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finniestoncrane · 2 days

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Almost There

Capullo!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 4k commission: eddie desperately trying to get someone to like him, but failing a bit miserably before he starts succeeding, as he was always bound to 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: whiny/desperate eddie, teensy bit of angst

With a sigh of resignation, Eddie looked out of his window on to the streets of Gotham below. People, like ants, below the feet of a God they didn’t even know they worshipped yet. But he could take very little joy in that usually comforting fact, as he knew there was one ant of great subordination who refused to bend to his will. And that was despite knowing everything he could offer them in exchange for their undying and unquestioning devotion.

No amount of anything he had would fix this situation. This was him now. He was stuck. Edward Nygma. Stuck. Stuck on a puzzle, on a question, on a task, for which there seemed to be no possible outcome for. Or at least, not one that he deemed reasonable, not one that he would be happy with. Which, after all, in the mind of the Riddler, was not the correct answer at all.

The phone he clutched in his hand was quickly tossed onto the nearest surface. It was just a hopeless distraction at this point. A symbol of futility. Of his seeming failure.

Eddie’s fingers were getting tangled in his fringe. The greasy strands of his usually neatly swept back shock of red hair were getting caught as he twisted and pulled at them. Teasing at them nervously, he paced around his pre-furnished, and entirely impersonal, apartment. Looking at the extravagant wall clock he sighed and groaned, letting it form a soft growl as he ripped a few extra strands of his hair out in his closed and trembling fists. He was thankful for the thick, soundproof walls in this building. It meant he could talk, or groan, or yell, to himself as loudly as he wanted without fear of anyone hearing his plans. Or his pathetic whining.

“How long does it take someone to answer a text? Is she really that stupid? And if she’s that dull and so incapable of typing a message out, do I really want to be associated with her?”

His self-serving insults regarding your intelligence only helped to make him feel worse about himself. You were perfect. Beautiful, but in a way he’d never really seen before. Interesting, more so than any other woman he’d bothered giving the time of day or willingly chose to get to know. And you weren’t stupid. In fact, you seemed scarily competent and able to hold your own against him. Which he hated.

Another thirty seconds of anxious pacing, as he wondered what could possibly keep someone busy for this long. It wasn’t as if you could have anything important to do. Or anything more important than responding to his message. You weren’t him, after all. He was the busy one, the important one, the mastermind genius that had barely had time to focus on anything but himself. What could possibly be distracting you?

With a finger raised almost comically in the air, one floating light bulb short of looking like a caricature, Eddie shouted out.

“Unless! Unless… she’s really not as stupid as I thought. And… all this… is a clever ploy! Oh! Oh-ho-ho! That is… well, that’s frankly almost brilliant. I hate to admit it, but credit where credit is due, I suppose.”

He picked up his phone from where he had tossed it, laying on the polished marble surface of the sideboard he hated so much but refused to give up, as he’d been assured by the realtor that it was something a woman would appreciate. And of course “a handsome bachelor such as himself would definitely be looking to entice a woman”. He was glad that realtor was dead.

Gripping the soft velvet on the back of the sofa, he leapt over it, landing with a thud with his legs up on the cushions, head leaning back on the soft pillows as his red hair spread messily behind him. And he held his phone steadily in his hands, trying hard to exude confidence, even falsified, just to give himself something to cling to.

Behind him, the large, floor to ceiling windows gave view of the sunset, which was slowly stealing the remaining light from Gotham and sinking it once again into complete, dangerous darkness. And as that beautiful sight disappeared, wasted entirely on Eddie, he typed a quick message out, one that he felt sounded casual, despite it being agonised over in his hyperactive mind.

“Hey, you get my text? Maybe you missed it. Maybe you missed it on purpose. I’m on to you, baby ;)”

He paused for a moment, reading over the words on the screen with a twisted expression of disgust.

“Hm… maybe not baby… at least not yet.”

Deleting the final word, he read the text again. And then again. And then once more, before he decided to delete the whole thing. Throwing his phone to the floor with an exasperated grunt, he realised that you might have been watching his little ellipses, the telling dots that screamed “HERE COMES EDDIE! TYPING ANOTHER MESSAGE! LOOK HOW DESPERATE HE IS!”

Up until recently, everything had been going exactly his way. He’d scammed his bosses, embezzled expertly from the company that owed him everything and had until that point given him nothing, and bought himself a luxurious and ridiculous apartment that he had wild dreams of turning into a bachelor pad, with endless parties that revitalised every night with new guests and new drinks and new experiences. Money hadn’t quite been enough to buy him the necessary friends or women, however. Although, when he thought about it, technically his money had bought him the company of several pleasant enough women. But it felt like an offence to him that he had to pay for their services, to beg, essentially, for their affections, and then had to add on an extra few if he wanted to have them pretend to listen to him as he talked to them. By his calculations, women should have been falling for him. They should have been paying him for the opportunity to be talked at. He was Edward Nygma! He was intelligent, he was handsome, and now, he was wealthy.

Realistically, there was an obvious solution here. And an easy one at that. He could go out, flash some cash, and find the first suitably pretty girl who reacted positively to his shtick or his flaunted wealth and take her home. But that routine had gotten old, it felt like those cheap sudoku puzzle books you could buy at the corner store. Easy, too easy. Though he might be loathe to admit that to anyone, given that he felt it was part of his reputation, his lore, his borderline misogynistic use of woman as a status symbol as an essential aspect of his character by this point. In his illusions of grandeur, and his misinformed concept that everyone knew who he was, he felt like everyone knew that about him, this staple of his personality, especially the girls at the clubs he frequented when his loneliness became intolerable. What Eddie wanted in a woman reflected his desires for the entirety of Gotham, and eventually the world. He wanted immediate adoration with nothing in return. An endless willingness to please him. And key, above all: subservience. Complete and utter subservience.

So why was he all of the sudden chasing someone who refused to give him the time of day? Who couldn’t even reply to a text with due diligence? He mused out loud, pondering this interesting conundrum, before he spoke his assumed answer.

“The… challenge? Maybe?”

As he spoke the answer to his empty apartment, he realised the confusion within him. One part of him knew the answer, the other too stubborn to learn it or accept it. He supposed it was the right answer though. It made sense, after all. Everything had been too easy lately. Very little ever posed a threat or a challenge to him anymore. And life had, unfortunately, become boring. Perhaps the fact that his plans and dreams were falling into his lap made him question whether or not he was actually achieving anything. This one act, going against the grain, against everything that he was, and wanted, to his core, felt like the first time he had actually engage his brain in something. And that was good practice, because sure enough, when his greater plans were in motion, he would have to be well-versed in thinking on his feet. Especially if he wanted to outwit the GCPD and his future, pointy-eared nemesis.

And of course, besides all of that, he was Edward Nygma. There wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve, no challenge he couldn’t eventually meet. The last thing he was going to do was let some ungrateful woman get him down. No way. Even if it took all of his determination and might, and every ounce of his brain power, which as previously concluded was not really up to much else at the moment, he would have you.

With a renewed, and somewhat misplaced, sense of confidence in his abilities, something he found hard to admit had even been diminished in the first place by your ridiculous behaviour, Eddie typed a simple message. Admiring it before sending it as though it were a piece of minimalistic art. A masterpiece. One to be looked on by the ages.

“Hey.”

That was enough. And quite frankly, it was all you deserved right now after your negligence and rude behaviour. He would let you come running to him. Let you get intrigued by his casual interest. You could – no – you would come to him. As he sat, grinning smugly at his self-congratulatory pride, his phone pinged. The small chime was enough to make him jump, his heart thumping as it missed a beat, a strange sense of arousal that surged through him at the mere suggestion of you paying a tiny iota of attention to him. And as he picked up his phone, he muttered to himself.

“A response already! See, Nygma, you know what you’re doing.”

Looking at the screen of his phone, his grin was immediately forced down by the immense emotional gravity into a large, comical frown, his brows scowling as he read the brief message you had decided to grace him with.

“What do you want?”

Seething, and through gritted teeth, Edward hissed into the empty apartment.

“Oh, you little…”

He managed o stop himself before he said something even he might have regretted. But still, enraged by your lack of interesting and your crude wording, Eddie felt his fingers tense around his phone painfully. Any more pressure, or strength in his slender body, and he may have cracked the device in half. Relaxing his digits, he typed a quick message in response, pleased with himself, but still deeply upset with yours. If that’s how you wanted to play it, then you could get ready to be met with a formidable opponent.

“Sorry, might be the wrong number. I have two girls’ numbers in my phone right now without names yet… which one are you?”

That would show you. False competition for his attention might engage you better. If you thought there was even the most slender, most remote chance, that you might not get to be with him, then it might encourage you to a little bit more receptive. Or at least, slightly more polite. But your response, coming incredibly quick, only served to snuff out that idea.

“I’m the one you should delete and block.”

“Fuck!”

Eddie tossed the phone once more, letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet on the floor as he rolled over on the sofa, burying his head in the cushions and letting out a variety of grunts and groans, though mostly mewling and pathetic whimpers. After a suitable amount of time spent feeling sorry for himself, and trying to convince his own ego that the backfiring of that particular approach was down to your difficult personality, he rolled back over. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he tugged nervously at his hair again as he tried to reason with the silence.

“Come on, Nygma. Solve the puzzle. She’s a Rubik’s cube, and you need to get your fingers all over her, twist her the right way until she makes sense.”

With an exasperated sigh, he reached to the floor and picked up his phone. There was a chance, he thought, that being himself might, for the first time ever, work when dealing with a woman. After all, it was foolish to keep trying the same methods and approaches, madness to think it might yield different results. Something completely different, something out of left field. A shock factor. It might just be the thing to loosen you up.

“Perhaps…”

Delighting in the idea that perhaps he was the solution to the puzzle after all, he typed out a new message. Very flirty, very cheeky, and typically Eddie all over.

“Oh! It’s you. I’d recognise that attitude anywhere. Spicy. Off-putting. I won’t be deleting you, so what do you want your name to be in my contacts? Would ‘babe’ do?”

You were typing already. Hook, line and sinker. He had you, and even if you were only replying in order to tell him off, at least you were communicating with him. It was better than nothing. And it meant he might have another chance before you decided to block him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Ok then. What about ‘cutie’?”

“If you think ‘cutie’ suits me, then I think you still have my identity mistake.”

“Ok, fine then. If we’re going for descriptive accuracy, how would ‘Stone Cold Bitch From Hell’ suit you?”

The back and forth stopped. There was no immediate response from you, and panic began to settle in Eddie’s chest. If this backfired, it would take a lot to come back from it, effort he wasn’t sure he was ready to put into even a committed relationship let alone a hook-up with someone he barely knew. Even he might not be able to rescue this situation from the hole he had dug for it. Maybe, he should have clarified it was a joke. Text you back immediately with a smile and a laughing emoji. After all, not everyone was as intelligent as he was, and the nuances of his humour did often go unrecognised or misconstrued, through no fault of his own obviously.

When his phone finally pinged, Eddie held his breath as he looked at the screen, his skin dimpling and his hairs standing on edge as he waited for the disastrous consequences of his actions to rear their ugly head.

“Actually, that one kind of suits me. Maybe you’re a bit more perceptive than I thought you were. And don’t get excited, because that really isn’t saying a lot.”

With a smug grin washing over his face, Eddie elected not to respond any further than sending you one solitary winking face. That would do, for now. He had to take it slowly, even still. Weeks of pandering to you, of trying to be someone else. And now, finally, he found out that you were one of the rare few who responded positively to his true self. A woman of refined taste, it seemed. But he was still wary, cautious.

As he got himself ready for bed, he thought back on how much time he had wasted so far on you, trying to convince you that he was perfect for you from behind a façade that you clearly had no interest in. He’d learnt the lesson, yet again, the hard way. Be himself.

“Be yourself, Eddie. That’s how you’ve won everything you have so far in life. Who can resist your charms? I mean, come on!”

He grinned wide into the mirror above the sink, shooting himself a quick wink, sly smile spreading further. He brushed his teeth quickly, spitting into the basin before focusing his attentions back on his reflection, picking at his teeth and combing back his hair before stopping to pose in front of the mirror. He flexed his almost non-existent muscles, self-obsession and illusions of grandeur once again assuring him he had the body of an Adonis, and then he laughed.

“I am genuinely almost jealous of her. She gets to be with this! Hoe wonderful for her. I truly am a gift.”

Thoroughly enamoured with himself, he took his self-satisfaction and headed to his bed to celebrate it in the disgustingly lewd way only he could. And, surprisingly, beyond the thoughts of how wonderful he was, he was thinking of you as he congratulated himself over, and over again.

And he was still thinking of you in the morning when he woke up. It had been a long time, concerningly so, since someone other than himself, or that ridiculous vigilante with his tight-fitting costume and penchant for leather, had been able to steal the focus of his attention. The excitement at the novelty of the situation had him giddy as he got out of bed. Purposefully ignoring the pull of desire to check his phone for any notifications, he opted to primp and preen first. The longer he held off checking, the longer he could live in ignorant bliss of the true, and potentially heartbreaking, outcome.

“Schrödinger’s booty call…”

He winced at his own joke, the thought of it distressing him. What if that’s all he could get out of you, in the end, after all of this?

“OK, but do I really want more?”

Yes was the answer to that, although his empty apartment could hardly scream that back at him. This was beyond a quickie, a one-night stand with someone he found physically enticing. He had deeper feelings for you, maybe only slightly underneath his callous and crude surface. But they were definitely there. What they might amount to in the future even he couldn’t be sure of yet. But all he knew was that once with you would not be enough. Not for the trouble he considered himself having gone through for you.

Finally dressed and smothered in his obnoxious cologne, Eddie turned his attentions back to his bedroom as he left the ensuite to find out whether he had a reason to live this morning. And if you hadn’t replied, his plans to destroy Gotham would be enacted far sooner, spurred on by your cruelty.

Luckily, however, for the citizens of Gotham and Eddies own ego, given that with so little preparation he was sure to fall flat on his face if he commenced his grand scheme so early, he had one message and it was from you.

“Nygma. That’s right, consider yourself lucky that I remembered your name. You’re good with computers, yes? I seem to recall you bragging about it.”

“Ha ha! I’ve got you now!”

A typical ploy! How many times had he asked for help from someone, which he never needed given he was the smartest and most competent person who had ever lived, just to get closer to them or to spend time with them? Far too many for him to count. He was very aware of what you were trying to do. And he was more than happy to play ignorant, to play along and give you what you so clearly wanted.

On the edge of his seat, quite literally he realised as he shuffled back into the centre of his bed, his fingers tapped quickly, furiously, as he replied to your message.

“Obviously, of course I am. It’s kind of my thing. Although, you obviously knew that.”

Was he too smug? Maybe… But you clearly liked him. It was impossible for you to deny it now. It was only a matter of time before he lured you into his web and kept you there… willingly of course… unless…

Eddie’s more villainous daydream was cut short, thankfully, by the slight vibration of his phone against his palm, a tingle sent through him like an electric shock as he took a breath and looked to his screen, or looked to his future.

“Great. Is this guy any good? I need someone to fix my laptop and he looks competent.”

Attached to your words was a screenshot of some less man, the Computer King he was calling himself, who was offering extortionate prices for no doubt shoddy, subpar work, regardless of what it was that you needed.

Were you joking? He couldn’t be sure. It could be an effort to make him jealous, retaliation for his own efforts the night before. It felt as though you were goading him into offering himself up on a platter, detailing his skills and positive attributes like you were interviewing him for the job of “gracious boyfriend”. And that just wouldn’t stand, not even…

“It would stand though. Only for her. But still, irritatingly so…”

Laying back in his bed with a soft thump, he clutched the phone to his chest, reminiscent of how he had been the night before, and so many other moments leading up to this one. You were in his head, and he could feel you slipping into every other facet of his being. But still, he was slightly pissed off with your constant back and forth, your cold attitude, flaunting the concept of communication in front of him and then snatching it away cruelly with the suggestion that you’d be giving it to some other, lesser, man.

Fed up, and already annoyed at this early hour, he typed a droll message.

“Yep. He’d be good enough for you, anyway.”

With a falsified grin that faded into a genuinely emotional frown, he placed his phone down and went to the kitchen to grab some coffee. He managed to convince himself he’d done the right thing. Pretending to be proud of himself, he sipped slowly, a dramatic “ah” at the end of each slurp as he continued the farce. Who he was performing to, he wasn’t even sure himself. But given that he spent most of his time in solitary isolation, self-congratulatory arrogance with the aim of tricking himself into feeling comfortable was the least strange thing he did alone.

When he realised he hadn’t heard his phone chime, though, he began to feel tense and nervous. He was fidgeting, tapping the edge of his coffee mug with his fingers, shaking his leg, his foot bouncing on the ledge of the breakfast bar. One moment of, albeit in his mind rightfully placed, anger, and he’d undone his weeks of hard work.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

In a rare moment of self-reflection that bordered on a breakthrough, Eddie considered his life as a whole, and how many things had actually gone right for him. The years of slaving away at a job that didn’t respect or value him, his tortuous formative years filled with bullying and excommunication from every social group he had tried to enter, his lack of luck in social situations with anyone he dared to interact with, his formidable and deeply unloving parents. The possible, but likely inevitable, end to his great schemes when the vigilante of Gotham decided to crack down on him. Surely, all of these amounted to an understanding that Eddie might just not be lucky, or made for good fortune. Or, could it be that Eddie was the problem? That he was the common denominator in all of the unfortunate things in his life?

It was a self-hating thread that he rarely pulled, for fear that his entire existence would become unravelled. But then, a glimmer of hope as he heard the chime, finally.

Tripping over himself in a bid to reach the phone as quickly as possible, he read the message wide-eyed and hopefully.

“I don’t want to regret this, Eddie. You seem to not understand. If I get another guy to look at my laptop for me, then I can meet you for a coffee while he works on it. You seem like you might be adequate entertainment for an hour. And besides, I feel like hating myself today. So?”

Eddie’s wide smirk pressed into his cheeks as he sighed dreamily. With any luck, you’d be willing to commit to hating yourself every day if he could just make sure this date went well. And since he had already managed to get this far with you, he assumed his natural charms would see him the rest of the way.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nygma #zero year riddler #zero year!riddler #capullo riddler #capullo!riddler #riddler smut #x reader

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harmonysanreads · 2 days

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ One Year Commemoration Post↬Sumeru Love Hexagon

-; ੈ♡˳ BEHIND THE HEXAGON

☆ The primary inspirations behind this AU are Alhaitham's Demo and this Fan Musical that debuted on Spring HoyoFair 2023!

Alhaitham's Demo no doubt gave many writers and daydreamers heavy brainrot and I happen to be one of them lol. But it was not until the fan musical that I had a concrete enough idea. I was charmed by the amount of tavern shenanigans this concept had the potential to bring, which is something that I really wanted to write at the moment :>

☆ Originally, Scaramouche or, Wanderer wasn't even supposed to be part of the AU!

Mainly because I didn't see many inclusion of him in the Sumeru Crew (at that time) and was unsure how it'd be taken D: But then, I remembered the v3.6 trailer where he was duking it out with the others and I was like 'why not?'. From that point on, he's come a long way and has even become the Best Boy of the Hexagon! :D

☆ Scaramouche's 'innocent in front of reader and the opposite behind their back' act is a tribute to his very first in-game appearance in the v1.1 Unreconciled Stars event!

This is something I'm humbly proud of, so to say. I still occasionally go back and admire the writing from that event. I think it's absolutely criminal for such a lore-rich and well-done in terms of character introduction event to be limited but oh well. Scaramouche, in my opinion, can be an excellent actor when he needs to be and if you watch the story from this event, you'll understand. Combining this with his mental state from after the Interlude Quest creates quite a messy situation though and, I kept it that way intentionally :>

☆ In the initial draft, Alhaitham was written as a very jealous character!

The cause of it being reader's infinite care for Kaveh. But obviously, I scraped it and wrote a much more toned down version and I sometimes wonder if I should've gone with my initial thoughts. Admittedly, I was playing it safe due to some reality checks regarding his character so I don't regret it a whole lot. But if it was up to the present me, I would be down to writing jealous Alhaitham immediately lol

-; ੈ♡˳ QUESTIONNAIRE

Does the Reader have White Knight Syndrome?

Well, I didn't originally write them with this particular condition in mind, however, upon further reflection I can see that they definitely show some symptoms of it. And considering the situation they're in, it's very easy for them to fall into the condition itself. I'm not at all qualified to diagnose someone with a mental condition so, my answer will have to a soft no. However, if anyone wants to imagine them as such, they're of course free to do so.

Is there any character you'd want to write differently if given the chance?

I already mentioned Alhaitham to a degree but, I really really wish I had been more considerate of Cyno. We're entering debatable territory here but the Hoyo writers putting so much emphasis on Cyno's TCG addiction and jokes while handling his actual lore whimsically made me lose interest in his character at that time. Though, I hope his upcoming Story Quest will fix this and do his character justice <3

Who is your favorite among the boys?

If you've lingered around my blog for a while, I know you thought I was going to say Alhaitham but, within the confines of the AU, it's actually Kaveh! He's like the initial spark that kindled the actual fire, as such, he's the first one you read about. I felt immense empathy for him after I learned about his lore through leaks, which is reflected onto the reader as well. Had this been a different timeline, Kaveh and Reader's relationship would be pure wholesomeness.

Who among the five is the endgame?

Ohohohoho.. place your bets because it can be literally anyone :) Even someone outside the hexagon in the off-chance they end up slaughtering each other lol. Kind of out of topic but, I think the Wanderer route would be genuinely heartbreaking unless he does something about Reader's mortality. He'd have to watch the one person who truly loved him decay slowly, while he remains afloat his raft of artificiality, safe from the clutches of death temporarily. Thinking about the endings make me feel quite sad honestly, it's a reminder that even the lighthearted shenanigans of the Hexagon will end at some point.

-; ੈ♡˳ ENDING NOTES

I could've easily done a writing event to celebrate the anniversary but I just really, really wanted to talk about these little tidbits. Many many kudos to you if you've made it this far, I hope I didn't bore you :')

Memories are fragile things, so I'd like to think of this as a memorial of sorts that I can look back to after a few years and not think of myself as a total failure lol. I wrote this AU at a rather difficult period of my life, which is why this is more lighthearted despite falling into the Yandere genre.

I don't really know how to express my gratitude without sounding overly sappy, but I'll forever remember every interaction, comment, ask etc regarding the Hexagon fondly. I even remember someone saying they're binge reading this late at night instead of studying for an exam or something which is.. wow, I hope you're doing well nowadays my fellow night owl! I appreciate every each one of you for even taking some of your time to read my silly ramblings <3

This is not at all the end of the Hexagon AU, just to clarify! I'll still answer any asks regarding the five losers (affectionate) because, despite the limitations placed by reality, in fiction, we have the power to imagine and write infinite tavern shenanigans.

Just before I posted the original concept, I thought to myself, 'If even one person smiles because of this, I'll consider it a success.' and now, looking back to the amount of people that enjoyed the Sumeru Love Hexagon (very silly name but I digress) I just feel so, so happy.

Thank you, everyone, sincerely <3

#sumeru love hexagon #well turns out i cannot do this without getting emotional after all :I #hsr is a big distraction these days so i really hope cyno's sq gives me good brainrot so i can return to my roots>:(#i almost didn't want to post this but screw anxiety #happy anniversary hexagon #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere concepts #yandere x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere kaveh x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere cyno x reader #yandere tighnari x reader #yandere wanderer x reader

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to-the-stars8 · 2 days

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Vigilant Coffee

Batfamily x Reader Chapters AO3

18-What’s Worse than a Gotham Villain? A Karen.

You had dealt with vigilantes, cartoon villains, and every other creep under the sun, but your one weakness? Karens.

There was just something about them that got under your skin. It was like their mission in life was to just be a major bitch. In all honesty, it made you want to eat glass. Luckily, with the night shifts, you never really had to deal with them. All of the vigilantes that came through your door were kind, and the villains, albeit less so, could be tolerable on some occasions.

Much to your dismay, your luck was not there. This lady, who had come in an hour before your shift ended, was being such a prick. She started with passive aggressiveness, being short and curt with you—It was then that you knew no matter how right you could have done something she was going to find a fault within it.

This lady was out for blood that night. As soon as you placed her order on the counter, she took one look at it and said, “This isn’t what I ordered.”

“You ordered a chai latte with cinnamon, right?”

“No, that has to be someone else’s order.”

Your eyes darted around the cafe before saying, “You’re the only one here.”

The silence after that was too loud and the tension now thick. The lady’s pale face got beat red and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Suddenly, her loud, squeaky voice that you were sure could crack glass, cut through the air, “Are you talking back to me?”

“No, Miss, I’m just trying to understand—”

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” She said.

You only mumbled an apology before taking her drink to remake it. Before you could even get two steps away she stopped you by snapping her fingers to get your attention. That irked you more than anything, but you knew once you said something your boss would be out for your ass. Your boss was one of those ‘the customer is always right even though they’re not’ type of people.

You looked at her with a smile, though, just to be the bigger person. “Yes?”

“What are you doing with that drink?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you answered, “I’m going to remake it for you.”

“Are you stupid or something? You can’t waste a drink, give it to me.”

This time, you wanted to stand your ground, “Not unless you pay for it, Ma’am.”

Now, that was the straw that broke the damn or something like that. Now this lady was laying into you like no other. She called you every name in the book, and, when she ran out of those, she thought of more. Some, admittedly, were a bit creative.

You were in near tears when, all of a sudden, a voice somehow managed to overtake hers. “Damn, lady, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

You turned to see Arsenal and Nightwing walking toward the two of you. It was like a switch turned in that old hag in front of you. She went from being a cunt to a cupid in a matter of seconds. You, on the other hand, were relieved. She tried to fawn over the heroes but looked less than interested, a bit mad even.

“Why the fuck are you talking to someone who’s trying to help you like that?” Arsenal asked, stepping closer to the lady.

You wanted to know her response, but Nightwing sauntered to the counter like nothing was going on. He leaned against it and asked, “You okay?”

You nodded, sure if you started talking you were likely to break down, but it didn’t matter since the tears were already falling down your cheeks. Trying to maintain your dignity, you asked Nightwing to give you a moment to remake the woman’s drink. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how you felt, it was the customer that was always right according to your boss.

“No,” The lady sheepishly said as Arsenal stared at her down. “I’ll take it.”

“Would you like me to heat it for you,” You asked. “I think it might have gotten a bit cold.”

Nightwing turned to the lady and said, “That’s so nice, isn’t it?” When the lady didn’t respond, he asked again, sounding more stern. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes!” The lady said, eyes darting between Nightwing and Arsenal. “And, please, if you would.”

“Okay,” You said, sniffling as you wiped away your tears.

As you heated her drink, you listened in on what Arsenal and Nightwing were telling her. They were giving her a lecture on how to treat people, saying that, in all the years they’ve been vigilantes, they’d never seen someone get treated this badly. Arsenal, though you had never met him before, had a lot to say in your defense—Even going as far as to come up with some creative insults himself. You kind of liked it, especially since it was hot.

The ding of the microwave stilled the lecture and the lady was quick to take her drink back. She gave you one more pathetic glare before quickly walking out of the cafe. It wasn’t until she left that you finally broke down.

Arsenal leaned on the counter as he spoke softly to you. “Hey, gorgeous, don’t let that lady get to you, okay?”

“Okay,” You said pathetically as you wiped away your tears. “I’m sorry I’m crying.”

Nightwing slid over the counter to hug you, which made you cry harder. “Hey, hey, why are you crying again? It’s okay.”

You sniffled into his suit. He smelled just like Batman but with a hint of cheap cologne. “Because I’m crying in front of two hot guys, asshole!”

You felt Nightwing chuckle, his chest moving a bit against your face, and you couldn’t help but blush. Oh, man, this just sucked even more. Looking at Arsenal, he gave you a weary smile and cooed to you that it would be alright. Yup, you'd be thinking about this later tonight.

Now, the other other weakness you forgot to mention? Hot men being nice.

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #clark kent #nightwing #dick grayson #roy harper #arsenal #green arrow #batman #damian wayne #tim drake #robin #red robin #cassandra cain #batgirl #stephanie brown #barbara gordon

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just-another-star-47 · 3 days

Text

Sebastian Sallow

My headcanons for him before Anne's curse.

More headcanons for Slytherin • Gryfindor • Ravenclaw • Hufflepuff

16 September 1873 ♍️ , born 37 minutes before Anne

He speaks English, Scottish Gaelic, Latin, (Ancient) Greek, French and knows some runic alphabets -> if he is interested in a subject or enjoys a particular story, he learns the language in which the work is written so that he can read it in the original version.

Feldcroft borders directly on Goblinland, so he also knows common phrases and words in their language

His favourite thing to read are Greek myths, as his father often read them to him; he knows the myths about the Rape of Europa and Heracles by heart - in English and Greek.

His parents were often busy with their research and experiments, so Sebastian was often left to look after himself and Anne.

His parents travelled a lot and lived in different villages, taking their children with them, so that they were unable to build up any real friendships outside the family and at some point Sebastian gave up trying to make contact with other children.

In Feldcroft, after the death of his parents, he also rarely socialised with his peers, but withdrew even more into himself

The villagers often described him as very mature for his age and often gave him tasks with which he could earn a few coins, food, etc.

Sebastian not only has many of his father's characteristics, but also looks very much like him, which made it difficult for Solomon to treat him fairly and caringly from the start - as Sebastian did not put up with this and often rebelled against it, Solomon eventually gave up trying at all.

Sebastian had the villagers of Feldcroft teach him all about field and garden work in order to provide Anne with the best possible food, but Solomon often used the work as a punishment.

Sebastian has little interest in contact with people and quickly becomes impatient unless the person has something that could benefit him - knowledge, skills, information.

He knows exactly who he should be friendly to and who it makes no difference to.

It is not difficult for him to make someone cry with words alone.

He loves puns.

Sebastian likes to be left alone most of the time (Anne and Ominis are the exception) and so it comes in handy that he has built up a bad reputation at Hogwarts over the years.

Together with Anne, Sebastian is always one of the best in his year.

In most situations, Sebastian manages to find a benefit for himself.

Due to his ability and his intellectual superiority over most people, Sebastian feels very self-confident, but does not believe that anyone could like or even love him just for himself. He therefore constantly tries to prove his worth.

He sees himself as the protector of Anne and Ominis and therefore always appears composed around them - neither of them has ever seen or heard him cry.

Sebastian thinks the world is deeply unfair and it is up to him to find his own way by any means possible.

He idealises his parents, especially his father and, to a certain extent, Anne and Ominis too.

#sebastian sallow headcanons #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcanons

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anonymousewrites · 2 days

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter One

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Summary: Saiki tries to avoid Yumehara since she has a crush on him and gets dragged to the beach.

“How do you get a girl to stop liking you?”

“I thought Teruhashi was just confused about how you don’t react to her,” said (Y/N). They weren’t offput by the sudden conversation. Saiki wasn’t one to beat around the bush. And, hey, it was nice to have people get straight to the point.

“It’s someone else.”

“Well, aren’t you popular!” teased (Y/N).

Saiki gave them a look. “I don’t want to be.”

“Alright, I understand,” said (Y/N). “The best way to get a girl to stop liking you is to stop giving her hope, get her a different guy, or get a partner yourself. However, there are some girls who will never lose hope. In that case, it’s pointless to do anything. Only time would solve that one.”

“So if her attempts to flirt with me or get to know me don’t work, she might lose interest?”

“Yeah, unless she’s a determined one.” (Y/N) shrugged.

I already know what Yumehara is planning, but I can’t let (Y/N) know since it wouldn’t be normal. “What might a girl do?” asked Saiki.

“Hmm, she’ll probably use classic tropes like bumping into you from around a corner. She might ‘drop’ books or papers to make sure you have a reason to stick around,” explained (Y/N), “She might use a slight variation of that by dropping something of hers by you and pretending not to notice.” They smiled. “Those are some of the common ones, at least.”

“Alright,” said Saiki.

“Good luck!” said (Y/N).

The day had ended, and (Y/N) stood out in the rain. The students passed by them with umbrellas, but (Y/N) paid them no mind. The downpour was rejuvenating. It made them feel alive. They spun around, feeling the rain on their skin. Was it a little manic-pixie-dream-person? Sure. But it was also “Singing in the Rain,” which is classy and not a terrible cliché.

Yare yare. They’re going to get sick from that.

They held their arms out wide, tilting their head to the sky and closing their eyes. At that exact moment, a beam of light struck the sky. A circle of light fell down, hitting (Y/N) at just the right angle. They seemed to glow.

If someone saw them, maybe they’d say “oh, wow.” If.

The moment ended as the sky cleared, and Saiki teleported down, walking out to where (Y/N) was waiting.

“Hey, Saiki, solve your problem?” asked (Y/N), pushing their damp hair back.

“You look like that and you’re asking about me?” Saiki deadpanned more than usual.

“What’s life without a bit of romance?”

“What does dancing in the rain have to do with being in a relationship with someone?” questioned Saiki.

“Romance is also about the feeling of excitement and separation from the everyday,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I like to enjoy the little things in life. Some people like to be serious—” they grinned at him teasingly “—but I like a little fun. And anyways, you haven’t told me whether or not you solved your problem!”

Saiki looked back to where Yumehara was standing under an umbrella with a boy and blushing. He could hear her thoughts, and she was already into the new guy (although Saiki was slightly insulted about how easily she got over him). “Yeah, it all worked out in the end.”

(Y/N) followed the pink-haired boy’s gaze and saw the pair. They found it strange that the pair were under an umbrella since it was sunny outside now, but it was sweet all the same. “Aw, what a nice ending. She has happiness, and you have one less bother.”

“Finally.”

A couple days later, (Y/N) headed over to Saiki’s. They were bored, planned to go to the beach, and wanted someone to go with. Coincidentally, Nendou had the same idea and was going to Saiki’s house. Together, they knocked on the door.

Yare yare. I can’t read either of their minds, so I didn’t realize it was them before opening the door. Saiki sighed inwardly.

“Hey, pal!” said Nendou, “Let’s go to the beach!”

“It’s so sunny and beautiful! You can waste tomorrow inside,” said (Y/N), knowing exactly what Saiki was up to. They put their hands on their hips and grinned. In their pink swim-shorts and white swim shirt, they weren’t very threatening.

“A-a-are they Kuu’s friends?” asked Mrs. Saiki in complete shock.

“He’s not my friend.” Then, realizing what he forgot, Saiki added, “Neither are they.”

“Wahh! This is the first time any of Kuu’s friends have come to our house to visit.” Mrs. Saiki was nearly in tears. “I’m so happy!”

“We’re best friends,” declared (Y/N) proudly, and Saiki deadpanned.

“To think that Kuu has finally gotten a best friend!” Mrs. Saiki dabbed at her eyes.

“Hey, pal, I didn’t know you had a big sister,” said Nendou.

“He thought I was his big sister! I’m so happy!” Tears continued streaming down Saiki’s mother’s face.

“Just how many times are you going to make my mom cry?” asked Saiki.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel kinda bad, even if they are happy tears,” admitted (Y/N).

“What? What? You’re his mom?” Nendou was surprised. “Me and pinky here are off to the beach and came to ask him to join us.”

“Why am I pinky?” wondered (Y/N).

“You wear a lot of pink,” said Saiki matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that sounds nice,” commented Mrs. Saiki happily.

“Obviously, I’m not going. I’ll spare myself the pain,” said Saiki.

His mother suddenly had a scary look on her face. “Your friends went to all the trouble to come and get you. You’re going to the beach, Kusuo.”

“Oh,” said Saiki. He wasn’t going to argue with her. He may be a psychic, but she was still his mom and quite intimidating at times.

They had arrived at the beach finally. Along the way, the group had picked up Kaidou as well, who was now being teased by Nendou since he didn’t want to get in the water (it seemed he couldn’t swim, though he denied this).

Saiki sat down on his beach towel. (Y/N) spread theirs out beside him. They lay back and closed their eyes, basking in the sun’s warmth. A nice moment of peace was just what they needed before they started swimming.

“Kaidou’s drowning.”

“Huh?!” They sat up suddenly, and sure enough, Kaidou was floundering on his back in three inches of water. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Saiki!”

“I’ll save you!” came an energetic cry. A lifeguard dove into the water, sliding on his stomach because it was shallow. Unfortunately, his swimsuit got stuck in the sand, revealing his bare bottom. It was, of course, Hairo.

“Oh, it’s you, Hairo!” said Nendou.

“Great job, Hairo!” cheered (Y/N).

“Why are you congratulating him? Kaidou wasn’t in danger.”

“Because it’s nice,” answered (Y/N). They were there to encourage their friend.

“Oh, Nendou, (Y/N)! You, too, Saiki?” commented Hairo.

Saiki didn’t answer. He was too busy reading.

“What’re you doing here?” asked Nendou after they were out of the water.

“I volunteer as a lifeguard,” explained Hairo.

“Ahhh! I’m drowning!” screamed a swimmer.

“I’m coming!” yelled Hairo. He dove into the water and swam out to sea.

“Volunteering when it’s this hot? That’s amazing,” said Nendou. “Hey, pal, pinky, aren’t you guys gonna swim?”

“Just forget I’m here,” said Saiki, not looking up from his book.

“I might in a moment,” said (Y/N), smiling.

The tall boy looked disheartened until spying a group of girls. “Okay, then!” He put on shades. “I’ll go hit on girls.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” commented Saiki.

“He lost interest in swimming pretty quickly,” said (Y/N), amused.

“Hey, have you ever looked in a mirror?” cried Kaidou from behind Nendou, “Why don’t you try walking on walker?! You have better odds of pulling that off!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Guys’ looks aren’t important.” Nendou gave a confident thumbs-up. “It’s all about attitude.”

While Nendou walked off and was (inevitably) rejected by multiple girls, (Y/N) turned to Saiki.

“Sorry you got dragged here,” said (Y/N).

“Weren’t you the one who invited me?” questioned Saiki.

“Well, yeah…” (Y/N) rubbed the back of their head sheepishly. “But I wanted you to come by choice. I didn’t expect your mom to be so scary.” They smiled at the pink-haired boy. “So anyways, feel free to stay here and read. If you need me, I’ll be swimming.” They stood up and headed towards the water.

“Yare yare. The other idiots are just going to come bother me, so I’ll join you.” He glanced over to where Nendou was chasing after girls. “And I don’t want people to think I’m with him.” He took off his jacket and t-shirt, stole Nendou’s floatie, and began walking to the water.

“That’s fair,” admitted (Y/N), cringing at poor, clueless Nendou.

Soon enough, the pair were swimming in the ocean. No words were needed; both enjoyed the soft sounds of the waves (Saiki was plagued by people’s thoughts, however). Saiki decided to give (Y/N) a turn in the floatie so they could relax their muscles from swimming (and so he could swim down to the bottom of the ocean to try to avoid thoughts). (Y/N) was bobbing on the waves watching the shore, not paying attention to Saiki, when something caught their attention. A young girl seemed to be floundering in the waves.

“Is that girl in trouble?” they wondered, concerned and stressed now. There was no response. “Saiki?” They frowned and turned to where their friend should be, but he was gone. Worried for the girl, (Y/N) left the floatie and began to swim over. They tried to drag the device behind them, but it was cumbersome and slowed them down. They let it go and swam to the girl, who was already sinking. (Y/N) held their breath and dove under. They dragged the girl to the surface, gasping for air. Struggling to support the unconscious woman, (Y/N) started to pull her to the shore.

Luckily, Nendou, already carrying Kaidou, arrived and helped hold the girl. “All right!” said Nendou. “You doin’ good, pinky?”

“I’m fine,” panted (Y/N), relieved to have some of the weight lifted from them.

“Hey! What happened?” asked Hairo, swimming up to them energetically.

“Oh, Hairo! Great timing,” said (Y/N).

“Give us a hand!” said Nendou.

“Sure, I’ll h—Ahh! My leg’s cramped!” Hairo began to fall below the waves.

Oh, boy. (Y/N) sighed and pulled Hairo up. They and Nendou were now holding up three people between them.

“You, too?! Geez,” said Nendou.

“Sorry,” mumbled Hairo.

“It’s fine, let’s just hurry to shore,” said (Y/N).

Yare yare. They’re so high maintenance. Saiki swam up from underneath them.

“This is too much for you guys! Let go of me!” said Hairo.

“Shut up!” said Nendou, but he was starting to fall underwater.

(Y/N) wasn’t fairing much better. They had already been swimming for a while before doing this, so they were exhausted. “Crap…!” They fell below the waves with Nendou and the others. Nendou grabbed them, but they continued to sink. Suddenly, they were lifted above the waves. (Y/N) felt something was support them from below.

“A-Are you standing on water?” gasped Hairo.

No, I’m holding them up, thought Saiki. He began carrying them to shore but made it appear like Nendou was running across the waves.

“See? Didn’t I tell you that you could pick up walking on water faster than you could pick up girls?” said Kaidou.

Just as they were about to the shore, (Y/N) slipped from Nendou’s grasp and fell into the water. Nendou was close enough to walk everybody to the beach, so Saiki let go of him. He dove deeper into the water and grabbed (Y/N)’s wrist, pulling them up with him. Calmly, he carried them out of the water and put them down on the beach gently. (Y/N) coughed up water but seemed unharmed.

“Are you okay?” asked Saiki.

“I’ll feel better after some rest,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Thank you for saving me.”

Saiki sighed. It seemed to be a sound of exasperation, but it was really a sound of relief. He didn’t like his friends (acknowledged or not) being hurt. “It’s getting late. Let’s go.”

(Y/N) grinned at him. “Good idea.” They decided not to harp on Saiki helping them. They’d not tease him like that.

Saiki and (Y/N) gathered up their stuff and began walking back with Nendou and Kaidou, who had been talking to the girl who was saved.

“Knowing you, I thought you’d demand something in return for saving you,” said Kaidou to Nendou.

“Humph, I wouldn’t do something so lame,” said Nendou, “Of course, if she fell in love with me, well, I guess I’d have to live with it, right?”

(Y/N) sweat-dropped but was amused at their dramatic expressions. They doubted that in particular would happen. After all, just saving someone’s life wouldn’t make them fall in love. That being said, it was a rather nice thing to do.

And I guess it is a nice fantasy, thought (Y/N). And being saved by Saiki was fun, like a fairytale.

…Huh? That was a new thought.

“That won’t happen,” said Kaidou.

“What’d you say?!” demanded Nendou.

(Y/N) began laughing at their antics. They could put those thoughts on the backburner.

“You never got thanked by that girl, aren’t you upset that Nendou gets the recognition?” asked Saiki.

Huh, I thought he wasn’t around when that happened… thought (Y/N). They shrugged. “She was saved. That’s all that matters, right? I imagine that if you were saving people you wouldn’t care about recognition.”

Saiki blinked. Am I sure they aren’t a psychic?

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@futureittomainn

#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki k x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki

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poorlywoventhread · 16 hours

Text

Task force 141 × Formula 1 Headcannons

ah yes let me just combine my

h y p e r f i x a t i o n s

Gaz

● Massive merc fanboy

● Got into the sport when Mercedes was dominating and instantly became a fan of Hamilton.

● Price gifted him tickets to the silverstone grand prix, was the best leave of his life.

● Abu Dhabi 2021 #neverforget (he's not a toxic fan, though)

● He threw his phone at the wall when he found out Hamilton is going to Ferrari.

● Pretty chill person to watch with, always prepares snacks and enjoys people company.

GHOST

● No one expected him to be a fan. Most of tf141 isn't even sure he is.

● He quietly supports the underdogs (Williams, Haas, Alfa Romeo - refuses to call them stake/kick)

● Sargent reminds him of rookies he's trained, so he likes seeing him do well. He also likes Nico Hülkenberg.

●Absolutely no one knows about this. He sometimes silently joins Gaz to watch, but no one knows why, or even if he has a favourite team/driver. Watching with him is like having a literal ghost in the room.

Price

● McLaren fan, but can't remember the newest drivers names. Mostly because he remembers the late 90's races most fondly. They played in the background in his childhood/early teens.

● Watched Senna live on tv, that's his favourite driver.

● Always took a passing interest in the sport, doesn't watch religiously unlike Gaz. Over the years he's seen bits and pecies of races.

● Supports Fernando Alonso the best because he's a familiar face. Price watched him win a couple times.

●When he sees Gaz watching the race, he stands there for about 10 minutes before realising he has something to do and goes on with his day.

SOAP

● Likes Daniel Ricciardo the best because vibes.

● He isn't much of a fan but likes to join in. All he does is try to annoy Gaz and Ghost (if he's present), then steal all the snacks.

● Dosent really have a favourite team. He's the most fun to be around, though. His reactions to crashes are priceless.

● Dosent really get how cars driving in circles can be entertaining but respects it. (Unless he's teasing someone about when lapped cars are allowed to unlap)

ALEJANDRO

● His favourite driver is Carlos Sainz.

●He doesn't have a favourite team per se, but more like a favourite driver. If you forced him to tell you, he'd probably say he likes Ferrari

● Constantly complains about Ferrari sidelining Sainz in favour of Leclerc.

●Aruges with Rudy about how Redbull are too good. (Rudy is a Redbull fan, having the time of his life)

FalloutNVxFormulaxCodxMolerats comingsoon alsotheotherthingtoo(hopefully)

#cod mw2 #call of duty headcanons #cod headcanons #ghost cod #gaz cod #captain price #alejandro vargas #john soap mactavish #f1 headcanons #I bearly proofread this #and im worried to post it.#call of duty headcannons

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pastrydragon · 2 days

Note

Can I ask for general relationship fluff hcs with your favorite Batman rogues?

How about some PDA headcanons?

Riddler

Will literally take time during his crime broadcasts to brag about his SO.

If they’re willing to play “Lovely Assistant” during his show he’ll even give them a quick kiss on camera if they do something he thinks is particularly cute.

Edward will dispense romantic compliments, hugs and kisses to his SO anytime anywhere.

Emphasis on romantic.

He’s kind of uncomfortable with sexual PDA, suggestive flirting and subtle touches are nice but anything too obvious will upset him.

He prefers to keep the details of his sex life private and enjoys being the only one who gets to see his SO that way.

Scarecrow

I wouldn’t go so far as to call Jonathan an exhibitionist but he definitely appreciates his SO giving him affection in front of others.

While few and far between, John has had some romantic relationships, but none of those people ever wanted to be with him publicly.

It was always “Too soon” “Unprofessional” or worst of all, “Embarrassing”

So when his current SO gives him a long kiss on the mouth in front of his friends he practically turns to goo.

He gets a little thrill when his partner gives him a kiss on the neck or grope on the ass in public.

Not because people are watching, but because it means SO thinks he’s desirable and is proud to be with him, it gives a sense of permanence to the relationship in his mind.

Mad Hatter

Most of the time Jervis prefers to keep his affections low key in public.

Unless of course he feels like someone is giving his SO unwanted attention. (Certainly unwanted by him at any rate.)

Jervis doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad possessive.

Preferably he’ll take a seat in SO’s lap and start kissing them on the cheeks and fiddling with their shirt collar.

The man is a menace and isn’t above salacious promises to get his SO to go home early with him if the source of unwanted attention won’t take a damn hint.

Alternatively he could simply hypnotize the unwanted attention into walking away(and off a short pier.) if his SO is openly annoyed at the unwanted attention.

Penguin

The only person on this list that refrains from too much PDA out of a sense of propriety.

Possessiveness, personal insecurity and a general preference for privacy are all reasons he understands perfectly well, but he’s mostly interested in retaining a certain kind of image.

He’s a man of class, charm and elegance.

He actively avoids crass displays and only engages in purely romantic interactions with SO while in public.

A light peck on the cheek or cooed compliment are both common displays from him.

He does enjoy showing his partner off to friends and associates just like any other prideful bird, but never in a a vulgar way.

Two Face

Harvey is a possessive bastard.

He does NOT like people leering at his lover for any amount of time.

Even if it’s because they’re being affectionate with him.

Harvey is the kind of boyfriend that rents private rooms at restaurants so he can hit on his date in peace.

It’s honestly a bit silly.

Harley

Harley wouldn’t know “modest” if it bit her on the booty shorts.

She’ll make out with her date in a public park at 2pm.

And it’s 50/50 whether she keeps it completely above the belt.

This women will say depraved shit that belongs buried in the depths of 2010 wattpad to her SO while in hearing distance of 20 different people.

No hesitation no regret.

She doesn’t even get off on it she just genuinely doesn’t care who hears, it’s honestly kind of impressive.

Catwomen

EVIL.

She’s not doing this for the pleasure of the act itself she’s doing this to torture SO specifically.

Selina will slide her fingernails from the top of SO’s spine and into their back pocket for a squeeze while no one is looking.

She’ll whisper everything she’s going to do to them later while no ones listening.

Then she’ll slip inside jokes about it into the conversations she’s having with other people just to fuck around with them further.

Finally, she’ll disappear into the night in the shadow of her broken promises… Until she shows up at SO’s house an hour later.

Poison Ivy

Very similar to Harley in lack of fucks to give.

She should be able to freely show her SO affection regardless of who’s there.

And woe to those who disagree with her.

Any complaints about her being “inappropriate” will be met with a handful of hay fever to the face.

And any cat calling or wolf whistling will be met with a garden pot full of death to the everywhere.

Music Meister

This man will go as far as his partner lets him, he’s pretty much done away with the concept of “socially acceptable behavior” since becoming a supervillain.

He was never a fan of that jazz anyway.

Besides the most extreme reaction he gets from fellow rogues to his shenanigans is to be told to “Get a room!” By Oswald.

Everyone else generally just rolls their eyes or teases him.

So besides outright having sex in front of someone he’s up for anything!

And hey, if it was the right person watching, Something could probably be arranged~

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quietwingsinthesky · 10 days

Text

youtube stop recommending me that five hour long “fall of doctor who” video challenge. there is not a video i could be less interested in watching.

#the youtube clickbait hyperbole is not doing it any favors. im sure there’s nuance in the video. maybe.#god there must be its five hours long.#but i do not think i am interested in a video that wants to be about ‘the fall’ of doctor who when. far as i can tell. seems more like #occasionally it stumbles. and that’s about it.#AND thirteen being the doctor that’s on the thumbnail is also not helping. im sure im making assumptions there too and its just that she was #the current doctor at the time but. this is youtube. you have a negative video. and you put a woman on there. i am primed to believe you are #about to say something insanely sexist lmao.#anyway. whatever.#its a me thing. i dont like watching negative epic teardowns™️ of stuff im not finished with myself. and doubly so when im unfamiliar with #the creator and don’t know if they’ll just be stomping and yelling at something for hours with no purpose or if they’ve got. anything #to actually offer. idk. it’s the shovelware lover in me i think. im not interested in someone’s negative opinion about a thing unless i know #they’re the kind of person who can respect that people still had to put months or years of work into it. maybe that work did not have a #good outcome but someone had to do it. the effort is worth being documented and looked at and not. i don’t know. yelled at like you’re the #nostalgia critic you know? im rambling on to much here #this is why the only good youtube video is folding idea’s video on the american tail video game. he gets it. its about how bad art is still #worth existing and being examined. and doctor who is far from being bad. so.#………..where was i going with this. its 4 am.

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theworlds-stage · 1 year

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Tbh I wish they had explained the reasons why King was willing to go on that arranged match in the series, though I'm guessing they are using it as a more powerful angst tool and according to my theory on the number of episodes it's going to be explained in episode 8. I'm pretty sure that at that point in the novel, King was already vocal about his main reasons, and it was simply Uea being filial that stopped him from understanding that King meant what he was saying.

Anyways spoilers in the tags if anyone is interested, because I need to talk about it 🤷‍♀️

#bed friend #kinguea #lets add something else in here so that no one gets spoiler what they dont want to know #also except for making ueas past even more awful they are staying very close to the novel.... also except for their first night #i will never not be angry about that first episode #anyways~ kings parents own a export company and they are successful #the mother is unfortunately very traditional and im afraid it is going to be added to the series as well #but she wants king to participate in running the family business #but hes avoiding that #he doesnt want to be like his brother who did everything their parents wanted and wants to live his own life #and love someone of his own chosing #but the mother is cunning #she goes to a matchmaker who incidentally choses a girl whos kust perfect for kingand who coincidentally is also the daughter #of an important business partner #so king cant outright say no #unless he wants to hurt his parents company #but he often assures everyone around him (hoping that uea would believe him)#that hes not interested in that girl #hes already also pretty open with uea about loving him #but uea is certain that king is just teasing him #so when king agrees to go on two dates #because hes making sure that the girl understands whats going on and that hes not interested #iirc that girl was also uninterested at had someone else at that point #unfortunately this all takes place when uea is stressed because of krit #and he pushes king away #and they clash because of uea going into krits office late in the night all alone (during ot)#and king does the biggest mistake - he decides to give uea time #there

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torgawl · 3 months

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sorry i can't take this chapter seriously the flying head took me out whekshej

#yuutas domain name also #i know it fits his character but omg let's tone it down on cliché and predictability a little please 😂#i didn't wake up at 5 am for this #i mean i was right about kenny's will but whatever it kinda fell flat #the thing about this being a jjk 0 inverse was right with yuuta defeating kenny and the cursed spirits attack which makes me think about my #rika theory may also be on the right track #but also we just know that having an exposed plan means it won't go this way #this is like who's more op yuuta or sukuna and it's boring and they both need a power down which i really think will come #and seeing sukuna look down on yuuji still only mentioning the soul punch not having the blood manipulation mentioned even though it was #hinted to be yuuji's... he's definitely gonna have a bigger role than just the last punch he has to #there's also the whole megumi thing #sukuna doesn't know yuuta and yuuji's goal was to save megumi to which yuuji conjured a plan #what was defined as yuuta and yuuji's plan doesn't means it is in fact their plan (or just their plan)#the two mcs against sukuna and power of love being the theme makes sense thematically but on god this was lame #anyways hoping for sukuna to take rika 🤞 rika having a second death/dispersal would also be very jjk 0 it just makes sense idk how #but make it happen or i will bite someone 😂#also i didn't comment but geto's body releasing the spirits makes no sense to me unless kenny wanted to emulate geto's attack to the school #and collected spirits for this purpose only but when did he even do that man #again... the stupid head flying was so fucking dumb idk what i imagined but it wasn't that #whatever gege i am gonna wait for next week and hope something interesting actually happens bye #sorry for being a hater but this chapter felt like a bunch of nothing thrown at our face even though the fight wouldn't really have #results in one chapter being who they are it still felt disappointing that just nothing interesting happened after such a long break too #and again.... WHERE THE HELL IS MAKI #there's also that part!!!! neither us or sukuna know what she's up to #maki save us save us maki #jjk leaks #still thinking about kenny's head she was an airplane...... 😂 what kind of cartoon reality was that #absurdism and surrealism in jjk as a theme but also what if something is just incredibly stupid 😭

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majimassqueaktoy · 2 years

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Will never get over Majima going back to the Tojo clan after finally breaking free 20+ years later just because Kiryu asked him to. Like... The loyalty. The love. Majima does have a good heart underneath it all. That doesn't negate that he's done bad things. That he's harsh and cruel and brusque... But he's does love genuinely. Too genuinely I think.

#See that's the funny thing about Majima like I'm not trying to woobify him but it actually would be so easy to lmao #like he's much more interesting to Not Do That #but fundamentally he doesn't fuck with civilians unless they fuck around first that is #He has strong moral stance around woman and kids generally...#He's an environmentalist #shjsadhjajfks sorry the environmentalism will always get me #He will knife attack you but like 🥰 its such a pretty knife #anyway- what I mean by too genuinely and its something I relate to is:#He will give someone he cares about the shirt off his back- would die for em... but like look where its got him.#Kiryu asking that was not right plainly. And I dont blame Kiryu fully- he doesn't actually know too much of Majimas story but he does know #that Majima's strong and trustworthy and decently moral compared to many others of their ilk- if majima said Kiryu i hate this i cant do it #Kiryu would not expect him to stay. The issue is that Kiryu doesnt realize Majima wont ever say that #He'll swallow lead and suck it up and fundamentally thats so goddamn sad #And again this isn't against Kiryu bc I know Kiryu's heart is good its just that Majima's is too #Kiryu is an idealist in a lot of ways. Majima's the realist that picks up the pieces.

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unmeinoniwa · 1 year

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♡ for Celine or Theo!

Send a ♡ and I’ll fill this out for our muses ! || accepting.

Celine:

FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic (for comedy purposes) / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .

ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .

FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .

ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .

Theodore:

FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .

#oldestking #✦ INTERTWINED paths. (answered.)#THANK UU FOR SENDING ONE IN -- I WILL PROMPTLY ANSWER THE OTHER ONES U SENT IOTIOGKJLGSDLJKDSKLJ #OH MAN ... THIS WAS A BIT OF A TOUGHIE CUZ OF HOW MUCH OF AN AUTHORITY FIGURE GIL IS #but tbh #celine? she does not care in the slightest and she will not hesitate to menace tf out of him #ON a more serious note #i think it would be interesting to see how gil and celine's dynamics would play out??? like #hes obviously someone who chooses to interact with those who are worthy to speak to him unless its important but #celine busting in like 'hey im interested in u so im gonna annoy u' but THE IDEA OF IT POTENTIALLY DEVELOPING FROM THAT INTO SOMETHING MORE?#i do think they'd have a surprisingly emotionally deep relationship #one that could potentially benefit the both of them and who knows #maybe celine will teach gil how to have some fun in ways he doesnt usually have fun LOL #THEO ON THE OTHERHAND ... I THINK THEO WOULD BE SO FREAKIN' FASCINATED BY GIL BC #U KNOW ... HIM BEING INTERESTED IN THE HISTORY OF THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH SORT OF THING #hes gonna ask sooo many questions sorry gil but also i can envisioning them having kinda a wholesome relationship #like one where thye can easily speak each other as equals and enjoy each other's company #theo is super pleasant to get along with HAHA

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medicinemane · 1 month

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I still argue that bleeping someone like Gorden Ramsey is bullshit so that people who love and find swearing fun can pretend that they didn't just hear him call someone a fucking donkey, because there was a bleep... like they don't know the exact word he used, like they didn't think it, and like they didn't have fun with it

Cause I bet you... any amount of money you want honestly, that if you asked Gorden Ramsey not to swear he just wouldn't... I don't think they ever bleep anything in shows where he's helping kids cook

No, people find swearing fun, it's entertaining... they just don't want to admit they like it because it's naughty

And to be clear I'm directly pointing to this and pointing to 'unalive' and drawing a line between them for how we got here

#you either don't swear or you do; bleeping is only for when no one's supposed to swear but it came out by accident #but 99% of the time; you can tell the producers wanted people to swear because their audience loves it #and at best they didn't bother telling them to keep it polite; and at worst they encouraged it #you know; I once when I was like 12 went with my mom to see Chuck D give a talk about stuff #and at the end when he went up he was like 'oh I'm so sorry; I didn't know there was a kid in the audience or I wouldn't have cussed'#and we assured him it wasn't a problem (didn't explain I'd know all of it since I was little)#(and I think to an extent even then I had a mentality of that I'd rather hear it how he was gonna say it normally)#but... he very clearly could have and would have simply kept a check on himself like everyone is capable of #and he clearly would have been more than happy to #it wasn't an 18+ event; it just was on a college and he expected adults only and talks how he talks #you can have zero naughty words most of the time... all you have to do is ask #and you can avoid serious conversations... it's polite to let people not be forced to engage with topics they don't want most of the time #hell; that's the whole point of trigger warnings #...I don't know; I'm forever fuming about this whole fucking topic #it's like a huge portion of humanity is willingly and gladly throwing shackles on #it's on thing not to say fuck; I respect the hell out of that #it's one thing to mind your words and subject; go for it #and it's also one thing not to want to listen to people swear #you know... I often do tone down how I feel like talking cause... I get some people following me might not like it... and I actually care #...it's just also... in the end this is my spot I dump bullshit out of my skull in a verbal vomit #so you get it how you get it... but like I get not wanting to hear it #but don't you fucking tell me you hate swearing and them sit their laughing at a bleeped bit from a show where someone's cursing up a storm #no you like swearing but you're just being a shifty self righteous prick that's pretending you don't to feel smug #and don't talk about death if you don't want to #but don't say 'unalive'; not unless you're meaning the opposite of undead and coming up with something interesting #if you're saying 'unalive' you're just a spineless fucker who can't even manage saying you'll kill a zombie in minecraft #(or a fool who doesn't get what you're going along with)

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jesterlaughingstock · 4 months

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"I want to date" thats so funny hahah this is a guy i've been flirting with for the last two years. True story

#laughing s og post #a glimpse into my real life #idc if he finds it #ive gotten to know his best friend this past semester and ive grown to hate him with a raging intensity #and i cannot see why would someone want to associate with him #unless they've got something seriously wrong with them #so. im no longer interested #ill find another cute 6'2 weirdo. no biggie. Aaaaaaaaa #vent #or perhaps #oversharing #wtv #prsnl

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javiscigarette · 3 months

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Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

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?”

"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."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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