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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months ago

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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #alastor #Alastor and vox #Hazbin hotel #helluva boss vox #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin valentino #charlie morningstar #hazbin niffty

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corkinavoid · 5 months ago

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DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)

Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.

The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.

It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.

"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.

"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."

A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.

"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.

It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.

They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.

Danny is just magically lucky like that.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #batman #superman #justice league #clockwork #danny is a lucky little shit #and yet he has no idea he is #or maybe he does and he just plays dumb in front of everyone #feel free to add your own improbable accidents caused by Danny #or just anything at all #cork writes #cork prompts #prompt

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jenoslutie · 2 months ago

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that's that me, espresso l y.jh

❥ Synopsis: Jeonghan fucks you hard, Jeonghan fucks you good. You both know that much, so why do you refuse to give him the time of day outside of bed?

❥ Genre: Smut, Desperate Jeonghan, Reader is closed off, one sided pining (until it's mutual), Fuckgirl!reader, Formula One drivers!Seventeen, Reader is a life guard (so is Joshua!) theres also like angst if u really squint.

❥ Warnings: *takes a deep breath* unprotected sex, degradation, praise, choking, implied face slapping, multiple sex scenes (like 3), creampies (ew i hate that word!!!), exhibitionism, jeonghan is a little mean during sex but its okay, jeonghan fucks her while seungcheol listens in but she does not know, fingering, oral, face fucking, car sex, jeonghan cums in her and makes her keep it inside while they play beach volleyball, reader likes to send videos of her sleeping with other people (cheol and josh) to jeonghan to mess with him. i think thats it.

❥ Word count: 8.6k

a/n: so im finally done this LMAOO. huge. huge. HUGE!!!! thank u to everyone who helped me with this fic @hanniesluvr my lovely aera my fellow jeonghan freak my WIFE!!! for keeping me motivated through this and matching my freak, @haologram for the banner and basically ghost writing this (if u like the whole f1 driver thing, thank alta :D) and @dearlyjun for using her big huge sexy brain and f1 knowledge and helping a girl out ANDD!!!! @jihyokat for beta reading i love u all MWAH <3 ANYWAYS!!! here she is <3 hope u enjoy :D

“You’re already leaving?” Jeonghan called out from behind you, watching as you redressed yourself. Jeonghan knew you never stayed. Well, you never stayed with him at least.

You let out a laugh, ”You know I'm not staying” Jeonghan let out a groan at that, annoyed that he’s seen you stay the night with other hookups but not him. Why not Jeonghan? He was hot, he fucked good, he fucked hard (the way you like it), he fit all of the requirements that made him a good fuck buddy. So why did you refuse to spend the night with him every time you hooked up?

The answer was simple, you didn’t want to stick around when you know they’re gonna catch feelings. You know Jeonghan is going to get attached too easily if you keep staying. But there’s something about him that’s just too good to let go.

The first time you and Jeonghan had sex, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced before. Jeonghan was different. He single-handedly fulfilled all of your depraved fantasies on your first night together. You never thought that someone like Jeonghan would be so…nasty in bed but the second you followed him back to his car you were in for a surprise to say the least.

For someone who looked like an angel, he sure didn’t act like one in bed.

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You were invited to the party Jeonghan threw to celebrate his win in Las Vegas. Your best friend and second place winner tonight, Mingyu, drove you to the venue with him. You could hear the music booming before you even got to the entrance of the nightclub. It was huge and the only other person you knew at this party was Seungkwan, Mingyu’s teammate.

The moment you were let into the club your eyes landed on Boo Seungkwan, the other man you were expecting to see tonight. His eyes locked with yours and immediately they lit up. He was conversing with Yoon Jeonghan, the man of the night and no matter how many times you’ve seen the man on TV, it’s nothing compared to the real deal. Jeonghan was nothing short of ethereal. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was an angel on earth, not one of the top racers on the whole grid.

“Y/n!” Seungkwan shouted over the crowd, your smiles mirroring each other as Mingyu led you through the ocean of bodies. “You look fucking stunning tonight dude” He left the group he was talking with to pull you away from Mingyu. You were aware of how good you looked tonight. You chose not to drive to the party tonight in plans of going home with someone at the party and you knew that you had to dress to impress. With your little black dress and matching stiletto pumps, you were sure you’d get someone to either A) buy you a drink or B) take you back to theirs.

…Hopefully both?

“Thanks Kwannie! I thought maybe I’d dress to impress tonight” Seungkwan snickered at that, “Why? got any plans tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking over your shoulder at Mingyu, implying you’d be going back to his place after this. Typical Seungkwan, he was always so determined to someday expose that you and Mingyu were secretly hooking up on the down low but that day won’t be soon.

“Fuck no! You know damn well i would never fuck Mingyu of all people” Lies. You and Mingyu did hook up once and never again. Not that it was bad but because on your way out that day you met the one and only Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan’s teammate at Ferrari. You and Seungcheol have been hooking up on the down low since. You wrapped up the conversation with Seungkwan and made your way around the club, searching for Mingyu.

“Hey!” A tap on your shoulder caught your attention, You turned around and there was the man of the night, Yoon Jeonghan, you watched him give you a once over before meeting your eyes. “Hi! Jeonghan, right?” You were quick to introduce yourself, maintaining eye contact as best as you could. It wasn’t easy when his big brown eyes were looking deep into your own and to make it worse, his pretty face was glowing, the aftermath of a huge victory on the track today.

“Are you looking for your boyfriend?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes searching around looking for whoever he supposed was your boyfriend.

“Boyfriend?” You snickered, “Who’s my boyfriend dare I ask”

“Mingyu, no?”

You burst into laughter, hand resting on his shoulder for reassurance. “Mingyu is not my boyfriend, we’re just friends. And yes, I was looking for him”

Jeonghan sighed in relief. “Thank God, Mind if I buy you a drink?”

BINGO!

Jeonghan led the way to the bar where he bought you your drink of choice, a Vodka Tonic. You were sitting on a bar stool with your back to the bar while Jeonghan stood in front of you, looking down at you and taking in your figure. “You look amazing tonight by the way” He smiled at you as he watched you take a sip of your drink, smiling creeping onto your face at both the taste of your drink and the compliment.

“Thank you, I put it on in hopes to go home with someone tonight” You gazed up at him expectantly.

“Oh? Is that so?” Jeonghan smirked, stepping forward to situate himself between your legs, leaning his head down enough to where his lips were hovering over yours.

“Wanna take me home?” You smiled with faux innocence, downing your drink before Jeonghan pulled you up and off your seat and out of the club.

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The drive back to his hotel was exhilarating, Jeonghan feeling up your bare thighs while he drove while you leaned over the center console and pressed kisses all over his neck earning you halfhearted warnings. He knows you shouldn't be distracting him like that but he also knows he does not want you to stop, your lips on his neck almost making him lose focus of the road.

Before you knew it, the two of you were back at his hotel room with his lips against yours in a desperate kiss while you were pressed up against the wall. Jeonghan’s hands wandered all over your body, feeling up every inch of your body that he could get his hands on.

“Get me naked Jeonghan,” You let out a sound that was something even more desperate than a whine, but Jeonghan ignored your plea, continuing to attack your lips with his own, enjoying your pretty sounds as you got even more desperate for him to do something.

“On your knees” Jeonghan ordered. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you freeze. Jeonghan’s voice dropped an octave as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “I’m not going to repeat myself” You instantly dropped to your knees and looked up at him, locking eyes with his own.

“I’m going to use your throat like a fucking fleshlight. Okay?” Your body buzzed with excitement as you heard that, sure you’ve sucked cock before but never has anyone ever done anything like that. “Squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop” You only nodded enthusiastically and within an instant, he was ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers before he was pressing his hard cock against your open mouth. You eagerly sucked the tip of Jeonghan’s cock into your mouth, and began to tease the slit on the tip of his cock with your tongue. As you sucked his cock into your mouth, you could feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy. You did your best to ignore the urge to just have his cock in you.

Jeonghan roughly pushed you all the way down on his cock making you gag immediately but you were quick to remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Jeonghan was pulling you up on his cock and slamming you back down with no relent. True to his word, he began to use you as if you were nothing but a toy, placing his hands on the sides of your face to get a better grip. His noises filled the room, tumbling out of his mouth in a way that only made you leak more on the floor of the hotel room. His one hand maneuvered to your hair, gripping tight as he began fucking into your mouth with even more force. In no time he was cumming down your throat, pushing your head all the way down his cock until his whole cock hit the back of your throat.

“Get on the bed,” You obliged wordlessly, submitting to Jeonghan and whatever he wants of you. Making yourself comfortable on the bed, you gazed up at Jeonghan, watching as he stared down at you almost as if to mock the way you submit to him so easily.

“Jeonghan-” Before you could finish Jeonghan delivered a light slap to your face. Muttering a small but stern ‘shut up’

"You speak when spoken to," he grits, glaring at you with dark eyes. He presses down on your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, you wince out in pain. “I’m gonna give you your safeword okay?” He didn’t really give you much room to agree before he assigned you a safeword, something easy for both of you to remember. You repeated it back to him to which Jeonghan smiled at your obedience.

“Use it if you need to, okay? I won’t be upset if you do” Only after you nodded in understanding did Jeonghan inch closer to you to rid you of the rest of your clothes. He grinned when he caught a glimpse of your soaked pussy. “So wet already? Just from me fucking your face?” The question was rhetorical the way Jeonghan dropped to his knees, wasting no more time to dig his face between your legs. Dragging his lips between your slit, sucking your arousal onto his tongue.

Tugging his shirt off, he fixes himself back between your legs. Letting out groans against your core, prompting you to moan out yourself. He presses a last kiss to your clit before pulling away. He sits on the edge of your bed. “Sit that pretty pussy on my cock, slut.” And again, you had no will in you to deny anything the man asks of you. Immediately making your way over and straddling his thighs. You take a deep breath before reaching down to guide him in. Feeling your stomach twist as the stretch slowly splits you open. Your eyes shut as you cry out at his thick cock stretching you open. “Why the fuck are you so tight. Holy shit” Jeonghan winces, his own eyes slamming shut at the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him in.

“You’re too big—“ you whine, your head falling down to rest on his shoulder as you slowly begin to move up and down on his cock. But it didn’t go far before Jeonghan was wrapping his hands around your hips and taking over your movements with faster and harder ones of his own.

You let out a string of moans at his intense pace making him chuckle. “Fucking slut. you like that dont you?” he gave a hard thrust, bottoming out inside your cunt. “Like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, hmm?” You moaned out choruses of ‘yes’ as Jeonghan began rutting up into you. Moving a hand down to rub at your clit, your body jerked as you felt your high incoming.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Jeonghan” Your voice came out in a high pitched whine as you rubbed your clit harder, body shaking as Jeonghan fucked you harder to help guide you to the edge. Your eyes roll back as your high hits you and Jeonghan helps you ride it out, not forgetting to kiss you through it too. The two of you with no care in the world for who can hear you. As the high of your orgasm dissipates, he flips you onto your back. He’s close too, you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing inside you and his thrusts turn erratic.

“Cum inside Jeonghan.” You all but begged, Jeonghan moaning out before he also toppled over the edge. Cock throbbing erratically inside you as he emptied ropes of cum inside you. The two of you took a minute to calm your racing hearts before Jeonghan pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to you.

“Holy shit” He huffed, looking over at your smiling face. “Please tell me you’ll give me your number” He was still out of breath and it only made you chuckle, rolling off the bed to pick up your purse from where he he face fucked you moments ago. Fishing out your phone, you unlocked it before handing it to Jeonghan who was nearly knocked out on the bed for him to put his number in and text himself.

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Since the day you two hooked up at Jeonghan’s party, you’d started seeing each other more often. It’s not like you only seeked Jeonghan for your dick appointments. In reality Jeonghan was the one constantly calling and texting for when he can see you again. You won’t say that you minded it though. Sex with Jeonghan is an out of the world experience. Him making you feel highs you have never felt before with any other partner or yourself.

As for Jeonghan? Jeonghan felt nothing short of smitten. Getting into his bed with anyone other than you made the most uncomfortable feeling arise within him and it had been practically days since he last saw you so he had to hit you up.

jeonghan: i miss youuuuuuu jeonghan: hi jeonghan: cmon respondddddddd jeonghan: alright.. what position he got you in???

you: [attachment: 1 video]

You knew Jeonghan didn't expect you to actually send him a video of what position your last hookup had you in, you watched the video back and you couldn't help but get a little ego boost while watching yourself getting fucked by one of your coworkers, Joshua. He had you on all fours, hand gripping onto your waist as he fucked you.

Another thing you couldnt help is noticing how Joshua was not fucking you half as good as Jeonghan does. There's no bruises on your hips, there's no hair pulling, and the worst of all, there's no degradation. One thing about Jeonghan, for someone with such an angelic face, he has the nastiest mouth. It’s not something you're complaining about though, you would never complain about the way Jeonghan treats you in bed.

It wasn’t like Jeonghan was the only guy you could pull, never that. Jeonghan just happened to be one of the best guys you’ve ever slept with. Which might even be the only reason you keep going back to him. Something about the way he treats you just has you always craving more of him- not that you’d ever admit that to him but it was true. Jeonghan might call you all sorts of names in bed, treat you like some common whore, but right after he’ll always clean you up, attempt to hold you close, give you all the reassurance you need for you to know he doesn’t actually think you’re a common whore (not that it matters).

jeonghan: what the fuck man… jeonghan: i’m about to have the saddest wank of my life jeonghan: ^^^woah idk who said that jeonghan: might be the demons idk

you: have fun jeonghan <3

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

you: hey, you wanna come play beach volleyball tmrw @3?

seungcheol: hmm seungcheol: i dont think i can make it, seokmin wants to hang.

you: boo you whore.

[seungcheol disliked “boo you whore.”]

If there's one thing you hate, it would be your job. Sitting in the sun for hours on end and staring at people who were obviously having a lot more fun than you were. You thought you could invite Seungcheol so you could play beach volleyball but apparently the universe didn’t want you to enjoy your shift. But that’s when it hit you, you could just invite Jeonghan. Surely he wouldn’t let you down.

you: hey r u free tmrw?

His reply was almost instant.

jeonghan: yea, why?

you: wanna play beach volleyball at the beach i work at?

you: i'm thinking around 3pm

jeonghan: i'm down, which beach is it?

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You saw Jeonghan’s car pull up to the beach almost thirty minutes before your shift was supposed to start, giving you thirty minutes to spare before the rest of your coworkers piled in to start their shifts.

“Hey, Beautiful” Jeonghan called out as he got out of his car, leaning back against it as you approached him. “Hi Handsome,” You smiled back as you watched him give you a once over, looking at you in your work uniform, a simple red bikini with the word ‘LIFEGUARD’ printed on it in white. Jeonghan leaned down so that he could whisper in your ear, “Do you think I can make you cum before your shift?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to do the talking, knowing you’d accidentally moan or whimper out loud.

“Get in the car then”

You didn't need to be told twice, immediately you hopped in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car and he followed suit. There wasn't much time for foreplay so he leans in, connecting your lips eagerly. As if he’s been craving this for years and is finally being satiated. The limited space doesn’t offer much room to maneuver but Jeonghan shifts in between your legs enough to grind his clothed cock against your barely clothed core. The whole situation arousing you beyond belief, about to fuck Jeonghan in the back of his car, parked someplace where anyone could see what was happening inside. You could feel your arousal seeping out of your pussy and staining the seat of your bikini. Moaning out into the kiss you pushed your hips into his own, urging him to do something.

“Jeonghan do something” You urge him in a hushed whisper, barely able to get the words out with the way Jeonghan was grinding into you so deliciously. Jeonghan merely hummed in response, halting his movements to slide down his swim shorts and free his aching cock.

“You realize how much of a slut you are for this hm? Letting me have you like this where anyone can see you, hear you, find out how much of a slut you are for me.” Jeonghan’s gaze was dark, almost mocking you. You let out some sort of groan at his words. A chill running down your spine at the thought of what Jeonghan is gonna do to you. Flashbacks of the first night you spent with him running through your head. Jeonghan was so rough in a way that no one else had ever been with you and you couldn't help but admit that you loved every second of it. Being too absorbed in your thoughts, you couldn’t respond back to jeonghan which earned you a slap across your face. Your cheek stinging at the contact but nonetheless making you clench around nothing. The feeling of your damp swimsuit sticking to your core making you wiggle your hips in discomfort.

“Pay attention to me slut” Jeonghan seethed, wrapping a hand around your throat and putting just enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering shut. “Beg for it if you want it” Another slap to your face, this time it was harder than before. Your eyes tearing up a little before you squeaked out a little ‘please’ Another slap.

“You can do better”

“Please fuck me Jeonghan” You pleaded, a tear running down your cheek at the hit.

“Try again” His voice was softer this time, rubbing his free hand over the spot he just slapped.

“Jeonghan please” you whined. “ Want everyone to hear how good you fuck me please” You begged harder this time, hoping this would be enough for Jeonghan and boy were you right. He pushes the seat of your bikini to the side before repositioning himself and pushing his length into you, moaning in delight as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of finally having Jeonghan in you making more tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn’t take it easy though, keeping a steady, rough rhythm from the start. Pounding you into his backseat while watching you lose yourself in the feeling of him ramming into you. “You love it huh? Tell me how much you love it” You didn’t have it in you to deny it, fully aware of the way you literally begged him for it moments ago.

“I fucking love it Jeonghan” You gasp, his hand reaching down to rub at your clit in harsh circles.

“Does anyone fuck you like i do?” He grunts, rocking his hips into yours harder, as if it was even possible with the way he was fucking you so hard you were positive anyone passing by could see the car visibly shaking.

You shook your head immediately, “No one fucks me like you do” You confirm. Jeonghan hummed, your answer satisfying him enough that he tightened his hand around your neck once again and rubbing your clit with the other hand. The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot and you feel all the thoughts in your head slowly disintegrate. Head full of only Jeonghan. You urgently reached out to grab onto something to steady something, quickly opting for his hand that was wrapped around your neck. You gripped his forearm with both hands, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your vision goes unfocused as your orgasm hits, letting out weak moans and gasps as the feeling consumes you entirely. Feeling it course through your whole body all the way down to your toes. Your walls constrict around Jeonghan the whole time, urging his own orgasm to hit him fast.

“Gonna cum” Jeonghan warns. His thrusts turn erratic as he lets out a string of guttural groans.

“Inside” You plead, “Need you to fill me up again please Jeonghan” Jeonghan moans loudly at that, your begging pushing him all the way over the edge. His eyes shut tightly and he groans out loudly. His body tensing up as he fills you up entirely.

“Gonna be a good girl and keep that inside you yeah? All your little friends oblivious of the way you just begged me to slut you out” Heat rushed to your cheeks at the way Jeonghan was humiliating you but you agreed either way. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up when you nodded your head with a small smile. He took time to calm down before he slipped out of you wordlessly, ignoring the way you whine at the feeling of emptiness and fixing your bikini bottoms to cover you up again.

After fixing himself up he spoke up again, “Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked, rather shyly, his demeanor a stark contrast to the Jeonghan that was pouding you into his backseat moments ago. You chuckled at his sheepishness. “Yes Jeonghan you can kiss me” Your voice was small but he didn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours once again, this time the kiss was much softer than before. His hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumbs to wipe your tears.

You pulled away first. “Let’s get going? I think I’m already late”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

“Why the fuck is he here?” Jeonghan muttered from beside you, watching as his teammate, Seungcheol approached your group. Ever the show off, Seungcheol was wearing only a pair of black swim shorts, showing off his toned body for everyone at the beach to see.

You turned to where Jeonghan was looking and lo and behold, there was Choi Seungcheol. You and Seungcheol had….history. Well, not really history but you two have been fucking for a couple months and you were fully aware that he is Jeonghan’s teammate and its not like you were picking out the Ferrari drivers in specific to sleep with. The two of them were the ones who came onto you first.

“Seungcheol?” You gasped, not expecting him to show up after rudely (not really) canceling on you. You felt Jeonghan’s arm tentatively wrap around your waist as Seungcheol approached.

“Hey baby!” Seungcheol grinned, completely ignoring Jeonghan on your side, with his arm obviously wrapped around your waist. You heard Jeonghan mutter a small ‘baby??’ under his breath while continuing to faux nonchalance.

“Hi Cheol! I thought you were gonna hang with Seokmin today?”

“Well, I was, but Seokmin had to meet with Chan today” He shrugged, smiling wider showing off his stunning smile that initially captivated you.

“Oh! Cheol, this is Jeonghan” You were quick to detangle yourself from Jeonghan’s arms, standing awkwardly in between the two men who were finally forced to make eye contact (thanks to you)

“This is the new guy you fuck? Really? Had to be my teammate?” Seungcheol scoffed, losing the smile once adorning his face.

“ Uh yeah, Hannie, this is Seungcheol.”

“The other guy you fuck.”

“Well, yes.”

Jeonghan wasn’t too phased at first, especially considering it was Jeonghan’s cum currently inside you and not Seungcheol’s. Jeonghan sighed before speaking out once again,

“Okay...let’s play ball?”

“Let’s play.” And the three of you set out to join the rest of the group where they played volleyball.

Jeonghan teamed with three of your three coworkers, Soonyoung, Yuta and Xiaojun. While Seungcheol teamed with your other coworkers, Vernon, Jaehyun and Joshua (yes, the same Joshua). You self appointed yourself as the referee for the round because you obviously didn’t want Jeonghan’s cum splattering out of you while you played.

That would not be ideal in front of your coworkers.

As the round started, you noticed that Seungcheol in particular was putting a little too much effort into this, as if he had something to prove. Which you weren’t wrong, he did. He wanted to prove he was way better than Jeonghan at this (among other things.) but Jeonghan was hitting the ball back with little to no effort.

You watched, amused as the two men on the court played as if no one else was around, as if it was a battle and they had to get past each other to make it to the final round. You think it might

You were right, Seungcheol did have something to prove. He wanted to prove that he was the better one out of the two of them, as if it wasn’t Jeonghan’s cum currently in you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a LOUD shriek. Only to see that Xiaojun was on the floor, holding his head in his hands while he cried out pathetically.

“Xiaojun what happened!?” You ran towards the man on the floor.

“Seungcheol spiked the ball and it hit Xiaojun’s head” Soonyoung explained hurriedly, jumping in to do a poor attempt of CPR on him (though he’s a lifeguard. You’re not too sure how he got hired in the first place).

“Get off me!” Xiaojun screamed when Soonyoung leaned in to give him mouth-to-mouth.

“I got hit in the head I don’t need CPR idiot”

You did notice though, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were still playing amongst each other, not a clue in the world that they just took Xiaojun out and everyone was crowding around him. Well not anymore, Xiaojun was up and crowded away with Yuta and Soonyoung. You’d assume he was talking mad shit about the man who hit him in the head and didn’t even care to check on him.

Typical Xiaojun.

Also typical Seungcheol.

As the round progressed, Xiaojun and Soonyoung dipped first, going off to get back to their jobs, then Yuta and Jaehyun also went on to do their own things and take care of their shift duties until finally Joshua and Vernon were about to head out too.

“Dude, what the hell is their problem?” Joshua murmured, rolling his eyes at the two men still actively playing ball without noticing the absence of the others.

You shrugged, “They’re both teammates and mad that I’m fucking them both. They both have something to prove to the other” You leaned in closer to whisper to Joshua.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

jeonghan: hi y/n :) you: hi jeonghan :)

jeonghan: i wanna see you :(

you: aw really?

you: my jeonghannie wants to see me o.O

jeonghan: yes :( jeonghan: please?

You snickered as you hit send on the video. A video of you while you were on your knees for a man whose face was not in the frame. With your lips wrapped around his cock - though unable to fully wrap around him. While you hollow your cheeks, lowering further down. The man grips your hair, holding your head still as you gag around his cock.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like a champ, princess.” He praises you. Hips bucking forward letting out raspy groans.

That’s when he sees it.

What was it? It was a silver ring with the word ‘Ferrari’ engraved on it adorning the man’s pinky finger, identical to the one on his own.

The same ring that only two people would have. Him and his fuckass teammate.

You fucking sent him a video of you sucking off Seungcheol.

jeonghan: is that who i fucking think it is?? jeonghan: be so fucking fr.

jeonghan: i'm coming over.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

“Please give it to me, fuck, Jeonghan,” you stuttered, breaking away from the kiss to whine against his lips. He spent much too long rubbing his tip along your slit and you could not stand it anymore, you needed him in you immediately.

“Why don’t you ask Seungcheol hm? I’m sure he’d give you what you want more than I will” His tone was taunting, he was obviously still bitter about the stunt you pulled earlier. Not that it bothered you though, it just made the sex even more exhilarating. To know that Jeonghan is actually bothered by the video made you feel sort of giddy.

You whined when he sunk barely just the tip inside of you before pulling it out again. Your grip in his hair tightening as you felt the need to have him buried deep in you grow more and more. “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.” You whined more, hoping Jeonghan would give in and he did, pushing into you ever so slowly but he made up for it by pressing his lips onto yours again.

“You know I’m not going easy on you tonight, right?” Your lover of the night bottomed out in you, smiling at the way he could see you going dumb on his cock and he hasn't even done anything yet.

“God, I’d hope not”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You haven't seen Jeonghan or Seungcheol in two weeks.

Seungcheol has been AWOL but Jeonghan has been texting you nonstop. It was nothing sexual like the first few times he texted you. It was wholesome? Texts full of Jeonghan checking up on you, asking about you, wondering if you had eaten etc.

This time however, Jeonghan texted you something different?

An article.

F1 - Ferrari sealed 1-2 in Silverstone ahead of Kim Mingyu.

you: what the fuck is a 1-2 and why did ur team seal it

jeonghan: i won p1 and seungcheol won p2 jeonghan: party tomorrow jeonghan: ill end the deets. i better see you there

you: wtf?? thats AMAZING jeonghan congrats <33333 you: yeah, send the details ill be there :) you: see you tomorrow!

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You weren’t used to seeing Jeonghan and Seungcheol in the same setting, not after that hell of a volleyball game. And apparently you won't see them together this time around either because you’ve been at this party for half an hour and have seen every other driver on the grid except the two men you actually wanted to see. You decided you’d just sit at the bar and sip on yet another vodka tonic. You watched the rest of the partygoers drink away and dance together while you sat here miserably waiting to find any of your two fuck buddies.

Until you were pulled from your misery by none other than Seungcheol.

“And why do you look so miserable?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. Your face lit up at his voice, “Cheol!” You grinned for the first time since you got here.

“I’ve been by myself all night, Jeonghan invited me but i haven't seen him anywhere” You shrugged. Seungcheol watched as you downed the rest of your drink before he led you away from the main party area, pulling you into a dim corner.

“You know, I’ve been dreaming about your lips on mine since the last time you came over” Your lips curled into a smirk at that, “Yeah? Are you gonna do anything about it?”

Oh, he was.

Seungcheol angles his head to perfectly lower his lips onto yours. Like any kiss with Cheol, it has you dazed and yearning for more, your fingers gripping at his shirt to pull him as close to you as possible.

You both part for air momentarily,looking into eachothers eyes with equally dazed stares. your heart racing from the thrill of making out with him where anyone could catch the two of you, not that you mind, but you’re sure Seungcheol’s career might. Though the thought doesn't last long until Seungcheol searches for your lips again, pressing his mouth hard against yours with not a care in the world as to who may see you.

Except the only person who saw you was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.

There was no word to describe how upset Jeonghan felt at that moment. You came to a party he invited you to, celebrating mainly him, where he spent an hour looking for you and youre making out with his fuckass TEAMMATE?

There were only two people that could save Jeonghan now.

Mingyu and Seungkwan.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

After he had to witness you and his teammate down each other’s throats the other day. Jeonghan is on a mission to win you over. There is no way he’ll let Seungcheol of all people get his girl.

Seungcheol wasn’t even looking to settle, Jeonghan was.

According to your two closest friends, Mingyu and Seungkwan, there were 3 things that Jeonghan could do that would win you over. Which happened to do with the 3 things you loved the most.

Music, Food, Sports.

…Well, that was the only input they gave him. He just had to figure the rest of it out himself.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

First thing: Music.

That was quite…simple? All he had to do was show you his fire music taste!

So the next time he picked you up he’d just blast his tunes in the car and that’d be sure to have you swooning.

Jeonghan rang your doorbell at 7:00pm on the dot. He seemed to have this whole evening planned out and you knew nothing except a text the day before asking if you were free at 7 today and it went on from there. He did specify to dress casual so you wore just a pair of shorts and a black tank top.

“Hey” You smiled wide, opening the door to see an equally casually dressed Jeonghan.

“Hey, you look cute.” You grinned at the compliment, gesturing inside for Jeonghan to come in but instead he just shook his head.

“Let’s go, I’ve got plans for us”

Jeonghan spent a good ten minutes trying to connect his bluetooth to his car, assuring you that you’d love the songs he’s picked out for tonight only to play the most ratchet music you think you’ve ever heard.

“What the hell is this Jeonghan?” You grimaced, appalled by his choice of music

“It’s Mozart!”

“How the fuck does that make it better?”

Jeonghan only sighed and handed you his phone with his music app opened.

“Play whatever you want”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Second thing: Food

Jeonghan’s attempt to be…romantic? Was not as successful as you think he’d hoped. His plan was to cook together while sipping wine and have a cute little night.

Cooking with someone was not something you enjoyed.

Jeonghan was on vegetable duty while you were on sauce duty. Though time with Jeonghan was enjoyable, what you did not enjoy was him repeatedly coming in your way while you maneuvered around the kitchen.

“Jeonghan, MOVE” Your frustration reached its max when Jeonghan was hunched over, eyes watery from the onions he was cutting but he was hunched right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you with no space to pass.

“I CAN’T SEE” He screeched, finding his way over to the sink in an attempt to rinse out his eye.

God, he’s such a dork.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The last part of Jeonghan’s plan was to woo you with Sports.

There was no better sport to enjoy with you other than his own! He’ll just invite you to the race this week!

jeonghan: hey jeonghan: you wanna come to the race this weekend? Its in hungary its gonna run friday-sunday but we arrive on thursday jeonghan: tix on me :)

you: wtf?? of COURSE i want to go :O

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

And just like that, you found yourself in a hotel in Hungary on a random Thursday morning. Well, it wasn’t random, you were invited to the Hungarian Grand Prix by none other than Yoon Jeonghan himself.

Speaking of, Jeonghan had asked if you wanted to go explore the village with him on your off day and who were you to deny an offer like that? So here you were, rushing your makeup at 9 in the morning. Jeonghan was supposed to come to your room at about 9:30 so you have less than thirty minutes to be ready and out the door.

Jeonghan showed up at your hotel room at 9:30 on the dot, wearing a variant of an outfit youve seen him wear a million times, baggy jeans with an oversized shirt. True Jeonghan fashion you’d say.

“Good morning beautiful” He greeted, walking into your hotel room and closing the door behind him before backing you up against the wall.

“Good morning handsome” You can't lie and say you didn't internally cringe at that, no matter how true the words actually were. Jeonghan himself grimaced, his face centimeters away from your own “Never say that again please”

You rolled your eyes, “God forbid a woman try complimenting a man for once”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You and Jeonghan spent all day exploring the city. Going from coffee shop to coffee shop, spending hours walking aimlessly around and even checking out the track. You enjoyed Jeonghan’s company more than you’d like to admit. Jeonghan was a witty guy. He was funny, hot, really fucking good in bed but most of all he was genuine. That’s one thing you loved about Jeonghan that Seungcheol didn’t have. Where Jeonghan’s intentions with you were clear as day, Seungcheol? You were not too sure what the fuck his intentions were with you.

You knew you weren’t technically supposed to dig this deep into either of them. After all, they were just your fuckbuddies, people you only saw when you were horny and needed release but you still couldn't help but feel more drawn to Jeonghan than you did Seungcheol.

Jeonghan was a genuinely good person whose company you actually enjoyed and you knew he did enjoy yours too. Seungcheol however ignored all your texts until he was the one that needed release and you didn’t have a problem with that until now. Until Jeonghan brought it up.

“You know, I really like spending time with you. Aside from the sex” It came from out of the blue when the two of you were walking back to your hotel.

“So the sex just sucks huh?” You looked at him with a mischievous grin

“You know that’s not what i meant”

“I know, I really enjoy spending time with you too Jeonghan” He smiled at that, pulling you closer by the hip until you were pressed right by his side. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again.

“You know, you should stop seeing Seungcheol”

You chuckled, this wasn’t the first time Jeonghan has hinted towards how much he doesn’t like you fucking his teammate.

“Yeah, okay”

“I'm serious! It might have to do with the fact im like fucking obsessed with you or the fact that I know Seungcheol doesn’t want you like I do but I swear, the way i want you does not compare to the way he wants you” Your eyebrows raised at that, you knew you prefer Jeonghan over Seungcheol but hearing him tell you why you should pick him over Seungcheol is just all the more satisfying.

“Why do you think so?”

“Because-!” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, not wanting to tell you how much he wants you. How he stays up thinking about how it’d be if you were his.

“Because I like you beyond the sex, I want a relationship with you. I don’t wanna have to share you with anyone because I’m greedy and I want you for myself. I wanna show you off as mine without anyone else coming in the way. I want you Y/N”

You stopped in your tracks, prompting him to stop with you as well. “You want to date me?”

“Really fucking bad. Please let me?”

“Okay” You nodded, acting nonchalant on the outside when you were actually going fucking insane on the inside. “I’ll be your girlfriend but only if you ask me out properly” Jeonghan all but jumped for joy, screaming a couple choruses of “YES!!”

“Y/N, light of my life, will you please be my girlfriend?” he playfully rolled his eyes

“I’d love to!” you smiled wide, his own smile mirroring yours before he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, in the middle of a street in Mogyoród.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The next morning, Seungcheol was just doing his normal pre race rituals when all of a sudden he heard an awful lot of giggling just outside of his room.

What the hell could be so funny right before a race?

He swung his door open only to see Jeonghan sitting on the couch while you sat on his lap, one leg on either side of him while the two of you smooched away like a couple of highschoolers on their first date.

“I think I can come P1 today! After All, I have my beautiful girlfriend here to cheer me on” Jeonghan teased, cupping your face so he can press yet another kiss to your lips.

“Yeah? Good luck out there boyfriend. I’ll be cheering for you”

Girlfriend??? Boyfriend??? Since fucking when? The last time Seungcheol remembers, you were not looking for anything close to even a situationship, let alone a relationship.

That kinda explains it too, you’d been too busy with your stupid boyfriend to return any of his calls or texts for the past few days too. This is exactly why Seungcheol hated couples. Gross.

Screw Yoon Jeonghan, he stole his girl in plain sight.

Well, not really his girl. Realistically Seungcheol was just tryna hit. Much like yourself until you met Yoon fucking Jeonghan.

Cheol knew he wasn't all that upset about the situation but he had to mess with Jeonghan just for the fun of it and man was he geeked.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You couldnt fucking believe what you were seeing. Today was the day of the first two free practices and the only two drivers on the track who were not behaving were none other than your very own.

Normally, Jeonghan and Seungcheol would stay very…civil during their races but something was off today. Jeonghan was minding his business, leading the race like he usually does until in comes Choi Seungcheol and overtakes him.

So naturally, Jeonghan starts to speed up and get back in the lead. Which lasts maybe a minute until in comes Choi fucking Seungcheol again and runs him off the track.

What the hell was Seungcheol’s problem today?

The race continued to be a mess of Seungcheol messing with Jeonghan, overtaking him then running him off the track and repeating it. You could tell Jeonghan was getting frustrated. Hell, even you were getting frustrated.

Did Seungcheol find out about you and Jeonghan?

God, you’d hope this wasn't the result of Seungcheol’s…jealousy? There really wasn't anything to be jealous about on his end but still, if it was, that’s not okay and you were going to speak to him about it. The race went on like that, with Cheol repeatedly provoking Jeonghan and Jeonghan fighting back. You could hear the chattering of the people around you talking about the two of them and how it was ‘so odd that they’re acting this way!’

As expected, Jeonghan came P1 and Seungcheol came P3. P2 was none other than your best friend, Boo Seungkwan! The race went surprisingly well after the second to last lap and continued to trail behind Jeonghan who was in P1.

“Jeonghan!” You squealed, embracing him in the tightest hug possible but immediately pulling away when you made contact with his sweaty body.

“Baby” He whined, pulling you back into his embrace, ignoring your noises of protest. You gave up the fight without much convincing, hugging him back tight and congratulating him over and over.

“Wait, I’ll be back.”

You excused yourself from Jeonghan and went on to find the one and only..

“Choi Seungcheol!” You muttered, aggressively making your way over to the ever so sweaty man sipping away at his Hydrorace water bottle.

“Hey gorgeous” He cheekily smiled at you, pulling the straw away from his lips. You scoffed, annoyed by how calm he seemed after what he pulled out on the track today.

“Don’t ‘hey gorgeous’ me, what the hell was that on the track today? You know either one of you could have gotten hurt, right?” You were practically fuming.

“You know I'm smart enough to not let either of us get hurt out there right?” He mimicked your tone. Whatever he said didn’t matter in the moment, you were too heated to even think straight.

“Talk to me when you’ve calmed down, Y/N.” And with that, he walked away from you.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

It was finally time for confrontation.

You pulled out your phone camera to make sure you look decent enough to confront Seungcheol. Once you made sure you looked okay, you tucked it away in your back pocket. Taking a deep sigh before knocking on Seungcheol’s hotel room, waiting for him to open the door. “Hey, Cheol…” You greet hesitantly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you, locking it shut just in case.

“Y/n…it’s so nice to see you!” Seungcheol smiled bitterly. “After you practically blew up on me in front of everyone today.” His fake ass smile dropped.

You grimaced, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be like that, I just want to apologize.” You offered a small smile.

“Delta time can be time too late, Y/N.”

If there was an embodiment of a question mark, it would be you right now. “You know I don't understand when you use racing speak, Seungcheol.”

“Delta time…anyway, just, don’t worry about it. I know you made your choice. Especially by the way you just full-named me. ”

“Cheol-”

“We had a good run, yeah? don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “This doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends though you know. I just want you to be happy even if it’s not with me and with my…teammate.” You could sense the lack of sincerity at the end. Seungcheol was not happy about this and you knew that.

“Thank you Cheol” You smiled, opening your arms and offering him a hug which he gladly accepted, engulfing you in the most warm hug you’ve ever received from him.

It wasn’t easy to let Cheol go but you had to do this for Jeonghan.

You were the first to pull away from the hug. You gave him a smile before turning on your heels.

“See you at the race on Sunday?”

“You know it.”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

“It’s just me and you baby” Jeonghan breathed against your lips, pinning you up against the wall and relishing in the way you sigh out in relief when he finally presses his lips to yours. “Be as loud as you want love”

Jeonghan knew damn well it was not just the two of you, somewhere in one of the stalls was Seungcheol. He was about to walk out when he heard you and Jeonghan at the door and ran into a stall to avoid being caught.

“Please Jeonghan” You whimpered when he pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, “Touch me, please?”

“I am touching you”

“Jeonghan” Your voice raises a pitch. Jeonghan can’t stand it, he loves how your squirm and whimper, so desperate to get fucked by him. Something in him loves how pretty you sound when you beg, especially when you scream his name with your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Please, please fuck me…”

“Shut up.” He groans, proceeding to jackhammer two fingers inside of you. You yelped in surprise, leaning back onto the wall, gripping onto Jeonghan’s arm to hold yourself up. Jeonghan’s other hand trails up and covers your eyes. Hold around your head tight, leaving you more vulnerable to his ministrations.

“I want your cock Jeonghan, please” He loved that your noises were getting louder but he knew that when you finally got his cock you’d be even louder. Just what he wants for your little audience. Jeonghan halts his fingers in you and smears the wetness all over your aching pussy.

“Pussy’s so wet for me, know why?” Jeonghan smirks, “Cause you’re a fucking slut, and all sluts know how to do is take cock.” And without warning, he glides the entirety of his length in at the same time and you were left gasping at the stretch.

“J-Jeonghan..” you moaned loud, “You’re so fucking big. Oh my fucking God.” Jeonghan chuckled, setting a brutal pace from the start. You could never get tired of fucking Jeonghan, every time with Jeonghan bringing you to a new wave of euphoria even you couldnt fathom.

“Yeah? Who fucks you this good huh?” Jeonghan wrapped his hand, previously covering your eyes around your throat and applying just enough pressure to make you see stars. “You, Jeonghan! Only you can fuck me this good” His thrusts were sloppy but they were so hard and deep. Tears rolled down your cheeks with every thrust as your body buzzed with pleasure.

“Good fucking girl” He praised, “You’re so good to me aren’t you?” You couldn’t respond. You don’t think you had it in you to say anymore. Just letting moan after moan leave your lips as you writhed under his hold.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling at the way you attempted to kiss him back.

“My pretty girl, only mine.”

#seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #svt smut

1K notes · View notes

bucketsofmonsters · 11 months ago

Text

A Diplomatic Error

cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

male orc x fem reader

Word count: 9k

You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say.

Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him.

The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town.

So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing.

It didn’t. It just felt lonely.

As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth.

When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.

You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape.

You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright.

Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.

You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step.

It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now.

His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.

“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter.

He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.

“As you wish.”

Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere.

You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on.

You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder.

Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face.

You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand.

In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here.

Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest.

As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.

As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue.

And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.

You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”

You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.

You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went.

You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you.

The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you.

He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch.

“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud.

You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”

“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.

Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”

“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”

He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”

You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”

You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily.

You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center.

He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty.

When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something.

He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when.

Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face.

As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken.

Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier.

But anger was good. At least anger felt productive.

You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was.

The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled.

“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice.

You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you.

His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again.

“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”

You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape.

The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible.

And then you were on the move.

You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you.

Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.

After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence.

“You’re slow.”

“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts.

“And who is to blame for that?”

You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”

“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”

He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out.

It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did.

Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes.

You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down.

It seemed you were wrong.

Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp.

Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots.

You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm.

You did not listen.

Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so.

As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you.

He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”

“What?”

“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”

“It’s a river.”

He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”

“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”

He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”

You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way.

You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses.

You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this.

You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed.

At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance.

You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”

“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”

He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”

“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”

He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts.

“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively.

Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”

And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water.

The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean.

You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water.

You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.

When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left.

You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind?

No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you.

You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones.

As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found.

In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt.

Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know.

You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now.

They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly.

As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here.

But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down.

As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape.

You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off.

You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors.

As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting.

You were faster this way. That was what counted.

You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.

“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”

A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest.

Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now.

You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again.

Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet.

It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke.

“Do you have a name?”

“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers.

“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.

He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return.

His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying.

When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance.

The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off.

Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you.

He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”

“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”

He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”

“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”

“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”

So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat.

He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”

Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far.

He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn.

You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.

If you were saved.

You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls.

Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke.

As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”

You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first.

“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”

You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now.

“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears.

You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you.

The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”

“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”

The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”

“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.

“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”

“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”

With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent.

After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat.

That was it. There was no one coming.

He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings.

“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”

“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”

“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?

Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”

Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”

“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”

You shrugged. “You could kill me.”

“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”

He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more.

It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt.

But even if you’d shut down, the world had not.

And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent.

He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore.

You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them?

As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?

You wanted answers.

You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath.

You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”

He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”

You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.

You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again.

“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”

“I will not fight for you,” you spat.

“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”

He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.

You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar.

“What was that?”

“An attacker. A foolish little man.”

You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’

“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”

You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”

“Because I told them.”

You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”

“Your people didn’t seem to care.”

“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”

You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them.

You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running.

It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go.

Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace.

You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way.

You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity.

Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”

“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”

“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.

You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”

Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given.

“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked.

“It is not just. I will not kill you.”

“So what now?”

“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”

It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.

“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”

“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”

Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”

“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”

You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”

“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”

“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”

He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”

“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”

“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”

“You know that’d not what I mean.”

“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”

You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”

He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”

You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”

It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave.

This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run.

As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent.

You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before.

You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to.

As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway.

You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent.

He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”

You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”

He froze, his shoulders tensing.

You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”

“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head.

“How could you know?”

He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”

Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”

You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far.

“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”

He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent.

“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”

Oh.

The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes

You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.”

He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”

“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”

Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”

His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”

He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”

You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way.

“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him.

“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”

“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.

“About my intention to court you.”

You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice.

“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”

You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”

He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.

“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor.

Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast.

And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether.

It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed.

He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.

But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.

He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”

You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”

He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”

He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”

That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”

You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship.

While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you.

As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth.

He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds.

His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him.

His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you.

Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto.

His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did.

As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts.

You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent.

You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face.

You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming.

You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”

He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”

He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.

It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal.

No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust.

And then, as it went further and further, it became too much,

You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm.

He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you.

You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you.

You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did.

He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”

You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily.

So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared.

“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”

“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him.

He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.

His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone.

As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight.

He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come.

His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him.

He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest.

You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you.

He didn’t seem to care at all.

“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears.

“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”

You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend.

But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it.

“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.

He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”

You snorted.

“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him.

“You reject that fool's advances.”

You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”

“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”

That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”

He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”

You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”

“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”

You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?”

You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.

He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.

Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”

“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”

He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”

You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”

“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

#orc x reader #orc #terato #monster bf #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #orc boyfriend #orc romance #Bridal carries are also called princess carries and I think it’s so cute that that’s how he picks her up at the end #This wasn’t even the prompt that won the orc poll lol #This is not a democracy apparently

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luxaofhesperides · 4 months ago

Text

the lost brother - damian

There is static in his ears.

There is a baby in his arms.

His niece. His niece from a brother dead before he was born. The daughter of Danyal, his mother's greatest regret, the ghost haunting his childhood, the brother he never got to have.

She is so small in his arms. Still. Quiet.

It frightens him, cradling such a fragile life in his arms. He's not good with most people, let alone a baby.

Danyal must have been truly desperate to leave her with him.

"Robin."

The voice makes the world come rushing back into place. Damian moves before he thinks, turning his body to shield his niece from danger, but it's only Red Robin standing before him. He stares, wide eyed, until Red Robin pushes his cowl back and Drake stands before him, expression carefully neutral. He doesn't look at the baby in Damian's arms. He only looks at Damian.

"Robin, come on. The Batmobile is right below us."

Damian hesitates, then follows Drake to the edge of the roof. He takes the fire escape down, landing carefully so he doesn't jostle the baby in his arms, and Drake grapples down a moment later, carefully maintaining the distance between them.

He knows it's to keep Damian from feeling trapped, and he's stupidly grateful, though he'll never say so.

The rest of the family will be a pain to deal with. They will demand answers he doesn't have, invade his space, insist on taking his niece from him. At least Drake is quiet and willing to observe without interference beyond getting them all home.

As promised, the Batmobile waits for them in the alley. Drake holds the door open and Damian slides in, adjusting his niece to make sure she's comfortable. She blinks up at him with dark blue eyes.

How strange. He had expected them to be green.

Drake drives them, speaking in short bursts into his comm. Damian brings a hand up to his own, realising rather belatedly that it's muted. Oracle must have grown annoyed at the barage of questions heading his way and silenced them for him.

He'll have to thank her later, once things have settled down.

For now, all his attention is on his little baby niece. What did Danyal say her name was?

Ellie.

Ellie Ellie Ellie.

She reaches up with a small hand, curious, and Damian offers a finger for her to latch on to. Her grip isn't strong, and her hand is small and barely warm.

He holds her closer for the rest of the ride home.

Father wants to take Ellie away for tests. Damian refuses to let go of her, going as far as leveling a sword at anyone who tries.

Drake is the only one who offers to only draw the barest minimum amount of blood for a DNA test, all while Damian holds her.

This, he accepts.

The others hover in his periphery, muttering amongst themselves, but Damian cares little for their thoughts and judgements. He was given Ellie for the sole purpose of caring for her. He will not fail in his duty. If it comes to it that he has to hide away with Mother for the rest of them to calm down, then he will. Surely she'll want to be involved with her granddaughter.

He'll have to tell her about Danyal, anyways.

Father stays at the computer, watching as the results load. He does not look away from the screen to even greet Ellie.

Damian pushes down his bitterness. He knows well the kind of man Father is, now. This is expected of him.

It's Richard that stays by him, hurrying across the Cave with an armful of diapers and baby clothes.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got a bit of everything," he explains, setting everything down on the cot where Damian sits with Ellie. Richard cut his patrol short as soon as Danyal left and made an emergency run to the nearest store with baby supplies, pulling sweatpants and a jacket over his Nightwing suit. The collar of the suit peeks out from beneath his jacket, and Damian is sure that it's only the late hour that kept anyone from asking too many questions while Richard was shopping.

"Thank you," Damian mutters. He sets Ellie down carefully, and she blinks up at him with tired eyes. Her face is round with baby fat, but not by much. "How do I…?"

"I think I know how to change a diaper," Richard offers, already pulling a fresh one out of the pack. He gets a small pack of baby wipes out of his pocket and quickly undoes the diaper on Ellie, wiping her down. Damian watches carefully, committing each step to memory as Richard changes her diaper and makes sure she's comfortable.

They're all out of their depths, Damian realizes. Have any of them actually cared for a baby? Pennyworth might have had some idea, and though he died a few years ago, the loss of him aches sharply even now.

"We'll have to figure out how old she is before we get any food for her," Richard murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger against her cheek. His eyes are soft, sad, and Damian lets out a slow breath, relived to know he can trust Richard with Ellie. "What happened?"

It's the question everyone's been asking him, and Damian has refused to answer each time.

But he will answer Richard.

"I saw a person on the edge of the roof as I patrolled. I went down to bring them to safety. He was… I had an older brother who died before I was born. But I know what he looks like. It was him, on that roof."

"You think he came back to life?"

"He must have. He was placed in a Lazarus Pit, but Mother said it didn't bring him back. Perhaps it just took time."

"What made you think it was him, if you've never met him?"

Damian thinks back. The man on the roof was a few years older than Drake, thin and worn-down. His eyes caught Damian's attention first; al Ghul's have very distinctive eyes, and it seems they both inherited that trait from Mother. Beyond that…

Lazarus Pits have magic in them. They wouldn't be able to do what they did without it. Those revived by Lazarus Pits carry some of it with them; it's not Pit Rage, which fades within an hour, but something else that leaves them on the boundary of inhuman. Damian grew up around the Pits and people who used them. He knows what the magic of the Pits feels like, and he could feel it in Danyal.

"I just knew," Damian answers. "Should Mother ever meet him, she'll be able to tell you the same thing: that was Danyal. And this is his daughter."

"Do you know why he left his daughter with you?"

"He asked if Batman was a good father. If I was safe here. Only then did he give Ellie to me."

"He could have stayed to," Richard says, sadness coloring his tone.

Damian doesn't respond. What could he say? Yes, Danyal could have stayed and joined them. He chose not to, for whatever reason. They have not found him yet, and Damian doubts they will find him any time soon.

Danyal is the first son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne. He will not be found until he wants to be.

Damian will have to wait until then.

The DNA results come back after eight rounds of testing.

Ellie is indeed Damian's niece.

The closest matches to her in the database are Damian and Bruce, which all but confirms that Danyal is indeed the first blood son of the Bat.

Father stares down at Ellie with an unreadable look on his face. He doesn't try to hold her; Damian doesn't know if he should be grateful for this or not.

"I have another son," he says. "And neither you nor your mother ever told me."

"He was dead," Damian answers, "What use would a dead child be to you? Even I never met him until tonight. He was gone long before I was born."

"He's still my son!"

"He's a stranger," Damian bites back. "Why do you pretend to care now? He has never been a part of our lives before. You won't even hold his daughter."

Father flinches back, just slightly, but it's enough to know that the barb hit. Damian gathers Ellie up into his arms and heads for the stairs. "I will be going to sleep now. Ellie will stay with me. You are welcome to stay down here to search for Danyal, or you can get some rest to join me in shopping for Ellie. I will call Mother. Good night."

The others don't have the decency to wait until he's completely out of the Cave before they begin shouting amongst themselves. Damian clicks his tongue and looks down at Ellie, who's sleeping peacefully.

"Let's hope you grow up to have more sense than them," he says to her.

He lays her on top of the blankets, then curls up next to her. It's a long time before he's able to fall asleep.

Mother calls first thing in the morning. Damian's barely had time to brush his teeth before his phone is ringing, and he has to rush to catch it before the call ends.

"Is it true?" she demands as soon as he answers, "Was it Danyal?"

Damian bites back a curse. He said he'd call her. It would have been best if he had been the one to break the news, rather than anyone else, but it doesn't surprise him that no one listened.

"It's true," he says. "Danyal was in Gotham last night. He left his daughter in my care before disappearing. I was unable to speak to him more."

"How can that be," she says, breathless, "It's been decades since his death. The Lazarus Pit never returned him to me."

"It was him. That's all I know."

There's a pause as his mother gathers her composure. Then she says, "I will be in Gotham in a week. I will not be kept out of my granddaughter's life."

"I will make sure we have a room ready for you."

"Good. Take care, habibi."

The call ends without any other fanfare. Damian drops his head with a sigh and tosses his phone back onto his desk.

On his bed, Ellie is sitting up, watching him curiously.

"You and your father have caused a lot of trouble already," he tells her, and she claps her hands together.

When he goes downstairs, he immediately makes note of Drake and Brown's presence with displeasure. His hopes for a quiet morning are dashed before he even reached the kitchen.

"There you are!" Brown says far too loudly. She bounds up to him, ignoring his scowl, and peers at Ellie. "Hm, I'd guess around nine to eleven months, accounting for FTT and some malnutrition."

"FTT?" he repeats.

"Failure to thrive. If infants aren't care for properly, which includes cuddling, then they just… don't grow as they should. They end up smaller and weaker than is expected for their age."

"I imagine she was not taken care of properly, wherever she was before. She wouldn't have been left with me otherwise."

Brown looks troubled, but she blinks it away and smiles when Ellie reaches up to grab at her nose. "Hello there," she says in a soft voice, "I'm your favorite aunt. Don't forget that, alright! I'm your favorite."

Damian pushes her away. "She has no favorites."

"Not yet, but it'll definitely be me when she does!"

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"No. But, in all seriousness, me and Tim are here to help. He gave me a rundown and what happened and I still have a bunch of stuff from my pregnancy classes that can help you. We also got some baby food and milk and formula for the baby, since she'll need to eat and be burped. I can walk you through all of that so you can start getting some experience in baby care."

Ah. He had forgotten that Brown had once been pregnant. That she gave away her own baby.

It must be hard for her to be on the other end of that situation, to watch someone take in a baby whose parent couldn't properly care for her, to muster up a smile and all the information she has to make things better.

"I would… appreciate that, Brown."

"Good! Well, lesson one starts now."

She throws open the door to the kitchen, where Drake is pressing the tip of a feeding bottle against the inside of his wrist. "Come here," he says to Damian. "Hold out a hand."

Curious, Damian does as told, and watches as Drake pressed the warm tip of the bottle against his wrist, where liquid splots out onto his skin. "That's about how warm it should be when you feed her. Here." He presses the bottle into Damian's hands, and it takes some adjustment before he can feed Ellie, who starts off slowly, then with more energy.

Brown tosses a rag over his shoulder, and instructs him on how to burp Ellie once she's finished eating. She coughs up some formula, then settles back into his arms, eyes closing as she begins to doze.

"I'll handle shopping," Drake says. "You need a crib, right? Maybe some toys… Just text me a list, I'll get everything."

"Why are you doing all this?" Damian can't help but ask. "We are not exactly… close."

Drake blinks at him, as though he's confused. "Because a baby is a big responsibility. And just because we don't always get along doesn't mean we're not family. She's my neice too. Doesn't she deserve to have more people in her corner?"

Damian can't argue with that, so he nods and lets Drake go to buy whatever he thinks is necessary. Brown lingers in the kitchen, making breakfast for them both in between sneaking glances at Ellie. Usually being watched so obviously would have him on edge and snappy, but he understands the urge to keep looking; he also can't take his eyes off of Ellie.

For someone so small to go through such hardship already… he doesn't understand how anyone can look at her and not want to keep her safe.

He wonders if anyone is keeping Danyal safe.

As much as he wants to go after Danyal, search for his resurrected brother, Ellie takes priority.

She's the one who's here to stay, after all.

Father doesn't come up from the Batcave all day.

Damian tries not to hate him for it.

He doesn't think he succeeds.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #demon brothers #the harmless series #dcxdp fic #my writing #now comes complicated family!!!! hehehehe #yes alfred is dead. this takes place a few years after his death. so damian's around 15 and danny's about 24 #this will be explained more later. just know he was in that lab for a very long time.

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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago

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5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. + 1

“What is going on?” Batman asked the group as he swept into the room.

John stayed focused on the circle, not wanting to mess up now. It would be a lot of faff for nothing if he did.

“Constantine believes he has a contact to help us with our current issue,” Superman explained. “He is working on the summoning circle now.”

“Is that safe to do on the Watchtower?” Batman asked, as cautious as ever.

“Yeah, mate,” John answered for himself. “This one is a good one. Haven’t met them myself, but real helpful sort of fellow from everything I’ve heard. Or at least real helpful for the things that they can help with.”

Careful not to smudge any lines, John moved backwards out of the circle and gave it a good look over. The rest of the lot were talking about something, but if Batman hadn’t stopped him yet, John figured he was good and intended to keep working. A little slice to his finger, a few drops of blood, the right words, and it was done.

The white markings of the circle seemed to shudder and warp, like the lines on a desert street. Then they snapped a bright green and the inner lines seemed to fall away into an endless void. The void rippled and suddenly a hand reached out of it. The claws made the worst sound as they gripped into the metal floor.

Another hand joined it.

And then the being pulled themselves out of the summoning circle.

John knew better than to try and comprehend what he was seeing. It was all shadow and green flames and fear anyways.

“Who dares to call upon the Ghost King?” the being asked. The voice echoed through the room, through John’s head, through his soul. It sounded like a thousand screaming voices of the dead speaking all at once.

Toxic green eyes in the black mass swept over the group. It was like they were being seen; their souls, their very beings, every aspect of them flayed open and on display for this other worldly entity. John swallowed reflexively when the eyes paused on him for a moment. He wasn’t scared, but there was still a primal part of his brain that said he should run.

Then the gaze landed on Batman and stayed there. Superman stepped forward, slightly, as if to shield Batman from the being’s view.

The being didn’t seem to care and leaned forward up to the edge of the circle. “B?”

Batman inclined his head slightly, “Phantom.”

“Shit. This Justice League approved, huh? Sorry about the dramatics. Usually I only get summoned by cultists who want Pariah Dark, the old king, to give them power or cleanse the world of life or blah blah blah. Best to show up and put the fear of me into them,” the being said, motioning to themselves and all their horror. The reverb of their voice had settled some, now only like a few voices overlapping.

“Understandable,” Batman agreed, seemingly unaffected by it all.

John could only shrug incredulously at Superman’s questioning gaze. Fuck if he knew. Sure, Bats was unflappable, but everyone knew he avoided the supernatural stuff if he could.

The being pulled the last of itself out of the portal which sealed with a sickening squelch. “You could have just called though. Like, I get summoning is a quick way to travel, but it's a little painful."

“Painful?” Batman asked, turning to stare at John, who swallowed nervously at the cold tone.

“Yeah. This was a pretty clean circle though, props to the maker—”

“Thanks, I think?” John mumbled at he watched the being start to shift. It was like watching a black hole collapse in on itself.

“—so it's not that bad, but still it feels like ripping some duct tape off my skin or something,” the being continued. They were much more human shaped now, though they still smiled with an alarming number of very white teeth.

“We'll keep that in mind in the future. I was unaware of who, exactly, they were summoning.”

The rest of the roiling darkness settled on their shoulders like a half cape— one that seemed to hold the infinity of the night sky inside it. The vortex of flames settled into a crown of fire that floated above a head of stark white hair. They flexed their claws and the limbs settled into normal hands that they tucked into pockets of their three piece black suit with its sharp white accents. Then they stepped over the live of what was supposed to be an unbreakable summoning circle.

Like it was just waking through a door.

Like it was nothing.

John took a reflexive step back. This kind of rule breaking shit was exactly why he liked to avoid the Infinite Realms when he could; they were too chaotic to easily manage.

“All good,” they said with a shrug and a fanged smile. “So, what did you need the Ghost King for?”

Bruce watched Phantom scan the meeting room as they entered. Their eyes caught, just for a moment, and a million thoughts ran through Bruce’s head. Did he want to do this? Was it time? He trusted the Justice League. They had issues and conflicts, like any group, but they were heroes through and through.

Revealing this also did not mean revealing either of their civilian identities.

The nod was barely any movement at all, but Bruce knew that Phantom had caught it and understood. After so many years together, they hardly needed words, which Bruce often appreciated. Words had never been easy for Bruce. He worked on it for his family. He had to after…

Bruce forced himself not to think about that. Danny had saved Jason, even if the resulting years without Danny there were some of the hardest for the family. They were together again and better for it. Bruce let out a careful breath and took his normal seat.

“Thank you for your assistance, King Phantom,” Wonder Woman started. Phantom held up a hand.

“I didn’t say I could assist. I’ll listen and help if I can and see fit, but there are a great many things that are not mine to aid in,” Phantom said sternly, though his voice was carefully kind. “My influence is only over those closely tied to death and of the Infinite Realms. The living are outside of my jurisdiction.”

“Of course,” Superman said quickly as he could without rushing the words. “Listening is a great start. If you’ll take a seat.”

Phantom nodded and strode right past the indicated seat. With a casual ease that Bruce had always envied, Phantom sat on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“Um, King Phantom, your majesty?” Flash started nervously. “Batman doesn’t really like to be touched?”

“Really?” Phantom asked innocently. Bruce couldn’t see it, but knew exactly the smirk Phantom had as he leaned back to lounge against Bruce’s shoulder. (Bruce loved that smile.)

Bruce schooled his expression as he watched Flash and Hal exchange looks and frantic hand signs to each other.

J’onn tilted his head curiously as he took his own seat. Bruce could see J’onn come to an understanding as his eyes flickered down the the black metal brand around Phantom’s ring finger in the shape of a flying bat.

“Ah,” J’onn said softly.

“Ah? Ah what?” Flash asked, his words almost a whine. “What do you know?”

Bruce rested his hand lightly on Phantom’s hip, well aware that the motion was in sight of both Superman and Wonder Woman.

“Ah,” Wonder Woman said with a little smile. “J’onn knows something we all know, though not in this context. It is good to meet you, Phantom.”

“Good to meet you also, Wonder Woman. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Phantom said as she sat down next to them.

“I wish I could say the same,” she said with a teasing smile directed Bruce’s way.

“Hn.”

Phantom just laughed, the sound echoing like a ringing bell. “It’s okay, I know what B is like. Trust me, that you know anything at all is a big deal. He’s just bad at doing things the normal way.”

Bruce held back a sigh and just pinched Phantom’s side again, making the other squeak and backhand Bruce in the chest.

“Holy shit!” Hal jutted a finger at Phantom. “You’re Batman’s husband!”

“Guilty as charged,” Phantom said.

“Wait, no, you’re what?” Flash asked and zipped closer to the table. “Huh. You are so not what I expected. I mean, I guess ghost plus Spooky works but you’re so… lively! Wait— is that like, offensive to call the dead lively?”

Phantom laughed again and shook his head. “No, but not everyone in the realms will take it as a compliment. I don’t mind and besides, I’m only half-dead.”

“Half-dead?” Superman asked with his brow furrowed worriedly.

Phantom just waved the concern away. “It’s complicated. Mostly it just means that I still get to live out my human life as simply a human. Ghosts move slower, having eternity and all, so there’s not too much for me to do as the king other than attend to summons and make slow changes.”

“So,” Hal started, ignoring Bruce’s glare and sliding into a seat finally. “You’re married to Batman in your civilian form as well?”

“Of course, it would be silly otherwise,” Phantom said and then added, “and no, I won’t tell you who B is. That’s for him to choose.”

“Okay, but like, we can talk to you, right?” Flash asked, eager as ever.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? But work first. What do you think I can help you all with?”

Bruce moved his hand to rest on the small of Phantom’s back and watched his husband command the room like the king he was.

--- AN: and here's the last part! The JL finally meet Batman's husband, or at least once side of him!

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #bruce/danny

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rbfclassy · 5 months ago

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A GOOD POUNDING! — TOJI + SUKUNA

SYNOPSIS...toji or sukuna fucking you so good that you can barely think, the only problem is that you can’t make any noise or he’ll stop

INFO...toji x fem!reader, sukuna x fem!reader, mirror sex, carry fucking, degrading, praise, they’re kinda mean, rough sex, pussy slaps, dacryphilia, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Just imagine toji or sukuna fucking you so good, his big strong arms holding you up, your arms wrapped around his neck as his dick pistons in out of you, leaving your mind spiraling. Your toes are curling at the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your g-spot, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. You’re panting, biting harshly on your bottom lip, eyes screwed shut because if you make any noise, he won’t hesitate to pull out and leave you and needy, whiny mess. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, juices cascading down his shaft and to his balls, making it sloppy between you two.

“You better not make a fucking sound or I’ll stop fucking this tight pussy,” he grunts. It’s so hard to keep quiet with how deep he was, the pleasure coursing through you wasn’t helping in the slightest. “Look,” he chuckles, “look at how much of a mess you’re making on my cock.” He nods towards the mirror, a smug smirk on his face as he easily lifts your hips. You look over your shoulder towards the mirror, seeing the effects of your creamy pussy. “Poor baby wants to cum so bad, huh?” He thrusts his hips into you unexpectedly, nearly making you yelp. You stare at him with such desperate eyes, practically begging him to let you at least make some type of noise.

It wouldn’t be too much longer until you did, his hips slamming back into your sopping cunt, making your eyes rolling back. His pace picks up, guiding your hips down to his as he watches the way your ass ripples against his pelvis. He’s being mean, fucking you harder and faster cause he wants to see you break. Your nails claw against his back, holding onto his for dear life, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your lips are pursed shut, digging your head into the crook of his neck as you tried to conceal the moans that wanted to escape to badly. The familiar feeling of your orgasm began approaching and you can’t hold it back anymore. “Please, please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You’re crying, tears pricking your eyes.

“What a fucking slut you are.” He pulls out of you without hesitation, leaving you squirming in his grip, hole clenching around nothing. “Can’t you listen to a word I say?”

“I’m sorry! Please just keep fucking me! I need you so bad,” You beg, growing so desperate you try and reach around to shove his cock back inside. He takes joy in the way you whimper, a frown on your face as tears well in your eyes.

“Only good girls get to cum.” He tosses you on the bed, leaving your swollen pussy exposed. He hovers over you, a large hand pushing one of your legs back to get a good view at your slick folds. Without warning his slaps your pussy, the stinging sensation making your body jolt. Then he does it again, and again. It felt so good, but hurt so bad. It was almost just enough to make you cum. You’re whimpering, legs quivering as you stare up at his large figure. His hand comes in contact with your sensitive cunt again, your lips now puffy. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ll get off to anything just to cum.”

“I’m a good girl, I swear!” You pout, gasping when his fingers ghost over your clit before he removes them.

“I don’t think you are, sweetheart,” he sighs. “Now sit here and have fun trying to get yourself off. You don’t deserve my cock,” he says, all while he did it on purpose just to see those tears in your eyes and to hear your pleas to cum, squirming and becoming a needy whore. It was all apart of his plan.

repost from my original account

#—☆classyrbf #anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji x reader smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk x reader smut

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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago

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not that kind of movie | S.R.

movie night takes an interesting turn - for the better, definitely

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: the movie in question is metropolis, fingering, soft dom!spencer, i really don't know that there's anything else, kissing, they probably fucked after this, very slightly proofread, if this is incoherent let's just pretend it is. word count: 1.45k a/n: just a fun little fic i typed out tonight. also chip taylor gif spotted. i'm so tired i have nothing else to say for myself.

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, you were struggling to keep your eyes open during the movie.

As a result of a very intense rock, paper, scissors game, Spencer had been the one to choose the movie that you watched tonight. The movie he had chosen just so happened to be in a foreign language – German – that your boyfriend was attempting to learn. Your lack of German comprehension combined with the black-and-white film put you in a rough spot, you were in serious danger of falling asleep on the couch.

Spencer wouldn’t hold it against you if you did happen to drift off, but it felt rude. He never fell asleep during any of your film selections, and just because you didn’t understand the content didn’t mean you couldn’t respect the cinematography of the old-timey dystopian. “Are you falling asleep?” He whispered, adjusting the blanket that had been tossed over the two of you so that you were fully covered.

Shaking your head stubbornly, “No, ‘m watching the movie,” you insisted, prying your eyes open to focus on the screen in front of you and trying to figure out who was Freder and who was Joh.

“Good, keep watching,” Spencer said softly before pulling at your legs, leaving them draped across his lap as his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked over at you and in the dark of the living room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the flush of your cheeks. “Watch the movie,” he murmured, moving to trail his fingers up your thigh.

Your breathing hitched as his hand stopped, and as he started to massage the inner part of your thigh, you let your head fall to the side. “You’re distracting me,” you protested, smiling despite yourself while his fingers moved closer and closer to your core.

He hummed in response, “I thought this could help you stay awake,” he offered knowingly.

“Can’t hurt to try,” you concurred happily, extremely content with the turn of events that your movie night had taken – even if Metropolis wasn’t that kind of movie. You sighed as Spencer’s fingers deftly nudged your shorts to the side, using his hand to rub you over the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

In your periphery, you watched Spencer turn his attention back to the movie, his lips moving as his brain translated the words as they came from the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at the television, your brain was fuzzier than ever, but at least now you were enjoying yourself, “Spence,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

To your chagrin, his movements slowed, “Shh, watch the movie,” he told you, “You have to pay attention, or I’ll stop.”

You groaned before turning your head, watching the fuzzy black and white screen as robots started to take over and you realized you had no idea what the plot of this film was, “Please don’t stop,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers pushed your panties off to the side. You considered offering to take your shorts and underwear off, but you were too afraid of him stopping to even bring it up.

The volume of the movie was barely loud enough to cover up the soft, breathy noises that came from you as Spencer trailed his index finger up your slit before settling his hand on you, the elastic of your panties keeping his hand close as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You bit your lip to keep quiet as he started to move his thumb in slow, tantalizing circles, a small chuckle coming from him as your hips bucked up involuntarily, “Poor baby,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, trying to keep from closing your eyes and just focusing on the pleasure you were receiving. “More,” you beckoned, taking a chance and flickering your eyes over to where he was sitting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was simply enraptured with the film instead of having some sort of anti-staring contest while playing with you on the couch.

Not making any move to change what he was doing, Spencer seemingly ignored you, “You’ll get there, angel. I’ll let you come in a bit.”

With the promise of an orgasm in your near future, you decided you could toughen out the remainder of the film. This would be true if he would do anything but drag his thumb in annoyingly slow circles around your clit.

Resigning yourself to another thirty minutes of torture, you focused back on the screen, where you had definitely missed an important plot point. You had no idea when they ended up underground, “Ah!” You said, clamping your hand over your mouth as Spencer had decided to slip his index finger inside of your cunt, “Fuck, Spence,” you said, voice muffled by your own palm.

“Uncover your mouth,” Spencer told you, too far away to move your hand on his own, “I like to listen to you.”

His words sent your stomach into a flurry of somersaults, only spurred on by the calculated movements of his finger as it slipped deeper into you, knuckle by knuckle, until your warm walls wholly enclosed his finger. “Jesus,” you breathed, moaning as his hand moved, slipping his digit in and out of you with ease.

A strained breath from your boyfriend told you that he was having a hard time holding himself back, but at some point, he had dedicated himself to dragging this out. “You’re doing so well, just keep watching,” he appeased, “the movie’s almost over.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed him until he sunk his finger back into you, using his fingertip to swirl around your inner walls, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mm,” you whined, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He asked knowingly, “You like letting me touch you on the couch? All splayed out and pretty for me?”

Not that you’d ever admit this to him, but you sometimes thought he could make you come just from his words alone. Of course, that information would not be used to your benefit, “Yes,” you answered, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed, “Yeah, baby.”

Spencer hummed and your breath caught in your throat as a second finger slipped inside of you, joining the other one in its crusade to bring you to an orgasm, “That was a good answer.” His words did nothing to slow your racing heart, any thought of the movie was a distant memory as all it did was provide a slight glow around the living room.

Afraid of finishing before the conclusion, you reached down and grabbed Spencer’s wrist as his fingers continued their taunting rhythm, but it felt so good, and he was taking such good care of you, that you couldn’t stop his ministrations.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked making note of the way your hand gripped his wrist, continuing his movements when you assured him you were okay, “Oh,” he murmured, voice dripping in mock pity, “Do you wanna come?”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, writhing on the couch as you mumbled an affirmation and gasping when his thumb returned to its home on your clit, resuming the slow circles from before and slowly driving you toward insanity as your orgasm built in your lower belly, “Spence, ‘m gonna…” your voice trailed off as he continued to touch you, the volume of the film rising with your moans.

Not allowing his movements to falter, Spencer focused more of his energy on you, “You can come, baby. It’s alright,” he said, watching you fall apart on his fingers as he rambled on, “There you go, honey.” His fingers slowed to a stop as you caught your breath, just for it to hitch again as his fingers withdrew from your wet heat.

As the world came back into tune, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and looked at the now black screen. Humming, you shifted over to Spencer, settling yourself in his lap, one knee on each side of him, you tilted your head to the side and smiled at him.

“Did you like the movie?” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving back.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw line, “One of my favorites,” you murmured against the soft skin of his neck.

Spencer laughed softly at your answer, “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

Grinning in the dark, you moved your lips up to his ear, “The end.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #written by margot #mdni #margot after hours #softdom!spencer

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yandere-sins · 5 months ago

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Kicking my feet and twirling my hair at your yandere König and Ghost headcanons💕 could I request some headcanons on how they'd react at escape attempts/successful escapes please?

Of course! Thanks for requesting! ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ One word: panic. It's not a slowly developing feeling, either. When he can't find you in your room, his stomach twists as he waltzes into the bathroom instead. At this point, his pulse begins ringing in his ears, and his breaths come out as slow pushes of air. König realizes how wrong his home feels, how there's no sign of you there, and the panic that overcomes him is just about to explode like a grenade on the battlefield—it builds up and then peng! It's too quiet, too cold, and the thought of you having left is one of pure horror. If anyone would measure his tension, his body would break all means of detecting it, every muscle so taut they could snap at any given moment, and every one of his movements deliberate and deadly. König tries to think about what he's done wrong and why you'd do this to him, but he manages to push these thoughts aside for later. He needs to focus, needs to keep his wits up. Part of him hopes you didn't leave him because you wanted to. Another part hopes very much that you weren't forced to leave him just to spare you from the horrors that you could possibly encounter because of that. Then again, if someone was as bold as to kidnap you, König would at least have an outlet for all the rage, frustration, and madness he is feeling; the thought of breaking some bones suddenly so tempting.

♡ And yet, König is never more in control than in moments like this. Despite his panic and anxiety about losing you, he could never concentrate better than now that he has to get you back. And he has to; he needs to. Needs you. His life is meaningless without you in it, and he needs to cradle you in his arms and know you're okay just so he can fucking breathe again. He has his means of finding out where you are and is not shy about using them. You'll come to dread the day you got stalked by someone so big and tall that it should have been impossible. But once he's behind you, your escape is over, and with it, any other possibility that you'll ever be able to try again. If he has to put you in an underground bunker, tied up and unable to do anything without him, then so be it. But König can't lose you again. He might as well die if you ever manage to get away. Ultimately, it will be his tense, unyielding hands dragging you back, even as he coos sweet promises into your ear. That everything will be okay now, that he'll protect you. But he'll be much more possessive and needy after your attempt, and you only have yourself to blame for what he's going to do with you once he has you back in the safety of his arms.

Ghost

♡ Physically, you might already be far, far away from Ghost. Yet, you can still feel his disappointment and hear him sigh, even if it's all just subconsciously. There's something especially bitter about the fact he went out to get you some nice food you like, thinking about how much he'll enjoy watching you eat it on his way back and imaging the taste on your lips as he steals kisses from you, only to come back to this. Nothing. Emptiness and the remains of his heart getting shredded by explosive bangs of heartache. He thought things were improving between you two, but that escape was on him. He shouldn't have trusted you quite this much, though it really fucking hurts that you did it. He's been good to you, hasn't he? Loved you well, fucked you well, spent all his damn money to make you comfortable. You can run all you want, but you can't deny the few times you leaned in for a cuddle—even if it was subconsciously—or asked him for something, and he got it for you without thinking twice. You might think running is the right option, but are you even aware of what you're running away from? By all means, he was a perfect partner (aside from forcing you into this relationship, but it was for the greater good of you both being together). And yet, you'd betray him like this. Run away when things get rough. When they aren't up to your standards. Ghost must have spoiled you rotten, eh? Pity because he won't make the same mistakes twice.

♡ Ghost doesn't need anyone or anything to track you down. He might have a tracker on you, part of him always admiring your rebellious nature and knowing the day would come, but he knows you. He knows you too well. He studied your thoughts like no one else, perhaps knowing even better than you what you're thinking. And though he's gripping the steering wheel of the car he's using to catch up to you, to the point of either his fingers or the material they're wrapped around cracking, when he does find you, he's eerily calm. He knew the way you'd run, knew which bushes you'd hide behind, and now that he caught up, you really have no choice but to surrender. Ghost wouldn't let you win in a fight on his good days, much less days ruined by your idiocity. So you can choose to get in defeatedly or have him drag you into the car with no guarantee he won't hurt you. It's not like your tears leave him cold. The dead look on your face or how you jerk when he brushes your hair back, feeling like ice picks stabbed into his heart. He hates arguing with you. He hates being angry with you. It's on you this time, though. But at least, if you're cooperative, the only way he'll let you know how mad he is, is by holding your thigh in his hand on the drive, gripping it painfully rigid as he drives you two back, thinking about whether or not to break your leg as a lesson. No promises on if he will act on these thoughts, though—you really messed up this time and deserve the lesson, don't you? Better start appeasing him before you get home, and he gets to have you all to himself again, just like he always wanted.

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julietsf1 · 1 month ago

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The Secret Admirer - Franco Colapinto x Driver!Reader

summary: Y/N thought the biggest challenge this season would be her dynamic with her cold teammate, but mysterious notes and gifts start to complicate things. Who’s behind it, and what happens when she finds out?

content: driver!reader; slight lestappen in-between the lines if you're down for it

AN - HELLO?? when did I reach 100 followers?? that's crazy fr thank you guys so much <3 getting myself a some lilies tomorrow to celebrate heehee :)

inspired after reading an amazing secret admirer SMAU by @hugleclerc!!

---------------------------------------------------

The Williams garage was alive with the buzz of mechanics and engineers, adjusting last-minute setups on the cars before qualifying. I leaned against the wall, watching the team work their magic. The air was tense, but everyone seemed focused, ready for the battle that awaited on track.

Everyone except Franco Colapinto.

I glanced across the garage, where Franco stood laughing with one of the engineers. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled as he made some clever comment, drawing a laugh from the guy. Of course, everyone adored Franco—charming, effortlessly cool, always with a smile that could melt ice.

Just not when it came to me.

I took a deep breath, feeling the usual pang of frustration bubble up. It wasn’t that I needed to be best friends with my teammate, but we were supposed to be a team. Teammates were supposed to at least talk to each other, right? But no—Franco acted like I was a ghost. A ghost in a fireproof suit.

Whatever, I told myself. It wasn’t like I cared... much.

But maybe today would be different. Maybe today, I’d crack the Colapinto code.

“Hey, Franco,” I called out as I approached him, keeping my voice light, almost hopeful. “Ready for qualifying?”

He turned toward me, his eyes flickering me up and down for the briefest moment. “Hey,” he said, offering me the most forced smile I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at how bad this was going already. “I, uh... need to check the data,” he quickly added, already turning away before I could even blink.

Right. Data. The lamest excuse. I watched as he made a beeline for the monitors, leaving me standing there like an idiot talking to thin air. Again.

I sighed, folding my arms. “Sure, no problem.” It felt ridiculous—like I was chasing after something that clearly didn’t matter to him.

I didn’t want to admit how much it actually bugged me. Not having a good bond with Franco wasn’t just a professional issue—it felt personal. I got on with everyone else in the paddock. Oscar? Hilarious. Charles? Always up for a nice talk. Lando? Honestly too crazy for his own good. But Franco? He was a mystery wrapped in a cold, distant puzzle.

I let out another sigh, shaking my head. Turning to head back to my car again.

The truth was, it bothered me more than I liked to admit. I wanted to have that easy camaraderie I had with the others, but Franco wasn’t interested. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe it was just the rivalry for the number 1 seat at Williams, and I was overthinking things.

But still, every time I saw him chat with the team, his eyes lighting up as he joked around, it stung. Why couldn’t he be like that with me?

The countdown to qualifying flashed on the screens around the garage, snapping me back to reality. Focus. I had a job to do. I wasn’t going to let Franco’s attitude get in the way of that. I could beat him on the track. That’s what mattered.

Back in my driver’s room, the hum of the paddock faded as I shut the door behind me. The familiar quiet enveloped me, offering a brief moment of peace. I tugged at the zipper of my race suit, peeling it halfway down to let out the heat. Qualifying had gone well enough, p10, but my mind was elsewhere, drifting away from lap times and tire choices.

I moved around the small space, packing my gloves and helmet, going through the motions of tidying up. There was something soothing about the routine—folding, zipping, stashing gear away in its proper place. It gave my hands something to do while my thoughts wandered.

As I reached for my bag, my fingers brushed against something unexpected—a small, folded piece of paper peeking out from the side pocket. I paused, pulling it free and unfolding it slowly. The handwriting was neat, familiar. My heart gave a small flutter, as it always did when I found one of these.

"You looked amazing again today. Seeing you shine is the highlight of my raceweekends."

A smile tugged at my lips, soft but undeniable. These notes had been showing up for weeks now, tucked into my things when I least expected it. Always sweet, always supportive, and just romantic enough to make me wonder who the mysterious admirer could be.

I leaned back against the bench, holding the note in my hand. Whoever was behind this... they were good. Thoughtful, even. They knew how to say just enough to lift my spirits without crossing that line into cringe territory.

But who could it be? I’d racked my brain plenty of times. Maybe one of the engineers? They were always around, and some of them had a quiet, observant vibe. Or could it be the chef who made those amazing post-race meals? He was always so friendly, always knew exactly how to make my day a little better.

I folded the note carefully and slid it into my pocket, shaking my head with a soft laugh. Whoever it was, they were doing a great job of keeping it a secret. It was frustrating, sure, but at the same time... there was something kind of magical about the mystery. And it felt good, knowing someone was watching, rooting for me in their own quiet way.

With a small smile, I headed toward the door, stepping into the outside world again, basically hitting me in the face with its upbeat energy. Whatever challenges lay ahead, at least I had one thing to look forward to—someone out there cared. And that was more than enough to brighten my day.

At the hotel I went straight to the restaurant which was filled with the typical post-qualifying buzz—drivers catching up, teams unwinding with food and drinks, and engineers talking shop over their meals. I slipped into the booth beside Oscar, who was already halfway through his plate, while Charles raised his glass in greeting.

“Tough session?” Oscar asked, his mouth half full, which would sure as hell earn him a scolding from Nicole Piastri if she saw him like this.

I shrugged, picking up the menu. “Could’ve been worse. Franco had his usual charm on, though.” I tried to keep it light, but there was no hiding the disappointment creeping into my voice.

Charles raised an eyebrow, setting his glass down with a smirk. “And by charm, you mean...”

“He barely acknowledged me.” I sighed, flipping the menu open. “I tried to wish him luck, you know, like a teammate would? He gave me the most forced smile, muttered something about ‘checking the data,’ and bolted.”

Oscar leaned back in his seat, giving me a knowing look. “Classic Franco move. Avoidance with a dash of politeness.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” I muttered, more amused than frustrated at this point.

Charles chuckled. “Well, it’s not like he hates you. Maybe he’s just... I don’t know, bad at the whole teammate thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, not really convinced. “It’s just... disappointing. Everyone else on the grid is easy to get along with, but with Franco, it’s like I don’t exist. I get that we’re both competitive for that number one seat, but it doesn’t mean we have to be strangers.”

Oscar gave me a small, sympathetic smile, then his face lit up with a mischievous glint. “At least you’ve got someone making up for it with those cute little love notes.”

My cheeks flushed a bit as I fumbled with the menu. I wasn’t expecting that to come up so quickly. “I wouldn’t call them love notes.”

Charles leaned in, clearly intrigued. “Oh, do tell.”

I sighed, setting the menu down. “It’s nothing major. Just... someone’s been leaving notes for me. Encouraging ones. They’re always really sweet and thoughtful.”

Charles and Oscar exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing.

“Our girl’s got a secret admirer!” Oscar stated, grinning ear to ear.

Charles joined in. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Come on, Y/N, we’re supposed to be your investigative team here.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite their teasing. “It’s not like that. I mean, I don’t even know who it is. The notes just show up in my stuff—my locker, my bag, even my hotel room once.”

Charles was practically bouncing in his seat. “This is amazing. You’ve got a secret admirer in the paddock, and you’re keeping it from us? That’s just cruel.”

Oscar tilted his head, considering. “Maybe it’s one of the journalists? They’re always hanging around the paddock.”

I frowned, thinking it over. “A journalist? I don’t know... It seems kind of personal. Like, whoever’s leaving them knows what’s going on in my head.”

Charles grinned, clearly loving the mystery. “Maybe it’s that tire guy. You know, the one who’s always lurking around with that awkward smile.”

I laughed. “Sure, because nothing says romance like delivering tires.”

“Hey, you never know,” Charles teased. “The guy might have a thing for drivers who know how to handle a good set of Pirellis.”

Oscar snorted. “Well, whoever it is, they’re clearly invested in you. And the fact that they’re staying anonymous? Bold move.”

I shook my head, grinning despite myself. “It’s not like that. I mean, I don’t think it is. The notes are more... supportive than romantic.”

Charles smirked. “Supportive, romantic... it’s the same thing when you’re the one receiving them.”

I leaned back, letting out a breath. “Maybe. It’s just weird not knowing. Whoever it is must be around a lot to be able to slip the notes into my stuff without me noticing.”

Oscar shrugged. “Could be anyone. Engineer, journalist, tire guy... heck, it could be someone from another team for all we know.”

Charles gave me a nudge. “Come on, let’s not overthink this. Whoever it is, they’re obviously paying attention to you in ways we’re not. Just... enjoy it. You deserve it.”

Back in my hotel room, I tossed my bag onto the bed and collapsed into the armchair. Even after the dinner with Oscar and Charles, the post-quali hectivity still lingered in my head, and I was ready to unwind. As I sat up, something caught my eye on the desk—there, sitting perfectly in the middle, was a bouquet of lilies, their soft pink petals delicate and crisp against the dark wood. Nestled among the flowers was a small teddy bear, its plush almost glowing in the dim room light.

I blinked, taking a step closer. Another note.

With a grin creeping onto my face, I picked up the folded paper, carefully sliding it out from between the stems. My heart fluttered a little as I unfolded it, the familiar neat handwriting greeting me once again.

"Flowers for the prettiest girl in the pitlane, you are doing amazing this weekend."

The warmth that spread through me was undeniable. Whoever this was, they had a knack for making me feel special without going overboard. I set the note down on the desk, reaching for the teddy bear. It was soft, comforting in a way that made me smile.

Without thinking, I scooped up the flowers and the teddy and practically ran out of the room, determined to show Oscar and Charles the latest installment of this ongoing mystery. I knew they’d have a field day with it.

When I made it down to the lobby, I spotted them easily—Oscar and Charles were draped over the couches, their laughter carrying across the room.

“Oh no,” Oscar said as soon as he saw me, eyes locking onto the bouquet. “Not more flowers.”

Charles leaned forward, grinning. “What is it this time? Roses? A life-sized teddy bear?”

I sat down next to them, holding up the lilies and teddy with a mock dramatic flourish. “Lilies and a teddy bear,” I announced. “And another note. This person is definitely stepping up their game.”

Before I could say more, Max appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the chair next to Charles. He raised an eyebrow at the sight. “Wait, wait, wait—what did I miss?”

Oscar leaned over, grinning like crazy. “Oh, just Y/N’s latest delivery from her secret admirer.”

Max’s eyes widened in mock shock. “Secret admirer? How come I’m only finding out about this now? Charles, you should’ve told me!”

Charles waved him off. “You’ve been too busy. Someone’s been leaving notes and gifts for Y/N. This is the latest one—lilies and a teddy bear. The whole deal.”

Without missing a beat, Max straightened up dramatically and grabbed Charles’s hand, mimicking a lovestruck expression, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh, darling Charles, I’ve waited so long to tell you how much I adore you. Letme sweep you off your feet with lilies and teddy bears,” he said in a ridiculous voice, earning a round of laughter from the guys.

Charles, unable to keep a straight face, clutched at his chest. “Oh, Max, I had no idea! How could I have been so blind?” He pretended to swoon, leaning into Max as Oscar snorted with laughter.

The whole thing was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, holding onto the teddy bear as Charles dramatically fell into Max’s arms. Oscar nearly spilled his drink, laughing so hard he was shaking.

“You guys are so annoying,” I said, shaking my head.

Oscar wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “And yet, you still hang out with us.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, sitting down beside Oscar. “You can all make fun of me later. But seriously, I have no idea who’s behind this.”

Max leaned over, winking at me. “Whoever it is, I’d say they’re pretty serious about this. You should probably start writing your thank-you speech for when they finally reveal themselves.”

Oscar tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s someone who sees you all the time but doesn’t want to be too obvious about it. A paddock regular.”

Charles nodded. “Like that tire guy. Maybe he’s finally making his move.”

Lando, who joined the group mid max’s performance and had been quietly observing so far, crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea who it is.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh, really?”

Lando shrugged casually, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I mean, if you pay attention, it’s not that hard to figure out. It’s always someone who notices the little things, like when you have a really good session or when you’re extra happy about something.”

Oscar tilted his head. “Wait... are you saying you know who it is?”

Lando’s smirk widened just a fraction. “I guess I’m fairly certain, yeah. But where’s the fun in telling you now? I’ll let you all figure it out.”

Max leaned back, giving Lando a look. “Come on, mate. You can’t just drop that and leave us hanging.”

Lando held up his hands, still grinning. “I’m just saying—sometimes the answer’s right in front of you. You’ve just gotta look a little closer.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, the wheels in my head turning, but before I could press him any further, George strolled up, adjusting his jacket with his usual air of elegance. He took one look at the flowers and teddy bear, and his face lit up with intrigue.

“Good evening, Gentlemen, Gentlewoman,” George said, eyes carefully inspecting the gifts on the table, “what’s this whole ordeal about?”

Oscar leaned forward, clearly enjoying himself. “Y/N’s got a secret admirer. Notes, flowers, gifts... the whole thing.”

George straightened up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “A secret admirer, you say? Well, this sounds like a job for me.”

Max snickered. “You’re going to solve this mystery, Sherlock?”

George gave him a serious nod. “Absolutely. It’s a matter of pride now. Y/N, you leave this in my capable hands.”

I laughed. “What’s your plan, George?”

He adjusted his collar with a flourish. “I’ll start by investigating everyone in the paddock. No stone shall be left unturned, no individual overlooked.”

Charles chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see you interrogating the tire guy.”

George gave him a lofty wave. “The tire guy? Please, I’ll be far more thorough than that. I’ll speak to marshalls, cleaning staff, team principals—everyone. By the end of this, I’ll have your answer.”

Oscar grinned. “I’m sure they’ll all appreciate your thoroughness.”

“Fear not,” George continued, completely serious, “I will get to the bottom of this. You can count on me.”

We all burst out laughing as George made his dramatic exit, heading off toward the elevators with an air of determination.

Max shook his head, still chuckling. “He’s going to be a nightmare in the paddock tomorrow.”

Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms. “No kidding. He’ll have everyone hiding from him by lunchtime.”

Lando, still lounging comfortably, gave me a quick glance. “Well, while Sherlock’s off gathering clues, we can all sit back and enjoy the show.”

I smiled, hugging the teddy bear close. “Yeah, this whole thing is getting out of hand.”

But even as I said it, I glanced down at the note again, my fingers brushing over the neat handwriting. There was something about this whole thing—something I felt I was overlooking.

Race day had finally arrived, and the paddock was alive with excitement. The drivers’ parade was one of those moments where the race hadn’t quite hit yet, and the energy was more about the fans than the looming competition. I stood with the other drivers, the sun bright overhead, as we waited to climb into the two open-top trucks that would take us around the circuit.

The atmosphere was lively, the cheers of the crowd echoing through the streets. For a brief moment, it was just about the spectacle—no stress, no pressure. Just waves and smiles.

“Y/N!” George’s voice cut through the noise, and I turned to see him weaving through the group with a grin. “I’ve got updates.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Updates on what?”

George leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “The investigation. I’ve been doing some digging.”

I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. “George, I thought we agreed to keep this low-key.”

He nodded, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Oh, of course. Very discreet. But just so you know, I’ve already ruled out a few people. I had a chat with the tire guys—they’re off the list.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Good to know.”

Oscar, standing a few feet away, overheard and sauntered over, clearly amused. “George is still on about that, huh?”

George straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m telling you, we’re making progress. Just need to connect a few more dots.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Sherlock. But keep it subtle, okay?”

Oscar chuckled, clapping George on the shoulder as we climbed into one of the trucks for the parade. “Just don’t go questioning the marshals next, alright?”

We settled into the large truck, with half the drivers in ours and the rest in another up ahead. George stood beside me, his detective mindset clearly still working overtime. “I’ll crack this eventually,” he said, his tone only half-joking.

As the truck rolled forward, George leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve narrowed it down to three main suspects.”

I raised an eyebrow, already bracing for the ridiculousness. “Okay, hit me. Who’s on your list?”

George, completely serious, ticked off the names on his fingers. “First, Gunther Steiner.”

Oscar, standing across from us, choked on his water. “Gunther? Seriously?”

George nodded. “Could be him, right? The man’s full of surprises.”

I bit back a laugh, playing along. “Sure, let’s put Gunther in the mix. Who else?”

George held up a second finger. “Then, there’s one of the guys from Dutch TV. He’s always hanging around too, and I saw him chatting with the engineers yesterday. Could be a cover.”

Oscar shook his head, thoroughly amused. “A Dutch broadcaster? Aren’t most of those guys well over 50?”

“And lastly,” George said, leaning in even closer, “Lewis.”

I burst out laughing. “Lewis? Really?”

George shrugged. “He’s known to be romantic. He certainly stole my heart in the last few years of us working together.”

“He’s like a dad to me, George!” I said, rolling my eyes.

George grinned, completely unfazed by the disbelief. “You never know. He surely is a handsome guy.”

As the parade began to roll forward, I glanced over at Lewis, who was standing on the other side of the truck, waving atfans as we passed by. He caught my eye and made his way over, always up for a chat.

“Ready for race day, Y/N?” Lewis asked, his smile easy and familiar.

I smiled, waving to the crowd. “Absolutely! I’ve got a good feeling about the car this weekend.”

Lewis nodded, his gaze shifting briefly to Franco, who was further up in the other truck, chatting with Carlos and Checo. “How’s it going with your teammate?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of understanding.

I sighed. “It’s just weird, you know? I’ve tried to build some kind of rapport with him, but he barely acknowledges me. Feels like I’m talking to a wall sometimes.”

Lewis nodded knowingly. “I’ve been there. Back when Nico and I were teammates, it was the same. Sometimes, no matter what you do, the team dynamic just doesn’t click.”

I glanced over at Franco, who was sitting up ahead in the other truck, chatting easily with some of the engineers. “Yeah, that’s exactly how it feels. I don’t want to be at odds with him, but it’s hard when he’s so distant.”

Lewis offered a sympathetic smile. “Best advice I can give? Focus on your own performance. If it’s meant to change, it will, could still be a lot of love there in the future. Who knows.”

I nodded, grateful for his words. “Thanks, Lewis. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As the trucks rolled through the circuit, the noise of the crowd surrounded us, creating a whirlwind of energy. I waved and smiled, but my mind kept drifting back to George’s “investigation.”

Just then, George leaned over again, his voice still hushed. “I have a few more leads, you know. I think the key is in the smaller details.”

Before I could respond, Lando, standing a few meters behind us, called out with a cheeky grin. “Maybe Sherlock should focus on the people who see the little things, those who spend the most time near her during raceweekends.”

I shot him a look, but Lando just winked, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Just a thought,” he added.

Oscar laughed, nudging George. “Sounds like Lando’s onto something. Maybe you should listen to him.”

George, undeterred, gave a firm nod. “I am conducting an official investigation here, I will not be phased by the random gibberish coming out of Mr. Norris’s mouth.”

We all laughed, the banter flowing easily as the parade continued. The crowd’s cheers grew louder, and for a moment, I let myself get swept up in the excitement, pushing thoughts of the admirer and Franco to the back of my mind.

The parade had been fun, but as the race drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. There was a something in the air, an underlying tension that grew with every passing minute. The team was busy making final preparations, and the garage was a blur of activity—mechanics checking the cars, engineers pouring over data, and the hum of engines revving in the background.

I made my way to the starting position, taking a moment to clear my head. The race was the focus now, and I had to put everything else—George’s ridiculous suspects, Lando’s weird hints, and even the mystery admirer—aside. It was time to focus.

Franco, who qualified p9 and therefore was parked next to me, stood by the car, laughing with a couple of the engineers, his usual charming self. His eyes sparkled, and his energy seemed high. Can’t believe he can look this good after such an intense weekend. As always, he was completely at ease with the team—just not with me. I watched him for a moment, the distance between us feeling wider than ever. It wasn’t that I was angry with him, just...��a bit sad.

I took a deep breath and walked over, determined to at least wish him good luck before the race. Maybe today would be different.

“Hey, Franco,” I said, my voice light but hopeful. “Good luck out there.”

He glanced over at me, looking clearly caught of guard. “Yes, thanks,” he replied, his tone polite but clipped. “You too.”

Before I could say anything else, he turned back to the engineers, diving right into a discussion about strategy. It was like a door closing in my face—again.

I stood there for a moment, watching him interact so easily with everyone else. He had the charm, the confidence, those dreamy eyes, the effortless ability to make people like him. So why couldn’t we connect? I wasn’t asking for much, just a little more than this distant, cold professionalism. But every time I tried, he shut me down.

I sighed, turning away. There was no point in pushing it anymore. Franco wasn’t interested, and I couldn’t waste energy on something that clearly wasn’t going to change.

As I stepped into my car, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline starting to build. I had a decent starting position, and the car felt good during practice. If I could nail the start and keep things clean, there was a good chance I’d score some solid points today.

My race engineer gave me a rundown of the strategy, and I nodded along, focusing on the task at hand. The tension was there, but it was the good kind—the kind that made you want to get out there and fight.

I cast one last glance over at Franco. He was in his element, all smiles and confidence as he chatted with the crew. For a second, I almost envied how easily things seemed to come to him.

I shook off the thoughts of Franco, my mind snapping into race mode. Whatever was going on between us—or rather, wasn’t going on—could wait. I had points to score.

The race had been a whirlwind. I was still buzzing with adrenaline as I pulled into the pit lane. It wasn’t a podium, but finishing P7 was a solid result, especially considering how tight the midfield battle had been. The car had felt good, and I’d managed to keep my head down and fight through the chaos of the race. As I unclipped my harness and climbed out of the car, a wave of relief washed over me. Another race down, and points on the board for Williams.

The garage was already alive with celebration—engineers high-fiving each other, the mechanics cheering for what had been a strong race for the team. Franco had finished P6, just ahead of me, which was a good result for both of us. I caught a glimpse of him surrounded by team members, all smiles as usual, and I felt a twinge of something I couldn’t quite place. Not jealousy, but... something else.

As the energy in the garage began to die down, I noticed people slowly filtering out, heading off to unwind or prep for the evening celebration. I lingered, not in any rush, soaking in the post-race energy. Eventually, it was just a few of us left, the hum of the paddock fading into a quiet calm.

With a deep breath, I gathered my things, deciding it was time to head back to my driver’s room to decompress. My body ached from the intensity of the race, and the adrenaline was finally starting to wear off. A hot shower and a moment of peace were exactly what I needed before joining the team later at the cocktail bar.

When I walked into my room, I spotted something that made me stop in my tracks.

On the bench next to my helmet sat another note—this time accompanied by a little box from Dior. Curious, I opened the lid, only to find the most stunning, sleek, golden bracelet inside. My heart skipped a beat as I moved closer, picking up the delicate piece of jewelry. The bracelet was simple but elegant, with a small star charm that caught the light as I held it in my hand. This wasn’t just another gesture. This felt different—more intimate.

With shaky hands, I unfolded the note, the familiar handwriting almost calming in its neatness.

"You were a star out there. Wish I could see you smile like this every day."

I sat down, holding the bracelet in one hand and the note in the other, a mixture of emotions washing over me. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture, the subtle encouragement—it all felt so personal. Whoever this person was, they saw me in ways that most people didn’t. The bracelet wasn’t just a gift; it was a reminder that someone out there was paying attention to more than just my results.

I smiled softly to myself, but after a moment, I carefully placed the bracelet back into its little Dior box. It felt too precious, too delicate to wear just yet.

I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to step out from the shadows with a confession. But of course, I was alone. The puzzle pieces were there, but the final picture still felt elusive. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was getting closer to figuring it out.

With the note tucked safely in my pocket and the box in hand, I left the room, ready to head to the team celebration.

As I left the room and stepped into the paddock, I nearly bumped into Kym Illman, who was walking by with his camera slung over his shoulder.

“Y/N! Just the person I was hoping to catch,” Kym said, grinning as he stopped in front of me. “Mind if I grab a quick post-race shot? Gotta capture that afterglow.”

I blinked, still feeling a bit dazed from everything that had happened, but I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Go for it.”

Kym raised his camera, the familiar sound of the shutter snapping away as I stood there, trying to focus on anything other than the Dior box in my hand. The camera clicks were rhythmic, but I could feel the weight of the small box growing heavier by the second. Just as he lowered the camera, Kym’s eyes flicked down to the box.

“You got a little gift,” he commented casually, gesturing toward it with a nod. His easygoing smile remained in place, like he didn’t realize he was about to drop a bomb. “From Franco, right?”

I froze, the words hitting me like a sudden gust of wind. My pulse quickened, and I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what he’d just said. “Franco...?”

Kym, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me, shrugged casually. “Yeah, I saw him going into your room after the race, carrying that little box. I assumed it was something from him for you. It’s good to see things are smoothing outbetween you two.”

He smiled again, a little too cheerfully, completely oblivious to the turmoil his words had caused. I forced a shaky smile in return, the reality of his comment sinking in slowly, like ice water trickling down my spine.

Franco had dropped off the bracelet. Franco had been in my room. Franco had been leaving me the notes and the gifts—this entire time?

My thoughts spiraled, trying to match the Franco I knew—the one who could barely hold a conversation with me, who always kept his distance—with the person behind these thoughtful, personal gestures. How could the same person be so cold and yet so considerate? None of it made sense. But then again, he was always around, like Lando hinted at.

“I, uh... will see you next week,” I finally managed to say, my voice coming out shakier than I’d intended.

Kym, still completely unaware of the bombshell he’d just dropped, gave an easygoing smile. “Great race today. You’re looking strong out there. I’ll see you around.”

With that, he waved and walked off, leaving me standing there, rooted to the spot. The guy who had barely acknowledged me for months, who had given me the cold shoulder in every single interaction, was the same person who had been leaving me these incredibly thoughtful, sweet notes?

I looked down at the Dior box in my hand, the logo glinting in the fading light of the evening. The weight of the bracelet inside felt heavier now, the realization settling in like a lead weight in my chest. It was Franco. What the hell?

But if it was him, why had he been so distant? Why couldn’t he just say something instead of hiding behind anonymous notes and secret gifts?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was no point in overthinking it now. I needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to me.

Tonight, I was going to find Franco, and I was going to get to the bottom of this.

The cocktail bar slowly filled with the sounds of celebration. Laughter and the sound of clinking glasses travelled through the room as the Williams team reveled in the success of the race. The low lighting cast a warm glow over the bar, making it feel intimate, even amidst the lively chatter. I stepped inside, the gold bracelet glimmering softly on my wrist. The weight of it felt significant, not because of its size, but because of what it represented. Tonight, I needed answers, and I had a plan.

Franco stood near the bar, surrounded by a few engineers, his easy smile making him the center of attention, as always. He laughed at something one of the guys said, and for a moment, I watched him, still trying to reconcile the Franco I thought I knew with the one who had left me those thoughtful notes that made my stomach flutter. My fingers brushed the bracelet, and I felt a twinge of nervous energy rush through me.

I took a deep breath and made my way across the room toward him, my heart pounding as I rehearsed what I might say. The crowd seemed to blur as I neared, and suddenly it was just the two of us in this noisy, lively place.

“Franco,” I called out, keeping my voice light, though every nerve in my body was tingling.

He turned toward me, his green eyes immediately darting to my wrist. The moment they landed on the bracelet, a flicker of recognition passed through his expression—a quick joyful spark that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. But it was enough. That slight hesitation, the twinkle in his eye—it was all I needed to know.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little too calm, a little too composed. “Congrats on the race today. P7 is a solid finish.”

I forced a smile, stepping closer. “Thanks. P6 isn’t bad either. You were brilliant out there.”

He nodded, but I noticed his gaze flicker back to the bracelet again, like he couldn’t help himself. That spark was back in his eyes, and this time, it lingered.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, his voice a little quieter now.

His response was automatic, his words almost an afterthought. His attention wasn’t on the conversation—it was on my wrist, the bracelet. He couldn’t hide it.

I smiled knowingly. “Do you like my new bracelet?”

Franco blinked, his composure slipping for a second. “It’s, uh... nice. Gold, right?” His voice wavered ever so slightly, like he was trying too hard to sound indifferent.

I tilted my head, taking a step closer. “Yes, so pretty isn’t it? Someone gave it to me after the race.”

He nervously tried his best to look away and avoid my gaze, suppressing what seemed to be a proud smile. “Oh, that’s... thoughtful.”

I raised an eyebrow, watching him squirm. “It was, wasn’t it?”

The space between us felt charged, the air thick with tension. I waited, giving him a chance to come clean, but he stayed silent, his eyes glued to the bracelet.

He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever words he’d planned to use were lost. I couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing his arm, I gently pulled him away from the group, toward the quieter, dimly lit corner in the bar, just out of sight. Franco didn’t resist, though I could feel the stiffness in his movements.

Once we were tucked away from prying eyes, I let go of his arm and turned to face him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the wall. “Franco, it was you, wasn’t it? The notes, the flowers, the bracelet—it’s all been you.”

Franco shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence completely gone. He avoided my gaze, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I hadn’t noticed before. “What? No—I don’t—” He faltered, the words tumbling out awkwardly. “I mean, I—”

I stepped closer, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow. “Franco.”

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. He glanced around, as if hoping for some sort of escape, but when none came, he finally met my eyes. “I didn’t know how else to... say anything,” he murmured. “It’s stupid, I know. We’re teammates, and I should’ve just—”

“What did you want to say?” I asked, my voice soft but firm.

“You’re all I can think about,” he blurted out, the words unfiltered. “Every single day.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his confession. Franco’s face softened as he continued, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve been trying to act like I don’t care, like I’m just focused on the race and nothing else, but... it’s you. It’s always been you.”

My breath caught as his words sank in, but he didn’t stop there. He took a step closer, his voice lowering.

“You have no idea what you do to me, cariño,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “I love the way every time we’re eating something and you have the first bite and it is really good, actually good—like, not just passable, you crunch your nose up a little bit. It is so cute.”

He smiled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice clear as he kept going. “And after a good session, when you pull your helmet off, and your hair’s all over the place, but you don’t care because you’re too busy hopping from foot to foot, like you can’t hold in how excited you are. You think no one notices, but I do. It’s adorable, and it drives me crazy.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as he took another step closer, his voice barely more than a whisper now.

He stepped closer, his green eyes locking onto mine, more earnest than I’d ever seen them. “Even when you’re just standing there, doing nothing, you have this way of making me completely forget about everything else. Just watching you makes me lose my mind.”

I couldn’t help but beam at that, the sweetness of his words breaking through the tension. Franco glanced down, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed.

“I thought if I stayed away, maybe it would stop, but it didn’t. So... I left the notes. The flowers. The bracelet. Because I didn’t know how else to say it.”

“You’ve cared all along,” I whispered, more a statement than a question. My heart was racing like there was a V12 engine hidden inside of it.

Franco nodded, his green eyes locking onto mine with such intensity it made my breath hitch. “I have. But we’re supposed to be competing for that number one seat, and I didn’t want to make it more difficult... with how I feel about you.”

His confession hung in the air between us, raw and real. The weirdness, the tension—it had all been leading to this moment.

I stepped even closer, until our bodies were almost touching, my voice soft. “Franco, you didn’t have to hide it. You could’ve just told me.”

For a moment, neither of us moved, the space between us charged with everything we hadn’t said. But now, with nothing left unsaid, I closed the gap, standing on my toes as I pressed my lips to his.

Franco froze for a second, caught off guard, but then he responded, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. It was slow at first, tentative, like we were both afraid to break the moment. But as the seconds passed, the kiss grew more urgent, more real, like all the months of tension were finally being released.

His hands tightened on my waist as he kissed me back, the heat between us growing with each passing second. My heart raced as I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, hungry, like we were making up for lost time..

Franco’s hand slid up my side, as he moved to cradle my face. His thumb grazed my cheek, and I felt my breath hitch, a shiver running down my spine as the kiss intensified. His lips were warm, firm, moving against mine with an urgency that sent a thrill through my entire body. I kissed him back with just as much passion, feeling flutters in my stomach.

My back hit the wall, and the feel of him pressed against me made my pulse race even faster. There was nothing tentative about the way he kissed me now—his lips demanding, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. He broke the kiss for just a second, only to dive back in, like he couldn’t get enough.

But this time, instead of his lips finding mine again, they traveled down, brushing along my jaw and moving to my neck. The feel of his breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, my heart pounding in anticipation. His lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that made me gasp quietly.

Franco’s hands found my waist again, softly fidgeting with the hem of my top and touching the bare skin below, as he trailed his soft lips against the curve of my neck. The combination of his touch and his breath was intoxicating, and I tilted my head back, giving him more access, my body responding instinctively to the way he explored my skin. His lips lingered there, slow and teasing, each kiss sending little jolts of electricity through me.

I could feel his breath hitch as he pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against my neck as he murmured, “You’re making it impossible to think straight.”

Before I could even respond, he found my lips again, the kiss deeper this time, more heated than before. His hands moved up, combing through my hair, pulling me closer as his lips moved with a hunger that made my knees weak. I kissed him back just as fiercely, losing myself in the feel of him.

It was overwhelming—in the best possible way. Every nerve in my body was on fire, responding to every little movement, every brush of his lips. Who knew Franco could feel so good?

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I realized I hadn’t even noticed the noise of the bar fading around us, the rest of the world disappearing for that brief moment. Franco’s forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling as we tried to catch them.

He didn’t say anything at first, his eyes still closed, like he was savoring the moment. And I understood that, because I was too. There wasn’t any need for words.

After a few beats, Franco finally opened his eyes, his gaze soft but intense. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

“Was it worth the wait?” I teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

His eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a grin. “More than you know.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead, lingering there for a moment as I closed my eyes and let the warmth of it settle between us.

I smiled up at him, still catching my breath. “I am so happy you’re not the tire guy.”

Franco blinked, a puzzled look crossing his face. “The... tire guy?”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry about it,” I whispered against his mouth, enjoying his confusion. “You’ll catch on eventually.”

#f1 x reader #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic

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