ middle school classroom. He figured it was because you were smarter than them, and they knew it. At least you were only a woman, they told themselves. They couldn’t beat you up, but they could do whatever they wanted to you in their heads. They could talk about how they’d pin you down if they ever got the chance.

That last comment only happened once. At least, only once when Rust was around. He’d ended up in the captain’s office, his fingers still twitching with the way that that pulse had begged and struggled for release.

His body ached with the effort to keep himself from shaking - the tremor in his fingers would not be eased by the deep, punishing drag of smoke into his lungs, nor would the dirt clouding his brain be cleansed and sanitised by the sting, the burn of the breath he held close to him, until it hurt his chest. No, he needed the sky—but he didn’t want to leave you either.

Rust’s head swung under a bout of nausea, which hit him like the impact of falling in a dream. Briefly, he closed his eyes, taking another drag, swallowing down the husk of it. It only made it all worse.

Punch him, he thought desperately, like maybe you could be telepathic, like maybe he was as well. Who?—he didn’t know. Any of them, all of them. It was all the same.

When Marty let out a bellow of a laugh, full and selfish and fucking stupid, Rust had to look at the photograph of the dead girl in front of him again to steady himself.

Delusion did not seduce Rust. Relying on what he knew to be true, he figured that you must’ve known what you were doing. You had worn your hair down today, not in a bun as was your usual - it hadn’t taken long for Bishop, this morning, to tug on a strand of your hair, like it was just waiting to be done, like bait on a hook. If he hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve. He was inclined to simply because you dared to exist in his presence. Even then, Rust’s throat had tightened, like this. So, even though his back was defiantly turned to the hoard, Rust knew—he knew—that, when you grunted softly, it was because it had happened again. Rust closed his eyes and willed that you would hit whoever did that.

People already knew the decision they were going to make, always, in some part of their minds, so Rust didn’t see the point in attempting to console or consult anyone about anything. If it was detrimental to a case, then he would explain this to Marty, calmly point out or even correct his mistake, but, on the most part, that was the extent of his reasoning. If his partner was in a bar, flushed and loose, and flirting with the twenty-one year-old bar-keep, he wouldn’t intervene. He hadn’t. Marty dug his own grave, and Rust let him. To do otherwise would be to overestimate the sensibilities of the other and to inconvenience himself. Fuck that. People didn’t want to be changed and Rust certainly had no interest in trying to. It was a losing game, a dumb one at that. Waste of time, waste of space. Rust knew better than to take up space - he would keep what he could close to his chest; otherwise, it was dead weight that needed losing sooner rather than later.

Everyone was begging to tell, to be fucking heard. It was a naïve, selfish way to look at the world: to assume that every other human put on Earth was someone to unload onto, to purify yourself with. Rust stared hard at the twenty-four year-old woman in the photo, sprawled over her bed, that long gash down her belly, like gutting a pig. He thought of how satisfied that the killer must’ve felt, to be able to finally share his urges with someone, to get to sit, placated, with their shoulders finally light.

He looked over the coroner’s report again, despite already knowing every statement on there, trying to fill your silence—which scratched over his eyes, the front of his brain, like claws—with the lull, the truth, of the case.

They were talking to you, now.

“Let’s get you down to the bar, buck,” somebody said to you, and he was pretty sure it was Geraci, oily, slick, fat. The skin over the back of Rust’s neck, thin, had crawled.

The boys liked to call you that—buck—like you hadn’t run the same track as them, jumped the same hurdles as them. You’d transferred from Brooklyn. Same shitshow, different department. They could tell, some of them said. City girl, high up on her horse. Not really, though. Your nature threw some people off at first, he speculated - you were not cold or brash, which he sort of thought maybe you ought to be, but, somehow, decidedly kind. Not gentle. There was a difference.

You were smart, and this was why you were not choking Geraci out right now. Did you want to? Rust could not get it out of his mind. He wanted to turn and look at you—not now, just some time—and figure it out. He had an outline, like the edge pieces of a puzzle all joined up. That was always a good start. Still, he didn’t appreciate it: the effort. It made you interesting, which was inconvenient. The people who worked here were not difficult to understand - their innermost desires were eager to be released, Pandora’s box, bursting at the very seams of their mouths, and, shit, Rust let it happen. It played out that way most times with the monsters he sat across from in the box: he would listen unflinchingly, and that was attractive to a lot of people, apparently. Someone who would not shy away. Maybe that was where Rust was misstepping with you. It wasn’t like him to be glad for things, but he was when it came to the orientation of your desks: your back was to his, and he did not have to look at you, and he was glad for it. He could not pin down why.

His knuckles were glowing, he was sure of it: if he looked down at them, Rust could’ve seen that illumination, his violence emanating from within, daring to break the skin like splitting, old leather. He could smell the embers already. Maybe that was you, though, or something else.

The heat bubbled up through his nausea. No, it was him - he would be up in flames soon, some sight to behold. His eyes pulsed against the thin skin of his eyelids, so he ruled out the option of closing them.

He flexed his hands slowly, passing feeling all along his weary tendons, before he continued typing, though the letters spun and jumped out at him like bugs in long-grass. Crickets in his ears, deafening. Was almost like he could understand them, some language he knew to respond to as a child, now long left behind. He was not alone, as much as he wanted to be.

When you spoke, Rust’s shoulders tensed, like a cramp. “I got business tonight,” you drawled, ever-polite, even sweet. That raw, thick, sugary taste oozed over his tongue, clogged his throat - Rust almost gagged.

Bishop’s voice emerged from the clatter: “What business you got on a Friday night? You got better plans?”

Fuck if you did, fuck if you didn’t.

A shrill whine speared through Rust’s head then, like a fissure in the Earth’s crust, his brain a liquid, churning beneath. He fought the urge to touch his own face, make sure everything was in its right place. He knew it would be, so he didn’t move. Sensation did not indicate reality. If it did, then Rust would have had to have discovered a whole other world a long time ago. He sat still, a statue, for several heartbeats. Then, he resumed his typing. A suspect’s alibi. He did not kill her.

“You don’t gotta spend a dime with us. We’ll take care of ye,” Howard added, and the hoard hummed and chuckled their agreement, a sick tilt to all of it. Rust wished his desk were anywhere else - he rarely wished for anything.

Conviction was not an area in which you lacked. You were a quiet, formidable force. Nobody at the precinct admired the way you worked the way it ought to have been. Not enough people gave enough fucks when you conducted interviews. Once, he had seen it. He had wanted to find Marty, and Marty was with Johansson, and Johansson had been on one side of the mirror, the other side behind which you were smiling warmly at a woman who had not long ago eaten about two thirds of her boyfriend, holding her hand. She had been twice your age at least, but you were the two-headed mother there, walking that fine line. For a moment, Rust had thought to himself that you would’ve worked him, wrung him out, if he was the one across from you. Not just a thought: a realisation. It unsettled him whenever he thought about it too long. What had confused him was your distinct lack of calculation. At least, he perceived it that way. Was it instinct that let you master that certain slope of your shoulders? No amount of practice could let him fabricate it to the same standard. Or maybe you had really felt it: sympathy.

But no. Once it was done, you’d exited, and your attention was searing. Rust had left before you had time to notice him.

Stoicism: you had mastered it, and Rust itched to know you, to understand how. How was the vein in your neck not throbbing like it would burst? How were your hands not fists, white-knuckled?

And you spoke through a smile, of all things: “That’s nice, but I can’t.”

“C’mon, buck, what kinda business you got that’s so important?”

Once again, Rust scoured over the coroner’s report, flit between the list of observable marks and wounds, correlating them with the visual aid of the photograph of the entire corpse. Total ten lacerations, eight of which had been on her stomach. Other two, on her face: slicing into each of her cheeks, those soft parts.

If he did this, Rust did not have to read into your answer, which was what his mind immediately raced towards, a bullet train, blindly searching in the darkness for some semblance of you. “My own,” you replied, and it did not mean anything to him because he was doing this.

Rust body itched to leap up and lay someone out, right then and there. His fist yearned for it, for the contact. For however often Rust felt like his body was not his, he had rarely considered the possibility that it might be in charge. People did what they would with him - his job was merely to take it. There was a strange sort of peace in that type of compartmentalisation, the kind where he could simply leave what apparently made up his person. If he was away from himself, he wouldn’t have to face whatever he was doing. An education in the dissociative state, an underutilised tool. He’d even had a course on it, he was sure. It was part of the reason he could keep his pulse so low, retreating so far into this meat shell that not even his blood flowed too close to the surface. But he felt it now, thrumming in his neck, a riptide. Taking his pulse now would do nothing to save it. The muscles there were stiff, flexing oddly under the strain of choking back on the natural instinct that, it appeared, was his. It tasted like vomit. Maybe that was real, though.

You were not some lamb that needed a shepherd. Fuck, he could never be one, not any version of him: he’d only be leading a thing to rot and ruin, and the parasite would get them, too. No, Rust wasn’t the shepherd. Never the shepherd. Rust was critical and cold. He might’ve been the wolf.

Ten lacerations. Raped.

The laughter of the hoard circled his head again, again, again. Someone must’ve picked at your hair - you grunted.

Abruptly, Rust stood up, like he got shocked because the room was on two different circuits. His spine like some iron rod, so unnaturally straight, his body so unnaturally tense, so unlike himself, he momentarily drew the attention of the other detectives all clustered together in the bullpen. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought they knew, that he was fighting for the wheel, that he was battling back the grey that had begun to vignette his vision. Why was he suddenly so tall? Not even that. Alive. He could hear it: life rushing, roaring, in his ears, crackling like a wildfire. Rust’s body, that strange entity, was momentarily reborn as something else, whose neck was never bowed, whose shoulders never rounded, who conducted itself like it was powerful. Maybe it was.

Marty eyed him like he had grown another fuckin’ head.

Despite the dissipating attention, murmurs to the side, you were still looking at him, too, with your eyes so hard, almost black, like two cherry pits. Rust was piloting, and he would not look away. No. He would look on, as he always did. No matter the electricity burn of your attention, which he preferred to avoid - the energy was coursing through him, bright, his veins fried and blackening. Beneath the surface, his being spasmed and seized. But he knew that you were no different than anything, so he looked.

If he didn’t, he would hit someone. That could be taken the wrong way.

Geraci’s hand was braced on your desk, just next to you, his fat, greasy palm covering some paragraph that you had no doubt been trying to read. Rust’s hands twitched, but he had managed to bring himself inward, had relaxed most of his body thus far, and he would not fuck himself over by letting fists form now.

So, Rust stared at you, cool, unrelenting.

He was surprised by the distance of his own voice when he asked you if you could come over to the files room just a minute and give your opinion on something for him. It was like his own mouth was at the end of a long, stretching tunnel, his words far away from him. He crushed his cigarette into the closest ashtray, annihilating it.

He tasted pennies there, in his mouth. Perhaps he had been biting his tongue. Perhaps it was just the look on your face.

Okay, you said, quiet-like, before you rose, prying yourself away from your desk. As you stepped past him, Rust let himself look at Geraci. People dug their own graves, but that did not cancel out Rust’s thirst to kill. That kind of justice lies in the bones.

Most likely, he just needed to sleep. It was coming up on four days, nearly, without, which did not aid in the dizziness that threatened the stability of Rust’s every step as he slowly turned to follow behind you.

In the files room, you were waiting for him, staring up at the flickering halogen bulb that illuminated this section, the chain still swinging from when you had just pulled it.

Rust stared at your back, far away from himself, almost stumbling back when he closed the door, sealing the two of you off from the real world. His anger flung about like a whirlpool behind his eyes, thrashing and throbbing. If he had mind to say something to you—which he did not—he wouldn’t have been able to anyways. Saliva pooled in his mouth, pushing under his tongue. He cleared his throat, delaying a gag.

When you began to turn to look at him, Rust almost begged out loud that you wouldn’t, his heartbeat thrumming in his throat, almost daring him to start panting for air like a dog. The assault of the light from the halogen bulb was invisible to you, so it could not be real. No, you were looking at him now. With his hand still gripping the handle like it could save him, like he could escape it, you, he almost closed his eyes, cringed away. But what was he?—some child? He could not. Sensation was not necessarily reality, and he was not sick, and you were not of concern to him. Still, he turned slightly, his body angled toward the door at which he still stood, refusing to step any closer. He couldn’t close his eyes—you could get the wrong idea—so, instead, he opted for the linoleum floor, careful to avoid your feet.

Fuck, he could feel your relief washing over him like a warm wave. It almost knocked him clear off his feet, and it left his knees weak, threatening to buckle. Once, he had gone out west, to the coast, with Sophia and Claire. Nothing like where he grew up: out there, in that endless cold, his pa used to warn against any and all large bodies of water, ice. Even when you thought the surface beneath you was safe, it could give out, and you’d fall through into waters you didn’t know could be so deep.

Rust had reason enough to believe that this might’ve been worse.

There was salt spray in his mouth, now. Your ebb and flow churned in his stomach like the beat of a drum, reverberating through his flesh, which he was suddenly very aware of.

You’d figured it out: he didn’t need your help. He didn’t need to be in here either.

Something tangible rolled around on his tongue as your eyes scanned over him, a meticulous, slow rake. It grit between his teeth, like a grain of sand or a seed or something. Rust swallowed it and then fought a proceeding dry heave, smothered by a bright feeling in his throat that only flared up when he heard your breath hitch, too.

You were polite to spare him, to stare at your hands. Wordless, you left him to go busy yourself with nothing in the back of the files room, melting into the shadows, concealing yourself behind a shelving unit.

Even though he couldn’t see you, though, your sweetness still flooded Rust’s mouth, inescapable. He knew you were there, thinking, maybe about him.

He almost wished he had done nothing.

[oatmealdoodles]

*Spoilers for HB Full Moon*

I don’t have my thoughts coherent enough to make a clear post so im just gonna ramble

GOD this episode was a trip. Was expecting it to all be Stolitz, and then it took a hard turn with the Cherubs and the FBI, and to be honest I couldn’t care less about them. It wasn’t bad by any mean, but I was disappointed to see over half the episode titled “Full Moon” was gonna be about something other than Stolitz

And then in the last FIVE MINUTES they pull out all the stops and give us this

VIV YOU WERE HOLDING OUT ON US

I love the way this episode did misunderstandings, which is something people usually hate, because you can SO EASILY see where everyone’s coming from, and they are both completely justified. Stolas only meant good, he wanted to break the toxic deal he had with Blitzo, and he was very thorough about it. But he took Blitzo’s first bad reaction as a sign that he didn't love him, instead of giving him time to think. And Blitzo’s first reaction to someone loving him and genuinely wanting the best for him to be that they’re faking it HURTS. His outburst seems irrational but when you take into consideration how much he’s been rejected, it almost makes sense that he would assume Stolas is getting rid of him, because he’s SO CONVINCED that no one could ever love him.

And I was expecting pain, but I was NOT expecting Stolas to be choking through his tears hurt by Blitz

THIS WAS A STEP TO FAR VIV I THOUHT WE WER FRENDS

I also LOVE how this episode establishes Stolas’s charachter growth. Going back to the first episode, Im sorry but these are NOT the same people

Before Stolas was cruel and dismissive of Blitzo, only wanting to sleep with him. But now he’s grown into someone who genuinely loves him, and is willing to give up their relationship if thats what would make Blitzo happy. And this was all super subtle, over the course of many confrontations. You almost don’t realize it’s happening, but it feels so natural. You can FEEL how much Stolas loves Blitzo in this scene, and genuinely wants the best for him.

Also How Blitzo looked so HAPPY to see Stolas, he went on a night out shopping for him and looked SO EXITED to finally see him. And just how DESPERATE he looks when Stolas is saying he wants the grimware back, literally crying and begging Stolas to reconsider. I dont think I need to say this but I dont think this is about the book. GOD I hurst that the first time we’ve seen Blitzo exited about seeing stolas AND IT END LIKE THIS.

There are also so many parallels with Blitzo and Stolas switching sides, Blitz now being the h0rny one and Stolas the one who truly cares. It’s a ‘how the tables have turned” that makes this episode all the more painful once you realize:

(thanks to @timkontheunsure and @miyakuli for pointing these out)

And BROOOO THE CHANDELEIR FROM WHEN THEY WERE KIDS IN THE FINAL SHOT I didnt even realize this at the beginning but whYYY?

edit: I LOVE people pointing out that Blitzo screaming at Stolas might have reminded him of his toxic relationship with Stella, which might be why he shut down and cried, because that’s what he did with her.

anyways I think that’s all I got so have some Fizzy to cheer you up