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gloomskulls · 5 days ago

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LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 1

warning(s): dub/non consensual (reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs

Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.

The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.

Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.

He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.

Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.

He wanted you.

Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.

The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.

Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.

"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"

He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?

Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good

As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?

But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?

I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.

Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?

That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.

But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.

He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.

He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.

What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?

He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.

But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.

He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.

What if you didn't reply?

What if you did?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"

He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.

What happens next?

"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"

He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.

Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.

"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.

Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.

"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.

"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.

"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"

Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"

The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.

"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"

He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."

May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"

"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."

By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"

"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone

"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"

Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”

May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."

Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"

"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.

Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.

Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."

"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.

"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."

Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.

May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."

Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."

So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"

Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"

He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.

What if this is a mistake?

But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.

And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

There you were.

"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."

Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."

You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.

Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.

“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”

Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"

"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.

Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.

You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.

When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.

Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.

The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.

But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.

This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.

As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.

He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.

The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.

The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.

Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!

"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"

"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."

You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."

He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.

Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.

Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.

"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"

"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"

"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"

Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."

You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"

"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."

"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."

Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."

That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.

“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”

Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”

“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.

Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.

There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"

You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"

"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."

"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.

'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.

Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"

You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."

Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.

"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.

But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.

Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.

“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.

You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”

The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.

By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.

“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”

The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"

Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"

"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."

Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.

After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.

It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.

However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.

"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"

He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.

"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''

You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.

"I think that's really admirable, Peter."

That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.

Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.

"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."

But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."

But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."

"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"

You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.

The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.

So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.

"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.

After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.

"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."

You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."

Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."

As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.

"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.

You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.

"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.

Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.

"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"

You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."

Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.

Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.

Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.

"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.

Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.

"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.

"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."

Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.

Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."

His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.

"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."

Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"

Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.

"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.

"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."

His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.

"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit

You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth

This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.

He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.

He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.

Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.

Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.

One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.

You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.

Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.

As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.

Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.

Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.

Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.

Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.

His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.

You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.

"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.

"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"

He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.

You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered

The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.

Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.

He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"

Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch

Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"

He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.

Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.

"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

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revalition · 3 months ago

Text

OCT 10 - EMPATHY Understand others. Work your mirror neurons.

I really love this guy. Mostly. I rambled about it and then decided to shove it under the cut haha.

So as usual, tons of quotes and rambly commentary under the cut!

empathy!! I love him a lot, he has so much insight to offer. But. I will admit I did not like him at first!

probably not 20 minutes into my first playthrough, I'm on the phone with Sylvie. And yes, fail the empathy check... I'm like oooh no what is wrong with this empathy skill, it's completely broken... why is he *like this*.

but I give him another chance and accept the kingdom of conscience quest! which, uh, made me realize I hate moralism I suppose!!

And then we get to the tribunal... where he very nicely tells you to find a non-violent solution! so I once again. give him a chance (because the only one who dissuades me is half light, who I trust even less) and it ends up in several avoidable deaths... sigh.

he has so much good advice, and invaluable insights into other people. (esp. the working class husband side quest) and then there's these random bad bits mixed in - like all the skills I suppose.

He's like, look at this poor birch tree... and look at this poor dead fly... and I realize this guy is way too much like me. >:(

----

empathy fun facts! from my weird spreadsheet

- he's part of an exclusive group of 8 skills that restore more morale than they damage!

- he says sorry a dozen times and not a single one is directed at you! that's right, he does not apologize to you once!

- he says "we" more than he says "I" (only counting actually referring to himself, not quoting others)

- compared to the other skills I've checked so far, his swearing is at ~3/10 swearing amount edit!! empathy's score is 4.97... a perfectly average amount of swearing

----

here are empathyyy quotes!

this one obviously has to be here. empathy gives a few peeks into Jean's mental state

empathyyyy. interestingly, if empathy doesn't fire here, inland empire will say the exact same thing, word for word

empathy just knows, somehow. it sounds terrible.

kingdom of conscience empathy is so funny. the (only very slowly) at the end always gets me

these guys trying to save you from the evil phone call...

empathy during the tribunal!! at least he can admit when he's wrong... I really felt the limits of empathy's usefulness during my first tribunal. I trusted him and tried to do things peacefully and all that ended up happening was the gardener got shot and I ended up with a bunch of negative modifiers on the bomb throwing check. It's so easy to put some of the skills into the 'good advice' category and forget that they all have a really limited way of viewing the world, and that that impacts their decision making abilities... poor guy.

total annhilation :( as usual, this is in the last dream.

I don't think anyone who even slightly likes empathy wants to look at it, but the Love Quest has to be in here. empathy said it, it's real

these dialogue options...

it's sooo bad. the Love Quest is so painful. euuugh. Empathy is so *enthusiastic* about it too!!

lol.

this one's if you pass the empathy check and then pick the stupid dialogue options he warns you not to pick. you reprimand him sweetie!! empathy almost never reprimands you!

nooo not the cells :((

always love empathy insights into kim!!

another one <3 this one gives you the dialogue option to reassure kim that you'll be able to do it tomorrow

empathyyy :,( I hate (love) you

this is such a cool insight

empathy trying to steer you back... (also rhetoric using them??)

empathy picking up random weird stuff!

I really liked this one. And being able to visit the birch later <3

precious naive empathyy

these two haha

really like this one too. (I like the insects too empathy!! my sweet guy)

viscalc getting distracted by the coins *so* fast, and empathy not letting you forget what you just said haha

empathy is so surprised!

empathy! looking out for everyone

empathy making me feel bad for bringing kim into the room (with the help of savvy and endurance!)

this one's nice too

It really, really is.

Ending it on a sad one today. The working class husband quest is the one part of the game I just can't engage with, which is why lines from it aren't in here. Even though I think it's the place where Empathy really really shines. If you pass the check, it has the one really impactful line - he knows how important your words are, choose them carefully. The failure is incredibly painful too. It's really beautifully done, and I would have absolutely included many of those lines in here if I could.

Anyways, that's sadly 30! I put aside some other nice ones I can share later though. It's a bit hard to find the best of them because the way I usually search for stuff doesn't catch everything... Empathy has so many great lines <3

#skilltober #de empathy #de skills #disco elysium #rev art

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assortedvillainvault · 1 month ago

Note

hello fellow blitzwing self shipper, i love the way you write him and i am suffering from thoughts of HIM. If it's not too much trouble, could you do a scenario where Blitzwing meets an actual human witch who also has elemental powers and how does their eventual relationship develop? (reader is non-binary.)

Greetings brave comrade, and thank you kindly! We all suffer here, such is the way in the Blitzwing Simp Squad.

I’ve left this more of a cliffhanger on the start of the relationship because I couldn’t get this scene out of my head – this was a really fun one to do so ty for the ask!

Blitzwing x Witch!Reader

He blinked.

He blinked again, with a different face.

“Vhat the frag.”

His plating wasn’t even scratched, but there was no doubt – and yes he did reply his own memory like a broken record just to be sure – that you had just tried to set fire to his shins.

Frag this planet.

His optic twitches as Random hysterically chants ‘Same hat! Same Hat!’ from inside his helm, instead grinding his dentae and trying to stomp on the infuriating little squishy. Feeble jets of half frozen mushy ice splatter against his frame as you run away, clearly not well versed in your irritating fragging mimicry-

Is this a tech thing? A human thing? A freak run-in with the powers that be? Blitz has seen it all during the war but a tiny fleshling with his own powers was just a push too far.

He had to be torn apart and welded back together by a sadistic turncoat spider to get his outlier upgrades, you do NOT get to flaunt a barely passable mockery in his faces – now HOLD STILL-

Of course the Autobots pick you up before he can crush you. Of course you join the myriad weird aft costumed humans he can’t be bothered to pay attention to. Of course he thinks the pointy hat looks stupid. Random wants to pinch the top of it and twirl you like a spinny top.

Of course he finds you trying to sneak into the decepticon mines. Alone.

The two of you stare each-other down. Icy raises an eyeridge after 10 clicks of increasingly sweaty silence.

Eventually, predictably, you snap. “Take a picture 'Con- it’ll last longer.”

Blitzwing takes a moment to refrain from grinding you into paste. Instead, he tilts his head and smirks.

Your phone pings.

“You can’t be fucking serious-”

“Vhat? Like it’s hard?” he shrugs, taking a step forward and enjoying the way you fumble backwards, looking incredulously at the photo of you he sent over. “Do you not have cameras built into your optics?” he asks mockingly.

“Do you not have shit to do somewhere else?!”

He catches the way fire licks in one of your tiny hands. It already looks brighter and steadier than the last time he saw you. Frost glitters on the fingers holding the phone.

He grins and crouches as low as he can. “No.” he says sweetly. “Vant me to leave?”

Your eyes widen in alarm as you register just how much he still towers over you – all escape routes cut off, your phone signal suddenly dead. “Yeah, that’d be great.” you whisper hoarsely, feeling the flames you’ve managed to summon sputter.

His faces spin gleefully onto Random’s glowing, grinning features as both cannons swing down with a hiss of hydraulics and lock on your position.

“Aw, cute! Make me.”

#thalassa responds #tfa blitzwing #blitzwing x reader #transformers animated #maccadam #x reader #blitzwing my beloved #thank you so much for the ask!!#lowkey I think this is one of the best things I've written for Blitz #he's just so done and all 3 are going to play with their food for once

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folkookie97 · 1 year ago

Text

❝ drunk confessions (1) ❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝Jungkook was intense. An emotional mess in your life even after the breakup. But you couldn't help but miss all his chaos during those endless late nights when you were cuddled up with another man.❞

— PAIRING: ex bf!jungkook x ex gf!!reader (soft bf!taehyung)

— TYPE: angst | ex lovers!au, non-idol!au

— WORD COUNT: 1,738

— WARNINGS: argument, curse words, alcohol, toxic!jungkook, jungkook is bad at feelings, emotional infidelity, mention of sex, mention of bf!taehyung, based on From the Dining Table (Harry Styles)

— NOTES: jungkook as toxic ex bf kills me every time i think about him.

— RELEASE DATE: July 15, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3, wattpad, spirit fanfics

Your eyelids couldn't close. Stinging sensations arose in the waterlines of your eyes with every frustrated attempt to reach the sleepy darkness. Your own body defied the human need to at least take a nap.

You were screwed. You knew better than anyone how endless the early hours of the morning could be.

Your nightly sleep had been a mess ever since storms of thoughts and reflections became a routine for your brain during resting hours. You couldn't relax when your mind insisted on filling you with confusion by recalling all the conflicts of the past few months.

And most importantly: recalling that damn phone call.

The last one you had with Jungkook.

You remembered all the details. It was possible to feel once again how strong your heartbeats was when the phone rang that night. Your hands, sweaty with sudden emotion, struggled to answer the call as quickly as possible, afraid that something you had been waiting for so long might accidentally end up in voicemail due to lack of swiftness.

The memory of how the phone fell silent for long seconds as soon as you called Jungkook's name. A part of you was afraid that the call hadn't been intentional, just something like a misdial.

You two hadn't spoken to each other for weeks, and maybe Jungkook wasn't even planning to call you that night.

Even if that night was very significant to you.

To relieve the flutter, you swallowed hard at the mere thought that your enthusiasm might have been in vain.

A sigh could be heard on the other line when Jungkook's name was mentioned once again.

"I can't do this anymore, (Y/N)."

The girl's heart skipped a beat for a moment, and you could swear a buzzing sound echoed through the room.

"What are you talking about?" You asked.

"Me and you. Us. Our relationship is so complicated. A real mess..." The boy sobbed. You could feel that his voice was so broken as your heart.

"Kookie... if this is about our last fight, I'm sorry. It was such a stupid reason. I know, but I..."

"FUCKING HELL!"

The male scream echoed through the device, startling you not just because of a thunderous volume but also because it was followed by Jungkook's laughter.

A sarcastic laughter.

Lack of emotional intelligence in arguments had always been a characteristic of Jungkook's personality. He was a chaos. A hurricane ready to destroy everything in its path.

And lately you've been hating that habit about him.

Jungkook's intensity made you fall in love with him two years ago. But it had also made our love being so messy and toxic. Turning sunny skies into deadly storms.

There was no longer a sweet relationship for you.

"Can you hear yourself? You're almost begging me. That's because I wanna leave you. It's so pathetic. You're so clingy." He said.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you checked the time on your phone's screen, the hard brightness hurting your vision.

"Jungkook, I don't wanna fight right now. It's only ten minutes until my birthday. I thought you were calling to wish me an early happy birthday or..."

"Or what?" Jungkook laughed, his sobbing merging with the bitterness of his laughter. "Did you think I wanted to apologize for that day?"

"You said you were sorry..." You reminded him, biting your lower lip to suppress the waterfall of tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I used to feel. But only until I drank these two whiskey bottles and turned me into a tearful wreck." The sound of glass shattering on the floor was heard. Your desire to ask if he hurted himself was almost bigger than the urgency to keep your crying unnoticed. "Do you know why I'm drinking on a Wednesday night?"

You refrained from answering. His question was almost rhetorical, a pure melancholic rambling of a drunken human being.

So dramatic like Jungkook always used to be.

"I was with Lori today," Jungkook's confession triggered a pain in your stomach. Your effort to not vomit at his words was utterly depressing. "We saw each other, had sex like we always do. She's good at what she does. She always rides my dick and also looks like a porn actress when she's on her knees giving me a amazing oral..."

Maybe Jungkook would laugh when your disguise fell. You thought he would pause his monologue to mock how your sobs were constant and how pathetic you seemed.

Or maybe he would keeping rambling until the pain of your broken heart became unbearable and your brain convinced you to end the call.

However the thought of Jungkook crying like you were doing had never crossed your mind. Not even for a single second of your life.

He was sobbing like a child who got hurt on the playground; helpless and seeking the comfort of some trusted adult.

Before you could filter the words, the question had already escaped your lips.

"Why are you crying?"

And realizing the chaos inside his mind, Jungkook laughed again amidst tears. A sorrowful laughter.

"Because she's not you, (Y/N)."

The girl widened her eyes. The tears turned crystalline and your pupils dilated as Jungkook's words caused stumbles in your heart.

What was he trying to say? How drunk was he to lay his feelings bare for the first time since the breakup?

The anticipation of a confession pained your mind. A variety of scenarios emerged every second.

"I love you so much, (Y/N). I love everything about you. And this feeling it's killing me because missing you hurts too much." He sighed. The sound of breaking glass resurfaced and you swallowed hard as you picturing that scene. "When Lori told me she saw you yesterday, I swear I was desperate to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Yesterday she was wearing my old shirt..." You interrupted feeling a intense burning in your throat. "That Guns N' Roses shirt that you bought me in our first month of dating."

"You left it here at home and your damn scent was still on it. I needed a way to overshadow it and I..."

"Fucked your coworker."

Jungkook was speechless for a while. No comforting words could deny the injustice of the situation. He knew that you didn't deserve to see Lori wearing that shirt that had once been so special for both of you.

You didn't deserve to suffer through any of it. You didn't deserve to shed your tears or be broken-hearted for someone so unworthy.

Jungkook knew that you didn't deserve to be destroyed by the chaos he brought into others' lives.

He loved you. But he didn't know how to make you happy. He didn't know if he could ever fix your heart.

Was he selfish for wanting to try get your sweet love back? Was it too late for you two?

"Jungkook, I need to hang up."

His heart instantly broke at your warning and the formality in your words.

"(Y/N), please," The boy begged with a trembling voice. "You need to listen to me. I've been holding back everything I feel for you for so long, I need..."

It made you furious. You could even cry with rage.

"You've been holding all this bullshit back for a long time? Then keep holding it back for a little while longer." The words came out harsher than intended but you weren't in the mood to regret it. For the second time that night you checked the time on your phone screen and wiped away the tears from your cheeks with your free hand. "It's already my birthday, Jungkook. You didn't even call me to apologize or wish me a happy birthday. You just wanted to hurt me. Hurt my heart. My feelings."

"My baby, I'm so sorry. Fuck. I swear I..."

Your classic pet name pushed you over the edge.

"I don't wanna talk to you today." You admitted. "I love you. I swear I fucking love you. I love you much more than I would like and than I should."

You sighed hearing Jungkook cry. You were definitely not used to the pain you felt when you heard him cry.

"But I'm tired Jungkook. I'm tired of loving you and I'm getting tired of you."

"I love you, (Y/N). I just wanna try to fix things. I'm trying, baby. I swear I'm trying."

"I know, Kookie." At least you really knew that. "But I don't wanna deal with this whirlwind of emotions that you've been hiding for years. Call me when you're sober if you truly love me and really wanna try to fix things."

And in that early morning, when the clock struck 12h02 AM, you had your last call with Jeon Jungkook.

Your request for him to return with real sobriety not happened. Hypotheses swam through your mind over the next few months. Did he regretted the brief expression of feelings? Were the love confessions and desperate crying just a delusion resulting from alcohol?

You couldn't know the true cause for Jungkook's ghosting but the choice not to seek the truth haunted you at night, when your head rested on the pillow and your eyes were unable to close.

"Darling, are you okay? Why are you crying?"

With a slight startle, you directed your attention to the male body beside you. The young man had his long fingers wrapped around your waist tracing caresses on your bare skin.

His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed in a countenance that indicated excessive worry. He looked a lot like the guy you used to love.

Actually the one you still loved.

The name Jungkook almost escaped you in a tearful whisper.

"Yes, Tae. I'm fine. It's just... just a nightmare."

The man soothe you with a sweet smile and pulled you into a hug. It was a square smile different from the typical bunny smile Jungkook had. However the image of your ex-boyfriend remained permanent in your mind as Taehyung caressed your hair. Your heart hurts with the contrast between your thoughts and the cruel reality.

Both of they were extremely different yet had similarities that made your stomach churn.

And as Taehyung tried to pull you into a deep sleep whispering lyrics of romantic songs in your ear, you wondered if Jungkook's name would show up on your caller ID someday again.

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fairyhaos · 1 year ago

Text

❍ the 2k event: dino + swingset

alternative title: stupid adorable grin

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers

word count: 1435

warnings: none

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 (also @leejungchans pspspsps)

It's been so long since you've last seen your best friend.

You still live in the same area, but college pulled you apart, with you both travelling and having to dorm in different universities away from your home town, and it's broken your heart to be so far from him for so long.

So now, now you're finally on summer break, and the only thing you want to do is see his face break into that stupid grin whenever he sees you once again.

"Chan! Lee Chan! Turn around, you brat, I'm right here!"

Chan turns around in circles, phone up to his ear, looking for you confusedly. And then he spots you, running down the street towards him, and his face lights up in that stupid, stupid, adorable beam that makes you smile even wider and run faster until you fall into his arms, open and ready to catch you.

He spins you around in his arms, and wow when did he get strong enough to do that? Your phone is dangling in your hand, the call still connected to his number because you'd been too busy to disconnect, and all you can do is hug him tighter and yelp and laugh as your feet leave the floor.

"Oh my god," you breathe once he sets you down, not giving him a chance to talk. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" Chan says in disbelief. "Y/N, there's no way you missed me more than I missed you."

"What?" You cross your arms, frowning. "Never! I bet I missed you more."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

You frown at each other, matching expressions of annoyance on your faces, before eventually cracking, laughing and falling instantly into one another in a hug again.

"It feels like it's been forever since I've last seen you," Chan says, and that smile is still on his face, that bright, loving smile that makes your heart feel like it's going to burst. "You have to tell me everything that's happened since I last saw you."

"What, everything?" you say teasingly as he pushes open the playground gate, gesturing for you to walk in first. "Chan, I'm pretty sure I told you everything there is to know during our weekly facetimes."

He just laughs. "Well, I want to hear it again. In person, this time," he adds. "I like hearing you talk."

And, well, who are you to refuse?

The playground has been a sort of… cornerstone of your friendship, for you two. It was where you first met. It was where your friendship almost fell apart. It was where you met up, again and again, where you came to spend time away from the rest of the world, together or by yourselves.

It was also where you realised you were in love with your best friend.

The realisation had hit you, years ago, while chatting on the very same swingset the two of you were sitting on right now. It had shocked you, then, but only for a little while before the shock had faded away. Loving Chan was easy, as easy as breathing. Loving Chan was as obvious and inexplicable as the spark of light that fizzled in your chest.

"—almost died in her exam, but I did it anyway," you finish proudly. Chan watches you the entire time, that grin having never left his face, eyes wide as he listens to you intently.

"Oh, well done," he says, and claps dramatically. You bow your head regally, accepting his applause, and the two of you laugh. "And I expect you did really well on it as well."

You wince. "Okay, since I basically crammed in the two days before the exam and was all loaded up on way too much caffeine, I did… not that well," you say. "But I finished the exam! And I passed! Without killing myself! So I think, all in all, I did really well."

Chan laughs, eyes crinkled, smile big and beaming. "Well, in my eyes, I think you did the best out of the entire world." He ruffles your hair, voice going high-pitched in teasing. "My wonderful Y/N! You did so well, my cutie baby, you deserve all the praise!"

You brush his hand off, pretending to bite his fingers, and Chan just chuckles again. "Yeah, yeah, don't patronise me."

"No, but really," Chan says, laughter dying off, "I know how much you despised that professor. Props to you for getting through her classes. You did really well, I mean it."

His tone is so genuine, so sincere, and all he's doing is telling you something your friends back at uni have been telling you too, but it just feels so much more coming from him.

Especially when he's looking at you like you were the one to hung all the stars in the universe.

You duck your head, making a pfft-ing sound. "Oh, it's nothing. That old cow is just no match for the great and wise Y/N, you know?" you say, intending to elicit a laugh from Chan.

But he just smiles, tilting his head, and now he's looking at you like you're one of the brightest stars in the universe.

Damn this man and your stupid crush on him.

And then he tweaks your nose so hard that you squeak.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"My congratulations," Chan says, eyes wide in faux-innocence. "I was congratulating you!"

You eye him annoyedly, rubbing your nose. "Uh huh." You hold onto the chains of your swing, swaying backwards and forwards. "Anyway, that's all that's been happening on my end since we last spoke. How about you? Anything interesting happen that you haven't told me about through our numerous calls?"

Chan's smile turns a little secretive at that, something soft and mildly mischievous. "Maybe."

Your eyes widen. "Oh? Tell me, tell me!"

"Well," Chan begins, and he looks up at the sky thoughtfully. "I kind of realised that I…like someone."

And instantly your heart is swooping down towards the ground, crash-landing in a heap on the tarmac floor of the playground. "Really?"

"In fact, I think I'm in love with them," Chan continues, and now your heart is trying to burrow down through the ground into the centre of the earth. "I think I've been in love with them for a while. They're just so, so, sweet, so lively and bright and they make my days so much better." He laughs, tugging at his lips. "I just know that I get the stupidest, biggest grin on my face every time I see them."

"That's… nice," you choke out. Your heart has given up burrowing all the way to the centre of the earth and is just lying in a pathetic heap in the shallow hole it managed to dig. Maybe it can be its grave. "Do I know them?"

"Oh yeah!" Chan grins. "You know them really well!"

Well. Who else has Chan been talking to that you know really well?

You swallow. "Who… is it?"

Chan turns to face you now, and he has that stupidly adorable grin on his face, his expression lit up like a thousand suns, and there's so much love and gentleness in his expression that your heart perks up, thinking maybe, maybe, maybe…

"It's you," he says, and your heart is soaring again like it hadn't dug its own grave a few seconds prior. "I like you, Y/N."

You blink, astounded, and your heart is chirruping happily and your head is spinning and oh God, Chan likes you.

You're so at a loss for words that you don't say anything for several seconds, and Chan's grin falters.

"Y/N? Sorry, that was probably really sudden to spring on you. Oh, no, do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll take it back—"

And then you're launching yourself at him, in a clash of metal chains and knees and elbows, hugging him with all your might.

"Don't you dare take it back," you warn, and he laughs, adjusting you so you're more comfortable in his arms, hands securely wrapped around your back.

"Does this mean you like me too?" he asks, wow, wow you still can't believe he likes you.

"Of course, you dumbass," you say, hugging him tighter.

He laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. And then, after a moment: "Y/N, you gotta say it back."

"Say what back?"

"Say you like me too!"

"Oh. Me too."

"No, say it properly."

"Fine, fine. I like you too."

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wonyui · 2 years ago

Text

Nonsense — Y.J

PAIRINGS ; Yoo!Jimin x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY ; Late Night fun talks with your best friend turns into something more when she pulls a stunt that could possibly change the whole point of your friendship.

GENRE ; wlw, oneshot, fluff, beat friends to lovers, late night talks, non idol AU

"Karina?" Your best friend hummed in reply, watching as you typed your thoughts away into your laptop. "You do realize that my dormroom isn't for you to come and just hang in, right?"

She jokingly rolled her eyes and threw a pillow, somehow landing it into your face, despise doing horribly back in high school whenever the two of you would have p.e. It didn't hurt as expected, but your laptop had been closed when the pillow landed and forcefully closed it.

The older latter giggled, finding it a bit hilarious because that was the same exact blank stare that you gave her when she "accidentally" covered your face with lots of frosting, leaving you sulking and ignoring her the whole day. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for checking in on me. It's not like the pillow didn't just hit me in the face."

"I'm sorry." She tried to control herself by covering her mouth, but it only ended in a big fail when she laughed even more.

"If I fail this big exam, I'm gonna make sure my roommate doesn't leave the key doors for you." Karina stopped laughing, knowing that you weren't exactly lying about such a horrible thing.

"Speaking of Yunjin, what's she doing?" You chuckled, remembering how annoyed Yunjin was when she had talked about the blind date that her mom had set her up on.

About to respond, you balantly ignored her, reminding yourself that you had studying to do. The frown on Karina's face once again appeared for the 3rd time of the day, finding you to be a bit boring when you focused on things that were months away from even happening. "The exam takes place in a few months. You know that, right? Even I haven't started." You raised your brows, remembering the last score that she got on her exam. "Yeah, and who failed miserably because they didn't study?" Karina gasped, throwing another pillow just to miss and hit the frame that she gave to you as a gift.

"You seriously had to aim for the frame, didn't you?" Karina rolled her eyes, moving to help the frame up.

Luckily, it wasn't at all broken. Karina sighed in relief, putting it back and jumping right into your comfortable bed. Every time the two of you were alone, you would question how she was as popular as you were. Despite being an idiot who followed you around, it probably was because she looked the part, so it sort of made sense.

"You're insulting me in your head, aren't you?" She suspiciously raised her head after looking down from her phone to check the time, reading your mind almost instantly.

You fake pouted, feeling sarcastic at the moment. "I would do no such thing to my dear best friend."

She scoffed, wanting to kiss that stupid pout of your face. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not enjoying this."

"Hm."

"I'm bored."

"Oh."

"Are you even listening? Can you even hear me?"

"Uhuh.."

Karina huffed, trying to find some sort of way to get your attention without acting as though she's being too bothersome. The older latter crawled over until she rested well beside you, drilling holes mentally in hopes that you'd notice her frustration.

"You know you're really annoying," you shut your laptop, having no choice but to ditch it for the grown baby besides you.

"Yet you still tolerate and love me," She proudly defends herself, "plus that was like, the first insult you've ever thrown at me. Are you sure you really find me annoying?"

Unable to fight back, you sigh almost instantly before closing your eyes to calm your whole body after that 3-hour study session.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You open your eyes, taking in Karina's ethereal beauty.

Raising your eyebrows to question exactly what you were forgetting, Karina replies before you could even open your mouth to ask. "This is exactly the time we cuddle asshole."

"You're utterly insane. I don't do cuddles, and we never have done anything that involves cuddling." You retort, cringing at the idea of cuddling someone.

"Okay, well, can you at least sit up?" The thought of having to sit up for this maniac was too much to bear. But since it was Karina(who makes sure things go her own way), it was best to obey without any questions.

After doing exactly what she asked, you made sure to open your eyes as wide as it can go so it doesn't decide to doze off again. Karina silently watched as you put strands of hair behind your ears, coughing awkwardly to stop herself from staring too much.

"Let's talk about.. stuff," Karina trailed off, trying to think of a subject that could last a convo. "Like the people we have a crush on."

You scratched the back of your ears, hoping you at least heard it right. "And since when did we ever gossip about our crushes?"

"Aha! So you have someone you like?" She managed to trap you in one of her awfully annoying schemes.

Blankly staring at her to see whether she was being serious or not, you realized that she was, in fact, not joking around. "Um, no." She squinted her eyes, wondering if you were lying to her.

Shrugging and sounding almost uninterested, you made sure to clear up what god knows what stupid assumptions she was making in her head. "I mean, I don't have anyone I like."

"And why?" She asked, a little grateful that you had no interest in anyone. Even it wasn't her.

"Seriously?" You glared, questioning why she was so curious in your love life all of a sudden. "Fine, I just don't like having the thought of having someone that could possibly distract me."

"I distract you all the time."

"You're different."

"What? So you don't see me as a potential partner?"

"What? N- wait what."

Her annoying, proud smirk gave you nothing but negative thoughts. "Oh? I knew it."

You groaned in annoyance, hiding behind your hands. She was honestly a pain in the butt with the clever schemes that she always manages to pull most of the time.

"Are you crazy? I was tricked!" Karina shook her head, denying the fact she didn't trick you into admitting that she was a potential partner for you.

Laughing at your reddening state, she took your hands to make sure they weren't blocking your face. "Calm down, I was only joking." You glared, finding her jokes to be quite a handful at times. "Yoo Jimin.. seriously, you're annoying." She softly smiled, almost forgetting that she had been holding your hands the entire time.

"Let go of my hands," Karina instantly listened, this time she was the red one.

You were heating up, feeling a bit too shy to even endure the situation. Although she was sometimes weird, Karina wouldn't take her jokes this far, and it annoyingly worried you.

"Are you embarrassed?" Karina asked all of a sudden, watching as you repositioned yourself.

Cooling yourself down, you stayed silent. It wasn't that you were embarrassed, but it was because you didn't know exactly how to respond rightfully to that. "Not exactly." She sighed in relief, getting a bit closer for your liking. "Really?" The way she whispered felt a bit too illegal, sounding a bit too confident rather than worried.

"Karina, I'm not at all embara-" Before you could finish your sentence, a pair of soft lips managed to shut you up.

Looking for any signs of discomfort, Karina melted into the kiss after realizing that you weren't thinking about pushing her away. She softly moved the strands of hair that you had been struggling with, finding it to be a bother while in the middle of the kiss. Your hands interlocked, making the kiss a bit too affection. The two of you managed to kiss until there wasn't any more oxygen to take in, forcing the two of you to pull apart.

"I.." You were about to speak just for Karina to cut you off. "I'm not gonna ask how it was, but I hope that shows just how I feel about you."

"I'm sorry, Karina." Karina looked a bit sad, wondering what went wrong after the two of you had recently just shared your first kiss.

Leaning over to give her a peck on the cheek, you wiped the frown off her face. "I'm sorry for stealing your second kiss."

"That was kinda cringe." Karina jokingly pushed you away, feeling as though she could cry from the fact that you had just accepted her confession.

You softly kicked her, laying back down on the bed. Karina took her place next to you, forcefully making sure that she'd wrap her arms around you. Before you could wiggle your way out of her grasp, the door slammed open.

"Holy shit!" Your roommate, Yunjin, closed her eyes as if she had just witnessed something bad. "I'm sorry for interrupting? I knew I should have knocked what the hell."

You escaped Karina's grasp, glaring at the older latter before running over to Yunjin to explain what she had just seen. The younger latter clearly didn't believe the excuses you threw at her, closing her eyes and ears while walking away as an attempt to forget what she just saw.

"You're acting like that because you don't have a girlfriend!" Karina yelled before snickering, causing Yunjin to curse at her in English.

#karina #karina x reader #aespa #aespa x reader #karina x fem reader #aespa x fem reader #fluff #wlw #gxg #gg x reader #kcwonz #aespa imagines

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ivoryghostyy · 1 year ago

Text

「 image isn't mine. sourced from pinterest. 」

「 this was supposed to be a re-vamp of "love bite" but, well, i guess i got a bit too carried away. this one's pretty long, so have fun! 」

「 tw: possessive behaviour, swearing, non-consensual biting, mentions of blood, mentions/implications of violence — read with caution. 」

"don't touch that!"

crash!

"oops. :("

"oops? that's all you have to say- don't give me that look."

":("

"fuck you."

"ohhh, i like the sound of that-"

you groan in frustration, rubbing your throbbing temple. pieces of a broken flower pot lie carelessly on the tiled floor—a flower pot that was meant to house your newly grown Daffodils if someone could keep his hands to himself.

he frowns at your distress, snaking an arm over your shoulders to pull you in. his free hand rests snugly on the small of your back. right where it belongs.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. i'll get you a new one, okay?"

you shake your head, making your way through the array of potted plants within your shop. once your hand grasps the familiar wooden handle of your broom, you reply.

"no. it's alright. i can just order another one; it wasn't that expensive, anyway."

he hums, looking through his phone. at this point, you know he hadn't listened to a single word you said. he's been your closest friend for years. by now, he's probably-

"i got you a new set. they'll arrive in a few days. is that alright, honey?"

-already ordered another one. actually, he ordered more. you don't even need that many pots right now! you can feel another headache settling in.

"okay, whatever. what are you doing here, anyway?"

you sweep up the sad pieces of the flower pot, sending your Daffodils an apologetic look. 'i'm so sorry, my babies. i'll get you a new home soon, i promise.'

he watches the exchange, eyes squinting. you're no stranger to the look. you've seen it more times than you could count on two hands.

or, well, you assume that was the case. you're not really counting-

while you're cleaning his mess, the man in question leans idly on the counter.

'how strange,' he muses. he's seen the way you coddled your.. shrubs. for the last time, they're not shrubs!

maybe you were unknowingly born with the ability to talk to plants? or you simply have some form of connection with your babies, as you liked to call them.

or perhaps you've simply lost your mind ages ago, so you've convinced yourself that the shrubs- they aren't shrubs!!

-sorry, the not-shrubs could communicate.

wait, did you talk in his head?

you ignore his sudden confusion, opting to mourn over the loss of a perfectly good pot. fly high. you will be missed. after dumping the broken pot, you turn back to the insufferable man.

"you didn't really answer my question."

"what? am i not allowed to visit my favorite florist?"

"mind you, i am the only florist you know. besides, you're too busy to pay any unnecessary visits."

he laughs, muscles flexing as he pushes off the counter.

"alright, you got me. so you remember when i told you that i've found her?."

her? oh! he means his, uh, what did he call it? ah, right. his destined pair. pfft, that sounds cheesy as hell. why can't he be normal and say he fell in love?

"yeah? are you going to man up and tell her? you've been dancing around it for years; you haven't even introduced me yet!"

with a snort, he crosses his arms.

"well, sorry. i don't really find the need to introduce you."

eh? you take personal offense to that!

with a dramatic gasp, you clench the fabric of your top, right where your heart is.

"i've been your best friend for this long, dealing with your stupid ass for years, but you won't tell me who the love of your life is? i see how it is."

he smiles, "i.. don't think we'll still be friends after i tell you.."

what?

"don't tell me, is it my sworn enemy!? i can't believe you would settle for that-"

he denies it immediately, face scrunching in disgust.

"absolutely not. i would sooner choose to marry a horse."

you crack up at that, clutching your stomach as you laugh.

his eyes soften with a small grin. sometimes, he wonders what he'd done to deserve you.

you, with eyes that light up every time you see him. with that smile stretching your lips into a carefree curve; delighted and so full of life. you fill his heart with an immeasurable amount of love. if only you know what you do to him.

everything about you is so perfect. you're mesmerizing. you're his everything.

but he's not the only one.

just thinking of all the eyes who've dared to look at you..

his smile falls.

if only he could gauge their eyes out; or better yet, he could keep you all to himself. he'd mark you as his own, give you everything you could ever want or need. it isn't hard for him to do as he pleased.

but at what cost? you wouldn't be happy. you would hate him. but worst of all, he would hurt you.

and he couldn't hurt you. never.

and yet, as he watched a customer—another man—flirt with you, he couldn't help but rethink his choices. would it be better for him to take you, after all?

his eyes darken.

you're stuck.

after you had closed the shop, you were forced down.

he held your trembling wrists, firmly pressing them against the counter. 'his hands are cold,' you noted, breath hitching as he stared you down.

"look, i know i said 'fuck you' earlier, but i didn't mean for you to actually do so-"

"shut up."

you did.

he was mad, you could tell. frustrated, even.

why? did you do something wrong? were you being too mean earlier? did he find the secret stash of snacks you've been hiding from him-

you squeak when he hauls you up by the waist, fully lying you against the wide counter instead of the previous awkward position.

"w-wait, seriously, we can talk about this-"

you're cut off when he grips your chin, roughly forcing your eyes to meet his own.

"you know i don't like it when you avoid my eyes."

he's only an inch away from your face; his stare holds an intense wave of emotions. they swirl within his eyes, almost unreadable to you—but one stands out.

you lean your forehead against his, facing him head on. you don't avoid his eyes. you're not scared of looking directly at him, even in this situation. that might be another one of the reasons why he's fallen so hard.

"why're you hurting?"

his eyes crinkle as he grins. such a sweet human. no matter the circumstance, you never lose your heart. do you not find him threatening? he stares at the guilty little twinkle in your eyes. how can one be so cute.

you're not making this any easier for him, are you? he can barely control himself as is.

your eyes catch a glint, honing onto his sharp fangs.

what-

"ah, the cat's out of the bag."

his voice sends shivers down your spine, and unconsciously, you move back.

he doesn't allow it, however, as he guides you closer. his fingers draw up your leg, leaving a trail of heat despite the contrasting temperature of his hand.

he stops at your thigh, pulling it up to his hip.

he's so fucking close.

"i can feel you shaking, sweetheart. are you scared?"

you shake your head, but he's already caught the traces of fear that linger on your features.

"lying is a sin, love. weren't you the one who taught me that?"

the next moment is a blur.

he leans down, fangs poking the skin of your neck. dread settles into the pit of your stomach. the fear comes after; and then the panic sets in.

but it's already too late.

you whimper, biting your lip to distract you from the pure, unadulterated pain. your trembling hands find their way to the back of his shirt, tightly clutching the fabric.

you don't even realize that you're crying until he rubs your cheek, and you feel the tears sliding against your skin.

his fangs sink deeper, and the agonizing pain melts away, replaced with a growing heat in your abdomen. you stifle a moan, the metallic taste of your blood lingering on your bitten lip.

he keeps you against the counter, a hand tracing circles on your waist. suddenly, you're not scared anymore. your heart beats erratically, but you find nothing out of place. in fact, everything feels right.

a headache surfaces, and you groan into his shoulder as he pulls away. a drop of blood trails down your neck, but he licks it off. you shiver, feeling hyperaware of every movement.

he smiles at your dazed state. he rubs your head, pulling you closer when you bury yourself in his chest, nuzzling into his embrace.

his eyes trail down to the mark on your neck, and he grins with pride; kissing your temple.

you'll probably be mad when you're not dazed anymore..

no matter, he'll make it up to you later. right now, he can't wait to take you home.

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beardedjoel · 1 year ago

Text

closer | part fifteen

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: you try to hide the fact that you’re afraid of thunderstorms from joel, but he sees right through you, coming to your rescue at the perfect time. slutiness and cuteness ensue. 7.8k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, protective!joel, boyfriend asf!, consensual somnophilia, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink

a/n: this chapter means i’m up to date on all the chapters i have posted on ao3 right now, so my updates may be a tad bit slower than they have been on tumblr. ty for bearing with me i love u all ♡

You used to like thunderstorms as a kid. They were fun back then - watching the lightning and listening for the next claps of thunder. Running around outside as it poured buckets on you and soaked you to the bone. It was fun. And now, you’re twenty five years old and afraid of them, thinking back on how you got here as you cower slightly from the most recent flash of lightning outside.

Your second year living in Chicago, there was a storm that you got caught in while driving home from class late one night. You should have waited it out, but things took a turn for the worse once you were already on the road, and you ended up in a car accident where you lost control of your car and crashed it. You were too afraid to move, seemingly stuck in your car anyways with the seat belt locking, airbags deploying, the whole nine yards. You were lucky you didn’t have many injuries, just a broken arm and some bad bruising. To this day, it’s the thought of hearing the rain pounding on the pavement, your only memories being the flashes of lightning and sound of thunder while you waited for someone to help you that really sticks with you. You’ve tried working through it, and made great strides for dealing with the anxiety that comes up during thunderstorms, but it doesn’t mean it’s completely gone.

Of course your parents are out of town this weekend, too, so while you lay in bed, trying to distract yourself, the power cuts out, and you cower completely. You’re glad that you’d already brought Benny up here earlier to keep you company. You’re just laying in the dark, feeling frozen in your little anxiety bubble, unable to get up to even find a lighter and some candles to bring some light into your space. You’re going to have to force yourself to do it soon, but you’re trying to get past the shaking from the surprise of all your lights suddenly going out.

Your phone rings, startling you even further, and you see Joel’s name pop up on your screen. You feel reluctant to answer, not wanting to bother him with your stupid, juvenile fear. You reach with a trembling hand to grab your phone and decide to answer the call.

“Hey,” you say, a slight waver in your voice.

“Hey baby, I just got in and my power’s out. Is yours?” Joel asks, and you swallow hard, pushing down your emotions.

“Mhm, yeah,” you say into your phone. “It is.”

“Everything alright?” he immediately asks, quickly sensing the difference in your demeanor. Damn him.

“Y-yeah, everything’s good. Benny and I are just, uh, hanging in the dark,” you tell Joel, running a hand over Benny’s belly as he lays stretched out next to you. He’s anxious too, you noticed, not seeming to like the pounding rain on the windows or periodic thunder. Poor boy, at least you can relate to how he feels.

“Alright, then. Just checkin’ in.” You can hear Joel shuffling around in the background. “Lookin’ for some more candles,” he murmurs to explain all the noise.

“I should light some, t-too,” you say, feeling and sounding completely robotic. You’re out of it now, your anxiety with the storm trying to take you to another place where you block it all out.

“Wh- are you sure you’re alright? You sound kinda weird,” Joel replies.

“I’m not being weird,” you snap slightly, then bite your lip, not wanting to lash out at him unfairly. “Really,” you try to say reassuringly.

“If you say so…” Joel trails off, and you hear a small sigh. “Found ‘em,” he adds quietly, completing his search for some more candles to light.

“Actually, I should go, sorry. Benny is uh, whining. He’s scared right now, I think,” you say, despite Benny lying quietly at your side. Why the hell are you lying to Joel now?

“Okay, darlin’, just text me or somethin’, okay? Hope this power comes back soon,” he says, and you hurriedly tell him goodbye before hanging up.

There you go, blowing your one chance for an out from this anxious mess you’ve found yourself in. You know Joel would probably rush over here in a heartbeat if you’d told him, and for some reason, it embarrasses you that it would be for something that seems this silly. It’s just a storm, and while you remind yourself of that constantly, it’s too difficult to not let your mind go to that familiar place when you experience weather like this.

Not even five minutes later, there’s a knock on your door. You start, but freeze after, the sudden knock only heightening the tightness in your chest, and you realize tears are pulling at your eyes now. Fucking hell. You force yourself up, walking over to the door with ginger steps, trying to focus on the present. Benny is at your side, tail wagging between his legs skeptically.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” you hear through the door when you’re only steps away. Your eyebrows lift slightly and you close the gap between you and the door, swinging it open. Joel is standing on the landing outside of your door, completely soaked through and looking at you through concerned eyes. He takes one look at your crumbling façade, pulling you into him as he steps towards you slightly to keep you out of the rain.

“What’s goin’ on, hm?” he asks tenderly, his wet palms gripping your cheeks before wrapping around you completely.

“N-nothing.” Your face gives you away, eyes completely doe-like and fearful as you come down a bit from your anxiety when you feel his arms around you. You don’t care that his wet shirt is soaking right into yours now, you just need to breathe him in for a moment and everything will be ten times better already.

“Swear, if you don’t admit you’re afraid of thunderstorms to my face right now…” Joel says, slightly scolding but only because he cares, you know. Your eyes widen, hating that once again, he’s got you all figured out.

“Yes…” you reply, sagging your shoulders in defeat. “It’s s-so stupid, I d-didn’t want to tell you, it’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it? Look at you, you’re shakin’, baby.” Joel pulls his head back and looks you up and down. Benny nudges both of your bodies, curling up against your legs, and Joel smiles sweetly down at him. “I’m takin’ you both with me, c’mon.”

Joel grabs your hand and turns to walk away, but you hesitate, his grip on your hand tight yet you stand firm and unmoving. Joel shoots back a look and before he can even ask or you can protest anything, he swoops you up under the knees and holds you, carrying you down the stairs. He calls after Benny to follow, and despite his own anxiety, Benny trails you, likely making sure you’re okay - he’s always been a good protector like that. You’re instantly soaked, the rain hitting all of you in hard droplets, and you tilt your head down into Joel’s chest to avoid it getting in your eyes. A clap of thunder roars above as you enter into Joel’s yard and you tremble, your breathing shaky for a moment.

“Shh,” Joel murmurs near your ear, “Almost there.”

He rushes to his house and slides open the back door. You’re immediately welcomed by glowing candlelight all through the kitchen, and you can see past into the living room to see Joel has lit several candles in there as well. You feel an immediate sense of relief seeing the calming, flickering lighting and feel your body sink into Joel’s arms. He sets you down in a kitchen chair and steps back, taking stock of you and Benny in your soaked state.

“One sec,” he murmurs, walking off and returning with a towel before crouching down and rubbing Benny all over with it. Benny pants happily in Joel’s face and he cracks a smile when the chocolate lab shakes off some extra moisture all over the two of you. You manage to feel a smile tug at your lips now too, feeling like the worst of this night is over now.

“Your turn, darlin’,” Joel says, standing and taking your hand. “Let’s get you some dry clothes,” he adds, guiding you upstairs to his bedroom.

Joel grabs another Texas football themed shirt from his dresser before walking over to you, helping you undress before you get the chance. As he reveals your bare chest, he barely makes note of it, and you appreciate his gesture to make you feel safer. He slides the t-shirt over your head and then smiles down at you.

“Shorts next,” he tells you before tugging them down and tossing them in a pile with your wet shirt. He hands you a pair of his boxers, and you slide them on, and although they’re ill fitting, you adjust them until they’re able to sit comfortably enough on you. You sit back on the edge of his bed and smile appreciatively while Joel gets to work changing his own soaked clothing. The view of Joel damp and shirtless is almost enough to make you forget your unease from this evening, and Joel gives you a cheeky smirk as he notices you admiring him.

“Now isn’t that a sight,” he comments as he sees you lounging on his bed, clad completely in his clothes.

“This?” you ask incredulously, motioning to the baggy boxers and shirt you’re wearing.

“Never looked better, if ya ask me,” Joel says, throwing a dry t-shirt and athletic shorts on. He approaches you on the bed and leans down, kissing you on the forehead, his smell breezing past you as he does it, leaving you sighing quietly. “So sexy in all my clothes,” he adds, pulling his face back to look at you again, giving you a wink.

“C’mon, let’s head back downstairs and keep Benny company,” he suggests, and you follow him back to the living room where Benny is laying down next to Joel’s couch, clearly exhausted from the storm that continues to rage outside. Joel pulls you down so that you’re settled onto his lap, and you instantly curl into him, the warmth coming off of his body a welcome sensation despite the house starting to heat up without the air conditioner running.

“Alright, talk to me baby,” Joel says, curling his arm around you and rubbing your back.

“Promise you won’t think I’m dumb?” you ask him timidly.

Joel shoots you a wry look and tuts. “Promise.”

“I just… get anxious during storms now,” you pause to swallow hard, readying yourself to dig into the bad memories. “I had a really bad car accident a few years ago and it was during this huge thunderstorm. I-I was waiting for ages, I was too scared to move and reach for my phone at first, not knowing if I’d broken anything. A-and the seatbelt was stuck, so I just had to sit there and hope someone found me until I was able to finally get to my phone...” You stop, gathering yourself and biting inside your lip anxiously. “I was waiting and struggling for ages just listening to the rain, and I just get this irrational anxiety that comes up now when the weather is really bad like this. I don’t know…” you trail off, feeling a few hot tears brimming your eyes now.

“Hey, hey it’s alright. That ain’t irrational, makes a lot of sense to me,” Joel says reassuringly, continuing to gently stroke your back and shoulders.

“There’s a part of my brain that knows it’s irrational, but the other part just

“This weather just puts me back in a bad place sometimes. It doesn’t happen with every storm, but especially when I’m alone,” you say with a small, defeated shrug, concluding your explanation to him.

“Okay, now that I know that, I can help you out baby. Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?”

“I felt embarrassed, Joel. I don’t tell very many people about this since I just feel totally crazy and irrational when it comes up. I mean what kind of grown adult is scared of thunderstorms?”

“Someone who went through somethin’ scary like you did,” Joel replies in a heartbeat. You sigh and lean your cheek further onto his shoulder.

“Yeah… I guess so,” you reply skeptically. It’ll take more than his words to change your mind that it’s not an overreaction, but knowing he believes in you is a huge step.

“S’alright, not a bit of judgment from me darlin’, promise,” Joel says sweetly, giving you a squeeze. “I’m afraid of cockroaches,” he admits sheepishly, and you chuckle.

“See? There’s my girl.” Joel pokes his fingers into your side, sending you squirming and laughing. Just the mention of those two words you love - my girl - immediately lightens the tightness in your chest.

“Everyone is afraid of cockroaches, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you murmur, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his neck.

“You need to eat? We’ve got to eat some stuff in my fridge before it goes bad,” Joel says, and you perk up a little. “Wait, I’ve got just the thing,” he says before nudging you off his lap and onto the couch. You sit and wait for him to return from the kitchen, where he brings over a carton of ice cream.

“S’gonna melt, so we better go for it,” he says, offering you a spoon. You take it with a grin and he sits down next to you while you both dig into the already half melted ice cream. You sit back a little, draping your legs across his lap and he instantly starts running a hand along your shins and thighs. The ice cream and Joel’s presence is already immensely helping you ride out this thunderstorm, which is already seeming to lighten up a bit outside.

“So…” you say nervously, “I’ve seen your guitar in here every time I come over, but I’ve never heard you play…”

“You askin’ if I’ll play for you?” Joel asks, a cocky smile on his lips.

You bite your bottom lip and nod slightly, glad you don’t have to say it so directly. You’ve been dying to ask him about it for weeks but were worried about putting him on the spot.

“I’m not anythin’ to write home about, but I can certainly strum somethin’ up for you, darlin’,” he replies, and your heart melts a little when he stands up, handing you the ice cream to finish off as he picks up the guitar.

You sit patiently as Joel plucks at the strings, checking the sound. He sits himself in the same spot next to you, giving you a last glance before he starts to play. As it goes on, you realize you don’t know the song, but it has a relaxed, old time country sound to it. You feel completely mesmerized by it already, the way he looks down at the guitar with concentration, his fingers deftly moving along the neck as he strums. Your heart lurches, an undoubtedly lovesick smile on your face.

As if you weren’t already about to burst, Joel starts humming quietly along with the song, his eyes closing as he loses himself in it. You relax back into the couch, letting the beautiful music he’s creating lull you into a further sense of security. Now that you’ve calmed down enough to see straight, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sleepiness that’s coming over you now.

You stifle a yawn and let Joel keep playing as your head gets fuzzy and your eyes start to blink more and more slowly. After a few songs, Joel stops playing, and you force your eyes open despite how tired you are and see him putting his guitar back on the stand.

“‘M gonna go to bed,” you murmur sleepily, stretching your arms up over your head a bit before sitting up.

“M’kay, darlin’. I’ll be up in a bit, you head on up there though,” Joel replies, planting a kiss on your forehead. He helps pull you off the couch, gently patting your ass as you move past him, and you shoot him a wry glance before walking up the stairs.

You use your toothbrush that Joel still has set out for you, and it makes you smile all over again. You can’t feel anything but grateful for everything he’s done for you tonight - you’d probably be having a restless, sleepless night if he hadn’t intuitively come and rescued you. You barely even remember your head hitting the pillow, your anxiety having knocked all the energy out of you this evening, before you’re fast asleep.

You wake up suddenly, a light gasp escaping your mouth as you sit up, trying to shake off your unsettling dream. You aren’t surprised by it, you tend to have strange dreams when your anxiety is high like it was tonight. You suddenly shiver, realizing the air conditioning is back on and Joel’s power must have come back while you two were sleeping. You burrow yourself under the covers a bit more to warm up and look over at Joel. It’s not often you get to watch him sleep, he tends to wake up before you when you spend the night together. It’s amazing that he manages to be an even earlier riser than you.

Your eyes soften as you look over him in the dark, bare chest dusted with hair rising and falling gently and his mouth slightly open. You suddenly feel a pull between your legs when you notice that there’s a small tent at his hips under the thin sheet, and you curl your toes as an image of his hard cock flashes through your mind.

You suddenly don’t think Joel would mind at all if you were to thank him for everything he did for you tonight. You don’t want to wake him just yet, so you slowly reach your hand over and cup the bulge in the sheet gingerly, rubbing ever so slightly. A small moan comes from Joel’s throat as he stirs slightly, but he immediately stills back into sleep as you continue to stroke him. You dare to do it a little harder, and Joel shifts again, but you can tell he isn’t quite awake yet. You smile deviously to yourself, finding that this turns you on more than you would have imagined. You try to reposition yourself without shaking the mattress too much, scooting closer and pulling the sheet down. You can now see that Joel has gotten significantly harder, straining against his briefs while you stroke your fingers along his lengthy shaft. You have to bite down to fight off the moaning that’s now on the tip of your own tongue.

Joel murmurs your name in his sleep, and your eyes go wide, thinking maybe he’s woken up, but he’s clearly just thinking about you in whatever horned up dream he must be having, and that makes your smirk grow even more. You have to fight off a giddy laugh now at the thought of it.

You slip your hand under the waistband of his briefs, caressing his warm, hard cock in your hand as you fist it, running your hand along the length as you position yourself in between his legs. Your hands hook around the sides of his briefs, pulling them down and exposing his throbbing cock to you, a drip of precum already leaking out from the light touching you have been doing. The power you hold over this man right now… the one who typically holds all the cards, the one who tells you what to do, is mesmerizing. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand, quite literally, and plan to do nothing but pleasure him until he wakes up to himself coming into your mouth.

As you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, Joel’s hips writhe and he stirs a little more, a deep groan sounding from him when you take your mouth over the head and plunge it down further. You gather spit and push your mouth down, drooling all over his cock and taking it deeper and deeper.

“Wh-” you hear from above you, and you smile around his cock as you realize Joel is at the least half awake now. He breathes your name in questioning, his head tilted off the pillow and looking down at you. You glance up at him while continuously taking his cock over and over into your mouth in slow, even strokes. You pop the head out of your mouth and lap at it a few times, causing Joel’s hips to twitch up.

“Shh, just relax and try to go back to sleep. Want to say thank you for tonight,” you coo, immediately taking him back into your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the bottom of his shaft. Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he leans his head back again and groans at the sensation of your warm mouth.

“Baby,” Joel murmurs with a little pleased grunt, giving in easily and letting you take the reins for once.

He’s throbbing, already satisfyingly close to release as he sleepily pumps his hips up into each stroke of your mouth. You pull your mouth off and lick strokes up his length, flicking your tongue as you go, and he just about loses all control as he hisses through his teeth. You sink your mouth fully onto him, taking every inch you can to the back of your throat and Joel starts, sitting forward and grabbing the back of your head, bucking his hips up into your mouth as he comes hard, groaning your name while his warm seed spills deep into your throat. You relish every moment of it, swallowing everything he has to offer you with pride. Joel’s body goes limp, flopping back onto the mattress, his chest heaving and limbs spent.

“Jesus, girl,” he utters, running a hand over his sleepy eyes and down his face. You tuck him back into his briefs and slip under his arm, resting on his chest. “What was that all about, huh?” Joel asks, cozying up to you.

“Like I said, I was saying thank you for tonight. You helped me out, so I helped you out.”

“Helped me out…” Joel echoes with a drowsy chuckle, his eyes blinking shut slowly. “Funny girl.”

Joel’s breathing evens out, and you think he may have fallen back to sleep, when he suddenly speaks out into the darkness of the room.

“You know you can talk to me, right baby? Don’t hide yourself from me,” he says, opening his eyes again, a slight pain in them at the thought of you feeling the need to do that. You blink a few times, trying to avoid the tears that are threatening in the back of your eyes at his sudden declaration.

“I’m not trying to, I swear,” you start to explain. “I just knew you’d go out of your way if I told you the truth earlier.”

“And didn’t I anyway?” Joel asks.

The corner of your lip turns up and you nod.

“Cause I know you, darlin’. Always easy for me to read you,”

You furrow your brow, frustrated by that fact considering you find Joel hard to read a majority of the time. You tense up, about to protest what he said when he cuts you off.

“‘Fore you get all huffy it’s no offense, it just means I’m payin’ attention to you,” he explains, and you settle down a bit, running your fingers along his bare shoulder and upper arm.

“Well when you put it like that…” you say, giving up your angry facade completely.

“Dunno if you noticed but I’m awful protective, it’s not always a good trait. Sometimes it helps, like tonight, other times…”

“You end up fucking me against a wall because another boy talked to me?” you add cheekily, and Joel looks playfully taken aback.

“Oh she’s gettin’ mean now,” he chuckles hoarsely, “But fair point. It’s gotten me in trouble before.”

You bite your lip, debating on digging into what he said further. What kind of ‘before’ could he be referencing?

“Like… with other people? Women, I mean?” You surprise yourself by asking before you can think about it any longer.

Joel nods slightly, a smug smile on his face. “Yes baby, and we both know that gets you jealous.” You open your mouth to speak, and he cuts you off once again. “Don’t even try to deny it, sweetheart.” You concede, snapping your mouth shut and letting him carry on.

“I’ve been known to be a jealous boyfriend. Some people like it, others… not so much. Simple as that.”

You find yourself reeling for a moment at his choice of wording. Boyfriend… Your eyes peer out into the dark room, wide and searching, debating how to respond to him.

Joel must read the look on your face as he glances at you and he starts to backtrack. “Now darlin’, don’t get too excited, I just meant, in my past relationships.”

You clear your throat, trying to hide the disappointment from your face. “I-is that what you’d call this, then? A relationship?” You don’t mean to, but you know your eyes are full of a pleading hope, desperate for the answer you’ve been craving from him for so long.

Joel releases a sigh, clearly still warring with himself over it. “Listen, sweet girl, I had some… stuff happen before. The woman I was seeing, she and I started to not see eye to eye on things. I held her back, if I’m honest. Or so she thought, I guess. Things got real resentful, and I can’t go through that sort of thing again, y’understand me?”

Things are clicking into place, your mind beginning to race with all this new information. That’s exactly where Joel had gotten this wording from about holding you back - it must have been spit in his face by his ex once things reached that resentful place he was talking about. You would never be like that, you think solemnly - you could never resent Joel, he’s done nothing but bring joy into your life since you first saw him.

“Y-you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want t-to, I’m sorry,” you half mumble, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing up something painful for him.

“‘S’okay, angel. That’s not the point. It was a long time ago, and yeah, it does hurt to think about, but just ‘cause I can’t do that to someone else I care about, y’hear me?”

You nod, not sure you know what you’re agreeing to right now. “O-okay. I don’t think you’re holding me back, Joel. You make me… really happy.”

“I see that, baby. And that’s why I worry. I don’t want my selfish shit to get in your way if we do this thing. Ever. You’d have to promise me, at the first sign of it, you’d go running from my ass.”

You blink hard, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. You’re hardly even able to comprehend the second half of what he said, fully stuck on the joy rising in your chest at his imposition. “If we do this thing? Wh-“ you start, lips trembling slightly as you try to get the words out.

“Yes, darlin’, if this ain’t a relationship by now, I don’t know what to call it.”

You press your lips together to fight it but a sparkling smile breaks through, spreading across your whole face now. Joel closes his eyes and sighs at the sight, knowing he’s just agreed to his own potential downfall. He still isn’t managing to hide the little smile pulling at his lips despite his worries.

“Easy, now,” he says, letting his smile crack through the facade even more. He leans over and slides his hand around your cheek, pulling you closer as he finishes closing the gap between you and kisses you. You kiss him back softly, relishing in the feeling of it after this new confirmation from him. When Joel pulls away, there’s a beautiful, soft look in his eyes.

“My girl,” he says quietly, gaze locked onto yours. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you say breathlessly, and you mean it wholeheartedly. You can’t imagine being anyone else’s, feeling the constant, burning passion and care that you do for Joel for anybody but him.

“You okay with me being a jealous, possessive bastard? Needin’ to fuck you half to death every time anyone gets any ideas ‘bout you? Barely able to keep my hands off you around everyone else to remind ‘em you’re all mine?” Joel lists off, his voice growing hoarse with need as he looks at you hopefully with a sly smile.

“God, yes,” you breathe out. Even hearing him describe those situations makes you ache between the legs, and you know he’s going to the absolute death of you. “I fucking love all of it - we were made for each other, Joel. Let you do anything you need to me any time if it means I get to remind you I’m yours,” you say, hips lurching towards him as you feel slickness gathering in your underwear.

“Oh, really? Anything any time?” he repeats back to you, his features a shade darker now.

“Mhm,” you murmur with glazed eyes. “I’m all yours to play with,” you tell him, and Joel tenses next to you. You slide a leg over his, turning closer to him, your body begging for any kind of touch from him. Joel goes to reciprocate and lean into you but stops short, pulling back slightly.

“Wait, darlin’. You gotta promise me what I said, though,” Joel says, sobering up a bit. You look into his eyes and dip your head in confirmation.

“Say it,” he demands, and you wince a little, desperation clawing at your insides.

“J-joel, I don’t want to go running from you. I won’t let you keep me from living my life. P-please, please just let me be yours,” you beg, not caring how helpless and vulnerable you sound right now. You want this more than anything you can ever recall wanting, just for him to call you his and mean it in a real, tangible way. You gulp down the sob that wants to come out of you, blinking and sniffling quickly to try to hide it.

“Okay, okay, sweet girl. I’m sorry. I just care so much about ya, you know that, right? I’d never want to make that same mistake again.” Joel’s hold on you tightens as he sees how much this is affecting you.

“I know,” you tell him, pressing your forehead to his. “You will never be a mistake to me, never. Couldn’t ever regret being your girl,” you say, liking how the words sound spilling off your tongue. Joel seems to be appeased by your words and believe them, because his features quickly melt back into a soft, heady gaze as he stares into your eyes.

“You like bein’ my girl, hm?” Joel asks, voice low and slightly scratchy. He brushes his lips across your cheek and you breathe out shakily.

“Mhm. Every time you say it, I feel… so…” you trail off with a little smile, unable to even find a word to express it.

“My girl,” he whispers next to your ear, and you giggle at the tickling sensation and joy his words bring you. “I’m thinking,” he says, placing a kiss on your neck right below your ear, “we should,” he continues, another kiss closer to your lips on your jawline, “celebrate.” His lips find yours and you kiss him feverishly, barely letting him come up for air as you slide your tongue into his mouth and flip your body on top of his, sinking down onto him.

“Yes,” you say simply, finally releasing your lips from his. Joel smirks, his eyes glistening with lust for you as he notices every curve of you press against his mostly naked body.

“So eager when you get what you want, aren’t ya?” he says, the sparkle in his eye turning devious as his hands grip your hips, pulling down so you grind against his quickly hardening cock.

“Don’t have everything I want yet,” you reply, pushing your center onto his cock again, and Joel groans at the warmth radiating off your core through your clothes as you brush over his cock.

“About to rip these fucking clothes off of you, my insatiable little thing,” he grunts, immediately diving into the demanding, possessive persona you’ve grown accustomed to when he’s turned on.

“I’d like to see you try,” you squeak out quickly before hopping off his lap and using the bed to bounce yourself down onto the plush carpet. You giggle as Joel’s hand reaches out and just misses to grab you and pull you back to him. He growls, low and deep in his throat as he sits up and quickly launches off the bed, coming right for you. You dart around the room on light feet, Joel’s lumbering form struggling to keep up with you.

“The things I’m gonna do when I catch you, sweet girl,” he says, a sinful smirk on his gorgeous face, “You’ll wish you never tried this little stunt.”

“What, gonna punish me with your big cock?” you quip back, giggling like a mad woman as you hop up on the bed and sprint across it, heading for the bedroom door. Joel simply growls again, laser focused on his mission to get you back in his arms.

You dare a glance back and Joel is close on your tail, but you’re already on the stairs, halfway down them when a large arm wraps around your waist, stopping you mid run and nearly knocking the breath out of you. You haven’t stopped laughing throughout the entire chase, loving how worked up Joel was over the whole thing, but it’s cut short as your torso slams into his arm on the impact.

“Got you,” Joel says, menacing and quiet, tucking his arm tighter around you and pulling you into his chest with a thump. You don’t have a moment to catch your breath, being suddenly spun around, Joel’s large hand on your chest forcing you down onto your ass as you sprawl back on the stairs. Your chest heaves with excitement when you look at Joel standing above you on a lower part of the stairs, keeping your body down with just his hand alone as he snakes his arm out from around your waist and uses that hand to yank his oversized shirt you’re wearing up and pull down your boxer shorts and underwear. He kneels down, his cock out moments later, and he tugs under your thighs to pull you right into him as he slams his throbbing, dripping cock right into you without any preamble. A loud, guttural noise flies out of his mouth while your own breath is caught in your throat feeling him fill you so quickly. He’s moving already, barely giving your body a moment to register the sheer thickness of him. His eyes are flooded with untamed, savage energy as he delivers his discipline upon your body, recklessly thrusting in quick, sharp thrusts.

“J-joel,” you whine out, still unsure if the walls of your cunt are adjusting to him. Everything feels so tight and raw, your whole body tense from the way he’s moving.

“Don’t wanna hear any whining,” he grits out through ragged breaths. “Take my cock and be a good fucking girl about it.”

You whimper, his words sending your walls clenching around him and another rush of wetness coating his cock.

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, feeling how slick you’re quickly getting, pussy squelching under him with pure need. He pulls out so quickly your body shudders upwards several inches, confused by the swift change before Joel manhandles your hips roughly and flips you onto your hands and knees, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself on them.

“If you thought that was a punishment, sweet girl…” Joel ambles, stroking one finger down your spine, sending your whole back spasming under his touch. “Look at how you fall apart for me…” Joel purrs. “What would it take… to break you, hm? Have you beggin’ for me to fill you again…” You’re equally fearful of and turned on by his twisted tone and the look on his face as you glance over your shoulder to give him doe-like, pleading eyes. His hands grip each of your ass cheeks, kneading them roughly before delivering a hard smack onto one of them.

“Nothing… I-I’m begging now… Joel, p-please,” you cry out softly, praying he’ll listen.

“Lucky I’m feeling generous for my girl tonight, aren’t you?” You nod furiously, popping your ass in his face slightly as your hips writhe for his touch between them. “Even after that little stunt you pulled…”

Joel’s finger explores your slit now, gently sliding down it and to your entrance, swirling a teasing finger. “Could fill this drippin’ little hole with my cock, is that what you want, baby?” he purrs as he teases your entrance with the tip of his finger, pushing it in.

You nod quickly again, knowing he likes it when you’re eager and begging. “Fill me, fill me Joel,” you say desperately, fingers clawing into the carpet on the stairs. Joel’s other hand trails down your back with light touches from the tips of his fingers and you whimper, your entire body shivering with the tantalizing touch.

“Ain’t gonna say please?” Joel asks as his hand reaches your ass, squeezing hard enough to leave a mark.

“P-please,” you correct yourself hastily, swallowing hard, feeling your body starting to break out in a sweat with the animalistic need you’re feeling for Joel right now.

“Good girl. That’s better.” He smirks, withdrawing all touch from you as he repositions himself behind you, his hard cock beginning to push in between your legs devastatingly slow, and as usual, you find yourself impressed with the restraint he can have when you’ve never been able to resist a single thing he does to you. Once again without warning, he slides himself inside of you, pushing up to the hilt, getting as deep as your body allows him at this angle.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl,” he says more lovingly now, fingers kneading the supple skin of your hips as he holds you steady while he trusts in and out of you. You’re already moaning, the feeling of his cock at this angle sending you into a quick plummet towards release every single time.

“F-fuck, Joel, f-faster,” you manage to whimper, pushing your head down further to get an even better angle for him to hit the sensitive spot deep inside of you. Joel obeys without any question or comment, an unusual occurrence, but you can hear from the noises he’s making that he’s just as undone at this angle as you are, able to get deeper and feel your walls clench around him so deliciously.

“L-look so p-pretty takin’ my cock,” Joel says, his voice straining with his ragged thrusts. “Play with yourself, wanna feel you come with me,” he demands, and you slip your finger on your clit, rubbing circles and melting into all the pleasurable sensations your body is taking right now.

Joel’s movements slow down, dragging his cock in and out along your fluttering walls and you yell out, his name spilling from your lips repeatedly. The languid circles on your clit quicken while you reach your breaking point, a fever pitch breaking within you as you moan out pathetically for him, your whole body shaking and shuddering as stars explode in your vision. Joel rides you through half your orgasm, a few pumps into you before your clenching walls draw his own pleasure out of him and he comes deep inside of you, crying out your name in the process. His hips twitch and buck as you whimper at the sensation, your finger continuing to rub as a second quick orgasm tears through you from the aftershocks. Joel curses and hisses through his teeth as you bear down on him again, feeling you explode underneath him while you come all over his cock another time. You collapse onto your belly, bringing Joel down with you. He lays half on top of you, the both of you unable to speak while you catch your breath.

Joel places sweet, lazy kisses along the skin closest to him on your back, sighing heavily. “Fuckin’ incredible, baby,” he whispers, biting you playfully on a sensitive, ticklish spot.

You let out a tired laugh and wiggle under him before he pulls out of you, moving to readjust your clothing so it’s back on completely. He tucks his arms under your shoulders and lifts you up, and then slides them to your thighs, continuing to lift you and you gladly let him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist and arms around his neck as he carries you the short distance back to the bedroom. He’s gentle as he lays you down, following up with pulling the bedsheet over you and crawling into the bed next to you. You two kiss for what feels like ages, no expectation in any of the meetings between your lips, just the desire to feel the others warmth and affection. Joel lets out murmurs of “my girl” periodically between kisses, building the emotion inside of you until you feel a single tear slide from your eye, traveling down onto the pillow beneath you.

“Your girl,” you find yourself quietly whispering as the two of you fall asleep cradled in each other’s arms.

With your parents out of town, you get to spend the entire weekend at Joel’s without anyone wondering where you are, and it’s some of the best hours of your life, holing up in his house together. You only leave to take Benny for his walks, get him food from your parents’ place, and on Saturday night to sneak into your parents’ pool to skinny dip in the dark. It’s exhilarating, letting Joel chase you around in the pool as you splash at him with the promise of something sexy to come after.

Joel cooks for you - breakfasts and lunches, and he brings you fresh fruit and periodic snacks while you lounge around, binge watching new reality shows for Joel to try and a movie that makes you cry. When you look at Joel through your tears, you notice the shimmer of tears in his and try to suppress your smile. You order pizza for dinner, learning that Joel’s go-to is a pepperoni and mushroom pizza, which happens to be at the top of your list too so you don’t have to argue about it.

You live in Joel’s clothes, not even bothering to stop at your place for anything since Joel cheekily suggested that you go without underwear, leading to yet another mind-blowing round of sex that leaves you pleasantly exhausted. That’s how it goes, the both of you in close quarters together - one small flirtatious comment leads to Joel’s tongue on your cunt, your mouth around his cock, or him buried deep inside of you for countless times over that Saturday and Sunday.

Everything is so easy, and you never run out of things to talk about together over the course of the days you spend together. When Sunday evening rolls around, you pout continuously at the prospect of having to leave and for the two of you to have to go back to reality and work the following day. Your parents are supposed to come back tonight, and you know you can’t stay at Joel’s much longer. He caresses your naked body to his once more after a particularly frenzied fuck, knowing you’d have to leave afterwards he wanted to leave you with something to think about tonight. And rest assured, you certainly will be.

You groan, looking at him and opening your mouth to speak.

“I know,” Joel says, placing a gently finger on your lips. “You’ve gotta get going, angel.”

“Nooo,” you whine, burying your face in his chest.

“Clingy little thing,” he jests, counteracting his words by clinging you tighter to him and laughing.

“You’re clingy too, remember all the times you had to fuck me this weekend ‘cause your cock gets hard if I even look at you a certain way?” you poke back with a raised eyebrow, challenging him.

“Don’t start talkin’ about my cock now, or you know what happens,” Joel warns, even though he knows neither of you have time for what would come next. “C’mon now, I’ll walk you down,” he says with a nudge into your side.

You frown but slide out of Joel’s bed, throwing on another one of his shirts and pairs his boxers. You are somewhat eager to wear something that fits you after days spent with this as your uniform, but you’ll miss having the feel and scent of Joel covering your body at all times. This certainly won’t be the last time you put on his clothes, anyways, you think as a comfort to yourself.

Joel follows you down to his kitchen, where he holds your hips as you stand at the sliding back door.

“Thanks for stayin’ over sweetheart,” Joel says before tugging your body flush with his, leading you into a warm embrace.

“Should be thanking you,” you reply, thinking of all the food, comfort, and care he gave you.

“Alright, off with you now,” Joel says, reaching around you and opening the door. He’s still got his arms wrapped around you in a hug, and he moves the few steps with you until you’re on the threshold of the door. You giggle at the awkwardness of his steps following yours before he captures your mouth in several kisses, the two of you leaning outside of the door now. You pull away reluctantly and place a hand on his chest, smiling coyly up at him.

“Bye,” you say quietly, and Joel steps backwards into his house before you turn to head back to your parents’ house. It’s early evening, and they’re supposed to be back in a few hours, giving you plenty of time to shower and change into fresh clothes that aren’t Joel’s, take care of the house, and get Benny settled back into your parents place after spending the weekend with you and Joel. He’s been at your heels as you said your goodbyes, and you call for him to follow you out of Joel’s house.

When you look up from Benny and over the fence towards your parents’ yard, you lock eyes with one of the last people you’d wanted or expected to see - your dad.

Well, shit.

taglist: @paleidiot @mumma-moonchild @soph55

#sorry but i'm so soft for joel and this reader it aint funny anymore #fic: closer #i am suffering #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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7nessasaryevils · 6 months ago

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And so we begin... Gods I'm terrified... ep 7 of Wandee Goodday: how shall thee fuck me up?

- oh great we starting it right off with fucking cuddling on Yak's chest this is such normal non-boyfriend behaviour 🙄😑

- Yak my darling, if you're looking for psychiatrists, I'd recommend one that isn't a crazed Naga prince hell-bent on revenge on a reincarnated chicken... just saying 🤷🏾‍♀️ - although I am immensely in love that Dee does bring up therapy for Yak 🥹🥹

- them just comforting each other in a physical way that isn't sex... IM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

- I have never hated a title sequence more than when it came right before I know yak was about to ask for a kiss as his reward 😤😡

- Yak being so fucking comfortable in Dee's space... I hate you both and I'm going to smush your faces together if it's the last thing I do

- WHAT PICTURE WAS THAT MY EYES SUCK!!never mind it was ter now im wishing my brain can unsee it

- yak my darling he loves you I promise!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- not me barely taking in the fact that Dee kept the picture rather than throwing it out (which... I will shake you for Dee!!) and then getting fucking smacked in the face with the first kiss poster... P'Golf you test me today

- normally I don't condone vandalism but today... YEAH YAK RIP IT

- Kao our king asking the important questions as always! (Psst shake him harder Kao please and thanks)

- Ter... I swear to god you try some shit I will snap you in half (though the sunlight is doing ✨fabulous ✨ things for Pod!) edit: in retrospect that sunlight is literally turning his eyes red P'Golf you actual fucking genius

- me as soon as ter starts speaking

- pfft Cher you absolute king ♥️♥️

-uhhh... is this the weight training equivalent of that pottery scene from Ghost??

- ohhh they're so stupid i wanna die

- Cher and Yak are the mother son relationship I never knew I needed ♥️

- CANDLE LIGHT DINNER

- TER I WILL END YOU

- ohhhh i have a bad feeling about this... but also Dee.. you dumbass put on pants at the very least when you're entering a snake's house!

- this sequence of events is most horrific and terrible and I do not like it

- I'm going to kill Ter. Anyone who stops me... beware my wrath. Yak should've broken his fucking nose.

- also the fact that Ter lives in room 666. HE IS THE DEVIL YOU ARE SO RIGHT

- nooooo yak! Baby!!

- Kao. sir. I'm going to conquer empires in your name! MY KING!!

- the break up episode is meant to be #11 not # 8 what is this?!??

- not the necklace... no please not the necklace

- I hate everything nobody talk to me

- oh cool yak made it hurt even more im going to rip out my eyeballs thanks

- NOT DEE REACHING UP FOR THE NECKLACE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

- the worst the worst the worst I'm in pain

- that's it. That's fucking it. Someone get me Vegas Therapanyakul on the phone right now, I need to order a fucking hi- never mind the idiot doctor fell asleep. My sincerest wish is that Dee knees Ter in the balls as he gets up.

- Taem baby girl what was that??? 😦😦🤨🤨🤨

- sassy english my beloved 🤣🤣

- oh... ohhh no no no no no no- oh what the fuck what the fuck YAK CONCENTRATE BABY

- did i fucking expect the grim reaper? No. And neither did Yak if that right hook was any indication ouch!

- yak and yei fighting... this epsiode really said how can i hurt Nessie today....

- ohhhh fucking fuckity fuck why won't this epsiode let me BREATHE

- yak's face when he see Dee!!!! His teary eyes!!! I ACHE THANKS

- ROOF TOP KISS SCENE MY FUCKING BELOVED IM SO FUCKING OKAY GEWNFUCKINGCHANA 😭😭😭😭

- also throwback to The Sign and their bolster light effect I have never been the same again

- I 'm just gonna die in a corner bye don't look for me I do not exist to any of you

This episode has finally culminated in the kiss we all have been waiting for and I don't know about any of you but I feel the same as I did three years ago watching Bad Buddy. The absolute joy and heartache in me as these boys who so clearly love and care for each other finally acknowledge their feelings.

Next episode is also coming for my existence and I shall keep myself alive until then to regale you all with my incoherent screams ♥️

Until next time! 🥊🩺

#wandee goodday #wandee gooday the series #yak x wandee #wandee wittaya #yoryak phadetseuk #the sign #bad buddy #spoilers #wandee goodday spoilers #i'm screaming crying throwing up #also head banging floor rolling #adding in some blood rituals in there too #anything to get rid of Ter

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sombrashe · 11 months ago

Text

Heat

content afab gender neutral reader, chubby reader, no plot, toxic undertones, nipple play, cunnilingus, non-safe sex, kinda breeding kink

I'm so sorry. I was a complete dick, and I know a stupid text won't fix what I said. I just need to say this to you because you deserve better. I would love to be able to come over and talk about this. Apologize for real, to your face.

He had been ignoring your texts for days now, a direction you're not used to. You sigh as you stare at your message, the green bubble causing your stomach to turn. Throwing down your phone, you're annoyed. If you two were really broken up this time how were you supposed to get your stuff?

I'm at war with the wo-

You snatched the phone from its sunken position within a discarded blanket. The text was short, a simple let's talk and you grin giddy as you run through the routine. Making up always started with you dolled up and ended with bruises on your knees. Hair done, lip gloss shining against your plump lips, and a loose pair of jeans for easy access and you're ready to go.

Tugging on a plain color hoodie you rush out the door and obsessively check yourself at every red light. Staring at yourself with sad eyes you consider some lines before settling on the I'll leave... since you don't want me here option.

Clicking the metallic button you hear the faint ring of the small apartment's doorbell. The heat makes you tug on the collar of your hoodie but you can't remove it just yet. Looking nonchalant you give the vertically privileged man a friendly smile.

"I won't take too much of your time. I was wondering if I could also pick up my things while I'm here?"

You made sure to sound gentle, giving him the illusion of choice.

"Whatever you need." He tilts his head scanning you before taking a step off to the side.

"May I?"

You gesture towards the coat rack which was tucked snugly between the wall and the front door. He nods and holds his hand out ready to take the article of clothing from you. You peel off the hoodie making sure to catch your shirt with your pinkie so the mossy green bra you choose specifically for this moment would be shown off.

The smile plastered to his face doesn't leave even as he gathers your hoodie into his arms and tosses it onto one of the arms of the rack. He rests his hand on the small of your back and leads you towards the sandy couch which sits immaculately matching the rest of the living room set. You take a seat furthest from him, your knees pressed together as you smooth out your thighs.

He waits a beat before turning on his heel and confidently walking through the few rooms the apartment provides. He returns about ten minutes later with a moderately sized basket filled with miscellaneous items all of which belonged to you. Taking the basket you rest it on your thighs feeling the pinch of wicker through the denim.

A beat and the softest voice you can muster. "Did you want to talk?"

He never did, and neither did you if you were being honest. This cat-and-mouse game was so much more fun.

"Not really." He shrugs and stares at you with storms brewing within his irises.

You sigh loud enough to sound sad, "I should go. I don't want to be a bother." You love this part.

On cue, he reaches out and wraps his ring- fingers around your elbow. Keeping his fingers pressed into your skin he takes a seat. Your knees are so close to touching. God, he was too far.

"Stay a minute. I can order pizza?"

He scoots closer and you turn your knees towards him feeling the way your bare knees brush against the baggy jeans he wears low on his hips.

"Pizza sounds nice."

He hums in agreement. His lips turn up in a small smile and you get a moment to admire the way his cheeks dimple. Leaning closer you place your hand daintily against his thigh.

"I've missed you."

He mumbles ever so sweetly against your glossed lips. System of a Down serenades you as you both close the atom of a space between you. His lips move in sync with yours, years of this off-again-on-again bullshit has given you two plenty of time to know just what makes the other tick. His rings press into the bone of your jaw as he angles your head up.

Breaking the kiss he licks a stripe up the tendon of your neck. Pausing he bites down on the opposite tendon and watches as you hiss. Wasting no time you rest your fingers against the back of his head and shove him against your delicate flesh. His nose presses painfully against your skin and you can feel the heat of his breath.

"If you're going to bite, then fucking bite, Kyle."

He's halfway on your lap, your basket knocked over and scattered across the milk spill of a carpet. He presses his knee against you as he hums against your skin. Pressing kisses against your neck and jaw he replaces specific kisses with bloody marks. Your fingers never leave the base of his skull. Lapping at your wounds he only pulls away once the blood has stopped staining your skin. His breathing is collected, his demeanor calm compared to your heated skin and soft gasping breaths.

"C’m on, Bug."

He towers over you as he stands with his hand out to help you up. Finally, Placing your palm against his he drags you to his bedroom and down onto the mattress. You each spend a moment taking turns planting kisses and removing articles of clothing. First your shirt then his, his pants then yours until you're the only one left in nothing but your underwear.

You lean back ignoring the ever-present complaints from your frazzled brain. Cupping one of your breasts you rub your thumb over your perk nipple and let out a whine. He was only a step away and closes the gap between you within a blink. Cupping the back of your hand with his palm he forces you to squeeze your hand tightly down before letting go at your digression.

He lets out an airy breath as he bumps his forehead against yours. His eyes jump from yours to gaze hungrily at your chest. Pressing hot kisses down the skin of your neck and ends up exactly where he wants to be. Moving forward he forces you onto your back, his face eye level with your chest the entire way down. Once you're settled he takes his time pressing open-mouthed kisses to the very tops of your breasts, following each and every mark. Each one gets its moment with Kyle, his eagerness only evident with the way his hands twitch against the soft expanse of your stomach. Moving in a clear pattern he spends a few moments tracing his lips and the tip of his nose across your areola licking softly at the pigmented skin. Once he feels satisfied with the teasing he's subjected you to he takes the longest on your gorgeous perky nipples. He can't help the low groan that ripples across your sensitive flesh. He laps at those tiny buds for what feels like hours. Your moans and whines for him only spur him on to take more and more time with you.

Pulling away from your white hot flesh he admires the way your arm is thrown over your face only exposing your bruised and puffy lips. Running his thumb over your bottom lip he gently removes your arm from its relaxed spot and presses a small kiss to your temple.

"Need your eyes on me while I make you cum."

His words send a sharp shiver down your spine which settles restlessly against your lumbar. You watch with pent-up energy as he moves from your chest down your stomach leaving wet kisses in his wake. You absentmindedly spread your legs and fight back the urge to immediately snap them closed as he lets out a guffaw. His teeth are on wide display as he marvels at the growing wet spot sticking to your underwear.

He brushes his thumb across the mark and sucks a breath in through his teeth. Dragging the digit across your matching set you avert your eyes to ease the growing heat resting within the hollows of your cheeks. You grow impatient at his teasing, no words spoken, only the brush of his thumb and the hollow pleasure that never goes anywhere.

Finally, finally, finally, he gets to the point and slips that same thumb under the edge of your underwear feeling the slickness as he brushes his calloused thumb against your sensitive bud. You shutter and let out a soft mewl spurring him on further. He hooks his other thumb under the elastic and tracing your skin with his nails he hooks his knuckles under and over to pull the last remaining article of fabric keeping you two apart over your plush thighs.

The chill from the fan above sends goosebumps over the expanse of your exposed skin. Kyle traces over a few of them and tilts his head watching his finger. He always spent moments pressing and pinching the fat that spills around your frame. He enjoyed the way you rolled so perfectly around his fingers, his rings leaving marks in the soft flesh. Sometimes he would sink his teeth into the fat around your thighs, but luck was on your side today and you wouldn't have to worry about the feeling of raw flesh being pinched by your jeans.

Breathing softly making sure to exhale directly onto your labia making you shift trying to grow more comfortable with the heat searing between your legs. Reaching down you loosely grab at his curls, his hair had grown out a bit since the last time you saw him. Using the blunt ends of your nails you gently rake them down and across his scalp hoping to encourage him. He picks up the pace and with a sigh an emotion you don’t get to see often crosses his face. He spreads your lips apart using his thumbs and bares his teeth in a wide smile.

He takes a moment to just admire you, his excitement evident by the way he shifts on his knees. Using the tip of his tongue he gently ghosts in across your clit. With a small breath, you relax further into his grip and give yourself over to the pleasure bursting through your limbs. His shadow of a beard brushes against your hairless thighs. The burn that would come with him between your legs was something future you could deal with. Right now you only have one thing on your mind. Pressing the flat part of his tongue fully down on your clit now has your eyes fluttering as a lopsided grin ghosts over your face with every lick. He spends most of his time working your clit. Using the smooth part of his teeth he gently scrapes it against your darkening clit causing your kees to snap together disorienting him for a moment. With a quick flex of his arms, your knees are pinned beneath his arms and his finger starts to replace his tongue.

At every switch, he moves his way down until his tongue is pushing between your walls. He draws shapes against your insides as you wiggle beneath him. Your breathing is uneven as your walls flutter around his erratic tongue. His unoccupied hand keeps a bruising grip over the flesh of your thigh making your movement sluggish in comparison. Soon you feel that familiar coil of heat building up in your abdomen. He grins against your cunt and looks up at you through long eyelashes. With a huff and a, “Fuck, Kyle!”, you're cumming against his tongue as he lets out a soft whine lapping you up like a starved man. Once he pulled away, only at your insistence, he ran his thumb across his bottom lip and licked your very essence off. He looked absolutely gorgeous, eyes dark and lips shiny. You worked your way onto your elbow and shifted him closer to you. He walked his arms up to position beside yours and you pulled him in for a gentle kiss. One that lasted only a few seconds, time spent gently pressing your matte lips against his before darting your tongue out and helping clean him up a little.

He grips your plush hip and leaves bruises in his wake. You gently scratch your nails down his shoulder blades. Feeling every inch of his back before ghosting the backs of your nails back over his skin leaving goosebumps behind. Leaning back he rolls his shoulders and gives you an eager smile, his eyes gleaming as he tilts his head.

“You ready?”

You smile and shift alongside him. Letting him use his militant muscles to pull and twist you further down the bed until your legs are awkwardly hanging off the side. You try lifting your legs and resting your feet on the side of the wooden box spring. Instead, you're left slipping and huffing as Kyle watches with small laughs before he swoops in and saves the day. Keeping his fingers wrapped around your ankles he bends you at the knee and shifts your ankles up and over his shoulders. Giving your butt a little wiggle he gives you a sharp smile in contrast to your warm one. He was so so so close, but you needed him closer. Reaching down between the two of you, you take the opportunity to brush your fingers over his swollen tip. Moving your hand further he watches with interest as your stomach folds to allow more leeway. Smearing droplets of pre cum around your fingertips you slide them down further until your palm is like a platform for his cock. Guiding it downwards, you pull it away from his abdomen until his tip is nudging your hole.

You bite your bottom lip for a second before wetting it and give him soft eyes, eyes so unlike others that he sees daily. Eyes full of adoration and shiny now with lust. His heart picks up speed and he has to force himself to look away. You were so much for him, but he couldn't think even for a moment he could live without you.

“Kyle.”

“I know, I know.”

He went through the motions. Freeing your hand, he wrapped his own fingers around his length. Guiding it past your lips and up across your swollen clit a few times. Listening to your huffs as you keep from snapping at him. His smile faint as he finally gives you what you've been wanting… no needing this entire time. He pushes past your walls and settles comfortably, a kiss away from your cervix. Giving you time and allowing himself a moment to stare at you; The way your hands covered your heated cheeks, the feeling of you trying and failing to not squeeze the life out of him, the feeling of your heartbeat beneath his fingers as he presses against your ankles pulsepoint. Finally, those hands fall away and they're instead directed towards him. One hand held out in a silent attempt to meet his while the other snaked its way down between your thighs and pressed ever so softly against your clit. You suck in a breath and he chuckles, he hasn't even moved yet, and look at how worked up you were.

Shifting your ankles to a higher point of elevation, he reaches forwards linking your non-dominant hands together. Slowly he slips out of your suctioning pussy watching until he can see the very beginning of his swollen tip before snapping his hips against the swell of your ass. He does this over and over again forming a pattern that has your teeth clenched and eyebrows furrowed. Squeezing your fingers he slowly starts to build up speed as the lewd sounds of your soaked pussy fill the small space of his room.

“God, fuck. Bug. ‘re you g’nna cum for me? Love, lovey, fuck! I’m close.”

His accent felt like nails scratching at your scalp the way you tingled. The way it dripped off his tongue and fell against the shell of your ear has you weakly wiggling against him.

“Kyle.”

You managed to choke out his name. Two fingers working tirelessly against your clit. He loosens his grip against your ankles and lets your knees fall to the side and over top of his chelidons. His hips stutter and snap against your thighs as he slowly untangles in front of your eyes. His hair sticks to his forehead as his chin lowers. Your eyes snap closed as the coil in your stomach snaps as you cum against his cock. You're so lost in your own feelings of euphoria you don't realize he came until after your high finally cools enough for you to open your eyes. He's staring at you with lidded eyes, his hands absentmindedly petting the lower part of your stomach. You push at him with the bottom of your foot feeling exhaustion start to settle in your limbs.

“Can I spend the night?”

He gives you a short snort as he pulls away from you completely. The soft wet sounds of him pulling out of you has your cheeks heating up despite the tiredness. Yanking you up you let out a grunt as your feet hit the ground. Your knees jiggle for a second as you struggle to make it out of his room and into the cold tiled bathroom. Going to the bathroom you spend a moment fixing yourself in the mirror. Cold water to help the puffiness and a little borrowed face wash to remove the lip gloss that stuck to your chin and mouth. After drying your skin you stretch and make your way back into his small bedroom. Not even bothering with any clothes you simply crawl into his bed and under the plush covers. His giant cushy bed was your favorite part of his house, his military lifestyle allowing him to deck his small apartment out to the nines. Yawning you relax against the oversized blanket overlapping the both of you.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x gn!reader #gaz x reader smut #kyle gaz garrick #operator writes

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agirlwithdemonblood · 2 years ago

Text

The Broken Fan - Chapter 1

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: Growing up was never easy for me, but finally I may have found some light in my very dark world.

Warnings: Mentions of death, parents death, mentions of abuse, homelessness, anxiety, ect

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

Do you ever feel like if you disappeared today, nobody would notice? The world wouldn't stop, your disappearance wouldn't be plastered on milk cartons or across news channels, nobody would even know or care. That was my life. Nobody knew me, or cared for me. Nobody noticed me, not really. I was a ghost, an invisible presence left alone, all alone.

My parents died when I was a baby, I was too young to remember who they were or what happened really. I know what my Aunt told me, they wanted a night to themselves, so she babysat me. Around 4 in the morning she received a phone call saying that they passed away, asleep in their beds when the fire took their lives.

I don't even remember having parents, I have photographs of us together, but their faces are unknown to me. I didn't know them, I didn't get the chance.

After the fire, I stayed with my Aunt. Things were weird there. She'd look at me with such heartbreak and disgust and I had no idea why. I was just a kid, what did I do?

But I must have done something wrong, because when I turned 6 she told me she couldn't take care of me anymore, and the next morning two kind people packed me in their car and drove me away. I never saw my Aunt again.

My first foster home was alright, I was happy for a little bit. There were a lot of kids in the house, various ages, both sexes. I didn't like the kids too much. They were loud and annoying, and hyper. They always wanted to play stupid games like hide and seek, or tag. I didn't want to play dumb games, I wanted something real. I wanted to connect, to have somebody next to me.

And eventually, I did.

Henry, my foster dad, was always there for me. He actually cared about me, noticed me, heard me. He would spend hours at night reading me fairy tales until I fell asleep, and during the day he'd teach me things like how to ride a bike or read.

I had an actual connection with him, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I loved him more than anybody. I thought I finally had somebody permeant in my life, but I was wrong.

My foster mom Sandy didn't like me. She hated the fact that her husband had his attention on me, and she thought it was strange for a six year old to bond with an older man rather than the children all around me. She said it wasn't healthy.

So he was taken away from me. After many tears shed and heartbreaking hugs, I said goodbye to the only person who's ever seen me for me, and moved to a new foster home.

The new home was horrible. The parents weren't friendly, and I was the only child in their care. I was forced to follow their schedule which consisted of three boring things, every day.

Cleaning, school, homework, food, bed. No reading fairy tales, no riding my bike, no playing with toys.

I hated it there. I felt so alone, so invisible. So I left. I ran away thinking I'd be better off somewhere else. But as a 7 year old girl, I didn't get very far and as soon as I returned, things got bad.

At first, it was the belt. My foster dad would smack my arms hard, than my legs, sometimes my face if I was a bad enough kid. If I cried or continued to disobey, the belt was replaced with his palms. This happened for years, non stop torture.

I didn't stop trying to run away, every few months I'd take off, praying that nobody would find me, they'd leave me alone but everytime I was brought back and beaten worse.

Finally, the parent's gave up on me and I went to another home. But I was so angry, so filled with anxiety and rage that I drove away anybody who could possibly care for me.

By the time I was 18, I had been in 13 Foster homes. My last one wasn't too bad, but I didn't talk, I barely ate, I didn't connect. I didn't want another Henry situation. I didn't want to care about others because I knew they'd leave me.

And I was right.

On my 18th Birthday, my present was a knock at my door from my parents telling me I've aged out and I need to leave. I received a check to get me started, a bag of food, and a cell phone, than I was left alone.

The money wasn't much, definetly not enough to get an apartment so I decided to get a car instead. I ended up using all my money to buy a crappy little Honda Civic and I've called it my home ever since.

Sleeping in my car wasn't half bad, I had my own space, I didn't need to listen to anybody or share it with anybody, it was all mine.

One night I parked beside a motel that had free Wifi, and I was bored so I decided to find something to watch, I never really watched TV or movies, but tonight I wanted to.

The first show I found was something called Supernatural, and for some reason I felt a connection, like something was telling me to watch it.

God, am I happy that I did.

The show felt like home, it gave me something to look forward to, something to provide me comfort on the hardest of days. I felt connected, like I knew the characters and I was living their life.

And one of the characters, Dean.. He awoke something inside of me that I never knew was there. He made me feel like I wasn't crazy, that life was hard but I needed to keep going.

The more I watched, the more I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. The show pulled me out of the darkness slowly, convincing me that life was better if I was here to live it. It gave me hope. It allowed me to breathe again.

Today is my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating like I always did, drinking beer in my car and listening to music while mindlessly scrolling through a page for Supernatural fans.

I froze when I glanced about an article about Supernatural's newest convention, which happened to be a few hours from where I lived. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about going, people like me don't go to shows or events like this, but I needed this. I really needed it.

I checked my bank account and nearly leaped with joy when I realized I had enough for a ticket, living in my car finally payed off.

Without hesitation, I bought a ticket for the convention and for the first time, I felt excited. I felt hope beaming inside of me. I could finally be surrounded with people with similar interests, and feel normal for once. Hopefully.

The next morning, I walked into the office building I worked at, and made my boss Brad a coffee, like he always expected. Knocking on his door, I took a deep breath before entering, walking towards his marble desk and placing the coffee on the table.

He nodded before taking the cup in his hand and sipping it, like he always did. His eyes flickered up towards me when he noticed I haven't left yet.

"Do you need something?" He asked.

I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the desk, "I just wanted to ask you something if you had a moment."

He nodded for me to go on and I shook off the anxiety nearly suffocating me. Confidence, I need to have confidence.

"I was wondering if I could take a week off starting Friday evening, there's somewhere I need to go out of town."

He stared back at me, the silence was suffocating, the tension high. He shook his head and looked back down to the papers scattered across his desk.

"No, sorry that won't work."

It felt like a punch to my gut, I haven't taken one day off, I constantly worked overtime, I did everything and anything for this ass, and I can't take some time off?

I swallowed down the nerves and sat in the chair in front of his desk, noting the way he stared at me confused. "Sir, all due respect I have been working non stop for the past 7 months and I have never asked for a day off, I've never taken a sick day and I always have my work done, all I need is-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was raised, eyes locked on mine. "I said no Y/N, is that all?"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I stood from my spot, making my way towards the door. Anger was bubbling through my system and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I turned quickly and sighed, "Actually, there's one more thing."

He scoffed and looked up towards me, awaiting my response. I swallowed hard and frowned, "I am not going to be back tomorrow, I quit."

His mouth dropped open and he stared back in shock, but I didn't stay long to hear whatever response he was going to throw at me. I rushed as fast as I could out of the building back to my car. I slammed the door as the tears rushed down my face.

What did I do? Why did I quit my job for a convention? What the hell was so special about this damn show.

I finally let go of all the feelings I was holding onto, bursting into sobs of pain and frustration. Life was harsh and unforgiving, every moment of hope was washed away.

The only thing I had left was the convention, and even than I was clearly going to be the outcast, the weird girl who looks like she's never showered or slept a day in her life.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would be different here, the fans seem nice enough online, why wouldn't they be in person?

And if Dean Winchester was still inside Jensen, I knew he wouldn't look at me like I was garbage, if he ever even noticed me.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#supernatural one shot #jensenxyou #spn fic #jensen x reader #dean x reader #jensen's smile #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean

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axel-skz · 1 year ago

Text

It was the Tour I won’t forget…

Stray kids x reader

Perm taglist: @sunshinebarbie @bunnychangbin @3rachasninja @fairyofshampoo67

It gave you so much joy that today is finally here. It took too long. The nights had been unbearably lonely. But those thoughts weren’t important now.

He’s coming back today.

You had been checking the phone and looking at the time as if staring could make it go faster. Sitting here on basically the edge of your seat for so many hours, it felt like your legs were numb.

That was all well and good… until you got the text…

A text that would break your heart. One that couldn’t be anticipated. An event no one could control. Yet in the deepest part of your mind… you blamed him.

Because it hurt.

He had been on tour for 3 months. It had been painful to have only 10% of his attention on a good day. But it was good for his career and you of course knew this would happen before this relationship had started.

So you didn’t complain.

The tears were kept in until the very short calls came to an end. The bad news being withheld because he probably had problems of his own. The accidents and the scrapes left un kissed and hidden away because he would worry.

All of it done with all the effort you had in you because the day was ever so slowly approaching. He would return. And he would return so proud of you because you had been so supportive.

It didn’t come.

The text read, ‘I’ll call you later, but guess what?!’

At this point, you were excited, he was supposed to be landing as this text came.

‘WE ADDED A FEW MORE STOPS ON THE TOUR!!!’

Your heart, one that was barely holding on, had now been broken. Pieces falling away and letting out a cry that had been kept inside for god knows how long.

You sobbed.

It felt a little… dramatic… stupid too… how could someone be so dependent on another person…

But at the same time… the love you had for him was something that hadn’t been felt before. It was a scary feeling. It never haunted you though because if anyone was worth the risk, it was him.

It didn’t feel that way at this moment. This was when the darkest part of our minds become active.

It felt like he was deliberately staying away from you. Like maybe he found someone else. The world was at his fingertips and everything became clear. It was too beautiful and too exciting to be cooped up here with you. He requested the tour be made longer while he thought up a reason… not to come back… because of you…

It felt like the spiral had lasted hours. Horrible thoughts in your head taking all attention from anything rational.

You almost missed his text 15 minutes later. He was going to call soon and explain everything properly.

Explain… Explain?! How does anything make this okay?! Is there something that makes all this make sense?! And what frame of time was ‘soon’? What the hell does ‘call soon’ even mean?

You’re sat waiting for about 2 hours before he called.

‘Heyy!’

‘Hi’

‘God, Y/N… I can’t even explain how excited I am-’ he rambled on but you weren’t hearing any of it. You couldn’t get past your anger and frustration.

‘Do you not miss me at all?’ It was a sudden question and he seemed shocked, not answering right away.

‘I do miss you… so so much… but this is huge… non of us could’ve seen this level of an accomplishment coming. There’s so much more left to do.’

‘It’s been 3 months…’

‘I’m sorry but I don’t see why you can’t be supportive. I spent so much time trying to call you while we have been here. I did everything I could to talk to you. I don’t make the schedules but this is also a dream of mine. You know this.’

‘What?! Are you seriously doing this to my right now?! You have been away, for 3 freaking months!! I didn’t complain at all! I got up in the middle of the night just so I could call you!’

‘Yeah but I didn’t make you do that! I appreciate it but I never wanted or asked for you to do all this for me!’

‘Are you kidding me right now? You’re actually being serious… you don’t see anything wrong with what you just said?’

‘I even offered to bring you here with me. You declined. It’s not my fault.’

‘…I… wow… there’s no words… I never thought that you of all people would ever be the one to make me feel this way…’

‘I’m not trying to hurt you… you know I love you so much… but my career is important… I was so happy about this… now…’

‘Oh yeah… okay… I ruined it. That’s what you were gonna say? It’s fine. I’ll go. You enjoy this with the people you care so much about,’ you dropped the call.

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 1 year ago

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@ckhalloween23

Here is my submission for the Week 2 prompt "Witches"--a preview from a new fic I'm working, Flower of Lemon and Feather of Shrike! I decided to do a deep dive into Yasmine's drastically OOC Season 4 behavior, and explore a scenario where its origin is...a bit more sinister than poor writing or repressed lesbianism aknskfnhdrf

This one isn't just for the YasMoon girlies, but in fact for all the girlies who thought Yasmine Nolastname was big boi screwed over in S4, and deserved better!!! Even the foulest of bitchy bullies don't deserve to be reduced to a trophy girlfriend and a prop for a male character's storyline, especially when said male character is a pretty garbage boyfriend when it comes right down to it </3 (More on that later!!!)

This one is also for the MoonPiper girlies, because god, were we fucked over too D: Also actually (mostly) canon compliant, except H*wkM**n never ever get back together and stay broken up forever and always amen peace and love on planet earth <3 <3 <3 <3

There's no world where I will acknowledge this stupid ship got undeadified like a horrendous, nonsensical, chemistry-devoid zombie when it had long since run its narrative course and played its role in both Eli and Moon's arcs can you tell awehakureyigsrf

This is Moon's POV and Yasmine and Moon-centric, but I left the shippier parts ambiguous since I wanted to make something that my non-shipper friends can enjoy too ^^; There are feelings on Moon's side but as far as I'm concerned that's basically canon lmao like did you SEE that girl in S4??? She was so thirsty for Blondie that I'm genuinely shocked the showrunners didn't tell Hannah Kepple to stop kanhdskufhd Definitely tried to leave Yasmine's feelings more up in the air, though! Interpret her however you like ^^

Fic preview under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

***

The phone line cuts off, and Yasmine’s name disappears from the screen.

Moon curls into her pillow, erupting in ragged sobs. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt this helpless.

This entirely consumed by pure, raw emotion.

Her mind is a whirlpool, everything Yasmine spat at her twisting around and around and around. None of it seems real.

Because Moon can’t wrap around her head around meaning nothing to Yasmine. She can’t make sense of a world where she was only a pawn—someone for the repressed queen bee to “experiment” with. Someone to cater to Yasmine’s whims and fulfill her every desire and ask nothing in return.

Yasmine was everything to Moon. Moon was nothing to Yasmine. And how did that make any fucking sense?

Moon’s hands knot into the covers, a scream ripping from her throat. Somewhere amid the blinding torrent of heartbreak and rage, she finds herself tearing incense sticks from her drawers and lighting candles with shaking hands.

She always swore to herself she’d never touch the rear section of her spellbook, pages marked with a black tab. But if Yasmine can’t keep her promises, why should Moon?

Her chest burns as she recites the incantation.

“By flower of lemon and feather of shrike I bid you know what this pain is like”

“Maybe we could meet in the middle? Like a…sexual Venn diagram?”

Yasmine’s face twists in disgust. Moon only rolls her eyes.

She would tell Demetri to stop being a creep, but she knows he doesn’t mean it. Just playing the part he thinks he should after girls have started noticing him.

And Moon knows what it’s like to hide your authentic self to better fit a mold. She’s eternally thankful Piper taught her better.

“So what’s under the blanket?” she prompts.

As Demetri begins his demonstration, Yasmine’s expression shifts. “Not bad. My parents might not have to pay for an A this time.”

Moon can’t help feeling a bit surprised.

So Yasmine’s taking the “be a little nicer” advice to heart, at least. A hint of gratitude toward anyone is a first.

And then the soccer ball comes.

Her panic strips away her new cordiality. Moon knows exactly where her friend’s mind goes.

She’s about to be the “dumb blonde” again—the vapid, useless pretty girl who always has to bribe her way to a pass. And it makes her feel so disgustingly helpless.

“Do you have another one?” A last-ditch attempt to save her grade without her family’s intervention.

As she watches the altercation play out, Moon could slice the tension between Hawk and Demetri with a knife. She’s never quite fancied herself an empath, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about the way Demetri’s entire body is trembling.

She sees herself, hunched up and bawling her eyes out. She sees the overpowering grief that tore free a side Moon didn’t even know she had.

Thank the gods nothing came of that episode.

When Sam arrives, Moon gives her a pleading look. Off she goes to rescue their big-mouthed friend, prepared to cut into Hawk with all the steel Moon could never quite work up.

“Are we gonna fail?”

The whisper in Moon’s ear is so lost. So broken.

Yasmine’s always been a mess. Moon supposes she should be flattered she’s one of the only people who’s ever gotten to see it.

“No.” She sighs. “Demetri’s smart. He’ll figure something out.”

“You’ll never guess what I saw yesterday.”

Sam leans over at the start of history class, smirk dancing across her lips.

“What?”

“Yasmine and Demetri are a thing.”

Moon knits her brow, confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

Sam sniggers. “I turned a corner in the hall and saw them making out, clear as day.”

Despite her best efforts, she can’t hide her alarm.

“Oh my god. Does she know he’s…?”

Demetri’s passes at Yasmine weren’t exactly genuine. Moon always thought Yas would be more intuitive about that sort of thing, especially considering the way she talked about Demetri when he first started hanging out with them.

“He’s what?”

“Um…never mind.”

It wasn’t Moon’s place to divulge Demetri’s business, especially when he hadn’t even figured it out himself. Or…didn’t want to admit certain things to himself, at least.

“Yasmine was pissed when Miguel and I caught them,” Sam goes on. “It was so funny. She insisted she’d never go out with him, but…you know. Unless you slipped me some LSD at lunch and I’m hallucinating, I have my doubts.”

She laughs again, clearly tickled pink by the whole thing. Moon only frowns.

“I’m so confused. All she’s ever done is complain about him.”

Her friend shrugs. “Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, I guess.”

“No, like. She thinks basically every single one of his interests is annoying. And she told me once that listening to him talk is like when you hit your brakes too fast and your whole car screeches.”

“Well, you know Yas. She thinks she’ll combust if she says something nice about anyone.”

“Right, but…” Moon narrows her eyes. “She’s picky as hell when it comes to dating. I, um…I would know. And Demetri’s the furthest possible thing from her type.”

“Opposites attract?”

“Not like that. I saw him try to explain basic particle physics to her one time and she nearly went to sleep. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Maybe it’s just a physical thing. We both know how crazy hormones can be, right?”

Moon hopes for Yasmine’s sake that Sam is right. Otherwise…

Well, there’s probably no need to entertain that possibility.

“I love it when you talk nerdy.”

Moon’s so caught up in Yasmine’s sweeping, graceful movements that it takes a moment for the statement to sink in.

She always smiles when she watches her best friend. She can’t help it. Yasmine moves like a mountain waterfall—majestic and larger than life, all while flowing so seamlessly.

It isn’t until Yasmine lets Demetri pull her in, giggling like an elementary schooler, that Moon’s smile falls.

No, you don’t.

Because Moon knows Yasmine, and she knows she has a hatred for “nerd shit” that could rival Hawk at his worst.

She despises anything that makes her feel small. Unimportant. Insignificant.

Moon remembers the look on Yasmine’s face when Sam leaned away from their popular table, exchanging easy chemistry banter with Aisha. She remembers the dejected pout when lunchroom conversations turned to AP homework, Sam and Demetri so engrossed in what Yasmine called “stupid school garbage” that they forgot the blonde girl was even there.

Because as much as Yasmine makes out like she couldn’t care less about anything, she doesn’t like to be reminded that she isn’t book smart. That the math and science that come naturally to Sam and Aisha and Demetri and even Hawk don’t make a lick of sense to her.

Sure, Demetri’s knowledge was useful when it got Yas a good grade. But on its own?

It only reminds her how inadequate she feels. How inadequate Moon knows she’s always felt.

And it was good, in a way, that Aisha tearing Yasmine’s popularity asunder showed her that the world didn’t revolve around her. But Moon senses the deep hurt Yasmine still carries, seeing glimpses of the worlds she’ll never know how to be part of.

So when Yasmine says she loves Demetri’s “nerdspeak,” lust and desire rolling off her in waves, it feels like she was the victim of some Freaky Friday body swap.

People change. Of course they do.

But not like this. Not enough to forget their very sense of self.

“Save me a seat at lunch? Specifically…this one?”

The smack of Yasmine’s hand hitting Demetri’s asscheek reverberates through the hall. Moon has to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

Yasmine hasn’t lost her fire in some ways, at least.

And Demetri doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps Moon’s assumption was wrong.

She and Yasmine head off to class, her friend fawning nonstop over her geeky boyfriend. Moon smiles and nods along, pushing down the unease swimming in her chest.

Moon picks up a whiff of Yasmine’s perfume, and realizes that it’s lemonflower.

Dragging Yasmine away from Demetri at the prom is like trying to bathe a cat.

Moon finally gets her alone after a few songs, suggesting they grab some punch for Demetri and the others. Yasmine eagerly agrees, her entire being lighting up at the thought of doing her boyfriend even a miniscule favor.

There’s something unsettling in the way it’s so mind-bogglingly different from the Yasmine of a few months ago, who would rather chug drain cleaner Heather Chandler style than revolve her entire being around the needs of some boy.

Maybe there’s a way to breach the subject without arousing suspicion.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way back from Australia.” Moon forces a laugh as she ladles punch into Yasmine’s cup. “I didn’t know you were that into him.”

“Oh, Moon!” Yasmine giggles, leaning her head on Moon’s shoulder. “I’m in love.”

She tries not to think about how soft Yasmine’s hair feels against her skin.

“And the dress, too!” Moon reminds herself that Yasmine is very happily spoken for. “You really went all out. It’s kind of cute how you’re embracing nerddom for him.”

Odd, but cute. That’s what Moon has to tell herself.

“You think he liked it?” Yasmine leaned back, twirling around. “It’s not too much, right? I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress him. I know guys aren’t into that kind of thing.”

Moon has to laugh again.

“Since when do you care what guys like?”

“Since I found one worth caring about, obviously.”

She sighs, a faraway look in her gray-green eyes. Perhaps she really is in love.

It’s just that Moon always imagined love would feel deeper than this.

“I’m sure Demetri loved it,” Moon concedes. “He’s really happy you came back for him. I can tell.”

“Funny, when I first showed up, he and Hawk were huddled off in some corner brooding, like the idiots couldn’t just dance with each other if they wanted. Almost felt bad taking Hawk’s boyfriend away.”

She snickers, and Moon feels strange.

She decides to change the subject.

“It’s crazy. I mean, imagine what you would’ve said a year ago if I told you you’d be smitten with Demetri Alexopoulos at junior prom. I remember when we first started talking again, you must’ve bitched for twenty minutes about that time he hit on you at your birthday party.”

Yasmine’s silent for a moment.

“He was being a creep.” There’s a steely edge to her voice that wasn’t there before. “He says he’s been watching me from across the lunchroom and I’m supposed to be flattered by that?! Like, dude, who even are you? Why are you talking to me?”

Moon raises her eyebrows.

“A couple weeks ago in science you were gushing about how sweet the ‘admirer from afar’ thing was.”

“Did I?”

Yasmine scowls in disgust. Just underneath it, Moon could swear she picks up a streak of panic.

“Yeah! He kept blowing you kisses across the room, and you giggled so loud that Mrs. Elmes yelled at you, remember?”

“Oh, god. That’s embarrassing.”

She says it like it’s some undignified moment caught on camera at a party—tripping and spilling her drink on someone, or the like. An odd way to talk about a behavior she has more often than not these days.

“He’s still such a weirdo.” Moon wonders if she’s imagining the trace of the Old Yasmine’s scorn. “He’s so, like, awkward about it when he puts his hands on me to dance. Like he’s scared my weird girl body is gonna burn him like a hot plate or something. I mean, we’ve been dating for four months!”

Moon’s stomach squirms.

“Probably just doesn’t want to do anything you might not be comfortable with,” she says quickly.

“He could freaking ask.” Yasmine curls her lip. “But I don’t even think it’s that. He’s an uncoordinated mess. He can’t dance for shit, and I have to do all the work.”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Moon elbows her gently. “All this stuff is new to him. He never had a girlfriend before you.”

“Yeah. And it shows. Half the time I can’t even tell if he’s like…enjoying himself, you know?”

Yasmine grunts, reaching up and itching the side of her head. The strobe lights catch on something falling from her hair.

Her expression abruptly shifts.

“Oh, my poor baby!” she gasps. “We’ve been leaving him hanging over there, haven’t we? I miss him already. Come on, I’m gonna cry if we miss the slow dance.”

And just like that, the disdain is gone. Yasmine bustles off, snatching her punch and sweeping back onto the dance floor.

Moon looks down at the table, and her eyes land on a gray feather.

A tiny thing, from a tiny, fierce little bird. Beak hooked, meant for killing and piercing like a raptor. Loud, screaming, crass. Unrefined. Ready to jump to violence at the slightest provocation, especially when it gave them an excuse to show off.

Everything Yasmine isn’t.

And, ironically, everything Demetri wants.

Moon’s gaze drifts back and forth between the dance floor—where Yasmine and Demetri have resumed their grinding—and the corner where Hawk stands alone. Hawk’s eyes don’t leave his best friend once.

And, every once in a while, Demetri looks back. Yasmine is none the wiser.

Moon stiffens, guilt trickling over her like hot wax before a hair removal. She downs the rest of her punch in one gulp before going outside and calling an Uber.

I’m such a fucking bitch.

Whatever Demetri and Yasmine get up to at the afterparty, she doesn’t want to be around for it.

“So how are things with Demetri?”

Moon keeps her tone light as they finish their food court tacos, but she sees the new charm bracelet around Yasmine’s wrist. And she knows damn well what that means.

“He’s so annoying.” Yasmine wastes no time diving into a rant. “He never fucking listens. I try to talk about stuff I care about or that I think is interesting, and he’s always acting distracted or changing the subject or whatever. I was telling him this cool thing I read online about the history of georgette skirts, and he didn’t ask a single follow-up question. I’ll bet the world’s shittiest sponge is better at retaining crap than him.”

“Sheesh.” Moon makes a face. “I’m sorry. Boys are the worst sometimes.”

“And that’s not even all.” Apparently Yasmine wasn’t finished. “Not ten minutes later, he’s rambling on and on about this blaster thing he unlocked in some video game. It was the verbal equivalent of having cement poured directly into my brain. And he has the nerve to call me boring?!”

“He did?” Moon scowls, genuinely peeved. “That’s so rude!”

Perhaps Demetri wasn’t as sweet and thoughtful as he always came across.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yasmine frowns right back. “So he gets all snippy with me because he’s being a soggy paper towel of a human being and obviously I’m zoning out. He starts quizzing me on all the dumb bullshit he was blathering about, and I finally snap and tell him he’s boring me out of my fucking mind. And then he gives this whole speech about how at least he’s spending his free time learning strategy and problem-solving and hand-eye coordination, and all I’m doing is looking at clothes online.”

They walk over to the trash and throw out their taco wrappers. With both hands free, Yasmine’s free to gesture more fully and furiously.

“Girl, I got so mad that I called him an antisocial freak and told him he was damn lucky I ever gave him a shot. That was probably kind of messed up, but whatever. Sam doesn’t cut him down to size enough, so I have to pick up the slack. Anyways, I was storming out of the restaurant, but he did the following-and-groveling thing. And sure enough, we ended up at Kay again.”

Yasmine looks down at her bracelet-clogged arm, a forlorn expression swimming over her pretty features.

“I don’t know why I keep letting this happen.” She sighs. “It’s like trying to plug up a boat leak with fucking office tape.”

“Why don’t you break up with him?”

“I wish I could!” Moon’s caught off-guard by the genuine despair lacing Yasmine’s words. “I’ve rehearsed the speech a billion times. But…every time I’m around him, it’s like I’m hit with some kind of emotional tidal wave. And suddenly I can’t bear the thought of ending things.”

She looks so lost. So frantic. So helpless.

“I see him and all I can think about is how much I want him,” she goes on. “No room for anything else. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it freaks me out.”

Once upon a time, Moon might have called that love. She knows better now.

She wants to reach across the table and take Yasmine’s hand. Reassure her that this is what overpowering teenage crushes are like. That of course your mind finds ways to make hormones and attraction centered around one person seem like the be-all end-all of everything. Hell, she remembers feeling that way about Hawk before she came down from the high and realized how incompatible they were.

But Moon doesn’t. She can’t.

“Something’s not right with me, Moon.” Yasmine’s voice is quiet and fragile—a tone Moon hasn’t heard for a long time. “Sometimes, I don’t—I don’t feel like myself. You remember that week you were in Cancun? I went to the mall with Sam and Demetri, and Sam was complimenting the lemon balm perfume I had on, but you know I never wear lemon-scented shit. Like what am I, a cleaning product?!”

Moon laughs, gladly taking Yasmine’s implicit offer to lighten the atmosphere.

That was one thing Moon always appreciated about her. She never passed up an opportunity to use snarky bluntness to make a joke out of something unpleasant.

It’s part of why her and Demetri’s connection hadn’t surprised Moon. At least not initially.

The strange thing was that their bond got as far as it did.

“At first I thought it was because something stuck to me when I walked through the perfume section of Macy’s,” Yasmine goes on. “But we all went through there, and I couldn’t smell any lemon shit on Sam and Demetri. Am I going crazy or what?”

Moon pushes away the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Maybe it’s Sam who’s imagining things.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Yasmine’s voice grows terse with panic. “But then Demetri starts bragging about how I always wear the lemon perfume when I go out on dates with him. With the air of someone who, like, actually believes what they’re saying. And I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Like Demetri knows anything about perfumes. He probably got it mixed up with that bergamot one you like.”

Her reassurance doesn’t appear to work.

“Whatever,” Yasmine huffs. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Moon lets Demetri slip from the conversation, fading into mental oblivion as they leave the food court and head for H&M. Yasmine brightens almost immediately, losing herself gushing over cute pink dresses and fuzzy purple sweaters and champagne-tinted heels. The afternoon passes easily, sliding in and out of changing rooms and twirling and laughing in front of department store mirrors.

For a while, Moon can almost forget the overpowering fear emanating from her closest friend. She can almost forget feeling like the world’s cruelest sociopath.

When Moon knocks on the door to 44101 Portico Place for the first time in months, she’s only half expecting an answer.

It’s 5:00 on a Wednesday, so plenty of time for any after-school extracurriculars to finish up. But, of course, showing up anywhere unannounced always has the potential to go disastrously wrong.

Demetri helped her develop a healthy dose of pessimism. She isn’t sure whether to be grateful.

The door opens after only a couple minutes.

“Moonshine? What’s going on?”

Moon offers a strained smile. “Hey, Pipes.”

Piper frowns at her across the threshold, looking more concerned than angry. It makes Moon feel all the guiltier.

“Is everything okay?” Piper asks.

“Sorry to bother you. It’s—it’s about Yasmine. And you’re one of the only people I felt like I could ask.”

She winces at the flash of hurt in Piper’s face. Her ex leans on the doorframe, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Go on,” she says, tone resigned.

“So…” Moon takes a breath. “Remember when you said you couldn’t be with me until I figured my feelings for Yasmine out?”

“Yeah?”

“I…may have done some light spellcasting and accidentally hexed her into falling in love with a gay guy.”

Piper blinks a few times, taking a moment to process everything. Finally she groans, running a hand over her face.

“Jesus Christ, Moon. Come in—I’ll get us both some fucking edibles for this.”

Piper’s living room is exactly how Moon remembers it—cream-colored couches, tasteful wall décor, chic modern fireplace. A goofy, surfboard-shaped coffee table that Piper’s parents had once tried to sell at a yard sale, but little Piper screamed and cried and beat the ground with her fists until they relented to keeping her favorite piece of furniture.

Now, Moon props her sandaled feet up on a bar that runs underneath it. The metal is cold against her skin.

She tries to focus on that. Sensations in the here and now. Things immediate and tangible.

Not the abstract mess she’s caused.

Piper returns after a few minutes, placing a glass of carrot ginger lemonade and a small gummy on a coaster. Moon picks up the gummy, tentatively taking a nibble.

Piper chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not that many mils. I don’t want us to be totally baked.”

Moon takes a more generous bite.

“So.” Piper sits next to her and takes a sip of her own concoction—some kind of purplish whey smoothie. “What did you do?”

Moon gathers her thoughts, working through how best to phrase it.

“You remember when we first met?”

“Sure.” Piper smiles thinly. “Our parents dragged us to that dumb gala, and I found you sobbing your eyes out in the bathroom because your ex-best-friend threw you out like you were nothing. And then I went on to find you have a terrible habit of swooning over the world’s most horrendous shitbags.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I guess so, huh?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “I told you. Over and over and over.”

“I know, I know.” Moon sighs, wearily admitting defeat. “About a week before that party, Yasmine and I had a phone call. And she just…cut into me. Said so many awful things. And I get it. I mean, her sweet sixteen got ruined and then as like…icing on the cake, I ditched her for the people she hated. But I don’t think anyone’s ever broken me down like that before.”

Piper tosses a comforting arm around her shoulder. For a moment, they’re back on tile floors under harsh fluorescent lighting, puffing blunts and snickering about fake people.

“I know,” Piper says softly. “And when I found you, you were still pretty shaken from it. I hope I helped.”

Despite herself, Moon leans into her.

“You helped more than you know.”

“Clearly not enough to stop you from going out and doing some sort of supernatural fuckery.”

Moon laughs softly. “That’s the thing, though. I think it was already too late.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath.

“That night, after Yasmine hung up on me…I don’t know. It felt like my whole life shattered. I guess in a moment of weakness, I pulled out my spellbook.”

Piper narrows her eyes. “You said you only ever used that thing to ‘cleanse the house of bad energy’ or whatever. Or give yourself good luck charms on tests. Not—”

“—cursing people, I know,” Moon finishes. “I was so upset that I wasn’t thinking straight. I recited this whole incantation that was supposed to make Yasmine know how it felt to want someone who would never want her back. And, um…I guess the love gods interpreted that as her getting down bad for a guy who doesn’t even like women.”

“Wait. Isn’t that the same guy who did an MTV-style roast of your weird ex that one time?”

Moon sighs wearily. “That’s Demetri all right.”

“I knew it.” Piper pounds her fist into the couch triumphantly. “Of course he’s gay. Straight dudes don’t pull that kind of petty shit.”

“He’s not exactly subtle, is he?”

“Nope.”

It’s Piper’s turn to sigh, eyeing Moon with an almost pitying look.

“Are you sure Yasmine doesn’t genuinely like him, and just has a shit gaydar? Or she’s really deep in denial? I know I’ve pined after my fair share of straight girls.”

Moon shakes her head. “I second-guessed myself for a long while. Thought maybe I was wrong about Demetri. Or maybe Yasmine had changed so much that she really is into the whole geek shtick now. But…”

She takes a long sip of her carrot ginger lemonade, hoping the intense flavor will somehow give her strength.

“She acts like an entirely different person whenever we’re with him. And…not really in a good ‘he makes her want to be better’ type of way. More like she’s forgotten everything she likes and every aspect of her being that isn’t related to her boyfriend.”

Piper stares at an abstract, avant-garde wall painting, deep in thought.

“Maybe she’s, like, stuck in a codependence loop,” she says. “You said she was pretty clingy with you freshman and sophomore year, right?”

“That was different, though. She acted one way alone with me and one way out in public, sure. But it made sense. Whenever we see Demetri, it’s like Yasmine’s being mind-controlled by one of those thirsty freshmen who think Demetri’s the hottest guy in school because he won a karate fight one time. Then as soon as I get Yas alone, she doesn’t seem to remember half of what she said or did. And when I fill her in, she gets super embarrassed. Not that Yas can’t put on a façade if she needs, but…why would she intentionally make an idiot of herself if she’s gonna be mortified an hour later? She’s not impulsive like that.”

Piper shrugs. “Hormones make people act stupid. I did some truly absurd shit the first time I was trying to get chicks to notice me.”

“Hormones don’t make you go into a weird trance that your brain bleaches right after. People only wish that happened.”

“Maybe Yasmine’s lucky enough to have a brain that can bleach on command,” says Piper cheekily. “Or maybe she’s way too proud to admit she’s being dumb over a boy, so she tries to like…will it out of existence through not acknowledging it.”

“It’s not just about the embarrassment, though.” Moon sucks in her breath. “Every time she realizes about the memory gaps, she’s scared. Like she knows something’s wrong with her.”

Piper groans, leaning back against the couch and sprawling her arms across a cushion. “Can we prove she’s not being a diva? Leave it to Yasmine to make a fucking ocean’s worth of fuss about the same teen angst literally everyone deals with.”

Moon winces at the scorn in Piper’s voice.

It really is a shitty move, asking her ex-girlfriend for help with a girl she knows Piper can’t stand. That Piper has a damn good reason to hate. Assuming the worst about Yasmine’s romance troubles is only fair.

But what other choice did Moon have? It’s not like her scientifically-minded friends, with their AP classes and their blocked chakras, would believe her about a magic spell gone awry.

“She starts smelling like the spell components whenever she’s near Demetri,” Moon says flatly. “And a couple of them came out of her hair. It’s not stuff she’d ever wear otherwise.”

Piper sits back up, suddenly fully alert with her arms crossed.

“You could have led with that.”

“I thought the weird, erratic behavior was more important!”

“As if I’d have a hard time believing that girl would have mood swings.” Piper’s grimace falters slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Like. Moonshine, that’s your type.”

“Shut up!”

Moon swats her. Piper chuckles briefly before her expression grows pained again.

She processes everything for a moment, groaning again and putting her face in her hand.

“Christ, girl,” she mumbles. “If this is real…yeah, that’s a pretty big fuckup. I’m not the biggest Yasmine fan, but yeesh.”

“I know.” Moon makes a face. “Trust me, I never meant to mess with her mind like that, but—”

“—you were hurting so much that you did anyway.”

“…more or less. I think, deep down, I didn’t believe anything would happen. It was to make me feel better in the moment.”

“Yeah, I know you.” Piper looks up, offering her a small smile. “I think you’d have an easier time permanently giving up smoothies than intentionally hurting someone.”

“I just feel so awful!” Moon wails, guilt bubbling up and erupting out of her like a volcano. “I know Yasmine hasn’t been the best person, but she should be able to at least choose who she loves. Even if that’s never going to be me.”

“So…did you come here so I could make you feel better?” Piper scrutinizes her. “Because I won’t lie—I’m kind of at a loss right now.”

“I don’t know.” Moon sighs again. “I came here because you’re the only person I trust who I figured would like…entertain this whole thing. Anyone else would call me crazy.”

Because at the end of the day, Piper may be rough-edged and butch and intimidating, but she’s open-minded. She’s willing to hear anyone’s point of view, and tries to embrace every walk of life. And she’s never one to dismiss possibilities outright, no matter how absurd they sound. No matter how “weird” the people saying them are.

It’s part of what initially drew the two of them together. Well…that and acai bowls.

“Right. So you want solutions.”

It’s almost embarrassing how fast Piper deduces it.

“That…that would be great.”

Piper takes a long sip of her health smoothie, slurps echoing around the room.

“Seems like a proximity thing. You said she acts more lucid when she’s away from Demetri, right?”

“Right.”

“So make plans to hang out, get her alone, and snap her out of it.”

Moon bites her lip. “I’m, uh…not sure how.”

“Demetri makes her act like she’s not herself, so…” Piper shrugs. “Remind her who she really is.”

Moon chuckles hollowly.

“That’s the other thing. I don’t entirely dislike the person she’s become thanks to the…Demetri thing. She’s a lot nicer, for one. And less judgmental.”

Piper seems to be holding back laughter.

“So…you want Yasmine to be her true self and get her free will back and all, but you’re worried that when she does…she’ll be someone you and everyone else will personally find less palatable?”

Moon glowers at her. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad!”

A snicker finally worms its way out.

“Yeah, because it’s an incredibly shady thing to say.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Moon huffs. “Look, isn’t there some way to undo the spell without undoing her growth? Because like…in a weird way, I feel like she has grown as a person since she got magicked into being obsessed with Demetri. Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, but you’re being awfully picky for someone who doesn’t even know if or how they can reverse their own paranormal fuck-up.”

“I thought you might know of a way to do some kind of partial reversal. Make her stop being crazy about Demetri, but keep some of the good ways she’s changed?”

“Sooooo.” Piper slurps more of her smoothie, expression growing insufferably smug. “Considering that fucking around with the nuance of this already-opaque-sounding spell is an objectively terrible idea…the way I see it, you have two options. You can break the spell and let Yasmine be whoever she wants, even if it’s someone who kind of sucks. Or you can leave her to be this weird enigmatic love curse’s braindead meat puppet for the rest of her days—with the perk that she’s more pleasant to be around. So what’s it gonna be, Moonshine?”

“But surely there’s some way to—”

“Uh-uh.” Piper cuts her off. “Look, I don’t know any more about this stuff than you do, but I doubt we’re talking about a spectrum here. Can’t have your cake and eat it too and all that. Either we lift the curse, or we don’t, so…what do you want to do?”

After a long moment, Moon sighs.

“I want Yasmine to be free.”

“So you need to do what I said. Remind her who she really is.”

“Even if…‘who she really is’ turns out to be mean and self-centered and kind of awful?”

“Eeyup. That’s Yasmine. Take her or leave her.”

“Even if it undoes all her personal growth from the last year?”

“That’s the conundrum, isn’t it?” Piper leans nonchalantly against the back of the couch, arm on the headboard. “We don’t know how much of that was the spell, and how much was the real Yasmine wanting to improve herself. So we gotta let the real Yasmine out and hope for the best, yeah?”

Moon looks down at her lap and smiles, shaking her head. “People won’t be too thrilled to have her back.”

“Then that’s going to be her problem, not yours. If you’re such a bitch that you need magic intervention to make you tolerable, then maybe you deserve to lose all your friends.”

It sounds harsh, but Moon can’t argue.

“Hey, c’mon.” Piper scoots over, playfully nudging Moon’s side. “I know how much you cared about her. That’s why it felt like your world was ending when she cut you off. And why you were still hung up on her while we were together. So there must’ve been something in there you thought was worth fighting for.”

And of course there was.

Because this was Yasmine. The same Yasmine who danced like a dork and smiled with dimples as soon as no one was watching. The same Yasmine who yanked Moon into every single one of her snapchat stories, no matter how mundane. The same Yasmine who didn’t think twice about defending Moon’s honor when she thought Sam was talking shit, and told Sam to get the hell out of Moon’s Benz.

The same Yasmine who talked about her and Moon as a single intertwined unit. Unfathomable to her as something that would ever split, until that fateful night on the beach. The same Yasmine who trusted that wherever one of them went, the other would follow.

Sure, there was plenty about her that was cruel and vindictive and conceited. And she’d spent her time at West Valley High so drunk on her own power that she kept digging herself a deeper and deeper grave, earning the hatred of most of her classmates. Good looks could only got you so far when you leaked poison and bile from every pore in your body.

But who is Moon to decide which traits Yasmine gets to keep, and which are magicked away? Who is Moon to remold Yasmine into a watered-down, docile amalgamation of what had once been her assets, when not so long ago, Moon fell in love with the entire picture?

And now Yasmine’s a hollowed-out shell of a person, all empty smiles and lifeless giggles. A painting cobbled together by some computer program—beautiful and polished and splendid on the surface, but a closer look reveals the details are all off.

A closer look reveals something without a soul, no light behind those sharp gray-green eyes.

“Fuck,” Moon says miserably, head sliding into her hands. “I want my best friend back.”

“So go get her back, then.” Piper nudges her again. “And maybe go easy on the evil curses this time? I don’t know, just a suggestion.”

“Oh, stop.” Moon scoffs, but there’s no real venom in it.

Piper rolls her eyes, although not unfondly.

“I wish I’d known you back then.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I could’ve told you from the jump that fucking with the occult was a bad idea. Yes, even when a girl breaks your heart. Which, in my opinion, is the highest and most profound type of pain.”

“Naturally.”

Moon sighs wearily, smile fading.

“I don’t know if anyone could’ve stopped me, honestly. When she—when she broke what we had, it was like I’d fallen into some rushing river and I could barely keep my head up. And I was headed right for one of those tall waterfalls with sharp rocks at the bottom from adventure movies. For whatever reason, lashing out felt like the only way to get a breath of air.”

Piper hums thoughtfully.

“I will say that this all makes me feel better about how I reacted the first time someone rejected me. I liked this girl Lila in the sixth grade, and when she found out, she called me a fat ugly dyke in front of all her friends. So I filled her locker with sweaty gym clothes.”

Moon wrinkles her nose as Piper cackles. “Ew, Pipes! You’re disgusting!”

“Okay, but I don’t summon Satan to make my crush want to fuck a gay guy senseless.”

“I did not summon Satan—”

“Sorry, Satan’s right-hand man Joe the Sexual Orientation Confuser.”

“Imagine if there were demons that actually did that.” The concept is admittedly intriguing. “They get sent up from the underworld or wherever solely to make cosmically cursed straights fall in love with cosmically cursed gays. And cosmically cursed gays fall in love with cosmically cursed straights.”

“Shit.” Piper grimaces again. “Wonder what I did to piss Joe off.”

“You’ve really liked that many straight girls?” Moon has to giggle.

“You have no idea,” Piper mumbles. “And trust me—your ex wasn’t the first guy to assume I played for the other team.”

“Not sure his heart was in that one. I think he wanted get a rise out of me, honestly. No offense.”

“Oh my god. The sheer irony.”

“He really thought I’d get jealous of my own girlfriend. As if there’s any girl I’d care about my unserious two-month fling hitting on.”

And then they’re both laughing, swaying on the couch and clutching at one another to keep from toppling over.

“Hi, I’m your run-of-the-mill punk poser and I think I get more ass than a proctologist!” Piper grabs the couch arm, attempting to do dramatic poses as she talks. “I know you’re frantic to have me back, even though my only skills are yelling and punching my friends for no reason!”

“Stoooop.” Despite herself, Moon only laughs harder. It’s probably just the edible finally kicking in. “You’re so rude!”

“Like your ex even knows how not to be an inappropriate, boundary-crossing weirdo.”

“He’s getting better!”

“Because he’s finally learning after his 7th attempt that asking a girl you just met to fondle your gelled-up hairdo isn’t going to wield results.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“He totally would, though!”

Moon snickers, shaking her head.

“Fine, yeah. He would.”

As the laughter dies down, Piper’s phone buzzes. She picks it up, frowning as she reads a text on her home screen.

“Hey, I gotta run soon. One of the kids from the dojo is hosting pizza night.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

It’s amusing, really, how easy it is to forget Piper’s in Cobra Kai now. If the dojo’s truly the all-powerful, all-corrupting force Eli claims, then Moon’s ex-girlfriend must be entirely immune. Even if she and Piper haven’t spoken in a while, Moon hasn’t seen any evidence whatsoever of Piper caving to some kind of deeply-buried inner asshole.

Not that it was buried too deep, in Eli’s case.

“It’s fun. Good exercise during the gymnastics off-season.” Piper shrugs. “Some of the people in my class take it way too seriously, though. Like it’s high school karate, not the fucking Cuban missile crisis!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard.” Moon makes a face. “I was…kind of worried for you when I heard you joined. They treat it like a cult.”

“Oh, please.” Piper scoffs. “Like I’d ever buy into those sorts of stupid dramatics. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it can be fun to spar with people who’re so intense about it that they act like their fucking life is on the line. Makes things interesting. But I’m mostly there for the free shit.”

“Really?” Moon cocks an eyebrow. “You always seem so excited on your snapchats.”

“Yeah, like, it’s good energy. Everyone’s super passionate. But it gets to be a little much sometimes, you know? The senseis treat it like this huge life-or-death thing. Like sure, placing in a global tournament would be cool, but it’s not that big a deal? And sometimes I wonder how much my teammates are actually, like, enjoying themselves, and how much they’re stressing over nothing.” Piper purses her lips disdainfully. “Honestly? I’m going to rack up as much free equipment as I can, and then I’m gonna ditch them for Topanga or something. They seem way more chill.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Moon frowns. “I know they can go psycho when someone quits. Look what happened to Hawk.”

“Any of those bitches come at me with a razor and I’ll beat their ass into next week.” Piper rolls her eyes, unfazed. “And what the hell are the senseis going to do? Call the cops on me for quitting their dojo? They’ll get laughed off the phone.”

“Just…be careful. I don’t want Cobra Kai hurting anyone else I care about.”

Before she can stop herself, she reaches out and squeezes Piper’s hand. The other girl turns and fixes her with a pale green gaze, expression unreadable.

“Okay,” she says quietly, tone turning serious.

Piper’s phone buzzes again, and the moment ends.

“Damn,” she mutters, glancing at her texts. “I forgot I said I’d bring jaeger bombs. I’d better get ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” Moon pulls away, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hope I could help.”

They stand up, and Piper starts to walk her out. Moon stares at the floor, suddenly feeling anxious again.

She stops right before they reach the front door. “What you said to do with Yasmine…what if it doesn’t work?”

“You better hope it does, because otherwise you’re going to have to consult the dark web or something. And then you’ll have to wade through about 70 sites with the most degenerate porn you’ve ever seen before finding anything useful.”

Moon laughs, tension easing.

“I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens. Or if.”

“Exactly. One thing at a time.”

“Well…I’ll let you go.” Moon offers Piper one last smile, opening the front door. “Have fun at your pizza party, okay?”

She’s halfway onto the porch when Piper catches her wrist, pulling her back.

“Hey, Moonshine…”

She turns. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said before.” Piper bites her lip, meeting Moon’s eyes nervously. “About, um…if you sort through this whole Yasmine thing, and you ever decide you want to try again…all you have to do is ask.”

The surprise on Moon’s face must throw her for a loop.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to sit on my ass waiting around,” she amends quickly, grip loosening. “I can’t promise I won’t move on. And I’m not, like, some piney mess who’s got nothing better to do than try and ‘win you back’ or whatever. But if you’re ever feeling it, and Yasmine’s not an issue anymore…just ask. The worst I’ll do is say no.”

And before Moon knows what she’s doing, she steps back inside and wraps Piper in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the thick, bushy hair she remembers loving so much. “For helping. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it.”

“I know.” Slowly but surely, Piper hugs her back. “But someone has to check you before you cause some domino effect that sends half the school into a sexuality crisis.”

***

Some author's notes, in no particular order:

I will literally die on the hill that Demetri is a bad boyfriend. All he's ever done IN CANON has been to objectify and generally be gross with Yasmine??? And the lead up to the whole icky "sexual venn diagram" comment was basically "hey, you should settle for me because I'm popular now and everyone thinks you're a laughingstock <3" Like wow! What a great way to treat the girl you're supposed to be "101% in love with"! And in S4 onwards he doesn't appear to know jack shit ABOUT her and just puts her on this pedestal as his "dream girl" while never actually mentioning anything about her personality.

I'm honestly not surprised that the natural progression of their relationship in S5 was (most likely) Yasmine getting fed up with Demetri not giving any visible shits about who she is as a person, and getting into fights with him the second she starts asserting her own wants and needs outside of him. And of course he gets her shallow jewelry gifts to placate her, which is just further proof he doesn't know her at all--it reads like he just saw on the internet that "girls like jewelry." And it's not like it actually solves anything, considering he's gotten her so many apology gifts that she can "barely lift her arm"! Tbh it pisses me off to not end that people whine and bitch about Demetri being a "bad friend" (which is so easily disproved it's not even funny) and don't make a peep about the gross way he treats his own fucking canon love interest. Please roast my trash son Demetri Alexopoulos for the RIGHT reasons!!!

I really did my damndest to keep Yasmine as canon-compliant as possible here. I do think she and Moon messed around in S1 and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise, but I tried to keep everything we see of her here consistent with how she acts onscreen in seasons 1, 3, and 5. Season 4 is the obvious odd man out, which...needless to say is kinda the point XD But you take S4 out of the mix and accept some weird fluke was going on that was making her act that way, and we get something semi-plausible to work with! Hopefully she comes across as in-character (from what little we see of her!) here.

Also she does not love it when Demetri talks nerdy. Aisha and Sam's S1 salt conversation proves that she is not about it when people talk about nerdy school-related shit that reads like an inside joke she can't get in on (which applies to...most school-related things, considering she's shown to be kind of book dumb). She loves when Demetri gets her good grades, but she doesn't like. Have any inherent interest in school-related "nerdy" things??? And has never been shown to??? "Character development" shouldn't come out of nowhere and involve characters randomly getting into things they have never been shown to be drawn to actually!

I also hope I did an okay job writing Piper here! I wish I could write more MoonPiper, but we get!!! So ANNOYINGLY little of them and of Piper in general??? Like seriously, I went back and rewatched all the Piper scenes in the show, and there's like. Maybe 5 or 6 in THE WHOLE SHOW??? I barely have anything to work with and it is AGGRAVATING because I really love Piper and MoonPiper as a ship!!! And I want to do it justice that isn't just me projecting my own headcanons and theories because I don't know what else to do!!!

I really do think Piper is Not As Invested in Cobra Kai as everyone else though, lmao. Like she is there for shits and giggles, and also free merch. She respects herself too much to become a slave to the "cobra kai for life" bullshit lol

It IS incredibly funny to me that Moon gets more homoerotic scenes with her Super Totally Straight Best Friend than with the girl who was canonically her girlfriend. Like I love both ships, I really do, but when they give Yas and Moon SO many fruity scenes while their boyfriends are also being fruity, what did they EXPECT!!! Of COURSE I'm going to write YasMoon like my life depends on it!!!

Also, Moon saw that nacho nonsense with Hawk and Demetri in S2. She saw Hawk yank Demetri onstage during Valley Fest. She saw Hawk get all snippy about Demetri hitting on girls at the beach. She saw Hawk throw a hissy fit because his boyfriend bestie wouldn't join his evil dojo. She damn well knows they're gay!

And so does Piper ajadhskufbhd these girls weren't born yesterday!

Hoping to get this entire fic up on AO3 sometime in November! :3

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