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backtothefanfiction · 8 months

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Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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arkhammaid · 3 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #kevin magnussen x reader #tony stark x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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nicksolemnlyswears · 6 months

Text

WAYS TO COME UNDONE

this is part 2 of WAYS TO DESTRESS but can be read as a standalone

summary: coriolanus keeps his promise about making you squirt all over him. what better way to do it than in front of the mirror.

pariring: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, sex in front of mirror, squirting, pussy spanking, p in v, use of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people), I DESPERATELY NEED A CORYO IN MY LIFE

a/n: hi 🌚 many wanted this, myself included hehe. it took a turn towards the end where it basically wrote itself. i have no control over what tickles my brain. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do. hopefully this oneshot shows more about the machinations of their relationship.

requests open ✨

From the moment Coryo showed you the racy clip of him using you while asleep, you have not been able to stop the waves of heat that consume your cunt.

You're a stellar student who always concentrates on the lectures and participates in class. Today, you find yourself in the back of the classroom, daydreaming about Coriolanus and his tongue. Focusing was out of the picture for you as you tried not to sneak your hand between your thighs and soothe the ache.

One of the many reasons your relationship works so well is that both of you are extremely perverted. Coriolanus has always been more in tune with that side of himself, but you needed assistance to bring that side out. Coriolanus saw it in you long before you did, and he patiently gauged it out and molded it to fit his crooked ways.

It's why Coriolanus using you while you were knocked cold has you acting this way. He pleasured himself when you were at your most vulnerable, and instead of feeling violated, you thanked him. You savor that instead of finding another whore to fuck his frustration out, he stays with you, no matter the state. If that makes you sick, then be it.

When your last class was over, you rushed to the apartment. You needed Coriolanus to stop this burning inside you. Sadly, he's a teacher's pet and workaholic who only managed to get home at eight at night.

He walks into the apartment calmly, humming under his breath while you watch him like a hawk. Coryo sees you on the living room couch 'lounging' and approaches you to leave a kiss on your head. Your eye twitches when he announces he's going to shower.

His upturned lips give him away. He's tormenting you. As if waiting for him all day wasn't torture enough. It could be worse, though he could've stayed longer at the lab. God knows he has a ton of experiments to work on.

With a huff, you follow him into the bedroom.

"How was your day, darling?" He asks, taking his clothes off.

He's like a masterpiece that has escaped a museum. His fair skin is unblemished except for the scars on his back that you've spent hours running your fingers over. Sometimes, he feels them burn, a reminder of what he's done in the past, but then you're there kissing over them to ease the pain.

"Long," you dryly respond, crossing your arms, inadvertently accentuating your chest.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Coryo says humorously, stepping into the steaming shower.

The foggy glass hides him from you, but you remain watching by the bathroom door. Despite your short answers, he continues to talk to you, successfully getting under your skin.

He's entertained by your lingering presence. Privacy is not in your vocabulary anymore. Coriolanus likes it when you get this needy. It's like an experiment where he tests how far you're willing to go.

It's not complicated; all you have to do is ask, and he'll give you the world, but you're too modest for your own good. It prevents you from coming right out with it. You could've had him the moment he stepped into the apartment if you had only asked.

You look at him hopefully when he steps out of the shower. Shamelessly, you take every inch of him. Coriolanus strong shoulders, his chiseled chest and abs, his pretty pink cock that hangs half hard most of the time.

He deprives you of it as he wraps a towel around his hips. Coriolanus approaches you, water droplets falling from his blonde hair and down his body.

Coriolanus is so close to you, and when you think he'll dip his head down to kiss you, he grabs your hips and moves you to the side to give himself passage into the bedroom. "'Excuse me."

You want to throw him with the vase of roses settled on the bathroom counter. You resist since you need him to be conscious for what you have planned. You're aware of how Coriolanus can read you like a book. So why isn't he asking about your mood or if you need anything?

He sits against the headboard, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his cock clearly outlined by the fabric. Coriolanus doesn't wear underwear to bed, he doesn't like the tight fabric when he's asleep. Having you hugging him throughout the night is enough.

With a huff, you strut over to the bed and straddle his lap. Expecting it, Coriolanus reaches for your hips, holding you tight onto him.

"Do it again," you say, placing your hands on his chest and provocatively arching your back as if offering yourself to him.

"What, darling?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. He tilts his head towards you as if he didn't hear you properly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Make me squirt," you say blatantly. It sounds wrong coming from your lips.

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "I said another time, darling. I'm tired tonight."

You punch his naked chest weakly, with your frown turning deeper. He grabs your hand midway through the air as you try to smack him again.

Amused at your boldness, he opens your palm and laces your fingers together. He kisses the back of your hand and holds it to his chest.

"You are mean and cruel, Coriolanus," you spit out, hoping to annoy him by using his full name. Maybe this will make him do it or at least provoke him to do something.

"You knew that when you accepted to marry me." His gaze hardens as he taps on the engagement ring on your fourth finger.

It glints delicately, catching people's attention and letting them know you're taken. He spent months searching for the right ring for you. Coriolanus had to find the perfect balance: nothing too simple where it would pass unseen but nothing too gaudy where you wouldn't wear it.

"I don't care how cruel you are to others as long as it's not me," you respond, cradling his jaw in your hand.

"Give me a good reason why I should do it," he asks, kissing your palm.

"I'll do anything, Coryo. I'll suck you off in the lab, cockwarm you in my father's office, let you tie me up, fuck my throat, anything! Hell, I'll even let you try anal again," you huff, winding yourself up.

You must really want it if you brought up anal. It's the one thing you've tried and haven't wanted to do again. You're pretty open to his suggestions, but that one is your hard limit.

He won't make you do it again. Seeing you needy like this is enough. Although he might take your offer of blowing him under the desk in his lab.

"You make a compelling case," he hums, looking at you carefully. You're flushed without him even touching you, and your nipples are hard under your nighty.

This isn't a whim, your body is visibly begging for him. Coriolanus has to pat himself on the back. This is all his doing.

"Coryo, you don't know how many times I've watched that video," you say as if to prove how much you need him.

"Kiss me," Coriolanus sighs, giving in.

You slam your lips against his, eagerly kissing him until you're breathless. Your fingers curl around his hair, tugging the strands and making him groan into your mouth. Taking the opportunity, you slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him.

Coriolanus smacks a hand down on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint behind. In retaliation, your teeth bite harshly onto his lower one, causing a drop of blood to surface.

"I love you, darling," he growls as his eyes darken with lust, and he cups your face with both his hands. You've turned so bold under his tutelage, stealing pages from the book he wrote.

"Yeah, I love you too, come on," you pant, taking off your night dress to reveal yourself to him.

"I've created a monster," Coryo murmurs, pawing on one of your breasts as he mouths the other one.

"Don't act like you don't like it," you moan, rolling your hips down on his bulge. Your lack of underwear is apparent as a wet patch forms on his pants.

Coryo involuntarily unwraps you from his body as he stands from the bed. You chase his lips with a whine when he pulls away from you. Coriolanus sets a chair in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, sitting on it and motioning for you to sit on his lap.

If he's going to give you what you want, he will do it his way. You need him to make you squirt, so he's going to have you watch so you never forget about the moment. He'll engrave in your brain how it was he who made it possible.

With his hands on your waist, he turns you to face the mirror and pulls you down to sit with your back to his chest. Just like a doll, he positions you with your legs propped up on his knees, exposing your dripping cunt.

"No matter what, you're going to look at yourself in the mirror, or there will be consequences," he growls into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and biting your earlobe.

"Yes, Coryo," you moan, excitedly biting your lip.

Looking at him through the mirror, you notice his wicked stare. He begins to roll your clit on his fingers steadily, earning a sigh of contentment from you.

He's memorized everything about your body. Each stage of arousal is burned into his brain at this point. It's how he knows you've been touching yourself today.

"How many times did you touch yourself?" He questions, digging his nose into your neck to smell the remnants of your lotion and perfume.

"Two before I left for university, one during lunch, and two when I got back," you admit between moans as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You were late to class because of Coryo's video. Still, your arousal persisted so much that you locked yourself in one of the bathrooms of the university and rubbed your clit till your legs shook with an orgasm. You walked out of the bathroom, ashamed of your behavior, but it got you throughout the rest of the day.

When you got home, you fell on the couch, pressing one of the decorative cushions between your legs. You rocked against it for nearly an hour, edging yourself to give Coriolanus time to get home. The last one was in the shower with the detachable head minutes before he arrived.

"Five times and one in public," he chides with a click of his tongue, "What do I do with you?"

Your confession is music to Coriolanus' ears, but you can't know that. So he delivers five sharp slaps down your spread cunt. He covers the reddening flesh with his hand, putting pressure on it to ease the sting.

"Ow, Coryo," you cry, digging your nails into his thighs where you are barely hanging on.

"You should've come to me. I could've helped you much more than your fingers," he tells you mockingly.

Uncovering your cunt there is a dash of red on your skin. Coriolanus didn't hold back with his slaps. It's hard to explain why, but you like it when he manhandles you like that. He makes you cry just to console you later.

"You're busy," you sniff, hiccuping when he gathers your slick to spread it over the stinging skin.

Coriolanus takes his studies and lab work seriously; you never wish to interrupt him in any way, no matter how many times he reassures you it's okay.

"I'm never too busy for you, darling," he responds, resting his chin on your shoulder. His touch returns to your clit, rubbing it round and round until you're moaning out his name.

Finally, Coriolanus slips his finger into you, giving you the relief you desperately want. Even if it is your pleasure, his fingers are better than yours. They are long and strong and know precisely how to curve to give you the pleasure you seek.

The relief that takes over you is so much that you let your head fall back with your eyes closed. In an instant, the fingers are gone, and another slap is deposited on your sensitive skin.

"Eyes on the mirror," Coriolanus reminds you. He wants you to see how he's the only one that can make you crumble.

His free hand, which had been wrapped like a vice around your waist, comes up to your chest to squeeze your breasts and nipples. His eyes darken as he observes how your supple flesh spills between his fingers.

"Look at how pretty you are," he whispers in your ear as he adds another finger into your dripping cunt.

A sense of bashfulness settles on your chest as you do as he says. You follow his hand as it trails down your sweaty skin, your face and chest flushed because of the heat. He traces your nipples with his fingers, and you watch how they turn hard in response. Next, he touches your stomach, his fingers ghosting your belly button from which he has licked his own cum from.

It's like your body harbors memories of Coriolanus Snow, from the multicolored lovebites in your chest and neck to the thick arousal that coats your thighs. Each one was caused by him, for him.

Sensing your mind is slipping, he lightly taps your thighs, bringing you back to focus on the body he considers so beautiful. He takes his wet fingers out of you and spreads your cunt even farther with them.

He traces your pearl, which is bright red, frustrated from arousal and the constant touching it has endured today. Then, your pussy lips that puff out as blood surges to it.

Coriolanus gathers the drop of slick that hangs from your fleshy pink opening. "See? All beautiful and all mine," he says. Only now does he allow you to turn from the mirror because it's to kiss him.

Remembering why you're in this position, Coriolanus slides two fingers into you, fucking them with precision into your g spot. No more teasing and prolonging.

"It feels so good, Coryo," you whine, holding onto his arm as your hips grind further into his hand.

"It looks good, too," he mutters, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallows his fingers. Not even your nails digging into his arm snaps him away from the pretty sight.

With hooded eyes, you keep looking into the mirror, waiting for the moment Coryo promised you. Coriolanus hand presses down on the spot above your mound. It's the key to make you squirt. His fingers bully your spot more forcefully, feeling your walls clench with an impending orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, C-coryo," you choke out, breathing heavily. It's like an orgasm is coming but so much better than the needy, desperate ones from today. It feels much more fulfilling.

"Relax for me," he prompts, slowing his pace. You're always so fucking tense even as he fucks you senseless.

"Ah, ah, ah," your moans staccato as you near your precipice and tears accumulate in the corner of your eyes.

It's a constant climb where you feel the excitement of nearing the top, and then suddenly, you slide back down. A sudden burst of pleasure consumes you as a gush wets Coryo's fingers and mirror. His fingers whip out and furiously rub your frustrated clit, causing a smaller gush to stream down.

Your mouth is ajar as you gasp, your hands bunching up the fabric of his pants. Your cunt visibly spasms as your orgasm prolongs itself.

"You did it, darling," Coriolanus sweetly says, kissing your cheek as he looks at you adoringly, "How did it feel?"

He touches you all over, spreading the drops of squirt that adorn your thighs. Your legs fall down limply as you relax back onto Coryo. He continues stroking your skin, looking at the beautiful, wet mess he made.

"I-I don't know, there was this just sensation of release like everything left my body," you say between pants as you try and catch your breath.

Coriolanus smirks and hugs you tightly, lost in his own world. It's like the post-orgasmic bliss affected him rather than you.

"Can we try again?" You ask minutes after, feeling the spark reignite by just thinking about the stream of fluid that came out of you.

"Whatever my darling wants," Coriolanus agrees, spanking your ass playfully when you get up from the chair.

You kneel on the floor to pull down his pants and find his leaking cock. Going straight for it, you suck him off like there is no tomorrow, swallowing around him and taking him deep till your nose rubs against his pubic bone.

Coriolanus doesn't allow himself to cum, even if his body screams at him to shoot his load into your warm mouth. Pulling you up from the floor, he pushes you towards the bed. You get on your knees and hands, shaking your ass for him cheekily.

Coriolanus has a feeling that today it will be a quick one. You're both too wound up to prolong this any further. His hand curves over your hip as he pushes his cock through your folds, wetting it. Without a warning, he snaps his hips, stretching your walls.

"Love your cock, Coryo," you moan as he fucks you harshly. "So big and thick and so deep," you mumble, acting cockdrunk.

You bury your head on the sheets, arching your back so your chest presses against the bed as you splutter nonsense. The tension of the day gets to you, and you allow yourself to go dumb on his cock.

"It's all yours, darling," he grunts, gripping your waist to push you back onto his cock. At this point, you're a cocksleeve to him as he chases his release. The sounds of his balls slapping against your clit are loud and obnoxious.

Keeping a steady rhythm, he fucks you until you're fluttering around him again. Coriolanus bends over your back, splaying his hand on your pelvis. He had promised he'd make you squirt again. It works as you drench his cock again, soaking the sheets and his thighs.

"Oh my god," you cry as your legs shake. You would've fallen flat on your face if it hadn't been for Coryo, who holds you up as he continues to push into you.

Tears soak the pillow you're hugging. It's too good. His cock is brushing repeatedly over your spongy spot. You don't want him to stop, ever, but you're so sensitive. It's a push and pull. You want more, but you're unsure if your body is up to it.

In a moment of lucidity, a wave of emotions grabs you and pulls you down. It snaps you out of your trance and hurts your chest. Shame, pleasure, desperation, joy, embarrassment, arousal.

Questions invade your brain. Since when have you been like this, letting yourself be treated this way? How are you not ashamed of yourself? This is not how a lady behaves. You're no better than a whore in a whorehouse. You should be ashamed of yourself.

"Rose!" You cry out with a sob as the shakiness localized in your legs spreads all over your body.

Immediately, Coriolanus stops all movement, startled by the use of the safe word. Your soft cries snap him out of his shock, and he, as gently and carefully as possible, pulls out of you.

Your whole body shakes as you cry, worrying Coriolanus to no end. He questions if he did anything that hurt you but comes up empty-handed.

"Darling, are you okay?" He asks, helping you sit up on the bed. He takes the clean blanket by the end of the bed, covering your body.

"Too-too much. I-I'm sorry," you hiccup, hugging the blanket tighter against you.

Coriolanus carefully respects your private space since he's unsure if you want or need his touch. He sits beside you, though, listening to anything you might need.

Humiliation fills your body. You were the one to ask for more and couldn't handle it, worrying Coryo about something that was not his fault.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry about," he speaks with the softest voice he can muster, "Do you want me to bring you water?"

"Just hold me," you say as more tears trickle down your face.

So, he does. Coriolanus kisses your temple and runs his hand across your back until your sobs settle. He holds you close and whispers reassuring words in your ear.

You desperately want to tell him it's nothing he did. He wasn't being terribly rough or mean. You loved every moment of tonight until your emotions and unwanted thoughts got the best of you.

In your vulnerable state, the pent-up frustration of the day and the negative emotions you kept locked bubbled up and caused a sensory overload. Even now, you can barely speak, trying to regulate your emotions again.

"Don't go," you hiccup, reaching for his hand when Coryo stands from the bed. Terrified, he believes the same things your brain is feeding you.

"I'm not going anywhere, darling. Just looking for our clothes," he says, squeezing your left hand and kissing your knuckles.

Coriolanus grabs his pants from the floor and slips them on. Digging through the drawers, he finds one of his t-shirts and grabs a pair of your underwear. Your comfort is his priority, and he knows how comforting you find wearing his clothes. He helps you put the garments on, wrapping you back up on the blanket.

Leaning back on the pillows, he pulls you towards him, hugging you to his chest. You hug his middle, burying your head in his neck, falling asleep like that.

He stays awake, feeling the puffs of breath on his neck. Coriolanus hand keeps running up and down your back, under your shirt. It works to comfort himself as well.

You've only used the safe word twice, and both times, you had been doing worse things by far. He had understood twice and had been alert in any case. Today took him off guard, and it scared him.

Coryo debates on waking you the following day. He decides to do it to check how you're doing. You can decide if you want to go to university or not. He will walk you there personally if that is what you choose.

He wakes you by running his hand up and down your arm, softly shaking you out of your slumber, "Darling?"

"Mmm," you groan, your eyes fluttering open. He'd kept the curtains closed so they wouldn't bother you.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" Coriolanus asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

You stay silent momentarily, gauging your mental state, "I'm good. Am I running late?" You ask, sitting up on the bed.

"No, it's still early. Want me to walk you to school?" He asks, watching as you get up and head into the bathroom.

"Please?" You ask, turning to look at him before closing the bathroom door.

"Of course," he nods.

"Coryo, I think I know what happened last night," you speak loudly through the door, not a moment later.

"And what's that love?" He asks, standing by the door.

"I got my period," you say simply.

The blood staining your underwear is the reason you lost yourself last night. Your hormones must've been all over the place yesterday. It explains your sudden breakdown and why you were acting like a bitch in heat before that.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He's glad it's just that and nothing he did. He feels calm now as most of his worry is swept away. "I'll go make breakfast," he tells you before he heads out to the kitchen.

His worry is replaced by disappointment in himself. He lost track of your damn period because he was so busy at the lab. He has to share part of the blame. Ever since he started living with you, he noticed those subtle mood changes you got as your period neared and passed through.

First is the neediness, constantly touching him and asking to be touched. You got freakier when you were ovulating. Then there is the bad mood you get whenever he just as breathes the wrong way or places something where it doesn't belong. You try hiding it and holding back your scoffs, but he notices. Lastly, it's the tears. Your emotions are delicate when this time of the month comes around.

Last year, you got your period around the time of The Hunger Games and couldn't watch them. Tears instantly tracked down your face when you usually don't care. Coriolanus had to record them for you to watch later because you wanted to see everything that was implemented, thanks to him.

Because he recognizes how you get, he took it upon himself to make those days more bearable for you. Not to say he tiptoes around you, but he's gentler, more restrained. He tries not to be too mean. Had he known your period was right around the corner, he wouldn't have teased you today or made you wait for it.

He scolds himself as he pieces the puzzle together. That must've been why you took the sleeping pills the other day. You had an emotional day, and your overthinking mind didn't let you sleep.

Sensing he's kicking himself, you hug Coryo's waist from behind as he places the food on the table. "I love you, Coryo," you say sweetly, pressing a kiss on his spine.

Now, this is more in line with your normal, sweet behavior.

Coriolanus turns around in your embrace, hugging your shoulders and pulling you tight against him, kissing your hairline. "I love you so damn much," he speaks into your hair. "You had me worried last night," he admits, kissing your lips slowly before he lets you go.

"I don't know what happened. One moment, I was alright, and the next…well, you know," you shrug, sitting on the chair Coryo pulls out for you.

"Your emotions got the best of you. I know how that feels," Coriolanus nods, understanding better than anyone how it feels to lose yourself in the moment.

That day in the forest of District 12 will forever haunt him.

There we go! That was the part 2 I promised you! It took an unexpected turn but it felt right to me. Sorry it couldn't be kinkier :(

If you'd like to read more of this pairing you can also read The Mentor. It's a small prequel to this one shot set around three years back when they started dating. That being said The Mentor Pt. 2 is FILTHY.

If you liked it don't hesitate to let me know!

#ifanfiction #smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction

686 notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 10 months

Text

Sweet like Cherry – Chapter 2

Miles Quaritch x female human reader

Words: 6.5k

Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Warnings: explicit smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, bullying, teasing, sexual tension, virginity, fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, nudes, corruption kink, slight praise and degradation / humiliation, daddy issues, age difference, authority kink, alcohol consumption, edging

Notes: I wrote this during the worst writers block ever, so I feel like there’s still so much left unsaid in this chapter, ugh. Whatever. I still hope you guys enjoy it! Also, please don’t get confused but I’ve decided to switch the pov between Miles and Cherry every other chapter so the story can be seen through the eyes of both of them.

The first time you could remember being called a nerd it had been as an insult. Of course.

The term exactly used was ‘stupid nerd’ after you had refused to give the answers to a biology test to the rest of the class in highschool. You could handle being called names, it wasn't that much of a big deal. In fact, you were a nerd. There was no way around it. No matter how many times you insisted you had been to any party’s on the weekends instead of studying all night long or that you had made out with that definitely-not-imaginary-boyfriend after school, you were and you would always be a massive nerd.

Nothing to be ashamed of, honestly. It’s what had gotten you this job, after all.

Driven to succeed starting from a young age, you had excelled academically, earning top grades and winning numerous awards. You‘ve always been particularly interested in science and botanic, and even pursued a degree at a prestigious university.

After graduation, you set your sights on this rare opportunity to work at a highly coveted research lab, one that only a handful of people in the world had ever been invited to join. Over the years, you worked tirelessly, taking on increasingly complex projects and earning the respect of colleagues and superiors.

Spending long hours studying, researching and practicing your skills was the reason why you ended up being one of the candidates that were considered for this job. And when the time came to apply, you submitted a flawless application that showcased your brilliance and dedication.

Yes, you were a nerd. But in the end, you had beat out hundreds of other highly qualified applicants for the chance to be send to Pandora, working for the RDA‘s botanical scientific team.

So, it wasn't like you didn't like the word. The only issue was, that it brought back some unpleasant memories you thought that a twenty-five year old adult should have already been over.

But the first time someone on Pandora had called you a nerd, you didn't come back to that memory. No, your mind was entirely too focused on taking in the sight and presence in front of you to even have time to go back to that place, back to the time in school when people thought intelligence was a reason to bully.

The main cafeteria was as cramped as usual, soldiers as well as scientists taking in their meals in the spacious hall. It was well-lit and ventilated, with long tables and benches filling the room that almost reminded you of the cafeteria at your old university back on earth.

The food options are diverse, thankfully. Ranging from traditional earth cuisine to exotic dishes from Pandora. The atmosphere was bustling, with conversations and debates taking place between colleagues, while others sat in silence, lost in thought. Despite their differences, everyone seemed to be united in their shared mission on Pandora, which was something you realized right after your arrival on this planet a couple of months ago. It made you feel like you finally belonged somewhere.

Poking around in what looked like pasta, but was actually some green-yellowish-vegetable, you absently listened to your coworkers wild discussion about a topic that seemed pretty much endless to you.

Maggie‘s latest success of exchanging phone numbers with Phil from floor 3.G. A computer engineer and now basically the talk of the town. The town being you and a couple of female coworkers your age that often shared lunch together, but otherwise barely interacted if it wasn’t work related.

Apparently, it was a rather big deal for Maggie to finally get into Phil’s pants, because, and I quote, "it’s been forever" and "I almost feel like I will revert into a virgin back again if I don’t get laid anytime soon" followed by cheerful laughter and agreement of the whole group.

It was weird, you thought, how people act as though not getting laid is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person. You, honest to god, could not care less whether or not you will have sex in the next century, much less the next couple of years.

Deciding that you’ve heard enough nonsense for the day, you packed up your lunch and excused yourself with a polite smile.

Lost in thought, your feet tapped on the floor as you waited for the elevator doors to open, so you could travel up to the main lab and continue your work in peace.

Sure, the other scientists were nice and under other circumstances you would maybe even consider them as more than just coworkers, you think to yourself. But you weren’t here to make friends.

The doors then slide open with a ding, cutting off your train of thoughts before your eyes fall on the wall of blue muscles and green cargo pants that were about to exit the elevator, stopping yourself just in time before you ran into them.

These must be the recombinant soldiers all of bridgehead city was talking about lately, you thought. They looked like Na‘vi, almost identical like the ones you’ve studied in books and seen on photos, when the head of security advised you and the others on your very first day on Pandora. You knew Na‘vi were inhumanly tall, but these guys were god damn trees! You had to crane your neck all the way up to even look at their faces.

Your eyes fell on the soldier standing more in the front than the others, spine straight and chest puffed out like a leader. His skins was a midnight blue, with faint, bioluminescence dots all over his body, barely visible in the bright daylight. His eyes immediately landed on you as well, bright like stars and boring through your very soul, like you were an insect that landed on his windshield.

You were so lost in your admiration of the foreign view in front of you, that your feet decided to grow roots underneath your soles, instead of showing proper etiquette and stepping aside.

"Move it, nerd", the recom suddenly said, his voice low and thick and more like a deep, annoyed grumble than anything else. The soldiers behind him begin to chuckle as you quickly scrambled to the side so they could finally pass. Even though he was quite tall, he seemed to move lithe and with grace. Silent, even with heavy combat boots and packed full of military gear. His tail gently swaying behind his back and ears laying flat against his head, he reminded you of a cat.

A big, blue cat.

"At least these damn science pukes never change", you heard the same blue soldier say to his companions before the elevator doors closed right in front of your face, leaving you alone with the reflection of your dumbstruck expression in the silvery reflection.

Colonel Miles Quaritch was the one you’ve crossed paths with on this day. The one who’d called you a nerd, followed by the extremely creative term 'science puke'. Of course you had heard about him, heard his stories, told by soldiers and scientists like he was some kind of myth or legend. And maybe he was.

Until this day, you still don’t know what exactly it was, that made him so incredibly fascinating to you. At first you thought, that maybe you were just mesmerized by the first Na‘vi-like humanoid you had seen in person. They were pretty, no doubt. Exotic. But then again, you weren’t really interested in any of the other recoms.

It was just him.

Cold logic told you that the most sensible thing to do right now was forget about him.

Miles Quaritch was a man of authority. He wasn’t just a guy, like Phil from floor 3.G was just a guy. Not just any man on this moon, not just any man in his mid twenties that you should consider more appropriate and fitting for a woman like you.

So maybe it was the fact that he was older. Old enough that if you would dare to say it out loud, the thought that you think of him as attractive, people would throw concerning looks at you and maybe even scrunch their noses in disgust. Old enough, it would send your mother into a coma.

There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the dangerous man that Quaritch was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this.

This being the pounding in your chest whenever you thought about the Miles Quaritch being the one to pop your cherry. A thought that had never crossed your mind before, not in all of your twenty five years of living, and not with any other man you’ve met before.

Since that day, you kept seeing him and his squad almost daily. Usually, it was just the two of you walking past each other in the hallway, him entering the cafeteria just as you left or watching him get on a samson helicopter from the giant floor-to-ceiling window of the upper laboratory. He definitely was a busy man, never lowering his gaze enough to acknowledge you or literally any other human.

You might laugh if you weren’t feeling so…conflicted, right now. Honestly, how the fuck are you supposed to keep going about your business as usual after this? Making you feel the way he does and then having the nerve, the audacity, to pretend like he hadn’t just thrown your whole world for a loop?

And that’s the painful realization that finally hit you on this tuesday night, after a hot bath with a side of one or two glasses of wine. Okay, maybe three.

To him, you were just one of the many unimportant nerds on this stupid moon, blending into the background like you were part of the interior design.

The third— no, actually it was the fourth glass of wine that you emptied with a final, big gulp. It had a sharp flavor that made you grimace when you were still at your first glass and burned your nasal passages in a similar way to horseradish. But now it was bearable. It’s not like you had any other choice than to drink this overly expensive pandorian wine, made from grapes that were sown and reaped on the soil that was soon to be the new home of mankind. Definitely not worth the price of thirty bucks for a bottle, though.

Turning around in your bed, you sat the glass down on your nightstand. Glancing around, your eyes fell upon the polaroid camera, your camera, perched on the chair by the small wooden desk. Memories come flooding back as you looked at it, reminding you of home and the countless moments captured by the instant camera.

You could almost hear the sound of the shutter and the whirring of the film as it developed. A sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember the familiar faces and places immortalized by it. For a brief moment, you feel as though you had transported back to your childhood home, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of your family. It was a gift, the old thing. Meant to capture photos of the new world, friends and moments with a loved one. Someone your family, and maybe deep down even yourself, were hoping you would finally find here.

With a sigh, you shook your head as if that would shake off those thoughts. But the harm’s already been done and your interest has already been piqued.

The only guy in this city, on this damn moon, that you were maybe just a teeny-tiny bit interested in, would most definitely never notice that you even exist. You were certain that even if he magically decided to do so, he wouldn’t even find you attractive, let alone interesting enough that you would truly capture his attention for more than two minutes. Your confidence was further undermined by your tendency to overthink and second-guess yourself, making you feel even more inadequate.

If only there was a way for him to acknowledge your existence, to know that there was someone who’s interested in him, without the further embarrassment and humiliation of him knowing who exactly you are and having to stand in front of this giant blue man, and possibly his whole squad too, and confess whatever feelings you harbored for him. Feelings you couldn’t really put a name on just yet.

May it be through the fifth glass of wine and the fact that drinking always lead you to things that never turned out good -the main reason why you thought you had quit drinking at all- or call it faith, but somehow your gaze lands on the little polaroid camera once again. God, it must’ve really been the fucking alcohol screwing with your brain, because there was no way you, of all people, was actually thinking about this.

A man like Colonel Miles Quaritch must’ve been hard to impress. He wasn’t a man of many words, so anonymous love letters wouldn’t do. But he was still a man after all, and if there was one thing you’ve learned in these past couple of weeks (thank you, Maggie), then it was the fact that men were obsessed with the female body and seeing them pop up on their screens at 3am.

But that would require you getting your hands on either his phone number, which you doubted even exists, or his work email, that was probably supervised by someone. A man like Quaritch that was so important to the whole of Bridgehead city really wasn’t an easy target when it came to anonymous messages, let alone nudes that were meant for his eyes only. Which left you with one choice only.

It had to be the old fashioned way.

Being reckless surely didn’t get you into this career path. Actually, it was the complete opposite.

Usually, you were rather cautious and thoughtful in your actions and decisions. You take the time to weigh the risks and benefits of a situation before making a choice, prioritize safety and responsibility over immediate gratification.

Planning ahead and taking steps to mitigate potential risks, rather than rushing headlong into a situation without considering the consequences was more like you.

While you may have not always been the most spontaneous or adventurous type of person, your friends- okay scratch that, your coworkers respected you for your level-headedness and reliability, your sense of conscientiousness and a desire to act in a responsible and considered way.

You didn’t spend half your life being teased as prudent, too careful and deliberate, just to now act like a brainless, horny teenager. Yet here you where, at exactly four-thirty in the morning, sliding a set of carefully chosen polaroids under the gap of Quaritch‘s door.

By now, you knew his daily routines, knew his busy schedule by heart. When he was gone to workout with the rest his squad, knew when he was at the cafeteria and when he was away for a mission. Still, you couldn’t help but glance both ways, making sure the hallway was empty, before you slid them under his door and made a run for it like a school girl placing chocolate on her crush’s desk on Valentine’s Day.

You blamed it on the adrenaline pumping through your veins that day, and also the days after that, but you found yourself laying in bed with a hand buried between your thighs quite more often than usual. Not that you would actually call yourself a voyeur, but there was just something about knowing Quaritch had now officially seen you naked that did something to you.

Miles Quaritch didn't– wouldn't ever touch you, you knew that, was well aware of that even if it pained you. But then again, nobody ever said you couldn't take a deep, shaky breath, slip a hand beneath the waistband of your pyjama pants, and shut your eyes as you touched yourself, imagining it was him touching you, instead. There was no harm in that, really. And you even came to the conclusion that you would be perfectly fine to continue living like that.

In those rare moments you’ve been seeing him during lunch break or the split seconds of passing each other in the hallway, you didn’t note a significant change in his mannerisms. Not towards you or literally anyone else. However, the tension in his shoulders seemed to have loosened up the past couple of days. Not by much, but enough for someone like you to notice. Which could mean two things. One, he still hadn’t figured out that the woman on these anonymous, but very explicit, polaroid photos was you. And two, he didn’t mind receiving them.

This theory was surprisingly proven right just a couple of weeks later.

Unfortunately, in this moment, you weren't as excited about those news as you thought you would be. If anything, you felt like a child getting caught with a hand stuck in the cookie jar, while balancing on a chair that only stood on one leg to reach the top of the fridge.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. If that ain’t my sweet little cherry…"

With trembling fingers, you entered the pass code to your room, the door unlocking with a familiar click to reveal a dimly lit bedroom.

You absently cursed yourself for not making the bed before you had left, too busy rushing out and get to the Colonels room for your daily delivery, hoping he wasn’t back from his mission yet. Luck definitely wasn’t on your side today.

After a long moment of standing motionless in the doorway, you suddenly felt a large palm on your lower back, gentle, yet firmly pushing you further into the room. Your shoulders begin to tense up at the thought of who was standing right behind you, crouching to even fit through the door.

The floor under his heavy combat boots creaked as the Colonel followed you, otherwise silent as a cat. You dared to glance over your shoulder just once, looking back to find him scanning your room like he was entering dangerous territory. His golden eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark, and it send goosebumps prickling over your skin when they landed on you.

Your room wasn’t particularly big, so it only took three or four steps for you to reach the center of it, coming to an halt right in front of your bed before you slowly turned around to face him. You clenched and unclenched your hands into fists at your sides, feeling your fingernails dig into sweaty palms.

Your heart was still racing as Quaritch eyed you up and down. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you mentally prepared yourself for the consequences that awaited you, expecting that you would inevitably face a scolding for your actions.

Your lips parted to speak, yet his voice was quicker to slice through the thick tension in the air.

"Show me", was all he said, arms crossing over his board chest, like a teacher expecting to hear a step by step explanation on how you came up with the answer to a question that was way out of your brand of knowledge.

"W-What?"

The Colonel tsks, but he doesn’t sound all too angry. If anything, he sounds amused. Like this was a game to him, and it made you feel so much smaller next to him than you already were. "How you do it", he chuckled lowly, "Show me how you took these photos, cherry."

His words left you speechless. You could physically feel how your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and words failed to find their way past the knot in your throat. In all honesty, you expected thing to take a different turn here.

The prompting raise of his eyebrows was all that it took for you to plop down onto the edge of your bed.

There was this strange, pulsing sensation in your underwear, hot and insistent— almost an ache, as you stared up at Quaritch with wide eyes.

"Where do you usually put the camera?", he asks ever so nonchalantly, looking around briefly before his eyes bore into yours again and you force yourself to swallow around the lump in your throat.

"There", you point to a chair next to the table in front of your bed. "It has an automatic shutter. Goes off every couple of minutes so I don’t… h-have to get up every time."

The Colonel nods attentively, and then he moves to where you point, one long stride before he sits down right there on the chair. It’s comically small underneath him, his thick thighs spread wide as he leans back and the seat creaks underneath his weight.

"Go on", he urges, his hand gesturing in the air before it comes to rest at this thigh. "Take off your clothes."

A minute passes, and this is too strange for you to be comfortable with. He couldn’t except you to strip down right here, right in front of him. Not with him just sitting there, watching.

You glanced down at yourself with a frown, subconsciously biting your bottom lip in thought.

You never used to think much about how you looked to others. It’s not that you didn’t care about your own body. You cared about hygiene, about a well-groomed appearance. But you had little to no concept of your own attractiveness.

Seeing that you hadn’t moved to obey his command, the Colonel shook his head with another tsk.

"C‘mere", he then said with a sigh, reaching out with his free hand and then grabbed your wrist as soon as you got up from your position, jerking you closer. You swallowed nervously, stumbling and lifting your other hand, bracing yourself against his chest. You blushed the moment you realized the sudden closeness and dropped your hand, trying to step away, but a firm hand on the backside of your thigh wouldn't let you.

"Humor me, cherry", he said, his hands running up and down your thighs, big enough to almost close entirely around them. "I didn’t recall you as being so shy when I’ve got all these photos from you. That was you, right?"

His hands moved up higher, his palms gliding over the soft swell of your ass, reaching for the zipper of your pencil skirt. All hair on your body stood up straight at the sound of your zipper being pulled down.

"Yes, sir", you breathed softly. The Colonel hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband of your skirt, slowly pulling the black fabric down and over your legs. He hums softly as his eyes catch sight of your lace panties, his thumb gently running over the fabric. For a second, your breath hitches and you think he would pull them down next, but then his hands move further up, apparently saving this part for the grand finale. Although they’re big and you expect his fingers to work rather clumsily with the extremely small buttons of your blouse, he opens them swiftly and with dexterity.

The slide down of your sleeves over your shoulders and arms is slow, almost sensually. You shiver once the cold air of the room hits your bare skin. You don’t even know when and how he had opened the clasp of your bra, and it’s only when he makes you lift your arms a little to get it off, that you realize you’re almost completely bare before him now.

The urge to cover your chest overcomes you suddenly, but his hands move faster, snatching your wrists to keep them at your sides. With a warning squeeze, he lets go of them then, in order to let them roam over your body, to admire what was hidden from his sight. Unblemished skin, perky nipples, the rapid rise and fall of your chest synced to your breathing, each one precious, finite. Quaritch’s hand is warm when it runs up your stomach to cup a breast, giving an experimental squeeze that makes you bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard, to stifle a whimper. You should feel shame, you think, as you arch against the warmth of his palm. His thumb brushes over a nipple and your breathing stutters, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips at that.

"This your first time, ain’t it?"

You swallow hard at the question, heart skittering in your chest, as you try to decide whether to put your focus on the feeling of his hand sliding down your waist or figuring out the answer to his questions.

With his other hand, the Colonel traces the outline of your tattoo, his gaze so intense and focused on the fine, red lines, that your breathing soon turns into shallow pants of air. You felt hot. Too hot, as you slowly become aware of the situation you were in.

His hand slides further down your side, along your hips, down to the backside of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. This time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper from escaping. Immediately, your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Quaritch smiles at that, wickedly amused. "You're not very good at hiding it. So twitchy and scared. Bit off a bit more than you could chew, hm?"

There came no response from you, besides the shakily exhale of a breath you didn’t realize you were even holding and the red flush of your face.

Quaritch chuckles softly and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, feel it pulsating between your legs.

"Are you into that kind of stuff? Did it get you wet?", he asks with the tilt of his head, "Got all hot and bothered giving me these polaroids?"

The sight of his half lidded eyes staring at you sends a thrill crackling down your spine, wild and breathless. Heat pools in your stomach in a way that you’ve never let yourself get so close to before, the very height of arousal. So different from all the times you had touched yourself.

"Let’s see…", Quaritch murmurs with a sharp grin, not even waiting for an answer as he adverts his gaze further down. And then, you feel his hands on your waist again, pulling at the soft fabric of your lace panties– down, down, down, until they pool at your ankles.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, don’t want to see his face as he stares right at your most private parts. Too embarrassed, you just glance down on yourself, too.

"Oh, it did! Look at that", the Colonel exclaimed with a chuckle, and your eyes follow his, to where a wet patch had formed on your underwear. "You really are something, aren’t you? Got myself a little exhibitionist, huh?"

Words were still caught up in your throat, so all you could manage to do in place of a verbal response, was look back at him with a flustered face. He clearly meant to tease you, maybe even humiliate you, so why did his words turn you on so much? Your thighs almost automatically pressed together in desperate need for friction.

Quaritch’s hands are large and rough, fingers long and thick. Perfect and so incredibly warm against the skin of your lower abdomen as he slides a single digit between your thighs. His knuckle brushes against your clit, forcing a breathy moan through your lips as he drags his finger back and forth between your folds. His other hand goes tight around your hip, fingertips digging into your inked flesh in an effort to keep you right there, sensing how your knees begin to buckle just from a simple touch like this.

"You’re dripping", he coos, pulling his finger back up for you to see. "Look, that cute little pussy‘s getting wet so easily."

Nervously biting the inside of your cheek, you lock your eyes on his digits, glistening in arousal, and the sight makes more wetness pool between your thighs.

"Now show me", Quaritch all but orders, "Show me how you made these photos. I want to see you touch yourself for me, cherry."

The given nickname he used on you made you blush. The first time you head him use it, earlier, you thought you might have misheard. But now you finally realize that he had really called you that. Cherry. Clearly an innuendo to your tattoo.

Nodding, you step back until your heels touch the edge of your bed and then settle to sit right there. It felt strange, being watched like that. Quaritch leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable for the show that he was hoping you would soon put on for him.

With a shaking breath, you leaned back until you laid flat against the soft mattress. Angling your legs up, you can’t bring yourself to spread them right away. Instead, you close your eyes and imagine yourself alone in your room. It’s easier to get yourself in the mood without the thought of his eyes on your naked form, watching so intensely.

In your head, you try to remember what to do. It wasn’t like you haven’t already done this before, like you didn’t know how.

There was no denying that you liked to touch yourself, late at night when you were quite sure everyone was fast asleep. You‘ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.

So, it wasn’t like you didn’t know what to do. It was just, that this was the first time someone was there to watch you doing it, and it felt like your brain was close to a short circuit.

Swallowing down the nervousness as best as you could, you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and down between your legs.

As you part them, ever so slowly, you hear Quaritch groan in approval. Still, you try to ignore it, focusing on the warmth of your skin instead, feeling your own arousal as you glide two finger through your folds.

Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core — allow it, and welcome it.

The slick, wet feeling gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.

"Don’t you dare cover your mouth." The Colonels voice makes you clench, which causes you to inhale sharply. "I want to hear you."

It takes every ounce of confidence you had left in yourself, to finally pry your eyes open and look at him from your current position, while you slowly lowered the hand from your face.

Quaritch was still sitting there, on his seat across the bed, unmoving. His irises had turned into slits, reminding you of a cat when it’s hunting a mouse. A metaphor that couldn’t have been more fitting.

With his thighs spread and his hands lazily resting on top of them, you actually found it quite surprising that he wasn’t… touching himself, too. Deep down, you were probably hoping he would do so. Were even a tad disappointed that he didn’t.

You could clearly see the bulge under his tactical cargo pants, could only imagine the way his cock must throb underneath the restriction of the fabric, and your mouth begins to water as your minds eye provides you with vivid images of him in all his glory. You wondered what he might look like. Did the color match the rest of skin? Did he had stripes and freckles?

Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hip buck up against your own hands.

"Wanna know what I’ve been wondering?", Quaritch asks and it takes you a second in the haze of your mind, to proceed what he had just said.

You nod, once.

"I‘ve been wondering what you were thinking about while taking all these dirty pictures for me."

You’ve never thought hearing someone’s voice would turn you on this much, but here you were, dipping your middle and ring fingers past your tight entrance, gently but firmly making their presence feel inside. They’re surrounded by that slick, growing warm feeling as you press them in further, just barely curling them up. It’s tight, too tight, you’re afraid you‘ll hurt yourself if you add another.

You hear him chuckle, low and deep, as you exhale shakily. Then his eyes travel lower, pointing to the space between your thighs, were two of your digits were now buried deep, "What were you thinking while you stuffed those pretty fingers into your cute little cunt, huh?"

It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow your slippery fingers to caress the spot you‘ve been seeking.

"You. I was…", you swallow thickly, "thinking about you."

"Bit more specific, cherry."

More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. His words clearly meant to tease, sent your heart a flutter, legs flexing and bending, hips pressing into the mattress, back arching as your head once again dips back and the ministrations of your fingers find a sensual rhythm.

You curl them up, dragging them along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, gasping and panting, "I was imagining what you would do with my photos. If– If you’d like them. Was thinking about you… jerking off to them, t-too."

"S‘that so?", the Colonel snickers. You hear the sound of fabric, rough hands running up and down muscular thighs, a chair creaking again, as if he repositioned himself. "Well, you’d be more than happy to hear that I did have a good time with these photos then."

Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.

"F-Fuck", you gasp, fingers speeding up their pace, faint squelching sounds reaching your ears and distantly, you feel your own slick run down the curve of your ass, soaking the sheets below.

"Language", Quaritch hisses and your hips rise as if trying to chase the source of his voice.

"S-Sorry, sir", you all but moan, "It’s just- I‘m close, so close!"

"Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?"

You can only nod your head at that, face flushed and teeth biting into your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning entirely too loud, embarrassing you further than you already were. God, you were a mess. You didn’t know if it was truly as humiliating as it felt, to be bought to the edge within minutes, just from touching yourself in his presence.

The sound of your whines and moans start to increase in volume the more pressure you put on your clit, moving a finger over that little bundle of pleasure in fast, tight circles.

You’re so close. So, so close. Almost there, just a little more. More. More. More. Right there—

But then the sound of a voice, a voice of sheer authority curses through your entire being, haltering your movements and slowing them down as if he had a firm grip on your wrist with his words alone.

"Didn’t recall giving you permission, though. Try again."

With a sound somewhere between a frustrated groan and a high pitched whine, you begin to chant pleas like they are prayers, "May I cum? May I please cum, sir? Please, please, please!"

You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace again, thrusting them faster with every word, every plea, until tears begin to prick and the corner of your eyes and your back arches off the bed, twisting and trembling from holding it in. It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for him to pull the right thread and help you to your release.

You’re right on the edge, right there. Hell, you‘d been on edge for the last couple of months. The moment Miles Quaritch had entered your life, you had been on edge, and today might just be the day everything goes to hell.

"Good girl", Quaritch purrs, the sound coming from deep within his chest, so full of satisfaction as he finally granted you the permission to, "Go ahead then. Come for me, cherry."

The gasp hadn’t even fully left your throat and you were a little more than just a trembling, incoherent mess by the time you came, clamping down around your fingers and pushing them in as deep as they could physically reach.

The squelching sounds your orgasm coaxed out from between your thighs filled your own ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of blood rushing to your head from holding your breath until the first wave of electricity shocked through every fibre of your being.

Then, the blissful sensations of sexual gratification engulfed you. You felt the pulse of your throbbing clit right underneath your fingertips, velvety-like walls tightening around your digits in pulsating waves, intensifying the sensation that dared to consume you whole.

For a timeless moment, there was nothing but pure, unadulterated bliss, with stars dancing behind your eyelids and a sound close to the static white noise of an old tv in your ears, before all your sensibilities gradually returned to you like a balloon gently floating back down to earth. Your whole body was buzzing in the afterglow of your orgasm, so intense it surprised you that this was all done by yourself. The internal buzzing seemed to be loud enough for you to overhear the distant sound of a door, your door, closing shut.

You didn’t even notice how tightly you had squeezed your eyes shut, until you slowly opened them again.

As your shaky, thrilled body slowly rises and you prop yourself up on your elbows, it finally clicks within your mind that you’re alone. You blink a few times, glancing at the empty seat in front of your bed.

He’s gone.

He had left, the man that was just there, the man that had been staring at you, watching you this entire time, like you were a sample in a laboratory for him to analyse, an experiment that he wasn’t sure turned out quite right. But his eyes, his eyes that were looking at you so intensely, had been… there had been something. There was something in them, a spark that you surely didn’t just imagined. Sometimes you couldn’t quite put a name on just yet.

Miles Quaritch may be an asshole, but he didn’t just play with you for the fun of it, watched you come undone in your room, on your bed, your safe space, with your legs spread wide like you would do that for just anyone and then leave.

But he did.

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vcill · 1 year

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✧🩷 Good Girl 🩷✧

200 follower special <3 I love y'all sm ♡

Diavolo →

Adjusting to RAD is never easy, with so many exams, having to deal with the demon brothers, baby knows how you feel and knows how stressed and pent you are.

Tell him all about how Mammon and Levi almost burnt down the science lab, and how he would've been able to put it out by how much he's making you squirt.

Angry that Satan got a higher score than you on a test? Take your anger out on him. Squeeze your thighs on his head, suffocate him and make sure he ain't breathing.

Uh oh! What's that tone you used towards the future king? That's not good at all. Don't worry, he'll fuck the sense back into you. A nice apology while fucking you still sounds perfect.

Him fucking and stuffing you so full that you forgot why you even had an attitude to begin with. Apologies being nothing but moan and whimpers while begging him to ruin you. ♡

Him telling you that you did such a good job today, such a good girl for him. Taking him all and not complaining. Draining him dry and making you soaked and full is the best thing a good girl could ever receive .

Barbatos →

He only ever wants the best for you, so failing a test or being late to class isn't gonna make him mad at you.

Good girls know how to study, keep track of their test, when to fall asleep at a good time and not miss school. So really, you've been really bad. But owning up to your mistakes makes it almost better.

Studying for a math test should be easy as you count how many times you've both came. No, it wasn't 5, it was 8. Looks like you guys have to start over. Nope, him eating you out and fucking you is two different things! You don't add those together.

Unless you wanna be there all night, you better start learning.

Falling asleep and missing class? Mm mm. Go ahead and work yourself on his cock while he sits there an does nothing, you need to build your stamina after all. Surprise fuck when you're asleep? Need to always be aware of your surroundings, no excuse for letting your guard down.

Soon enough, you'll learn. You remember how many orgasms you've had, know how to keep working his cock without getting tired, and to properly prep yourself when it's time to get fucked by his cock at night.

Like a good girl, you learn how to do what you're told and be the perfect little fucktoy for the perfect butler.

Solomon →

Being his sweet little apprentice, you'll gladly help in anything he might need. For example, he recently learned a new spell and needed a T̶e̶s̶t̶ s̶u̶b̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ volunteer. Of course, you willing took the part, not even asking what the spell is.

Soon enough, you learn. You feel hot, moist, and slightly dizzy. But most of all, you want dick. Sorcerer dick matter of fact. Looks like the spell works on anyone in the room, cause all Solomon wanted was that phat pussy.

Being railed on one of the desk in the room wasn't on your list today, but you're not complaining. Solomon using all his force and knocking the air out of you as he hits the spot you know and love. Watching your body jiggles from his thrust, drool drip for your cunt and mouth.

Oh this spell is really good. So good, maybe he should cast another, if it's okay with you of course. Your moaning is more then enough consent to proceed, as soon as he casted this one, you both felt so sensitive. His hand on your thighs making your pussy drip even more. Your nails scratching his back made him want to burst.

Ok ok, one more. Be a good girl and let him do his thing, alright? You can take some more. The aching in your legs seem to disappear as your mind goes blank, only thing you can think about is Solomon Solomon Solomon. All you want is him to fill you up and keep you feel. Keep milking him, make sure he can never fill back up again.

You both are so overstimulated but don't give a fuck, maybe this time you also cast a spell which makes both of you whine like crazy. Look at you learning to cast spells just like him, such a good girl you are.

Simeon →

Simeon thinks you're always so good to him. Doing everything as you should, eating your breakfast, brushing your teeth, eating a good meal. What more can he ask?

Good girl deserve the best of course, go ahead and relax as he sucks that tasty pussy of yours. Continue doing your home work while he works his fingers inside of you. Don't worry about the mess your making, he'll clean it right up as long as you keep squirting for him.

How you take care of him when he's stressed, taking his cock whole while drool drips from your mouth. The little tears in your eyes look so beautiful as he makes you choke on it. Such a good girl taking him all! Want him to fuck you now? I bet you do! ♡

He only wants to do what you want him to do. You want him to move? How hard? Where do you want him to hit it? There? That feels good? I'm sure it does.

But he can't spoil you too much. You only get what you earned. You really think you're so slick adding on to the things you did today. You answered a question correctly in class, so you deserve to be fucked one more time. Better hope he doesn't figure out you lied about a few things. Good girls don't lie, rightttt?

When you finish, he lays beside you, telling you how pretty his baby girl is. Asking you if you can do it again tomorrow and how you better promise that you will. His good girl always keeps her promises!

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tarjapearce · 4 months

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Crimson Crown (Pt. 8)

Cover made by the amazing @pinkiemme ~

WARNING: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mild fluff, Angst, canon character death, violence, graphic depictions of violence, heartbreak, mild depictions of mental breakdowns, relationship setbacks, Dark Miguel.

Summary: You meet Dana.

A/N: Yeh, I'm nervous about this one jsksj. Hope you like ❤️. Dana's outfit inspired in this

The graying skies above prevented the sun's warmth to reach your window and your body. Stony floor colder than usual, just like your chambers.

A distant and far rumble echoed in the sky, probably a stray island would suffer the drench, after all, weather in Arachne varied depending on it's mood.

The light filtering through your window was dim, gloomy, like a tragedy happened somewhere and the sky preferred to mourn elsewhere.

But the thought of the king and the previous events made your heart warm, shimmy with joy and ease. Some progress at last.

Your eyes closed at the sudden image of him. His smile was captivating, his touch so gentle and knowing that only you had achieved the historical event of luring him out the castle to rest, made your chest swell in pride.

You didn't waste time into writing a new entry in your diary, it had been a while since you scribbled your memories and main events within the castle. Too focused in enjoying the king's company and blooming affection.

An excited novice was nothing compared to how your head felt. Despite the sky's blue mood, yours were in high spirits. You'd start your first ever lessons with your new students back in the lab. Your knowledge on Arachne's medicine would also be put to test.

After having your fill of writing, you got ready for the day. A quick and simple breakfast was brought and you ate, to then leave for your lab.

People greeted your way, bowed or gave a quick smile before entering your favorite play room. As usual, the kettle was put to boil, some roses were minced along rosemary.

While the water boiled, you prepared the station by organizing the canisters, preparing the herbs and ingredients ahead you'd be using. A smile crept in your lips at the familiriaty of the situation.

It was exactly like home where you'd prepare everything ahead to welcome the new students of the Thelerian Medicine Academy. Even though the Queen was the main master, you also taught the basics, but eventually, you earned your title as medical master with own merits.

Surgeries were delicate, and even though not many could be saved, your heart rested knowing that you had tried your best in making the patient's last moments as comfortable as possible.

Thoughts however were interrupted by the heavy steps and armor clinking you knew by heart at this point. Heartbeats increased tenfold as he was now next to you, with a pleased smile at seeing the class being prepared

"Good morning, Princesa."

The fragrant smell of the tea tickled his nose, you poured two cups and offered one to him, just like with Peter.

"Good morning, my lord. Here."

Miguel took the cup with no hesitation, eyed the liquid and he drank the tea before you could even add honey to it. But it also taught you a little thing from him. He wasn't much of a sweet tooth.

"What was that?"

"A drink to give you an energy boost."

His nose flared an airy chuckle while putting the cup on the table and take a good look at you.

"Join me at lunch."

One of your brows quirked and he cleared his throat, "Please."

"Of course."

With a smile you lit the flame from a canister as he watched your every move.

"Any dish you'd like to indulge?"

"That fish stew was tasty. Would it be too capricious of me to ask for more potatos in it?"

Miguel could only soften his smile at the simple petition.

"I'll take my guess and say you'd like some tarts for dessert."

You gave the pestle and the mortar to him while adding some herbs in the stony recipient, urging him to try his grinding skills.

"You're not wrong. Have you drank your daily dosis of caffeine yet?"

It pleased him greatly to see you were as observant as he was.

"Just did, yeah."

"Good"

A bashful smile spreaded through your lips as you took his hand to help him hold the pestle correctly.

"Like that. Keep going."

"Im not a complete useless on this, you know?" A playful smile came on your lips as one of your hands rested in his bicep.

"Never thought of it, my lord."

"Please, call me Miguel."

"I'm still getting used to call you such ways."

He could feel the warmth irradiating from your body as you grabbed the leather gloves in front of him. Miguel stopped grinding to take a glimpse of you. Eyes raking the slope of your jaw, your neck but they returned for the lips. A little rouge tainted on them.

He swallowed and finished grinding the herbs to a pulp. There was a throat rasping that had you both turning heads towards the entrance. It was Jessica, mustering all her strenght to not smirk at what she had been witnessing for the past minutes.

"The apprentices are here, your highness."

Jessica bowed and let the group in, a total of eight were under your command. None of them passing the seventeens. Four girls and four boys, ready to start their lessons.

All of them bowed upon seeing Miguel and you.

" They've been carefully selected to be under your wing, Princesa. I trust they'll seize the chance."

A subtle Do not disappoint me from Miguel. He took your hand and kissed the back of your palm, earning a coy smile from the girls watching.

"I'll see you at lunch."

"I'll be there, Miguel."

His heart skipped a beat or two before disappearing with a Jessica following him, trying her absolute best to not laugh at his scowling and subtle flushed cheeks.

"Shut up."

Jessica could only giggle to herself, pushing the tease a bit too far before she cleared her throat.

"Of course, Miguel."

The king just gave a vexed grunt as his eyes rolled to a side. Peter greeted him on the way, ready to guard your morning.

The lessons had advanced without a hitch, each of your students seemed deft enough in different areas, some knew the basics of basics, others had no idea on the tools you used. Imported Thelerian equipment that surprisingly was even more effective than the machinery doctors used in Arachne.

The morning was spent teaching away, taking small breaks for snacks and cleaning up. Finally around midday, the class was wrapped up.

Hunger was second to the need of seeing him once more. So your steps hurried, but a voice behind you prevented your feet from going further.

"Your majesty! Wait!"

A servant approached to deliver a message

"My lady awaits for your presence in the east part of the rose garden."

Before you could even ask who the mysterious lady was, the letter you previously received in your room came to mind. Hoping it would be a quick meeting since lunch with Miguel approached.

Instead of going straight to the shortcut that would lead to the dining hall, you turned left, going for the gardens.

A chilling gust of wind hit your face, stopping for a minute before resuming your steps for the encounter. All you now knew it was a lady.

Clouds followed you, their graying intensifying, keeping all sunshine to themselves, letting everything underneath to drown in cold blues and greys. A chill ran down your spine the more you ventured within the gardens.

You've only been on the outer sides and north part of them, easily mistaken by a maze if one didn't know where to go.

Dread crept up in your chest upon seeing a different side of the usual beauty. Thick thorns spreaded to your left and right, adorning the dull and rusty fences that did a poor job in keeping them inside. It reminded you like the thorns you initially saw back when entering Arachne for the first time.

Ever sharp and ready to draw blood to anyone that dared to subdue them. The humid and moldy smell assaulted your senses with such violence you had to smell your clothed wrist to ease the burn in your nose.

New aromas tried to get in your lungs, rotten wood, stilted water on a nearby fountain, weeds and twigs growing from the floor. Some stuck in the hem of your dress, as if preventing you from going further. Air leaving a weird taste in your mouth. Your skin crawled.

Carefully, your pried yourself away to finally arrive to a completely different milieu.

Red roses grew along the thorns that had claimed every wall they could spread to. Thickets had been relatively trimmed to give them a less unkempt look, each to the entrance of a new section of the garden. Directly facing Miguel's war room.

A room only the council, his soldiers and himself had access to. And now you as well.

Eyes ventured in the neatly arranged table before you. Pastries you've had a glimpse of back in the city, some snacks and two goblets placed on each side of the table, to finally land on a beautiful woman.

Dressed in red velvet and fine linens, hair impeccably combed in a short bob under the pearl-rimmed gable hood ontop of her head. Golden earrings and chains around her neck. A noble.

Her pretty smile only widened yet it did not reach her blue eyes.

"Your majesty."

She gave a brief bow, which you returned. Au contraire of her, you were donned with a much simple and modest suit. The navy blue bodice had some splotches of dust and herbs, skirt lacking with the usual fluff of the farthingale underneath. Headdress with a softer shape covering your head and loose braid.

Yet, the Blanchard family ring on your left hand screamed what this lady attempted to emulate. Power.

Blue irises raked over your face and it made her chuckle. Your whole body tensed, as your hands rested before you.

"My apologies for showing up like this."

"By all means, teaching the future medics of Arachne must be quite the feat. Please, let's have a seat."

The table was spacious enough to have two people, yet sufficiently small to be an arms away from eachother. You took a seat before her. Hubris and luxury exuded from every pore of the lady in red.

"My name is Dana D'Angelo, your majesty. A pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh."

"Nice to meet you, my lady."

Oh how her rotten heart loved when the ones in the top called her that. And coming from you made it all the better. It gave her a glimpse of what her life as a queen could be.

"I've heard that it was your first class today."

"It was, yes. The king was generous to provide me such gift."

"Oh, I bet. He loves gifting things to those he considers equals."

You blinked at her words as Dana drank from her goblet, but her gaze always remained in you. You swallowed, uncomfortable.

Scrutinized was a measly thing. Her stare felt like yanking the outer layers of yourself with the intent to leave your soul bare.

"You seem to know him."

Your eyes remained soft yet guarded, focused in her.

"Of course. I've known Miguel ever since he was eighteen. I've seen his progress through the years, and of course I am proud of the man he has turned into."

"Quite noble of you to support him, my lady. The king needs all the help possible."

Dana nodded, pleased, "In that you're absolutely right, your highness. I'm sure you've already met my father, Baron Darko."

You nodded solemnly, hands resting ontop of the table. Even though the food looked appealing, you didn't take a bite. In fact the first thing you did while taking a seat was to discreetly take a whiff of it. It was days old at much, and the pastries oozed with a sour scent. but in Dana's plate was all freshly made.

"I have."

"My apologies for his behavior. Even though the times have changed, he remains closed off to new perspectives, your highness."

"It's natural to fear or feel discomfort towards the unknown, Lady Dana."

"Still, my father gets pride into gushing about his knowledge in Arachne. But, since given you are the future queen of Arachne, and Theleria as well, I wanted to know, do you feel ready for such duties?"

"Ruling a kingdom is far from easy, so I will say, No. I am not. At least not completely. If you were in my place, what would you believe?"

"I am."

Your brow twitched discreetly, the praising of course always meant something behind. And the speed she answered was as if she had been waiting for that question forever.

"Care to elaborate why, besides being a native of Arachne and knowing the king for ages?"

"Beg your pardon?" Dana's tone was expected, yet the impervious demeanor of your mother that rubbed on you was finally paying off. That didn't mean that you actually enjoyed the route the conversation was taking. In fact, dread was juggling with your heart.

"Let me rephrase the question, my lady. What is your vision for Arachne?"

"Clearly one where Arachne can be the most feared kingdom, as it always has."

"I see."

"If it wasn't for that soft voice of yours, I'd dare to say you sound disappointed."

"At all, visions of a kingdom may vary. I respect your thoughts."

Dana's eyes narrowed in the slightest as she taunted "Even though they may differ from yours?"

"Indeed. That's what tolerance is about."

Miguel was holding a meeting with Peter, who was called for a debrief after the lessons ended. Jessica, Ben and Hobie were called to the room along Gabriel.

The latter however sat nearby the window and for a moment, spaced out. Far too interested in the scenery before him than going over and over the routes he knew by heart at this point. Meeting was quick.

However, the spot of red focused all his attention to it. Green eyes widened upon seeing you and Dana together.

"Shit"

Everyone looked at his way, specially Miguel that glowered as Gabriel pulled him towards the window. The king was about to land a hit on his younger brother but quickly understood the message upon seeing you.

"Mierda..." He bolted off the room, Peter trailed after him, while Jessica came to the window. A hand going at her mouth.

"As much as I'd love continue talking, I believe it's time for this claptrap to end, my lady."

"I know, you are a busy woman, your majesty. I believe I heard you have a lunch with the king?"

"You seem to be quite interested in my affairs. I don't know whether to feel alarmed or flattered that you use your spare time to know about my whereabouts."

Dana stood with a discreet huff and roll of her eyes, and you followed. Her gaze met your beautiful poker face.

"Don't feel flattered, princess. I assure you, I spend my time in more creative and productive ways, and even better with the right company."

"Would you like to be less cryptic and go straight at your motives? I am not one for indulging gossips or silly talks."

"Don't worry, your highness. As the king's main mistress I also have a schedule to follow."

You swallowed hard the upcoming knot in your throat, breath stopping for a second.

Her rotten heart gave a derisive laugh inside upon seeing the cracks in your stony demeanor. But she had to give you something, you didn't break easily.

Although it was fun to see your eyes getting bloodshot from the upcoming cry, you locked up the tears and bit the insides of your cheek with such force you tasted blood, but even so, it was a better taste than bile's sourness rising in the back of your throat.

Heart beating miles per second, menacing to stop at any moment. It didn't help that the crows flapped away out of nowhere, carrying their omens and allegedly bad luck elsewhere.

"Then, I must leave you, madam."

You bowed and gathered your skirt to walk away but Dana was set into seeing your tears fall. The hurried steps from where you came only approached, nearly galloping in your direction.

"I will produce him a heir. I... We've been trying, even before you came."

"Then, I bid you both good luck. Rose tea is a great ally for fertility. Anything else you'd like to add?"

"My love for him is unfathomable, your majesty."

At this point her words felt like mere taunts that were escalating to a tantrum upon seeing you somewhat composed.

"That is clear. Too bad you're too much of a coward to do this without him present so he can know."

Dana frowned, "Oh, he knows. But he is too busy playing the fool with you. He might marry you, but his heart is always with me."

"I don't fight over simple trivialities, madam, much less over men. What you do with the king is none of my business, but I must warn you, once I become a queen, stay away from my affairs. Don't force me to go back to my kingdom's old ways"

"Is that a threat, Princess?"

"A promise, madam."

Dana scoffed upon seeing Miguel's head peeking over the corner.

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness."

She didn't get what she initially wanted but was satisfied of your reaction. Her plan was fruitful enough to leave you on your own with the spiraling and violent thoughts tearing your mind and heart apart.

A loud rumble drowned the steps of Miguel and Peter. Peter looked for Dana, but she was nowhere to be found, her escape was flawless. But what use would it be to find her when the damage had already been done?

What was left to fix where all you had left were ruins after that harrowing hurricane of a woman trampled on your hopes and evolving feelings towards a man you thought different from what you knew?

You saw the obsidian in his shoes before your form, his hands about to take a hold of your face to make you look at him, but instinctively you pushed it away. It wasn't a hard slap, nor a feeble one.

Miguel's heart stopped as his eyes narrowed, feeling the cutting of your words in the shape of a dagger, slicing and twisting inside his already frail heart.

"I beg you. Don't touch me."

"Princesa..."

His voice barely a whisper, and you looked at him. And God, he wished that you didn't.

For once Miguel wished to be blind, to be deaf, so he couldn't see the heartbreak in your eyes. So he couldn't hear such words that had his heart beating so painfully his breathings hitched. For once, the genius of a man, the ruthless sovereign, The Red King, was at lost on what to do and feel.

Your eyes said it all.

Liar

He approached and you stepped back. He swallowed. If sadness, anger and disappointment could be a person, you'd be the perfect embodiment of such traits.

You disgust me.

Each of your hypothetical words only added another hefty stone on his frail self control. Eyes cold, devoid of all the kindness and admiration he secretly longed to see everytime you were around him. Nothing in them. Not even hatred.

He was sure you believed him so unworthy of anything, even negatives.

He had experienced the many different looks their enemies seized him with, but yours obliterated and trampled all strength with such easiness that had his hands shaky and his lips dry with a feeling he thought long forgotten. Hopelessness.

"I forgot this is all a political game. Forgive my naivety, ser. I got too carried away."

"Please, could you list-"

"Pardon if I misunderstood your hospitality customs for something else. Won't happen again."

You bowed to him, letting a lone tear to break at his feet, to then turn around and walk away, disappearing from his sight. All he could do was watch.

No, no.

The sky finally broke, hitting him remorselessly with each drop, as a punishment and he did nothing but to accept it.

Your steps guided you aimlessly through the halls of the castle. Despite the need of running back to your room was overwhelming, you took the time to wander through. Numbness was too comfortable on your brain to let go.

And it was only when you passed the lab, that an acute pang in your chest made itself known. Everything reminded you of him.

His damned smile, his kindness, everything had been a lie. Was it? You didn't know what to believe anymore. Yet none other than yourself popped in your mind as the only culprit.

Always fantasious, inlove with tales that were borderline too good to be true. Too sweet to be savoured and too fantastic to happen in real life.

Little it mattered now when the lover's slate was wiped clean, reducing you as a mere pawn to secure your kingdom's safety. Like it was meant to be since the beginning yet you had dared to believe everything would be better. Different.

Peter huffed behind you, catching his breath. But you didn't want him around, in fact the only company you wanted was yourself and your pen and papers.

"Y-Your Highness."

"I wish to be alone until further notice, ser"

"You know I can't do that. As much as I'd like to leave you on your own, I can't. It's my duty to protect you."

"You're certainly have failed."

You heaved as shoulders slumped. Peter frowned as his eyes averted from your form.

"I didn't mean to... Those words are more to myself than you. Forgive me to drag you to this."

Your head shook while taking a sheet of paper.

"I'm still looking for Dana. The king-"

"Is a liar."

"No, your highness, that's not-"

"My father has whores whenever he likes. It's not-" You bit your tongue for a moment, trying to get your voice steady, "He's not a saint. He's stupid and selfish to rather a whore's company than my own mother, but at least, ser Peter, he's open about it."

Peter could only cast his eyes away, he knew you were right. How could he rebut to that, much more when he experienced first hand the disgust and the outcome of what a mistress could do? He simply couldn't.

"He doesn't hide who he is."

"Remember the talk we had about the mistress looking for him-"

"Again, why keeping them? Am... Am I not enough?"

Oh Miguel, you fucking idiot...

"Maybe I never was. Please close the door when you leave. I wish to be alone."

Peter only bowed to you and left. And when the final click of the door echoed in the cold room, the dam in your tears was let loose. Allowing you to finally break with a quiet whimper.

The weight of initial loneliness, being homesick and now this, finally dropped on your shoulders like ton of bricks. Each that fell on your back made sure to break your weary bones further.

Whatever Dana had plotted was achieved. If her intention was to hurt, it was granted with flying colors. She had won, you weren't a sore loser, you knew when to admit defeat and step aside.

But one thing was true. You felt dirty.

You removed your clothes in a haste and got in the tub, scrubbing yourself until your skin stung, trying to erase any trace of him. The same lips that had kissed you, had kissed her. The same hands that touched you, had touched her. Probably in places that made you stomach revolt at the thought.

But no matter how much you scrubbed or bruised your skin, he still remained there. Forever etched in your skin, like an invisible tattoo only you were able to see. Your own Cain mark.

Even though your hands stung and bled around some places in the knuckles, you still sat before the desk and wrote. And wrote, until your tears blended with the ink, and you tore the pages to start over.

How much you longed for an embrace that didn't feel rehearsed or for pity. For some comforting words that only tipped the balance to gain some favor, you missed your mother.

If he keeps causing you pain, return home. We'll find a solution.

Of course. You could always go back home. It wouldn't be a failure. You had tried your absolute best, and still it wasn't enough.

A new sheet of paper was brought, words already flowing along the ink.

You were going home.

Peter had to drag him inside, after the rain started, armor heavier than usual but no physical weight could be compared to his mind's.

It all had happened so quietly and quickly, that the wasn't ready for such impact, much less the magnitude of the chaos the destructive nature of Dana left in her wake.

All of those warnings, all of those cold shoulders made his burdens light as a feather. Their unavoidable load finally crushing him against the ground, remorselessly.

His breeches were soaked but even so, it was the only piece of clothes remaining in him, as his armor and wet clothes laid on the floor in a forlorn trail. He approached the fire, to make some warmth to seep in back to his body.

The quiet click of his door, didn't move him from the spot, instead he kept glued in his stance. The glow of the fire shone over his skin, an ominous glow that made him rekindle his old battles, his old ways.

Lukewarm arms embraced his back, hands hung lazily over the hem of his breeches. Soft lips kissed his back in a poor attempt to return some of the missing and much needed heat.

His lip twitched when Dana grunted, pleased that he didn't budge.

"What did you say to the Princess?"

Dana stopped for a second, bold hand going inside the hem. Her skin crawled upon feeling the trimmed curls of his pubis. Miguel didn't twitch. Anger was simmering so slow that his body begun warming up on its own. Dana's ministrations were useless and irritating at best.

"Just a few little things about us. And she basically told me that you were mine to keep. That she didn't fight over men."

Miguel only hummed in response. He felt her hands touching him, in the same way she used to console him when a meeting had gone sour. He always welcomed her.

Young, stupid and raging in hormones, that if it wasn't for him to secretly feeding Dana any herb considered a contraceptive and low dosages of poison, he'd probably be over his third child. But now, her touch was unrequited, and it only added fire to his already skyrocketing fury.

"Do you know what you've done, Dana?"

The mistress' strokes stopped. She knew that tone. She knew when Miguel was about to explode.

And still, she taunted "Making you completely mine?" To then step before him, crushing her chest against his, enhancing the sight of her mounds just for him. She had won.

"No, querida. Far from that."

Dana's triumphant smile faded slowly when Miguel reached for her nape, and tangled his hand on the base of her neck.

"You just sped up you own execution, Danita."

Right?

She had won, and still it was victory Miguel refused to acknowledge.

All thoughts were sapped away as Miguel pulled her by her hair roughly. Like mostly of their old games. Dana just laughed, but it quickly was replaced by a pained yelp as he slammed her against the wall.

"T-Thats not funny anymore, Miguel-" But none had prepared her for his yelling at her face

"Estúpida y maldita zorra!" (You dumb fucking bitch)

He towered easily over her, one of his hands easily enveloped her tender neck. Dana gulped and he felt the move, widening his dark smirk. It was The Red King who moved and talked. A side he only showed in battle, and his most despicable enemies.

Dana struggled to be free, fear took over as Miguel rested his forehead against hers, cold and unforgiving stare boring into her soul.

"Why are you so set into making everything I work for so damn hard?!"

"I was supposed to be the queen! You said it!"

"Oh, Danita. Did you really think I'd marry you?"

"Let me go!"

He squeezed tighter instead, silencing her pleas

"I-" She choked and tried with all her might to push him away, but this only enticed his cruelty, "I've been there for you, wasn't I?!"

Even in her suffering, she still tried to appeal to those memories that undeniably she had given him. In her delusional and entitled mind she deserved him.

"When your father and mother died, I was there! Not her! I've loved you more than anyone in this stupid castle could ever do!"

Miguel's brow quirked boredly as tears stained his hand

"I saw you getting crowned! I lost my maidenhood to you when you won your first ever b-battle!" She sputtered as Miguel squeezed tighter. Her toes barely touching the floor, "I-I wiped your tears, patched your wounds-"

"And because of that you believe you have power over me? Over my kingdom? "

His eyes twinkled in amusement as the life danced in Dana's gaze. Fear oozed from every pore at his eerie calm, yet his hands did all the talking for him. It had been ages since he didn't crush someone's throat. And even so, he wouldn't make it quick.

"You are supposed t'be mine" Dana slurred and Miguel just scoffed

"How cute and stupid for you to believe you can own me."

All his pain and rage from each of your words, turned into the vice like grip, strength leaving her the more she thrashed.

"Don't" Dana heaved and struggled to let words come out. The fear and lack of air was clouding her judgment, "D-" Don't be ungrateful-"

I was there, she mouthed but Miguel only applied more pressure into her neck. Dana kicked and whimpered weakly. The imminent end approached in a torturous slow pace. Despair and death banging at her door.

"Ungrateful? I gave you every stupid whim you asked for, gave your scum like family a position in my court when I knew they would only leech off me" He hissed while his teeth bared "Put you too many times as a priority when the kingdom was crumbling around me, and I am ungrateful?"

Dana's lids drooped, dizzy. Lips purple, like her face.

"You never did anything worthy besides being a fuck toy, darling. Why should I reward you for such thing?"

"M-Miguel-" Her hands although weakly, reached for him, but he slapped the limbs away with his free hand. Unlike you that had been kind even in your pain.

"All you had to do was listen when I told you to stay away from her, didn't I?"

"P-"

"But you love tempting the devil, don't you?"

Please

"Why didn't you listen?!"

Dana managed to mark his face a last time.

His hands squeezed until something caved under the pressure with a lurid crack. Crimson eyes stared in disgust at how the dull in Dana's gaze vanished. Hands and body stilled after an initial twitch. He let the body fall on the floor with a careless thud like the many he had ended before.

Another one for his endless tab. Regret lingered but not out of guilt, rather than not taking this matter in his hands sooner.

Adrenaline rushed through his body, his mouth gave a shaky and borderline ecstatic breath, savouring the panic for a moment. It felt like a new sort of vitamin had been injected in his heart, cause it beat with healthy and powerful pumps. A tired smile crept up his lips.

Finally.

He was free, his past has died. There was nothing to keep him bound to her. No ropes that held him back.

When the rush vanished, he called Jessica and Ben, that upon entering his chambers watched in horror at the familiar body on the ground. Grotesquely beautiful as it stared back from its spot. Death pungent in the air.

"Get rid of her" Voice dripped in disdain while he searched for a dry change of clothes.

Jessica had forgotten what was like to face him after a meaningful kill. It was this side of him that had granted him a throne and the respect of the rest of the continent.

Pleased and proud of himself for such feat, arrogance exuding from every pore, but the satisfied smile plastered all over his face was the macabre element of the equation.

Jessica had been forgetting her own participation in the slaughter. But this predicament reminded her enough that The Red King never left. That only great amounts of rage brought him back.

Ben glanced at the body as he rearranged it to be put out. The gruesome bruise in the shape of his hand was fresh on her neck, fear still etched in her features as some tears pooled in the corner of her inner lid. Ben closed her eyes, trying to give her a less haunting look.

"What about her family?"

A chill ran down Jessica's spine upon his next words.

"Wipe them all out. Except Baron Darko."

Another thing she knew too well. He was sparing him to set an example of what happens if you don't listen. His words were absolute and final.

"Burn her and give her ashes to him."

Cruel and cold Red King.

Jessica could only bow and left to get some extra help, hoping he wasn't there to stay.

Taglist :

@obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @nxrdamp @a--dedicated--fangirl @rin0r1na @queenofroses22 @sofi786 @murnsondock @okayiamkassandra @kimmis-stuff @ceoofmiguel @meeom @handsomeprettytoes @ladymoztaza @chiikasevennn @mxtokko @gabrielarose29 @oooof-ifellforyou @minalovesyoubabes @kikisstrawberrie @know-that-its-delicate @aikoiya @st0r-fruit @ittybxttykxttytxtty @local-mr-frog @liidiaaag @berlinswifey @eepybunny0805 @vonev @cheerrioeoz @solesurvivorjen @zaunsin @ange-grayson @peachsteven @kdrosebme @geraskier-thots @rjasmin2021 @yehet-moi-ohorat @death-moth-art @smookycloyd @somehopeatlast @jadinwitch @bunnibitez @heartsia @wakeupr41 @scaleniusrm @itsameclinicaldepression @maimai020104 @av3da @plumplum2099 @ednaaa-04 @enananawoah

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #royal au #Crimson Crown #miguel o'hara angst #angst

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phoenixblaze1412 · 7 months

Note

Could I request child reader who’s always really curious and frequently ends up getting hurt in dottores lab

Reminders to avoid confusion: Webttore will be called Theta, Omega is the segment in Sumeru who got the gnosis, Prime is Zandik himself.

To say that the segments were confused would be an understatement.

They are looking at you, who was being carried by Prime, as if you are a new species that they have never seen before across all Teyvat.

Meanwhile you, looking at them with your doe eyes, could only stare at them in wonder. Curiosity flashing across your face as you gripped on Prime's clothes so as to not fall.

"The fuck is that?" asked the segment with a mask that almost covers his whole face.

"'That' is a child, Beta. I suggest that all of you should keep the swearing to a minimum when in their presence." Prime said as another segment approached you and poked your cheek.

"Where did you even find them? Don't children have parents?"

"Their parents have been neutralized. I didn't expect to find them still alive under all the rubble after their house burned down. But their curiosity about the world around them is quite an amazing feature which is why I decided to keep them and turn them into my apprentice."

You giggled at the segment poking your cheek, his mask making you want to see the face underneath. Your hand quickly reached out and pulled the mask away from the segment's face.

Said segment could only stare at you in shock as you looked back at his ruby red eyes with a smile, your curious eyes glancing at the other segments that were wearing masks as well.

"If you have any complaints, do speak now and tell them. If not, this child will be living with us from now on."

The whole room was engulfed with silence, the segments glancing between you and Prime.

"Then it's settled."

The segments thought it wouldn't be too hard taking care and teaching you to fulfill that curious mind of yours.

It was a lie. The segments are fucking stressed out.

Every time you're in the lab with them, you always manage to get yourself hurt because of your curiosity. That mind of yours is always hungry to learn new things. The quote 'curiosity killed the cat' is true. You're the curious cat, luckily they were able to keep you away from dying and accidentally killing yourself.

But please for the love of Tsaritsa herself, listen to what they tell you.

Smashing a test tube and getting cuts from the glass shards because you wanted to know what the weird blue liquid was when Gamma told you not to touch it? Gamma had to clean up the mess meanwhile getting scolded by Prime.

The segments made Alpha watch over you for the time being since he was doing the paperwork for the day. You were sat upon Alpha's lap while he read through each document on the desk and sorting them out. The segments thought that you wouldn't hurt yourself if you were surrounded with papers instead of glass and chemicals.

They thought wrong.

'How the fuck did you get papercuts thrice within a day?!'

Alpha was cleaning up the wounds on your fingers while muttering at how you were even able to get yourself hurt. He didn't expect you to suddenly give him one of the files and tell him the errors he missed.

Then there was Iota who got too impatient with you failing to solve a very difficult science equation that he yelled at how much of a dumbass you are only to get scolded by Prime himself. Iota swore not to do it again so as to not get caught within Prime's anger.

Not only are you always getting hurt, the segments have to deal with Prime's anger and disappointment towards them for being irresponsible with you.

The segments were somewhat glad to have either Omega or Theta around whenever Prime was busy. Aside from Prime, you listen and obey to Omega and Theta.

Still, no matter how many injuries you get and how many scoldings and punishments the segments go through, they still cherish you as their own little sibling.

Prime even gifted you the same earring of a vial filled with strange blue liquid that he and his segments wore.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST THEM, SIGMA?!"

"HAVE YOU GONE DEAF, EPSILON? I LOOKED EVERYWHERE FOR THEM. I EVEN TRIED TO GET THEM TO COME OUT USING THOSE COOKIES THEY LIKE."

"We are so dead.. Prime is gonna go on a killing spree if he finds out we lost (y/n)!"

"Let's all try to calm down and try to remember where she was earlier. That way we can get a clue on where she went."

"Wait, wasn't (y/n) crying when Omega was set to go to Sumeru?"

"...THEY'RE WITH OMEGA!"

"Omega!"

Omega turned his head as he watched you run over to him and cling onto his leg.

"(y/n), what are you doing here? Do the others know that you came with me?" Omega asked as he picked you up and carried you in his arms, your earring swaying side to side with each step he took.

"I don't want you to go so I hid from the others and came with you. I also want to see Sumeru." you replied, not knowing about the chaos that is happening back at the palace.

Omega only sighed and shook his head, walking on ahead and ignoring the stares he was getting from the fatui soldiers accompanying him.

"You know Prime is going to be very upset that you left without informing him." Omega stated as he felt you tense up in his hold.

"I don't want him to be upset.. I don't want to be neutralized.." you muttered. You didn't want Prime to neutralize you, you don't even know what he meant by that but you could only think of it as a punishment. Meanwhile Omega was surprised to hear you use the term. He knows Prime would never do that to you. Sure you may be an accident-prone child but your current knowledge and views about Teyvat helped them with their research.

You are definitely fit to be Dottore's apprentice and every segment can give a reason why.

"You won't be neutralized, dear. As long as you listen to what I tell you while we're here then I'll give you a tour of Sumeru, hm?" Omega suggested, making you look up at him with a nod.

"I'll even show you the ruin guards that Prime used to tinker with back then." Omega added with a hum as he heard you squeal in excitement.

Curiosity cannot kill the cat, the segments are here to watch her back.

#dottore x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #zandik x reader #il dottore #gender neutral reader

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kiss-me-cill-me · 4 months

Text

The Ninth Crewmember

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You are the ninth crewmember aboard Icarus II, and as the journey wears on you begin to find it harder and harder to ignore your feelings for Capa. Maybe it would be easier if he'd quit dragging you into bed with him...

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader taking birth control pills as well as other medications, mild angst/pining, nightmares, literal sleeping together, the fun kind of sleeping together, Capa is a bit of a dick but also a sadboi, teasing, begging, use of "good girl" (whoops), bad puns

A/N: Can you tell that I struggle with titles haha? Anyway, finally getting around to cross-posting this from AO3 in my continued attempts to fuel @cillmequick's Capa thots 😉

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Your fingers hovered over the panel, looking for the button you were supposed to press. They were all clearly labeled, but there were so many of them that you were having a hard time locating the one you needed. Your index finger moved hesitantly closer to a square near the bottom right of the panel.

“Not that one.”

Capa’s voice behind you made you jump. He sounded… not exactly annoyed, but tired by having to explain again what you were supposed to be doing. Your cheeks heated up as he leaned in close, chin hovering just above your shoulder as he looked at the panel.

“That one.”

He pointed at a button in the lower left, which, embarrassingly, was flashing bright orange and labeled “TEST” in all capital letters. You felt the need to apologize, but held your tongue. Capa went back to doing whatever it was he had been concentrating on before, at the other end of the room. The space he left in his wake felt oddly noticeable.

“Okay,” he said, taking his time to flip a couple of switches above his head. “Ready in three… two… one…”

You pressed the button as he finished counting down, and instantly the room in front of the control chamber was filled with spots of twinkling light. They seemed to dance over every surface for just a moment. The display lasted for less than three seconds, but it was breathtaking even in impermanence.

You looked over at Capa, your eyes still shining with the beauty of it, only to see him calmly taking notes. His expression was carefully neutral, lips pressed together as he scribbled with short, purposeful strokes.

“Capa?” you asked.

“Hm?”

He didn’t look up as he continued to record his observations, and you didn’t wait for him to before continuing.

“Do you think the real thing will look like that?”

Capa stopped writing for a moment, and seemed to consider your question seriously before answering.

“No,” he said finally, putting his stylus down and fixing you with a gaze that made you breath stop. “Even after watching a thousand of these simulations, I don’t think that any one of them could ever capture the true beauty. What it will really look like.”

You were standing a few feet away from him, fixed in place by his intense gaze. Something about Capa had fascinated you, from the moment you’d stepped aboard Icarus II. His bluntness, maybe, or the way his eyes seemed to scan over everything in front of him, as if he were reading it all - people, data, situations - like they were a book. And you would be lying if you said that it didn’t make your heart swell whenever he did it to you.

“You and I will be some of the only people to ever live who will see something so magnificent,” Capa said quietly. “We should count ourselves lucky.”

You nodded in agreement, too entranced and too afraid of flubbing your words to reply.

“Thank you for your help,” Capa continued. He went back to note taking, as if he hadn’t just been waxing poetic about life and the universe. “You can go.”

Capa’s words rang in your head as you made your way to the medbay. It had been hours since you’d left his lab, but the weight still seemed to resonate. A beauty unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. You reflected on the thought as you reported to Searle, to help with a few things before going to bed.

One of Searle’s duties was handing out supplements, and he often asked for your help with making the deliveries. Icarus II was a very large ship, and your fellow crewmembers were usually spread out in the various quarters and chambers. It was faster to do the job with two people.

Before heading off, you worked on separating various pills into small plastic cups, one for each person. There were quite a few pills that everyone had to take every day. Space travel was hard on the body, and it was difficult if not impossible to get all of the necessary nutrients from the food you had aboard. Even with the gardens and the ability to have fresh vegetables, you all still had to take a lot of supplements.

You finished doling out the vitamins, and then opened the final bottle of pills. You, Cassie, and Corazon also received one other daily medication: an oral contraceptive. You dropped three little pills into three little cups.

As you replaced the bottle’s lid, your mind drifted again to Capa. The weight of him hovering just behind you, so close that you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wondered if he had any idea that he made your heart flutter just by being next to you. If he did, he certainly didn’t show it. Capa was incredibly hard to read, but for some reason that only made you want him all the more. Your thoughts wandered, imagining things that you knew would never happen. His hand reaching out to you; the feel of his fingers against your waist; his beautiful blue eyes rolling back as he-

You slammed the bottle of pills down on the counter, banishing the fantasies before you could get too wrapped up in them. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. The birth control pills were mandated for female crewmembers, but they were precaution rather than permission. Nine people cooped up together, for years. It was better to prevent any potential problems from happening. It was only logical to mitigate the risk. But that didn’t mean that relationships were encouraged.

And besides, you told yourself, it's not like Capa would be interested anyway.

You picked up the little plastic vial with your pills, and tipped them all into your mouth, swallowing quickly.

They burned your throat on the way down.

Capa’s eyes looked almost white in the vivid yellow light of the sun. He looked at the dying star, and you looked at him, breathless again at the way he seemed to silently consider everything in front of him. The edges of his thumbs ghosted over his lips as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, as if to get just a bit closer to that magnificent light.

You were sitting in the observatory, Capa’s empty vial of pills placed precariously on the edge of the bench between you. It had taken you quite a while to find him. He often stayed up late working in his lab, and it was almost rare to see him outside of it. He had been your last delivery, so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit with him awhile before heading to your quarters.

You’d been wrong, of course; it hurt more than anything to sit next to him and not have the courage, or the recklessness, to reach out and touch him. As he looked on with amazement at the pulsating sun, you tore your eyes away from him to peer out as well. Dark webs of red and black stretched over the star’s surface. It was strange to think about - how up close it all looked so different from how it had back on Earth. It took up the entire viewing window; so large that it almost felt like it could swallow you at any moment, despite still being millions of miles away.

As he leaned forward, Capa’s dog tags dangled in front of his chest. You wanted nothing more than to grab them. Wrap your fingers around the thin cord holding them, and pull him to you until you both tumbled off the edge of something and into the blazing unknown.

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips. Chapped from the heat of the sun.

“It’s getting late,” you whispered, hoping that he would break the spell so that you wouldn’t have to. “You should get to bed, Capa.”

“Hard to when the sun’s always right there, isn’t it?” he asked, cryptically.

“I guess it is,” you agreed. “But you should still get some rest.”

Capa nodded, and rose from the bench, crushing his empty cup in his hand. He looked back at you, seemed as if he was about to say something, and then left the room without uttering a word. You let out a rough breath, shaking even as you were bathed in the glowing light.

A noise woke you up from your fitful sleep. You’d had a lot of trouble closing your eyes in the first place - probably because of the way your heart was still hammering in your chest, and the way your mind was racing from the events of the day. Still, it was odd to hear any sort of noise at night. Usually the hallways of the ship were deserted, as the crew all slept in their separate chambers. You listened closely, trying to identify the noise through the haze of sleep still clouding your senses.

You heard it again: a muffled banging followed by what sounded like someone struggling.

Curious, you got out of bed and padded softly across the floor of your small room. The door slid open soundlessly, and as you stepped out into the hall you heard the noise a third time. Now you could clearly tell that it was coming from across the hall. Capa’s room.

You hesitated for a moment, closed fist raised and ready to knock. He probably wouldn’t want you to bother him, but what if something was wrong and you ignored it? You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. You knocked.

Another muffled sound came from inside, unintelligible.

“Capa?” you whispered, lips pressed as close to the door as you could manage. You didn’t want to wake anyone else up.

There was no answer.

Well, you were already here. You might as well go in and make sure he was okay, just in case. Pressing the small button to open the door, you slipped quietly into his room. The door slid closed behind you.

Capa’s room was entirely dark, unlike the faint, recessed glow of the hallway. It took your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they finally did you could see Capa asleep in his bed, thrashing against some unseen threat. He was having a nightmare.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. You shouldn’t have barged in; this was his personal space. He was vulnerable, and clearly going through something unpleasant. Knowing Capa, you felt certain that he wouldn’t want any of the others seeing him like this, including you. His brows creased and lips pressed feverishly together in his sleep. You turned to leave, feeling foolish.

“Who’s there?”

The sound of Capa’s voice behind you made you freeze. Just like earlier, in the lab, a shiver inched down your spine at the thought of facing him. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“It’s me,” you responded, turning around.

He was sitting up in bed, blankets pooled around his waist. Shirtless. You felt your face heating up, and were relieved that he couldn’t see your eyes widen in the dark.

“Oh,” said Capa softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um… I heard something and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Against your better judgment, you took a few steps toward him as you spoke. There was a chair next to his bed, and you sat in it, leaning forward on your elbows as you tried to read his expression. The lines of his face betrayed nothing, as usual.

“Is… everything okay?” you asked hesitantly.

Capa swallowed before answering, his eyes flitting up to land on your face. Even in the dark, somehow they seemed to shine. You wanted to look away. You knew you should. But looking into his eyes felt the same as the rushing weightlessness of looking into the sun.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Sometimes I have nightmares.”

You nodded, a little surprised he had opened up to you..

“Me too,” you admitted.

Capa seemed to understand what you meant, without you having to say it. He didn’t look away from you as he spoke.

“It is frightening,” he told you. “To be face to face with all of it. The beauty. The scale, unlike anything you’d ever seen back on Earth.” Your mind flashed back to Capa in the observation deck, eyes wide open and leaning forward toward the molten sun. You had thought he was fascinated, but maybe it was something more like the magnetic pull of fear that made him inch closer.

“But I meant what I said earlier,” he continued. “We are lucky to be here.”

Silence hung between you for a moment.

“I’m sorry for letting myself in,” you said finally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Don’t be,” Capa said. “It’s nice to be checked up on.”

You smiled softly, even as your heart hammered in your chest. You put your hands on your knees and stood up from the chair, then leaned down to look at Capa one last time. He was still sitting up in bed, propped on one elbow, facing slightly toward you. A breath caught in your throat as you reached out and placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

“Get some rest, Capa,” you told him, giving a gentle squeeze.

As you moved your hand away, suddenly it was stopped by strong, stable fingers. You looked down to see Capa grabbing your wrist, looking up at you with those damn sensuous eyes. This time, your heart stopped.

“Stay with me?” Capa asked, the barest hint of a prayer in his voice.

“I…”

“Please?”

Time seemed to stand still as you looked at him. A trace of fear in the very corner of his eyes. A few pieces of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pressing just a bit too tight.

“Okay,” you agreed. The word seemed to carry all of the air in your lungs along with it, out into the vacant night.

You sat on the edge of his bed, awkwardly facing him, and Capa moved backward to make more space for you. Hesitant, you weren’t sure if he wanted you to lie down next to him. It wasn’t exactly a roomy bed, not being intended for more than one person to occupy at a time. You flittered with indecision as Capa settled back into his pillows.

“C’mere.”

Suddenly, an arm was around your waist. And then you were being hooked into Capa’s body, your back pressing snugly against his chest. Capa sighed behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. His arm was still draped around your waist, and his lips just barely brushed against you.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

You let out a shaky breath, and prayed that Capa couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

The next morning, you woke up alone. You tried to ignore your disappointment. Capa was an early riser; the type to get a head start on the day by spending all hours in his lab, including the ones before anyone else on the ship was awake. You had always seen him as a hard worker, but after seeing him so unusually agitated last night, you now wondered if there weren’t other reasons he barely seemed to sleep.

You looked around the small room for a few moments, reflecting on what had happened. Part of you still couldn’t believe it. Was it possible that Capa had feelings for you, or were you just a warm body to sleep next to? Did it even matter? If it meant you got to press yourself up against him, you honestly didn’t care whether there was anything more to it.

But then anxiety clouded your mind. What if Capa had left because he was embarrassed? Too shy to confront you about the mistake he’d made in asking you to stay with him? He was, generally, very straightforward - but you also got the sense that he liked to avoid conflict if possible. And he was so damn hard to read. You sat up and put your feet on the floor, crossing your legs and squeezing them together. He was driving you crazy, and the worst part was, you were way too much of a coward to tell him about it.

You stood, made a sound of frustration, and carefully left the room - looking both ways before you stepped out into the hallway. It was still early, but you certainly didn’t need anyone seeing you step out of Capa’s room first thing in the morning. Rumors traveled faster in the cramped halls of a spaceship than lightning on a summer’s night. You slipped back into your own room, and got ready for the day. Maybe, later, you would confront Capa.

You spent the day avoiding Capa. Which wasn’t too hard; he really did spend most of his time in his lab. You focused on helping Corazon in the oxygen garden, trying to distract yourself with the calming, white-noise sound of water. It didn’t do much good for your nerves, unfortunately.

As the hours wore on, you became more and more agitated, and ultimately, convinced that Capa regretted your night together. It was disappointing, sure, but this was really just a testament to why you shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. Even if you did literally only sleep with them.

That night, you begged off of helping Searle with the medications; telling him you had a headache and wanted to get to bed. Really, you just couldn't face the thought of handing Capa his little plastic cup of pills, watching as he observed you with his characteristic disinterest. Searle added a few ibuprofen to your medications and watched as you swallowed them down, before telling you he’d handle it and to get some rest.

Eyes on the floor, you headed to your room.

This was not good. You still had years left on the ship, pressed together with everyone in tight quarters. And Capa was right across the hall from you. There was no possible way to avoid him, and yet, how were you supposed to face him after the embarrassment of being ignored and rejected? Your thoughts were still swirling as you reached the door to your quarters, and pressed the button to go inside.

“Sleeping alone tonight?”

The familiar voice behind you caught you off guard. You hadn’t seen him there.

“I didn’t realize there was another option.”

You turned around to face him, slowly. Capa was standing in the open doorway to his room, hands in his pockets and arms unfairly attractive in his light gray tank top. There was just a hint of mischief in his eyes as they slowly swept over you, and it made you feel both anger and arousal.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Capa said, again seeming to sense what you were feeling without you even telling him. “Trey needed my help with something, and I figured you wouldn’t want me to wake you. Ooor want to walk out together in front of him.”

You felt yourself starting to soften, but still gave your best attempt at a pout as you crossed your arms.

“You could have told me earlier.”

“I know. And I am sorry.” Capa took a step back into his room. “Let me make it up to you?”

It was the wrong decision to follow him. You knew this, but you did it anyway. If only to finish the conversation in the relative privacy of Capa’s room instead of out in the hallway where anyone could hear you. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Please don’t be mad?”

Capa’s room was dark, again, and it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust. When you could see him clearly, he was looking down at you, careful expression and head cocked to the side as he awaited your answer.

“Okay,” you agreed.

You were rewarded with a small smile from Capa, and instantly your heart melted. You really couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you wanted to. He was just too damned attractive.

“Let’s go to bed then,” Capa said happily.

He tore off his shirt as he walked to the bed, and for a second you weren’t sure how you were going to stay upright. Capa stood by the bed and waited for you.

“Ladies first.”

“I, um…” you began. “Maybe I should get my pajamas out of my room.”

“Mmm, you don’t really need them.”

Capa took a step toward you and reached over, pulling you close to him. At the same time, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. And before you could protest, he was pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you only in shorts and a sports bra.

“That’s better,” he smirked.

Capa’s warm fingers landed on your waist, and you felt yourself swoon again. If it weren’t for his piercing blue eyes holding you in place, you were certain you would have fallen over.

Gently, Capa guided you to bed and let you climb in first, before crawling after you. You were spooning again, this time with you lying closest to the wall. With Capa’s body pressed against you, the result was a warm but not uncomfortable closeness. It felt like you were boxed into your own little world, even as the vastness of space threatened to spill in all around you.

Capa’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in even tighter. You settled back against him, all of your earlier tension melting away. This was nice, whatever it was. You had made up your mind to just enjoy it. It had been a long time since you’d been so close to someone. Capa’s long hair tickled your neck and shoulders, and you exhaled as he-

“Capa!”

His mouth was suddenly on your shoulder, kissing rough enough to leave a bruise. You felt heat rush to your face once again.

“Shhhh,” he teased, lips brushing against you. “Don’t want anyone else to hear us, right?”

“What are you doing?” you whispered frantically.

“Making it up to you,” Capa replied, devilishly. “Like I said I would.”

He put his lips on your neck this time, kissing and scraping your soft skin with his teeth. Despite yourself, you let out a small whimper. Capa’s arms tightened around you.

“Do you forgive me?” Capa asked. You could feel him smiling into your neck.

“I-I don’t know.” A sudden surge of boldness swept through you. “You might need to convince me some more.”

“Hmmm,” Capa growled, directly into your ear. “Wonder how I can do that…"

One of his hands trailed lazily up and down your thigh. His touch was feather-light; moving so slowly that it had your head spinning. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your leg, pads of his fingers pressing into your bare flesh.

“Oh-”

The word left your lips involuntarily, and you felt Capa smirk against you again.

“Think I might have a few ideas…” he said.

“Capa, I-” Before you could get out more than two words, his hand had snaked around to the front of your shorts and was pushing past your waistband. Separated only by the cloth of your panties, his fingers pressed against the wetness that was quickly spreading between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispered. “I knew you were into me, but I didn’t know you had it this bad.”

You arched your back against his bare chest, too drunk on his fingers to formulate a response. And he hadn’t even pushed past your panties yet; he was just touching you through the fabric as you fell apart for him.

“Good girl,” he rasped, sending another wave of euphoria from your neck to your throbbing cunt. “So eager. Want me to put ‘em inside you?”

You nodded, desperate but not trusting your voice enough to speak. Capa slid his hand past the final layer of fabric that separated you, and then one of his fingers was pressing into you. You squeezed your legs together, trapping his hand, and Capa quickly added another finger.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed.

His fingers curled, pulling at the strings of tension that were already building in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to scream for him, but knew you shouldn't. The walls of the ship were far from soundproof, and there were rooms on either side of you.

Capa’s thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it as his fingers continued to move inside of you. You were desperate for something to grab onto, but the only thing in front of you was blank wall. You settled for wrapping your legs around his, entangling yourselves together to give you some semblance of being grounded. You bucked against his hand, begging for more friction.

“Forgive me yet?” Capa teased, his breath ghosting over your ear again.

You shook your head no; not willing to give up on the game just yet. Behind you, Capa chuckled.

“So stubborn,” he muttered. “You really want to make me work for it.”

Capa took his fingers away, and you moaned at the sudden loss of him. Not wasting any more time, he grabbed your shorts and pulled them down. You had a brief moment to wonder what you had gotten yourself into.

You’d felt his growing bulge press into your back as Capa had teased you with his fingers, and now you felt him sliding out of his sweatpants. You were both naked from the waist down, and-

“Fuck, Capa.”

He was brushing the tip over your entrance, not pressing into you yet but just taunting with the idea of it. His hand was firmly at the base of his shaft, ready to guide himself up into you.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Please, Capa.”

“Wanna hear you say it.”

“I need you inside me,” you whispered.

“Fucking beg for it.”

With a frustrated whine, you pushed down and back, forcing his cock into your aching pussy. He was such a tease; you couldn't take it any longer. He was so hard he slid right into you, and the stretch against your walls was like heaven.

Without warning, your orgasm broke over you, crashing into your body with an intensity unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was bliss and beauty and all for the man who was ruining you with every touch. You pressed harder, wanting to feel Capa inside of you as deep as you possibly could. You arched against him, head falling back against his shoulder as you rode out the high.

Capa grabbed at your breasts roughly.

“You know,” he began, “you've never been very good at following directions.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, making you gasp as you clenched around nothing. Quickly, you were flipped onto your back, and then Capa was hovering over you, his eyes burning ice blue.

“Let's try that again,” he said, lining himself up as he leaned forward, pressing his whole body against yours. “I want you. To fucking. Beg.”

“Capa, please,” you breathed.

“Please what?”

“Please put it in me! God, I want you to fill me up. Please, please-”

Capa smirked above you, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

“That's my good girl.”

The sound that left your mouth as he entered you once again would have been mortifying, had you been thinking straight enough to hear it. As it was, Capa seemed to drink up your pathetic mewls and breathy sighs. He pumped in and out of you a few times, watching as you bounced on the bed beneath him.

“Should've gotten you in my bed a long time ago,” Capa panted, still pumping into you relentlessly. “I could've been listening to your pretty noises this whole time.”

His face was right next to yours; the stubble on his jaw scratching you with every thrust. You could feel his lips brushing against your ear as he continued.

“Kinda regret wasting all those hours in the lab with you doing actual work. It's a lot more fun for me to press your buttons.”

Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and your fingers tangled in his hair. Capa kissed you roughly on the lips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, falling out of their methodical rhythm.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, yeah?”

You could do nothing but wrap your legs around him tighter, pinning him in place.

“Fuck, that's right. Gonna take all of it and beg for more. I'll have you in here every fucking night, on your back for me, screaming so that everybody hears how bad you want me to stick it in you.”

Capa’s mouth was going to be the death of you. You clenched around him, silently begging him to cum. It was humiliating, how badly you wanted to be filled by him.

“Oh, fuck!” Capa shouted, entirely too loud.

He held you tight as he emptied into you, giving a few final, weak thrusts. He was breathing heavily, still looming over you as his chest heaved. After a few seconds, he pulled back to look at you.

“So, does that make up for leaving this morning?” he asked, smirk still plastered on his face.

“I… don't know,” you panted. “I think we might need to do it once more… to make sure.”

You looked up at him, mischief playing in your own eyes. Capa wasn't the only one who could tease.

“Oh yeah? Only once more?” he prodded.

He reached up to push the hair out of his face, slicked down with the sweat of his exertion. But despite that, you could already feel him getting hard again.

“Well, maybe a few times,” you smiled.

You leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss.

#robert capa x reader #robert capa smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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staytinyville · 8 months

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Stay Alive (1)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N I am very excited for this story! It has a good amount of world building that I enjoy doing so much! I took inspiration from Stay Alive by Jungkook/Suga in case you guys didn’t know! The beginnings are of course slow but that’s how most stories are to build up the tension. I hopeful for this story and I hope you all like it! Please feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

People walk among the same earth constantly. However the thing that sets us apart is the path we all take. Sometimes it's the same, other times it's the opposite. Some of us are meant for higher things while some are meant to suffer until things start to look up for us all.

In a lifetime sometimes we won’t ever get the chance to see ourselves reach the peak we want. There are struggles we all face that will cause setbacks in the path we are taking. Only the ones who are strong enough to see the road to the end make it out alive.

There will always be those out there who will achieve their goals in life some way or another. Those are the ones who don’t allow those setbacks to dictate their entire life. And maybe along the way someone will come along to help you grow stronger. Whether it’s one person or a whole group. You will see to the end of your path one way or another.

“Most often than not you will be working on filing. If we are understaffed on a day, like today, we might send you in to write reports on the medicine we have already administered.” Suho, the lady who was placed as your preceptor, explained to you.

You had a grateful smile on your face, happy to finally get to start working. While it wasn’t the place you had been hoping for, you knew the pay was well for the kind of student debts you had. The pharmaceutical lab was meant to administer different kinds of medicines to the people who would sign up for a trial. They did the test on patients before they were given out to people.

While you were being placed on the front desk for the most part, you knew you would need to work your way up to the spot you wanted and you were more than happy to reach for it.

“What kind of medicine do you guys make?” You asked, trying to think about all that you had read on the company's website.

It didn’t really give much about what they focus on so you found it really odd that they were so wide when it came to the things they were trying to cure.

“You applied here and don't even know?” Suho frowned, looking at you appalled.

“I tried asking at the interview but they just gave me vague answers.” You explained. “The website doesn't tell you anything either.”

“We are very on top of the things we do here at HYBE.” She began to tell you. “There aren’t many people we trust to be hired onto the team so consider yourself lucky to be apart of it.”

“We make sure that our patients here are taken care of because we are a company that is trying hard to reach their goals. Because of that we are detail oriented when it comes to the patients we accept. Not just anyone can be a patient here.”

While she did a bit more about the kind of company you were working at, it still didn’t really tell you about what it was you were working for. You didn’t choose to question it, knowing that the paycheck they gave you was a luxury for a lot of people.

“Here are some of your patients for the day. They have already been given the medicine, it's up to you to check up on them for daily research.” You took the six files the lady handed you, nodding your head.

You placed them onto the small desk area they had given you before going through them to check on the appointment times and ordering them correctly. The first one on your list should be waiting in the lobby by now so you were quick to take the papers and move along to the waiting room.

“Mrs. Han?” You called, a smile on your face.

An older woman with a younger one came to a stand, slowly shuffling over to where you waited for them at the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Han. How are you today?” You asked politely, leading the two women towards the scale.

“I'm doing great! I'm so excited to share some news about the medicine you gave me.” The older woman exclaimed, a bright smile on her face.

You hummed, keeping the friendly look as you wrote down her weight on the paper. You told them to follow you to a patient room to speak to her privately.

“I see it was something for your dementia.” You spoke, moving the laptop in the room closer so you could take down everything the lady would tell you. “Is everything going okay?”

“It's wonderful!” The other lady exclaimed for her mother. At least you assumed it was her daughter from the notes that people already had written for you. Her daughter was the one who was in charge of all Mrs. Han’s things.

“You would not believe it but it's almost as though she's regressed in her illness! Mother was in a terrible state when she was offered this trial medicine. She took it and suddenly it was almost like she went back to before it grew to be terrible.”

You tried to write down what the woman was saying, but you knew there were more questions to ask before concluding the entire meeting.

“Maybe she can get back to normal if she takes more.” The daughter spoke in a hopeful tone.

“One step at a time, Mrs. Byun.” You kept the smile on your face so as to not let them think they weren’t going to find the help they needed. “We have to see how long this medicine will last first before giving her more doses.” You explained.

“Also, memory loss is nothing to be overly worried about if it's on occasion. Even I forget something's as well.” You told them.

If there was one thing you studied, it was medicine. You knew the consequences of taking too much or too little. This company was in the slow movement of developing them so they had to be careful about how they administered their projects. People probably came in thinking they could get more if they worked perfectly the first time. However these kinds of things were tests, not the real deal.

“Of course.” Mrs. Byun nodded in understanding.

The rest of the visit went by smoothly as you took down all the older woman’s rants and aches about the whole thing. With these kinds of surveys it was really about asking how each patient felt even if it was the smallest of things. You wouldn’t be able to tell if it had to do with the medicine or with something else.

As you told Mrs. Han and her daughter goodbye, scheduling the next appointment, the rest of you patient trickled in one-by-one.

There was a man who had come in for a bad liver–he was an avid drinker–so the medicine was for corrosion to that organ. While you really tried not to say something about it, you felt annoyed that the man had explained that he still had a drink every once in a while. He was like Mrs. Han, the medicine was doing wonders.

There was a child who had chickenpox, who’s mother explained that the rash that had taken over her son’s body was slowly dwindling down. Another lady who had come in for amnesia which only said that her memory was returning to before she had gotten into an accident. The others had external injuries like scrapes of their knees or a deep cut that needed stitches. From what you could see they were just given some sort of pain medication. They had expressed that their wounds didn’t hurt and it was actually healing at a fast rate.

“They really work with a lot of medicine.” You spoke to yourself as you looked over the last file you had. You frowned your eyebrows when you saw the patient was in another level of the building. It was the lower levels, which meant in the basement of sorts. From what you knew that was where the labs were.

“That's odd.” You tilted your head in confusion but made your way over to the elevators anyway. With your ID card, you pressed onto one of the underground levels, leaning back against the metal wall. When the doors opened, you were met with a lobby that had a couple of different doctors moving about.

Following the signs, you found the door that led to some of the rooms patients were stationed in. You showed the security guard your ID explaining you were in that level of the building to check up on a patient. He took a look at the file you had in your hand, humming as he opened a door to the back for you.

Overlooking the file once more to make sure you had the right number, you quietly counted the doors. As you passed by one, you felt a shiver go down your back causing you to halt in your tracks. The number three stared back at you as a weird feeling flowed over your shoulders. It felt like something was brushing up against them, pushing at your form.

You quickly turned back around making your way to the room next to it. You checked over the file one more time. It didn’t really give you much about the medicine the patient had been given. All it said was that they were someone who was meant to be staying in the building for better observation. There were a couple of papers that you seemed to be missing, you noticed.

Before opening the door, you knocked politely. “Hello?” You softly called as you stuck your head in.

The only light on was the bedside lamp which illuminated the dark room. You frowned at the aspect of there being no windows that would allow light from outside to come in. As you walked in closer, you let go of the door to have it shut by itself. “Mr. Jeon?”

“Who are you?” You gasped, nearly tripping on your feet from the hard flinch you felt take over.

You took in the man who was standing behind you, trying to regulate your breathing. He only looked at you with a raised brow, his expression passive. You took up his large form, noticing the blue scrubs he wore were almost tight around his physic. He didn’t wear any shoes–was even foregoing to wear socks.

“Oh,” You said as your breath returned to your lungs. “My name is (Y/N). Today is my first day so I guess I'll be your new nurse.” You explained to him.

“What are you doing here?” As he took a step closer to you, you subconsciously took one back. “You don't deserve to be here.” His voice went quiet as his eyes turned soft.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his worried expression, smiling awkwardly as you patted your hands to wipe the sweat forming on them.

“I needed a job. Got school debt to pay off.” You tried to joke with him. He looked too serious, which made you anxious to touch him for his vitals. “I'm here to do a check up. Would you mind?” You asked, trying to build up the courage to get close to him.

He didn’t say anything, just poked his cheek with his tongue, moving to the bed. You smiled in thanks, looking around the room to find the equipment needed. You purse your lips when you realize you would need to check his heart rate manually. Finding the padding needed to place around his arm, you made your way over to the man.

He flinched back as your hands moved to touch his arm, causing you to stop. “I’m going to check your heart rate.” You explained, remembering that you were the kind of person to make sure people knew what it was you were going to do.

As he kept his dark eyes on you, he allowed you to softly touch his scrub sleeve as you moved the fabric up to place the padding in the right area of the arm. You moved your stethoscope from around your neck. “It’s going to be a bit cold.” You whispered.

As you moved on with the check up, you watched the numbers on the dial move carefully counting to yourself. When you finished getting what you needed, you quickly let go of the air and moved the padding off his arm. As you did that, your eyes seemed to blur over the ink the man had.

Your fingers gently squeezed his bicep, softly moving down the length of his arm. Your gaze drifted over each color and picture the man had, trying to figure out where one picture ended and the next started. As your fingers glided over his pulse on his wrists, the man involuntarily shivered at the touch.

“Sorry.” You quickly pulled back, looking back up at him. “Your tattoos are really nice. I've never seen so many.” You bashfully smiled at him.

He only looked at you curiously, his big eyes taking in your facial expressions. It made you feel flustered as he looked at you so deeply, causing you to lick your lips and look away.

“You have a very strong heart. Very good blood flow.” You told him, turning away to write down his vitals. He slowly got off the bed and moved closer to you.

“It doesn't say which medicine you've been taking which is really weird.” You frowned, looking over all the papers that you were given. There were some things missing but you assumed the high ups were looking over it.

“You're different.” You jumped at the voice that spoke directly behind you. Turning around you tilted your head up at the man.

“How so?” You asked.

“You're nice.” The boy squinted his eyes at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

“Are the others not?” You frowned.

“Not the ones who come down here.” He told you.

You tried to quickly cover up your upset expression, looking up at the doe-eyed man with a smile. “Well I hope I'm able to come down here again.” You took up the paper you had written on. There wasn’t much explanation on what you had to ask him so you chose to go back up and see if you could figure out what else to do.

“Have a good day, Mr. Jeon.” You smiled brightly, waving from the door.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side as a warmth spread through his chest from your words. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't thinking about the dreaded place as though it was a sentence in hell. He had never met someone like you; someone who spoke to him as though he too was a person.

It made him light headed to think about the way your words affected him. He couldn't think of the last time someone had ever uttered those kinds of words to him. It had been so long-alone thinking this was what life was going to be like for the rest of his life. But suddenly things changed in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe.”

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 month

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in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader

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a-chaotically-small-lunta · 2 months

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Okay hear me out. Imagine a story where a scientist is leading a tour of kids through his lab, showing off all the inventions that will hopefully one day help humanity! In this tour is his son, who is very excited to be with his dad at his job, while also technically going to school? Win Win!! His dad has been a bit overprotective of him, but he sort of enjoys the attention. Although he isn’t too keen on his classmates who bully (perhaps one of the bullies is his brother or something) him for it, still poking and teasing him during the tour.

After awhile the dad shows off a portal machine which can open a portal to a whole new world, or at least that’s what they think it leads to anyway. The lab hasn’t fully tested it and is making a robot to send in first. The kids all ask if they can see it and the science team agrees as long as no one goes over the rails towards the portal, cause it seems to have a suction. (You can see where this is going I bet) The science team flips on the machine and the portal lights up, and while everyone is distracted the bully decides to have some fun, whispering into the Scientist kid’s ear something like “Maybe you’ll see your mom over there” or “Perhaps I should just take out trash like you. You’re just wasting dad’s time anyway” before the kid can really process what happens he is pushed over the rail into the portal, disappearing. The machine shuts off with a clunk and the dad is pissed. He is shouting at the bully about how stupid that was and how they have no idea if it’s even life sustainable on the other side! A guard nearby says that the kid is in real serious trouble for so many reasons, only for the dad to chime in that the bully better hope his kid is alive cause if he isn’t, he’ll get a murder charge. The bully explains he didn’t mean to only for most of the class saying that the bully always does this and one student even repeats what he said before he pushed the kid in. They decide to end the tour early and send everyone home, while the bully is escorted out by the guards and won’t be going home soon.

The science team asks what they’re gonna do and the dad says they’re gonna make something. Perhaps a suit or vehicle so that he can go into the portal and find his son. The team nods and quickly gets to work, they know it’ll take more than a few weeks, but maybe if they are lucky the kid will be okay, and maybe they can get it done faster.

Meanwhile, the kid flies through the portal and lands on a soft ground. Panicking he sits up and looks around, only to notice he’s on a huge bed. The portal sent him to a world that was way bigger than his own. Fear strikes him as he realizes where there is a big bed, there’s a big person. He’s right when he looks over across the room and sees a huge person sitting at a desk mumbling to themself. He’s frozen in fear and can’t move, even when the person swings around from their chair and walks over to their bed only to pause and stare at him.

The giant just stared at him, confused as to why there is a tiny child in their bed. They swear they didn’t put them there and are about to say something when the kid just burst out crying and the giant panicked. They quickly kneel by their bed and try to hush the child and tell them that it’s okay. The child keeps sobbing and soft hiccups can be heard, but eventually the kid quiets down a bit. The giant carefully asks how the kid got there, and the boy answers between sobs. The giant listens and the boy eventually bursts into tears again, crying out that they want their dad. The giant gently scoops them up, and holds them close saying “hey, hey, it’s going to be alright. You said your dad was a scientist…sooo he must have seen you get pushed in. I bet he’s trying to get back to you, he just has to figure out how to.” The kid sniffles and asks if the giant really believes that and they nod. They then reassure the kid that they won’t hurt them and that they’ll watch and care for them, until their dad comes to save them. The boy nods and the giant pauses and asks if he likes movies. The boy says yes and that he likes action like movies. The giant then decides that maybe they could watch a movie, to help the boy calm down, they’ll even let the kid choose the movie. He gets a little excited over this and the two of them go and do exactly that. Through this we learn that the worlds are almost identical, but some things are changed like Superman is Aceman, and Ice Cream is Frost Gel. All still the same thing, just named differently, which both the giant and boy find amusing.

The boy stays with the giant for little over a week, getting used to the large surroundings and the movements of the giant. The giant provides a small house to the boy, made of a box and Legos, which the boy had fun playing with and designing that part of the little home. In the other world the dad and his team finally finished the suit. It was built to survive space, acid, lava, and other possibilities. It had a backpack built into the back that held food rations, weapons, tools, and other things for survival. There was also the case, which contained all the parts for a small return portal back home. Which had been tested multiple times….just not cross dimensionally. The suit also had a built in camera that would send live video feed back to the team while the dad, who wanted to be the one who went through, was over there looking for his son. He’d also do some science stuff, like take samples and explore a bit.

The day finally arrives and the dad walks through the portal. He finds himself behind a large plush wall, and he starts to walk around it when he hears booming voices. Meanwhile the giant is laying in bed scrolling through their phone. The kid is sleeping in their little house for a quick nap. Then out of the corner of their eye they see something move out from behind their pillow. The dad looks up and catches the giant’s eye glancing at him. He freezes, and then grabs a weapon from the bag. This causes the giant to freak out and quickly flop out of their bed and onto the floor. The dad runs over and, using the mic in his suit, shouts “WHERE IS HE?!?!?” The giant, confused as hell, asks that the “crazy living action figure dude” please put down the weapon, while also asking what he means. The dad just shouts “IF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HIM I SWEAR I’LL..” the threat falls from his lips as the giant rises above him and cautiously walks over to the little house. They open the top and reach in, carefully waking the boy up and whispering that they have a surprise. The dad, still in a fighting stance, watches as the giant approaches with something in their hands. He’s about to fight, when the giant opens their hands and reveals his son, causing him to freeze. The boy pauses, not recognizing him cause of the suit, but once the dad rips the helmet off, the kid jumps off the giants hand and rushes to embrace his dad.

Both the kid and the dad just tightly hold onto each other as the giant just smiles softly, watching them. They then comment how much of a strong and loving dad the kid has and how the dad has such a brave and smart son. They both look up at the giant, who gives them a sweet smile. The dad explains they can go back home and the son is excited to tell his dad everything he learned about the place. The giant asks if there is anything they can do to help, which the dad asks if there is a safe place to setup a portal device somewhere that isn’t, well, a bed. The giant nods, and offers their hand to the pair. The son quickly hops on and the dad, carefully steps on after a bit of encouragement from his son. The giant takes them to their desk and says they can set it up in the free space near the wall.

After some time the portal is up and running and the dad has some samples, including a hair from the giant, and the small pair is ready to go home. The giant remarks that they’ll probably be seeing more of the tiny people, but says that they are welcome to visit. The boy hugs the giants hand and thanks them for taking care of them. The dad also thanks them for watching over his son, and says that he’s glad that the giant was the one to find his son. They take their leave and the story comes out in their world about what happens. The bully is still charged for some things, mostly messing with official government science stuff, but everything seems fine in the end. Plus the boy made an amazing friend, and the dad found someone he can trust to watch his son.

Anyway, basically what if a portal led to a giant world similar to our own, but it was discovered because some kids decided to mess with a kid. Resulting in the kid getting lost in that world, having to wait to be found or find a way back themself?

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t idea #g/t ideas #g/t thoughts #g/t thought #g/t story idea #I think it would be interesting to find a whole new world filled with giants #although if I found a tiny crying child in my bed I’d probably freak out #I’d have to calm them down and try and figure out how they got here and whether or not they were always tiny #it would be 100% worse if they happened to be from the same universe and the portal just shrunk them and sent them somewhere random #especially if you see the missing posters and think ‘wait I have them…how am I gonna explain their size?!?!?’#but if they’re from another world it’s more ‘oh okay. just smaller universe..okay okay…let’s figure out dimension travel then…I guess!!!’#either way I’d comfort them and definitely help or try and help them get back home #I’d just make sure that they were okay and watch over them…go all mama bear mode I guess haha #also sorry this got long and is basically a short story written shorter…a shrunken story hehehe

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