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sobfultoast · 2 months

Note

Hi! It's me who sent the request a few hours ago. Everyone makes mistakes and it's completely fine that you accidentally deleted it. My bad for being anonymous. 😅

Can I request the brother's reactions to MC who smokes/vapes?

Btw I really love your work!

THANK YOU!

•°~◇ Smoking ◇~°•

Prompt: Here are the demons' opinions on smoking/vaping, do they smoke/vape and their reactions to an MC who smokes/vapes.

+ Them supporting an MC who wants to quit.

A lot of demons smoke as it doesn't hurt them. It's more of a treat to them; a pack of 20 is the same price as a chocolate bar. Demons can get addicted to it, though, as it is shown demons can get addictions (Example being Mammon's addiction to gambling).

Vapes are a new trend in devildom and are ridiculously pricey. So, lots of demons stick to smoking rather than vaping unless they want to be trendy. Good luck buying a vape in devildom. They're like £60 for a standard vape.

As soon as you came to devildom, Lucifer made the house rule that none of the brothers could smoke/vape in the house. They were not happy.

(CW: Smoking, obviously; mention of health issues; Overprotective and worried demons; Addictions)

• ° ~ ◇ ~ ° •

Lucifer

Lucifer hates the fact that he smokes. He started smoking just after his fall. He and some noble demons were attending one of Diavolo's dinners. Everyone else was smoking. It was a sign of richness and luxury back years ago on earth, and that also translated to Devildom as well. Lucifer's felt pressured to also try them and has been hooked ever since.

He has to deal with 6 trouble magnets that he calls his brothers (7 trouble magnets if including you). Smoking helps relieve the stress of managing that. He is like that type of mum who has a glass of wine in his left hand and a cigarette in the other.

Lucifer isn't interested in vapes. It's nothing more than a trend that will pass eventually to him.

If you do try and hide the fact you smoke or vape, good luck. You can't hide it from him. He'll find out quickly, almost as soon as you arrive. Lucifer has weekly room inspections, and he'll sniff your hidden stash out like a blood hound.

Because he'll find out so early, he isn't really emotionally attached to you yet. All he does is go: "Tch... Not in the house." If his brothers find out the human smokes/vapes, they'll get all annoyed about why they have to go outside to smoke now. So, to at least make it fair, the same rule applies to you.

After a year, he regrets that reaction of his. He knows the risks it has to humans. It's why he made all his brothers go outside. He doesn't like knowing you're constantly at risk of health issues every time you take a puff.

He's worried. Unlike you, smoking doesn't harm him. Lucifer will be relieved if you say you want to quit. He decides he'll quit with you so you can support one another. You don't even have to ask him. Lucifer just wants to make sure you live a long life with him.

Mammon

Mammon smokes often. His go to is cigarettes and also cigars. Mammon is too broke to buy Vapes in devildom, so if you ever see him with one, it's most likely stolen. Probably from Asmodeus. He was in shock when he went to the human world and saw how expensive smoking is. £16 for a pack of just 20! What a rip-off! Grrr...

He had no clue that nicotine harms humans. So when Lucifer made a rule to not smoke in the house, he didn't understand. Mammon was not happy, so he tried sneaking around Lucifer. He was always caught.

Hiding it from Mammon is also very hard but not impossible. Your room is his room, and he has gone through "his" whole room a million times. He'll find it if you hide it in your room so if you hide it outside of your room, there is less of a chance. If he does find it, he won't confront you about it. He doesn't know it hurts humans. He just takes them for himself.

Mammon is always stealing his brothers' cigarettes and vapes, so he is also definitely stealing yours. The only difference between you and his brothers is that he'll actually share his cigs with you. Until he finds out about the dangers.

Smoking can be deadly to humans? And my human is smoking them?! Mammon is overprotective of you so of course he is against you using them! Mammon will pester you to stop it. He'll even help you himself by smoking yours before you! So heroic.

If you say you want to quit, he is very happy with your choice. He'll try and avoid anyone smoking around you, and Mammon never hesitates to praise you for your progress.

Will he quit with you? He'll try. He'll have a lot of hic ups. Temptation is everywhere in hell, especially for an impulsive demon like himself, but if it means he can support and help you? He'll try his damn best.

Leviathan

Leviathan doesn't smoke often. Levi only smokes when on the ships as everyone else is often doing it, and it relaxes him when surrounded by people. You can also find him smoking if his phone or handheld device dies when in public.

Levi doesn't vape, even if he seems like a type of person who would. They're just so pricy and such a normie trend in his eyes. He'd rather save up for merch.

He used to smoke a lot more in the past. There were a few times where he'd boxed himself in his room and went through a whole pack of cigs. When Lucifer opened the door, it was just 💨. Levi only did that because he had a social event coming up that he couldn't avoid but even with his anxieties, Levi soon decided to stop smoking in his room. It started to damage his merch! And because he is always in his room, he rarely smokes now.

Leviathan does know that smoking harms humans. When he found out one of his favourite human idols smokes, he was sending them spam letters to stop. What if your voice drops?! What if you get sick?! He was basically begging them.

Despite that, he does think it looks sorta cool in fiction. Like in those anime scenes where the badass character is smoking in the corner, looking super menacing. It's so edgy of them.

He probably won't find out you smoke/vape unless you deliberately do it around him. Since he is always in his room and there is no smoking/vaping in the house, he probably will never catch you if you hide it.

When he does find out, he is conflicted. He thinks you look sorta cool and totally understands if you're doing it to calm yourself. But, then again, he knows it hurts you! Levi doesn't really know how to respond so he just won't confront you about it nor bring up the idea of quitting. He doesn't want you to get mad or annoyed at him for whatever reason he can think of.

Levi will ask Satan for advice and does support you all the way if you do want to quit. He'll always keep his attention on your behaviour and will give you lots of praise and encouragement! Just look how far you got! He's so proud of you. It's okay to have setbacks, we all have them!

Satan

Satan smoked on the rare occasion. Satan never smoked in the house as well. He knew it was damaged and stains books, so he always went outside if he ever did. But when a certain someone made a rule to not smoke in house, he might have started purposely smoking around the house. Out of pure spite.

Satan stopped smoking around the house after the body swapped situation. He became so much less hateful towards Lucifer after that, and also so much closer towards you. Satan now avoids smoking around you and has always avoided doing it around cats. He knows what second hand smoke does to mortal creatures.

Satan is also another brother you can't hide it from. Satan is basically a certified detective. He'll catch on.

Satan won't pressure you to stop. He knows people smoke for all sorts of reasons. From addiction to coping mechanisms, everyone has a reason, and he understands that it is sometimes complicated.

If you tell him you want to quit or start showing any signs that it is affecting your lungs, he will try to suggest alternatives. Such as a vape that has low nicotine density or nicotine patches. If you're just doing it for the motion like some, he'll show you some vapes that are just flavoured vapour. Satan does lots of research into it, so he suggests the best things to try. He wants to make sure you take the best steps in whatever you want to do. He'll be standing right by your side.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus hates smoking. It smells awful. It makes people look awful as it makes your skin look bad and stains your clothes. He hates it.

Vaping is a totally different thing to him, however. It smells and tastes nice. His favourites are the cherry flavoured ones, but he'll also use whatever is popular at the time.

Asmodeus is frustrated that he can't vape in his room. It's his room! He does sneak a puff with his window open, and unlike Mammon, Asmodeus is rarely caught.

Asmodeus will find out if you smoke/vape from your scent alone. This man can tell you the name of the perfume or cologne you are using just from smell. If you've just smoked, he'll notice. He gives you his perfume. "Can't have you smelling so dreadful, darling! Here. Now you can smell as good as me!"

Asmo won't point out the vape smell as it smells better than tobacco. If it is one of his favourites, however, he'll definitely point it out. You guys have so much in common! He loves that one too!

Asmodeus does know smoking is a risk to humans but he just didn't care. It didn't concern him... Until he fell for you. Now it kinda does.

Out of the brothers, Asmodeus is probably one of the calmer ones if you vape. You both end up having a box of vapes that you hide from Mammon. Asmodeus wouldn't like it if you smoked though. Asmo really does hate the smell of them. Please avoid smoking around him. He gets enough of it from the clubs in his opinion.

Asmodeus is with you every step of the way if you quit. He'll keep his stash as hidden as he can from you and maybe even slowly stop using them as much himself. He pampers you and helps distract you from your addiction. Asmodeus is your biggest cheerleader throughout your journey!

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is the only brother to not smoke or vape. Even if he tried, he'll just end up eating it anyway... They do not taste good.

He thinks vapes smell tasty. Why are they always based as food? They get him drooling. He has eaten one of Asmodeus' vapes. Again, they don't taste good. It's a false advertisement.

It can be easy to hide it from beel. I don't see him picking up on it unless you have started dying after every run, but again, you could tell him it's just a human thing and he'll trust what you're saying.

Beelzebub does know it harms humans because of his body building classes. He has given some humans advice there and learnt that smoking damages your lungs from these said humans.

Beelzebub then began asking Belphie to avoid smoking around you. Beel didn't want you to get hurt at all. Just to find out you smoke/vape yourself. Why??? He just doesn't understand.

Beelzebub does ask questions why and still struggles, understanding why'd you do something that harms your fragile human body...

He will show distaste for it when he sees you doing it. Every time you take a puff around him, he looks like a kicked puppy. Beel doesn't like knowing you are hurting yourself.

If you decide to quit, he is very enthusiastic about that idea. He'll get you foods to distract yourself. He heard sunflower seeds and gum are food a lot of ex-smokers use as a distraction. Beel will also ask all his brothers if they'd also like to quit alongside you. If not, could they just avoid smoking around you. Beel just wants you to be okay.

Belphegor

Belphie smokes. He picked it up as a distraction to cope after the fall and found comfort in it.

Belphegor doesn't know it harms humans despite his knowledge about humans. When he was interested in humankind, we didn't know anything about cancer and etc. After the fall, Belphie lost interest and just didn't learn.

Belphie didn't smoke at all in the attic. Belphie was going mad, especially with the nightmares of Lilith. He didn't have Beel or anything other than nap. As soon as he gets out, he'll smoke in the house. Lucifer scolds him for it but why should he care? He was trapped in the attic for months. He doesn't even hide it. He literally pulled out a cigarette at the dining table during family dinner.

Hiding it from him is easy. When he does find out, he is confused about why you would hide it from him though? Even when he learns about all the harmful consequences, he understands why someone would smoke/vape so why hide it from him.

He is probably the most chilled brother about it. You two watch the stars with the reassuring yet cold breeze as you share a lighter for your cigarettes.

Belphegor does also vape. They're convenient. He doesn't have to roll or light anything, which his lazy self appreciates.

If you wanna quit, of course he'll support you. You can't smoke if your stuck napping with him, right? Belphie doesn't like the idea of quitting. Then again, Belphie dislikes a lot of things but he'll always do them for you.

•°~◇ Have a good day! ◇~°•

I don't know if this is what you wanted??? But I tried. If you have any criticism, just say. I've never done a request but I hope this is what you wanted.

I know I've been gone for a little while but life. I'm back tho 💪

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om belphegor #om beelzebub #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me #i hope this is good

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

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Could I please get a Hc for Asra about an Mc that acts a lot differently after being brought back? Like maybe they were always slightly on edge all the time or were a lot harder on themselves for even little mistakes they'd make. Being more like Muriel, in the sense they never wanted to talk about their past. So when they forgot their past they were able to let go of that feeling of deep-rooted regret completely. Becoming generally a lot more relaxed and almost happier. Maybe they get their memory back of what they did but because of everything between losing their memory and getting back their able to move on. Fully forgive themselves.

The Arcana HCs: When MC's memory loss changes them

~ this was such an interesting prompt to work with, anon, thank you for sending it! - brainrot ~

Julian

He's a little conflicted, to be honest

He remembers what kind of person you used to be, back when you apprenticed at his clinic during the outbreak of the plague, and he's genuinely happy that you get to have a personal fresh start

But he also knows, from his own experience, how important it is to find closure with your past self even when that's something you can't remember properly

He also hates saying anything remotely negative (unless it's about himself - you two are working on that) so he's not going to bring it up unless you do first

If you do bring it up, he'll happily talk about it with you for as many hours as you have the energy for. He's not afraid of emotionally intense conversations, and he has personal experience to draw on

He will always, always make it clear that he accepts you no matter what and that he's with you for whatever conclusions you come to

If the time comes that your memories return and you start to process them, he is two steps ahead of you on his own journey and so ready to be your shoulder to lean on

Besides, watching you show emotional growth and self-forgiveness is super hot

Asra

Regardless of their opinions on your change, bringing up your past with you is so triggering for them that their default is to avoid it

That's not to say that he refuses to talk about how things used to be, he knows you can handle it now, but after three years of watching you fall into pain and losing you each time he's cautious

They will answer all of your questions honestly though. They don't care to keep secrets from you

And when it comes down to it, he's only as invested in your change as you are. It makes him happy to see you happy!

If that means holding onto the memories of who you used to be on your behalf, they'll do it willingly. They are far more concerned with helping you be master of your own destiny than anything else

He does panic briefly when your memories start to return

There's a weird back and forth for them between relief at seeing you become more whole and anxiety around all the ways that that could hurt you or go wrong

But he will be there for you every step of the way with cuddles and laughs and unconditional love

Nadia

She does her best to hide it, but between who she's heard of you being and who you are now she likes the new you better

Her biggest struggle in the last few years was overcoming her own uncharacteristic insecurity, and it was your confidence that helped her do that. Thinking of you another way doesn't sit so easily with her

That's not to say that she thinks any less of someone who is insecure, or that she thinks past you was somehow inferior

She just likes to leave the past in the past when a fresh start is available

That said, she's also invested in learning as much about you as you're willing to share, so if you ever want to talk about old stories she will give you her full attention and interest

If the times comes that your memories do begin to return, she'll be as gentle and empowering with you as she can

She wants you to become who you want to become, not whoever you think anybody else wants you to be. She will fiercely protect and affirm your own preferences and decisions

She is so proud of who you are and how you're growing and she's so excited to see who you become

Muriel

Honestly, if he could have the same thing happen to him, he wouldn't complain. He doesn't think so as strongly now as he did when he first saw your changed state, but it's still enticing

He likes seeing how free you've become

More than that, he likes sharing this new life with you. His past has always weighed so heavily on him that having someone like you around is a chance to think about the future instead

He's happy to listen if you want to talk about it, but he's not going to bring it up if you don't

Once you do start remembering your past again, it ends up being a lot easier for both of you than he expected

Contrary to trapping you, your memories seem to only make you more whole. Processing them isn't easy for you, but you're doing it and you're growing from and incorporating it and you're moving on

Watching you do this is reassuring him that he's on the right path as well, that it's possible to live with his memories in a way that doesn't ignore them or trap him in them or weigh him down

You two are going to do so much healing and growing together

Portia

She has a harder time accepting how things are for you

Mostly because she doesn't have the full picture. She didn't know you before the plague, so your past is just as hazy and mysterious to her as it is to you

Except that she has no idea what it's like to be missing memories. She carries her memories everywhere she goes, and the thought of you not being able to know all of who you are is really sad for her

She brings it up quite often, whether she's asking you for your theories or pumping Asra for stories about a younger you, and hearing about who you used to be makes her want to meet them

Eventually she'll come to terms with letting you allow yourself to let go of your past, even if it gives her a strange sense of defeat

She gets really excited for you when your memories begin to return and you start to talk about it

She does have these moments, when you remember something sad or painful, when she realizes that forgetting may have been a kinder thing for you

Ultimately, whoever you want to become and however you want to heal, she will support you with all her heart

Lucio

Frankly, there isn't a lot of time or space in your relationship to think much about your past

He didn't know you before the plague, and who he was before the plague is not something he's particularly interested in revisiting, and you're both quite busy building a new life from a clean slate

Who you are now is all he's known, and he likes you very much

When your memories do come back and you start to process them, it might trigger him a little bit

You're his anchor, his source of comfort and strength to confront his own past mistakes and push towards being a better person

So when the old habits you're remembering are all of you being hard on yourself for understandable, minor slip-ups, he's suddenly wondering if you're this hard on him in your own mind too

How does he know that you've really forgiven him when you struggle to forgive yourself?

Hearing his point of view helps you give yourself grace in your own process, and for him, watching you grow is truly inspiring

He wants to be better like you, and here you are living out a whole tutorial!

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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willowworkswithwords · 4 months

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Simple Acts

1999 saw a lot. The imminent coming of a new century and millennium all at once was thrilling and moving and terrifying. But 1999 saw Eddie and the band reaching a new level, touring and writing and performing in a way they had never really hit until then. They weren’t Madison Square Garden material, but they never really wanted to be anyway, so the cross-country road trips suited them more than fine. Signing onto a new record label that allowed them to really explore their sound was probably one of the best moves they’d made together. It was no dud year for Steve, either. Working at a summer camp was probably the last thing sophomore-Steve would have expected himself to do (besides being gay and knowing it, accepting it, being it). But Steve was outside, he was with kids, he was active all day. And the other counselors were understanding of his migraines, his aches and pains, the days he couldn’t be out on the lake because sometimes it was a trigger to things he really didn’t want the kids witnessing.

But the good had been outweighing the bad for a long time by then. Eddie and Steve had taken some time getting used to each other, way back in 1986, but by ‘88, Steve started to realize the way he saw Eddie was through-and-through different than how he’d ever felt about anyone. He was in love, and in the rain one night, he’d told Eddie.

They were each other’s from that moment onwards.

The house they’d bought together in ‘94 (after sharing an apartment with Robin for five wonderful years in Indy) was a quaint and quirky little two-bedroom down in Kentucky, not three hours from Hawkins, from Wayne and Hopper and Joyce, and the kids’ who’d settled there after all, after everything. (El and Mike, though they’d broken up in ‘87 and stayed platonic since then, to the relief of everyone but especially Hopper.) It wasn’t too far outside Louisville, if they ever wanted to get into the city for some fun. But with Eddie touring as much as he did, when the winter months came and gigs got less abundant, and Steve wasn’t out at the camp nearly as much, they mostly stayed around their town, around their little home, and were happy to be near each other.

Like now. Steve was standing behind Eddie with cheap hair scissors they’d gotten at the Dollar General years ago, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth just enough to make Eddie laugh. The sunlight glinted off the gold band on his ring finger as he compared the left and right halves of Eddie’s (still) long locks. Long hair wasn’t really in fashion anymore, even singers, but Eddie held fast to it. He’d played around with all sorts of variations in the early 90’s, but in the end, the old reliable came right back around.

So every few months they were found like that, sitting out back in their yard, on the deck Wayne and Hopper had helped them build, and trimmed each other’s hair. It was never a bother, never a chore, but a simple bit of life they chose, over and over, to do together.

From this prompt list. Open for requests!! I really like that prompt list, and this just felt right for them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #domestic #domestic bliss #it's the little things #it took them a minute #but now there's no one else for either of them #willow writes #my fic #willow talks

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captainsophiestark · 6 months

Text

Lost Pizza Delivery Guys

Platonic!Percy Jackson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Prompt: Dionysus; Wine, Cups, Dolphins, and Goats

Summary: Percy's cousin and friend on Sally's side helps him celebrate his 21st birthday right.

Word Count: 1,843

Category: Fluff

A/N: I also wrote this oneshot with Percy and his cousin being besties, loosely related to this one! You don't need to read one to understand the other, but in my mind they're in the same universe

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"IDs, please."

I grinned and nudged my cousin excitedly as he pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the bouncer before us. Tonight was his 21st birthday, and this officially marked the first time he got to use his card to get in somewhere.

"Okay, go ahead," said the bouncer, passing our IDs back before stepping aside. "And happy birthday."

"Thanks," said Percy with a smile and a nod as we headed into the bar. I beamed at him, dropping my hands onto his shoulders and jumping up and down a little.

"Welcome to adulthood, Perce! First round's on me, but you put in the order."

"Alright," said Percy, laughing a little at my antics but heading over to the bar with a smile anyway.

After a full-family day of celebrating Percy's 21st birthday, I'd asked for the honor of taking him to his first bar. He'd been all in, and I'd brought him to my favorite place in the city.

Despite being close cousins if you looked at a family tree, I hadn't gotten to be a part of Percy's life until the very end of his high school career. I'd been separate from the family I shared with him and Sally, escaping a bad situation when I was young without looking back. Once I'd gotten to college in New York, however, and knew I had family in the area, I decided to reach out and see if it would be worth reconnecting. And it had turned out to be the best decision I could've made.

My Aunt Sally was absolutely incredible, that went without saying. The few memories I had of her from when I was young were the things that had made me want to reach out in the first place. But finding Percy, who was only a few years younger than me, was like getting the little brother I'd always wanted. Even a little later, when a monster almost took my head off when Percy and I were out getting lunch and I learned about all the Greek mythology stuff, I didn't have even a second of regret over having these people in my life.

Luckily for me, Sally's clear-sightedness ran in the family, so I wasn't completely out of the loop when things came up. And, even better, I could look around the bar and feel confident no monsters were about to interrupt me and my little cousin celebrating his 21st birthday.

"Alright, first a toast," I said, raising my glass towards Percy once we had our drinks. He lifted his, too, grinning at me as I continued. "To you, Percy Jackson, hero of AHS swim team, son of Sally Jackson, and the best cousin I could've ever hoped for."

We clinked glasses, Percy still absolutely beaming, and took the first sips of our drinks. The night had officially begun.

We stayed in the bar for a few hours, laughing and dancing to the live band and occasionally refilling our drinks. Finally though, with a little less than an hour and a half to go before midnight, we wandered outside, smiling like idiots with our arms around each other.

"That was fun," Percy decided as we nodded a goodnight to the bouncer.

"I'm glad. And remember what I told you about drinking lots of water."

"I will. Maybe it'll work even better for me since I'm a son of Poseidon."

"That would be sick."

"Yeah."

We both stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over us, a serious relief for the end of the summer. Percy had planned to spend the last moments of his birthday at Camp, with his girlfriend Annabeth and his best friend Grover. I knew it was time for me to let him go, to get us each a cab and head our separate directions, but I still didn't quite want the night to end.

Apparently, Percy felt the same way. He turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face and a light in his eyes that definitely meant trouble.

"Do you want to come back to Camp with me?"

I laughed, smiling a little even as I shook my head. "Perce, you know as well as I do that I can't. I wish I could, but there's no way for me to get in."

"Actually... no one knows how he did it, but a really lost pizza delivery guy made it through one time."

"If no one knows how he did it, how am I supposed to replicate it?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't know. But it's possible."

I paused, debating with myself for a moment. Worse-case scenario, I couldn't get in and I had a much longer cab ride than necessary. Not ideal, but not the end of the world either. And best case, I'd finally get to see the famous Camp Half-Blood and hang out with Percy and his friends.

"Alright," I finally said, turning back to Percy with a smile. "Let's give it a shot."

"Cool. Then I'm sorry for this."

Before I could ask what he meant, Percy held out his hand and threw a golden coin I recognized as Olympian money onto the street. At the same time, he shouted something in what I guess was ancient Greek, and the pavement before us started to bubble. A moment later, a smoky gray taxi rose out of the ground, suddenly sitting and waiting just in front of where we stood on the curb.

"Whoa," I breathed, a smile making its way onto my face as the astonishment wore off. "That is so cool."

"Maybe wait until after the ride to decide if it's cool."

Despite that shady warning, I got into the cab when Percy opened the door and climbed in with me. In front of us across the driver's bench were three ancient old ladies. It took about thirty seconds for me to realize they only had one eye between them, at which point only love for Percy kept me sitting in the car.

The ride from the bar to Camp Half-Blood were a few of the worst moment of my life. It was terrifying from start to finish, and although the travel was incredibly fast, there was also a stretch of that time where I thought we'd never get out of the cab alive again.

After Percy convinced the drivers, apparently the Gray Sisters, to take me even though I was a mortal, and after they spat some poetry about Apollo meddling to help Percy as a favor in the near future (which Percy seemed less than thrilled about), the car finally came to a stop. I rushed to get out, making a beeline for some bushes in case the motion sickness was enough to make me throw up. Thankfully, it wasn't, and when I turned around the cab was gone, leaving me and Percy on a darkened stretch of road.

"That was the worst thing ever," I declared. Percy shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Fastest cab service in New York."

I just shook my head, closing my eyes and then immediately regretting it since my world was still spinning. When I opened my eyes again, Percy had moved past me to the edge of the forest.

"I figured we'd try to go in the back way, by the woods here," he explained. "We're pretty sure that's where the pizza guys come from."

"Would those be the monster-infested woods you've told me about?"

"Yup."

I sighed, long and heavy, letting the last of the adrenaline drain away. Then, I managed a smile at Percy.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Percy pulled out his sword as I followed him into the woods, incredibly tense and jumping at every single noise. I couldn't tell exactly where the barrier to Camp Half-Blood was, but I didn't run into any invisible barriers, and by some miracle we didn't run into any monsters. After a while of walking, finally, we came to a beach, and not far from us I could see two figures waiting.

Percy turned back to me with a grin as our feet reached the sand.

"We did it."

"Did we seriously? This is Camp?"

"Yeah. The cabins and everything else are another walk through the woods, but this is the Camp beach. Annabeth and Grover are up there."

"Hell yes," I said, grinning as I moved to walk next to Percy. "Lost pizza delivery guys have nothing on me."

Percy and I high-fived, and as soon as they noticed me, Annabeth and Grover threw their hands up in the air and waved me over.

"You made it!" cried Annabeth, pulling me in for a hug. "How did you make it?"

I shrugged as we pulled apart, then immediately turned to pull Grover in too.

"No idea. However the pizza delivery guys did it, I guess. Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too," said Percy, slinging an arm around my shoulders. We shared a smile, and then I turned away to reach into my bag. I pulled out the last surprise I'd been saving and faced the group again with a massive grin, two wine bottles in-hand.

"Don't tell your camp director," I said, smirking a little to myself. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made a perfect scale of worried (Grover) to cackling, laughing happy (Percy) with Annabeth in the middle. I passed one bottle to Percy, then opened the first bottle and poured us each a glass. "To Percy! Happy twenty-first to the greatest cousin and friend I ever could've asked for. I love you, and I can't wait to drag you on every ridiculous, non-lethal adventure I can think of, from now until forever. And you have the next year to prepare for how many times you're gonna hear Taylor Swift's 22 at your next birthday."

"Hear hear!"

"Cheers!"

"Can't wait!"

The four of us clinked our glasses, and a moment later (like it'd been planned, which it probably had) a literal pod of dolphins burst out of the water, dancing and swirling in the waves. Percy groaned next to me while Annabeth, Grover, and I laughed.

"Poseidon knows how to put on a show for a birthday," I said. Percy sighed and shook his head, then dropped into the sand. The rest of us followed right after him, leaning back in the sand and watching the ocean sparkle and stretch out before us. The four of us stayed out there long into the night, laughing and talking and drinking by the surf.

When we finally decided it was time to head to bed, the trio helped me sneak through the woods again and into the heart of Camp. I wandered around happily, taking in everything while Percy and I made a beeline for his cabin. I'd have to leave earlier than early tomorrow to keep us all out of trouble, but for just one night we could manage to get away with it.

A Half-Blood's life was full of crazy, and even though I wasn't one, I intended to be part of every single thing that I could be part of for Percy, Annabeth, and everyone else he cared about for the rest of his life.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

PJO Taglist: @valkyriepirate

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Text

Let Me Teach You

Pairing: Peter Ballard x Fem!Reader

Requested: 001 (henry creel) 34, 35, in comfort, and 37 in smut I feel like those sentences could make a really hot hurt and comfort smut 🥵 pretty please with extra cherries and sprinkles on top 🥺

Prompts: “Shh, just look at me baby.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

“Let me teach you.”

Warnings: Smut, Overstimulation, hint of Voyeurism, first time,

Summary: Super long PWP with you and Peter 😘

A/N: I usually refer to 001 as Peter instead of Henry, so that’s what I’ll be doing in this fic. Hope that’s okay! It’s mentioned in this fic that reader is an adult. I’m writing this with the mindset that she’s around 20/21. Thank you for reading! Also not proof read!

18+ Content So Minors DNI

~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes you think back to the lack of freedom and education that you were given in Hawkins Lab and it makes you shudder. It really was a nightmare. You were never allowed to shower alone, you couldn’t make any noise once you’d entered your room, you couldn’t go anywhere without the orderlies watching your every move, and nobody ever taught you anything that didn’t have to do with your powers. They would only throw you in the rainbow room filled with a bunch of different puzzles and children’s books for three hours a day, thinking that was all you ever needed.

And for a while it was. For the first many years of your life you were entertained by these things as most children were. But the older you became, the more tiresome you grew of them. You wanted to learn something else. Something more. Something new.

That’s why you befriended Peter so quickly. Being a fully grown adult and knowing nothing more than the words you’ve read in children’s books was frustrating to you, and he could see that. He would always enjoy teaching you new things, new words, and new experiences if it meant he got to see your face light up each time. It was easy to feel lonely at the lab, which is why you two found solace in each other.

After a few months, your friendship began to grow into more, and while you didn’t understand the concept of a “boyfriend” or a “relationship,” Peter was more than happy to enlighten you. But this time instead of explaining, he showed you. Sneaking into your room after lights out to talk for hours, spending more time with you than anyone else in the rainbow room, quick kisses and lingering touches when no one was paying attention. It was something new, and it made you happy.

You shake your head at the memory, eyes focusing back in on the 002 tattoo that you had on your arm. You realized that you had gotten lost in thought thinking about the lab. The two of you had escaped six months ago after you had been caught together and they tried to separate you.

After that, Peter had told you everything about his past and his powers and you were stunned to say the least, but you didn’t love him any less.

And now? The two of you were hiding out in a cabin somewhere in Maine. Peter had found a full time job working at the bakery across town, and you found a part time one at the library just down the road. You loved it. You loved being able to spend your entire day reading books and learning new things. It helped that your schedules were pretty similar.

On the days that the two of you both worked you could take the bus together, but after work you would have to walk home. You got done with work an hour after Peter did, so while he got to take the bus back home, it would unfortunately stop running before you were clocked out. You didn’t mind though, the walk was peaceful. At least, when it wasn’t winter.

Right now though you were at the front door, where your hand had been sitting on the knob for the last 5 minutes, right where your eye caught the tattoo. You sighed, shaking your head again before pushing the door open. You had expected to see Peter in the kitchen cooking dinner like he usually was when you arrived home, but he wasn’t there. Infact, he was nowhere in sight.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you heard noises coming from down the hall towards your bedroom. As you got closer you could tell that the noises were coming from Peter, he was calling out your name and he sounded in pain. You immediately worried that they had found you. The lab. And now they were in there hurting Peter. You began to panic at the thought of him laying there helplessly calling out to you. You quickly and quietly made your way to the door, pushing it open just a crack to see inside.

Peter was lying on the bed, panting and moaning. You frowned in confusion, only able to see him from the waist up. You peeked your head in just a little bit more, and you had to hold in a gasp at what you saw.

Peter had his hand wrapped around his length, and he was stroking it. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed as he moaned your name over and over. Sweat was dripping down his temples as he moaned again,

“Fuck Y/N, you make me feel so good baby.”

You bit your lip as you realized, he was making himself feel good while thinking of you. A weird sensation formed in your lower stomach as you slowly backed away from the door, making your way back down the hallway. You opened the front door quietly, making sure he wouldn’t hear, before shutting it behind you and sitting down on the porch bench. You wanted to give him privacy, you didn’t want to let him know that you had seen him.

But you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks when you thought about what you had seen.

The way your name left his lips sounded almost angelic as he desperately bucked his hips up into his hand. The memory alone was enough to make you drool, and you rubbed your thighs together to try to ease the tension in between your legs. You had read about this somewhere, in one of the library books. It was a random one that you had picked off the shelf that seemed to be popular with some of the older moms in town. There were a lot of surprising scenes written in that book, including one that was very similar to what you had just witnessed Peter doing.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the front door swung open and Peter stepped out, looking around at first with a slightly worried look in his eyes before they eventually settled on you.

“There you are, I was starting to get worried.”

Your eyes scanned over his body, the one that had just been completely naked just moments ago, and you started to imagine that it had been you stroking him, making him feel good.

A hand waved in front of your face as you were dragged back to reality.

“Sweetheart? Are you with me?” He asked, worried. You gulped and nodded in response, standing up abruptly and stumbling. He put his arms on your shoulders to steady you, and all of a sudden you were imagining them elsewhere. You imagined him squeezing your breasts as his lips made their way down the side of your neck, desperate moans leaving your lips as you clung to him.

You snapped out of it to find him staring at you.

“I-I’m sorry... what did you say?” You stutter. He raised an eyebrow at you before pressing his hand to your forehead, checking your temperature. “I asked if you’re feeling alright...cause it sure doesn’t seem like it.” He flips his hand over, gently dragging the back of it down to rest on your reddened cheek. “I don’t think you have a temperature, but your face is still very warm.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he tries to determine what’s the matter with you.

“I’m okay really, I’m just...tired. From walking...you know?”

He nods slowly not really seeming convinced, but you don’t give him enough time to question you as you quickly pushed past him, rushing inside and leaving him out on the porch. He stands out there for a moment, pondering, before eventually shrugging and stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

~~~~

It’s been a couple of hours since your interaction with Peter on the porch, and you haven’t been able to make eye contact with him since. You had spent most of your time in the bedroom continuing to daydream and fantasize about Peter while trying to keep the feeling in your lower stomach at bay.

Now you were sitting at the dinner table with him, attempting to enjoy the nice dinner that he had made for the both of you. But it was hard to even think about food let alone eat it when he was just sitting so close to you. A lot closer than he normally did.

“Is something wrong with the food baby?” You heard him ask. You shake your head, taking a bite to prove your answer. You continue to eat in silence for a few more moments which is not normal for the two of you, and you both know it.

“Y/N.” You hum in response, not looking up at him. “Y/N.” He repeats, placing his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. You tense up at that, your thighs pressing together once again. “Y-yes Peter?” you stutter out.

You can feel his eyes studying your form for a few moments. “I find it strange that you haven’t so much as looked at me since you got home.” He speaks lowly, hand tugging your plate of food away. You gulp nervously, and think that maybe you could ignore him for a minute longer, but he slides his fingers beneath your chin, pressing upwards until you look at him. You watch as his eyes scan over your features like he’s searching for something, speaking just moments later, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you hm?”

Shaking your head, you try to look down but his fingers are ever present and you crack under his gaze, "I just- god, Peter, I’m so embarrassed-” his brows started furrowing, so you find yourself rushing the rest, "-and I don't want you to think I'm weird or anything but when I came home I saw what you were doing in the bedroom and now it feels like somethings wrong with me because I think I enjoyed watching you and- and I don’t know why I feel like this but I can’t get it to go away I’m just- I’m sorry I-” you rambled, breath picking up slightly and tears coming to your eyes in embarrassment as you tried to explain yourself.

Peter lowers his way out of his chair, crouching down in front of you to hold your face in his hands. “No...no no no sweetheart don’t cry please. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” You look at him with big doe eyes, sniffling.

“It’s not?”

He shakes his head, a pitiful smile gracing his face, “Not at all. It’s actually kind of...adorable.” He tucks a hair behind your ear, his touch causing you to shudder. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Peter and a lustful glint forms in his eyes. He trails his hand from your ear down the side of your neck, to your arm, before eventually placing it on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Heat rises to your cheeks as you squirm beneath his touch, thighs rubbing together. He watches your reactions closely, a smirk forming on his lip as he watches you bite yours.

“P-Peter...” You stutter out, your breath hitching in your throat.

“I can help you sweetheart... I can help you feel better.” His eyes never leave yours as his thumb makes his way towards your inner thigh, gently stroking, “Is that what you want?”

You nod slowly, “I-It is but... I don’t know how to-”

“Let me teach you.” He cuts you off, his other hand stroking your cheek, “Let me teach you something new hm? I know you like it when I teach you things.”

A quiet, desperate whimper leaves your lips at his words and your legs begin to tremble underneath his touch. You take a deep breathe before answering with a nod,

“Yes please.”

Peter smiles, standing up and offering his hand to you. You instantly take it, following him to the bedroom. He closes the door behind the two of you and spins around to find you standing in the middle of the room, eyes to the floor and twiddling your thumbs nervously. Peter chuckles at the sight of you, and you look up at him innocently.

“Why don’t you lie back on the bed for me sweetheart?” Peter asks sweetly. You nod, doing as he says. Once you’re situated he climbs on top of you, his lips immediately findings yours. This you were used to. You could spend all day kissing Peter with your hands tangled in his hair and you’d have absolutely no complaints. But then he started moving out of comfortable territory. His lips made their way from yours, down your jawline and eventually to your neck, where he began to gently suck and nibble at your skin.

You were tense at first, unsure of what to do, where to put your hands, how you should react. You were so...nervous. Peter glanced up at you, taking this in. He gently grabbed your wrists, maneuvering them so they were wrapped around him and resting on his back. His head dipped down against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss there before murmuring, “Don’t think so much, just let your body take control.”

His lips find their way to your neck once again, and you began to relax, tilting your head back to give him more access. Your hands roamed his back as breathless pants and whines left your lips while he marked you. You could tell that he relished in the pretty little noises that you were making, as gentle moans made their way from his mouth to the flushed skin of your neck. It wasn’t long before red and purple hickeys decorated your skin and Peter pulled back, admiring his work.

“What a pretty sight you are.”

You blushed heavily once again at his words before you pulled him back down to you, your lips meeting his once again. His hands began to roam your body, making their way from your face, down your chest, eventually resting on your hips.

“Is it okay if I start to remove your clothes darling?” He asks you gently. You bite your lip nervously, unsure if you were ready for that. “I don’t want to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.” He adds, giving you a reassuring smile as he places a comforting kiss to your temple. You ponder for another moment before a burst of courage surges through you and you nod.

He tuts his tongue in response, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “How about we use our words hm?” He states, a stern tone added to his voice. You take a breath before responding with a very meek, “Yes Peter.”

He smiles, satisfied, before leaning in to kiss you again, murmuring a small “Good girl” against your lips. He slowly guided the hem of your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in your jeans and your t-shirt bra. His mouth practically watered at the sight of your breasts.

You whimper pathetically in response to his gaze, and he gently reaches around you to unclasp the hooks of your bra, pulling it from your body. He stares down at your breasts in awe, reaching up to fondle them in his hands as you bite back a moan.

“God you’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, leaning down and taking your right nipple into his mouth, gently sucking as his tongue circles around it. He looks up at you while he fondles your other breast, watching you fall apart underneath him. You were writhing, your hands running through his hair as content little hums left your lips. He switches positions, giving your other breast some attention before he starts to make his way further down, from the valley between your breasts and down your stomach, eventually reaching the hem of your pants.

He delicately unbuttons them and wraps his fingers around the hem. He pauses for a moment to look up at you with smirk before he drags them down your thighs, taking your panties with them. A gasp of surprise leaves your lips, realizing you’re now completely bare in front of Peter. His eyes somehow manage to grow even more lustful as he stares at your drooling cunt.

“Is this all for me?” He asks leaning forward, his breath hot against your core as he swipes a finger up your slit. Your hips buck up and a strangled moan escapes your throat when he does so. “You poor thing, you’ve been this worked up for hours haven’t you?” His thumb gently circles your clit and you can only mewl in response, hips bucking again.

“I’m gonna make it all better baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

That’s the last thing he says to you before he licks a long strip from your weeping hole all the way up to your clit, beginning to suckle on the sensitive little nub. You gasp sharply, thighs attempting to close around his head but pushes them back apart, holding them still.

You desperately try to cling onto something, anything; eventually settling for Peters hair. You tug on it, holding on for dear life as he eats you out. His bright blue eyes watch your reactions intently from between your legs as you completely fall apart. He’s locked onto the way that your eyes roll back into your head, moaning and panting his name repeatedly from those cute lips.

He begins to prod one finger at your hole, gently circling the tip around your soaked entrance. Your eyes widen in realization and you tense up immediately. Peter pauses, pulling his finger away slightly, gauging your reaction.

“I’m just going to stretch you out a bit okay sweetheart? Want to get you nice and warmed up to take my cock.” You blush at the way he worded it, and nod nervously. He slowly pressed his finger against your hole once again, “It’s going to be uncomfortable at first but I promise I’ll be gentle okay?” You nod once again and his eyebrows furrow, his grip on your one thigh tightening. “Words baby. Use your words.”

“Y-Yes Peter.”

He wastes no time before slowly pressing his finger inside of your tight hole. You squirm in discomfort at first while he pulls his finger out, only to slowly thrust back in.

“God you’re so fucking tight Y/N...you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You bite your lip to prevent the whine attempting to leave them. You feel him dip his head down once more as he begins to suck and swirl his tongue around your clit again, distracting you from the discomfort. After a few more moments of thrusting you began to enjoy the feeling of being stretched out around his finger. “M-more please Peter...I want more.” You beg, almost pathetically.

“Such a polite little thing you are. Of course my love, you’re taking me so well already.” He prods another finger at your hole, sliding it in very easily as he goes back to attacking your clit with his mouth. This time the stretch burns, but in a good way, and your hips buck up to meet his hand once again. You begin to feel an intense sensation building in your lower stomach as your moans start to grow louder and louder.

“O-oh god Peter, it feels so good I-I...”

He hums in response against your clit as he thrusts a third finger inside of you. Your hands grip his hair harshly, sweat drips down your face, and your muscles begin to tighten as the pressure in your core builds to a climax. The hand that had been holding your thighs apart slid up to your lower stomach and pressed down lightly.

And just like that you were too far gone.

Choked out moans and pants leave your pretty little lips as you come hard around his fingers, your drooling cunt pulsing around them.

“Shh, shh," he hushes you. “There you go baby, all over my fingers. Such a messy little thing you are...” He continues finger fucking you through your orgasm, his thumb circling your clit. Eventually though it’s too much, you’re too sensitive.

You squirm away from him, whining, and he shushes you as he gently removes his fingers from your poor sensitive little cunt. “Alright baby, alright. It’s okay.” He says to you, before licking your cum off of his fingers, relishing in the taste of you. He slowly climbs back up your body, hovering over the top of you as he slams his lips against yours. You begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, and you can feel how hard he is through his pants as he grinds down against your leg, causing you to gasp. He smirks down at you, gauging your reaction.

“You see what you do to me baby? You feel how fucking hard you make me?” You nod innocently, the thought of him being inside of you almost making you drool. He sits up, straddling you as he removes his shirt and begins to undo his buckle, before sliding his pants and then his boxers down his legs, until he too is completely naked.

You stare in awe as his cock bobs out of his boxers. It was throbbing red and the tip was glistening with precum, he was a decent size and it was so....so thick. You knew that the stretch would most certainly burn more that it did with his fingers. This time as you were staring at it, you actually began to drool and he chuckles at you. You watch him lean over to the bedside table, pulling out a little square packet, tearing it open and rolling the rubber content from inside over his cock. You didn’t know what it was, you didn’t care. You would ask about it later because the only thing you cared about right now was him.

He slowly crawls back on top of you, resting his forehead against yours. He makes sure you’re still fully into this by asking you, “Are you sure you want this sweetheart?” You nod eagerly, pulling him into a kiss as you feel him lining up his cock with your already ruined cunt.

He pulls his lips from yours and gauges your reactions as he slowly begins to push his cock inside of you, your walls attempting to adjust to him. You hiss in pain, tears pricking your eyes as you grip Peter tightly, nails digging into his back.

“P-Peter i-it hurts...”

He moans at how tight you are around him, but is more focused on your comfort than his own pleasure. “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

He pushes his cock the rest of the way inside of you, just barely bottoming out as his balls rest against your ass cheeks. You groan and whimper in pain as you try to adjust to his size. Your cunt flutters and pulses around him, still sensitive and he groans. “God sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight around me. Taking me so well. You tell me when you want me to move okay baby?”

You gasp out in pain as he shifts just slightly inside of you and you nod, “Y-yes Peter.”

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in an attempt to distract you from the pain. His lips feel soft and warm against yours, and they taste like the vanilla chapstick that he loves so much. His hands reach up to cup your face lovingly as you make out, and you smile into the kiss.

After a few more moments of kissing, you nod your head to him, signaling for him to start moving. And he does, very slowly. It definitely still hurts, enough to make the tears that were pricking at your eyes fall down your cheeks. A small pained cry leaves your lips as he thrusts again and again.

“Shh, just look at me baby,” He whispers, continuing to stroke your cheek, “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so fucking well. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but your perfect, you’re so fucking perfect. It’s like you were made for me. I love you so fucking much.” He rambles, pecking your face in between every sentence until you begin to giggle.

“I love you too Peter- ah!”

You were cut off by a moan as he thrusted deep inside of you once again, the pain beginning to dissipate, slowly being replaced with pleasure. A smirk forms on his face as he thrusts into the exact same spot, causing you to mewl in response.

“There we go darling....feels nice doesn’t it?” He asks you, “I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you like this and ruin your pretty little cunt. I’d touch myself every day when I got home just imagining I was fucking you.”

Your eyes roll back again at his words and you moan, “O-oh god Peter...I feel so full.” He grunts into your ear as he reaches down, toying with your clit again, using his thumb to circle it as his thrusts begin to pick up the pace. Your hips desperately buck up to meet his and you can feel the pressure beginning to build again.

“God you’re so fucking tight baby, I’m so close, so fucking close.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours. He starts rubbing your clit even faster and his thrusts start to become more sloppy. Your pussy starts to pulse around him again as you grow closer and closer to the edge.

“Peter I’m gonna- oh fuck I-”

“Cum for me baby, just relax and let go for me. Let yourself feel good.”

And you do. With one final thrust of his hips inside you your vision goes white and you’re taken over by pure bliss. Your head falls back and your back arches as you cum hard all over your boyfriends cock. Peter thrusts two to three more times before he releases as well, panting and moaning as his cock twitches inside of your poor abused little pussy.

He wishes he could fill you up with his cum and watch it leak out of you while your cunt is still sensitive and pulsing, but he knows you’re not ready for that yet. Instead he slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash. His eyes drift over your form proudly as you lay there exhausted and out of breath.

He leans down to admire the aftermath of your cunt, and moans as he watches it continue to twitch and pulse around nothing as your hole leaks onto the bedsheets. He smirks and decides to do something a little bit evil, and cleans you up with his tongue. He’s quick to hold your legs down as he licks all of your juices up. You immediately cry out, feeling extremely sensitive and try to buck your hips away from him, to no avail.

His tongue finds its way inside your hole, fucking in and out of you just as his cock was only two minutes prior. The feeling is so intense for you and you try to shove him off with your powers, but to no avail. He was already stronger than you, and you were just a weak little thing right now. He senses your attempt however, and looks up at you pouting.

“I was just trying to clean you up darling, but it seems I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson.” He smirks at you, before pinning your hands to the mattress with a flick of his head. He re-pins your thighs down with his hands and continues his attack on your poor little hole with his tongue, occasionally circling it around your sensitive and tortured clit just to make you squirm and whine.

“P-please Peter it’s so sensitive I-I....”

“Shhhh, just one more for me baby. You can do that can’t you? You can be a good girl and give me one more.” You nod, as best as you can, wanting to please Peter as he fucks you with his tongue. Your orgasm builds a lot quicker this time and he knows it.

Peter closes his eyes as he continues to eat you out, focusing all of his energy into your poor little pussy, wanting you to cum as hard as you possible could. Your eyes widened as the pleasure grew immensely and your legs began to tremble. By this point you were yelling Peter’s name in utter ecstasy, as he forced another orgasm out of you. The feeling was so intense that you cried your way through the orgasm, your whole body trembling.

You fade in and out of consciousness for a few minutes, your body trying to play catch up with everything that had just happened. When you finally came to, the sheets had been changed, you were completely dressed in your pajamas and your hair was wet. You felt... clean.

How long were you out for?

Peter steps into the room a moment later, a towel wrapped around his waist. He hadn’t noticed you had awoken when he dropped the towel, pulling on a clean pair of boxers before crawling into bed with you. Just as he does, you roll over to face him. He looks at you in total surprise.

“I thought you had fallen asleep for the night.”

“Yeah well I thought I’d fallen asleep for 2 minutes.” He chuckles at that, pulling you into his chest. “No baby, you’ve been out for the last hour. I cleaned you up and everything...guess I really did a number on you hm?” He looks down at you, stroking your cheek as it turned a bright pink.

You’re silent for a few seconds before you look up at him. “Peter?” You ask, and he responds with a hum of adoration. “Thank you,” you whisper, tracing imaginary shapes onto the bare skin of his chest, “For everything. I love you.”

He smiles at that, pulling you in to kiss your forehead, “You know I’d do anything for you sweet girl, I love you too.”

#fiction #henry creel #imagines #peter ballard #stranger things #001 stranger things #writers #smut #my prompts #dialogue prompts #requested #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard smut

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atlasxspeaks · 11 months

Text

“Do you hate me or something!” Spider has never been for frustrated in his life than right now, staring up the worst foster sibling he had ever know. Ao’nung wasn’t just a jerk who barged into his room at random hours or who hogged the bathroom for so long in the morning only to joke that they could share the shower when Spider bangs on the door. He’s a jerk who can’t stand to see Spider happy.

“You decked Lo’ak for no goddamn reason!” Spider is too angry to realize that shoving Ao’nung, whose a fuller foot taller than him, will do nothing. The boy takes the hit, though, before grabbing him by his wrists.

“He’s my only fucking friend and now he barley want to hang out because of you. Why do you always do this!” In a ten months Spider had been in Awa’ulta, he’d made a few close friends, all of which ran away or distance themselves once Ao’nung got a glimpse of them. Roxto and Tsireya were the only people he can even hang out with without Ao’nung poking fun at them and causing a fight.

The Sully kids were new and needed friends just like him, and they were kinda weird just like him. He likes Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam. Even Tuk was fun to be around. And they didn’t care about his oxygen tank or the fact that he never wears short sleeves regardless of how hot it gets. And now Ao’nung had gone and fucked it by picking on Lo’ak for his vitiligo.

“Say something! Do you hate me?”

“Not at all. I’m actually quite in love with you, really.”

Of all the fucking things he could have said, that was not one of them. Spider blinks for a second, stunned into silence. That is before stomping down hard on the other boy’s foot.

“ARGH!” Ao’nung is now on the ground, holding his foot and Spider can’t bring himself to be sympathetic.

“What the fuck Spider!!”

“If you fucking love me, leave my friends alone and act like a normal person. I’m not your property! I can have friend and still be whatever it is you want me to be to you.”

Spider isn’t 100% certain Ao’nung actually likes him romantically, but there have been moments between them that make him question it. Like the night he’d had woken Spider as an Eywa-less hour to see a meteor shower, something Spider had wanted to see after years old living in smog-filled cities. They’d stayed on the roof for hours after just talking, and there was a moment when their faces were so close that he noticed the green flakes in Ao’nung’s blue eyes. Regardless, if Ao’nung wanted him, he’d have to learn to get over himself.

“I think you broke my foot man,” Ao’nung groans.

“Be glad I’m not wearing my boots. Now, you’re gonna apologize to Lo’ak, and you’re going to mean it,” Spider kneels down on the ground next to Ao’nung and prods at his foot. Living with Ronal and Tsireya had increased his medical knowledge tenfold so he could already tell while bruised, Ao’nung’s foot was definitely not broken. Spider wasn’t that strong.

“Urgh do I have to?” Spider just pinches his calf in reply and the boy caves. “Argh ok ok!” Ao’nung bats his hand away and then grabs it, interlacing their fingers.

“For you, I’ll apologize and mean it. Lo’ak’s a pretty good guy, I just don’t like how close you both are.”

Spider rolls his eyes skyward and prays to Eywa for strength.

“If you took you head out your ass you’d see that I’m not the person you should be worried about with Lo’ak,” Spider doesn't hold back his smirk at Ao’nung’s startled look.

“Who!?”

“Apologize and I’ll tell you,” Spider teases pulling away from the boy to help him up. Ao’nung, even an opportunist, puts his arm around Spider’s shoulders to lean on while hopping, completely milking his injury. Spider rolls his eyes and lets him have it.

——

Inspired by @nashichiyo All x Miles "Spider" Socorro (Prompt) on AO3.

#spider socorro #ao’nung #avatar way of water

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chosos-mascara · 2 years

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｡˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 31 ☽˚۰˚｡

Masquerade- Tengen Uzui

cw: masked sex, alcohol (tagging dubcon as they're drinking), teasing, pet names, fingering, blowjob, sex, mirror sex, office sex, cunnilingus

After finding yourself alone at a party, you're given company by a masked figure. A year later, you come across the same maroon eyes you'd remembered from that night - is it really him?

minors+ageless dni.

prompt from @tomiokas-lunchbox really aided in the second half of this fic!!! thank you <;3

8.8k words

masterlist

"Come on, please!" Mitsuri begged, two hands pressed firmly together as she leaned forward to bow. "It'll be fun!"

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at the lack of dignity she'd displayed when it had come to moments like this. "I don't do parties, 'Suri. You know that." Crossing one arm over the other, you sat back in your seat. The pair of you situated at your usual spot, a corner booth in the rustic cafe from your home. Mitsuri had once lived in that cramped 2 bed apartment too, but following her relationship with Obanai, she'd left. It was a great development in their relationship, and you'd been more than happy for her, though it had caused yourself to grow a little more lonely. It was her plan to find you a partner - someone exciting. You'd understood this was just due to her own guilt for moving out, even if she'd denied it.

"I promise, you'll have the best time!" Her voice grated at your ears with the affairs she was whining over. "Obanai will be going-" She continued at the desperate persuading, but you hadn't the energy to listen any longer.

"Obanai being there makes me wanna go even less, 'Suri." You took the mug from the stained wood before you, placing your mouth at the rim to sip at the hot chocolate. It was a good temperature, and for a moment, you'd relaxed, the taste mixed with the heat alleviating your brain. You hadn't seen her in a week, and the only thing she'd had to speak of was a stupid costume party her work friends were throwing for Halloween. You'd much preferred your usual plans - the two of you watching movies and indulging in various seasonal snacks. Though anything rated over a 12 would be too scary for Mitsuri, so you'd stick to things like Coraline, or Frankenweenie instead. It would be with first year the pair of you wouldn't have followed this tradition, so she'd wanted to include you within her new plans.

"I'll be fine at home; I'll watch the movies you were always too scared to, maybe order in. It'll be nice." You attempted to reassure her, you were an adult, and hadn't needed her attempts at babysitting you for the night.

"But, I want you to come!" She persisted, pouting. "Obanai won't drink with me, you know what he's like." She pleaded, voice ringing in your ears as she placed her hands together again, as if praying to an all-mighty presence above.

"If you don't like partying with Obanai, don't invite him." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose at her persistent cries. You'd loved her, but she was spoiled. Growing up beside her had taught you that. Obanai had fed into it too, treating her as if royalty - everyone else had been dirt on his shoe. You'd wondered why he'd worshiped her so diligently, however you'd appreciated that he'd treated her well.

You wondered how you'd find an outfit with only three days to go - most stores' Halloween stock would be pretty dried out by now. It would have to consist of things you'd already had, or were easy to order online.

"Just come for an hour, and if you don't like it, Obanai will drop you home." Her requests were starting to bore you, and finally, you'd caved.

"For fucks sake, Mitsuri." You sighed in annoyance. "I'll come, but if I don't like it, your boyfriend will be bringing me home." You complained, setting the conditions. She squealed, clapping excitedly as she'd began ranting over costume plans, your eyes closing and head tilting back as the barrage of words continued.

Over the following days, Mitsuri had spoken with you, an abundance of photos and ideas flooding your inbox until you'd finally agreed on going as a devil, while she'd dress as an angel. You'd heard her tell Obanai while on the other end of the phone, hearing his annoyance when she'd told him he needn't buy anything, he could just wear Kaburamaru around his shoulders.

A quick trip to the mall had you leaving with a red dress and nail polish, managing to find some clip-in horns with next-day delivery. Mitsuri had found herself a white dress and fuzzy halo, and when the pair of you had tried on the outfits to show Obanai you'd had to admit you'd looked good. Coming out of her bedroom you'd watched as something flickered over her boyfriend's eyes, understanding that with your departure, Mitsuri's dress would be a part of the evening they'd share.

Halloween had come quickly, even with work dragging. Once you'd finished your shifts, there had been excitement over the party you'd halfheartedly agreed to, though anxiety had somewhat overpowered this. Mitsuri had been texting you throughout the day, mostly regarding any potential one night stands she'd heard would be attending.

Once arriving at Mitsuri's, the pair of you spoke while slipping into the dresses, your friend updating you on today's events - working, eating and hanging out with Obanai. No matter how mundane a detail had appeared, she'd made it sound fun, always delighted to tell you everything on her mind. It had always been this way, since you were kids. You were one another's therapist, a person of no judgement, complete confidentiality as you indulged in every thought you had.

Through the chatter, Mitsuri helped you style your hair, sitting cross legged before the mirror of her wardrobe. Obanai had of course been banished to the lounge to allow you space, getting ready with the help of singing, and snacks. Having her to yourself was appreciated, new memories formed between the pair of you. It was how it used to be.

Pink hair flowed down her body in waves as she wore it down, finally placing the headband on top to complete the look. With a smile, Mitsuri took your wrist, happily bouncing to showcase the complete costumes to her boyfriend. He'd been laid back on the couch, beer in hand as he flicked through channels on the TV. You didn't often see him without his mask, though appreciating when he had been open enough to allow the privilege of seeing his scarred skin. You'd never addressed it, even if you had wondered how they'd occurred, nor lingered over his mouth for too long. He'd valued the thought.

"Ready!" Mitsuri jumped, taking her partner's hand in hers. He sighed, grasping the face covering and his car keys, following the two of you out. You got into the back of his car, while the couple had situated in the front, though Mitsuri had been constantly turned to face you anyway, explaining the last party she'd attended that had been hosted by Rengoku. A story you'd heard multiple times; the party that herself and Obanai had bonded, rather than just sharing glances at work. Although there was desire to meet someone too, you pushed it down to avoid disappointment.

Stepping into his home, you were taken aback. The expectations were set high, though you hadn't had full faith in Mitsuri's, usually over-exaggerated, descriptions of events. There had to be at least twenty people in the hall alone, all dressed as various characters; some horror, though the majority geared toward sex appeal. Mitsuri, linking arms with both yourself and her partner, navigated through the sea of people, making her way toward the kitchen. There had been a game of beer pong at the island set at the heart of the room, the outer-rim being taken over by card games.

A male sporting a white button up and red tie, a few fake blood stains littering the garment, stood proudly at one end of the island, smile painted widely across his cheeks. He'd had yellow hair, fading into red, and you'd been unsure if this was part of the costume, or his usual style.

Mitsuri released the pair of you to address him, running to embrace the stranger in a hug. He'd laughed at her greeting, placing an arm loosely around her to reciprocate her touchy-ness. You glanced to Obanai, wondering if he'd felt jealousy at moments like this, though understanding this was just how Mitsuri was. Always extravagant, an outgoing woman with a warming personality. Her genuine fondness of others was admirable.

Mitsuri's friend had been attractive, and from the way his eyes lingered over your body, you'd felt he was a little interested, too. It had been a while since you'd been within the presence of someone you'd actually felt charmed by; it was a bizarre sentiment. Though, with the anxiety washing over you, you'd needed space to recollect your thoughts, suddenly growing nervous over your appearance, or the impression you'd given off.

"Mitsuri, Obanai," He smiled at them, eyes stopping as they'd reached your uncomfortable stance. You gave a small beam in return, though anxiety pooling as you'd reached his gaze. "Is this y/n?" He questioned, eventually flickering back to your friend.

"Yes!" Mitsuri faced you, and you'd only been able to hope she wouldn't make you the center of attention during what you'd hoped to be a brief interaction.

"This is Rengoku, the host!" She exclaimed, a giggle from her lips. He stuck out a hand, and you placed yours within his grip, shaking it.

"Good to meet you!" His voice was loud despite the noise, booming through your ears over incoherent music and various other conversations.

"You too!" You'd replied, hoping the exchange would end soon.

"Let's grab drinks." Mitsuri shouted above the noise, and you'd accepted, following her to the fridge. She had been right when boasting his financial situation on the way over - the entire unit filled with beers, mixers, and other beverages you'd vaguely recognized to be alcoholic, clearly spending an absurd amount of money simply to host his friends.

"Is there spirits? I wanna do a shot?" You questioned, her green eyes glistening at your request. She cheered, excitedly skipping to the counter-top and picking a clear bottle of liquid, pouring them into two small plastic cups that had been stacked beside. The pair of you measured your drinks, before tapping the cups together and swallowing back the burning liquid. Your throat tightened at the liquor, immediately grabbing a can of soda to chase it down with. The pair of you laughed, Mitsuri pouring another, repeating the process, and then once more.

With the warmth of the alcohol coursing through your chest, you'd felt a little more at ease, comfortable enough to join them with a few other friends. There had been a petite woman named Shinobu, in a cute mini-dress embroidered with butterflies around the skirt, a hair pin to match. Beside her on the couch had been Giyu, wearing camo trousers and a black tee, a small net at his feet. The pair had been a couples costume; a butterfly and bug keeper. To their left, a white haired male named Sanemi, dressed in ripped clothing, his idea had been to be a zombie outbreak survivor. He'd bragged on about how he'd be able to live through an apocalypse, and how he'd definitely be immune to any disease epidemic. You nodded along, even if judging his self assuredness deep within your mind.

"I think we should leave, now." He leaned over his girlfriend, who was now murmering under her breath. She'd looked to be on the verge of passing out, outburst of energy now fizzling out. You nodded, grabbing the red clutch you'd arrived with, pushing your weight onto your palm to push yourself up.

Drinking a little more, you had felt a little past tipsy before deciding on taking a break. Mitsuri had been more intoxicated than you had, though, laying on her boyfriend's shoulder and quietly fussing over him, while you'd made conversation with their work friends.

"Do you live nearby?" Giyu questioned, attempting to make small talk. You shook your head, glancing up to his eyes.

"Not really - Obanai brought me here." You explained, before a hand was placed on your shoulder.

"Feel free to stay here, we have room." You'd recognised the voice to belong to Rengoki, as he paced over to sit beside Sanemi, beer in hand. Thanking him, you reverted your attention to the squealing girl beside you, stroking at Obanai's mask as she'd gushed over his beauty. He'd been evidently more wary of those around him, but didn't stop her from letting her heart out.

"Don't go!" Shinobu pouted, crossing one arm over the other. "You should stay, crash in the lounge with us!" You reconsidered your earlier decision; you had been enjoying yourself. Socializing was something you had struggled with previously, why waste an evening you could be spending having fun? Agreeing, Obanai took Mitsuri home without you, but reminding you to call if there was an issue. You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder as if to thank him for his gesture, waving them good-bye as he supported Mitsuri at his hip, disappearing into the crowd.

After finishing and drying your hands, you opened the door to exit, plodding down the carpeted stairs. There had been a figure waiting at the bottom, leaning against the wall. You couldn't tell if your height above him had botched your perception of his height, but as you lowered, you'd realised your eyes had not decieved you.

Shinobu had encouraged you to dance with her, the males from the group remaining seated to talk. The pair of you gave your all, giggling while twirling, her skirt flowing out beautifully as she'd moved. You'd help one hand with her, singing along to classics until your throat had been dry, stomach aching from laughter you'd shared. It was difficult to fathom how much time had passed, but with all you'd drank, a bathroom break was needed.

"I need to pee!" You'd shouted in her ear, a giggle leaving her lips at your statement, hand falling to her mouth as if an attempt to contain further laughter.

"Upstairs, the door on the end of the stairs." She'd yelled, moving away from your ear to check the males had still been seated and talking. Giving you a nod of reassurance, she turned to join them, while you'd ventured to use the bathroom.

The male had to be well over 6 foot tall, dressed within a sleeveless black shirt and cargo trousers, fingerless gloves reaching elbow level, and over his face was a black fabric mask, wrapping around the bridge of his nose, a hood covering his hair. The only part of his face on show had been two maroon colored eyes, decorated in a small amount of eyeliner. He'd caught your gaze, the alcohol in you giving you the confidence to approach him.

"What're you dressed as?" You questioned, pressing your shoulder against the wall beside him, head tilting back to look up at him. He towered over you, muscular build adding to the space he'd already occupied.

"A Shinobi." He'd replied nonchalantly, yourself unaware if he'd actually been interested in what you'd had to say, or rather, playfully ask. The vodka in your system wouldn't take a hint, interrogating him further.

"What's that?" You mirrored his body language, bending your arm to cup the other. His eyes flickered over you, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

"You've heard of ninjas, no?" His voice was deep, masculinity radiating from him, even if only a handful of words had been spoken. "My family are Shinobu, so it was an easy costume choice."

He hummed in thought, pushing himself from the wall to stand straight. You followed his movements, maintaining visual contact. "A devil?" He'd obviously been sure, but the fact you'd asked such an obvious question had him doubting himself. Your giggles had signified his answer had been correct, his originally colder demeanor loosening up a little as you'd been warm to him. Your smile had caused his own to curve upwards under the fabric, unbeknownst to you.

Continuing to peer up at him with doe-like eyes, your gaze lingered back over the maroon coloured orbs, tracing down the curve of the face covering, imagining what had lay beneath.

"Guess what I am." You teased, mainly to carry the conversation further. He'd piqued your interest, and if you'd played your cards right, maybe he'd entertain the thoughts you'd had in the back of your mind.

"Beautiful?" You poked at the mildly flirtatious move he'd taken, mostly to calm your own nerves, though you'd also wanted to hear him call you pretty again. Eyes dropping to his hands, your sight trailing over the painted finger nails he'd had. His hands, much like the rest of him, were large; you'd pictured your face being entirely encapsulated by his palm.

"Do you work with Rengoku?" You pondered, straightening out a crease in your dress, awaiting his response.

"Not anymore." He didn't explain further, instead taking his turn to question you. "How do you know him?" He challenged, eyes unfaltering from your figure, your cheeks heating at the attention you'd received.

"He works with a friend." You exhaled, watching as others passed through the hall on their way to another part of the home. "She was here, but she left." You commented.

"And left a woman as beautiful as you all alone?" You rolled your eyes at his attempt for a compliment, trying to hide the fact that word had your stomach flipping.

"You're stunning." He repeated the commendation of your appearance, a smile breaking out over your face. "Being here alone is a waste." The man took a step toward you, your heart racing at the sudden confrontation.

"Why would it be a waste?" You almost stuttered as he placed a warm hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly across the smooth skin. Previous assumptions had been correct - his hand was as long as your head, fingers cupping around to reach behind your ear. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the heat transfer from his roughed hand, the fabric of his mask brushing over your ear as he hovered his lips only centimeters away from the side of your face.

"No one will get to see such a pretty face moaning for them," You spine tingled when his fingers intertwined with your hair, tilting your head to the side to allow his face room to drift over your neck. "Isn't that sad?" The stranger questioned, and you inhaled sharply, a hum hitching in your throat from the words flowing through your head.

His hand dropped from your face to hold your wrist, standing upright. The loss of his presence so close to you caused you to ease up a bit, not having long to gather your thoughts as he was pulling you up the staircase. The pair of you had walked into what looked to be a guest room, a lock on the door allowing your privacy.

"Why don't you take the opportunity, then?" You closed your eyes, mumbling your words out quietly. He laughed at your sudden timidness, after being so forward with him.

"Would you like that, doll?"

The room was pretty, a large double bed coated in crisp white sheets, green wallpaper with luxurious patterns, a wooden wardrobe and bedside table fitting into the decoration. Rengoku had clearly taken pride within his home, unafraid to spend money. You were unsure of his position, but it had to be considerably better paid that Mitsuri's.

The stranger pulled you from your thoughts and appreciation for the interior design, yourself being pushed up against the door that had just been locked behind you. The dress you'd lovingly picked out a few days prior was pulled upward, a hand slipping to cup your pussy through the thong you'd worn, chosen with the small hopes of getting laid tonight. The sudden pressure caused your legs to wobble, inhaling deeply as his finger slip over your clothed folds. You grabbed onto his bicep to steady yourself, clutching on as he'd rubbed circles over you. Relaxing yourself, you allowed better access. It had been a while since you'd felt another person's touch; you'd forgotten how intoxicating it was. The male was clearly experienced, knowing exactly where to kneed in order for your eyes to roll back.

Of course, you'd slept with people before, most of which aiding you to achieve orgasm, though not putting much effort in. He'd been slowly warming you up, touching you before you'd even made a move on him. It was clear how he'd clearly prioritized your pleasure, and that made your heart flutter.

"Already s' wet for me." You could tell he was impressed by his own talents, the tone of his voice giving away the smirk he'd had beneath the mask. You groaned, rolling your hips to grind over him, feeling the slick of your arousal rub against the fabric of your underwear.

"You're all wet for a man you've just met, huh?" He teased, but you were past the point of caring. "Has a man ever touched you like this?" His voice was low, dripping with lust as you'd shaken your head from side to side, feeding into his already inflated ego.

Your other hand reached out, trailing it slowly over his stomach, attempting not to ball a fist at each constraint over our clit, finally grazing fingers over his cock. Just the feeling of the clothed hardness through his trousers had been enough to make your stomach churn, it was thick, and longer than you'd expected. It would be a struggle to fit it inside you, however you were more than willing to try. But, you were sure he'd take care of you - he'd already taken his time to build up your arousal, not even touching your bare cunt yet. You squeezed it, bowing your head with a moan as he slipped under the fabric, rubbing rhythmically over your sensitive bud.

"Don't worry about me, doll." He took your wrist, placing it back on his torso. You'd instinctively grabbed ahold of the fabric of his t-shirt, earning a chuckle from him. "I'm gon' make you feel good." He murmured, moving down to his knees.

He dipped a finger into you, earning a gasp from your parted lips, massaging your walls as he brought his other hand to massage your clit. Just one finger had filled you up so tightly, each curl hitting your core. You were a mess, back arching against the wood of the door, hands desperately gripping at his shoulders to hold yourself up. Your legs, parted only wide enough to allow his hand between them, almost bucking, shaking with pleasure as he focused solely on you. He placed kisses on your stomach, working what had to be magic on your soaked pussy. If you weren't chasing your high, you'd have asked him to remove the face covering, to feel his lips against your skin. But, in this instance, you hadn't cared enough.

"C-close." You hummed, voice wavering.

"Cum on my fingers, baby." His reassuring instruction was all you'd needed, a curse word leaving your lips before a series of moans, your body shaking as your climax had came over you. You didn't want to think of the expression you'd been pulling, eyes rolling back as you'd needily humped his hand, riding out your high.

Your eyes had glossed over as you breathlessly lent against the door, legs ready to give in. You felt his hands leave you, a finger being pressed against your mouth.

"Open f'r me." He'd only whispered, but you obeyed his command, brain foggy. He pushed his finger into your mouth, a salty taste against your tongue as you'd realized this had been the finger fucking you only moments before.

"Do you taste good, baby?" He asked, earning only a nod in response. The now familiar chuckle left his lips as he stood, tracing his hand over the belt he'd worn, threatening to unbuckle it.

"Wan' taste y-you." You'd managed to sputter out, eyes locked onto his hands. He traced the buckle, finally giving you what you'd wanted by undoing the metal, and freeing his cock from the tight trousers he'd been dressed in.

"So big." You'd whispered, eyes glued to the erection before you. It was pale, soft skin with veins running down the sides, much longer than the hand he'd used to grip it. You got on your knees, perching at his feet as you wrapped your own hand around it, placing your tongue to the head.

"Good girl." He'd hummed, moving the fist that had been clutching the base to tangle in your hair, rubbing his thumb in circles as you took him into your mouth. Just the head had filled most of your mouth; you were unsure on how you'd manage to go further than this. You'd wanted to impress him, though, giving your all.

Drool started to drip down your chin, coating your face as you'd continued to push him into your throat. Your eyes watered, but as time passed and it got easier to take all of him. You'd began enjoying yourself a little more, letting out moans and hums as you'd maneuvered on him. He'd appeared to appreciate this, squeezing his fist a little tighter on your hair when your hums vibrated over his cock, the head slipping down your tight throat. Tears streamed down your face, sniffling back as your nose ran, your makeup mixing with the fluid on your cheeks. He'd found you so pretty stuffed full of him, giving him everything you'd had.

At first, you'd licked up and down, base to tip, hovering your lips over the head you'd just been sucking at, exhaling over the wet saliva you'd left over him.

"Fuck, such a good girl." He'd repeated his pet name from before, deciding that was what you'd be called. With no names exchanged, you'd both had your own ideas - though you weren't confident enough to speak what you'd been thinking. You took him to the back of your throat, bobbing backward and hollowing out your cheeks. Pulling his trousers to sit at his knees, you used your hand to cup at his balls, lightly squeezing before pushing yourself further, his cock sliding down your throat. Resisting the urge to gag, you allowed your eyes to water, going back and forth on him, caressing his inner thigh with your fingertips. He groaned, watching your face as you worked on his cock.

When his ragged breathing calmed, you pulled your head back, simply looking up to see the imposing man over you. You'd need a few moments before being able to stand again, and only wondered how much of a mess you'd looked. Hearing his ragged moans and words of appraisal had gotten you feeling hot again, knowing by now there'd probably be a damp spot seeping through your dress, too. There had been a door to an en suite that you'd managed to make your way toward, turning on the faucet to warm before wetting a towel, wiping over the mess on your face.

You'd snaked your hand up, gripping at his dick, pumping as you went shallower with your mouth. The two movements in sync caused him to buck his hips - he hadn't usually lost his poise, but with you laboring so hard over him, it was hard not to.

"Wan' take my cum, pretty girl?" You hadn't noticed how breathless he was until those words, your eyes flickering up to look at his half-lidded ones. You nodded against him, continuing with the pace you'd had, quickly feeling the warm liquid erupt from him, moaning as he couldn't help but to thrust, bending forward slightly as he poured into your mouth, trying to focus on his climax, while remaining upright.

"What're you doing?" The voice of your one-night-stand came from behind you, making his way into the bathroom. You looked into the reflection of the mirror, getting off the last bits of your makeup while looking at him, arms crossed.

"Washing my face?" You replied, questioning what he'd been implying. Your voice was hoarse, skin warm and fresh from the water.

He didn't respond, only walking toward you, torso hitting your back while you'd been watching him approach you through the reflection of the mirror, eyebrows furrowed at his actions. You felt your skirt lifted once more, thong moved to the side as he pressed a finger to your cunt once more.

"We aren't done, pretty thing." His maroon eyes were focused on your ass, hips pressed on the sink, your back a little arched as you'd been leaning over to look into the mirror. He pushed a finger in you once more, wet sounds of him finger fucking your pussy filling the small room. You gasped, grabbing hold of the sink. You stretched around a second finger, screech leaving your lips as he darted them in and out of you, other hand slipping up your dress and under the bra you'd worn to toy with your bare nipple. He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching your face in the mirror as it contorted, mouth open wide, eyelids fluttering closed.

You were bent over the mattress as soon as you'd entered the room once more, panties pulled down to your ankles, his hand un-clipping the lace bra that clung to your skin. Fingers were pushed into you once more, massaging at your walls. He curled them, rubbing against your sensitive spot as you squirmed, grabbing at the sheets either side of your face.

"Look how pretty you are." His lips were next to your ear, as you opened your eyes through your haze, looking at your reflection. He massaged at your walls, grasping at your chest.

"Can't wait to see how you look, stuffed full of me." His words were like music to you. You bit your lip as he removed the digits from your abused pussy, gripping the hem of your dress and pulling it upward. You raised your arms, allowing him to remove it entirely, now stood only in your underwear.

"Can we do this in the bedroom?" You requested, and the male silently turning to leave the en-suite in a non-verbal reply.

He pulled them out, lining his cock to the dripping hole, teasing it inside. You'd let out a hum at the fullness, being stretched wider than his fingers had previously, squeezing your eyes closed as you'd felt him bottom out, though knowing he'd had more to give if you'd had the space to accommodate it. Once you'd adjusted to the size, he picked up his pace, fucking you into the mattress under you. His hips clashed with your ass, large hands encapsulating your hips with their grip, using you as if a toy.

You'd been a moaning mess beneath him, pussy clenching around the cock he'd fed you, his hand finally tracing down your thigh as he leaned forward, stomach pressed into your back while he'd reached between your parted legs, rubbing over your clit once more. You'd bucked your hips, though it had been in vain as his body had you pressed into the bed so deeply that you'd been unable to move, other than the rocks of each pound into you. Dizzy, cock drunk, you'd accepted that you probably wouldn't be able to move until he'd been done with you.

"Taking my cock so well." He'd hummed. You could feel his breathlessness in the form of his stomach's faltered movements, sucking in and out in a feverish state. You could only moan in response to any commentary he'd give, brain whiting out with each pound, eyes glossing over. You hadn't known what it had meant to be in a daze until now, barely conscious, only able to think about one thing - cumming.

Your pussy was stuffed full, rammed from behind as his dick had been pumping in and out of you at full pelt, squelching inevitable from how aroused you'd been, slaps from how he'd crashed into you with each thrust. You wondered if a second orgasm would even be possible, but with the way his fingers grazed over your clit, cock jamming you full, you could feel a tightness building within the pit of your stomach.

He was grunting above you now, you'd been unable to turn and look but you could picture his eyes watching your smaller frame being squashed by his larger one, your eyes crossing through your own pleasure. Or maybe, he'd had them closed, half as hazed as you, as if what you'd been enduring was in another plain. If this is how you could have been fucked by any other man you'd dated, you felt like this was your virginity - no one had made you feel so intoxicated on nothing but pure arousal. It was animistic, the need for his cock, the completion you'd felt set deep within you as you were receiving it.

Your body tightened up, almost squeezing on him so intensely he couldn't move - though he'd powered through anyway, cock cramped inside the gummy walls, kneading over him in ways that had him grunting, groaning, an internal battle within him to just hold out until you'd found your high-

You let out a whine, louder than the prior sounds falling from your lips, teeth clenching yet jaw jittering, the vision that had slowly been blurred now coming to stop at a mash of colours and shapes. This was what getting your brain fucked out had felt like. The first orgasm had been intense, but this had been as if you'd been transported to another dimension. You weren't sure if you were still conscious, ears ringing, a ring of cream forming around the stranger's dick. He'd watched in awe and curiosity, cock twitching as he'd felt the wave wash over, mouth opening beneath the cloth to release another sound.

Your pussy compulsed around him, wave of seed filling you and spilling out around his shaft, for there hadn't been any extra room inside your abused cunt to house the white ropes shooting from him. He'd gripped into your side with so much force, fighting to keep himself steady, and you were sure there'd be marks in the morning.

He evacuated you, leaving you a heaped mess on the bed, unable to move. Your body was sore, arms and legs crushed from the weight of his body, pussy aching from the amount it had been used. You were face down, fatigued.

Time passed strangely, mind in a haze, but you'd felt a damp cloth wipe over your cunt, a pair of strong arms lifting you to place you at the top of the mattress, a duvet weighing down on your tender skin. You couldn't open your eyes, but under the lids had been an array of shapes, patterns and refraction of light, almost as if you'd been looking into a kaleidoscope. You could hear sound around you, but had been unable to piece together much more than the fact it had been the male that had just given you the fuck of your life, most likely cleaning up after the pair of you.

The warm lamp light that had seeped through your eyelids was turned off, your eyebrows furrowing when you hadn't felt the bed beside you move to accommodate the stranger's weight. You muttered a slur of incoherent words, asking where he was going, but you'd had no reply other than the door closing. If you'd had been in your right mind, maybe you'd have run after him, but with exhaustion setting over you, and the knowledge you'd been nude and unprepared to dress yourself, you fell victim to the wariness and slumber over came you.

The following day, you'd been woken up. Mitsuri had shaken you, and through the mist of your sleeping state, you'd wondered if it had been the stranger. Excitement fizzled out as you'd opened your eyes, glancing over the familiar green eyes opposed to the maroon ones you'd so desired. There was a small part of you that had questioned if last night had been real, but as you'd felt your skin graze on the soft sheets enveloping you, you'd realised it had been.

Mitsuri had questions, through her smile. She'd persuaded her lover to bring her back to check if you'd still been here, for Shinobu had given her the information she'd so greatly wanted, that you'd disappeared last night, upstairs with a man in costume. Your mind had been hazy, but Mitsuri didn't consider your clouded thoughts, instead pleading with you to inform her of what had happened.

You explained it, in detail. Obanai had been waiting in the car, confused and slightly concerned as to why the pair of you hadn't already poked your heads through the door, all while you'd been describing the most memorable night of your life.

The only issue had been, you'd had no idea who the man was.

After speaking with Mitsuri, you'd assumed she'd be able to identify the features - insanely tall, muscular and maroon coloured eyes, but she hadn't. Obanai had heard the story too, though you'd hoped Mitsuri would have spared some details and your dignity, and he'd suggested the unusual eye colour was simply down to contacts. At first, you didn't agree, but as time went on, you'd ended up accepting the possibility, as if anyone would have known him, they'd have immediately recognized the description. Mitsuri had wanted to ask Rengoku, but you'd begged her not to - if the mysterious male had wanted you to know who he was, he would've given you more of a sign. Instead, he'd left you in the bed alone, not even saying a half-hearted good-bye before he'd left, perpetually.

You'd thought of him late at night. When you'd needed a release, you searched for the memory deep in the back of your head, wondering if he'd imagined you too. But, for the amount of lust and experience he'd had, it was likely you'd just been another one night stand for him.

The only negative you'd been able to conjure up had been that you were now unable to find a partner as fulfilling as he'd been. Following that night, you'd made it your duty to get laid multiple times, wondering if you'd be able to fill the hole he'd left - but you couldn't. No man, or woman, had amounted to the intensity he'd given you. The way he'd fucked you had been as if you'd been given a drug; you were searching to find that high again.

You thought you'd never find it.

A year had passed, life changing around you, yourself moulding into a new person, and still, you'd found sex unsatisfactory. You'd started to despise the man from this-time-last-year, wondering if maybe he'd just fucking hated you. Forming a relationship felt nigh-on-impossible when no one could begin to amount to him. There was only one person you'd been hopeful of, thinking he would suffice, but after once or twice, the charm had worn off.

In this time, one positive had occurred; you'd been offered a higher paying job with a better company. After attending a few more of Rengoku's parties, hoping to scout out the familiar male but never coming close, you'd actually spoken with the blonde a little more, befriending him. You'd texted from time to time, the odd check up, meeting the other's gaze when out with friends, and he'd mentioned a job opening within his friend's company. Finally, a position you'd felt was adequately paid, and you'd had more than enough relevant experience to land it.

Today had been your first day.

Swallowing back the nerves, you adjusted the dress trousers once more, flattening out any creases and standing straight. The elevator dinged, signalling your arrival at the first floor, anxious feet stepping out behind the mentor you'd been assigned. She had been to bring you to the boss' office for an introduction, a welcome as she'd phrased it. You'd been a bundle of nerves from the beginning, and now, stress added heavily on top of that.

There had been glass walls throughout the office, allowing light to cascade through and brighten up the already light atmosphere, many employees smiling at you through the golden rays. It had been a little more high budget than your previous job, though the salary had reflected that.

You stepped to an office with blinds, a black door displaying a silver name plate, 'T. Uzui' boldly stated. It was obvious this office was special, a private space opposed to the omniscient layout of the building. Your mentor had knocked, waiting a few moments before pulling the handle down, opening the door wide to allow you to step through first.

Heart racing, you braved the moment, straightening out the fabric one more time before taking the lead. There had been a male, white hair flowing down either side of his face, eyes focused over documents before him, taking a moment before standing. You'd smiled, though avoided eye contact with him, as he held out his hand over the desk he'd been sat before. You took it, listening as he'd introduced himself, your colleague wondering in behind you.

"Tengen Uzui." He'd spoken, deep voice erupting from the smirk on his lips, as you'd fought the urge to furrow your eyebrows. The voice had been familiar, but you hadn't been able to put your finger on where you'd heard it before. You glanced up to his face, finally, your name leaving your lips as you studied the features. He'd been amused, and you'd tried to rack your brain, fighting to find the memory he'd appeared within, but falling short.

"Please, take a seat." He removed his hand from yours, though not before it had lingered over your palm, as if he'd been encouraging you to remember, too.

You took a seat beside the other female, as he had sat back in the office chair behind the wooden desk. He'd explained a few things about how he'd founded the company from his own home, and where it sat today, all while you'd been working in overdrive, attempting to pull forward any relevant experiences.

It was possible he'd simply attended one of Rengoku's parties, considering the two had been friends, and you'd seen him from the corner of your eye while drunk, a useless encounter your brain had removed due to lack of importance. But, as you studied over his eyes, ones that had been watching you with such deep interest, you'd figured it was something more than that. You'd interacted with him somehow, those maroon eyes-

"Oh." You stated under your breath, a gasp pulling through your lips as your eyes widened in shock, face heating in embarrassment as your recalled that night.

The CEO of the company you'd just been accepted into had been the reason you'd stayed awake at night. The reason all other intimacy had been off the table for you, why you'd clenched around your own fingers wishing they were his. His smirk grew as your mouth had fallen agape, body stiffening up.

"Sorry, is there a problem?" He questioned, his smile unfaltering as he glanced between yourself and the employee next to you. You frantically shook your head, though you hadn't been oblivious to the way he'd watched over you, waiting the for the reaction to fall so beautifully from you as it had.

"N-no," You stuttered, stomach twisting as you stared into those eyes for the second time in your life. "I, uh-" Trying to come up with an explanation for your behaviour was impossible as you glanced over his figure, knowing how those hands had felt over you, body plush against yours and cock balls deep inside you.

"Nezuko," His eyes flickered to the woman seated beside you. "Could you give us a moment, please? In fact, just return to your desk. I'll finish the introduction here." He questioned, and the brunette stood, bowing before leaving the room. Your heart raced in your chest, a tightening squeeze as you anticipated his next move. He'd clearly been uninterested on seeing you again, considering he'd left you alone in bed that night, with no trace. Perhaps he was going to dismiss you, on the first day, to save awkwardness between you.

The door closed, leaving the pair of you in the room alone, seated opposite one another in silence. You eyed up his face; the features you had been unable to see previously. Over the course of the past year, you'd wondered why he'd kept the mask on. You'd thought perhaps he'd been unattractive, self-conscious, or maybe he hadn't liked you enough to let you see. But now, you'd understood a little more. CEO of a decent sized company, he'd probably done so to hide his identity - though you were sure he had been into it kink wise.

"I didn't think I'd see you again." You spoke, voice breaking from the uncomfortable atmosphere, shoulders tense and arms crossed. You felt small, but swallowed back your nervousness and decided to face him head on. His smile was static, gleam of playfulness in his eye.

"Did you put that much thought into our night?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow while you shifted in your seat.

"I'm not sure I'll ever forget." You admitted, flickering between his suited torso and the wood of the desk before him, clammy palms pressing into your trousers and clutching at the fabric for emotional support. You watched as his smile lessened, expression morphing as he'd glanced over you, clearly reliving that evening while staring at your body.

"Oh?" That was all he'd been able to ask, encouraging you to explain more, but not giving the satisfaction of knowing that he'd been thinking of you, too.

"I haven't been able to find someone as good as you. Honestly, you killed my sex life." You let out a dry laugh, eyes falling to the hem of your trouser leg, picturing the mediocre sex you'd had since, how there hadn't been a male able to consider your pleasure as much as he'd done.

"Sorry to hear that." His voice was low, aura changed, but you still couldn't look up to face him. "I can help you with that, though." Tengen stood, straightening his suit jacket as he walked around the desk. You glanced over him, his towering figure casting over your seated body, looking down over you as he leaned back on the table.

You swallowed, only able to watch as he pulled the remaining blinds closed within his office, returning to you with a smirk as he knelt before your seated body, hands resting on your hips as his long fingers looped into the waistband of your trousers, hooking around and pulling at them. "Here?" You questioned, Tengen tugging at your trousers once more. You pushed yourself up, standing before him, allowing his tugs to expose the bottom half of your body, his eyes trailing over the lace panties. He leaned forward, placing a kiss at your navel, trailing down until his mouth sat at your folds, practically sucking at the black lace. Your breaths became deeper, Tengen pulling back the second layer of fabric to reveal your cunt.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, letting a shaking breath leave your lips slowly, awaiting movement from him once more to signal his wants.

"Well," He exhaled, glossing over you before talking once more. "I'm not one to deprave a woman of what she needs."

He guided your hips to sit back down, pulling the garments from your legs and spreading them, placing each knee over the arms of the chair. You leaned back, biting your lip at the cool air hitting your wettened pussy, Tengen's mouth inches from kissing your exposed pussy.

He brought his lips to your clit, softly placing a kiss over you, then another, working around each part of your pussy with gentle pecks, finally involving his tongue after every inch had been attended to. He licked from your throbbing hole to the hood in one large swipe, then using smaller, kitten licks, to taste you.

You'd been fighting back whines since he'd began, but with a flick over your clit, followed by a sloppy, french kiss between folds, you couldn't help but bring a hand to lace in his hair, gripping him for support as you moaned. Tengen laughed against you, vibrations causing your stomach to flutter as he'd used his tongue to swirl around your clit, each time your grip would tighten to signal you'd been closer, he'd drop his lips to fuck your hole instead, darting his tongue in and out of you. You were sure your bottom lip had to be close to bleeding from how hard you'd bitten down on it in attempts to stay quiet, eyes squeezed shut and torso tense, legs spread as far as your body would allow.

He introduced his fingers, slowly introducing the middle one to your clenching cunt, teasing it in slowly to stretch your walls. It's as if no time had passed, for the feeling of him stuffing his finger into you had felt so familiar, so fulfilling. The ache you'd tried to counter for so long was finally being satisfied, long nights desperately trying to make yourself cum like he'd done, now put to rest as you were gratified with him once again.

He curled his finger, massaging you with his tongue as your quiet whines cascaded from heavy breaths, eyes squeezed shut in bliss, mouth agape. He looked up to you as he'd worked your pussy up, erection growing as he'd looked at the way your face had relaxed, as if you were in some sort of euphoric trance. He'd added another finger, causing a roll of your hips, hand still firmly sat atop his head, though Tengen had been the one with control, your drooping arm being guided by his movements.

You felt yourself gush over his fingers, muscles tingling over your body, legs spread as wide as you were able to move them. He'd groaned against you, addicted to the taste you were giving him, the pussy he'd missed since that night. You were shaking, weight fully pressed into the leather of the chair you'd been situated on for you weren't able to support yourself after coming down from such a high.

"Feel so good~" A hum of praise from you had encouraged his actions, flicking over you again, cream from your pussy coating his fingers further. He'd been lapping up the mix of arousal and his own saliva, spitting onto you every so often as it had earned moans from your lips. He could feel you getting closer, breaths more stuttered, as if you were forgetting to breathe while basking in the pleasure he'd bestowed onto you.

"P-please-" You gasped, head tilting back while your mouth widened, eyes rolling back and focus being clouded, whimpers leaving you while you'd tried to remain quiet - you were at work after all. Though, with Tengen being the company's founder, you were sure that you weren't going to face repercussions for this.

He'd pulled back, watching your drunken-like state with admiration, taking an action he'd done that night, placing his soaked digits to your mouth for you to taste. You'd barely noticed the fingers slip past your lips, but innately sucked, eyes finally over the foggy mess of mist you'd been clouded within while he'd pulled them out.

"Did that help you?" He questioned, voice laced in desire. You nodded, swallowing a mixture of his saliva and your arousal back before closing your legs a little, opening your mouth to speak.

"Can I make you cum too?" You questioned, glancing over his complexion, appreciating features that you'd been unable to discern before his face had been revealed to you. He glanced to the wall, looking over the clock that had sat above the closed blinds, swallowing.

"Next time." With those words he stood, turning to walk to his desk and open a drawer while you'd closed your legs, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor to put your feet haphazardly through the holes. You saw a box being waved before you from the corner of your eye, looking up to see a box of tissues. You exhaled while smiling, taking the box to use on yourself, though knowing that without fresh water, you'd be uncomfortable throughout the day.

"Tomorrow night?" He questioned, and you'd nodded, a grin across your cheeks.

"There'll be a next time?" You questioned, buttoning your trousers and tucking your shirt back in. "I was disappointed when you left, last time." Trying not to let your annoyance get the better of you, you'd attempted to politely express your feelings. He laughed, arms crossing over his chest.

"I'm not letting you go to waste, don't worry." His comment made your stomach flip; unbelieving a male of his stature had so much interest in yourself - not that you were complaining.

"What about dinner?" The forwardness overcame you, confidence boosted from his precious statement. Perhaps you were a little eager, but after a year, you didn't want to risk losing him once again. He smiled; Tengen had found assertiveness attractive.

a/n:

this is the end of kinktober !! i can't actually believe it! thank you to everyone who has supported me through this month, i appreciate it so much <3

honestly some of these fics i'm not entirely happy with - this one included, but i can see clear improvement over my writing since the start of this month.

i plan on releasing more fics and such, and im suppppeeerrrr excited about it! i feel like now i'm not restricted to kinktober i'll enjoy creating a lil more <3

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starlostastronaut · 6 months

Text

DAY 06 | STORIES TO BE TOLD

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

GENRE: idol au (jisung is a soloist), not angst, but bittersweet?, ambiguous ending

WC: 1.14k

CW: idol trainee!reader, implied felix/reader

PROMPT: coming back after years apart

here it isss! to the person who asked for no angst... well guess what lol (pls dont kill me ilyy). i remember having a great idea for this when i wrote the masterlist so naturally i forgot it 😭 but i have this instead. tbh i think i spent more time on backstory than the actualy story but oh well. and yes, i did put felix/reader in the story, but you can read it as past relationship if you want ;) enjoy <3

title from laughter lines - bastille

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Jisung looked out of the window again. His head was bobbing to the rhythm of the song playing through his headphones, and he watched the landscapes and cities pass by as the train made its way back to Seoul. He looked at his phone to check the time again. Exactly three minutes went by since he last checked. With a frustrated groan, he sank into his seat. The train was too slow, and Jisung was starting to regret deciding to ride it in the first place. He was visiting some of his friends down in Busan while also filming a music video, and against his better judgment, he decided to take the train back. He hoped he would have lesser chances of getting recognized, since no one would expect an idol on a train of all places. So there he was, tormented to several hours on a train. Normally, he wouldn't really mind, though. He had his beanie, headphones, and mask on, looking unrecognizable even with his manager sitting opposite him. He had his peace and quiet. Normally, he would be happy to relax on the train, but not today. Today he was seeing you and that made him extremely restless and giddy with excitement.

You and Jisung went way back. You were trainees at the same company, which is how you met. Your first conversation was a fight over the last piece of cheesecake at the company café. Having agreed to share it, you began talking, and ever since then, you became inseparable. You and Jisung would wait for each other after vocal lessons, he would give you pointers on your rapping, and in return you helped him with the JYPE basic dance routine. You had this symbiotic relationship that worked really well between you. Until Jisung's debut date approached. He would spend more time in the studio, going over his performance over and over again. You saw him less and less. And then he debuted, and you haven't seen him at all for a month because the public immediately fell in love with him, and as the new sensation, he was pushed from one music show to another. But he promised you that when you debuted as well and the initial whirlwind of chaos calmed down, it would go back to how it was. Except none of you thought of the fact that just a few weeks before your group was set to debut, you had been kicked off. The company never gave you a good enough reason, just some talk about “not fitting the group's vibe and concept” . You took it hard - harder than anyone expected. With your dreams being crushed, you packed all your things and moved to Australia. Jisung would never find out if it weren’t for another trainee named Chris, who helped you sort everything out. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not that you didn't want to, but Jisung and his success was just another painful reminder of the fact that you failed, and you didn't need that at that time.

In Australia, your life has gone pretty well. You applied to college, got your first boyfriend - a very sweet guy named Felix - and slowly healed from your failure back in Korea. Meanwhile, Jisung was busy with his idol career. You watched him thrive via social media once the pain eased a little. You even bought some of the albums. Felix convinced you to get tickets for Jisung's concert last year, but you never told anyone you went there. You did it mostly for your boyfriend anyway, who, as it turned out, was Jisung's fan. He almost lost his mind when he found out you and Jisung used to be best friends. But despite all of that, you never tried to contact Jisung, not even when he was in Sydney for his first tour. You were too scared of his reaction. After alll, you ran away without a proper goodbye. And Jisung never made contact either anyway, so you took it as a sign of your friendship truly being over.

Which eventually brought Jisung here, three years after he spoke to you for the last time. While he was in Busan, Chris messaged him to tell him that you were visiting Seoul in the next few days. Jisung spent a lot of time thinking about why Chris told him that. At first, he felt bitter and jealous, because clearly you've kept in contact with Chris but not him. His second thought was that he had to message you because he hadn't seen you in forever. His third thought was fear, because if you hadn't tried to contact him all this time, why would you want to see him now? But after two phone calls with Chris, he somehow found the courage to ask for your number and send the first text. He did it right before he went to sleep, knowing that otherwise he would be checking his phone every five seconds.

You left him on read for almost the whole day, carefully weighing the pros and cons. Ultimately, you decided to agree to his offer, the longing to see your former best friend again winning over the fear. So there you were, sitting in a small café alone, the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you slowly going cold. You almost decided to give up when Jisung came stumbling through the door. Your breath hitched in your throat. He looked the same as he did back then, but older and more mature. His hair was different, too. He spotted you almost immediately, rushing to your table.

“Hi! Hi, sorry I'm late, I-” He stopped and looked at you properly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling as you watched him sit down. He still had that nervous smile and the joyous spark in his eyes. You decided to break the tension by asking the most trivial, most hated question. But in your case, it only made sense. “How have you been?”

At first, it was awkward; both of you were unsure how to act with each other. But with every new topic, the conversation flowed more easily, until it felt like old times. You told him about Australia, about your time with Felix and about your life there. He told you stories from the tour, he told you about the people he's met and about his career. By the end of the afternoon, it was as if you had never left. You realized you missed this. You missed him. Suddenly, you didn't know how you managed to go three years without talking to him.

Jisung nervously checked his watch. “Look, I need to go in a moment, but I have the day off tomorrow?” he asked, gathering his things and taking out his wallet to pay the bill.

You smiled. “Yeah. I would like that.”

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year

Note

hi i just wanted to thank you firstly for writing. for sharing your art with the world. it fucking rocks. and secondly for writing ava as disabled and exploring her agency and emotion and affirming that disability has no bearing on one’s worth. and how it doesn’t affect her and bea’s love (and lust). thank you for Getting It

[i know this wasnt a prompt but i loved this ask so :) a lil smth]

when you wheel into bea’s office, you laugh at how she scrambles to try to hide the fact she’s definitely just watching tennis on her big desktop monitor.

‘working hard or hardly working?’ you ask.

she had told you, an hour or so ago, that she had some “important documents” to go over, which, half of the time, is her way of saying she just wants some alone time. you tell her all the time that she could just say that, but, apparently, you pout, and she can’t resist your pout.

today, she waits a beat, blushing at getting caught, and then laughs.

‘it’s… wait, don’t tell me… mmm. wimbledon? right now?’

‘the french open.’

‘ah, the one with the clay.’

‘yes.’

she sounds a little impressed that you know that, which would be embarrassing other than that your interest in tennis lies in the way everyone’s arms look in their little outfits—including when beatrice plays at the country club—which is a way cooler reason to enjoy a sport than winning.

‘what’s up?’ she asks, after you don’t say anything else. honestly you got a little stuck thinking about beatrice’s shoulders, and then her freckles, and then the flat, muscular plane of her chest and her abs, and — ‘ava?’

tragically, she’s wearing a hoodie right now, a saving grace for the productivity of this conversation. you refocus. ‘i’m taking you on a date.’

‘are you now?’

‘i am. be ready to leave in an hour and a half.’

‘alright. dress code?’

‘nothing, ideally.’ she rolls her eyes. ‘whatever you want. we’re going somewhere new, but it’s casual.’

bea nods. ‘okay.’

‘do you need any more mission details, or —‘

she just sighs.

‘okay, good talk, team. see ya in an hour and a half.’

it had been a hard two months, recovering from your most extensive surgery so far, dr salvius and the team of spine specialists she’s recruited for the past few years trying to stabilize your degenerating nerves and discs and vertebrae. the part that’s the worst is preventing the halo from healing everything right away; it’s protective of you, passively, simmering with anger between your shoulder blades, feeling like it’s been given anesthesia too.

it’s been years since you’d gotten it, though: when beatrice, and your sisters and friends care for you after surgery — when they care for you anytime — you understand, now, that they love you. your spine, and the halo humming along it — your pain and mobility limitations and anything else that comes along with it — don’t make you less bright, or capable, or funny. to beatrice — even when she’s had to help you pee in a bedpan or help you wash yourself in the shower on your shower seat — they don’t make you less sexy. she always wants, when you feel up to it, to kiss and cuddle and, once you’re better, touch you, and to let you touch her. she wants you to hold her as she falls asleep, and she wants you to, even though she grumbles about it for show, steal her sweaters. she carefully pulls socks onto your cold feet in the mornings, when you can’t bend over enough to reach them without excruciating pain, and then kisses your knee, your hip, stands to kiss your temple, your forehead, your mouth.

your broken back, always trying and sometimes failing, to hold itself together, makes you who you are, a part sliding into all the pieces that make up a whole. the joy held in her care; the devout reverence; the happiness — there are miracles all the time, you’ve learned, and to you this might be the biggest one of all.

you make a big show of pretending to cover your eyes when you both happen to be in the closet at the same time, and it works because beatrice laughs. ‘give me two minutes to grab my outfit,’ she says, kisses the top of your head, runs a finger along the shell of your ear and then along your jaw. easy touches, that she doesn’t even think about, to show you she wants you. you lean into her hand, your eyes still closed.

you play along, listening to her methodically and efficiently gather her things, and then she squeezes your shoulder.

‘i’ll use my office restroom,’ she says, ‘and you can get ready here.’

‘what if i said i was ready now?’ you don’t have any makeup on, and you’re in a pair of her old joggers, one of the cuffs fraying, and a t-shirt you’d found that has a cat with laser beams shooting out of its eyes; you haven’t brushed your hair after the shower you took post-physical therapy in the morning.

‘i would say that you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.’ you preen, even with your eyes closed; you hear the smile in her voice. ‘but that i would certainly be the better dressed one tonight.’

you huff a laugh and she tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear and then kisses your cheek.

things take a little longer, when you’re hurting, but they’re not impossible. you can reach everything in your closet that you might want, and the counter in the bathroom has space underneath it for your chair, and is low enough you can easily see the mirror. you love your physical and occupational therapists; at this point, you’ve worked with them for years consistently, and it’s second nature to know how to do everything you want when your mobility is limited. it’s not easy, but it’s also not really that hard. the world at large isn’t built for you, but beatrice had built you a home, and you had built her one too: greens she loves; paintings she lingers by still, even if you’ve had them for a while.

korra, always eager to help, gets you a water from the fridge when you give her the command, and she lazes by your feet later, panting happily. she’s worked hard the past two months, and you’re a little bit in awe of her.

you get ready, manage a perfect eyeliner and drape the velvet vintage dress, a deep, burnt orange, kind of glorious, that you’d found in ruth’s closet — that she has insisted you take, because it didn’t fit her anymore and because you looked beautiful and because you loved it — elegantly in the chair. you could struggle, in pain, to fasten the thin straps of the heels you’d picked, but you know bea won’t mind.

you’re just finishing up when you hear bea’s soft footsteps behind you; she can still pad silently if she wants, but this is another way she’s relaxed into your home, your life, your love. you turn and smile, helplessly, because she’s leaning against the doorframe, bathed in the waning light.

you wheel toward her, taking in the impeccably neat tuck of her tight t-shirt into a pair of navy linen slacks, her rich brown belt and loafers matching. she has on mascara and cologne, the rolex you’d gotten her on her wrist, her wedding band faithfully on her finger.

‘you look beautiful,’ she says, a little breathless.

‘so do you.’

‘i suppose i’ll have to settle for a draw.’

‘mmm. for what?’

‘best dressed,’ she tells you, and you laugh.

‘we can be the best dressed couple,’ you offer, and she beams.

she wheels you, because you’d asked her, because she never offers but she never pauses, not even for a moment, when you ask her. the highly-anticipated cambodian food pop up at the wine bar she loves is near enough you don’t need to drive, and there’s a nice patio in the back that korra loves to go to, so she walks happily beside you.

‘hey,’ you say, turning around so you can look at her. the air is still warm and the blue haze of twilight sits around her quietly, catching the grey streaks that have started to pop up in her short hair.

‘yes?’

‘i love you. thank you for this life.’

she pauses, walks to the front of your chair, and bends down to kiss you, right there on the sidewalk, just like that. ‘i love you too, ava. a better life than i ever could’ve imagined.’

you clear your throat; you hadn’t planned to cry. ‘let’s go get so much food.’

she laughs, but you hear a sniffle too. ‘yeah?’

‘oh, yeah. i’m gonna order the whole menu.’

#wn #warrior nun fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#they're in love! they're whole ppl! love them

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mercurygray · 4 months

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Blind Dates Fest 2024 - Freda Torvaldsen, ARCS

A few days ago I asked for MOTA prompts, and @junojelli delivered:

A MOTA scene prompt for you: a new arrival is amongst the clubmobile ladies at the local pub one evening. Of course, it would only be right that they give her the lowdown on the men they can see in the bar, and the recent gossip on possible nocturnal escapades of course 😏

So! An extra Blind Date! You can learn more about @blind-dates-fest at their blog.

Fandom: Masters of the Air

It was only a matter of time before the subject came up.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a Freda before.”

It was always like this, her first day in a new assignment, where you been, where you from, what do you do. And then inevitably someone would work around to the obvious. So... what’s a name like Torvaldsen doing with a name like Freda?

“And neither had my mother,” Freda said with a resigned smile, sitting down heavily and nodding thankfully to one of the other girls for the beer. “After my father and brother were both Peters I think she just wanted something interesting.” She shrugged. “She told me once she found the name in a short story in a woman’s magazine. Never got confused with another girl in class, though! Fred’s just fine, for every day use. It’ll get tossed in eventually, so we may as well start there.”

Fred was easy - approachable, even. A good way to start a conversation, a quick, easy joke to set everyone on the same level. Who’s on shift today, girls? Rose, Laura, and Fred. Wait, Fred? And she’d stick her head out from wherever she was hiding, and the boys would all have a laugh that Fred was really a twenty-six year old blonde from Madison, Wisconsin with a big smile, and not the paunchy driver from Brooklyn they all pictured when they heard the name. She didn’t mind the jokes, really - it made the whole job easier. So what’s your name, solider? You have a nickname, too? Where you from? The whole reason she was there, in three questions or less - to make the average G.I. feel at home, seen, valued and wanted.

“Where’d you say you were, before this?” Helen asked. At least, she thought it was Helen - or was it Ellen? Honestly, Tatty had run through the team of three pretty quickly this morning and she might have misheard. Tatty, of course, was easy to remember - Katherine Spaatz, with a last name the papers wouldn’t soon forget and a face that liked being photographed. Mary Boyle was the other, a sparkling-eyed Irish girl from Des Moines who looked like just the kind the fellows all liked to spin around a dance more than once. She couldn’t remember the name of the girl she was replacing, either - not that that mattered much. She was going home with the one non-communicable disease the Red Cross didn’t want to deal with - pregnant, Mary had mouthed across the table when they’d first met this morning, her fresh off the bus from London and Tatty skating artfully around the subject.

“Did a spell at the canteen in Washington, another couple months in London in a few different spots,” Freda offered. “I guess I’m a professional replacement at this point - which is either a compliment or a curse. You’ll have to tell me which.”

“Well, we’re happy to have you, for as long as we’ve got,” Tatty said with a nod. “Did they tell you what the work would be like? Working a base is different than canteen service.”

“The hours, for a start,” Mary said, rolling her eyes.

“If they’re running a mission, they’re up and at ‘em at 4:30 for a 5 am briefing, which means -”

“Service ready for 4:45,” Freda filled in, nodding along. “Means we’ll be starting about...three thirty, maybe, to have everything hot and ready?”

“Will that be a problem?” Tatty asked, her eyes dark and decisive across the table.

Freda shook her head. “Always was more of a morning person. How long are they usually out for?”

“Longer runs...six, seven, eight hours at a time? Tower will give us a ring when they’re expected back in, and then we rack up donuts and coffee in the interrogation hut. You’ll need to be sharp on that shift,” Tatty warned. “They don’t always come back looking pretty.”

“Doctor’s usually on hand to evaluate anyone who can walk. If they’re still standing he’ll turn ‘em loose on the interrogation team,” Mary explained. “Captain Brennan and her girls run that room - she’s nice, you’ll like her.”

“You’re not there to make small talk for that one - pass out coffee and get ‘em to their table as quick as you can. Each crew runs through the whole mission - what they saw, who they shot at, bombs dropped. The after-action report. Once they’re done, they’re free to leave, and so are we. We’ll do dishes and clean-up, and then get the coffee urns ready to drive ‘round to the crews. Can you drive?”

“Well enough for Wisconsin,” Freda offered with a shrug. “We had a Ford I could grind through.” She didn’t say anything about the last time someone had asked her if she knew how to drive, and how she’d nearly run over the campus mascot trying to muscle a Clubmobile into a turn.

“Sounds like you’ll be driving our Jeep, then. We’ve got one assigned to us.”

Freda nodded, trying to maintain serenity. Well, that’s all right. A Jeep’s not a remodeled London bus, and it sure as hell doesn’t drive like one.

“The planes are parked out on hardstands and the crew basically live out there while they’re working,” Tatty went on, “So we take coffee and sandwiches around once the planes come back in. They’re good guys out there - better than the flyboys, sometimes.”

“Now, Tatty, don’t go turning her head the wrong way,” Mary interjected, before Freda could ask what a hardstand was. “They’re all nice. Just take some getting used to.”

“Anyone I’ll need to watch out for?” Freda asked, glancing around the club, which was gradually beginning to fill for the evening - officers in their Class As, the gilt on their wings like sunshine, laughter like a river. The knucklehead who knocked up your friend, for instance?

Tatty made a gesture across the room towards the biggest group. “The tall one horsing around with the dartboard is John Egan - Major Egan, rather. Or Bucky, if you want nicknames. He’s mostly harmless, but he’ll flirt with anything. Just give as good as you get and you’ll be fine. Man next to him is Major Gale Cleven - also Buck - who you’ll wish was single and isn’t.”

“He’s got a girl back home in Wyoming,” Helen (Ellen?) put in, her smile a little wistful. “Ask him about her sometime.”

“Man with the permanent frown is Major William Veal - Bill, sometimes. He’s all business, you’ll never see him dance, so don’t ask. Tall fellow next to him with the lighter curly hair is Major Jack Kidd, also mostly business.”

Freda’s eyebrows went up. “Mostly?” Now there’s a word with a story.

It was Tatty’s turn to smile. “We think he might be sweet on Mary, when he lets himself.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Only because the rest of you gang up on him!”

“Those are the squadron commanders, anyway - the other pilots and navigators and crews report to them. It’s a lot of names,” Tatty said, almost dismissive.

Notice how she didn’t say I’d learn them, Freda thought to herself. They’d told her that much in London, when she’d gotten her assignment. Don’t get too attached to your post, or the soldiers there. They can change or leave at any time. It’s a war, not a weekend.

“Ladies! And how are we all on this fine evening, eh?” Here it was - faces up. Freda found her smile and turned to see who it was - a young man with black hair and blue eyes and a smile just this side of mischievous. And this one is named Trouble, I’ll bet. First lieutenant with flying wings - a pilot. “You all over here plottin’ somethin’ we fellas need to be made aware of?”

“Just introducing the new girl around, Curt.” Tatty gestured to Freda, on the other side of the table, who raised a hand and nodded hello.

Trouble (Curt?) smiled a little wider, his hand on Tatty’s shoulder, leaning closer over the table. “Oh, the new girl, eh? And does the new girl have a name?

“New girl answers to Fred,” Freda said with a patient smile, trying not to smile too hard at the patently obvious big-city, big-spender feeling rolling off of the lieutenant in waves. New Yorkers. You could run them off a press like that. It was funny, sometimes, how much they tried not to be types - but she’d known far too many men like him. That was the trouble with canteen service - you saw so many they all started to look the same. “And she’s not looking for another drink, before the lieutenant starts asking.”

“Tough customer!” He laughed at that. “Curtis Biddick, at your service, Fred. Now, if any one of these jokers starts anything or gets fresh, you come find me, alright?” He pointed, for emphasis, and she took note of the knuckles of his hand, the shortness of his nails. “Gotta take care of our girls, you know, since you’re always taking care of us.”

“I’ll certainly keep it in mind, Lieutenant.”

Biddick waved the rank away like it was a fly he were swatting. “Now, none of this lieutenant crap, Fred. My friends call me Curt.” He fixed his eye on her and she smiled, and nodded - heard and acknowledged. Confident they had an understanding, he clapped Tatty’s shoulder again and stood up. “Tatty. Mary. Helen. Fred. Yous all have a good night, now.”

“Well, there you are, Fred. If Biddick likes you you’re set. He was serious about finding him, too - he’s the company boxing champion.”

“Of course he is,” Freda said with a smile, finally able to place where she’d seen hands like that before. And a total sweetheart underneath all of it, if I read him right.

And a soldier, something in her head reminded her. That’s the trouble with working a base - they won’t just be here for a night. You’ll have learn their names, and their girlfriends, see them day in and day out - until one day you don’t.

She took a deep breath and a sip of her beer, still glancing around the room, at the laughing men at the dartboard, the craps game, the piano, everyone alive and free and full of life. Maybe it had been a bad idea to start with names.

---

Eagle-eyed readers will notice that I have name-dropped several new characters in here; one of them, Marion, is my other Blind Date this year. You'll meet her on Saturday!

#i have written a thing #blind dates fest 2024 #freda torvaldsen #1940s girl gang #also i feel it is incumbent upon me to tell you she and curtis are not a thing #don't get your hopes up #masters of the air OC

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