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#i'm not here to fact check you but i'm also not out here wanting to police my content
galedekarios · 14 hours
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gale & karlach
i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.
she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.
not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:
gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb
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Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?
but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:
act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter
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Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb
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Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.
i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.
karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:
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Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").
their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:
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Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
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Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
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Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
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Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
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Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.
even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:
before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra
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Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.
she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:
karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."
she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.
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rexlroze · 3 days
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𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.
𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉
Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3
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Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.
The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—
“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.
Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.
“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”
You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.
After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.
“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 
“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”
This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”
“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.
He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it means, love.”
You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”
“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 
You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.
A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.
Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.
You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.
He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 
“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.
“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 
You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.
The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.
“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.
You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”
“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”
“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.
The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.
“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.
“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.
“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.
This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.
“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“It's a bar.”
“Your point?”
“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.
“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”
“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”
Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 
“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.
“You're torturing me.” You groaned.
“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.
“...”
“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”
As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.
“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”
“Hilarious.”
“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.
Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”
“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.
Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 
As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”
“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.
“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”
“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”
“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 
“You're not funny.”
“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.
You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.
I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.
You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”
“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 
He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.
“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.
When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.
“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.
The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.
The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.
“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.
You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.
“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.
“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”
People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.
“Mr.Popular, huh?”
“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”
“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 
“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 
“You implied it.”
“Did I?”
Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.
He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.
Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.
“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.
“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”
“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.
“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.
“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.
“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.
“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.
“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.
“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.
“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.
“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”
You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.
Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”
“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”
“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.
“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.
“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.
“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.
Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”
“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.
“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”
“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.
“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)
“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.
You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.
“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 
“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.
“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.
Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.
Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.
The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.
Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.
“No luck?” Yuri teased.
“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.
Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 
“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.
“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 
“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 
Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”
“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.
“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.
“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.
Kind of.
“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.
“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.
You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.
“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.
“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”
It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.
“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.
Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.
Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.
Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.
He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.
He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.
“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.
“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.
Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.
He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”
“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.
“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.
He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.
Ding.
The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.
Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.
You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.
“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.
“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.
“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.
“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”
“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.
He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”
Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.
With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”
“I forgot.”
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
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pharawee · 3 days
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Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...
Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:
That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.
Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.
Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).
Way has returned as Way the White.
As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).
Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.
And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).
I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.
Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).
Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!
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liquorisce · 3 days
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Do you have any eremika age gap au recs?? It’s my favorite trope and there’s nearly not enough fics out there😭😭😭
*rubs hands* I took my time with this because I am not the most avid fic reader unfortunately, but I do have a few recs and some more on my tbr. I think what you're looking for is not just an age difference but where the age gap is the focus? i've marked those in pink. definitely check the tags on these before proceeding!!
gonna start with mine just for completeness, and also because i love it *blush*
boy next door: For sixteen years, Mikasa has watched the boy next door. First: through the eyes of a child, hand in his during family trips, his hand on her first bike when she learned how to ride. Then: through the eyes of a teenager, peeking behind her blinds into his room on hot summer months when he didn't wear a shirt, eyes lingering on his lips when he pulled away his cigarette. Now, she is so much older, but he is older still, and the gap between them feels ever widening. But her desire to close it only feels more desperate.
i'm certain you've checked out @herblacktights 's ao3, but here are my favs of hers with that age gap sauce:
degausser: After a deadly flu pandemic that devastates Paradis Island and the rest of the world, Eren is all Mikasa has. After she turns sixteen, that gets complicated. -> the plot is entirely the age gap, lol!
comfort me: “Mikasa,” Eren drawled, fake scolding edging into his voice as he held the basement door open and led her outside. “Does Aunt Carla know what a bad girl you are?” For a moment, she looked stunned. A sliver of a second, a wink of an eye. Looking every inch the little girl he watched grow up, who he knew deserved better than him. But before it could take root in her and make him regret what he said, Mikasa gave him a terrible, sweet smile. “Aunt Carla says I deserve to do whatever I want after the year I’ve had,” she said and from the way that she was looking at him, he should’ve known it was a threat. cw: mild daddy kink!
love dog : this one is a bit different! teacher mikasa x student eren, and mikasa is the older one. cw: it doesn't exactly have a super happy ending. but it is one of my favs from hannah!!
Butterfly effect by @sunlightandsuffering : Sugar baby AU - older hobo eren x younger mikasa. how can i say this... it's the OG, the most delicious, lys-brand chaotic eremika but age gap flavour! i love it, i'm sure if you've been around this block you've read it lol, but it's simply amazing, read it again!!
You, me and our sins by @loneghostss : Eren is married and Mikasa has a boyfriend. But the fact that they both have someone doesn't stop them from sinfully falling in love with each other. (it is about eremika having an affair with each other and it is so sensual and hot, age gap is not central here but it definitely brings heat!!) you could also check out lost saints by the same author, there's also some age difference and great smut.
@dead-dolphins is a connoisseur of the age gap trope, defs check out all the aus on her pinned post!! ro is a master of drama and worldbuilding so her fics are always a treat. she's got some on ao3 that are all about that sweet age gap <3
chemical hype boy : idol mikasa x actor eren!! and eren is definitely playing into the older established actor mold!
i apologise if you feel something: Goth mikasa gets involved with older Eren, lead vocalist of a metal band.
the promised princess: a medieval fantasy au inspired by got. age difference is not the central theme, but it's a stellar fic regardless.
straight/edge by @sinigangsta-ao3: Mikasa Ackerman is prim, proper, and perfect. As the golden child of the Ackerman family, her academic achievements set her up for a bright future and atone for her older brother’s past mistakes. When the spring semester of her junior year arrives, she crosses paths with a local boy toward whom she’d typically never give the time of day — and they begin a whirlwind relationship that unlocks parts of herself that she didn’t know she kept hidden. this fic is more about the good girl x bad boy trope but with that delicious 3-4 year age gap sauce!! cw: NOT a hea
devilish lovers by softwinter: “I wanna be your friend, Mikasa,” he told her one day when she got home from school not able to feign a less distressed expression on her face, too many sixteen-year-old problems going on in her life. He had the habit of commenting that she was always sad, that he didn’t like how that transpired on her gray eyes.
“I thought you wanted to be my daddy,” something flashed in his eyes right then, like she’d said something forbidden, a kind of thing that could make her a bad girl in his eyes. cw: step dad kink!! definitely check the tags before proceeding.
heaven knows by @joannaofarkham: priest au where priest eren is mikasa's teacher in a catholic school. it is unfinished but the first chapter reads pretty well standalone!
eternally yours by @cxcassii: reincarnation au + age gap. It's been 2,000 years since Eren Jaeger was a titan shifter and unleashed the blood drenched madness of the rumbling upon the world. Now, in the year 2023, he's a twenty-four year old who lives with his best friend Armin. He goes about his days working as a pharmacy technician all while attempting to cope and come to terms with the loss of the loved ones he still remembers with clarity from his previous life. The atrocious sins of his past life he can never ever truly atone for. But most of all, there's one person he simply can't forget: His former love of his life, Mikasa. It's when he's not actively searching for her that they cross paths once again, and their love will once again be on trial when Eren learns that Mikasa not only doesn't remember their past life together, but is also seventeen years old. this one is still on my tbr but whatever i've read so far looks extremely delicious!!!
enjoy!! if anyone wants to add more please feel free to reblog and improve this list!! <3
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nephilimbrute · 10 hours
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how do you make your colours so scrumptious... that's a vague ask but it's like, how do you make the colours mash together well and make sure they don't clash against eachother. And when you do designs, what inspires you to make your agent ocs outfits or do you just make them because they look silly.
hmmm... no.1 i stay away from pure black and pure white. i always use an off-white and a dark desaturated color of whatever i'm using, as well as for when i use grays. here's an example vv
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^^ all of the colors on my tai lung come from yellow hues in various shades (if that makes sense). same with my lord shen. the red is a reddish-pink, and the black is, of course, a desaturated and darker shade of the red
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i tend to stay in the middle area here, i don't really like to use bright or very saturated colors. another example is when i choose an ink color for marina, i don't use something that's TOO bright, but going for something a little darker to pair with the primary color of her tentacles and her skin
now, here's my chameleon vv
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her colors were a little difficult to figure out, but i'd say they work together somewhat...they all fall into the category of being desaturated and such. mainly warm colors with the exception of the green, but i made the red a little pinkish/purpleish so it wouldn't contrast as much
it REALLY depends on the character but most of the time my lighter colors will be less saturated, and for darker colors they'll be saturated. this obviously varies, like with undead characters all of their colors would be a little more muted
i also have a theme i keep in mind for my colors. like with my fantasy marina, i think of olive or yellow-green. the only colors that i don't change (often) in the palette are the skin tones. another example is my young craig design, i think of the sepia filter and...old looking colors? like grayish browns and yellows and stuff like tha.t...i dunno
the main way i learned how to color is actually by coloring...normally? the colors all looked weird and had such contrast, but i'd overlay another layer on top with a solid color, set the blending mode to multiply, and lower the opacity. sometimes i'd do this with the mono color filter instead of a solid color
i also take inspiration from other artists! wolfythewitch is one of my biggest inspos for art in general, great coloring and anatomy. if you're looking for an artist with saturated colors that pop, check out bigskycastle!
now onto the second question...if you mean their uniforms..yeah i just went with whatever looked silly. (OLD ART ALERT ERR ERRR) cap3's uniform is intended to be a few sizes larger since it was most likely supposed to be for val before she got fired. and she wears pants instead of shorts since she wants to cover up a lot
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not much is different with maggie. other than the fact that she's wearing a uniform too small for him and it ended up looking weird
but if it's for outfits in general i just scroll through the lists of gear on inkipedia and pick whatever i think the character would wear
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isaacswhy · 1 day
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height differences w/ the group
the group x gn!reader (sfw + nsfw) summary: romantic(and some nsfw) headcanons of being shorter/taller than members of the group. requested?: no tags: romantic & sexual hcs, light insecurity mentions, a bit of sub!tgc MINORS DNI OR GET BLOCKED
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isaacwhy
If you're significantly shorter than Isaac (as an average person would be), he loves the fact he towers over you. He will remind you of it all the damn time.
He uses you like a little armrest, coming up behind you and putting his arms on your head or shoulders, using his phone or just talking to the boys while his arms are draped onto you.
Isaac likes to take pictures with you in them, and angle his head out of the photos for obvious reasons. With his height, it's really easy to pull it off. He posts all of them.
In public, don't expect any creeps to approach you. The second he stands behind you, towering over you, nobody dares to come near.
If you're significantly smaller than him, brace yourself. He's really big in all senses of the word, and it's gonna take a while to get used to it.
He loves seeing the pure size difference between you two in the bedroom. The way that in the end, he just has a strength gap with you and can take you so easily. He loves it, but it scares him a little sometimes.
If, by any chance, you're taller than him, you tease his friends with him about being short. Sorry Larry. You become this team of tall people that become house menaces.
You call him "the smallest man to ever live". As a loving joke. He calls you giant in return. Or goliath. Or something of the sort.
Isaac loves his share of dominance, but if you're taller than him, he will give it up. Having that push back from his partner is a lovely change he's never gotten to experience. Make him feel small.
softwilly
If you're shorter than Nick, he loves the fact he's so much bigger than you. He'll wrap his arms around you and coo little endearing phrases until you have to push him off.
Nick loves to make jokes about "my eyes are up here", even if you're still eye level with his head. Especially if you have to look up to talk to him.
Nick also does mirror selfies with you in them, but he always keeps his face in the photos and tries to put his head on top of yours. (He likes to make sure everybody knows you're his.)
If you're smaller than him in general, he will wrap himself around you if he's fucking you. He loves being completely larger than you and having you to manhandle.
If you're taller than Nick, which isn't that crazy, he gets a bit insecure about it at times. He likes his masculinity, and you sometimes gently remind him it's not bad to be shorter than his partner.
Being taller than Nick can piss him off sometimes, ruffling his hair from above him or wrapping your arms around him instead, he'll cuss you out (he secretly loves it).
If you're taller than him, sometimes it's a fight for dominance. He wants that control, and you have the power to take it from him. It's your choice if you want to make him submit.
BigT / Tanner
Tanner, if you're shorter than him, loves being your big teddy bear. He will give you bear hugs, will let you lay your body on him, etc. Absolutely loves the way you look when you use his size for comfort.
He also loves to make you feel big and strong! If you ever get upset over being shorter/smaller than him, he will constantly give you reassurance. Saying, "Ah, I'm really not that tall! Don't worry!"
Tanner really just is sunshine incarnate. Although, if you're the teasing type, he will dish it right back.
Tanner is extremely conscious of a size difference. He knows he might hurt you if he's too fast or rough in bed, so he's constantly checking in to make sure you're okay.
If you're taller than Tanner, he likes it too! He likes being able to collapse himself into you and wrap his arms around you, even if you have to brace yourself a bit. He's been getting bulky at the gym lately, be warned.
He loves it if you will come up to him (in front or behind) and smell his hair or play with it. Press kisses to his forehead. He melts like crazy and goes all soft.
Not being bigger than you gives Tanner confidence in bed. He worries a lot less about being too much, and it creates this amazing connection.
And, for the tops out there, he doesn't mind being smaller and being fucked. He likes being put into submission and fucked by someone bigger than him. Makes him feel all fuzzy and small.
yumi
If you're smaller than Blake, it's pretty common. He's taller than a lot of people. He really likes being taller, being able to kinda wrap his arm around your shoulder while standing next to you comfortably and slightly lean onto you.
Being smaller than Blake gives him a bit of fuel for jokes, though. Sometimes, out of the blue, he'll make a jab at your height and being tiny. But he'll never go so far as to make you feel bad for it.
Blake likes if you slide into his lap when he's at his desk. Being smaller than him, you'd fit conveniently and he likes to hold you like that. Even if it distracts him from editing, and he'll bitch about it to you when you do it.
Blake is super tender in bed. He'll be a bit worried to be on top of you so he doesn't hurt you, but you could convince him into doing it. In which case, he would love the view of you under him.
If you're taller than Blake, he can be a bit feisty about it. It's mostly just jokes, but he'll sometimes complain about being smaller than you when you help him out.
He would love for you to pull him into your arms. It would make him feel so secure to be held by someone bigger than him, as he doesn't get to feel that way much. It would make your hugs even more special than they already are.
He'd be a bit awkward and stilted the first time he fucked you if you were taller than him, but he'd get it figured out pretty quickly.
He secretly does kinda like being smaller. Makes him feel safe and secure, especially if you hold him close while he fucks you. Makes him feel like he'll be okay, like he's not doing anything wrong.
Larry Croft
If you are somehow shorter than Larry, the first thing to say is: congratulations, you've done it! It didn't seem like a possible feat to be notably smaller than Larry, but you've surpassed all expectations! (sorry.)
Larry loves being taller than someone, especially someone he loves so much as to call his partner in life. If there's anybody that loves to rag on him for his height, it's his friends.
Even if you are shorter than him, you can definitely call him short. Pot calling the kettle black here, but you'll get in on the jokes with the other guys. It's only fair, since Larry would do the same to you.
In reality, he's super soft with you when you're alone. He wants you to feel loved and okay, holding you and making sure you're fine after any jokes he or anyone else tosses at you.
He also loves being a bit bigger in bed. It's not a big priority, since it's not very likely to happen, but he'll take what he can get.
If you're taller than him, that's not surprising. However, you can definitely join in on the short jokes without being hypocritical. You make it up to him with lots of kisses anyways.
Although, you always make sure he's okay. Larry's got really tough skin, so he never lets those kinds of jokes get to him. He understands well enough he's short, and that doesn't bother him.
He loves having a partner that's bigger than him. Make him feel loved by picking him up, giving him big hugs, being the big spoon. He's used to it anyways, so he might as well get all the benefits of being smaller in the relationship.
He even loves the size difference in bed. When he's feeling a little more confident, he'll take control and disregard it entirely. He has no shortage of dominance waiting to come out.
But, he likes being small. If it's your style, you can take the reins from him easily and he will happily oblige. You can likely overpower him easily, and he folds. He's not very good at hiding how sensitive he is.
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junkanimate · 2 days
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EHY I'VE BEEN READING A LOT OF FANFICTIONS LATELY
I know, who would have guess?? Anyway I wanted to send some appreciation all around to some of the fanfics I've read, because writers need some more appreciation in general.
so, in no particular order:
✨Here's a list of fanfics I've read/I'm reading that I think they're pretty good✨
Solid Stone Turns To Clay by @randyzorra - MK fic
A solid Johnshi fic set in a pirate au, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. It's a beautiful slow burn, where Johnny is a disgraced bounty hunter who's trying to regain his fame by stealing The Shadow, legendary cursed ship. Ship that so happens to have a certain someone as her captain. Honestly not only I love the romance, but also the friendship between Johnny and Kung Lao and Johnny and Baraka.
Beware that this fic is tagged as explicit, so check the tags carefully
Back There by houndhead - MK fic
Ehy, have you ever thought that Raiden wasn't there when the others went to Outworld to find Shang Tsung? Yeah what if they never told him what happened back there because of good ol' classic trauma? I'm in love with this concept and houndhead explores it in a very interesting way, showing us how each character would act after experiencing what happened at the lab. I also really love how the characters interact with each other, in the last chapter Tanya and Tomas are just perfect.
Raise The Blade (Make The Change) by cherrycola94 - MK fic
A very fun Johnshi fic that's written a little bit like a script, it has some added scene set before the game, some exploration of the canon through a Johnshi lense, ad finally it continues as a post canon, with a very fun story. While I was reading it I could see in my head the scene perfectly, like it was actually a movie. The second chapter has an AMAZING SCENE, like I was so in love that I have a wip of that scene. I should come back and finish it honestly. The new chapter had exactly the kind of scene I was craving for recently, I'm so happy they wrote it!
But I lowered my sword when you held me and swore (you'd stay, stay, stay) by @necromanticzz - MK fic
It's a johnshi fic with a Kenshi pov, where Kenshi has so many walls up doesn't want any help but Johnny just seems to be able to go through them without any problems. Honestly I also advice the other fic necromanticzz wrote about them, the way Kenshi gets chracterized in both of them is just *chef's kiss* perfect, beautiful, amazing. The two fics are just my favourite in the way Kenshi is written, applause all around, love it.
Koffee Shop Kombat by @loujitsushotsoup - MK fic
Because a classic coffee shop au is always needed. We have multiple ships, different writing styles between chaptes, changing with which character's pov we are following, and I love the creativity that was put in it. You maybe saw this post where I drew one of the scenes in this fic, so YOU KNOW that I mean it when i say that I love this fic. And I'm a big sucker for coffee shops as a setting, really love them in real life as well.
Cole's Chilli Recipe by @before-time-had-a-name - Ninjago fic
Another fic where I drew one of the scenes and it's because it deserves it. It's a lostshipping fic, very sweet, very cozy, honestly Cole and Geo make me incredibly emotional everytime and this fic also straight up picked me up and squashed me. I saw in some of the reblogs on my post that people went to check out the fic and I'm so happy about it because they deserve his work to be checked out. And honestly if I can give her more spotlight I will take the chance. Go check out this fic, it's very cool.
Here Comes Casey Jones by Invader_Sam - TMNT MM fic
Very sweet rasey fic that takes place post movie, with the turtles going to highschool and Raph meeting for the first time Casey Jones. What can I say? I just really love Rasey, and I love they're both clearly crushing on each other but they're not really saying it. And the fact that there's no unecessary teenage angst, they just really like each other, and I love that for them ❤
Think Of It As War Paint by less_depresso_more_espresso - TMNT 2012 fic
Another Rasey one, short and sweet, where both of them honestly are giving so much gender in my humble opinion. It's hard to explaning it without just saying all the fic, so we could say it's about them just chilling on a roof.
A Garden Across Our Collarbone by PittedPeaches - LMK fic
I think everyone and their mom already know this fic, and if you don't it would be my honor to talk to you about it. This for me is THE spicynoodle fic, it was one year of my life and honestly at the end of it I cried. This is a soulmate au, where demons sometimes have soulmates, and when that happen it's like they share skin, so they can write stuff on their body and it will appeared on the skin of their soulmate. It mostly starts like a rewriting of seson 1-2-3 by Red son's pov with this new dynamic, and then it becomes a new original timeline. The way this fic is everything to me, every chapter was an incredible experience, I fell in love with this fic at every chapter. So many beautiful scenes, written so beautifully, as I said this fic was 1 YEAR of my life. It was also a very difficult year, and I'm honestly so happy that this fic was there for that time of my life.
Desde el Principio by ShippingMyWorld - Nicktoons United fic
Okay idk If you saw me reblogging a bunch of Nicktoons fanart like two days ago, but just so you know I'm totally going into the rabbit hole of this fandom and I will be lost for a while. Now, this is a Danny Fenton/Manny Rivera fic, the tag has only two fics and both of them are from this writer.
I wish I had this commitment in my life, to just being THE ONLY one creating a specific content for something and still having the motivation of doing it
I read this fic last night, I finished it at 5 a.m. and I do not regret it at all, this was amazing
I actually recommend reading both fics because they are very good, I'm giving a shout out to this one because I think it's the one that made the biggest impact to me personally. ShippingMyWorld you did it, you converted me, I ship this now.
And that's the list, thank you so much to every fanfic writers that give us such amazing art everyday, you're the backbone of fandom!
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rareship-rats · 6 days
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Number one test of character. Show him the rats.
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He accepted them. Yay!
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leatherbookmark · 5 months
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ootd features the words "black dress" in its lyrics and people are like oh! this is a reference to another group's song, "black dress"!
i'm unwell.
#shrimp thoughts#also 'you people just Don't Understand' part 2: apparently there will be Part Two. just like with gee idle's allergy and queen/card#which. lol. apparently 'when allergy came out people were shocked because the it was basically 'if you're ugly tough shit just get a#surgery' but once queen/card came out everything was clear!' and like. how was it clear. what was clear.#one song is 'boo hoo i'm so ugly i hate looking at myself in the mirror and no one likes me i should get plastic surgery'#and the other is like 'ya hoo i'm so hot and sexy i'm like these two western celebrities!!!! i'm so cool i'm twerking on the runway'#kp/op kinda sucks balls in that it's like.... musical equivalent of tjlc crossed with marvel. it's basic ass pop made to sell except with a#faux deep garnish. and sometimes the garnish stands on its own! like if you take guerrilla it's clear that there's actually no deeper or#more detailed philosophy behind it. it's not really n.o where the 'rebellion' was actually supposed to be against something concrete#it's like. we want to feel! we don't want... not to feel! but the sound and visuals are strong enough that you don't mind it#like fuck yeah the lads are staging a revolution now! and now they're outlaws in a western! sort of! and now it's alice in wonderland!#but v often the companies actively make use of the fact that kp/op stans will obsessively look for Depth and Serious Themes in their#cultural reset slaying sotys. a girl looks at a butterfly? oh the song is about having an identity crisis like in that one poem about a guy#dreaming about being a butterfly. it's actually very deep and you can see it was all planned because there was a little butterfly icon#above the tracklist. and the fans get so attached to their headcanons theories and interpretations that they don't stop for a second#to check if there was anything in the 'text' in the first place#remember that one magritte post? this is also how kp/op stans interpret things. she wears a blue dress here and blue is the color of summer#and summer is when you have holidays and don't have to go to school! so by this blue dress she's trying to say that you should love#yourself and strive to be the best version of yourself by embracing your hobbies and extracurricular interests. this is so genius 😭
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trans-leek-cookie · 10 months
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someone talking about the ways media and common tropes/depictions of things that are either explicitly or implicitly linked to marginalized people are demonized and presented badly is not a fucking opportunity for you to flex how you're doing it Differently And Better
#I'll rb the post but I domt want to add it on cause it feels. Not my place maybe#Anyway fun fact! You can think that all you fucking want! Close your God damn mouth about it and figure out if it actually adds to the#Conversation! Marginalized ppl don't have to hear about how you're hashtag Not Like The Others!!! TAKE IN THE INFORMATION AND CONSIDER IF#THE THINGS YOU DO TRULY DEFY STEREOTYPES OR ARE STILL IMPLICITLY INSPIRED BY THESE BIASES!!! AND DO IT QUIETLY OR WITH SOMEONE WHOS WILLING#TO LISTEN! NOT ON THE POST INFORMING YOU OF THE PROBLEMS EXISTENCE#Also I'd move this tag up but genuinely idk if I can do that atm. But I'm LITERALLY guilty of the same shit. I immediately jump to no true#Scotsman the subject because I want to defend it!!! Yes I recognize the pattern is wrong and yes I genuinely believe it isn't necessarily#Inherent! But I still have to confront the fact that it's so prominent and to many people inseparable from the subject#(That being disability and body horror). I will say: my immediate instinct was to disregard any body horror that is just like Real Shit Tha#Happens To People as body horror but that's not helpful! I can't just say well it's not body horror BECAUSE PEOPLE STILL CALL AND SEE IT AS#BODY HORROR!!! I HAVE TO STOP AND CONSIDER THE LARGER IMPLICATIONS. My PERSONAL OPINIONS do not matter and the pedantic discussion is#Something to be had with friends or used as it's own criticism of the genre not ON THE POST CALLING OUT A REAL ISSUE! Anyway just.#Both artists and consumers have to be critical of What we see as body horror/what others tell us is body horror/what we accept as body#Horror bc/what we create as body horror etc. We NEED to confront that and we can't just say I Wouldn't Do That! We need to understand that#It goes deeper than that!!! Also YOU DONT INHERENTLY KNOW WHATS POSSIBLE FOR A HUMAN TO EXPERIENCE#There's so many things that ppl can experience and Live With! There are obviously things that are fatal so u rarely hear abt them but human#Beings can survive a lot of things!!! And here's the thing: the rarer something is the shittier it feels to have it misrepresented!!!#At the very basic level: CHECK IF THE THING YOU WANT TO USE AS BODY HORROR IS A RECORDED PHENOMENON AT LEAST!!! FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK#DO THE BARE MINIMUM
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fandom-with-no-hope · 2 years
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Sometimes I think about the stupid little things that changed me forever and I find it really funny like
Why do I like the color green? It's because in 2018 when I first heard about DDLC Monika was my favorite and so I loved Green bc of her eyes
Why is my fav song Hotel California? It's because in 2019 I watched a Let's Play of the fnaf fangame Dsaf 3 and the Salvage Music stuck with me since
There are a lot of exemples of silly little things like that and I find it really funny
#Same energy as panicking when you can't plug your phone bc you watched BBC Sherlock tbh#But it's really funny to me! I don't know why it stuck for so long#Another exemple! The way I draw characters is inspired by an artist I used to follow when I got into fnaf in 2017#His name is Datpink Reptile now btw and his art is absolutely magnificent and he posts a webcomic on Instagram <- check him out if u want#But those things are oh my so stupid I could rant here in the tags for hours#Pokemon time bc of my best friend every Cobaltium I caught since 2015 has been called Coca and every Spiritomb is 1H.KO#Whenever I don't know what to draw I always end up doodling Frisk and Chara even tho I haven't played Undertale in like mf years#And whenever I'm walking alone at night I hum the deleted Ahit song where Hat Kid sings about Subcon forest#I've been doing this for years and thinking about it it's rlly driving me insane I think LMAO#Stupid things that also make no sense to anyone anymore are funny#I have a plushie named Joshua because it's Gordon Freeman's son in hlvrai <- nobody can knows that other than me#I've also got a pink pocket knife named Henry bc of Dsaf and I also had an old camera that I decided to name Tim bc of Marble Hornets#This probably seems cringe tbh but the fact that this has been going on for 3 years and more is actually wow#And don't get me started on the strange man series and how it impacted me on my schoolwork and stuff#I'm in my nostalgic Era don't mind me it's my summer job fucking me up mentally I think -#Isabelle is called Asriel in my phone because we used to play Undertale together when we were younger. And Clara was Chara and I was Frisk#I miss those times#Anyways I'm going to bed I'm working tmr 💀 it's 10pm but Eh whatever#[.txt]#miles mumbles#tommy talks
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coldflasher · 2 years
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you know what’s a scam? at the end of last year i just severely stopped giving a fuck at work and i was literally spending so much time doing fuck all, messing around on my phone for most of the day only to then edit like 30k in the space of 2-3 hours after lunch, and somehow i got away with it and my quality scores were fine. this year i was like okay this is not cool, i’m gonna make a determined effort to do this properly. so now i actually focus and don’t procrastinate, and yet i’m now consistently underperforming and i’m about to be put on performance review for the second quarter in a row which is... not great
i personally think our scoring system is stupid and needs an overhaul because in spot checks, they take off the same number of points for everything. so if i were to completely fail to edit a sentence and left it in a completely unreadable state, i would only lose one point, but then i also lose a point if i misplace a hyphen. so like. last year i somehow managed to fully miss this massive sentence that ended up making no sense whatsoever, and that was fine, apparently, because i didn’t lose points in other areas, but now i’m about to be put on performance review because i missed a few commas and accidentally used a mixture of single and double speech marks in a quote
the worst part is the way they do checks is so annoying because they just pull two random papers from the past 3 months and you can GUARANTEE they will pull a shit one. you can be on top form for ages and then have one bad day and somehow they always manage to pick the one paper you made mistakes on. i’m aware that they do this on purpose to put the fear of god into you because the idea is obviously that every paper should have no mistakes but let’s be real, that’s not realistic. human error is a thing. everyone makes mistakes. and somehow they have a sixth sense for finding the papers you made those mistakes on.
the problem is that last time i went on performance review, they monitored me for a bit and then did an extra spot check and the papers they pulled that time were basically perfect. one literally had no errors and the other had like. two. so i got a near-perfect score. which probably made me look great, like i’d worked really hard to fix the issue, which to be fair, i did. and they were really happy with that. except this quarter they pulled two more and i got the exact same bad score i got last time. so now it looks like i only started putting in effort when i was being monitored and then just immediately stopped trying again as soon as i wasn’t under review which ISN’T EVEN TRUE. i’m genuinely trying, here. but i’m very aware of how bad this looks and now i’m gonna have to do another one of those awful meetings where they bring up the fact that i’m Underperforming (*already shaking and crying at the mere prospect. once again i am about to get a bad grade in having a job*) and they literally have a senior manager who just. sits in the meeting in silence. watching. and nodding. while some other guy points out all the mistakes i’ve made. because that isn’t unnerving at all
i hate employment, i want to go live in a little hobbit hole and never have to receive another performance review again
#im genuinely just not cut out for this#because like here's the thing: i clearly am capable of getting those scores#but i have not yet figured out a way to do so that doesn't involve me being so stressed and burned out#that i want to put my head through a wall#like sure i can fix all your commas but also i have to spend an hour doing unpaid overtime every day to make up for the time i spent crying#and im not being funny but IT'S COMMAS. IS IT THAT DEEP#like yes ideally i would catch them all. im aware that it's my job to do so and i'm doing my best#but when you have to edit 40k a day every single day for 5 days a week. that's a LOT of work#im starting to realize why we have such a rapid staff turnover actually#i keep thinking that it's me and im the problem and maybe i just can't hack it... but actually#looking at how many people have quit in the year i've worked there#and the fact that someone recently applauded one of my coworkers for her long service and she's literally worked there for 3 years...#maybe. this isn't a sustainable pace for a normal person to keep up with#every now and then i think about trying to get a new job but i don't handle change well#when i made the transfer to this job from my supermarket job i literally had crying meltdowns every day for the whole training period#...are we sensing a theme here?#but i got away with it cos it was all remote so they didnt know that i was handling it so badly#but the thought of getting a new job and having to learn how to do something else is just. awful. genuinely hideous#i guess im just gonna have to deal with being extremely stressed for the entire rest of this year. no matter what i have to do#make sure my next two spot checks are all perfect and hope that i also don't end up succumbing to the urge to eat my laptop#oh yeah anon if you read this im afraid i do not care if i sound like a wanker#im allowed to be a little bit of a bitch about capitalism actually. as a treat#long post for ts
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thetriangletattoo · 2 years
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javiscigarette · 3 months
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.
1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.
2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.
So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.
Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.
He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.
Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.
Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.
I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.
He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.
I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.
OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.
Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world
PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox
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yeonzzzn · 29 days
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I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦
fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭
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chill & kill: sim jaeyun
part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k
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You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. 
“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”
You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door. 
You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library. 
“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!” 
You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.” 
The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you. 
The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies. 
You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives. 
From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure. 
“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin. 
He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.” 
You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!” 
Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.” 
“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective. 
You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” 
You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one. 
But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes. 
You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook. 
Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—
“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.” 
“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?” 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.” 
You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side. 
“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.” 
You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center. 
Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake. 
You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways. 
Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered. 
You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?
He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen. 
In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes. 
Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.” 
A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board. 
Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove. 
You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door. 
Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone. 
There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?” 
“Can I have the police report?” 
Jake blinked at you, “Huh?” 
You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?” 
Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.” 
Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”
Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.” 
You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous. 
“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 
Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.” 
Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.” 
You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.” 
Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep. 
You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s. 
Meaning he wasn’t home. 
You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number. 
“Hello?” 
“Sunghoon, where are you right now?” 
You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction. 
You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?” 
Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.” 
You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it. 
“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…” 
Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” 
You raised your brow, “Yeah?” 
He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.” 
“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.” 
Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.” 
You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue. 
“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.” 
You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.” 
You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.” 
He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.” 
You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.” 
Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.” 
You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after. 
“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?” 
You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.” 
Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.” 
You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line. 
Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.” 
You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.” 
Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.” 
You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag. 
You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together. 
You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag. 
The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense. 
“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.” 
Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer. 
“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.” 
Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” 
“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours. 
“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.” 
You swallowed, “Everything.” 
Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.” 
“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.” 
Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?” 
“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense. 
He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?” 
“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.” 
Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.” 
You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.” 
He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”
“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.
“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.” 
“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.” 
Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.” 
You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.
Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” 
It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard. 
“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening. 
You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him. 
You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them. 
“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor. 
You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face. 
He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.” 
Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face. 
“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning. 
Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?” 
“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?” 
Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.” 
From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his. 
He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid. 
Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. 
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck. 
You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” 
Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.” 
You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.” 
He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.” 
You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.” 
His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. 
You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,” 
“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.” 
The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you. 
Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.” 
You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.” 
“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.” 
Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick. 
Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.” 
You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.” 
Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.” 
“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours. 
“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.” 
“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.” 
Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping. 
“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.” 
He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more. 
And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you. 
“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right. 
You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.” 
“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.” 
A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you. 
“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”
You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“
“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.” 
Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.” 
Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was. 
“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 
You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back. 
Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more. 
He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 
“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?” 
You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret. 
He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again. 
What did you get yourself into?
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