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formulauno98 · 1 year

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Once Upon a Time in Brazil | Chapter Ten

The press could be a useful tool in your game, but it could also be your worst nightmare. Unfortunately, Brazil was to bring about the latter alongside another bump in the road.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Spice is back. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys and girls) 🌶 Possible pregnancy

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

TUESDAY PM

In the run-up to the Brazillian Grand Prix, you’d spent a week back in the UK and were now in Miami for a few days, working on a sponsor event whilst Toto was in Los Angeles, meeting with a supplier. As ever, you felt like you were cursed to never be free from drama. Since your relationship had been outed, Lara had been on her best behaviour with you and had stopped with the sassy comments, however, it seemed as if it had all been a front.

Having travelled together on the jet from London, you had been dropped off in Miami on Tuesday afternoon, with Lara accompanying Toto alone on the plane between Miami and Los Angeles. It sounded simple enough but that’s when it all started to go pear-shaped.

Getting ready for the event and putting on your make-up in your luxurious hotel bathroom, your phone pinged, it was Toto.

Hi my love, I hope Miami is treating you well. We just got to LA, do you think it’s weird if I invite Lara to dinner? X

You’d replied, thinking it was harmless.

Hey, it’s gorgeous here, just getting ready for the event so nothing interesting, hope LA is fun.

Glad you got there safe and sound. I don’t think it’s weird, she’s by herself. X

You then didn’t hear from him before you left for the event and having been kept busy all evening, putting on your best charm offensive for the sponsor, you hadn’t had time to check your phone. By the time you were sliding into the backseat of the car that would take you back to your hotel, it was late and when you checked your phone you started to panic. Five missed calls from Toto, all within a few minutes of one another.

Worried, you’d immediately called him back but it had rang through to voicemail. It wasn’t until you’d gotten back to your room that a text pinged through.

Call me when you can, I know you are busy but this is serious.

It wasn’t like Toto to panic and it made you feel uneasy. Picking up your phone and dialling his number, he must have been waiting for your call as he picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N.” he said, his voice strained, “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey Toto, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“I don’t know where to start,” he said, his voice slightly crackly down the unstable connection, “Lara, she kissed me!”

Floored, you flopped down onto the sofa in your suite, “What?” you exclaimed.

“She kissed me!” he said, clearly freaking out.

“How? What?” you said.

“I invited her out to dinner and she came to meet me, all dressed up in next to nothing, and drank an entire bottle of wine to herself over dinner.” Toto said very quickly, “Then after we finished eating, she moved over to me, put her hand on my thigh and kissed me.”

Short of words, you managed a weak reply, “And did you let her?”

“Of course not!” said Toto, seemingly offended that you would imply that, “I didn’t know what to do. I threw her off, and then she started crying.”

“Fuck,” you said, rubbing your forehead. “What did you do?”

“Well by then half the restaurant was staring at us, so I put my arm around her and we left.”

“Toto!” you groaned, “How do you think that looks?”

“I know, but I didn’t know what to do!” he said exasperated. “I dropped her back to her room and she tried to pull me in.”

“Fuck, that’s wild.” you said, “Although I have to say, I’m not surprised. She’s always been so weird and protective of you.”

“I know,” he replied, sounding as if he was at the end of his tether. “I’m worried, there were photographers outside.”

“Fuck.” you said, “But I’m sure it will be fine, I’ll let Rosie know to keep an eye out.”

“Thank you. I am so sorry. I never thought she would do something like this. I thought she hated me because of the Ed incident.” he said.

“Hmm, I thought so too to be honest.” you said, “What are you going to do, report her to HR?”

“Honestly, I want to let her go asap but since we only have two races to go it seems silly.” Toto sounded defeated. It was a tricky situation, “I will talk to Pamela and see what she advises.”

“How about borrowing Sophie?” you asked, your assistant was well versed in managing your crazy schedule and since it was almost identical to Toto’s, it wouldn’t be a huge amount of extra work for her for the next three weeks.

“Do you think she would be up to the task?” asked Toto, “I want Lara gone asap, her behaviour was totally unacceptable.”

“Talk to Pamela, see what she says, maybe we can bump Sophie’s pay up this month for the extra workload?”

“Good idea.” he said, “I am so sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? It’s not like you slept with her.” you said, “You didn’t right?”

“God no!” said Toto.

“Well that’s that.” you said, “Where is she now?”

“I think back in her room,” said Toto.

“Fuck, I think you should call Pamela, it’s early in the UK but she’ll be up. You don’t want Lara coming on the jet with you to Brazil.”

“I don’t want her in Brazil at all,” said Toto miserably.

“Honestly what she did is sexual harassment, Toto, are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

“I know.” he said, “It’s so unacceptable.”

“When is your supplier meeting?” you asked.

“Tomorrow lunchtime.” he replied gloomily, “I will call Pamela now and sort this before.”

“Ok, let me know if I can help in any way,” you offered, “And I will call Rosie now.”

“I love you Y/N,” said Toto, still crackly on the dodgy line.

“I love you too,” you replied, “I’m so sorry for you, I’ll see you soon though.”

“See you,” he said before ringing off.

You’d never heard Toto sounding so dejected and it worried you massively. Sighing, you double-checked the time difference between Miami and the UK and seeing that it was quarter to eight in the morning, dialled Rosie.

“Morning Y/N, what’s up?” she answered almost immediately, sounding a little sleepy.

“Rosie, I am so sorry if I’m waking you up but we might have a PR disaster on our hands.”

Rosie groaned, “Good morning to you too. It’s okay, I was only snoozing.”

As you filled Rosie in on what had happened she was shocked but equally didn’t seem all that surprised.

“Right, so I will put out an alert on pap images of Toto, at least they weren’t at Craig's or somewhere,” she said, now wide awake.

“Thank you, Rosie, that’s true,” you said sighing, “I’m worried about him though, he’s shaken up.”

“Oof I would be too, Lara’s scary when she’s sober, I can’t imagine her trying to drunk kiss me.” said Rosie, “Don’t panic though we can spin it if anything does come out.”

Just as you were about to reply, your phone started buzzing, “Thanks Rosie, I’ve got Toto trying to call me on the other line, I’ll let you go and keep me posted.”

“No worries will do,” she replied, hanging up to allow you to answer Toto’s call.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound neutral and not panicked.

“Hi,” he said flatly, “I’ve spoken to Pamela, and she has arranged for Lara to return to the factory today. She’ll be flying commercial back to London and HR will let her know her contract is terminated.”

“Well that’s good news!” you said cheerily, “And what did they say about Sophie?”

“Pamela said we can share her, but you need to speak to her and check if she is comfortable with this.” Toto replied, “And as for Lara, the official line is that she is burnt out and needs to take some time off.”

“Okay,” you said, “That’s very generous of you, I’d be telling everybody.”

Toto sighed, “Until now she’s been an efficient assistant, I don’t want to ruin her career.”

“You’re much nicer than I am,” you said.

“I know,” he said, sounding slightly less glum.

“Ah there’s my cheeky guy,” you said.

“I try,” he replied, “Right, well I need to get some sleep, and you do too. I didn’t even ask you about the event. How was it?”

“All good, same old.” you replied, “You do need some sleep for sure, I will call Sophie now and let you know in the morning?”

“Okay, thank you Y/N.” he said, sounding down again, “I wish you were here.”

“I wish YOU were here!” you said, before adding, “I have a very large marble tub in my room, I think it might fit two.”

“Don’t tempt me,” said Toto, his voice low.

“I might have to, now I know women are throwing themselves at you,” you laughed.

“It’s not funny,” replied Toto, “Now you know how I feel.”

“What?” you said, in a more serious tone.

“Men are always checking you out,” he said.

“As if,” you snorted, surprised that Toto of all people was insecure.

“They do!” said Toto, “In Mexico, at the bar, the barmen were all staring.”

“That’s because they’re barmen,” you said bluntly, “Anyway, I’m not looking anywhere else and that’s what matters.”

“I hope so,” said Toto, “Right, now my eyes are heavy, you need to sleep too. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Sounds good, love you.”

“I love you too, sweet dreams,” he replied sleepily.

“Night,” you said hanging up.

Getting up from the sofa, you made your way to the bathroom to take your make-up off as you’d rushed in and not moved since Toto had initially called you.

Putting your phone on speaker you called Sophie as you wiped off the evening’s grime, Miami was so humid you always felt a mess after a night out.

“Morning Y/N! How are you?” came Sophie’s voice.

“Morning Sophie, I’m so sorry to call you early but I have a favour to ask,” you said.

“No worries at all, I’m just getting ready for work,” she replied, “What can I do to help?”

“Well, unfortunately, Lara has had to take an unexpected leave of absence.” you started, choosing your words carefully, “This means Toto has no EA for the last two races. Would you be open to supporting him for the next three weeks? I have spoken to HR and if you are agreeable we can double your salary for the month.”

“Oh my goodness,” Sophie replied, “I hope Lara is okay, should I message her? But yes I would be more than happy to help.”

“It’s probably better that you don’t,” you replied, “She’s okay but needs some time away from the business. That’s great news that you’re up to the challenge, I will have HR draft a temporary contract for you.”

“Oh,” Sophie replied, “Sounds good, when do I start?”

“From Thursday if possible, Toto is in LA meeting with a supplier but he will be joining us in Brazil on Thursday. Pamela has access to his diary so will share this with you, but honestly, it’s almost the same as mine,” you explained.

“Great, then I will chat with Pamela today and see you both in Brazil on Thursday,” said Sophie cheerily.

“Thank you, Sophie, Toto will be thrilled.”

“Thanks, Y/N, have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, have a good day!” you said, rubbing your eyes wearily as you hung up. Were you ever going to catch a break?

WEDNESDAY AM

You were woken up the following morning to yet another phone call. As you sat up in bed and reached for your phone you saw it was Rosie.

“Morning,” you said wearily.

“Hey, I am so sorry if I woke you up,” Rosie said, “Photos have come out and a few articles, sending them now.”

“Fuck,” you said, going into the chat to open the links Rosie sent.

WOLFF IN SHEEPISH CLOTHING, FORMULA ONE TEAM BOSS CAUGHT OUT ON THE TOWN WITH ANOTHER YOUNG COLLEAGUE

The article painted Toto as a womaniser, preying on younger colleagues, there were photos of him with a scantily clad Lara draped around him exiting the restaurant, followed up by the photos of you kissing him on the riverbank.

You felt sick, this was a PR nightmare. The next one wasn’t much better.

WOLFF BY NAME, WOLFF BY NATURE. FORMULA ONE BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY’S WILD NIGHT OUT

There were the same pictures, Lara falling over drunk, Toto with his arm around her.

“Fuck Rosie, this is really bad,” you said, leaning back onto your headboard.

“I know, I’m so sorry Y/N.” she replied, “What do we do?”

You took a deep breath, “I think we make a statement,” pausing to think, you added, “Although, is it not suspicious that paparazzi would know exactly where to find Toto on an unpublicised trip to LA?”

“I thought that,” said Rosie, “And the photos are super clear, they must have been waiting for him.”

“Do we know who took them?” you asked.

“No but I can find out,” Rosie said, determinedly.

“Yes, let’s find out before we make any statements.” you said before groaning, “Fuck Toto is going to be so upset.”

“I know.” said Rosie, “But honestly I think someone set this up.”

“I agree,” you said. “Right, I’m going to call Toto. Speak later.”

“Bye,” said Rosie.

Stealing yourself you hung up and dialled for Toto. It only rang for a short while before he picked up.

“Morning,” he said, sounding much more awake than you did, despite the fact he was three hours behind you.

“Morning, I hope you got some sleep in the end. I have some good news and some bad news, good news is Sophie has agreed to cover Lara for the next three weeks, the bad news is very bad.”

“Well that’s good.” said Toto flatly, “And what’s the bad news?”

Not sure how to broach the subject, “Now don’t go mad, but we have a slight PR disaster on hand.”

“Disaster?” Toto said, his voice raising a few octaves.

“Wellvenient.”

“Huh?” said Toto. “Fuck, the headline, the photos.”

“How would any paparazzi know you were in LA and that you were at that specific restaurant and be able to get photos that are so clear? Someone called them, and I would hazard a guess that it was Lara.”

“Fuck,” was all Toto seemed able to say.

“Indeed,” you replied, “Rosie is on it to find out who took the photos and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Ok great.” said Toto sharply, “Fuck, I have to meet this supplier in an hour. What are they going to think of me? What are my kids going to think of me?”

“I’m sure they won’t have seen it.” you suggested, not entirely convinced yourself, “And if they have, you tell them the truth.”

Toto snorted, “They will never believe me.”

“Honestly Toto, your kids know you’re not like that and after spending two minutes with you the suppliers will know you’re not the type”

“I’m not sure if that is a compliment or not,” he replied dryly.

“It is, trust me.” you said, “Look, don’t panic, we’ll smooth things over and get to the bottom of it. I won’t allow Lara to ruin your reputation.”, there are a few articles about you and Lara and they’re not good. Frankly, they’re shit,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Scheiße.” was all you got from the other end of the phone, “Will you send them to me?”

“Sure,” you said, forwarding Rosie’s links, “But before you freak out, Rosie and I were discussing this and we think you’ve been set up. It’s all a little too con

“It’s not as simple as that.” said Toto cryptically, “I need to get ready, I had better go.”

“Me too,” you replied, “I hope it goes well, text me if you need anything.”

“Okay, bye,” he said, hanging up without giving you to chance to say goodbye back.

You’d barely managed to start getting dressed for the day when your phone rang once again. Shaking your head, you paused applying your make-up and made your way over to where your phone was on charge.

It was Rosie ringing you back, hoping for good news you picked up.

“Hey Rosie, did you find out?” you asked eagerly.

“Kind of.” she said, “I’m sending you another link, there’s another article.”

“Good or bad?” you asked as you went back into the chat.

“Not the best, but I think it answers who was behind this. It’s a smear campaign.” Rosie said.

Reading the headline your eyes widened, SCANDAL IN THE PADDOCK: WOLFF SENDS GLAMOROUS YOUNG MISTRESS PACKING. LARA ASHTON, 25, LET GO FROM MERCEDES IN WAKE OF WOLFF AFFAIR.

“What the fuck?” you said, scrolling down through the article and accompanying twenty-something images of a tearful-looking Lara exiting Heathrow airport with her suitcase.

“I know.” said Rosie, “It has to be Lara, not being funny, no one even knows who she is.”

“I am going to kill her,” you said, your blood boiling. You disliked her on the best of days but now that she was trying to ruin Toto’s reputation you were livid.

“I know.” said Rosie, reassuringly, “I want to too.”

“What the hell do we do? This looks terrible,” you said, musing about what the best course of action was.

“I was hoping you would have some ideas,” said Rosie quietly, “In my opinion, we have to release a statement now.”

“I agree,” you said, “Fuck, Toto is going to be mortified.”

“Well the only good thing is, it’s Brazil in two days, this will get buried by the press surrounding the race,” said Rosie, hopefully.

“That’s true,” you pondered, “Although he’s in the Team Principal press conference on Friday. Christian will almost certainly bring this up. He takes any opportunity to embarrass or belittle Toto.”

“Ugh, I hate that man,” said Rosie. “Okay, so the Daily Mail are requesting a comment from Toto, should I entertain them.”

“I think yes,” you said, “Let me talk to Toto first though.”

WEDNESDAY PM

Having known that Toto was at the supplier lunch and you having had a meeting to attend, the wait to chat with him was agonizing. It didn’t help that people were texting you sympathetic messages as the story broke, thinking that Toto had cheated on you. You hadn’t replied to anyone yet but would do the rounds once you’d spoken to Toto.

When five o’clock came, you dropped him a text.

Hey, can I call you?

Almost instantaneously your phone pinged with a reply.

Yes, I’ve seen the latest article.

Fuck, you thought. Punching in Toto’s contact you waited with bated breath for him to pick up.

“Hello,” he said very sharply, not a hint of his usual charm present.

“Hi,” you said, “So you’ve seen it. It has to be Lara behind this, who the fuck even knows she exists outside of the paddock?”

“I know.” he said, “I’m angry at myself, why did I invite her to dinner?”

“Because it’s a normal thing to do and you’re a nice person. It’s not your fault she’s a psychopath.”

Toto was quiet on the other end of the phone, “What do we do?”

“I’ve spoken to Rosie and we think it is wise to release a statement.”

“Ok, saying what?”

“Saying that it was a mutual decision for her to take some time off after yesterday’s evening’s events as alcohol/drug abuse is strictly against company policy. We can spin it that you were concerned for her mental health and want her to focus on getting better.”

“And you think people will buy that?” asked Toto, not convinced.

“I can’t think of any other way to phrase it.” you said, “Brazil is happening in two days and quite frankly this sweeps it under the rug and shifts focus to the race.”

“That’s true. I just don’t understand why she would do something like this.” Toto said, at a loss for words.

“Me neither, I know she harboured a grudge over the Ed situation but this is an extreme way of getting revenge, unless…”

“Unless what?” Toto interjected.

“Unless someone has paid her off. Someone who was threatened by your threat of telling his wife about his mistress.”

“No, surely not.” said Toto, “He is an idiot but he wouldn’t go that far.”

“Hmm.” you said, “I think he would, I am going to request access to Lara’s phone and emails.”

“Can we do that?” asked Toto.

“Well how is Sophie supposed to do her job without access?” you said. “I’m going to call Pamela.”

“It’s worth a try.” said Toto sadly, “Look I don’t want to stay in LA now, I am going to come to you this evening and then we can fly to Brazil together tomorrow.”

“Of course, obviously I would prefer happier circumstances but I’ve missed you,” you said.

“I’ve missed you too, one day apart and I get myself in this mess.”

“It’s not your doing and realistically it was only a matter of time.”

“I suppose,” he said, “Okay, well I am going to pack and I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too, text me when you’re on your way,” you said, hanging up.

– – –

A few hours later, Toto had safely landed and was en route to your hotel. As dreadful as the circumstances were, you were looking forward to spending the night together as you hadn’t had time alone together since Mexico.

You busied yourself tidying your hotel room and had almost finished when there was a soft knock on your door. Toto.

Opening the door, you were shocked at Toto’s dishevelled appearance. The normally polished, suave gentleman had rings under his eyes, a crumpled shirt that looked as if an iron had skipped over it briefly and messy hair.

“Hey,” he said, stepping over the threshold, closing the door and embracing you warmly. This was a man who needed a hug and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Hey,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, “Everything’s going to be okay yeah?”

Stepping back and breaking the hug, Toto shook his head, “I’m not sure, Robert called me and he is furious.”

“Toto, I know you think highly of Robert but please remember he is not your boss, at the end of the day, you own more of the team than he does,” you said, folding your arms.

“I know,” started Toto, “But he is part of the bigger picture. We are fundamentally a marketing tool for him and if we get bad press, it doesn’t reflect well.”

“We will sort it.” you said before gesturing towards the sofa, “Come, sit down, do you want to order room service?”

Plopping down on the sofa, looking exhausted, Toto replied, “Maybe.”

“Oh my gosh, you are so not okay.” you said, settling down beside him and stroking his shoulder, “Lara is lucky she’s not anywhere nearby, if I could get my hands on her…”

“You and your temper,” said Toto, raising a small smile, “She’s not worth it.”

“That’s true,” you said smirking, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Right let's feed you up, then we’re getting in the tub and going to bed.”

“Why do I feel like a child?” groaned Toto.

“I’ve never seen you looking so down,” you replied, pulling him closer to you, “I don’t like it.”

“I have my moments,” he said wistfully. “You choose the food, I’m easy.”

“If you’re sure,” you said, raising an eyebrow, normally Toto was picky about almost everything.

“One hundred per cent,” he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

As you scrolled through the room service menu, your phone buzzed with a text. It was Rosie.

You were right, the paps were called to the restaurant by an anonymous tip that evening. What time did Toto and Lara arrive?

Pleased that you were getting to the bottom of the situation you broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between you and Toto, “What time did you decide which restaurant you were going to?”

“What?” said Toto, lifting his head from your shoulder, confused.

“Rosie has just said the paps were called by an anonymous tip. When did you decide to go to that specific restaurant?”

Toto’s eyes widened, “We didn’t, we tried to go to the place next door but couldn’t get in without a reservation. But as soon as we got a table Lara went to the bathroom. Do you think she called them?”

“Bingo, one hundred per cent,” you said. “Once I get her phone we can prove it once and for all.”

Toto smiled for the first time, before kissing you lightly on the side of your jaw, “You are brilliant.”

“Nah, this was all Rosie,” you said, proud of your colleague slash closest confident. You didn’t know what you’d do without her.

“Well she’s part of your team,” said Toto, “I still can’t believe Lara would do such a thing.”

“I can,” you said.

THURSDAY AM

Waking up in the cushy bed in your Miami hotel room, you were blissfully happy. You’d had a simple room service dinner with Toto, followed by a soak in the large tub before falling into bed together, sleeping contently in each other's arms. It was the first night you’d spent together where you’d not had sex and in a strange way, it had felt more intimate than ever before.

Rolling over, Toto still sound asleep, you took the opportunity to go through your text messages.

There was one from Bella.

Is everything okay? I’ve seen the news. Xx

You replied.

Yes, thank you for asking, poor Toto is distraught, Lara was drunk out of her mind and he was helping her into their car. Nothing untoward but now he doesn’t have an assistant. She’s on a leave of absence and Toto is back with me in Miami. Hope all is well at the track, we’re coming later today x

Next, there were a few messages from Sophie.

I’m sorry to ask this but the story about Lara and Toto. Is it true?

You carefully typed out a similar response to the one you’d just sent to Bella.

No worries, Lara had drunk too much so he helped her into their car. Nothing untoward happened but we have agreed it is best for her to take a break for now. Unfortunately, the press has spun this very strangely. We’ll chat properly later but in the meantime let me know if anything is unclear.

You went through the motions, replying to worried texts, a few more times before you felt the man splayed out beside you starting to stir.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly as he woke up.

“Morning,” you said, leaning over to kiss his neck before a strong arm reached around your middle and pulled you towards him, flush against his chest.

“What new shit show do we have today?” he asked, gently kissing you behind the ear.

“Nothing,” you said, “The good news is, I don’t think it can get any worse.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” he replied, “When do you get Lara’s phone?”

“Sophie is bringing it to Sao Paolo,” you said, “We’ll figure it out, hopefully before your press conference tomorrow.”

Toto groaned, releasing you and rolling over onto his back, bringing a hand to his temple, “I forgot about that.”

“It will be okay, the suppliers were none the wiser, it’s a certain type who read the trashy gossip columns.” you tried to reassure him, stroking his arm.

“Yes, the certain type is Christian,” he said miserably.

“Well if he says anything, you have the ultimate dirt on him,” you said, a dark look in your eyes.

“I have no proof though,” he said.

“That’s true, I’m sure we can figure something out,” you said, your mind going into overdrive.

THURSDAY PM

Touching down in Sao Paolo you were apprehensive. News of Toto’s alleged antics had spread like wildfire and despite the official line you had put out, you still had to field multiple comment requests. Trying to keep Toto out of the drama and allow him to concentrate solely on the impending race, you and your team were putting out fires everywhere.

The one saving grace was that once you had filled your team in on the truth of the matter (at least the official line), they were understanding and had rallied around Toto, loyal to a tee. He was grateful for the support and by the time you were on the way to your hotel, he seemed much more himself.

Most importantly, as you sped towards your destination, you were finally about to get your hands on Lara’s phone.

– – –

Although your assistant Sophie sometimes annoyed you with her boundless pep and enthusiasm, you were over the moon to see her standing in the hotel lobby awaiting your arrival. You had asked for Lara’s phone on the pretence that Toto needed to check some emails that he’d been dropped out of the loop on.

“Hey Y/N, hey Toto.” she said, greeting you both warmly, “How was the flight?”

“Good thank you, Sophie,” said Toto wearily, “How was yours?”

“Good thanks, we arrived earlier this afternoon. The hotel is amazing!” she said, ever-bubbly.

“Ah I’m glad to hear that,” you said, “I forgot it’s your first time in Brazil, make sure you get to the beach.”

“We’re hoping to on Saturday.” she said, “Oh and before I forget, I have Lara’s phone and laptop for you.”

As she handed you the Mercedes-branded tote bag, you struggled to contain your excitement, “Oh wow, her laptop too?”

“Yes, Pamela said I should bring both, I hope that’s the right thing to do?” she said, looking worried she’d misstepped.

“Absolutely not, this is perfect,” Toto said beaming, “Thank you, Sophie, I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Me too,” she replied, “I have your schedule for tomorrow printed out and will leave it on your desk first thing in the morning. If anything changes, I will update it and send it straight to you.”

“Perfect, thank you, Sophie,” said Toto, pleased with her attention to detail.

“I had better let you both get checked in,” she said, shuffling to make a move, “I’ll see you on track tomorrow.”

“See you Sophie, and thank you again!” you said.

“See you,” she said, waving goodbye.

– – –

Having checked into your respective rooms, you immediately joined Toto in his suite and settled down on the sofa to go through Lara’s emails and phone log.

It didn’t take you long to scroll back to the night before last. “Oh my God!” you exclaimed having found what you were looking for almost immediately.

“What?” he said, looking up from where he was perched at the desk, furiously typing on his iPad.

“She called a US number at eight o’clock on Tuesday night.”

“The photographer?” Toto asked.

“I assume, wait, hang on, there are multiple calls to and from another UK number in the run-up. She hasn’t got it saved as a contact.”

“Are there any messages or just calls?” Toto said, putting his iPad down and crossing the room to sit beside you.

“Fuck, yes!” you said, hitting the jackpot. “Oh my God.”

“What?” asked Toto, craning his neck to read the phone.

There it was, in blue bubbles, the plot to take down Toto’s reputation.

(10:02) I’m just on the plane to Miami, once we get rid of bitchface, it’s on.

(10:15) Amazing. And the cameras are set?

(10:21) Yes, the guys put them in my room.

“Fuck, she had cameras in her room?” Toto asked, his eyes widening.

“Sounds like it,” you said.

Scrolling through the messages it transpired that whoever was plotting with Lara had been planning for a long time, biding their time until you were out of the way to honeytrap Toto. As well as ensuring the paparazzi were at the restaurant, they’d rigged Lara’s room with cameras and the plan was to get him drunk and into her room, seduce him and videotape the whole thing.

Seemingly they hadn’t considered that Toto wouldn’t want to and the messages after he had rejected her were even more interesting.

(01:34) He wouldn’t come in!

(1:41) What the fuck is wrong with that man?

(1:42) I don’t know, what do we do?

(1:43) Leave it to me babe.

“Babe?” you said, “They’re definitely British.”

“How do we find out who it is without them knowing?” asked Toto.

“Hmm,” you said, thinking on your feet, “I know! I’ll check WhatsApp, they’ll have a photo!”

Exiting iMessage and moving to WhatsApp your jaw dropped when you found the contact. It was a photo of the Red Bull car.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, “Those fuckers!”

Toto looked livid, “Who is it?”

“Look,” you said, handing him the phone, “Red Bull. I don’t know who but it’s someone from their team.”

Toto looked thoroughly shaken up, “I’m going to call my lawyer. Keep the phone for now.”

“You’re going to call your lawyer?” you raised your eyebrows, “That’s serious.”

“This is serious, this is slander.” said Toto bluntly, “Put yourself in my shoes.”

“I know, I know.” you said, “Fuck, this is insane.”

FRIDAY AM

Yesterday had been a whirlwind and as you arrived at the track, you felt off. Emotions were running high and Toto had been preoccupied with legal matters all evening so had barely given you the time of day. You knew this was important but couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt by the cold shoulder he’d given you. You’d ended up returning to your room to sleep as he took calls into the early hours and you hadn’t slept a wink. It didn’t help that you felt nauseous and dizzy, perhaps a result of the fact you’d hardly eaten since landing in Brazil.

Lying awake had allowed you to delve deeper through Lara’s phone. Reading the long message exchange, it emerged that she had met this mysterious Red Bull employee at a party last year and had been chatting for some time before the conversation had turned to how much she hated her boss. Together they’d formulated a plan to ruin his reputation and in the process the team. It was incredibly devious and you couldn’t quite believe what you were reading.

Making sure to screenshot everything for Toto’s legal team, you suddenly felt extra nauseous and had to hotfoot it to the bathroom, only just making it in time. Shaking you shot a text to Sophie.

Good morning Sophie, thank you again for yesterday. I’ve woken up not feeling very well, could you please check in on Toto when you arrive at the track? I will come along later.

Covering all bases, you sent a few more texts to your team, ensuring they all knew what they needed to do in your absence. Knowing that he was stressed as it was, you refrained from telling Toto, texting him a simple good morning.

– – –

A few hours later, you found yourself lying on the long sofa in the hospitality area, one eye on your emails and one eye on Free Practice. Sophie had been a superstar, rallying around the team and diligently checking up on them on your behalf.

Steeling yourself to get up, you sipped a ginger ale (the only thing that seemed to help) and propped yourself up. Toto’s press conference was due to start after Free Practice and it was the one task you had to be present for, sick or not.

Toto’s legal team had advised against discussing the press matters within the conference, something which would undoubtedly be difficult with Christian Horner present. He always loved to stir the pot and this scandal was likely the stuff of his dreams.

Making your way down to the garage to collect Toto, you were nervous on his behalf. As smooth as he was with media appointments, this was a tough situation for even the most seasoned professional. He was sat in his usual spot in the garage, flanked by several senior engineers, deep in discussion.

Spotting you approaching he made his excuses, putting his headset down and crossed the garage to greet you.

“Is it already time?” he asked, looking unsure of himself.

“I’m afraid so,” you said grimacing, leading the way towards the press area. “I’m hoping we’ll be the last ones in, doesn’t give them a chance to say anything stupid.”

Toto’s nervous energy was palpable and as you got nearer you turned to him, “It’s going to be fine, like we said, we’re not going to mention anything that the legal team are working on. You just focus on the race and ignore anyone who tried to bring anything else up, okay?”

“Easier said than done,” he said wistfully.

Luckily you were the last ones to arrive with Toto only receiving some curious looks from his counterparts as the hostess dived straight into the press conference, asking each Team Principal one by one their approach for the weekend. Professional as ever Toto answered flawlessly, expressing his hopes for another strong turnout from the Mercedes team.

Unfortunately, everything began to fall apart as the floor was opened for questions.

“This one’s for Christian,” called out an English-accented voice from the depths of the crowd.

“Yes,” Christian replied, grinning smarmily.

“We all know that your rivalry with Toto is unmatched, do you think his colourful personal life has been his downfall this season?

Toto looked enraged as Christian smirked. “Now, I don’t want to speak ill of my counterpart. I think a smart man knows to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. What’s the saying, you don’t shit where you eat?”

Laughter rumbled through the crowd, Toto looking furious stayed silent.

“Right.” said the hostess awkwardly, any other questions?

Another hand shot up, “Yes, for Toto.”

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever shitshow this would be.

“What difference do you think the upgrade package will make this weekend?”

You sighed with relief as Toto answered with perfect composure. It was only when the crowd shifted slightly that you saw it was Tom, your ever-loyal Partnerships Manager, who had asked the question, wearing a non-branded shirt to blend in with the journalists.

A few more questions went back and forth with the other Team Principals before Toto was once again in the firing line.

“Toto, it seems like you’ve been having a lot of fun away from the track, will you be hitting the town tonight?”

Toto looked angry once again, replying curtly, “Our focus as a team is on the race ahead.”

With Christian still smirking away, he interjected, “C’mon Toto, that’s a politician’s answer, answer the man!”

Whipping his head around Toto replied, “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”

“Ooh, I touched a nerve there I think,” said Christian, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Watch out ladies of Brazil, Toto’s on the prowl.”

The hostess looked deeply uncomfortable and tried to diffuse the tension with a flustered, “Well thank you, everyone, that’s all we have time for.”

Never one to let an opportunity slide, Christian replied smugly, “Such a shame, I was enjoying that.”

Toto stared daggers at his Red Bull rival as the hostess signalled the end of the press conference. Rushing across to Toto, your priority was to get him away from Christian before he said anything he might regret.

“Oh, I’m surprised to see you here Y/N.” said Christian, “I heard there’s trouble in paradise.”

“You’re a fine one to talk Christian,” you said, Toto looking positively enraged beside you but knowing better than to say anything.

Christian chuckled, “Well I’m not stupid enough to get caught.”

“Let’s go Y/N,” said Toto, grabbing the crook of your arm, “Don’t engage.”

Christian smirked as you made your exit.

“I hate that man,” you said as you rushed back through the paddock to the garage.

“You say this far too often,” said Toto, smiling for the first time in a while.

“I know, I need to let it go blah blah.” you said, squeezing his arm discreetly as you walked alongside him, ��To be honest that wasn’t so bad.”

Toto looked unconvinced, “Maybe for you, I look like a dirty old man.”

“But you’re my dirty old man.” you said with a smirk, earning a withering glance from Toto, “I’m joking, it was fine. It will be old news by tomorrow trust me.”

“I hope so.” he said, “Can I see you tonight?”

Surprised he was being so formal, you replied, “Yes, you see me pretty much every night.”

“I didn’t last night and the night before was different.”

“The last few days have been weird.” you said, “I’ll make up for it tonight.”

Toto’s eyes flashed, understanding what you were letting on, “Is that a promise?”

“If you’re nice to me,” you said teasingly.

“I’m always nice!” he said, coming to a stop as you reached the garage entrance.

“Keep telling yourself that, dirty old man. I’m going to head to my office so I’ll see you later,” you said with a wink.

“You’re terrible.” said Toto, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later.”

SATURDAY AM

The last few days' pent-up frustrations had indeed made for an exciting night with Toto. Gone was the dejected shell of a man who had turned up at your door in Miami. Perhaps his discussions with the legal team had bolstered his confidence, or it was the fact that the upgrade packages seemed to have worked wonders, but whatever the reason, Toto was more confident than ever.

You’d barely gotten through his hotel room door when he’d pinned you up against the wall, bringing your arms up above your head and holding them there as he kissed you more passionately than ever before. Pressing his body up against yours he ground his increasing hardness into you, bumping rhythmically as his hands explored your stomach and breasts. It wasn’t long before he scooped you up in his arms, one leg either side of his thick torso, effortlessly carrying you over to the bed.

Throwing you down onto the mattress forcefully, you would have bounced back up if he hasn’t dived straight on top, making quick work of slipping off the floaty sundress you’d put on for the evening, revealing your new lingerie set. It wasn’t dissimilar to the one you’d been wearing on the day he’d walked in on you changing, equally transparent and delicate, except that it was yellow.

“I haven’t seen this before,” he said, his voice low with lust. “I like it, maybe we leave it on?”

You smirked, knowing he’d like the racy set, “Tonight we do whatever you want, you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I’m a lucky guy,” he said, diving down to plant kisses along your jawline and neck, working his way up to behind your ear.

“I’m a lucky girl,” you said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his muscular torso. “But this has to go.”

“Sorry,” he said blushing, leaning up on his arms as he divested his shirt and shorts, leaving only his boxers.

“And the boxers too,” you smirked, pulling at the waistband. “I want all of you.”

Your words sparked some kind of frenzy as Toto tore them off, leaning down to kiss you deeper than ever before, his hands making their way lower to discover you were already turned on and ready to go. Once again coming back up to rest on his forearms, glancing down at you with his chocolate brown eyes, he pulled your underwear to one side and thrust in with no warning.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, not quite expecting that, taking a moment to adjust to the full feeling.

Suddenly his lust had turned to concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Smiling, you caressed his face, “It’s okay, it feels good. Just took me by surprise.” you adjusted yourself before leaning up to kiss him once more, melting into his embrace as he started pushing in and out gently.

He grinned, picking up the pace, reaching down in between you to play with your clit, knowing it would drive you wild.

“Fuck, yes Toto,” you said as he continued plunging into you.

Withdrawing wordlessly, he picked up your hips and flipped you over onto your hands and knees, removing your underwear before standing behind you as he thrust back in ruthlessly. Hitting you from this angle you could feel your orgasm quickly building and it wasn’t long before you were on the brink of falling apart.

Continuing to push in and out, he pushed you down further onto the bed, collapsing your arms, removing your bra and deftly cupping your breast with one hand whilst the other grabbed one of your hands in his. He slowly guided your hand down to your lower stomach, covering your hand with his and pushing down just enough for you to feel him as he moved in and out of you.

“Do you feel?” he asked breathily.

You could barely get words out as you were getting closer and closer to completion but managed to utter, “Yes, I love it when you’re inside me.”

Your words seemed to affect Toto on a visceral level as he growled, speeding up as he lost himself in the moment. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself fall off the edge, clenching down on Toto as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, Toto,” you said, as he grabbed your hips tightly, driving into you deeply a few more times before expertly pulling out, moaning as he came on your lower back.

– – –

It had been a frenzied exchange and as you woke up next to a peaceful-looking Toto, you made a mental note to let him fuck out his frustrations more often. He’d been through the wringer this last week and he’d let it show.

Letting Toto snooze a little longer, you crept out of bed to make yourself a ginger tea, hoping to once again quell the nausea that just wouldn’t shake. Trying to be as quiet as possible, standing up hadn’t helped the situation and once again you had to dash to the bathroom, only just making it in time.

Unfortunately, your wretching had woken up Toto who had knocked gently on the door, “Are you okay?”

Easing up you managed to reply, “Yes, just not feeling so great.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Quickly flushing the toilet, you replied, “Sure,” Still feeling ill, you continued to kneel in front of the toilet.

Rushing in, Toto bent down to your side, putting an arm around you in concern. “Oh, you poor girl. Do you think it was the food from last night?”

You managed a weak reply, “Maybe, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay for now,” he replied as you wretched once again. Ever the gentleman, he held your hair out of harm’s way and rubbed your back. “It’s okay, just let it out.”

The nausea finally dissipating, you flushed the toilet once again as Toto handed you a tissue.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said, hoping he wasn’t completely disgusted by the morning’s turn of events.

“Don’t be silly, it happens to us all,” he said, squeezing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t think you should come to quali like this.”

You frowned, “It’s fine, I feel better, like you said, it’s better out than in.”

Toto’s brow furrowed in concern, “But I will worry about you.”

“If I feel sick again, I’ll come back to the hotel, but the team needs me there,” you said bluntly, thinking back to yesterday’s sofa set-up.

“If you’re sure,” he said, not convinced. Grabbing your hand and getting you back on your feet he pulled you towards the bedroom area, “Come on, I’ll make you a tea.”

“Thank you,” you said, surprised by how unphased he was. “Sorry again.”

“Stop apologising!” he said as he busied himself re-boiling the kettle.

SATURDAY PM

Post-qualifying the garage was once again in a celebratory mood, Lewis having qualified P1 and George P2. As happy as you were for the team, you were also secretly pleased that as Rosie had predicted, the good results would bury the Toto and Lara stories in the press.

As the team milled around you, you suddenly felt another wave of nausea and bolted for the fresh air of the paddock. Knowing you were not going to make it back to the hospitality area in time, you ducked into a bathroom next to one of the bars where once again you found yourself hunched over a toilet bowl. To make matters worse you felt dizzy, and as you stood up you felt your vision blurring.

You must not have been out for more than a few seconds when you woke up on the toilet cubicle floor, someone knocking on the door.

“Y/N?” called out a familiar voice. It was Rosie.

Carefully getting up, you replied, “Hey,” opening the door to reveal a worried-looking Rosie outside.

“Are you okay? You didn’t look very well again and you’ve been in there a while.”

You groaned, “I passed out.”

Rosie’s eyebrows shot up, “Fuck, we should take you to the medical building!”

“I’m fine Rosie, honestly, I think I just ate something bad,” you said, trying your best to composite yourself in the mirror. You looked rough, a sheen forming across your face.

“I think you should go anyway,” Rosie said folding her arms.

Knowing she wouldn’t give in you sighed, “Sure, I guess it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m walking you there though, just in case. I don’t want you passing out in the paddock,” said Rosie firmly, making you roll your eyes.

– – –

Sitting nervously in the medical examination room you waited for the nurse to come and check you over. After much protest, Rosie had left you alone, on the condition that you would call her to come and collect you.

“Good afternoon Y/N, how are you?” said the nurse as she entered the room.

“Hi, I’ve been better not going to lie,” you said.

“Indeed, your colleague told me that you passed out? Have you experienced any other symptoms?” the nurse asked, sitting in the chair opposite you.

“I’ve been feeling dizzy for a while now and have been throwing up quite often,” you admitted.

“Is there a chance you could be pregnant? When was your last menstruation?” said the nurse, raising her eyebrow.

You went white. Of course, like every woman the possibility had been at the back of your mind, but you and Toto had been careful since your slip-up in France, and besides, you’d had a period recently.

“A small chance but probably not.” you said, “I had my last period three weeks ago, it was a little lighter than normal but otherwise all good.”

“Hmm.” said the nurse, “I think we should get you a test anyway, just for peace of mind.”

As she busied herself rummaging through the drawers at the back of the room, you reflected on the possibility. You wanted children at some point but you’d never discussed this with Toto and since he already had two you weren’t even sure if he’d want more.

“Here you go, if you take this cup to the bathroom and fill with urine to this line, we can get a definitive answer.” the nurse said kindly, handing you a small plastic cup.

“Thanks,” you said bluntly.

– – –

Having done what the nurse you’d made your way back, cup full and were now waiting for a small strip of paper to determine your fate.

“Well, we have our answer,” said the nurse, “Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Fuck. What on earth were you going to do?

#formula one x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 x reader #onceuponatimein...

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heartshapedbubble · 1 year

Note

Hi love. Hope you're doing well. I was wondering if you would be ok with some general Frederick and/or Helena headcanons for the birthday requests. Hope you have a nice day and thank you for your content 🥰💕💕

hello and i am, thank you sm! 💓💓 you've just requested both of my faves (for the first time too on here too) so who am i to deny🤲

helena adams and frederick kreiburg general/random hcs👁🎼

helena adams👁

first of all, i hc her as american (not CAWWWW MURICA🦅💥🦅💥🦅💥 (well now that i think about it...) american, but rather mid-atlantic accent american. yeah. the early 20th century american) and obviously quite short, standing around 158cm (~5'2") and being of a bit chubbier, pear shaped build

i'd say that she's a pretty picky eater honestly. she really likes eating sweet foods and is used to the food that's generally on her repertoire at home, so eating out makes her feel a bit anxious since it's a whole different way of preparing food (and whole different dishes/meals, after all) and she's worried that it might have the wrong texture and that it's not going to taste as well as it does at home. she'll always give it a try before judging it though!

it's been made quite obvious in the previous hc but helena loves routine and needs it to function. she only feels completely calm once all the furniture in the house is at the same place it usually is and when her duties/tasks are organized throughout the day. although the manor forced her to adjust to an unpredictable lifestyle, she kept on doing some of the "rituals" she did at home to feel more at ease

definetly has gotten education in the music field! poetry and music go hand in hand, so i'm sure she at least had singing lessons or listened to a lot of classical music growing up. she is very knowledgeable on the topic and can quickly analyze any given composition

prone to meltdowns when she's very, very upset. she bottles it up 99% of the time and hides it well, but sometimes she just snaps and it results in a very self-destructive meltdown. she's a calm person in reality, so if you've managed to anger her you seriously had to fuck up BIG time

she dislikes getting any pity because of her disability, she knows that once her teacher and her father pass away she'll have to be able to stand up and fight for herself. and hell, she has been living like this since infancy, she's prepared for a lot of situations! might occassionally accept some gentlemanly aid, but anything else is a no, thank you. despite her short stature she is incredibly stubborn and strong willed, never giving up even when it seems the most reasonable option

frederick kreiburg🎼

slim and of proper posture, frederick stands at 175cm (~5'9") tall and is of austrian descent

very paranoid about cleanliness and keeping everything tidy, refusing to take off his gloves unless necessary

he likes piercings very much! has a double helix piercing on one ear, an industrial on the other and snake bites, he's not sure why he's so fond of them but it's probably because they're (usually) not very flashy, easy to remove and safe (as long as the piercer is experienced)

very thick body hair/hair in general and has a greek nose!

not incredibly talkative, and when he does talk he often drifts away mid conversation and gets easily disturbed by the background noises or chatter - has a very light lisp and sometimes struggles with pronouncing english words as it's his second language and he was forced to learn it during his homeschooling program, fred's kind of insecure about it so it's one of the reasons he doesn't talk a lot

uses a cane to support himself as he limps, the reason behind it is that some other health problems of his built up over time and resulted in him struggling to walk and becoming exhausted quickly - being frail and sickly all of his life took a serious toll on him and his mental health, constantly making him paranoid about becoming seriously ill and even resulting in a lot of early gray hairs

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theviceadmiralswife · 4 months

Text

Onigumo x reader fanfiction

Salute recruits and soldiers to this thunderbird Tuesday

⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️🌊⚓️

I'm still upset I lost the little smut story of Onigumo so here we go write it yet again.

Please if you feel unsafe at any point in the story or triggered, stop reading or skip to the last 2 paragraphs.

Image AI generated.

I APOLOGISE ITS SOOOO MUCH LONGER THEN I THOUGHT 😳

So here we go SMUT WARNING ⚠️, 18+ , NSFW, slight sadism, kink , fetish, arranged marriage, abuse, emotional control, bdsm

Happy birthday my sadist husband

It was late when Onigumo returned home, he didn't bother to turn on the light he would leave in the morning anyways. The tip of his cigarette lit up the dark and on the dining table he saw a covered plate a glass and a bottle of whisky. A card with his name on... darn it he had just some nice supper and a drink with Doberman and Dalmatian. A premature party for his birthday since a new mission started tomorrow. His scowl deepened, his wife, no no , the woman he has been arranged to marry by his grandfather Saint Saturn. A meager average , short female, curvy pear shaped body, she was probably born into servitude, and that was what she was good for in Onigumos eyes. Who knows who cares? Not him, but it made his blood boil...this arranged marriage a facade to keep the family name uphold and valuable.

Well and to sire some offspring.. Onigumo growls annoyed

And in this moment movement on the sofa, Onigumo turns on the small lamp beside the sofa.

Y/n was stirring and waking up slowly she sees Onigumo and stares at him like a deer in headlights.

"Woman what are you doing here?! We have rule, after 9 pm you are to stay in your room and not get out until I call you!!", Onigumo snarls harshly at her. Y/n flinched as she shoots of the sofa , standing in front of Onigumo she bows down slightly. "I prepped you a meal...and..and I wished to be the first one to congratulate you on your birthday", she stammers. "DO YOU THINK I CARE HARLOT!", Onigumo shouts angry.

Onigumo grabs her by the hair dragging her up the stairs into his bedroom.

As soon as he opens the door he gets a shock his bed draped in black sateen bedding, candles were lit up and gave it romantic aura...

He scoffs annoyed and tosses y/n onto floor, she hisses at his rough treatment. It hurt y/n less physically but more emotionally that Onigumo was a giant sadistic asshole, almost 3 ft taller then her. And didn't matter what she excelled at he never showed a sign of pleasure or enjoyment of her company or the little treats like this...

Onigumo growled as he takes off his vice admirals coat, he was pissed. What was she thinking?! "Gotta care to explain this bullshit, my room is strictly off limits to you!". Y/n sits up, her morning robe covering her body accept her feet. "It's.. its your birthday tonight...and I...I...I.. know what you like and I wanted to surprise you.. I know you don't like me ...the..the way I do you..", she explains intimidated by Onigumos dominant aggression.

Onigumo burst out in a sarcastic laughter :" Hehehaahah are you...saying..you like me..hahaha.. woman ..you lost the plot since I was out on a mission!". His gaze becomes cold and he glares at her devilish and predatory. Onigumo unleashed his spider appendages from his hair and roughly pins y/n shouting at her :" No matter what reason...YOU aren't allowed in my room...EVER!". Y/n flinched once more closing her eyes and avoiding his gaze. "And speaking of knowing what I like..... ", Onigumo looks around at the candles laughs before he continues to speak cynical and vicious," ...you are so far off as if you never met me at all..the complete opposite". He grabs y/n chin harshly forcing her to look at him , with a sadistic smirk he grins at her. Onigumo opens his pants, he had seen y/n naked as he forcibly took her during the wedding night but he didn't bother to get undressed his thick extra veiny cock was all he needed for her.

His appendages tighten their vice grip on her wrist and ankles, pinning her so much harder against the wall. And while Onigumo opens his zipper, two of his appendages slip under the morning robe.

"Oh you little bitch ...its just gonna be like our wedding night all fun for me and plenty of pain for you!", he chuckles maliciously. Y/n breathing hitches up and her heart pounds in her chest and then....Onigumo felt with his appendages her soft skin of her thick thighs but then something else.. something he kind of knew...

Onigumo glares down at y/n :" What the fuck.???.". He slowly let's y/n down onto the floor, she stands up on shaky legs. He sneers at her "Explain yourself!", Onigumo sounded vicious as ever but also a hint of surprise, his body is raging with anger yet there is a stinging sensation in his chest.

"Is ..is it midnight yet..??", y/n asked shy. "YES FOR GODS SAKE!", Onigumo yells. She flinched , she looks at Onigumo with tears in her eyes as she slowly opened her morning robe, y/n drops it to the floor exposing her short curvy body tightly packaged in a black leather harness. The straps fitting her curves perfectly squishing a bit skin, a garter belt, hip restraint , rings to attach cuffs decorative chains draped over her breasts with her hard nipples sticking out.

Onigumos cock went rock hard twitching for her body. Y/n blushes at Onigumos obvious arousal.

She bites her lip "Happy birthday Onigumo my sadist husband!", she kneels down in front of Onigumo and offering him a collar and leash she had placed on the night stand.

Onigumo chuckles amused and aroused , he circles around y/n inspecting her kneeling body like he inspects a piece of meat for dinner. "Hehehe well well the bitch has actually talent to serve her master as a slut!". Y/n shows her feelings of hurt at his words , Onigumo was so twisted he enjoyed this the most raising hope but then destroying it mercilessly. Onigumo snatches the collar of her hands and tightens it around her neck he clicked in the leash and pulled y/n up onto her feet.

"But just because you did well doesn't mean you can skip your punishment!", he says menacingly. Onigumo throws y/n onto the bed face down. "STAY THERE!", he orders as he gets a wooden paddle out of a drawer.

As he turns around y/n was still on the bed his eyes catched the sight of her butt cheeks round and juicy, perfect for punishment. There was that sting in his chest again, chills of arousal hit him and his cock twitches with excitement. Onigumo grabs the leash pulling do hard y/n head bend backwards he raised the wooden paddle and brings it smashing down on her ass.

Y/n " Mnnggnn", her face shows pain but she tried to suppress the screams

"My room is off limits understood !", Onigumo said coldly, he smacks her ass again 3 more times each time harder.

"YYYESS understand", y/n shouts in pain. Onigumo grins and smacked her once more, it turned him on to have her in pain.

"Onigumo I only wanted to surprise you..I didn't mean to disobey. ", she whimpers. This infuriated Onigumo extremely, he grabs a fistful of her hair and keeps spanking her , but this time faster more aggressive. "SHUT UP!", he yells as the paddle smacked her ass again leaving more deep red Marks on her ass cheeks. Y/n screams. "Thats it slut. Scream tremble in fear of me!", he roared. "I..I...know you're unhappy being forced to marry me Onigumo....i know you like to be in control...", she whimpers. "Damm straight Im in control!", Onigumos appendages pin her into the bed and he got rid of his clothes. Before y/n could continue to speak he smacks her ass full force. Then his harsh hands grab her butt cheeks and he rams his cock into her pussy not waisting a minute to gain pleasure. To Onigumos surprise his wife's cunt was tight yet hot and wet ready for his dick, so willing.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah", y/n screams louder.

Onigumo laughs menacingly " Now thats something!", he grabs a fistful of her hair yanking up her head," Looks like my little slut is a bit of masochist...you like the pain".

"No...Onigumo...", she winces, as he thrusts his cock with even more aggression into her, his crotch slapping against her ass cheeks. "Silence woman you do!", Onigumo snarled as he bites into the crook of her neck. His tongue flicks aggressively against her skin, he grunts aroused, as his veined cock pounds her cunt mercilessly. Y/n gasped and whimpers "Onigumo... I know..ggng.. I know you hate our marriage..". "Shut it, even if your right!", Onigumo hisses into her ear. Y/n places her hand on his head...a dangerous move. "WOMAN!", Onigumo growled. She whispers under his rough thrusts in her dripping pussy. "I know you don't like the control being taken away with our marriage...aaah...but we...I mean...you decide how ..gngngn.. we run this marriage ...it can be satisfying and happy..if you allow me to love you Oni...". Onigumo placed his large hand covering her mouth, but there was that sting in his chest again...was there something to what she said...??!

"You talk too much slut!", his words come pressed out between his narrow lips," you take what you get...and how desperate your tight cunt is for my cock!". He thrusts deep into her pussy holding his dick, moving rubbing against the walls of her pussy. "Oh fuck ...my little slut is really desperate...shit so tight but such a mess...thats what you are a little slut, MY little slut", he groans aggressively.

"Mmggbn", y/n wanted to speak but Onigumo had enough. "Got a loose mouth tonight lemme fix it", he grunts, as he pulls out. Onigumo smacks her ass again, the grabbed the backstrap of the leather harness and hurls y/n against the wall. She groans in pain and as she looks up seeing Onigumo, she smiles shyly seeing him naked for the first time. "Your..your handsome ", she mutters. But Onigumos face remains in a cold scowl, though his ego liked this type of compliment, he was too far in his sadistic mode. He grabs her arms, pinned them above her head, his other hand gets a hold of her jaw and forces it open.

"No biting understood!!!", he orders in a commanding voice. Onigumo slipped his cock between his wife's lips pushing in all the way . He loved the gagging sound coming from her

Onigumos thrusts increased causing y/n head to bump against the wall everytime with thumb noise. Thumb , thumb thumb.

She closed her eyes, tears running over the cheek as she tried to take Onigumos cock. He looks down at her grinning sadistically, thrusting his hips harder forward. Onigumo continues to throat fuck his wife until he climaxed shooting his bitter seed down her throat. Y/n gags hard and as Onigumo pulls out and clamping her mouth shut. "Swallow Woman!", he chuckles sadistically, wiping tears of her cheek with his thumb.

Gulp!

"Now there's a good little whore!", he grins. "I'm your wife ..too... Onigumo I want to please you more then just sexual..aargh", y/n whimpered, however Onigumo didn't give her much time, yanking the leash so she would stumble off the floor. As he sat down on the edge of the bed grabbing his cigarettes from his suit and lit one up, exhaling the smoke through the nose threatening, he tugs the leash. "Come to me on your hands and kness", he said coldly. Y/n obediently followed his order and crawls to him, Onigumo teases her to stop by placing his foot on her shoulder, his toe poked her cheek. The next command followed "Kiss my feet", he grins amused at her shocked look. In the end though she obediently kissed his feet making it rather good and sensual. After a few minutes onigumo pulls on y/n leash placing her between his legs. "Lick clean!", he barked commanding at her.

As she does so dragging her tongue across his balls and up his cock, Onigumo groans excited. He grunts as he rubs her head, she was so submissive. Onigumos rage subsided the sting in his chest hit him once more and he looks down at his arranged wife as she licked the tip of his cock like a good girl.

For a moment Onigumo contemplated her words...Onigumo had not a great relationship with anyone in his rotten family, his mother abandoned him as she saw a ogre of a monster in him, like all normal women call him that a monster, Onigumos father was an abusive alcoholic and his grandfather was Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, equally abusive and the reason why Onigumo was a full blown sadist, runs in the family, and it was the old man that had arranged Onigumos marriage with this woman. Old geezer obsessed that Onigumo sires offspring, best with inherited devilfruit powers.

In one point his arranged wife was right, control had been taken away from him... how did she plan to give it back.....Onigumo couldn't continue thinking as y/n dragged her tongue the entire length of his shaft, kissing the tip of his cock before she began sucking his balls.

Onigumo grunts before he took a final drag from his cigarette, if Onigumo would be still in bad mood he would have no quarrels putting the cigarette out on her head, but she did a good service in pleasuring him so he felt generous.

"Aargh....mmmhh..thats a good girl", he grunts satisfied. He puts out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

Onigumo stands up pulling y/n onto her feet with the leash, he stares at her with cold eyes, he caresses her breast, twisting her nipple between his fingers, she bites her lip Her face crunched up, hiding it. Onigumo smirks pulling her nipple. "Aaaah", she yelped. Onigumo quickly pushes his finger in her mouth making her suck on it. "You love being dominated and fucked roughly!", he grins darkly. Y/n pushes Onigumo away and shakes her head, he is displeased with that. "No I love well...you know", she blushes deep red," ...being..fuc...fucked by you and only you".

That made Onigumo grin from ear to ear and so he grabs y/n by the harness tossing her onto the bed once more. "Spread them!", he orders harsh. She obeyed and Onigumo tied her ankles to the bed , followed by her wrists being cuffed to the headboard, y/n laid there spread out for him and by God the sight of her body the harness , her skin, the soft flesh her squirming and breathing Onigumo got turned on ,his cock aroused and hard began to twitch. He immediately got on top of her breathing heavy as he grabs the harness.

"Then my whoring girl won't mind if I do this", he chuckles sadistically. Immediately he rammed his cock in her hot tight hole.

"Aaahh onigumooo!", y/n screams. He grins predatory:" Come on let it out!", he thrusts more faster and rougher. And then more music to his ears her moans.

"Oooaah ah ah ah Onnniii!", she moans and whimpers.

Onigumo continues to fuck his wife for 2 hours, aggressive and hard until they both climaxed multiple times, he loved feeling her cunt dripping and swelling for his rough treatment. In between the angry sex Onigumo makes out with y/n intensely as he chokes her to the edge of fainting .. additionally he bites her entire body while twisting her nipples some more.

And when he was fully satisfied after it all he laid back in the pillows finishing another cigarette, to him this bed felt really nice. He saw that y/n stumbled out of bed no doubt following the rules he had said about, no cuddles after sex ... however..

"Where do you think your going?", he asked stern.

Y/n flinches:"In ..into my room", she was exhausted and had bite marks all over and her ass felt sore from the spanking. She turns around to face Onigumo who unleashed his spider appendages from his hair to get a hold of y/n and pulling her into bed. Her face was one of utter disbelief. Onigumo placed her beside him, he slowly removed the leather harness and the collar and leash tossing them on the floor, he wasn't a guy of many words but actions, so this was significant.

Onigumo pulls y/n tight to his hot and sweaty body and made sure they both got halfway covered under the black sateen sheet.

Onigumo strokes her cheek tracing down to her lips leaving his finger there.

"If you ever tell anyone..I will kill you!", he whispers threatening. Y/n nods. Onigumo kisses her not rough as usual, normal soft caring. He turns y/n around and spoons her from behind, he makes sure as his large fingers intertwined with hers that she sees that he is wearing his wedding band

"Your my wife you sleep now always in my bed clear", he groans as he pulls her hair behind her ear , nibbling on it. Y/n gasped in surprise but smiles "Thank you Onigumo!", she whispers. He gives her a kiss on the cheek and whispers back "Best birthday gift ever!".

This was as much as of a love confession y/n got from Onigumo but she knew it meant everything and from now on, she was his wife his submissive wife. His alone the control that had been taken away from him with this marriage he had it back and she was his to control and mould into the perfect wife.

#one piece #one piece marines #one piece onigumo #viceadmiral #vice admiral onigumo #onigumo x reader #one piece smut #one piece onigumo x y/n

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nym-wibbly · 2 months

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Fic: My Bonds in Thee by Nym - Good Omens (TV)

Aziraphale comes back. Their love was never in doubt but they still have different exactlys.

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley Wordcount: 42,600 of (probably 80,000 - WIP) Rating: Explicit AO3 Archive Warning: No archive warnings apply Tags: Second Kiss, First Time, Flashbacks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49148341/

If you need an AO3 invite code to view fanworks set as 'visible to logged-in users only', just contact me at the e-mail address on my AO3 profile.

Excerpt from My Bonds in Thee chapter 8:

The world ended here just a few days ago. His world. He's not sure he feels good about returning, but Gabriel got one thing right (one damned thing in his damned smug damned charmed damned bloody Supreme existence). Home is wherever the heart is. And Crowley's already given his to Aziraphale. That's like Armageddon: You don't get a do-over when it goes pear-shaped. Push on, then.

Crowley scratches his head through the cloth of the hood, relieved to feel that he still has hair.

"How, um, deviant are we thinking? I mean," he gestures to the spiral staircase, upstairs, shocked to feel his cheeks and ears getting hot. "Physically?"

Aziraphale freezes while putting the front door keys into the top drawer of the desk. He clears his throat lightly and composes his features into his usual expression of placid warmth.

"If you can't choose your form, my dear," he says, with a facade of ease that Crowley really admires under the circumstances, "I'd say, 'very'. Not that one knows much about these matters, being an angel." He closes the drawer, slowly, and turns around. "Were you, um, hoping to find out now?"

Crowley pictures Aziraphale in Eden, hastily turning his back on Adam and Eve with a shocked little huff when they figured out what all the naked bits were for.

He still wonders what would've happened if he hadn't tempted Eve to try the bloody fruit. Suppose he'd seduced an angel instead—whispered visceral temptation in that innocent ear and stroked that sweet, soft, angelic hair until Aziraphale shivered and dropped his flaming sword?

That would've looked great in Genesis.

"One doesn't bloody know," he says, throwing himself lengthways onto the couch in a dramatic sprawl. "And one would like a bloody big drink now."

Aziraphale brings him a small drink, a careful measure of Scotch, but he has the decency to bring the bottle too.

For a moment, the angel hesitates about where to sit. Crowley sees the moment when Aziraphale remembers the park, the water's edge, and their kiss. It softens his whole face with wonder and quiet joy. This in turn makes Crowley stop breathing. He pats the edge of the couch beside his hip, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Aziraphale sits there, flustered, and hands him the glass.

"Can we really do this?"

"It's too late to ask that now." Crowley's not sure of much right now, but he's clear on that. They can only move forward.

"No. I mean, the other thing. 'Pillar of salt time'."

"Oh." Crowley empties the whisky down his throat in one gulp. "I've no idea. Can we? It's not actually written down anywhere, is it? 'Thou shalt not have carnal knowledge of an angel stroke demon'?"

"Carnal knowledge," Aziraphale echoes fretfully. "Sounds very bad when you put it like that."

"You'd blush if I put it any other way."

"I'm already blushing. They call it 'making love'. The humans, I mean. That's nice. I like that one."

"I think we..." Frowning, Crowley tries to think it over. He's not supposed to be out of his mind with temptation. It's been his job to do that to other people. But the possibility of the two of them, more together than they're already together... "We can be anything we want. Any shape, I mean. So I guess we can find one that, you know." He gestures vaguely with his glass, unwilling to sully the idea with what Aziraphale would call 'vulgar language', "Works," he finishes, awkwardly.

"Do snakes, um..."

"Don't go there."

"I'm a bit worried that we could accidentally destroy each other," Aziraphale admits. "With carnal knowledge."

"According to most humans, it's one hell of a way to go."

"Oh." Aziraphale bites his bottom lip. Crowley holds up his empty glass with a meaningful nod. Aziraphale ignores it, instead putting the whisky bottle down on the floor. "It's worrying me," he confesses, almost whispering. "I know nothing worries you, but—"

"You think that?"

"What?"

"That nothing worries me?"

"Well..."

"I'm terrified." Crowley slaps a hand to his chest as evidence of his thundering heart. "I'm absolutely scared out of my mind. Hence the empty glass," he adds, meaningfully. "I don't have the answers, Angel. I'm not sure I even know the questions."

Aziraphale takes the glass out of his hand and puts it down next to the bottle with a tidy little 'chink'. Crowley watches it go with a tiny pang of grief, the hint of a pout.

"I had no idea. I'm sorry." He lays his hand on top of Crowley's with slow care. "I assumed again. That you'd— Being a demon, with all the temptations and everything..." It tails off as the merest hint of a question.

Crowley wrinkles his nose.

"Humans?"

"Yes."

"Ugh. No. It was my job to get them doing it to each other without, you know. The love bit. Selfishly. Destructively. Unadulterated lust. Except when it's adultery, I suppose. Does that adulterate it? Does it get cancelled out if it's adultery but they love each other? Or if they love each other but do it selfishly? There's a few decades of temptation time I'll never get back."

Crowley realises he's babbling and stops.

"I see." Aziraphale's fingers curl around Crowley's unresisting hand, fingertips brushing his chest. Even through two layers of clothing, the sensation makes Crowley's toes curl. "And how exactly does one tempt a human to succumb to the flesh?"

"Uh..." Crowley blows out his cheeks. It's been a while. His temptations, halfhearted anyway, have been on a larger scale since the Industrial Revolution. Whole populations, technology, not furtive couples. "Well, you know. Rainstorms, shelter together under an awning, Jane Austen's balls. That sort of thing. They look uncertainly into each other's eyes, go in for the big, climactic kiss and... and Bob's your uncle. Carnal knowledge all over the sho—place." He fidgets uncomfortably, suddenly regretting the way he draped a nonchalant leg over the far arm of the couch. He's exposed everything, and Aziraphale is looking uncertainly into his eyes. His sunglasses, anyway. "It's programmed in for them. Some of them. A lot of them."

"Crowley," Aziraphale says, making a devastatingly unsuccessful attempt to look naughty. "Take off your glasses. I can't kiss you if you're not looking at me."

Never, never, in the thousands of years since he invented the bloody things, has it taken Crowley so many agonising eternities to snatch the stupid bits of glass and wire from his nose.

Aziraphale plants a hand on either side of Crowley's shoulders and bends swiftly, pecking him on the lips and—Crowley gulps—chuckling in the back of his throat. It's a deep sound. It's the sexy, evil twin of Aziraphale's guilty, nervous titter.

"Oh, God," Crowley mumbles, kissing upwards, like it's programmed in. "If this doesn't work—" kiss, "—we'll be cringin—" kiss, "—cringing about it 'til mumnff—" kiss, open mouths, a shared gasp, "'til the heat death of the universe."

[continue reading on AO3]

#good omens fanfic #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley/aziraphale #aziraphale/crowley #happy kissaversary #one year since THAT #doesn't time fly when you're having your heart broken?#good omens #good omens 2 #i'll post the link again later with a different excerpt #then i promise to shut up about it #belated publicity #nym's fanfic #my bonds in thee

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paigeyssims2004 · 2 months

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Monsters, Inc. x Finding Nemo AU

After barely escaping through a portal back to Heaven, Adam quickly shut the door, breathing heavily.

"All that...for fuckin' perfume!?" Adam whispered angrily, pulling out an apple-shaped bottle filled with a reddish-orange liquid. He fucking knew that going back to...He-who-shall-not-be-names castle is like suicide, ESPECIALLY RIGHT AFTER EXTERMINATION DAY!!

Ever since her death and the birth of his little brat, Lucifer has been pretty protective of his castle...a little too protective. So Heaven Incorporated came up with a solution, by creating a door that only goes to Lucifer's castle...Obviously, it was denied by the Elders, claiming that it was too risky, and if Lucifer finds out, he would have the upper hand. But does any of that stop Adam? Secretly using the door, sneaking around your enemy's lair, just to STEAL a perfume bottle that has a sent of pears and a hint of apples?!

Well duh...of fucking course it would, but c'mon, if you take a good whiff of it, you'd be doing too. Especially when it came from the Lust Ring!

"But.. Let's just hope it'll last for next year... Hopefully..." While Extermination Day is Adam's favorite pastime, but it is a bitch to clean up, not to mention the smell. So instead of just buying one here, Adam decided to pull a petty bitch card, by stealing one from not just Hell...but from the Devil himself.

He got the bottle all right...along with pieces of a crib mobile with decorative ducks tangled in his mask's horns (ofc Luci made it). Without any hesitation, the first man flew into the Exorcist locker room; just to hide his mask in his locker, at least for now. Is he forgetting something else- "Shit!" Adam immediately flew back to the door and turned off the portal's entry.

He sighs in relief.....*Thud*.....*Thud*.....*Thud*..... Adam then turns around.....Behind him was a little girl, who happened to be making that sound. She finally noticed that Adam was staring at her, *Thud*......"Birdie!"

That's when Adam knew that this little girl is a Hellborn and not just any Hellborn, she is Lucifer's spawn. Rosey cheeks, blonde hair, etc. So....along with perfume, there was the Princess of Hell, who is still playing with his wings, seemingly in her own world. As if that duck fucker hadn't lost enough family members already!

And you know what Adam did when he realized that he was fucked....He screamed

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #guitarduck #lucifer x adam #adam x lucifer #hazbin hotel adam #adam #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel au #rip adam #he did it for perfume #monsters inc x finding nemo au

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teaberrii · 1 year

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Chapter 4: Déjà vu

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You and Dan Heng arrive at Angel's Tavern, the bar March told you about. The doors slide open without any noise, and you step onto the shiny, black marble floor. The walls are made of the same material; the only difference is the thin, green neon lights that run through the walls like veins. Lights floating in diamond-shaped fixtures hang from the ceiling.

Dan Heng walks up to a counter where a woman looks up from whatever she was doing and smiles. “Dan Heng? It’s been a while.” Then, she looks at you. “Oh? Who’s this? Friend of yours?”

You and Dan Heng glance at each other, but instead of replying to her question, he says, “Table for two. At the bar.”

As she ushers you and Dan Heng inside, you quietly ask, “Are you a regular here?”

“...I used to be.”

Once you and Dan Heng are seated, he calls for a shot. Then, he turns to you. “It’s on me tonight.”

“Since when are you so generous?”

The bartender slides Dan Heng his shot. He effortlessly grabs it. “...It’s my thanks for accompanying me tonight.”

“...Is something wrong?” you ask cautiously. “You look tired.”

He downs the shot. “Everything’s fine.”

That can't be further from the truth, and he knows that you know. Dan Heng is thankful you let it slide and order a shot for yourself. He watches you down the shot and puts your empty glass on the counter. Then, he orders another for himself.

“...I heard you went to the hospital today,” you say. “Did you get some valuable information for your research?” You see his grip slightly tighten around his glass.

“...Tell me something.” His shot comes, but he doesn’t drink it. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Does that sparkle in your eyes have something to do with how you know about my research?”

Since when did he start connecting the dots?

“Why do you ask?” Then, you ask for another shot.

He takes his shot. “...Because I want to know more about you.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Is he drunk already? Dan Heng asks for another, and you sigh softly. "Look, even if I told you, you wouldn't get it."

“Try me.”

You scoff just as his shot comes, and he downs it again. Fine. If he's so insistent.

After taking your shot, you say, "Yes, it does."

Dan Heng smiles slightly, and you look away when your cheeks grow warm. Maybe it's the cozy atmosphere, or you're feeling the effects of the shot. Whatever it is, that lazy grin on his face sends an unexpected heat throughout your body.

You and Dan Heng call for another drink… at the same time. Then, his eyes meet yours, and you awkwardly look away.

“...How does it work?” he asks with a slight drawl.

You give him a deadpan look. Your drink comes first, and you take it. "What? Are we playing twenty questions now? How's that fair when you haven't answered any of my questions?"

He spins his chair toward you just as a glass slides straight into his hand. “I did get valuable information for my research today,” he says calmly. Then, he takes the shot and puts the glass down. “...But… I wish I didn’t go.”

He calls for another glass.

“You’re contradicting yourself,” you say.

Dan Heng slightly leans forward. “...It’s my turn, Cupid.”

Is it just you, or does Dan Heng get a little bold when he's supposedly drunk? Is he drunk? You can't tell.

Before he can take his shot, you stop him by saying, "I think you had enough for today."

“...Just one more,” he drawls.

You grab his hand to stop him, and that’s when it happens.

“...It’s not going to kill you.”

You looked at the pear-shaped bottle that supposedly contained the liquor you were curious about. "That's what they all say. Next thing I know, I'm unconscious, and you're dragging my body into the middle of the lake."

Is that a smile you saw?

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t drug and drag you into the middle of the lake. That’d be too much work.” Then, the man popped open the lid. “...Let me prove to you that it’s harmless.”

“...What’s wrong?”

Dan Heng’s calm voice pulls you back to the present.

What in the world was that? A vision? A flashback? But of what? You saw yourself and a… creature that oddly resembled Dan Heng in the strangest ways. The man had horns and long black hair with teal-tinted tips. His clothing also looked very traditional; flowy sleeves and a green sash around his waist that fans out like a cape behind him.

“...You… didn’t see it?” you ask.

“See what?”

When you notice your hand is still on his, you quickly pull it back. “Nothing. I… I think I’ll stop drinking.”

Dan Heng looks at the shot in his hand. “...Can I take this?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You’re the one who stopped me.”

“I never thought you’d be an obedient drunk.”

He smiles, downs his drink, and slightly leans toward you. “...I’m far from drunk, Cupid.”

Your eyes widen when you hear him lower his voice. Why did he do that? And… why is your heart racing?

“I can call you that, right?”

Dan Heng leans upright. There it is. That lazy smile. And then there are his hooded eyes. Unable to hold his stare, you turn towards the counter.

“Sure,” you mutter. You glance at him. “You used up your question, by the way.”

“How is that fair?”

You sigh and spin your chair to face the counter. “Should I take that as another question?”

Dan Heng spins your chair back to face him and frowns. “You aren’t playing fair.”

You lift your hand, intending to put it on his cheek to check his body temperature. But you stop as you remember what had just happened.

“...You aren’t going to touch me?”

You quickly pull your hand back. “You could’ve worded that better!”

A small smirk tugs at his lips. Now you’re sure he’s drunk.

Then, he leans forward again. “Tell me… I want to know how you saw it.” Before you can say anything, he continues, “Don’t tell me I won’t understand. I will understand.”

You slowly put your hands on his shoulders as if afraid that touching him will trigger another… whatever that was. But when it doesn’t come, you gently push him away.

“...Let’s get you home, Dan Heng,” you say.

He stands upright, and you call for the bartender for the bill. But when he tells you everything has been charged to Dan Heng's account, you turn to him. Dan Heng smiles at you.

“I told you it’s on me," he drawls.

Well, this man thinks ahead.

Should you be amazed that Dan Heng can walk in a straight line despite being drunk? During the short time you were at the bar, he's already managed to surprise you in so many ways. What else is next?

You’re almost to the train station when he suddenly asks, “...Are you cold?”

“Um, no. Are you?”

He stops, which makes you stop. Then, he turns to you. “I am.”

…Is he expecting you to do something about that?

"We're almost to the station," you say. "...Just hang in there." When he pouts slightly, you almost smile. "Don't tell me you can't handle a little cold."

That’s when he suddenly reaches behind you and pulls you close to him. His arm is around your shoulders, and your mind goes blank when you realize he’s hugging you.

“What… What are you doing?” you ask.

“...Sobering up.”

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk,” you deadpan.

A small pause.

“...I’m sorry…” he says quietly, his voice cracking. “Can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

Something tells you this isn’t just about him trying to ‘sober up.’ Before you know it, one of your arms is around him. Soon, you’re gently stroking his hair.

“...It’s okay,” you say softly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“...I have to save him,” you hear him whisper. “...I will.”

You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you still say as comfortingly as possible, “You will, Dan Heng. You will.”

When you close your eyes, you suddenly see it again.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You put a cold towel on his forehead that felt like it was burning. The man closed his eyes, and you get up to make your sick guest some soup. You were about to leave when he asked, “...Why are you doing this?”

You looked over your shoulder; the man was staring at you. "What do you think? You're my friend, Young. Whether you're human or not… I care about you."

Dan Heng lets you go, and you instantly snap back to reality. There it was… that vision, dream, flashback, of the man who eerily resembles Dan Heng.

“...Are you okay?”

You look Dan Heng in the eyes. “...Fine.” Then, you look away. “I’m… fine.” You slip your hands inside your pocket. “The train should be almost here. Let’s go.”

You and Dan Heng are lucky enough to get seats on the ride home. It’s a Friday night, so the train is more crowded than usual. You see Dan Heng subtly dozing off from the corner of your eye. Then, you hear your phone buzz.

Pom: WHERE R U?

Before heading to the bar with Dan Heng, you’d told Pom you’ll be coming home late. Of course, you didn’t tell him you were going to drink with Dan Heng as you could already imagine him wiggling his eyebrows and everything.

“...Did I keep you?”

You turn to Dan Heng, who’s not looking at you but obviously noticed that you’re holding your phone as if about to reply to someone.

“It’s Pom,” you say. “I was talking to him before we went for drinks. He’s just wondering where I am.”

“You two seem very close.”

You turn to him. Is he sober? You think back to the moment of vulnerability he shared with you before you got to the station. Maybe it’ll be okay to share something about yourself.

"...Pom is the only one I have left," you say quietly.

Dan Heng turns to you, and his eyes are a little red.

“...What about your family? Friends?”

You face forward as you say, “I have none.” Then, quietly, “At least none that I can remember.”

The train enters a tunnel, and the people sitting across from you suddenly get up to move to the doors. As they do, you see your reflection in the window. But when you look at Dan Heng, your eyes widen.

There he is. The… creature. His face looks identical to Dan Heng's. Yet, there are horns on his head, and his outfit is the same one you saw. His gaze meets yours, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“...Do you want to remember?”

You quickly turn to Dan Heng, who's looking at you. You slowly look back to his reflection in the mirror, but the creature is gone.

“...What do you mean?” you ask, turning to him.

“...Why dwell on the past when you can focus on the present? You’re making new friends. I’m… your friend.”

Then, before you can stop yourself, you say, "We might be friends, but finding out my past is why I'm here."

Dan Heng stays quiet, and you think he’s given up. But then he asks, “Are you using me?”

You look at him incredulously. “N-no! That’s not…” You sigh. “I think I like you better when you’re sober.”

The train comes to a stop. Then, once the doors open, you and Dan Heng get off. After leaving the station, you turn to him.

“No more questions for tonight, okay?”

Dan Heng nods. Then, as soon as you turn around, a large man talking with his friend accidentally bumps into you and spills his drink over his shirt.

“Ah, shit!” He glares at you. “Watch where you’re going.”

You frown. “You were the one who bumped into me.”

The man looks like he’s about to say something, but then you see Dan Heng step up beside you. He moves his arm as if to tell you to get behind him as he glares at the bigger man.

“Hey. Just let it go.”

At least the man’s friend speaks reason. Then, with a scoff, the men walk off.

“...You know,” you say, and Dan Heng looks at you. “You ain’t half bad, Dan Heng.” You chuckle. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t respond but continues walking. It doesn’t take long for you to catch up.

For the rest of the way, you and Dan Heng walk together in comfortable silence. You never thought he’d stick to his word. You send a quick text to Pom, who’s probably ready to command the entire police force to come looking for you.

In the elevator, you slowly glance at Dan Heng’s reflection. Will you see that creature again? Who is he? And why does he look so similar to Dan Heng? But most importantly, where are these… visions, flashbacks, or whatever they are coming from?

The elevator doors open, and Dan Heng glances at you.

“...Thanks for tonight.”

Then, he steps out and walks towards his suite just as the elevator doors close. You hear Gepard’s voice just before the elevator heads to your floor. As soon as you enter your apartment, Pom looks at you disapprovingly.

“Look who finally decided to show up. Did you and Dan Heng have fun?”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Pom.”

Pom almost jumps off the couch. “I want to drink, too! Wouldn’t hurt to have some fun while we’re here.” But then he smiles. “So, why did he ask you to drink with him?”

You slip off your coat and hang it in a nearby closet. “...Something happened at the hospital today.”

Pom’s smile vanishes. “He went to the hospital?”

“It was for his research,” you say, sitting on the couch. Pom sits on the opposite side of you. “...I don’t know what happened, but he was obviously really down.” When Pom stays silent, you look at him curiously. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, well… you know how I told you I talked to Stelle today?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to, but… I overheard her talking to who I think… are her parents. They were talking about someone named Caelus.”

“...That’s Stelle’s twin brother.”

“She has a twin brother?”

You nod. "I don't know much about him though." Then, you tell Pom about March and how she told you he's studying abroad.

“...If that’s the case, I don’t think Stelle’s buying it.” Pom sighs. “Anyway… this was actually her last event for a while. She’s going on a hiatus.”

“For health issues? That’s usually the case for celebrities, isn’t it?”

Pom shrugs. “I don’t have an answer to that. Maybe it has something to do with Caelus… But, hey, maybe this means we'll get our job done quicker.” He scratches his head. "For once, I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Now, it’s your turn to be silent.

“...Cupid?”

You look up at Pom, who’s looking at you curiously.

“I saw something strange today… when I was with Dan Heng.”

“Strange? Like what?”

So, you tell Pom about what you saw and the creature who looks like Dan Heng's doppelganger.

“...Young?”

“I’m pretty sure that was his name,” you say. “At least… that’s what I called him.”

Pom leans back. “Hm… I’ve never heard that name before. And you said he looks like…”

“...A dragon? A human dragon?”

“If he really exists, shouldn’t be he on the Astral Express?”

“I thought so, too. Maybe he’s not around anymore…”

“Or…” Pom leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What if Young is Dan Heng?”

You raise a brow. “So… he’s like laying dormant inside of him?”

“Maybe. I have no idea, but Dan Heng is the only other person who can see the flash in your eyes. Just from that, he’s already not normal. I wouldn’t be too surprised if there’s like… another being sleeping inside of him.”

But the question still remains. What does Young have to do with you?

“...I know we’re supposed to be doing a job, but…”

“...You want to drag it out,” Pom finishes.

“Himeko says we’d find this job more exciting than the others. I think she knew about what we’d find here.”

Pom smiles. “Well, I’m down to stick around. It’s pretty fun as a human!”

And it looks like Himeko is finally fulfilling her promise.

◆◆◆

The loose sleeves of your white and red hanfu flowed behind you as you ran into a more secluded area in the forest. Twigs snapped beneath your wooden sandals.

“She went this way!”

Eventually, you reached a small, deserted wooden cabin that you'd discovered last week when you were on your own in the forest. When you opened the door, you weren't expecting to see a young boy around the same age as yourself. He was wearing a white hanfu, except he'd ripped one of the sleeves and used it as a bandage for his wounded hand.

He turned around with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

“...I could ask you the same thing. I've never seen you before.” You cautiously approached him. When you were close enough, you crouched. “How did you get hurt?”

Silence.

When you saw the blood was soaking through the sleeve, you extended your hand to him. “Can I see?”

“...I’m fine,” he muttered. “You should get out of here.”

You frowned. "You touched a Venom Brew, didn't you?"

Disguised and easily mistaken for normal mushrooms, one touch of a Venom Brew can quickly swell and make your hand itch like mad. As one kept scratching it, the skin would easily peel and bleed, making it look worse.

“How did you know?”

“Clearly you aren’t from around here.” You nodded toward his injured hand. “...I know how to make the pain stop.”

So, the boy reluctantly extends his hand. You quickly unwrapped the bloodied bandage and drew a small knife.

“You carry a knife with you?” he asked.

"...This is going to hurt," you said. Then, you make a slightly deeper cut into his hand. The boy flinched, and then you started squeezing the blood out of his hand. "You need to squeeze out the poison. You can't just let it sit in your skin like this."

Sure enough, the swelling slowly started to go down.

“Does it still itch?” you asked, not looking up.

“...No.”

That was when you ripped your sleeve and used it as a bandage for his wound.

“There,” you said. “All done.” When you looked up, your eyes widened, and you dropped his hand.

“...Please don’t be afraid,” the boy said.

“You…” You pointed to the horns that had mysteriously appeared. “Who—”

“Should we check the cabin?”

You turned around at the sound of the voices of the people who were chasing you. But before you made a sound, the boy put his uninjured hand over your mouth.

Then, the doors opened… and you smelled something burning…

Your eyes open, and you immediately sit up. It takes you less than a second to realize that the burning smell is not from your dream. You quickly get out of bed and rush to the kitchen to find Pom turning off the stove.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“I wanted to make breakfast!" Pom says, staring at the blackened… thing in the pan.

You sigh out of relief. “Geez, Pom.”

“Did I wake you?”

You help Pom clean up as you say, “...You woke me from a dream.”

“Was it one of your nightmares?”

“...No. This one was… much more pleasant.” Pom looks at you curiously as you say, “...I think it was Young.”

You eventually find the opportunity to introduce Pom to March over the next few days. As for Dan Heng, you haven't seen much of him. Gepard tells you Dan Heng's been coming home late, sometimes staying overnight at the university. Gepard has also asked you if you knew what was happening, but you truthfully told him you didn't know. But you also keep that drunken night a secret.

You thought about asking Dan Heng if he's mentally okay, but you've lost count of how many times you opened a conversation to text him but end up not doing it. He also hasn't texted you either. But as the festival is right around the corner, you use it as an excuse to ask him how he's doing.

Dan Heng: I still want to take you and Pom to the festival.

You flop on the bed and begin typing a reply.

Shouldn’t you rest? It’s not a big deal.

Just as you drop your phone on the bed, you hear it buzz.

Dan Heng: It’ll be resting for me.

Well, guess that's the end of that.

You get off the bed and slide your phone into your pocket. As you come out of your room, Pom happens to poke his head from around the corner.

“Hey, Cupid. Are you hungry? I think I finally got the hang of cooking!”

You smell something… smoky and you say, "Just be careful not to burn this place down." Then, you walk to the door and slip on a jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“...The Astral Express.”

Pom steps out of the kitchen, revealing his black and white apron with the phrase “Kiss the Chef” on the front.

“Are you going to talk to Himeko?”

Ever since that day, you haven’t had any strange visions or dreams of Young, and you deduce that it’s probably because you haven’t seen Dan Heng. Regardless, you want to know if there really is a link between Dan Heng and Young and you. And there’s no better person to ask than Himeko.

“...Do you think she’ll really give you answers?” Pom continues.

“Probably not,” you say. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

Pom nods. “Good luck.” Then, he looks over his shoulder. “When you get back, I’ll be sure to have something ready!”

And then you’re off.

There’s only one way back to the Astral Express, and it’s the through your phone. But you must leave the way you came in. Today is a weekend, so while the trains are still busy, the campus is relatively quiet. Soon, you’re standing in front of the elevator that you, Pom, and Lan came out of. Once the doors open, you step inside and activate the app on your phone.

Then, everything goes black.

When you open your eyes, you're once again surrounded by floating clouds. The carriage doors open, and you head toward Himeko's compartment.

You don't get a chance to knock as the door automatically opens. It's as if she's expecting you. You walk inside, and you see her at her desk.

“It must be important if you came to see me in the middle of a job,” Himeko says, looking up at you.

“Were you expecting me?”

“Did you find out something about your past?”

You frown. “Maybe? I thought you might know something. A… creature named Young.”

“What about him?”

“Who is he? And… what does he have to do with Dan Heng?”

“Who do you think he is?”

"Why are you the one asking the questions?" you challenge.

Himeko stands. “This is me keeping my promise to you.”

"...So, he is someone from my past," you mutter.

"...Young is no longer here."

Now, you’re even more confused.

You sigh. “You really want to make me work, don’t you? You can’t just tell me everything?”

“Trust me. You’ll end up with more questions than answers if I did.” Suddenly, she appears in front of you. “...The only thing I can tell you is to be prepared.”

“...For what?”

“The answers you’re looking for may not be the ones you want to hear.”

Chapter 5

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @lxry-chxn @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre

#dan heng #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n #danheng x you #danheng x reader #danheng x y/n #honkai star rail #dan heng fluff #danheng fluff #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail dan heng #honkai dan heng

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yeahx10 · 9 months

Text

let's go 2024

in: cds, upbeat indie pop covers, eileen myles, randomly buying flowers for people, pear cider, four to six song eps, pastel orange, both buying and wearing band tshirts, curating concept/vibe-based playlists to put on shuffle, bracelets, olive tapenade, writing a little poem, queuing abba at a party, cheese and biscuits, going home, actually taking painkillers, stickers on water bottles, handheld electric fans, wired earphones never left but wired earphones, paramore's 2013 self titled album, songs longer than five minutes, ankle boots, knowing its for the better

out: enemies-to-lovers, fake pockets, goodreads, tiktok in general again, valourising high school english class, that one canva template of abstract orange and blue and pink shapes with a grain texture

#in/out list

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typingcorgi · 2 years

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paper rings

(a valentine's day gift for @toomanystoriessolittletime)

rating: e (minors, please shoo. you will be blocked) word count: 1.5k pairing: marcus pike x f!reader warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, valentine's day proposal, oral sex (m receiving), no use of y/n story summary: blunders out of your control keep this from being the proposal marcus pike had planned, but it's still damn perfect. equal parts fluff and spice. enjoy, steph! happy valentine's day :)

“Tonight was a disaster.”

Marcus says this with a rueful smile, scrubbing his face from his chin to his forehead. You can see out of the corner of your eye he isn’t actually disappointed, though most of your focus remains on the pear-shaped diamond adorning your left ring finger.

“I don’t know, Mr. Pike,” you reply playfully, sitting next to him in the back of the cab. “I mean, I feel like even if we took a roundabout way to get there, we reached the end-game destination.”

He turns his head to look at you, considering your response. You’re so damn gracious and patient and funny and beautiful and these are just a few of the reasons why Marcus Pike has fallen completely head-over-heels in the last eight months. He admitted to you early on that he could be daring with his heart, something of a risk-taker, but it’s only when he’s absolutely certain something is right for him that he takes the biggest leaps.

“Yeah, you might be right, Mrs. Pike,” he murmurs into your ear. Then he gently maneuvers your head to face his, locking in on your gaze before he kisses you softly.

—

The evening started with a botched reservation at this hip little spot in the city Marcus has been absolutely raving about. When you’d gotten there, the hostess overlooked the table for two neatly labeled Marcus in the reservation list, causing a mild panic from your significant other. In hindsight, you should have known right then and there something was amiss: Marcus is not the type to get flustered over a slip-up like this. Hell, he’d be happy to take you to the pizzeria around the corner, so long as he got to spend the evening with you. But you’d chalked it up to how badly he’d wanted you to try the burrata appetizer and shrugged it off.

Tonight wasn’t only Valentine’s Day, but the eighth-month anniversary of your first date. He remembers meeting you in mid-June for dinner and drinks at a spot that seemed a little much for a first-date spot, but he’d wanted so badly to impress you, and when you confessed that your perfect evening out is one spent grabbing late-night pancakes at the best diner in town, Marcus Pike was a fucking goner. He was fucking taken by your intelligence and quick wit and your soft kiss, but sharing a good meal in better company is the man’s love language (not to mention if said meal is boiled down to breakfast for dinner). He couldn’t not be completely smitten with you after that night.

You’d eventually find out there was a lot riding on this particular anniversary date, but the real kicker was the champagne toast.

Marcus proposed it a few minutes after you sat down. He pretended to go along with you for only a minute when you told him it wasn’t necessary, but then eventually sold you on it. Come on, why not? When do we ever do something like this?

He ordered a bottle of Ferrari Brut, but when the flutes were delivered to your table, Marcus Pike made it very obvious something was wrong.

“Hold on one minute, sweetheart,” he said before you could even raise your glass. You could tell he was trying to keep his cool while he followed the waiter back toward the kitchen doors, but Marcus Pike had always been very good at wearing his enormous heart on his sleeve.

And that’s when you realized.

Oh. Oh.

Your cheeks flushed the color of your dainty pink dress, and when Marcus returned to the table with a flustered and apologetic waiter on his heels, you stood up from your seat at the table.

“Yes,” you declared.

“What?” Marcus asked, brows knitting. “But I didn’t even—”

“I know, but you’re not subtle, sweetheart. So my answer is yes.”

Marcus gave you a smile that met his honey-brown eyes, and you laughed, and he laughed, and he kissed you, wrapping you in an embrace that had your feet floating off the floor.

—

Honestly, you’d marry him with paper rings if that’s what Marcus had offered you. If City Hall had been open, you’d just drag him down the block and up the stairs and grab a witness off the street corner before kissing him in front of a judge.

But honestly, the story of not one, but two minor hiccups leading up to Marcus’s planned proposal is one close to your heart. You’ll tell this story for decades; it’ll be featured on the homepage of your damn wedding website. You are in love. And it’s the little things like this, the extra attention to detail but ultimately not caring if things are a bit imperfect—those are the things that make Marcus a damn beautiful partner.

And you show him so. Oh fuck, you show him. It’s like you can’t get your hands on him fast enough when the door closes to your apartment. He’s so damn considerate and loving and that’s fucking hot.

You pull him by his tie to your bedroom, and he chases you kiss, and your fingers play along his belt buckle.

Eventually, you’re both exposed to the other, but it’s you who has him exactly where you want him. You lay him down, gently resting his bare back against the bedsheets, hand pressed gingerly over his chest.

“This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” he murmurs against your lips. “You were supposed to have the first turn.”

“You’re very generous,” you coo in response. “But that is usually how nights like these go, and I wanted to switch things up a bit.”

“I won’t fight you there,” he chuckles, and then his lips are on yours.

Your fingers trace a gentle path from his jaw toward his chest, your lips pressed softly against his skin. You feel him shudder beneath you as you reach his lower belly, eventually meeting their final destination at his cock. You lick your hand before taking him in your grasp. He’s rock-hard against your warm palm, and he hisses when you touch him, giving him a few lazy pumps before lowering your head to taste the bead of precum adorning his tip.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Fuck, baby, keep going.”

You hold him steady in your left hand and there’s the damn twinkle of that pretty little diamond he’s given you. It’s a goddamn sight, catching the ring along your hand with his body in your gentle grip. It’s as though you can see your own pupils begin to dilate as you part your lips, filling your mouth with him.

He can’t help himself. You feel so good, so warm and soft and nearly sinful, and Marcus begins thrusting his hips back and forth. His hand comes to hold your hair in a gentle grasp, not in a way to exude dominance (though truly, you’d probably eat that up, too), but more to show you he’s into this. You lick him from his base to tip and you hear him groan. You cradle his balls in your free hand and he gives a definitive exhale through his nose. He is yours, all yours, always, now and forever.

“Come on, baby,” you encourage him when you break away for a moment, if only to give your jaw a quick break. You pump him with your fist in the meantime, still giving him something to fuck into during the interim. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. Let me taste you. I want to feel you come in my mouth.”

He groans, closing his eyes tightly while his fist grips the sheets at his side. “God, baby, you don’t know what that does to me.”

But you do. You know very well. You know Marcus’s tells and his likes, you know the signs that suggest he’s about to meet his needed edge. You know how he likes to look you in your eyes while he’s fucking you, or how other nights he gets off from slapping your ass and pulling your hair.

Still, you return your mouth to his cock and let him fuck your mouth. You suck him off and feel him hit the back of your throat, once, twice, once more, until he spills into your mouth with a weary gasp.

“My s—sweet girl,” he manages, holding you there, and you fucking take it, you take all of him, careful not to spill a precious drop. You take him because you want to. Because he’s yours.

“Fuck,” he breathes as you ascend his body, meeting his gaze before resting your head along his broad chest. He cards his fingers through your hair and he sighs again, the smile on his face as plain as day.

“I fucking love you,” he confesses, as if it’s news, as if it’s the first time he’s told you within these last eight months. “I’m crazy about you. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x female reader #no y/n #2023 valentine's day exchange #toomanystoriessolittletime

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jomiddlemarch · 7 months

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(I measure time by how a body sways)

Part II

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, with a subtle wiggle of her fingers in his general direction. His heart was still beating and he was able to let out his next breath, so she hadn’t cast a wandless curse in his direction but then, the night was young. She sounded prim, as if she were channeling McGonagall at her most Scottish schoolmarm, if you left out Minerva’s well-known appreciation for good single malt Scotch and fit young men in Quidditch gear.

“Brandy. Armagnac. From the Malfoy cellar,” he said. She gave him what could only be called a speaking look, her lips pursed. If he were not terrified and about to piss himself, he would have found it utterly adorable.

“Why?”

“Bill said you don’t like Firewhiskey,” Draco replied.

“You’d asked?”

“No, he suggested I bring something. If you agreed to meet with me,” Draco said. Bill had not implied any if, far from it, but Draco felt it was best not to have Hermione think her acceptance had been the default expectation.

“You think I’ll need a drink? To talk with you?” she said. She was less ready to take umbrage and somehow more hurt; he’d put her on the defensive, despite his best efforts. She was also tired, he could tell that from looking at her, if he hadn’t already heard it from Bill and Cosima, her assistant, who had required much placating and a box of Honeyduke’s finest filled chocolates to agree to rearrange Madam Granger’s schedule to accommodate him. “I can’t decide whether you’re suggesting I can’t cope or that I won’t want to.”

She didn’t say Or that this isn’t a professional meeting, it’s a date, an assignation. She didn’t say Or you want me tipsy, you’re heard I’m an affectionate drunk.

She most certainly did not say either of those.

He would actually have combusted or winked out of existence, he’d be busy greeting plenty of people on the other side of the Veil.

“You’re being very gracious to meet with me and I wanted you to be able to have something worth drinking, if you chose to avail yourself. I took Bill’s advice because he knows you better than I do,” Draco said. He was fudging the truth, but not terribly.

“He’s got some nerve,” Hermione said. She settled though, relaxed into her chair.

“I believe it’s the exceedingly great confidence of a man who convinced a French half-Veela to marry him,” Draco said. “You can call it nerve if you prefer.”

She laughed then, a merry sound he’d have to remember if the evening went as horribly pear-shaped as he anticipated it would. He did not have Bill’s confidence.

“What’s it about? This,” she gestured around the private room, the curtains drawn, the table between them with the brandy bottle and two fat-bottomed glasses. “Us.”

“I want to begin by saying how deeply I appreciate you granting me this time to confer, Madam Nimue Granger—”

“There’s a bottle of very good Armagnac sitting right there. You’ve known me since I was eleven. We sat through that benighted travesty of an experts panel in Ravenna with the Dante impersonator together. Call me Hermione, Draco,” she said.

“All right, Hermione,” he said.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said lightly.

“No. I suppose not,” he said.

“But what you have to tell me is. Hard, I mean. You find it difficult, you went to Bill,” she said.

“He’s good at difficult things,” Draco said.

“He is. You’re stalling,” she said, smiling a little. “Shall I promise not to hit you again?”

He laughed, suddenly, choking on it. Her brown eyes were bright, her hair pulled back from her face with some Mugglish clip, the hollow at the base of her throat delicately shadowed. He wanted to protect her but the only threat he could see was himself.

“I trust you will restrain yourself,” he said.

“But not that I won’t feel the urge,” she said, shaking her head. “Intriguing.”

“I think you’re the only person who’ll be able to understand what happened, what caused it,” he said. “I wouldn’t have come to you otherwise—”

“What is it, Draco?”

“I can’t explain it—it was nearly a fortnight ago, I woke up, and this was, it was like this,” he said, unfastening the cuff of his sleeve, rolling it up his forearm, above his elbow. Stretching his arm across the table so it was fully exposed to her view, the new brand vivid against his fair skin.

“Lumos maxima melissa,” she whispered, the words of the spell barely more than breath on her parted lips. The light in the room altered, had the diamond clarity of the operating theater and the gentle slip of a summer daybreak.

And then she took hold of his arm, her hand circling his wrist.

Draco kept breathing because it was required, but it became work, to move the air in and out as she touched him, her magic vital in her fingertips. Her gaze was focused on his arm and he understood suddenly how Harry had defeated Voldemort. He kept his head bowed, waiting for her to say something, do something.

She let go of his arm and left it resting on the table. Then she shrugged off her robe and shoved up with loose sleeve of her knitted jersey, extending her own arm beside his.

“About a fortnight ago, I woke up and it was like this,” she said.

“Fuck me,” he exclaimed, staring at her skin. There was the subtlest flicker…

“You’re not imagining things. The stars twinkle sometimes. Eltanin and Aldibain,” Hermione said. The two brightest stars in the constellation Draco, etched on her skin in the shape of the dragon, its mouth open, its body coiled and draped, Hevelius’s creature, one he’d pored over when he’d learned what his name meant. His name on her arm, if one knew how to read it, not his fox Patronus, not the purple hyacinth that meant I’m sorry.

“A fortnight, you said?”

“It must have been the same time your Dark Mark changed,” she replied. “I woke up with the most horrid headache. Couldn’t get a pain potion to even touch it, but it was gone by the end of the day.”

“You must have a theory to explain it,” Draco said.

“Not a terribly good one, since I was missing some critical data,” she said. “Are we supposed to drink the brandy now?”

“If you don’t need to look at anything in more depth—”

“I saw that scar on my own arm every day for the past fifteen years. The only difference is that it’s on your arm now. I can safely assume you’ve tried a number of charms and potions to remove it or divine its provenance. It’s still there and you came to me,” she said, sounding just as she had every time she gave a lecture to a scholarly audience she considered her peers. “I think we can have some brandy and then discuss everything.”

“Everything?” he repeated.

“You’ve met me. I don’t do things by halves. But we can pace ourselves,” she said.

“Why aren’t you more…” he trailed off.

“Upset? Angry? Freaked out? Hysterical?” she said as he shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d pick any of those words but they’re worth saying. I’m not more shocked because it was the first change that was an impossibility. Once that happened, all bets were off. And also, because it’s you.”

“It’s me,” he said. “You were offended when you thought I wanted to get you drunk—”

“That was offensive, that’s why,” she countered.

“Why does it being me make a difference?” he asked.

“First of all, it’s hard to believe that what you just said was the King’s English. Secondly, it makes it better. It makes it something I can be curious about, not horrified,” she said, pausing, looking at him with her head tilted to the side, inquisitive, lovely. “It’s not your Patronus, is it?”

“No. My Patronus is a fox. A very diffident and hard-to-coax fox,” he said.

“I didn’t think your Patronus would be a dragon. Too on the nose. It would be embarrassing with your name, to be so concrete,” she said. She glanced over at the bottle, which Draco took as his cue to open it and pour out a generous measure for them both. She let the belly of the glass warm against her palm before she took a sip. “Mmm. That’s gorgeous.”

He took a swallow from his own glass before he spoke, letting the brandy take the place of the words he’d almost uttered you’re gorgeous you’re everything.

“Are you more interested in why it happened or how?” he asked. He could make an effort to pretend their conversation was solely academic, professional, impersonal—some word that was mature and appropriate, that wasn’t about him driving her away with a confession of his feelings. It didn’t matter that Bill had said she cared for him, they could still be friends. Sitting across from her, the last thing he wanted was to see that light in her sherry brown eyes go out, her face turned away from his.

“Yes,” she said and grinned.

“Did I deserve that?” he said.

“Probably not, but you’re so bloody serious. Whatever happened, it’s not the end of the world,” she said. “We’ve both lived through that. This is nothing like. We’re sitting here, drinking brandy and we have wonky brands on our arms that involve magic we don’t understand, and it’s all right. It really and truly is.”

“You’re only trying to make me feel better,” he said.

“Is it working?” she asked.

Draco considered. Her question and the shape her lips made asking it, the arch of her eyebrows over her expressive eyes, the way she sat, her hand curved around the brandy glass. He was still in one piece as was the bottle of Armagnac, the table, the door and all the panes of glass in the windows.

“I think it must be,” he said.

“Good,” she said. She took another sip of the brandy, closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you feel anything, right before it changed?”

“I was ill the night before. Fever, chills. Tried to sleep it off,” he said.

“Fine the next day though?”

“Yes. Except that the mark wasn’t the same. I felt dizzy when I saw it, but I think it was the shock, not part of an illness or any other magical process,” he said.

“It seems unlikely that there was an infectious agent or magico-immunologic trigger, since we were nowhere near each other for a shared exposure and I can’t recall anyone around me being ill or dealing with a toxic substance,” she said.

“It’s not impossible though,” Draco said.

“No, but that doesn’t make it likely. The physical symptoms were probably associated with the magical signature alteration. The designs are quite detailed and the original enchantments were cast by a very powerful Dark wizard and witch,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“What? Why?”

“For making you revisit Bellatrix torturing you. For making you remember what Voldemort did, what I did for him,” Draco said, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. Wishing he dared to toss back everything left in his glass and pour himself another. A double.

“I haven’t forgotten. You’re not making it any worse. It’s better, actually, because I’d sort of come to terms with the scar on my arm and when it changed, I felt like I didn’t have control of my body. I didn’t know why your signifier had replaced her slur,” Hermione said.

“You knew it meant me?”

“Not immediately. But there’s such a thing called a library, Draco, and I’m particularly fond of spending my time there, researching, when I’ve got a puzzle to solve,” she said. “I didn’t exactly want to tell anyone, certainly not you.”

“Not ever?” Draco said.

“Not without knowing more,” she said. She fiddled with her glass, bit her lip. “I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to ask you to meet with me. If you hadn’t asked me.”

“You’re a Gryffindor’s Gryffindor. You’re brave enough for anything,” he said.

“You say it as praise. I hear a sentence,” she said. “It’s exhausting, being brave enough for anything when no one is. Not me, not Harry. Not you.”

“No one’s ever accused me of bravery,” he said.

“Maybe you don’t talk to enough people,” she said. “Or listen to them.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he said.

“Do you know if anyone else’s Dark Mark has changed recently?” she said, returning to their ostensible reason for meeting. Draco had totally given himself over to wherever she wanted to take the conversation and was focusing on pacing himself with the brandy.

“I’m not in contact with most of the others who have one,” he said, stumbling a bit over the choice of others, not wanting to say Death Eaters, not wanting that degree of their past in the room, between them. “But I haven’t heard anything and neither had Bill.”

“Just us then,” she mused, startling him with the casual ease with which she said us.

“It would seem that way,” he replied.

“But it’s not an equal swap, is it? You have my scar, but I have your name in a rebus-esque fashion,” she said. Draco frowned. It had been quite some time since he’d been unable to understand what she was saying.

“A rebus is a Muggle puzzle,” she explained. Now she frowned, a thinking deeply frown, not an unhappy one. Draco felt obscurely pleased he knew the difference.

“Perhaps it has to do with the casters?” he offered. “Who they were or their intentions?”

“That’s an interesting angle. Not sure how we’d disambiguate it—”

“As terrible as she was, Bellatrix was not Voldemort’s peer in terms of magical power. Even before you take into account all the Dark magic he used to amplify his ability, his original reservoir was at least an order of magnitude greater than hers. Probably more like three,” Draco said.

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked.

“I’m familiar with some of what he did early on. Bellatrix did try to emulate him in all ways. She wasn’t able to sustain the majority of the spells he’d used. I found a journal she kept. She only managed about a third of them and she had more backlash from the potions than he did,” Draco said. “If he had been the one to curse you in the ballroom, at best you would have lost your arm and magic. You probably wouldn’t have survived. You would have tried to fight back, that first instant, whether you thought about it or not. Your magic would have been compelled to resist him. He would have either been amused or annoyed, but either way, he would have intensified the curse. That would have been it.”

Hermione, killed. Draco didn’t think he would have been able to make a sound then. Imagining it now, he felt the keening of his soul at the prospect, the urge to tear the very Veil itself.

“That’s…frankly, I don’t know what that is,” she said. “Daunting? An odd relief? The stuff of nightmares?”

“M’sorry,” he said, gulping down some brandy.

“It’s all right. It does make me think more about intention though. Because the Dark Mark changed after Riddle was destroyed, once it was untethered from the caster. But it didn’t kill all its bearers. It was like the spell reverted to its initial intention, without the warp Riddle put on it to make it the Dark Mark. Even so, when he branded his Death Eaters, it was supposed to be, well, I guess sort of a good thing? Joining his side. From his perspective, it was an initiation rite, a membership token. Whereas Bellatrix wanted to humiliate and hurt me,” she said.

“Yeah,” Draco said.

“Maybe it’s not to do with the casters. Maybe it’s you,” she said.

“It’s my fault?” he said.

“I didn’t say it was your fault. You might be the inflection point. Your Dark Mark changed. Your name replaced my scar. Maybe we don’t need to overthink it. It’s about you,” she said. As if it were good news, an answer she’d been hoping to discover.

“Me,” he said.

“Something changed in you, something that involved your magic. Something significant enough to overwrite the Dark Mark and to alter my scar, perhaps because you were there when I got it. Or because of the Black lineage,” Hermione said.

“I did something and you have to deal with the consequences. Again,” he said.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But you say consequences like it’s a bad thing. Like I wouldn’t prefer having a beautiful constellation with twinkling stars appear on my arm instead of a disgusting slur that never stopped hurting carved into me by a mass murderer,” she replied.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better,” he said. She’d do that, however sincere she sounded.

“If you do, that’s great. I’m telling you how I feel. I feel better. Given the chance, I’d have chosen this,” she said.

“You felt sick when it happened,” he pointed out.

“For a day. I was in the infirmary after Dolohov cursed me for a solid three weeks, dosed to the gills with potions Snape had to brew specially and an anti-emetic to keep them down, since they all tasted vile,” she said.

“I didn’t know that,” he said.

“What happened to you? What changed?” she asked. He sat there, silent, without a clue where to begin. She frowned, thinking, clearly impatient with him or doubting that he’d ever come up with anything helpful.

“The Dark Mark represents your greatest regret,” she said. “It used to be the cabinet, right?”

“Yes.”

“And now it’s my scar,” she said. “You regret what—witnessing me being tortured? Me being hurt? Not being able to do anything to stop it? Ever saying that word?”

“Yes. All of it. All of it, Hermione,” he said.

“You regret it more than bringing Death Eaters into Hogwarts?” she asked, her eyes steady upon him. There was a curious lack of condemnation in her expression and tone, as if she might understand.

“I do,” he said.

“Why?”

There was no universe where she didn’t ask the question, no timeline, no reality he could ever inhabit. She was Hermione Granger and she would always want to know.

“You know why,” he said. “You must—”

“I need to hear it. From you,” she said.

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “When I understood that, that’s when it changed.”

To her credit and earning his everlasting gratitude, Hermione did not toss back the rest of her brandy. In fact, she didn’t touch the glass at all. She kept looking at him. If she had been a Legilimens, she would have been inside his mind in an instant; he could not have Occluded to save her life, let alone his.

“When?”

“Hogwarts—”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“Let me explain. When we went back to Hogwarts, to talk to the students. When you told me you were sorry. When you said they’d let me go hang. After everything, you saw that in me now and said something. I’d already liked you, so much, I’d already wanted you, but that was when I knew I loved you, that I’d fallen in love with you. I’m sorry—”

“You’re sorry?” she said.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, I’m sorry for burdening you with this, my emotions, when you don’t want it and you’ll feel compelled to be gracious. Or you’ll be embarrassed, you won’t feel we can be friends any longer, because I’ve put this between us and it can’t be undone. I don’t regret loving you, I regret having to tell you, when you don’t—”

“You’re awfully sure of how I feel for someone who has not asked me. Unless you dosed the brandy with Veritaserum. If you have, I have to tell you that it’s a Class 2 offense and also that I found a prototype antidote potion recipe among Snape’s things and I finished it off, so that won’t affect me,” she said. She was less prickly than she had been a minute ago. In fact, she was smiling her little superior swot smile he’d once found insanely provoking and now adored for being a glimpse of the girl she’d once been.

“You finished it off?” he said.

“That’s the part you want to focus on?” she replied. “Not the asking me how I feel? Fine. Snape’s first draft was solid, but he didn’t account—”

“I’m scared. To ask you,” Draco said. There was his act of bravery, his Gryffindor declaration: he was a coward.

“Why?” she asked and it was clear she wasn’t taking offense or taking the piss or getting ready to smack him. Her forefinger traced the round curve of the brandy glass and she was waiting for him to answer, wanting him to explain himself.

“Because you’re honest when it counts the most,” he said.

To his surprise, she laughed.

“Another time, I’ll let you know all the ways that statement has been disproved, but I appreciate the…aspiration of it. I’m flattered,” she said.

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you,” he replied.

“I know. I know you mean I won’t lie to you about how I feel and I won’t. Not to you. Not now and not about this,” she said. “It’s only, you should know that in another circumstance, I’d say whatever I thought I needed to. Right now, what I think I need, what you need, is for me to be direct—”

“I don’t want to lose your friendship,” he interrupted.

“You won’t,” she said. “Telling me you’re in love with me won’t make me stop being your friend. I like you, Draco.”

“All right,” he said. He sounded crestfallen even to himself, when he should have been overjoyed that he hadn’t made her walk out, curse him or throw the expensive brandy in his face. “That’s fine then, that’s more than enough—"

“I care about you,” she said.

“As a friend,” he said. He’d moved on to sullen. She smiled, tilted her head to the side. The stars twinkled on her arm.

“As a friend. And more than a friend,” she said.

“You don’t have to say that,” he replied.

“I know I don’t. Except I do, because it’s true. And lying to you doesn’t suit my needs,” she said. “It’s a dreadful relief, that your Dark Mark changed. I was going to have to glamour Bellatrix’s curse back onto my arm around you and I can’t tell you how much that would have annoyed me, but I couldn’t let you see your name on my skin, could I?”

“Um, no?”

“It wouldn’t have taken you but a second to see what it was. To recognize your name. It would have been the most embarrassing declaration of affection I could imagine or at least I’d have tried to convince you it was just some magical excrescence.”

“Some magical excrescence?”

“See, you never would have believed it. Maybe if Luna said something like that, but me? It would have been horribly awkward and now, it’s not,” she said, finishing up rather pertly, as if she were tying a bow on a gift.

“You care about me as more than a friend,” he said, testing it out.

“That sounds quite roundabout, doesn’t it?” she said. “Shall I make it sound better?”

He nodded.

“I love you,” she said. “I’m in love with you. You are also a good friend. Better?”

He nodded again. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink. She’d barely touched the brandy. He shook his head and she frowned.

“No?”

“It would be better without this bloody table between us,” he said.

She laughed, turned her palm upwards and flicked her fingers slightly, murmured Mitto adte and then she was sitting in his lap; she might have tumbled off except he’d instantly wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer.

“That wasn’t an Apparition,” he said because it didn’t seem polite to simply start snogging the living daylights out of her.

“No, I found a way to do a reverse-Accio on a person,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to use it.”

“I believe you found it,” he said and then it didn’t seem polite not to start kissing her. One could say what one would about him, but he’d been raised with exquisite manners.

#dramione #second chapter #hermione x draco #draco POV #post-hogwarts #canon au #epilogue what epilogue #love confessions #Draco is SUFFERING #Hermione creates new spells #laps are sat upon #romance #angst #the dark mark

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