#I did not address all of my thoughts on the show

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (28)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of masturbation, public dirty talk, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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Even though he had expected nothing else, his wife's reaction completely devastated him anyway − her words cut through him like daggers, showing him his own face in the light of the truth.

What should I do now?

Divorce you?

Not speak to you for eight years?

He didn't know what he should answer.

The realisation that he was constantly searching for fault in her because he felt guilty himself, that he was accusing her of betrayal because he had betrayed her himself, caused him to no longer know who he was anymore. He felt so lost and heartbroken that he had simply burst out crying in front of her like a child scolded by a parent.

He just wanted her to forgive him.

When she told him what Alys had seen in her dream and informed him of her conditions, even though he was dying at the thought of spending even one more day in this fortress, he sat down at her oak desk the next morning to write a letter to his brother-king.

My King, our half-sister has agreed to our terms, however, she makes her own demands. I have decided, in order to alleviate the situation, to travel with my wife to Dragonstone, where we are currently staying. We want to try to convince them to change their minds − one order from you is enough for me to return to King's Landing. Your loyal brother

His niece was furious with him − he had never seen her like this before and preferred not to address her at all when she spoke to him knowing that he would only make matters worse. He hoped that his conciliatory attitude and the fact that he had fulfilled her wish would make her calm down.

The thought that he wasn't her prisoner didn't comfort him, because he felt like one anyway.

Wherever he went he might encounter someone he didn't feel like looking at, so he preferred to stay in her chamber and bear it somehow.

As soon as she had left her quarters he rose from his chair and began to walk around her room, looking at the various objects on the shelves and bookcases − he looked through the books she was reading, finding with satisfaction that most of them were also in his possession in King's Landing.

He spotted her embroideries in one of the drawers, including those he remembered well from his childhood, and smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if she had kept them for the sake of memories.

He shuddered as the door to the chamber opened suddenly and he slid the drawer back in, turning with a rapidly beating heart − Daemon stood with his hands folded behind him, sighing heavily.

"− come, nephew − we must discuss many important matters −" He said with a kind of boredom, as if what he was speaking of was a duty he had no desire to perform at all.

"− I will not go anywhere with you, uncle − I am quite comfortable here −" He said lowly, looking away, frustrated.

Why did he always feel like a little child in his presence?

Daemon chuckled at his question.

"− it wasn't a request − come, let's have a walk −" He encouraged him in a ferocious, mocking tone from which he felt rage and a clench in his stomach.

He knew he couldn't refuse.

Daemon led him out of the fortress through one of the side entrances − he checked a few times before the sound of the sea surrounded them that the dagger he always carried with him was strapped to his belt.

They stepped out onto a gigantic white beach seeming to stretch on endlessly to him, with only the water to their left and high rising rocks and mountains to their right.

They were completely alone.

His uncle finally stopped and turned to him, looking at him for a moment without a word.

"− why did you suggest you spend the night in Dragonstone? −"

He licked his lips, feeling his heart stop at his question.

"− that was her wish −"

"− don't fucking lie to me or I will pierce your skull with my sword −"

He looked at him in disbelief, his jaw clenched so tight he felt like it was going to burst, his fingers involuntarily tightening into fists.

Silence fell again, the sound of the waves around them, their hair and tunics blowing in the wind.

It seemed to him that his uncle's gaze was piercing him to the core.

"− Larys Strong had his own plans for you − I couldn't let that happen −" He muttered at last.

"− does she know about this? −" He asked coldly.

He swallowed hard at the thought that he was referring to his wife.

"− yes −"

"− did you tell her before or after we came here? −"

He lowered his gaze already knowing what he was leading up to, he felt like his whole body was quivering.

"− after −"

Daemon snorted in annoyance, shaking his head as he looked out at the sea stretching before them.

"− you fucking cunt − I was supposed to personally deal with his rats overdue in the Eyrie, but you ruined my plan − though surely that's good for you −" He confessed looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He felt a powerful, cold shiver run along his back at the thought that he knew everything.

He knew that they were about to be murdered.

And Rheanyra?

Seeing that he couldn't force out the question that was pressing on his lips his uncle laughed out loud.

"− the rider of the world's greatest dragon since Balerion's passing is unable to get a word out − shame has taken away your speech? − where is your pride that you always boasted so much? −" He continued, provoking him to explode, his heart pounding like mad.

What should he do?

How should he behave?

"− you are exactly as I assumed − you are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him − you are like a stone, unable to move on − my daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool −"

"− what do you want from me, uncle? −"

"− no − what do YOU want − are you able to name it in your head, or are you like a child in a fog without your mother? −" He asked in a raised voice, frustrated, making him feel a hot wave of humiliation flowing through his body.

"− I want her to be safe −"

"− what happened in King's Landing? −"

"− I −"

"− fucking speak − and you'd better say the truth −"

"− your spies in the Red Keep didn't report it to you? −" He hissed, his uncle taking a step towards him, looking him straight in the eye.

"− you're trying my patience −"

He pressed his lips together feeling his heart rise to his throat, cold sweat running down his back.

"− my mother gave her moon tea without my knowledge − she wanted to be able to pact with you and give her to Lord Arryn's son −" He said dispassionately feeling, however, that his voice trembled. Daemon looked at him wordlessly.

"− and what have you done to punish those who wronged my daughter, and your wife? −"

He looked at him feeling his whole body freeze.

"− what would you have done to her if she had been the one to fail your trust? − if she tried to fight for her freedom, if she stood up to you and threatened your mother? −" He asked, stabbing his words into him like daggers .

He didn't know the answers to these questions.

He never wanted to ask himself them.

"− I did everything I could − she is my mother − you would expect the same from your daughter yourself −"

"− and yet she was the one who came to beg her own mother to surrender her claim to the crown when yours was encouraging your brother to steal the throne that never belonged to him − gods, Viserys has taught you nothing, has he? − you see nothing but your mother's skirt to which you have always been clung −" He muttered with some kind of disgust from which he felt a cold, unpleasant shiver and discomfort in his stomach.

"− I regret − I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow − I did not, though it was my duty −"

He looked at him in disbelief, feeling with horror the burning under his eyelids. He laughed and shook his head, wishing he could somehow control what was happening to him − he hid his hands behind his back feeling how much they were trembling.

"− are you remorseful, uncle? − do you see that you yourself also contributed to the division of our family into two separate parts? −" He asked with mockery and regret in his voice feeling that he was weak.

What had happened in the last few days had completely destroyed him.

"− I want to hear the truth and I will ask for the last time − what do you want? −" His uncle asked with emphasis on the last sentence.

He shuddered, realising that deep down he knew what the answer was.

He always knew.

"− I wish it was all over − I wish I could take her to Essos, as I promised her − I am tired, uncle − I have been tired all my life − I only rest when she is by my side −"

Daemon looked at him for a long moment and let out a loud breath, looking out to sea. They stood like that, not speaking to each other.

"− is there anything else you have hidden from her? −" He asked coldly, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at the memory of the Witch of Harrenhal's words.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He raised his eyes to his uncle and met his gaze, proud and distrustful, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"− I −"

"− speak −"

"− there is − there is a woman in Harrenhal, called by some a witch − she came to me last morning and −"

"− did you take her to your bed? −"

His voice stuck in his throat at his question, so he shook his head quickly, horrified.

"− no, but she said − she prophesied to me that this would happen − that − that I would put my child inside her −" He muttered, feeling with what difficulty those words left his mouth. Daemon raised his eyebrows in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

"− and? − if she said so, now there's nothing left for you to do but put your cock inside her? − don't make me laugh −" He sneered, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"− she can predict the future − I −"

"− are you listening to me, or have you not only gone blind but deaf? − if she told you that you would run away with her to Essos and beget twenty children with her would you believe her too? − she told you exactly what she wanted to happen − she hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants − I don't know any man who would put his cock into a woman by accident or by fate − pull yourself together −" He said impatiently, causing a warm wave of embarrassment to surge through him.

He thought he really was a fool.

How could he have believed her with such ease?

Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, his words brought him relief.

"− do you have anything else to convey to me? − this is your last chance −" He asked coldly, and he shook his head.

"− very well − I'm glad we've got it behind us − you may leave −" He said dryly; he pressed his lips together at his words and simply walked away, swallowing his dignity and pride.

As he stepped into his wife's chamber he noticed her seated figure out of the corner of his eye, but he did not say a word to her − he felt humiliated and tired and did not feel like making conversation.

He also recognised that she certainly still hadn't forgiven him, so they might as well keep quiet.

He therefore sat down with one of her books by the fire, trying to concentrate on what he saw before him and not on his uncle's words.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

Though some part of him did not want to admit it, he knew that subconsciously he had been waiting for those words, for any praise or appreciation from him, the Rouge Prince himself, the greatest warrior and dragon rider he had seen in his lifetime.

So why did he feel so bad about what he had said to him?

You are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him.

My daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool.

He swallowed hard, knowing that there was partly truth in his words.

For some reason though he wanted to, he couldn't completely free himself from the past and move on.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −"

He lifted his gaze to her from his book thinking he had overheard himself. He felt a wave of anger and disbelief surge through his body when he noticed in her gaze that she wasn't mocking him.

She meant it.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, getting up from his seat, throwing his book on the table and leaving immediately thinking he was going to kill this fucking bastard with his own hands.

When he finally walked into the right chamber he breathed heavily and grinned, feeling as if all the frustration, the things that had been happening to him after his conversation with his wife and uncle were going to find release at this very moment.

Jace stood up from his chair, pale at the sight of him, clearly knowing exactly what awaited him.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −" He murmured teasingly, feeling the presence of his niece beside him, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs again.

"− Aemond −"

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered, cocking his head to the side, resting his weight on his right leg, watching curiously as his nephew turned all red with embarrassment.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela growled, his smile widening even more at the sight of her, her lips tightening into a thin line.

He thought he would love to hit her in the face again before he remembered that she was a woman.

What a pity.

His wife appeared suddenly in front of him, looking at him warningly.

"− we are leaving −"

He felt like laughing at her words.

Her brothers were getting away with far too many things.

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −" He said sweetly, looking his nephew straight in the eye thinking with amusement that this time would be different.

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He muttered in a voice filled with challenge and poison seeing that Baela looked at her betrothed in disbelief.

Always pretending to be so righteous, so wronged.

He was nothing more than a pathetic brat who was once again reaching for what didn't belong to him.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela thundered, clearly wanting Jace to stop being a scared cunt, which unfortunately he was unable to do.

He could feel his own heart pounding fast, his hands clenched into fists, his breathing quick and deep.

He was ready to attack him, he was ready to rip him to shreds.

Some part of him wanted to do it.

A fucking would-be King.

You'll never sit on the throne − he thought with satisfaction − and in my wife's eyes you were never a man she could desire.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He mumbled in horror as he looked at his niece with pleading eyes.

Did he really think that he would let him hide behind her skirt like a coward?

That he would allow him to escape the consequences of his foolishness again?

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" He hissed grabbing her cheeks, heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked, as his lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss − she moaned quietly as his slick tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his low sigh of delight.

He pulled away and met her simultaneously terrified, enraged and thirsty gaze − she only mewled when he turned her with a confident tug with her back against him and pressed her figure against his chest, gripping her neck with one hand, the other sliding down her lower abdomen.

He involuntarily licked his lower lip when he felt her fingers tighten on his wrist trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do, her mouth parted in disbelief.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out, not really understanding himself what he was actually doing, focusing more on her than on them as he dug his fingertips into her womanhood lying beneath the material of her gown.

Her head was tilted back, her thighs clenched, her lips struggling to hold back the moan from which his erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks in his breeches.

He thought he will fuck her with his fingers in front of his eyes.

"− u-uncle − stop −"

In fact, he had to stop when Daemon walked into the chamber − the ashamed, horrified expression on Jace's face who couldn't even look at them and the accusing look his betrothed turned towards him was reward enough for him.

He wanted to watch his world, everything he desired burn and fall apart in his hands.

He wanted him to know what it felt like.

He knew his wife enough to know that her rage was mixed halfway with the desire and tension he himself felt. He wanted to respect her request not to take her and break it at the same time, feeling that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he did something that stopped halfway between both, coming with a sigh of relief on the material of her nightgown when he heard her moans of sweet fulfilment.

He wanted nothing more after this than to lock her in his arms and fall asleep.

"− let me embrace you −" He muttered.

"− no −" Her frustrated, trembling voice answered him.

He huffed loudly, heartbroken, at the same time understanding her and longing to take refuge again in the warmth that the closeness of her body gave him. In a gesture of desperation, he simply pressed his face against her neck, taking in her scent.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

He heard her sigh heavily, annoyed, but said nothing more. When he finally felt she had fallen asleep, his hand slowly touched her waist and slid to other side, taking its place on her warm lower abdomen.

"− no −" He heard her quiet, unclear mumble, her body stirring in his embrace.

"− shhh − let me −" He whispered in her ear, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek.

"− mhm −" She muttered, twisting towards him immersed in a deep sleep − he sighed heavily as her body involuntarily clung to his, her face sinking into the hollow of his neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling the squeeze in his heart and the tears under his eyelids that, one by one, began to run down his cheeks as his hands wove through her hair and the material of her nightgown at her back, pressing her close to his body.

He thought that for some reason during the nights he spent with her he was most vulnerable and weak, her presence, the warmth of her flesh, her closeness made him feel as if something was melting inside him, not allowing him to pretend that Daemon's words had not hurt him.

Despite repeating to himself that his uncle's words meant nothing to him, as a child he had looked up to him, dreaming of being like him − fearless, ironic, intelligent, confident, proud of his family and his heritage.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at his words, which cut into his heart like a sword, because although he had tried to find his pattern of masculinity in his father, in his older brother, in his grandfather, in Ser Criston, it was his uncle that his gaze had always followed, it was his uncle's reaction that he looked at when he and his father watched them duel.

He never heard a single warm word from his lips.

The fact that he was his mother's son had crossed him out in his eyes, and he had no intention of apologising for anything.

So what was he to do with his words?

That he did not know − nor did he know what purpose the conversation had served or why he had told him about the Witch of Harrenhal. He thought with shame that guilt and fear had crushed him so much that he had to get it off his chest, and he had chosen the worst person to do so.

What if he uses this against him?

Poison his daughter's thoughts with words that her husband feared that he would betray her in the future, beget a bastard child with another woman?

He felt a cold shudder run through his body at the thought, but for some reason he had a feeling that this would not happen.

She told you exactly what she wanted to happen.

She hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants.

He was right.

This woman, whoever she was, was playing with him and his wife.

He thought she was hoping to frighten them both and lead them to lose trust in each other.

That this was perhaps also part of Larys' plan.

He had no intention of killing his wife.

He wanted her to do it herself.

That thought, that realisation flashed through his body like a flame, his fingers clamped down on her flesh as he swallowed hard, feeling some kind of indescribable relief, finding meaning in it at last.

They knew that if his wife disappeared, he would join the war.

He sighed quietly, thinking with surprising calmness in his soul, stroking his wife's soft, dark curls with his fingers, that he would cut off the heads of all the vipers plotting against her, one by one.

He intended to personally inform his brother what their grandfather and Lord Strong were planning to do behind his back.

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[dixons-sunshine]

Love your work it’s amazing and helps me with so much shit in my life🎀 been feeling so down insecure lately .could you write something about female reader being really insecure about her appearance and her mind and intelligence ,looking at herself in mirror and Daryl catching her do it. just pure fluff him feeling bad because he wants her to see herself the way he does

That's What Makes You Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While getting ready for the party at Deanna Monroe's house with the other women, old insecurities crept up again after being dormant for a while. However, Daryl won't have his beautiful girl thinking bad things about herself.

Genre: Kinda angsty to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, insecurities.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: This was heavily self-indulgent. I struggle with body image issues, so this was easy and yet extremely hard to picture and write. But darling, even though I don't know you personally, please know that I think you're amazing and beautiful! I hope this fic portrays how much I love you, even if I don't know you personally. Daryl in this is me reassuring you that you are enough, and that you are worthy. 💜

(Also, Michonne is your hype woman in this because she is my queen and I need her to hype me up when I feel down.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Laughter filled the small room that you had found yourself in with Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Tara, Maggie and Carol. All the women were having a mini fashion show as they tried on different dresses and shoes, having the time of their lives as they did something that everyone missed from the world before the dead started walking. However, the same couldn't be said for you.

You smiled weakly at Rosita as she showed off the dress she was wearing, eyeing the way the dress fit her curves perfectly. In fact, all the women looked amazingly beautiful in their dresses. Even Carol, who wasn't wearing a dress and instead opted for a flower shirt and a pair of jeans, looked gorgeous. You couldn't deny that they all looked like princesses, and that made you feel bad about yourself—your old insecurities crept up into your mind again.

The dress that Michonne had picked out for you was splayed across your lap. You had no intention of putting it on anytime soon, preferring to want to do so without any of these stunning women in the room. You wanted to be sure of how you looked before allowing anyone to see you in the dress, and when you more than likely looked terrible in it, you wanted to be able to handle your emotions without everyone present. You didn't need to see their disgusted faces when you wore it.

“Hey, you gonna get dressed and join us downstairs or just sit there and look pretty?” Michonne asked playfully, snapping you from your thoughts.

You winced at her words, but plastered on a small smile. “You guys go on ahead. There's something I need to do before getting changed,” you lied.

Michonne frowned slightly, seeing right through your lie but choosing not to address it in front of everyone. She'd pull you aside later and ask what was wrong. For now, however, she understood that you wanted everyone to leave, and she nodded at you.

“Okay, we'll see you when you come downstairs,” she replied, ushering the other women out of the room. She turned back to you before she left, giving you a questioning look. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” you told her, not missing the way she sent you a disapproving look. You sighed and looked down, toying with the dress in your lap. “I'm fine. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?”

Michonne reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving you alone in the room.

Sighing, you hesitantly got up and started undressing, refusing to meet your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You slowly slipped the dress on, the fabric covering your skin from your chest to your mid thighs. You adjusted the straps over your shoulders, not even trying to zip up the dress from behind. You reluctantly turned towards the mirror and physically recoiled at the sight in front of you.

You continued staring at your reflection in disgust, hating the way you looked. You started getting lost in your own self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you didn't hear the door open behind you, or the footsteps that abruptly stopped in their tracks.

“Wow.”

You flinched and spun around, locking eyes with your partner. Daryl stood by the bed, staring at you with wide eyes. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes trailing over your body.

Mistaking his wide eyes for disgust rather than awe, you crossed your arms over your chest. You tried to shield your body from his view, but Daryl walked over to you and held your arms in his hands, sending you a questioning look.

“Nah, why are ya doin' tha'?” he inquired, rubbing your arms with his hands. “Ya dun' need to hide yerself from me, 'specially not when yer lookin' so pretty all dolled up.”

Without meaning to, you let out a choked sob, tears starting to fall from your eyes. Instinctively, Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly to his chest. He didn't know why you were crying, but he didn't care. He would comfort you through it, just like you had comforted him through so many things, ranging from his inability to track down Sophia all the way to the guilt he felt over Beth's death.

“I look ridiculous,” you choked out, your cries muffled into his chest. “Everyone looks so beautiful in their dresses and I look like this. I can't—”

“Shh, s'okay,” Daryl whispered into you ear, rocking you from side to side. “S'okay. I got ya.”

He simply held you in his arms, allowing you to cry all your negative emotions into his shirt. When you finally managed to calm down, you pulled back and tearfully looked up at him.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled. “It's so stupid.”

“Nah, it ain't stupid,” Daryl disagreed, taking your face into his hands. “But where's this all comin' from? Why do ya think tha' 'bout yerself?”

“I can't—I don't—”

“Please, peach,” he pleaded, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head, casting your eyes down towards the floor. “I don't know. I just... I grew up being bullied for my looks, about my intelligence, for just about everything. When everything went to shit, I guess those insecurities got buried, but now, wearing this dress, I—”

Daryl cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, but quickly pulled away again. He looked deeply into your eyes, keeping your face in place to ensure that you kept your eyes locked on him.

“Do ya trust me?” he asked.

You nodded your head. “Of course I do.”

“Then listen real close, sunshine,” he began softly yet sternly. “M'not sure wha' fuckin' assholes talked this shit into yer head, but yer not wha' ya think ya are. Yer so unbelievably smart, and ya've proved it a lot of times. S'cause of ya tha' we were able to save Hershel way back when. S'cause of ya tha' we found tha' store with all those supplies while we were on the run fer eight months. Yer such a badass, and yer so unbelievably beautiful. I wish ya could see yerself the way I see ya. Yeah, ya have yer flaws, but they're part of wha' makes ya beautiful. Nobody's perfect, but yer the nearest damn thing there is to it.”

You were flabbergasted. You felt like crying all over again, but from pure happiness this time. “You really think so?”

“I dun' think, I know,” Daryl confirmed. “I love ya so much, bunny.”

“I love you too,” you replied with a small smile on your face. You turned around and faced the mirror again, giving him a full view of the back of your unzipped dress. “Zip me up?”

“'Course,” Daryl nodded, gripping the zipper and slowly zipping up the dress.

You shivered slightly at the feeling of his fingers slowly brushing along your spine. When your dress was zipped up, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He looked at your reflection with a small smile, staring in awe at how beautiful he found you.

“Damn, woman,” he muttered with a small chuckle. “Yer gon' be the death of me, lookin' all pretty in this damn dress. Pair it with heels and we ain't makin' it outta this room tonigh'.”

You giggled and shyly ducked your head. “That's too bad. I promised Michonne that I'd go to this damn party.”

Daryl groaned and buried his head into your shoulder. “Fuck,” he mumbled, successfully coaxing another laugh from you. “Now I gotta wait? S'fuckin' ridiculous.”

Before you could respond, Rosita and Michonne walked into the room, making you and Daryl withdraw from each other's hold. Michonne and Rosita looked at you, smiles on each of their faces.

Michonne let out a playful wolf whistle. “Look at you! You're putting us all to shame.”

“She's right,” Rosita agreed. “You're looking real stunning. Daryl will have to fight of the other men. They're all going to want your attention.”

“Hell, some ladies, too. Daryl might have to fight me off,” Michonne joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I ain't lettin' anyone take her from me. 'Specially not ya, Michonne.”

Michonne laughed lightly. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”

As Michonne and Daryl bickered back and forth, with Rosita adding her own playful input, you couldn't help but feel happy. In a matter of minutes, your partner and two of your closest friends had managed to cheer you up. You doubted that your insecurities would ever fully go away, but with people you love there to remind you of your worth, you would be more than okay.

And, just to tease Daryl a bit that night, you did end up wearing the heels with the dress, and Daryl made sure you knew just how beautiful you were to him that night—by worshipping your body like the goddess you were.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus

[wonderfulwonderrful]

Season of Love (6/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: We are so back! Thank you for your support and comments; read you soon!

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 6: Collision at Turn 1

UK

Sam and Toto go to the Soft Serve Society in London the following day to have milkshakes. They share a sizeable Instagram-able shake, asking for two straws instead of one. 

The place is intimate and small, perfect for chatting. Its location in a trendy neighborhood gives Sam the ideal excuse to pull that Thom Browne boyish suit out of her suitcase.

As Sam is asking for two matcha cookies to complement their order, she notices Toto smiling like an idiot at his iPhone screen.

—Wow, that time you two spent apart did wonders for your relationship. I thought it was a "cease and desist" situation, as if there wouldn't be a turning point, but I haven't seen you like this in a long time.

—How? —Toto moves his gaze to Sam, a bit perplexed.

—Stupidly in love. So you two are genuinely back?

—Oh, that... well, we are trying this open relationship thing. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it.

Sam gives him a judgy look, her eyebrows slightly frowning. —Let me guess. Susie suggested it; you said no, then she pressured you, and you followed along. There is no need to explain further; I get it.

Toto shrugs and barely nods his head.

—It's always what Susie wants, isn't it? You are so blind sometimes —she sounds now annoyed.

—I thought you, of all people, would get it. You see love differently than in the traditional way. Preferences aside, you are more free regarding feelings and partners.

—Yes, yet I'm not into playing with other people's feelings. 

—I'm not being played or playing with her feelings.

—To which one of the two hers are you referring?

A silence.

It's the first time Sam addresses the elephant in the room. 

—Listen, I don't want to overstep, and God knows I don't want to get in the middle; I love you both; yes, I said that, and stop smiling like that, but for fuck sake, you two need to communicate and talk! LIKE TALK! I know it's not my place, and I have tried to remain as neutral as possible, but I genuinely care about Y/N; there's more you need to know about each other because this thing is going to blow in your faces the worst way.

—What's on this? Is this really happening? You telling me how you are feeling? —Toto picks up the shake to smell it, making a funny face and trying to lighten the mood. He also avoids giving Sam an answer but pays attention to her every word.

—Oh, fuck off —Sam pushes him a bit roughly.

—Sugar sure is a drug! —Toto's holding a laugh.

-

—How did your day out with Toto go?

—How do you know we went out? Stalker!

In response, you give Sam an exaggerated insulted expression (hand over your chest and open wide mouth). —He texted me when you two were at the ice cream place! He even sent me these pictures! —you show her the conversation. —By the way, that outfit of yours is CUTE!

—Oh! It was you then —she says quickly and softly.

—Sorry? —you look at Sam as if another head grew from her neck.

—Oh, nothing. Toto didn't mention anything. He was just smiling like an idiot and giggling like a teenager, looking all in love at his phone screen.

—All what? Sam, what you said?! —you feel your heart in your throat.

—Did you follow my advice? —she cuts your shenanigans.

—I tried to follow it and address our "situation," but he rushed to get wine. He ran from the conversation, and I didn't feel like having it much, either. I knew how it was going to end.

—Well, keep pushing, trust me.

—Is there something I should worry about? —you suddenly stop and look straight at her.

—It's not my place to tell —Sam answers neutrally.

Then you two board your jet with directions home, your new home, Monaco. 

Now, thanks to Sam's words, an eerie sentiment fills your head. Is she trying to warn you something?

-

It's a quiet flight; well, if it wasn't for Samanta's snoring, not even an English Bulldog snores that loud. 

Which makes you laugh hard; you have forgotten how terrible Sam sleeps. 

It's been a while since you two slept nearby, which was the most common thing for all those years you lived at the Manor.

You have always been very much like sisters.

You take out your phone and start recording a video of Sam sound asleep with T-rex arms, open mouth, and loudly snoring, all weirdly placed on the comfy, big seat next to you.

-

Monaco

Why, every time you land in Monaco, your mind is in desperate need of a Toto detox?

-

As soon as you are in the car ride home, you hit the send button on the "Get a grip, loca🏎!" group chat.

After you share the video of Sam sleeping, a long list of replies and reactions appear in the group.

She threatens to murder you in your sleep.

-

Two nights after being back, when Charles enters the apartment wearing the world's most oversized outfit while trying to juggle four bottles of wine - one held under his chin - and a big fancy grocery bag while avoiding stepping on "Robbie" - your Roomba robot - you feel so at home; this couldn't be a more domestic scene for you two before you rush to help him.

Never mind, too late! Now, the kitchen floor looks like a crime scene. 

God, how much you missed him! Keeping your friendship while hiding it from the rest of the Scuderia has been difficult. 

Ferrari is a hermetic group that likes it that way; being extra friendly with the enemy could cost Charles' head, thanks to Binotto's paranoia.

—FUCK! FUCK AND FUCK! —he lets out, looking at the now red floor, followed by various French cursings coming out of that pouty mouth. 

—At least the other three survived —you hear Sam say, entering behind him and holding two more bottles and a cake.

—Several bottles of wine and lots of food. This is an intervention for me, isn't it? —you ask, looking at them suspiciously.

Both of them energetically nod.

—We need to talk about Bruno —Charles jokes; he obviously means Toto while grabbing the paper towel on the kitchen counter to try cleaning his mess, which is as useless as you expected.

—Damn —is all you let out.

At some point, Charles gives up and prefers leaving a fat tip and a Post-it for Rosita when she comes clean tomorrow morning.

-

—Hi, I have a quick question: How much do you weigh?

A text from Toto comes in the early hours of the day as you are about to hit the treadmill in your luxurious building's training center. You rushed down there, unable to sleep a second more.

After the intervention, you comprehend lots of things need to change.

—(Y/N's weight), why? —you reply. 

It's still dark outside.

Only you and three others are alone in the enormous gym section, which feels quiet and isolated, perfect for decompressing. 

Apparently, when Toto and you are apart, you are both early birds. It's always a snooze fest when you two are tangled in sheets. Probably, it's because he makes the world's most fabulous pillow or because he loves having you wrapped in his arms.

Judging by his text's unusual hours, he may be overthinking it too. Lately, you have felt driven to exercise earlier in the morning as well to avoid losing your sanity.

A couple of minutes later, a video of Toto adjusting the weight of his barbells to your weight before doing a couple of hip thrusts comes as a reply.

You watch the video a couple of times, okay, several times, before hitting the reply button. —I can help you do some repetitions if you want; I know a very effective routine! My trainer also advised me I needed more cardio —you tease him, feeling a tingle down there, hehe. 

Fuck! You are falling for it again, and you just swore to Sam and Charles that there would be no Toto during this break!

As Toto reads your text, a pleased smirk forms on his lips, and then he exhales and returns to exercise. 

He shouldn't be feeling this desperate for your attention. It has been only the first week without seeing you.

The way you have turned his life upside down is unimaginable.

-

—Your girl is in town! —Normani sends a selfie of herself in the group chat, throwing a pose on the Monaco pier, looking flawless and stylish in a two-piece Casablanca outfit (an orange thee with colorful stripes and shorty shorts and pulling the coolest glasses) while blowing a kiss. —Let's hang out tonight!😈😈

—OH, I KNOW JUST THE PLACE —Lando writes back.

—Italy.

Several "???" appear.

—I'm in Italy —Seb clarifies.

Now, it makes sense.

—Someone needs to help Seb with this, really —George says.

—Let's take him to one of those free classes at the Apple store, you know, with the senior citizens —Checo jokes. —I'm with Carola's parents and the kids in Guadalajara, so we are out of the fun this time.

—Tell Carola I love her —you request Checo.

—I will, thx.

—I don't wish for an apple, thank you —Seb replies.

—Dear God —Lewis texts.

—Jk! Jk! I'm not that inept, and I'm not yet a senior citizen, but soon, 2032 let's go! —Seb exits the conversation.

—Lando, send the location —Lewis texts. —That's great to know, Seb. I'm already saving for our turbo wheelchairs to challenge you in races at the retirement home.

—There, see you guys at 1 a.m.

—I want to live enough to witness that, Lewis —Mick enters the conversation.

—This club looks like a shithole! I don't wish for my organs to get stolen —Charles points out after looking for the place on Google Maps; it's only a run-down facade photo of the place in a not-that-neat street.

—Trust me, you are going to love it —Lando comments.

—Is it private? —Lewis asks. —Cause last time we went out in London, getting us out of there was a nightmare.

—That's precisely why I'm suggesting this place!

—Spain.

—I'm in Spain —Carlos texts, mocking Seb. —Have fun without me, guys, even though I don't think you can. Send pictures. I miss you, my friends.

—Te extraño, too🙇‍♀️ —you reply, Carlos, you have become fond of him.

—🥰🥰 —Carlos sends.

—I'm liking this sketchy, mysterious place already —Sam joins in.

—Sam, is Millie still in town? —you ask her, you met Millie for brunch two days ago.

—No, I already left 😭😭😭. Mick invited me to hike in Patagonia—a photo of them out in nature follows her text. 

—Okay, the ones who are going, please send a hands-up emoji; I'm booking the table —Lando texts.

-

You make your way through the winding streets of Monaco on Charles' bike at full speed; you are sure you flashed at least four people with that party mini dress you are wearing as you head to the mysterious nightclub. 

As soon as you park, you agree with Charles that it looks like a sketchy part of town, but the faint sound of pulsing music and the flickering lights emanating from a door down a narrow corridor between two buildings right in front of you quickly distract you and guides you in.

Soon, as you enter and go down the long stairs, you are immediately enveloped in a world of luxury "decadence." 

The atmosphere is electric, and the air is heavy with the scent of exotic perfumes. 

—It smells like good sex —is what Lando tells you as he greets you, looking at your two "trying to discover the scent" faces.

The walls are decorated with striking artwork, each more provocative and daring than the last.

For sure, this place is the stage for many wild escapades.

As almost everyone gets there, the group is drawn to the center of the club, near where the main stage, lit up with swirling lights and seductive, almost naked dancers. 

Your table in the VIP area "it has the best location in the place", again, according to Lando.

As you sit next to Nomani, who gave you the world's greatest greeting hug, you get mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of the music and the dancers' graceful motions. 

You get transfixed, unable to tear your eyes away from them. Gorgeous he/she/they are on the stage.

—Beer, gin, what are we drinking? —Normani asks you.

—Tequila —you answer too quickly for her and Sam's amusement.

—Tequila, it is! —she says loudly and makes a little dance, shaking the girls around. The more than happy waiter witnesses it before getting the bottle.

You pour everyone a shot to start the night. Lewis just arrived, and George is running late as usual.

—Can you smell it? —you ask everyone.

A couple of "What?" come along.

—The regret —you joke as you all take the shot.

The group then goes full party core, joining the pulsating dance floor and losing themselves in the music. 

Laughter and shouts fill the air as the exotic dancers approach you and the crowd to exchange some sensual moves.

Amidst the chaos and allure of the night, Toto arrives. Unexpectedly.

Charles and Sam instantly look at you, almost throwing you darts.

—I swear to God I didn't invite him!

George did.

-

As alcohol skyrockets Lando, he starts doing push-ups for you in the middle of the dance floor as a techno-dub mix of Olivia Newton John's and Dua Lipa's "Physical" starts playing while he looks straight at you.

—Is that supposed to impress me? —you raise an eyebrow, cross your arms, and lean on Lewis, who is also witnessing the action.

—Is it working?

—Never stop believing in your dreams —you laugh it off, and Toto playfully rolls his eyes at him, then winks at you.

"Oh, God, I'm weak! I'm not going to resist the temptation."

—The dancer with the jockstrap hasn't taken his eyes off you the entire night —Toto points out for Normani, gesturing to which one he refers.

Normani makes a "definitely wouldn't mind" expression. —Too bad I don't do one-night stands —she confesses.

—Like ever? —Lewis looks at her like she is from Mars.

—Hopeless romantic right here! —Normi answers. —I like to party, but I'm so old-fashioned. Thanks, Mom!

—What a classy lady, indeed! —George says.

—It's my Britishness britishing —she jokes. —I want a husband, a big house in the countryside, horses and babies, you know, the traditional.

—Like, literally, this is the worst place to discuss family! —Sam warns them with a "Don't kill the mood, guys" look.

—The worst! —you all burst out laughing.

—I'm not sure if she is messing with us or..? —Lando comes closer to saying to Charles.

—No, really! It's my biggest wish. I can't wait to be a mom! —Normani lets out. 

—But you are so young! —everyone looks so shocked at her. Quite the revelation!

—I KNOW, but I want four! So, I better hurry up.

—FOUR?!! —everyone kind of screams in response.

Normani looks at them with a big smile, happy with the chaos her confession is causing.

—I get you, girl. I do love one myself; I have wanted to be a mom for years now. I feel I'm close to adopting one, but I need to do something with my schedule first. It would be impossible with a baby!

Toto listens to your conversation, very quiet and still, looking as if something inside him broke.

-

—Hey, I want to talk to you privately. I have something important to tell you; it's been on my mind for a while —Toto approaches you to whisper in your ear.

—Oh, sure, yeah —you agree to. "Okay, breathe, the moment it's coming."

When you reach a quiet spot to talk without all the people buzzing around, the loud background noises, and the almost butt-naked performers, you two remain there in an awkward silence for a minute.

Toto looks like he wants to say something but doesn't, so you break the ice first, feeling your hands shaking a bit.

—So what do you want to tell me that's so important?

He looks straight at you and takes two steps to close the distance between you. —Ahem, so... so what are you planning for... for the off-season? —he takes you off guard.

"Okay, this is not what I was expecting."

—I... I don't know... yet.

—Maybe we could spend it together. I know a private island that would be perfect —Toto offers you, totally improvising.

—Oh, I see...

—I mean... if you want to.

—No, no, of course, I want to!

—Perfect, then —he says, his voice deep. Toto then takes your hand, and you're surprised by the warmth from his touch.

"Coward" "Selfish" is all Toto thinks for himself. "But I don't want to lose her. I need her just a bit more. I don't know how to quit her."

—What do you say if we continue this conversation somewhere even more private? —Toto invites you, his intense dark eyes piercing right through you. 

Before you have time to respond, he takes your hand and leads you toward the exit at the back of the place and into his car.

Soon, you arrive at his luxurious penthouse, abandoning almost all of your party clothes in the process. 

You glance around the dimly lit living room, admiring its opulence. The walls are decorated with fine art, and the scent of wealth lingers in every corner.

Toto, already bare-chested, removes the rest of his clothes, revealing himself. You can't help but stare at his toned abs, defined muscles, and delicious dick. 

He smirks, noticing your admiration, and pushes you closer to the sofa. It creaks softly under your weight as he sits you down, eyes locked onto each other.

—You're stunning —Toto says while tracing his fingers down your body as you remove your last piece of clothing.

Your pulse quickens at his touch, and you move in, pressing your lips hard against his.

Toto's tongue sneaks its way between your parted lips as he pulls your naked body close to his. You moan softly.

Slowly, he leans back onto the plush pillows, taking you with him. Your bodies intertwine in a passionate embrace, enjoying the heat from his broad chest into you as you run your hands all over him, feeling every inch of Toto pressing against your core.

He grabs you by the hips, grinding you against him forcefully, causing an excited whimper to escape your lips. You can't help but crave his every single inch.

Sliding yourself lower, you feel him harden beneath you. —Fuck, you're so hard —you whisper into his ear as you stroke his length up and down. 

Toto flips you onto your back, not letting you control the show yet, spreading your legs wide. He effortlessly glides both of his hands beneath your ass, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

His left-hand squeezes your ass cheek possessively while his right supports your lower back. Then Toto lowers his mouth to your inner thigh, his tongue trailing a path of wetness up to your core, where he tastes you. 

You gasp, your breath hitching whenever his tongue flicks your clit.

Plunging his tongue deep inside you, he tastes the sweetness of your essence. Moving back up to your clit, he sucks hard, provoking you to tremble under the pleasure.

Your fingers entangle his thick hair, tugging and pushing as waves of delight roll over your body. 

Toto stares at your swollen clit and massages it gently, building an almost unbearable tension in the pit of your stomach before he slides first one finger, then two inside of you, feeling you tighten around them as he moves them in deliberate circles.

—What the fuck, you feel incredible —he mumbles against your folds. He increases his pace, sucking harder, flicking faster until you are shuddering against him, gasping for breath, about to break apart.

Your vision gets blurry as an involuntary moan escapes your lips.

—I'm so fucking close —you cry out, inarticulate with pleasure. Toto looks up and climbs back up your body, kissing and nipping at your soft flesh as he goes up until his thighs are between yours.

—You want me to make you come, don't you? —he whispers seductively, nibbling on your earlobe.

You nod, biting your lip. You need Toto to fill you, to end this unbearable craving he had built inside you.

—Please, Toto —you beg, thrusting your hips upward. A desperate whimper tears from your throat when your sexes don't meet.

Toto chuckles softly, smirking at your desperation. —Then fuck me —he murmurs, placing you on top of him, inviting you to ride him right there, inviting you to guide him inside of you. —Fuck me hard.

The feeling of him filling you up, inch by inch, sends waves of ecstasy through your body. —Oh, god, yes —you moan, encouraging him deeper.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony as you ride waves of pleasure. Toto grunts and groans with each bounce, whispering obscenities in your ear as you cowgirl him with an arched back, panting heavily. Wetness pools between you as your sweat-slicked bodies slap together rhythmically.

Toto grabs your hands and pins them behind your back, changing the angle of his thrusts. He hits a spot deep within you that sends shivers down your spine, producing a guttural moan from your lips. 

He smirks at the sound and repeats the action, watching your reaction with fascination.

—Fuuck —you cry out, every muscle tensing as your fingers curl into fists. 

Toto continues to plow into you, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, making your tits bounce without control, making you a mess. 

You look down at him to see your bodies moving in a slick rhythm, leaving trails of sweat and lust on your skin. He looks wild, eyes burning with desire and mouth parted in a low growl as the scent of sex permeates the air around you.

You whimper as he releases one of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your hand around your breast. Your fingers tease your sensitive nipple, sending a fresh wave of sensation flooding through you.

Toto watches you touch yourself, entranced by the movement of your hand on your breast as his thrusts become erratic.

—Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful —he mutters roughly, his hips slamming into yours hard. The sound of your bodies colliding resonates throughout the room, mixing with your erratic breathing. 

—You like that? —Toto asks, smirking at your eager expression. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, ready to burst at any moment.

Toto's dark eyes pierce into you, watching every twitch of your face and every moan of breath.

His thrusts become more deliberate, each one pressing into your womb.

—Fuckkk —Toto groans loudly, struggling to contain himself. His muscles tense as he gives it to you very fast; sweat drips down his face, onto his chest, and you.

—Toto! —you moan very loud as you come all over his dick.

—I need you —he confesses to you as he is about to come. You bounce hard and desperately on his cock, till you hear him grunting loud; a mess of panting Toto fills you up.

-

Ferrari's big anniversary is coming up next weekend, and they are set to throw the biggest party ever, a very fancy gala that will take place in Rome, or so Charles discloses to you.

—I'm actually excited for this one! —then he turns to show you the jewelry bracelet he likes before trying it on while cheerfully chit-chatting.

—This one is more your style, I like it better —you agree with his pick, as you two are out shopping.

While the sales lady adjusts it to his wrist measurements, Charles continues telling you: —This party has been in the making for so long, and all the rumors we have been hearing about it from the planners keep getting better; it honestly sounds so good!

You attentively listen to him while trying on a set of butterfly diamond earrings. Yes, you need them.

He continues: —I really wish I could take you like my plus one! But I'm taking my mom; I promised her way before meeting you.

—Oh, sweetie, no worries! But do tell me more about it. Sounds fabulous.

—Well, it will be very VIP, with only big clients, a couple of A-lister celebrities, and influential motorsports people. There's a lot of gossip about what or who will be the entertainment.

—I guess I'm not part of the big names of motorsports yet because I haven't been invited, haha. Mattia doesn't like me, isn't it?

—He is not your biggest fan, but almost no one has been invited; as far as I know, it's just the Scuderia and people Mattia considers his "paddock friends." —Charles gestures with his hands. —And some special guests with a history with the brand, like Niki. He is going! I know because Sam is his plus one; she told me yesterday.

—Maybe I should buy Ferrari to party with you at that fabulous event —you laugh it off as you sign the check for the earrings.

—And to party with Niki —Charles adds, joking.

—I heard he goes hard! —you joke back. Nowadays, if Niki stays up after 10 p.m., he considers it a wild night, in his words.

-

As you are about to finish your grilled salmon at that gorgeous "Gaia" restaurant in Monte Carlo, your phone buzzes on top of the white mantelpiece, grabbing your attention.

—Didn't you lose something?

—Not that I know.

—How weird, cause I have this plus one ticket with your name on it.

—Haha. You got me!

—Feeling like going to a fancy party in Rome?

—A getaway trip to Italy? SIGN ME UP! —you happily reply, already thinking about what you will wear.

-

Rome

As the sun descended over the iconic Roman Colosseum, flashing cameras lit the red carpet at the ancient structure's entrance. 

Sleek Ferraris pull up, each more luxurious than the previous, dropping the celebrities and high-profile guests off to make their grand entrances, dressed in the most glamorous outfits and adorned in shining jewels. 

Amidst all that circus, you two stay on the sidelines, watching the spectacle unfold before quietly skipping the paparazzi and splitting apart to enter the temporarily built ballroom.

—Surprise! —you extend your arms to Leclerc; he is now fresh off the red carpet, the one you avoid to keep it as discreet as possible.

A prominent smile forms on the lips of the Monagesque. —We could have shared the flight here, you know! Instead of you flying here all by yourself —Charles rolls his eyes at you and then hugs you. —I really believed you when you said you didn't get invited. You got me!

"But I didn't fly by myself!" You want to correct him on that, but you don't.

Inside, the atmosphere is as opulent as outside. Red lights illuminate the ancient structure, and lavish decorations adorn every table set. Cirque du Soleil performers move gracefully through the crowds, dazzling costumes twirling and shimmering as they entertain the guests with their mesmerizing acts.

You take in all the sights and sounds of the extravagant gala surrounding you, where motorsport legends mingle with billionaires, entertainers, engineers, celebrities, and beautiful models. 

Laughter, loud music, and chatter fill the air, along with the clinking of champagne glasses.

-

After having a blast dancing around, chatting, and goofing an hour later, you go to look for Sam, knowing she must be somewhere around. 

But the place is enormous, the crowd is big, and no luck so far; she is nowhere to be seen.

You get tired of searching for her and go to the bathroom. By this point, you have had many drinks, "Damn, that waiting line is long!"

As you try to find something to entertain you while you wait, you start scanning the place with your eyes, observing every gorgeous detail, when the silhouette of a beautiful blond woman steals your attention. Four girls in front of you in the line, there is Susie.

She is as beautiful as you expected her to be in person but more petite; she looks fit and fierce but kind. You can't help but stare at her before wondering what she is doing here. Then a "Duh! Idiot! She is a big name in motorsports!" hits you.

-

As you return to your table from grabbing chocolate-covered strawberries a bit later, you run into Sam.

She stares at you with the widest eyes ever, completely surprised. —What? —she lets out, standing still.

—Surprise! —you reach to hug her. —I have been looking for you all damn night! —she barely hugs you, and your big smile starts to fade away. —Is all good? —you ask, concern while looking straight at her.

—I'm so sorry, Y/N. I genuinely am —she mumbles. Samanta's features are full of dismay.

—Sam, you are worrying me.

She gestures to you to turn around.

"Oh, there is that feeling you remember so well." 

That awful fucking feeling of getting your heart shattered. Like a bullet going through the flesh, a sting of pure pain as if your heart was glass and was getting crushed by a hammer, pure and profound pain as you watch Susie wrapped around Toto's neck with no inch of space in between them, standing by the Mercedes guest table, sharing soft kisses and pets. 

Yet you are so skilled at hiding your feelings that it requires an expert - like Sam - to figure you out.

With a neutral face, you faintly say: —I need a moment.

—Y/N... I will go with you...

—I need a moment, I... I need to get fresh air. I will be right back —you start walking in the opposite direction to them, and Sam follows your every step.

—Y/N. I'm here for you...

—I'll be back, Sam. I need a moment, please —you make her stop following you around. So she contains herself and watches you walk away, worried about you. 

Sam knows your mental health hangs from a fragile thread.

-

—I want a Tequila and tonic with three tequila shots in it, please —Samanta brusquely drops herself on her seat at the Mercedes guest table and asks the waiter for a heavy drink.

—That would be two, please. You have learned from the master herself. Where is she, tho? I spotted Y/N and was going to greet her, but I got distracted by a sexy lady asking for a selfie. Now I don't know where she went to —Lewis asks while looking around, trying to spot you among the crowds.

The music is loud, so conversing is challenging if you aren't near enough.

—She's outside chatting with Vettel —Charles inserts himself in the conversation between a pissed-off Sam and a clueless Lewis, arriving a bit rushed at the table and placing himself between their two chairs.

—Hi mate! —Lewis pats his arm, and half hugs him while still sitting. Charles rubs his shoulder in response.

—Hey, Sam. I made the changes you suggested to my speech. Do you approve? —Leclerc hands her a folded piece of paper; "She is out there crying" is written in big caps.

Sam and Charles exchange warry looks.

—It's perfect. I will help you practice it.

—Great idea, let's g...

A loud "ow" sound from the crowd interrupts them. A tray hits the floor loudly, followed by glasses breaking. It's all coming from far on their left. 

They all turn their heads toward the noise, as does almost everyone in the entire place.

—I'm so so sorry! Oh my god! I'm an idiot! Please forgive me! —a very distraught and nervous Vettel apologizes frantically to you. 

He accidentally crashed into the waiter holding a tray of wine glasses as he crossed paths with you, the ones that landed all over you, fucking up your dress, before smashing on the floor. 

Which made poetic sense since you felt wounded, and now you looked like it.

You could sense Toto's eyes burning into you. You weren't supposed to be there.

Lewis gets on his feet. —Jesus, poor Y/N —and he notices how Toto looks utterly shaken by seeing you here and looking whiter than a ghost, and at that moment, he gets it. Fuck.

—Seb, Seb, SEB! —you raise your voice as Vettel keeps apologizing and talking nonstop. —It's okay, sweetie. No worries; I will go change! It's all okay.

—I'm sorry. Please forgive me; let me escort you out. It's the least I can do.

—Okay. Fine —you finally agree, looking a bit done with Seb.

You two start walking to the exit, which is all the other way around for your fucking luck. As you depart, you can hear the people whispering and staring at you. 

A frozen Toto watches you walk past them, and you can't help it; for the briefest moment, you make eye contact with him before Vettel blocks the view.

—Sebastian Vettel, you are a good man —Sam whispers.

—What? —Charles reaches even closer to her.

—Y/N is not coming back. Seb was her exit out. 

—Was that on purpose?!!

—Yes. That's why you saw them talking out there, for sure.

—Are they that close? Since when? I had no fucking clue.

—Since Y/N set foot on the paddock —Sam replies, knowing the whole story. —She's an expert at hiding in plain sight.

—Should we check on her? —Lewis turns to them, still on his feet, looking tense.

—Y/N will be fine; she always is —Sam says aloud for the entire table to hear. She can feel Toto's eyes on her but doesn't care to look back at him.

-

Vettel takes you inside a black-tinted Suburban. As the chauffeur speeds away from the Colosseum, he holds your hand and never lets it go.

Seb asks you to stay at his place so he can care for you and keep you company, and you agree.

You two cuddle in the back seat while you cry in his arms all the ride to his place. 

It's a long one.

You don't know if it's because your heart is shattering into a million pieces, or because you feel vulnerable right now, or just cause Seb is such a kind and precious being that you pour all out. 

You let him know everything, every single fucking detail about your fling with Torger and how you feel right now. You had never been so forthcoming with anyone about this, not even Sam.

—I'm so sorry about how the night turned out; I invited you as my plus-one with the idea of having the best time. I wish I had known all of this before! Finding it out this way, gosh, that's harsh —Seb tells you, with a mixture of mortification and sadness.

—You aren't the one who should apologize! Hey, at least we had a good time on the flight here. Thanks to you, now I want to build hundreds of hotels for the bees.

He smiles brightly before adding: —Right now, you need to rest and feel, let it all out of your system, and tomorrow start new! I'm here for you.

—Thanking for acting out that exit; you deserve an Oscar.

—I have been mistaken for Brad Pitt before, you know —he jokes to try to make you smile, but it's in vain. —You are a good actress, too.

-

You crash on his couch. Barely making it inside, collapsing as soon as you cross the entrance door, feeling drained.

You have experienced the "heart broke syndrome" before and know how it goes, so you needed to lie down ASAP.

-

After God knows how many minutes since you blacked out on the sofa, you hear a noise above you. You slightly and a bit unwillingly open your eyes to see Seb covering you with a remarkably soft blanket that feels so delicious. He drops a puffy pillow on the rug beside you and lays himself down there next to the couch.

You move to face him as he gets comfy there on the floor. —What are you doing?

—Oh, shit, did I wake you up? I'm staying here if you don't mind —he looks at you with apprehension in those stunning eyes.

—You are the sweetest —you tell him as you slowly drift off, exhausted.

As you fall asleep again, you understand now why Lewis dared risk it all for Seb and start wondering what happened to those two.

-

You wake up disoriented and feeling anxious. 

It's still dark. 

Seb is profoundly asleep and relaxed in the blueish-tinted living room, with the moonlight sneaking through the large windows. 

You stay there, unable to sleep but with zero energy to move. You observe his breathing, which weirdly helps you soothe yourself when suddenly, your phone screen lights up, stealing your gaze.

You try to reach for it since Seb placed your purse and phone on the coffee table at arm's distance before going to look for an oversized T-shirt that could work you as pajamas. 

It's a simple text from Toto. "Can I please talk to you?"

As you navigate your phone, you notice many missed calls from Sam, Charles, and Lewis.

Well, now it's clear communication and sincerity weren't your thing. You weren't one of those couples. 

Were you even a couple?

"Maybe it's best this way," is all you reply to him before turning your phone off.

Tears start coming down again as your phone screen dims and fades to black again.

-

The following day, Seb offers you to stay for as long as you wish, and you will take his word for it.

You don't feel like returning to the city you share with Toto; it's way too risky for you to be in Monaco. 

You need time to compose yourself. A lot is about to happen soon, and you need to be at your best. You can't fail. To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mercedes fanfic #formula 1 fic #toto wolff imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #toto wollf x oc #toto wolff x occ #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 blurb #toto wolff blurb

[sergle]

(re: sssniperwolf and jacksfilms) It's laughable that she escalated it that hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure stalking him like that is illegal and it's terrifying regardless, but Jack said in a stream (can't remember which one) that he wasn't about bringing up past controversies of hers or cancelling. And now she shows up outside his house (wtf!!!). Like he was willing to only call her out for stealing and freebooting but she's gone and stalked him and Jack doesn't seem like the type of guy to take that shit. Actual WTF moment from her part. wild

omg long post below bc apparently I have opinions: YES!! THAT'S WHAT'S SO INCREDIBLE ABOUT THIS... Jack has been genuinely diligent about keeping things on-topic in his streams, and hasn't brought up any of her other Stuff, or anything Personal. Despite the fact that she kickstarted the whole thing by making it INCREDIBLY personal and attacking his physical appearance... His goal has been to call out and bring attention to content theft, and he's stuck with it. Dude's also cared about this for years, and she's not the first content thief he's criticized. He just hates the way that freebooting has become so accepted-- to the point where youtube praised her for "coming up with such creative video ideas"? Hey! Ew! Dude wasn't trying to get her cancelled though, there was no smear campaign of her character. He's been rallying to get her to CREDIT the creators that she relies on for all of her content. It would set a precedent for all other "react" channels on the platform for one of the biggest channels on youtube to actually give credit where credit is due. Or, god forbid, get permission first? It's not hard. It's already done the job of making some other people who do "react content" self-analyze whether or not their content is transformative, and to maybe care about crediting the creators they rely on for their genre to work. There is a way to make this kind of video that isn't so slimy. And making fun of her lackluster-at-best reactions is so far from even being a big deal. Bc she literally does just sit there and say nothing. Plus, his goal has a clear End built into it: if she started shouting out the creators she takes content from, and put links directly to their pages in her video descriptions, the job would be done! That's what he's asking her to do. Real bare minimum stuff. It legit would have been easy to steer away from the content theft and to also talk about her history of lying to her audience! her ghosting a dying kid with cancer who was a big fan of hers! the fact that she's been arrested for armed robbery! her history of transphobia! He would also get more clicks that way, which is what she claims is his sole goal- to get more clicks. I'll bring it up though! She's been a terrible person the whole time, and has kept a steady course of manipulating her audience of young children and/or, let's be completely honest, simps- into thinking that she's a Wholesome creator. (And now, into thinking she's an innocent victim.) All of the actual effort put in by her has gone toward optics, not the content she puts out. A carefully constructed online persona, for one, but also literal appearances. Jack totally can't say this, bc she already went off the handle and said the only reason he doesn't like her is bc he Hates To See A Woman Be Successful. But I can! That was a cheap shot for her to use that argument when, for once, it's not applicable! Much the opposite, even! Dudes online wouldn't go to bat for her if she didn't look the way she does. And it weakens any case she'd have against him by making baseless claims like that. She banks hugely on being an attractive woman to get her clicks/following. A massive amount of effort is put into her appearance. The makeup, the lip fillers, putting her hair in little pigtails, the chokers and tube tops, the big non-prescription Nerd Glasses, the thumbnails where she has her mouth open in That Expression?

I don't even have to say anything. But making a weird facial expression and putting your hair in pigtails aren't moral failings. Showing up at someone's real life home (whose address you shouldn't even have access to), filming the front of their house at night, doxxing them to your audience of millions of people? Because you were mad at them online? That is fully scary! Yeah girl I'm pretty sure that Jack can press charges! There is absolutely no way to take the moral highground now that she's literally stalked him, and doxxed his home. She tried to goad him and Erin (Jack's wife) out of the house, also, which creeps me out even more-- because what was she planning to do? The fact that she's been arrested for violent crime before does pop into my mind! lmao! Jack was streaming a game at the time that she was outside his home, and these clips of him, his friends, and Erin reacting in real time to what is genuinely a scary situation have been taken down in case he needs to use them in legal action. Shit is legitimately serious!

#sergle answers #long post #LONGEST POST ON EARTH I'M SO SORRY #saying all this out loud only takes a few minutes but typing it... girl this is a BOOK #clearly I have thoughts on this Online Drama but also this isn't online! #these are people who exist in real life. and compromising a person's safety bc he criticized you for stealing tiktoks #is a real life thing. this isn't confined to online spaces! you can turn off your computer to get away from An Argument #but someone going to your house?? that's absolutely terrifying #and all of this is just because he's been telling her to credit the creators. it could have been resolved so simply. #I hope he takes legal action against her bc he genuinely has grounds to do so. #and I can't imagine how terrified and upset I would be if someone was outside my door. filming my house for their audience. #also the 'what if the roles were reversed' argument is rarely made in good faith... but she's already brought up the topic. #this would be getting even more coverage and the optics would be Even Creepier if a strange man with millions of followers showed up #at the home of a woman- just bc she criticized his videos- filming her home address for all to see and trying to get her to come outside. #It's just as creepy that sssniperwolf did this as it would be coming from ANYONE else #it's been downplayed bc her being a little skinny woman means that A Man shouldn't be threatened by her #which. even if she wasn't going to Do anything. any one of her rabidly loyal online followers MIGHT. she's not the only one who could go to #his house now! anyone could show up. #sergle.txt #Jacksfilms #Sssniperwolf

[pineappical]

father and son

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanart #henry lasso #remember when jason sudeikis said that ted lasso was a show about bad fathers and we all thought it was about ted's own father and how his #passing caused ted to become the kind person he currently is. and we thought that was the 'bad father' part of him. and then s3 rolls #around and it just hits you how his passing did cause that and More. how ted became so afraid to let down others. to let down henry by not #Winning The Whole Thing. but yeah in the end you just have to try #and sometimes i wonder if ted ever knew that he was a good father (etc etc that conversation with dr sharon in 2x10) #despite the distance and his divorce.. cherish the moment he had with his son instead of the time they spent away from each other #pn.art #SORRY THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR THE PAST 3 HOURS ITS 5AM RN I KNOW I HAVE A SHITASS SCHEDULE </3 #ted lasso spoilers #i have sooo much stuff i wanna say about this and i know ill forget to say it later but god. god i just want him to know hes enough soo bad #<- normal about fictional characters #babygirl you are so full of problems they rarely addressed. godbless #IM NOT MAKING SENSE I JUST LOVEEEEE HIMMMM :((((

[onstoryladders]

if max had been tasked to design this thing

#sorry not sorry im still mad at him #dont plan on stopping anytime soon #he was SO CONDESCENDING #''youre gonna have sex eventually'' SAYS WHO #SAYS W H O MAX #and sorry but dont take that ''as long as pisaeng agrees then no problem'' as max telling kawi that its fine because that wasnt it at all #it was a clear implicit challenge #like ''yeah bring that up and see how it goes lmao'' #be my favorite #and honestly i dont think id be so mad if it wasnt for all the queer themes in the show #the least they could do was addressing the possibility #just make max ask kawi if he WANTED to have sex with pisaeng especially because kawi says ''its not that significant'' #and like. max is pictured as this Queer Guru™ who fights for everyone else #hmmmm well not everyone apparently since the thought of asexual people existing doesnt even cross his mind #just think for a moment of kawi was actually asexual and max had said those things to him #max would become a villain in the narrativr 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #what did they do to my bestie #i cant have nice things ever #WHATEVERRRRRRRRRRRR #expectations are a disease

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The "yeah I showed up at your party" chapter is also interesting because Betty / The 1 / Mirrorball / TLGAD / Invisible String / Cardigan also have a recurring theme of being misunderstood and/or punished for your choices, wanting desperately someone to see you for who you really are, never quite feeling accepted and seeking love where it might not ever be fully returned in the way you wanted or hoped...

#i have thoughts bubbling SHIT #I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS #something something just wanting someone to show up for you 🙃 #at first i was like ok well invisible string doesn't really fit #except it does because that's like an ideal of what you'd wish for #'isn't it just so pretty to think this could have been?' #but the point of IS isn't that they were fated but that there were all these steps along the way #to bring them to where they met each other #that meant nothing on their own #but have meaning because they want it to #it would have been pretty to think they were fated but they weren't in real life etc #BESTIES WHY DID WE START TALKING ABOUT THE CHAPTERS NOW MY BRAIN CAN'T DO WORK #lmao i need to start blocking tumblr during work hours #I'm like 'don't check notifs during work hours' #then check my dash instead #me thinking too hard about taylor lyrics #writing letters addressed to the fire

[handfulofmuses]

You know what I like about the new episode?

V's and N's reaction when they reunited with J. Even after everything, they still love their boss.

We have N, who is all excited: "It is you!" and then V's amused: "Classic J."

It makes me think that V's and J's relationship were a lot more positive compared to N. I said before that N seems to kinda look up towards J and with how she treated him, he really didn't have to react the way he did but he?? Still likes her and is just happy to see her.

The fandom really made her worse than she actually is and it's so bothersome.

Like I said before, I highly doubt that J's behavior is a standard thing. Yes, she can be mean. Yes, she treated N terrible. But remember, they all got punished in the mansion because of him. Half of the time, she was just following her orders and J is not the kind of type to do things without reason.

Even when she tells him he is useless and terrible in that flashback? I still think he messed up somehow that made her react violently like that. Because so far, they have shown us that J's behavior is not without reason.

#;Playing://BestMonologueEver.mp3 (J) #she's just as much victim of the solver and the company as the others #and like i said she's their leader and was closer to tessa #so that adds extra pressure #first from the parents who already did not like having the 'dumpster pets' around #it feels like n was the punching bag for her stress #anyway i am having thoughts about my girl #and how much i hate the fandoms take on her all because of how she treats #'uwu poor sweet puppy golden retriever boy' #and they try anything to drag her down just to show n in a better light #i still can't believe that on my personal blog #someone seriously tried to tell me #when the flashback episode came out #that J is an attention hog #when she LITERALLY only spoke when someone addressed her #and was quiet the whole time #like please learn what an attention hog actually is #even in the latest episode (i will get to that in a sec) she is confused about it but does not argue with her orders

[emeryleewho]

I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #am writing #books #booklr #fiction #media analysis

[faultsofyouth]

I haven't eaten a pizza lunchable since I was 16 and I threw up an entire undigested one (3 distinct pizza crusts) while I was on acid

#my posts #that acid trip sucked #for one thing the only person i was tripping with was my 23 year old coworker who i didnt know very well #my actual friend was supposed to trip sit me but all he did was blare super overstimulating lights and music that i didnt like #and then when his gf (also my bestie) showed up she was in a bad mood so he spent the rest of the trip talking to her and ignoring us #and then because she was in a bad mood she and him decided that they should fuck with me and tell me how mad they were at me #because months before that they came into my house uninvited to look for acid that they didnt tell me they were sending to my house #and because they came over uninvited the only person home was my MOM who doesnt like acid and was not okay with having it in her house #so then my mom found out that they were shipping drugs to my house and wanted to call the cops on them #so 5 hours later i got home from work to discover all this and so then i had to tell them they cant send drugs to my house or my mom will #call the police on them. and unbeknownst to me they were both already on acid so then they started freaking out about getting arrestes #arrested**. and somehow it was all MY fault that they had a bad trip. because i told them that they werent allowed to ship drugs to my house #and that my mom was pissed at them for lying to her and to me. so then they decided to take revenge the next time i was tripping and they #werent??? u know. ive never thought about that too hard before now. but that was kind of shitty friend behavior all around #like first they do something super illegal but be sure to use My address so they dont get in trouble for it if the drugs got caught #and then they got mad at Me for setting a boundary and then decided to Punish me for setting that boundary at a time when they were too high #to be handle it. all at a time when they knew i wasnt staying at my parents house because my stepdad had threatened me #(while my bestie was there to Witness) so i was highly dependent on them for a sense of security #and they knew that and they thought it would be funny to fuck with me anyway??? #okay but then after that i stole her boyfriend so i guess all is fair in love and war

[idiopathicsmile]

you know what really grinds my gears?

okay, bear with me: so as you may know, harry houdini and arthur conan doyle were friends, at least for a while.

by the early 1920s, both arthur conan doyle and acd's wife jean, aka lady doyle, believed whole-heartedly in spiritualism, talking to ghosts and all of that. (sidenote: this was of course right on the heels of a devastating world war and a devastating pandemic, both of which had created a huge population of grieving people, so spiritualism was having a moment.)

lady doyle sincerely thought she had the ability to go into a trance state and pass along messages in writing from the dead. she offered to do this for houdini. houdini agreed.

lady doyle attempted to channel houdini's late mother. she basically drew a cross at the top of the paper and filled it with generic platitudes addressed to "harry." houdini's mom was jewish and didn't talk like that, so houdini knew the jig was up, even if lady doyle didn't. but not wanting to make the situation awkward, he kind of went along with it to their faces.

then acd decided to publish a glowing account of the seance, and since both he and houdini were super famous, it got a lot of attention, and letters started pouring in for houdini, asking if this was true. ultimately, houdini couldn't lie about it. so he essentially said, like, "yeah, i think lady doyle THINKS she can talk to ghosts but she absolutely can't." and it ruined his friendship with acd forever.

and then of course a lot of the people running seances weren't even well-intentioned like lady doyle, they were just simple charlatans taking advantage of traumatized people mourning loved ones. in houdini's youth, he and his wife had traveled the carnival circuit where he did an act pretending to commune with spirits, so he knew all the tricks of the trade AND he had lingering guilt over having done this, AND he was infuriated by this increasingly popular wave of con artists so he decided to assemble a team of anti-grifting grifters and together they went on the road exposing whichever spiritualists were preying on the locals.

houdini's best agent was a young woman named rose mackenberg, who donned disguises to visit the fraud de jour and then importantly sussed out what non-supernatural thing was actually happening, and then houdini would demonstrate the techniques onstage to packed audiences.

(if you want to know more, check out episode 175, "ghost racket crusade" of the podcast Criminal or read Tony Wolf's book The Real-Life Ghostbusting Adventures of Rose Mackenberg.)

but yeah, what really gets my goat is that all this happened and as far as i know, we still don't have like four seasons of a Leverage-style historical procedural about rose mackenberg and the rest of the crew having adventures in the 1920s as they unmask craven hucksters all over the united states. (what we do have, apparently, is one season of a show called "houdini and doyle" which is about the oddball friendship of two contrasting men solving sometimes-actually-supernatural mysteries, and whose premise does i think at the very least a real disservice to houdini's whole quest and also totally erases rose, who is arguably the most interesting part of this story to me.)

i am just steamed about this. steamed.

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

[gloxk]

Please give us sum eren & armin toxic hc Like armin and eren would be two different types of toxic. Ex!boyfriend eren blowing ur back out n sending it to ur bf or whoever ur talking to n ex!boyfriend armin not being able to take you talking to someone else so he fucks you a party or smth idk go crazy. 🤰🏾.

“Yeah my ex is crazy.”

A/N: No bc they are two completely different types of toxic. Like idk how to explain it? I js feel like eren is the type of ex to be petty and trifling. But armin..omg..armin goes off the fucking deep end. But i love my lil psychos🤭.

WARNING!: A lil fluff , toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, smut, unprotected s*x, Blackmailing, Mentions of offing someone, obsession, controlling, plus other things . +17 mdni

EREN! Please for the love of god don’t let Eren find out you fucking with someone else. This man will go from nonchalant to crazy. “Oh word? This what we doing?”. He disregards the fact yall broke up a whole month ago.

He would definitely blow up your phone after seeing a post on instagram. “Who is he?” & “He fuck you better then me?”. Oh and please don’t tell him yes. Because let me warn you. He will be right there at that door knocking.

“You know you fucking lyin. But ight we gon see.” He hung up the phone and you laughed at him. Who gave this man an ego? Did he really think he was the only man with good dick?

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door but to your surprise, it was eren. “What the fuck?” he pushed right passed you walking into your apartment. “Nah, don’t fucking play with me y/n.” You could tell he was pissed just by his voice.

This man wasted no time bending you over the couch and fucking you right there.

“Nobody could fuck you better the me.” He grabbed a fists full of your hair pulling you up to his mouth.“You belong to me. Don’t ever let me find out there’s someone other than me fucking you like this.” and to be quite frank, nobody could fuck you like eren.

Eren talked you through the whole thing. He knew he was rough with you, but god he couldn’t help it. So that’s why he praised you for taking his dick so well <3.

He took out his phone and pressed record. His hard thrust drove lewd moans from your lips. “Fuck right there!” you screamed every time his hips slapped your ass. He made sure he got glimpse of your face so the guy knew it was you. He made sure you screamed his name just to prove who you belonged to.

You got so many miss calls while eren fucked you to sleep. Every time ole boy called eren went faster. <3

You woke up alone, your bed empty. Your phone notifications were through the roof. Over 100 notifications from that guy. It was crazy. But a simple text from eren stuck out. “Let me hear word about you fucking w some again. Next time ima put em in a casket.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. But one thing you did know was he made every threat a promise. And he always kept his promises.

ARMIN! Lawd, you let armin find out you even thought about some one else fucking you, it was over.

This man went full psychotic when word got to him about you talking to someone guy. Apparently you were at a party grinding all up against him.

The first thing armin did was collect every drop of information he had on this guy. His home address, His mother’s facebook, His phone number, Job number. He knew too much on the fucker who decided to touch his pretty “girlfriend”.

It pissed him off, how dare you try to replace him. He blew up your phone to the point it crashed. “That’s so fucking cute, y/n. You think that you can just go fuck some other guy?” , “Please don’t make me do something crazy.” . The crazy part was you didn’t even fuck the guy, he was just fucking crazy. He always assumed you were cheating for some reason.

When you didn’t answer his calls he pulled up expeditiously. if you didn’t answer within the 30 minute window he wouldn’t wait to show up to your door.

“Y/n open this goddamn door.” He banged on the door. It was 2 am- oh yeah he knew you had work later, he didn’t care.

As soon as you open the door an argument ensued. “Pick up the fucking phone when I call you y/n” He yelled at you slamming the door behind him. “You ain’t my fucking boyfriend Armin. Ion gotta do shit.”

He never made you regret your words so fast. His nails dug into your hips as his pace increased. “Ain’t yo fucking boyfriend huh? Then why you letting me fuck you raw?”

Your bed was a mess after he made you cum over and over again. After he was done all you could do was mumble incoherently ‘Nobody is better then you’. He was rough but his after care made up for it <3.

He kissed your forehead before he nuzzled into your chest. “You’re the best I ever had.” he soon fell asleep after those words left his mouth.

I love my cute lil crazy guys <3

#Eyena writes♡ #eren smut #eren x y/n #eren yeager #eren x black reader #eren aot #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #armin aot #armin x black reader #armin smut #armin x you #armin x reader #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin fluff #aot x black reader #aot smut

[rizsu]

megumi's a "whatever," boyfriend. not in the sense that he has an attitude, but in the sense of agreement to your actions. you want him to buy you that korean corndog? sure, whatever. you want to match keychains with him? not quite his style, but it's whatever.

megumi's also an "i don't know," boyfriend. he never knows. he lives by the saying that ignorance is bliss, and it constantly leaves him in a state of confusion. he doesn't know how he got to the nail salon, but apparently he's found himself attempting to decide which colour's best.

"megumi, should i get this one or that one for my nails?"

"i don't know. they both look like the same colour," he repsonds, bursting his brain to find the difference.

"it is, honestly, but the shade is different."

"the first one then," he opts for the first choice, still having no idea what the difference is.

one more thing about megumi: he's a "my girl," type of man. believe it or not, he addresses you as "my girl" when you're not around. such behaviour leaves itadori and nobara in shock. the most endearing name of affection they've received from megumi bordered "idiot," or his favourite, "stupid." it's no wonder why they thought he had no capacity to be romantic.

"why are you so down in the slumps?" nobara questions, rounding the corner with itadori who's holding all her bags.

itadori joins in on the questioning, "yeah, you look like you found out spiderman isn't real."

in unison, nobara and megumi sigh heavily. it's only itadori who'd be sad at the fact that superheroes are fictional.

megumi slouches, resting his head on his knees. it bothers the other two that their friend isn't his usual self today.

"seriously, meg, are you okay?" nobara's voice softens to show her genuine concern. it doesn't last long, however. softness doesn't last long when you have the kind of friend who finishes every snack as soon as it's been bought.

"itadori yuuji, put that snack right back where you found it."

"my bad," he apologises, doing as nobara said.

the attention turns back to megumi. his aura radiates sadness — something that neither of the three knows how to deal with. well, it's better to say it than to dwell on it.

"my—" megumi stops himself, sighing at the mere thought, "my girl's mad at me and i don't know why."

"oh," the duo shares a response.

"uh, well, what did you do?" itadori asks, drumming his fingers awkwardly against his thigh.

"i don't know," the sad boy replies.

"do you ever know anything, fushiguro?" nobara pipes in. how are they supposed to help him when he himself has no idea?

megumi sighs heavily again, nobara's words hit him where it hurts the most, "you sound just like her."

"there's no saving him," itadori whispers to nobara.

"you're right. we should call her to deal with this," nobara whispers back, nodding with itadori as she secretly sends you a text.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk hcs

[ellcrys]

just got out of my meeting and the snow looks

not great ://////

#really mad about this tbh like! #i checked the weather and the temperature was supposed to hover at like 35 degrees all day??? #i thought that meant no snow #35 is like #rain weather #i would've parked in the garage instead of in the open lot and also worn my snow boots like #afadgadsasdsad it's fine #traffic looks like a shit show too #/sigh #anyways lost an entire day of work basically #spent all morning prepping for my afternoon meeting #spent all afternoon at said meeting #now i just want to bail but i should at least address all the emails i missed #my mood is *wavy hands* bc i really did not need to be at that meeting all afternoon only half of it was relevant to me #and now i'm stuck leaving work at the worst time #asdfasdsd ok emails!

[lovedazai]

WORST BEHAVIOR . . . dazai gets turned on watching you fight and just can’t help himself.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, possessive behavior, physical fighting, dazai is a little pervy, one use of ‘good girl’, semi-public & unprotected sex, choking (m!receiving), 2.5k w.c…mdni !!

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i know i’ve been promising this one for a while :< thank you for being patient with me !!

dazai already knows you indulge him; you let him get away with more than anyone else ever would. even outside of work, when he’s stripped of the authority that comes from being the youngest port mafia executive, the unspoken next in line for the throne of yokohama’s underworld, you always give into his whines of five more minutes or just one more kiss, i swear.

if you asked him, it was your own fault that he liked you so much; you were addicting. if the port mafia was a black hole where all light escaped, you were a twinkling star, falling from the sky right into dazai’s blood-soaked hands, and he loves you more than he ever thought he could. you weren’t quite an executive yet, but you were good at what you didー fighting.

there were only a few things in his meaningless life that made him less than bored: drinking with odasaku after work, harassing chuuya to tears, and watching you train, or better yet, getting to see you on a mission. his favorite part was that you always looked so, so hot while you were doing it.

he tries to act surprised when you’re both sent to take care of some low-level group, threatening to leak information that they definitely didn’t have. he didn’t really have to come with you on this assignment, it was below his level as an executive, after all, but he went through all of the trouble of leaking the address to one of the mafia’s “hideouts”, ensuring they’d show up at the dingy warehouse. it looms before the two of you, weathered from the salty air of the port, glass windows splintered and broken.

his coat flutters behind him with every giddy step, happily following after you and your little black skirt; maybe if he was lucky enough, he’d get a peek beneath it.

“are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be right now?” you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching your hand out for him and intertwining your fingers loosely.

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.” he swings your arms between the two of you loosely. you only drop his hand to pull the rusty door open, greeted by three men, all expectantly waiting for you.

“my, my,” he whispers against the curve of your ear. “looks like we’ve been caught.”

“what do we have here? a little girl…” one of the men grins, looking at you in a way that made dazai want to kill him himself. the way his eyes drag up your body stirs an instinct to pull you behind him. “…and her guard dog?”

of course, he’d never put you in any real danger. this group was pathetic, and even at three to one, they didn’t stand a chance against you. dazai can predict all of their moves flawlessly anyway, and you have a implicit understanding that he never gives you more than he knows you can handle. his gun remains heavy against his side, always within his reachー just in case.

his fingers instinctively twitch towards the grip as one of the men reaches to grab you, but you don’t let him, seizing him by the forearm, leg sweeping him from behind and tossing him onto the ground. he falls to the concrete with a groan, looking up at you with a dazed scowl. the heel of your foot connects with his jaw before he can make another move, and he falls still against the ground.

one of the other men comes from the side, but you’re still too quick, catching him out of the corner of your eye and dodging with ease. you hit him hard enough for him to stumble, and you take the opportunity to grab him by the throat, knocking him backward. dazai’s eyes widen, the hair rising against the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck; he was almost jealous. the man chokes as you slam his back against the wall hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his body to crumple to the ground.

there’s only one man left, and your lip splits when his fist connects with your face. dazai’s eyes narrow, and the man’s glaze over in frustration as you recover quick enough to dodge his next hit, crouching low. you curl your leg around his waist from behind, pulling him down to the ground by the back of his shirt until he’s pinned beneath you.

you’re quick to get up, and when you’re far enough away for dazai’s comfort, he aims his gun and fires once, twice, then again before the man falls still.

the only thing heavier than dazai’s presence is his gaze, and you feel it prickle against your skin like the sharp edge of a knife from where he’s still standing in the doorway. when you meet his eyes, they’re red and glowing, and locked onto you.

he walks towards you, only the heavy sound of his shoes against the cement and your quiet breaths filling the warehouse. you swipe your thumb across your lip, breaking his gaze to look at the blood smeared into the crevices of your fingertip before dazai grabs your chin, tilting it upward. his tongue is warm as it traces along the cut before he presses it past your lips. your noise of surprise is muffled as he kisses you, the taste of your own blood permeating your mouth.

he walks you backward until the back of your heels hit the edge of the cold, concrete wall. his mouth never leaves yours, tracing the roof of your mouth and the edge of your teeth as if he doesn’t already have every part of you committed to memory. his cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, poking against your thigh as he presses himself flush against you.

“dazai,” you try to warn, but it isn’t very convincing, breathed out like a hymn; god, his name has never sounded so sweet. he sings your name back with a smile, groping you through your shirt with one hand as the other unbuckles his belt. he slides his fingers down your stomach until he pulls your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your waistband, flipping the hem of your skirt upward to expose those cute little panties. “we’re still…we’re here. in a dirty warehouse.”

“what’s wrong? there’s no one else around. you made sure of that, didn’t you?” he cups your chin between his fingers again and turns your head towards the enemies, bloodied and unconscious, chests heaving shallowly. he presses a kiss to your jaw, trailing up until his lips rest against the curve of your ear. “did you already forget? when their bloodstains haven’t even set into your clothes yet? i didn’t know you could be so cold.”

he unbuttons your shirt with the flick of his thumb, just enough to expose the curve of your tits, sitting oh so prettily in your bra. he skims his fingers against your panties, stroking the soft fabric where your most sensitive spot is covered. he pulls them aside, giggling against your ear when you’re already wet as he slips his middle and pointer fingers inside of you. your frown falters as he curls them with expert precision, eyelids fluttering in bliss as something achingly sweet ignites in your stomach.

“you know what i was thinking while i was watching you?” he drops his voice low, watching the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he finds your clit, grinding the heel of his palm against it in pressured circles. “‘i wonder how it’d feel for her to choke me like that…to wrap these pretty little fingers around my neck and squeeze’.”

the lingering adrenaline of a fight and dazai’s body pressed so close to yours makes you feel dizzy. you part your lips to reply, but his hand is back on your jaw before you can respond, brushing his mouth over yours teasingly.

“do you have any idea what you do to me?” the pad of his thumb is cold against your warm cheek. he strokes himself with the slick collected on his fingers, pressing into you with the tip of his cock. his bangs fall over his eyes as he hangs his head and watches you stretch around the shape of him, disappearing inside your warm cunt inch by inch.

your nails dig into his arms, feeling his lithe muscles tense through the expensive fabric of his coat. he pries your hands off, fingers wrapping around your wrists as he pins them against the wall, holding them in place with one hand. his grin bites against your neck as you throw your head back and arch your hips instinctively.

“my good girl,” he breathes, sucking the skin beneath your ear between his teeth, soothing it with a kiss when you whine. “my sweet, perfect girl.”

“mhm,” you exhale, your own breath getting caught in your throat. your back is pressed against the cool cement behind you, with dazai’s firm chest flush against your front. the broken window above you pools sunlight over your half-dressed bodies. “yours.”

you feel his uneven breathing against your skin as he presses his lips against your jaw. his cock rubs against you deliciously, velvet walls fluttering and clinging to him each time he pulls his hips back. it’s so easy to melt into him like this, with the security of his hands against your skin, his soft hair tickling your neck, and his cock filling you perfectly, like you were made for him to take.

he lifts your leg, fingers squeezing the plush of your thigh and supporting your weight. he thrusts inside you at a new angle, hitting the slightest bit deeper, but it’s just enough to make you gasp as your belly flutters and your knees nearly buckle beneath his palm as he holds you up. your hands clench around nothing, nails digging into your palms in a desperate need to hold onto something.

“the way you threw that man and pinned him to the ground,” he whispers. “would you do that to me?”

“no,” you’re breathless, words lost on you as your mind clouds over with pleasure. his hips grind against yours, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of you as your eyes roll backward. “i don’tー i’d never hurt you.”

“but i’d let you,” he rasps. “you could do whatever you want to me.”

he lets go of your wrists, and you bend your leg around his waist, trying to press him even deeper. you balance on your tip toes as he thrusts into you harshly, curling your arms around his shoulders, as if his cock nestled inside you wasn’t close enough; it was never enough when it came to dazai.

“fuck,” your voice is breathy and broken, and it echoes throughout the gutted warehouse. the heat building in your stomach is already overwhelming, rushing to your head until you feel drunk on it. your muscles are taut, toes curled as you feel him throb inside you, his hips stuttering. “osamu.”

his grip on you tightens, and he whines; it’s just barely audible, and you would’ve missed it if he wasn’t right next to your ear. your eyes are hazy, half open as you look at him through your lashes as he watches the way your tits bounce against the fabric of your bra in time with his movements.

your hand trembles as you lift it, closing your fingers loosely around his neck and pulling his gaze back to yours. you can’t help but grin, lips curving up into a drunken smile as you watch his cheeks flush a pretty pink and his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. dazai rarely expresses his emotions so openly, and you commit it to memory as best you can through the fuzzy feelings of bliss blurring the edges of your mind. he lets out the prettiest noise, something between a moan and a cry vibrating against your palm, his cock throbbing inside you as you squeeze his bandaged neck.

his thrusts grow sporadic, breathy moans growing in volume. his nails dig into your hips, and you rub your clit desperately, quivering in his grip as you feel him stall and cum, warm and deep inside you.

everything fades to static as the sweetness in your belly burns brighter and brighter until it finally explodes into white, hot, sparkling pieces that pierce your vision. dazai pants and hangs his head, but his eyes snap to yours as you mumble something close to “cummingー”, always so desperate to take in the pretty way you fall apart for him, because of him.

he whimpers when you draw your hand from his throat to his face, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. you cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb against the tape holding his small patch of gauze in place as you breathe in one another.

your legs ache, tensed muscles finally relaxing as you lower your foot back to the ground unsteadily. your head falls against the wall with a final sigh, chest heaving. dazai is beaming at you when you peek your eyes open after a few moments, looking irritatingly adorable with his messy hair and crooked tie.

“i can’t believe we did that here,” you glance towards the pieces of shattered glass that litter the ground.

“you loved it,” he smiles, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “you love me〜”

he pulls out of you carefully, snapping your underwear back into place. you grip his tie, wrapping it around your hand and pulling him in to press your mouth to his before straightening it and sliding the knot back into place.

he pouts as he watches you start to button your shirt back up, squeezing your waist softly.

“can’t you leave some open?”

your glare is weak, and he meets it with a smile. he slides his coat off his shoulders, draping it over your own to hide your wrinkled clothes.

“i’ll call a car to get us,” he hums, slipping his hand into your own as he guides you outside the warehouse. “i’ll even give you the rest of the day off for a good performance!”

you rest your head on his shoulder, sleepy and sated. the breeze is cool on your warm skin, carrying the scent of the sea as it gently brushes through your hair.

“you know,” he starts, typing away at his phone, still as happy as ever. “you still owe me lunch from losing that bet last week.”

he has another tease on the tip of his tongue, but he falters when he sees the red splotch of blood staining your pouted lips. he slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards him. he frowns at the cut, visible eye narrowing as he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth.

you wrap your hand around his wrist loosely, pulling it back to press your lips to his palmー i’m okay. he sees one of the mafia’s black cars pulling in from the corner of his eye, and presses a lingering kiss to your foreheadー i know. he pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter around your shoulders before he slips his hand back into yours, and when he walks you to the car, his coat flutters behind you.

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖ #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ʚ shhh ɞ