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fyorina · 25 days

Text

ᡣ𐭩 ICARION

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere.

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building.

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting.

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you.

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry.

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself.

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt.

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady.

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?”

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard.

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade.

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him.

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white.

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe.

He thinks he might throw up.

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak.

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity.

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai.

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below.

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this.

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly.

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?”

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to.

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved.

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him.

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you?

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful.

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up.

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you.

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him.

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving.

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him.

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again.

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to.

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him.

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care.

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him.

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him.

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side.

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again.

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?”

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do.

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention.

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with:

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something.

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you.

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips.

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible.

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time.

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock.

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you.

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it.

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away.

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “‘d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins.

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible.

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it.

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this.

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge.

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you.

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again.

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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bjornswoman · 5 months

Text

Foe's regret I

Author's note: Hello there! Here comes this fic you chose to come. At this part I have to say that one more part has left to come from this series. Thank you for supporting me. I wasn't planning on delivering this today. I had it in store for Christmas as a gift to you all, but I couldn't keep myself from posting it, so here it is. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, violence, slight romance.

Summary: Your life is about to change again, probably this time things will get better... or not.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of murder (strangulation), strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish | Enemy's cruelty | Rival's touch |

Days and nights had past but everything felt the safe inside your prison. Only this time you weren't only miserable and hopeless, but also betrayed and filthy after that disastrous of a night.

You wanted to run away from Kattegat – from Ubbe. But you knew that this wasn't even an option – not after what had happened the previous time. You wouldn't even dare to lay a foot outside the Hall without someone on your tail.

However, that wasn't the only reason behind this. Your son had a huge impact on your decision. Even if you ever found the opportunity to leave this place for good, Ragnar would hate you for taking him away from his father. A father who was Ubbe Ragnarsson – a magnificent warrior, descendant of Odin himself. The child was his first-born – his heir – you had no right to take him away from him.

On the other hand, you couldn't leave on your own. You couldn't stay away from your son – your heart wouldn't bear not to see him for a day let alone a whole life. The only meaningful thing you had in this life was your son – without him you were dead.

The thundering sound of a goblet falling startled you and forced you out of your thoughts into the atrocious reality. Around you men and women were laughing and drinking, fighting and eating, talking and dancing. It was another feast that you had to pretend to be the perfect wife. False smiles and identical words and promises were all you could see behind the masks of all those pretenders that were surrounding the Hall.

"You don't seem to enjoy yourself." Drunken, slightly hoarse voice spoke from the seat next to yours. It was a familiar one though it didn't belong to your husband – it belonged to his younger brother.

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Hvitserk." You answered and you glanced at the drunk man. Then your eyes went back at the crowd.

You weren't in mood of starting any conversation – even with Hvitserk. You wanted to stay on your seat drinking ale from your goblet until the night was off – and you prayed for it to end soon enough because you couldn't stand seeing her swinging around the Hall giggling with the guests full of your husband's child. And your husband's eyes were only on her, the love of his life – now you knew damn well that he was lying he hated you because he couldn't be with her and you were hating him more than before. More than ever.

"Well, I won't push you to talk if you don't want to, but you should know that if you ever need to spill your guts and let of steam, I'll be here." Those were the realest words you had ever heard coming from someone else – from someone who was too drunk to reconsider the words coming out of his mouth. And yet it didn't seem this way, it seemed like Hvitserk meant each one of them.

You turned your gaze on him properly this time. Maybe he was right you should speak to someone – you should take this weigh off your shoulders, but you knew that Hvitserk couldn't be the one. He was Ubbe's brother and in love with Margrethe. Torvi couldn't be that person either, she was his brother's wife – practically his family.

That resulted to you having no one for once more. You were utterly alone, but you were used to it by now.

"You know that we can't really talk, don't you?" You asked him in low tone of voice and he turned his gaze on you. Green eyes gazing right inside your shuttered soul.

Hvitserk shook his head and chuckled. You looked at him frowning in curiosity.

"Ahh, yes. I almost forgot for a moment that you are more like a bird imprisoned in a golden cage than my brother's wife." You almost smiled at the comparison he managed to make.

"I was never the second as for the first I start to think that the only thing missing is the wings." You tried to play along, but the melancholy didn't let you be as playful as Hvitserk was when he pointed out the similarity between you and a caged bird.

Hvitserk left the goblet on the table and sat properly on his seat, his eyes were only on your figure along with his attention. It was like he was totally sober for a moment.

"You mean he broke your wings the only time you dared to walk out of that cage?"

"Something like that." You smiled sadly, recalling which moment he was talking about.

"And yet you love him. Still."

You frowned. You opened your mouth to protest – to accuse him of lying, to give him one by one all the atrocious reasons that his remark couldn't be true. You almost wanted to rip the collar of your dress and show him the scars of his brother's large hands on your neck of all the time he almost strangled you. But most of all you wanted to yell at him because he dared to say such an awful and offensive thing.

"You don't need to persuade me of the opposite." He continued and grabbed his own goblet taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't know the reason behind all this horrible situation you have to live in – well, in fact, I know it – but I wish things were different between you and him. You are a good woman – you deserve a lot of things and surely this torment isn't one of them. He is a good man as well, but he is stubborn and I can say that he loves you back."

You didn't want to hear anymore. You didn't know which your reaction should be. Not because you were shocked or believed any of his words. You knew that Ubbe didn't love you – he hated you. He had even told you that he loved her that night.

Before Hvitserk could even start again talking about Ubbe's hypothetical love about you, you dumped your own goblet on the table in front of you and left your seat.

"Don't say anything else. Ubbe himself told me that he loves her." You said quickly and stormed in your chamber before Hvitserk could answer you.

You didn't need to hear anything else about Ubbe or Margrethe. In fact, you didn't even want to see them for the rest of the evening. You needed a night away from all this despair – you deserved it after everything you had been through lately.

However, your silence didn't last long because Ubbe stormed in the room more frustrated than you did a few minutes ago.

"What do you want?" You asked him angrily because of his sudden appearance in there.

"Are you out of your mind?" He yelled and kicked the table flipping it over, throwing all the decorations on the floor.

"No, you are out of your mind!" You were yelling too now. You couldn't believe at the audacity of that person. All he did was coming in and yelling at you over and over and over again. It was all a circle happening again and again the same thing and you were tired of re-living the same scene every day.

"I am not the one who caused a whole scene in front of so many people and left! What do you think you are doing?"

"Are you serious? I caused a scene? I was talking with Hvitserk! Just a civilised talking! Something you can't do apparently because all you do is yelling!" You yelled back. All you asked was for a simple night. A silent one which meant away from him and his madness. He was mad – there wasn't any other excuse behind all of his behaviour. However, you couldn't find a proper reason he was in such a state. You hadn't caused any scene in there.

"Don't bring this on me, woman!" He was very angry – you had seen him this way multiple times before and you knew what was to follow. His hands were running through his braids uncontrollably and you couldn't understand the reason he was so mad. "You are the one who humiliated me and my family!" His finger pointed out on you and you scoffed – you couldn't help it – and it enraged him more.

Within a couple of seconds one of his hands was on your throat pressing it until you had no breath in your lugs. Nothing new – just some bruises and marks that you had to hide under your clothing. Ubbe pushed you back on the wall – your back hit so hard that all the inches of your body were shaken.

"You humiliate my name and you have to get punished for it!" He growled and you looked at him as angrily as he eyed you. You weren't going to lose this time – not again. And most importantly you couldn't let him know that you were afraid. He couldn't know.

"What are you going to do that you haven't done yet? What, huh?" You challenged him, looking him in the eyes. You wouldn't back down.

A sardonic smirk formed on his face when he heard your words and his face came closer to yours. You weren't used to be this close to him. Your faces were mere inches apart and without your approval your eyes stared on his masculine features.

"I am going to take Ragnar away from you. You are going to see him again when you will act properly." His tone was normal again, but his nerves weren't. Your eyes widened and you tried to do something you hated yourself for the same moment you did it. You raised your hand and tried to hit him – to slap him on the cheek – but his hand stopped you.

After that, both of his hands were gripping you firmly and this time maybe he would make his dream coming true – he was going to strangle you to death and as he said once; nobody would suspect him.

Your eyes widened again, but this time not because of the fact that he was going to kill you this time, but because you were going to hit him. You had never done that before – never. You had thought about it plenty of times, but never did it.

You closed your eyes waiting for your death and tears rolled from your eyes – tears because you tried to hit him. He had done horrible things, but you – you weren't this beast. Images of your son were flashing before your eyes at you last moments.

But you didn't die at the end of day, because the door opened and Hvitserk along with Sigurd and Bjorn forced Ubbe away from you. They tried to help you when Ubbe was forced away from you, but you stopped them you fell on the floor coughing, trying to breathe normally again.

Bjorn and Sigurd were talking to him as Hvitserk was standing next to you trying to make sure whether you were fine or not.

"He wasn't.... going to kill me." You managed to say with clear difficulty in breathing. All pairs of eyes were following you while you were struggling to stand up.

"It didn't seem this way to me." Bjorn pointed out and you shook your head trying to convince him the thing around.

"I wouldn't kill her." Ubbe spoke finally, his burning blue eyes were only on you as your own eyes were on him. "Now leave us for a moment. We will be alright." He told them and they looked at disbelief before they walked to the door.

"We will be right outside, don't even think about it." Hvitserk warned his brother before all of them were out of the door and stayed just the two of you in the room.

Ubbe didn't try to come close to you, he stayed at his former position and neither of you talked. The atmosphere was suffocating inside the room.

"You were very lucky this time, but next time you will raise your hand on me you won't be that lucky." He warned you in much calmer tone of voice.

It was a threat – another threat.

You hated yourself for trying to hit him. He had never done it, but had done other equally awful things. You wanted to tell how sorry you felt and ask for forgiveness and you would if it was for another person. You would never leave your guard down for him again. You knew better than falling for his tricks again.

"We will see about that." You couldn't keep your mouth from saying it.

"Don't tempt me to finish what I started." Ubbe growled before he was out of the door.

"I'm sorry." You muttered when he was out of the chamber and touched your hurting neck. Tears started streaming from your eyes at the memory of you raising your hand on Ubbe.

After some hours, you un-braided your hair and put on your night-gown ready to lay on your bed, after your son was asleep. You blew out the candles and laid on your bed closing your eyes. But you didn't get to sleep, because the wooden door opened and closed. You kept your eyes shut, but your hand moved under your pillow and wrapped around your dagger's handle.

When you felt the mattress next to you moving, you turned around and pointed the dagger at the man's neck. You could recognise him under the midnight light coming from your window. You knew this person well – fortunately.

"I must confess that I wasn't expecting this." He whispered, but you didn't take the dagger away from his neck. For the first time ever, Ubbe Ragnarsson was under your mercy. That meant that you could do to him anything you liked. This was getting entertaining.

"Why are you here anyway? You should be with your wife." You reminded both of you and moved the dagger closer to the flesh of his throat.

"In case you forgot you are my wife."

"I meant your other wife."

Ubbe didn't seem to want to answer your question probably he – himself – didn't know the reason he was on your bed.

"You know that I could take this little knife of yours easily." He said and touched the tip of your blade. You smirked hoping that he couldn't see it in the dark.

"Yes, but you haven't taken it yet." You heard him chuckling and you smiled.

"No, I haven't." His voice was coming from somewhere closer than you remembered. The dagger was still pressed on his neck, but it seemed as he didn't care at all about its existence – he wasn't afraid of you and that was annoying you even more than his arrogancy.

"I could kill you and nobody could prove it was me." You recollected his own words and used them to upset it, but it had quite different effect than the one you wanted.

As an answer his hand was placed on top of yours – on top of the hand which was holding the dagger on his throat. He guided the blade closer to his flesh and you watched him thrilled as he was pressing his own skin with the sharp knife.

"Do it. Kill me. Nobody deserves to kill me more than you do. If I am to die soon, I'd prefer to be you the one holding the blade soaking in my blood. So, don't hesitate, do it – slice my neck." The smell of blood reached your nostrils and you knew that it came out of him. He had been cut by the blade, but it hadn't been deep enough to be fatal.

You pulled the knife away from Ubbe and dropped it on the stony floor. Your hands were working hard in the darkness trying to reach for his wound. You knew that he was bleeding when your hands me the something liquid streaming – his blood.

You hoped desperately that he couldn't see your face. He couldn't see how upset and worried you were for him. You didn't want him to suppose that you cared – you didn't care. You didn't care at all.

And yet you couldn't stop yourself from lighting the candles again and searching for a cloth to treat him. When you found what you were looking for, you went back to bed. You sat next to his lying form and placed the cloth in the bowl of water. Then, you placed the wet cloth on his wound and he didn't react – he didn't even flinch.

His blue eyes were focused on you trying to stop the blood streaming.

"I thought you would want to get rid of me by now." Ubbe finally spoke and you dared to glance at him for a passing moment. You thought to yourself. You thought that it would be better if he was dead. However, you couldn't picture his death. You were afraid that if you even tried, it would happen. It should have been what all you were waiting for, but it wasn't.

"I have told you, Ubbe, I've never wanted you dead." Your eyes were back on the cut on his throat. It wasn't a fatal wound and it wasn't big enough, but still you couldn't let him bleeding. Not even for some minutes. "Not even after everything that we've been through." You confessed in a soft tone of voice. In such way that you didn't want him to know about that last part. But, now, he knew.

"And yet I would kill you if I had the chance." This was a confess and it made you smile. It wasn't like you weren't afraid that he wasn't going to do it, you were sure that earlier he would have killed you if his brothers hadn't stormed in the room.

Ubbe could kill you easily, but this didn't mean that you could do this to him as well. He didn't care whether your son would grow up having a mother or not, as you did. But this didn't make you change your mind when it should have had. If you were to walk away one day, you would do this and he would be alive. Although, if that ever happened, he wouldn't let you go far enough – he would find you anywhere.

"You have the chance now." You reminded him that you were alone and your gaze met his under the slight light of the candles. You left the cloth in the bowl and placed it on the table close to your bed.

"I can't kill you right now." Ubbe said and stood up from your bed to meet you.

"Why not?"

You hated the way your eyes were magnetised on his imposing figure. It reminded you how much more powerless you were comparing to him. You wanted to force your eyes away, but you couldn't bring yourself to.

Ubbe shook his head trying to fight back a smirk which was forming on his face.

"It feels like you are provoking me into killing you sometimes. You are so annoying and careless and stubborn and I can't keep myself."

His footsteps became heavier when he almost reached you. You didn't make any attempt to get away from him – you stayed on your former position, staring at him.

"From killing me?"

A low chuckle – one so dark that got goosebumps – came out of his mouth and he took a step closer to you. Again, you didn't try to escape which seemed a terrible idea.

You knew that you were asking too many questions that could get you in danger. This man was so unpredictable that you weren't sure when he would snap out of nowhere and try to strangle you again – or this time he wouldn't use his hands.

"Among other things." These words came out darker than it probably meant.

It wasn't long before he was in front of you and his hands were reaching for your skin. They rested on your neck, but not like previously. He wasn't wrapping his hands firmly around you – he was touching you. Just touching. Nothing more – only pure touching. And yet, only pure it wasn't. Nothing was pure between Ubbe and yourself.

His touch was intoxicating and you felt like you needed more of it. You needed this touch in every inch of your body. It was forbidden – Ubbe was forbidden. And that was the exact reason you had to stop this. Because if you didn't, it would ruin you again and this time it would be worse than any other.

You took some steps back. He didn't try to reach you again. Ubbe knew himself that this was a big mistake and it shouldn't happen again.

"Margrethe probably needs you." You told him bitterly. You couldn't even pronounce her name without feeling this weird feeling which had the exact taste with poison. "She's close to give birth to your child. You should be there for them both."

Ubbe knew that you were speaking the truth – he should have been with his wife – and yet he was in your chambers standing opposite you, feeling attracted to this room – feeling attracted to you.

"You didn't need me though."

It surprised you to hear him saying that. However, it was another truth that couldn't go by unnoticed or stay hidden between you two. You didn't lie to each other because you didn't care about the opinion the other person would form. At least that was what it was supposed to be like.

Indeed almost each month of your pregnancy you were alone, but you liked it. You didn't want Ubbe around – you hated the idea that he would eventually be around when this child would be born.

"But she does." You managed to mutter. You were trying to bring back those feelings. Those you had for him during your pregnancy – when he had been on another raiding and you hadn't seen him for plenty of months.

When you could actually hate him because you didn't have to see him every single day.

"Once you had told me that your feelings for me weren't hateful when I was away." Ubbe's voice held a different tone. One you confessed coming out of his mouth few times.

Yes, you could recall that conversation. It was the one he told you that he was thinking about you at the battlefield, but it was too late to believe in his words, because you had already found out about the slave girl and her child. It was one of the worst days of your life – how somebody could forget the day their life took the downfall.

Although, that conversation was the last thing you wanted to remember after all this threats and the tears you shed. And yet it was still stuck in your mind like it was yesterday.

"I was trying to give in to the feelings I felt for you. The way I had you in my mind when I was at the battlefield. Don't ask me how those feelings were formed — I have no idea. I was thinking of you, knowing that you were praying for me not to return. Those feelings couldn't be replaced by any fight we had. At the end of the day, all that stayed in my mind was one of your rare smiles and the way you care for our son."

Ubbe had said.

"I have never prayed for you to die on the battlefield. I did quite the opposite in fact and it felt strange in my heart. I hated — I told my self to hate you — I was telling myself all the things I hated in you so I could hate you. I felt strange for you — my heart was beating in a strange way as much as I tried to avoid it, it exists, still."

That was your reply.

Your eyes were fixed on his gaze. Ubbe wasn't paying attention in anything else in the room but you. It felt like nothing else existed except the two of you. If it was under different circumstances, you would feel special and even loved – only if it was even possible to acknowledge how it felt to be loved by someone.

His tone was a soft and kind of regretful one. But it had never lasted long. This time time it wasn't due to him mood swings but due to his brother storming in the room, out of breath. Hvitserk cut him off when it was obvious that he was about to say something – or more accurately – confess something.

When you saw the man standing next to the door, you let a long breath – one you weren't aware that you were holding all this time – to leave.

"Margrethe is in labour!" Hvitserk exclaimed and everything changed inside you. It felt like the reality was coming back and your delightful dream was over. The object of your misery was back there – visible –standing in your way.

Your husband's eyes met yours. Regret – they yelled. But you couldn't understand which was the thing he had regretted for.

For cheating?

For impregnating her?

For marrying her?

For treating you like garbage?

For forcing you to stay in his side?

For the misery he put you into?

Too many reasons and they weren't all of them. There must have been something you couldn't recall. And yet, you didn't care. You couldn't even feel pity for your wasted life anymore. In fact, you couldn't anything – you were empty.

"She's asking for you brother." Hvitserk spoke again this time softer. His eyes were moving from Ubbe to you and the opposite, because no one of you had said a word.

"Yes." Was the only thing Ubbe managed to say and dragged his brother outside of the room. "You should be there too. Make yourself proper and come." Your husband was back. That was the Ubbe you knew. Your tyrant.

You had no tears left to shed. You were just empty as you were putting on your dress.

You were empty when you walked through her chambers and had to confess her labour.

You were empty even when the child was out. Boy – the midwife had announced happily. And she brought it in your hands and you weren't empty anymore. He was crying his guts out – like your own. His brown eyes were big and pure and you lost yourself inside them so mush that you almost didn't noticed. Although when you actually show them, they didn't mean anything – a child was brought in the world and it was the biggest blessing Frigg could give to a woman.

"Give him to me!" Margrethe's voice was the one who heard through the silent room, but you didn't move to place her son on her lap.

"The prince should hold him, my lady." The midwife reasoned her, but she didn't stop yelling for her son.

Even if she wanted, she couldn't hide away the child from Ubbe. Sooner or later, he would see him. You couldn't interfere or even felt pity. Nobody pitied you when you cried. Nobody cared for you feelings.

You placed the boy on her lap. Without sparing a look at her – the young man was all you cared about. Which could possibly be his fate. Why did it have to be this difficult for a baby just born. Why should a child carry its parent's burdens.

Your footsteps were vast as you were exiting that suffocating room.

"Son." You muttered when you met the curious eyes of the people who were supposed to be your family. Your eyes dared to wander only on Ubbe's form. You were supposed to bring him his son on your hands and it would probably have happened this way is things had been different.

Ubbe frowned when he spotted your unclear expression. Even you weren't empty enough to be idle after this. You almost felt sympathy for him, forgetting about all the horrible things you had been through because of his cruelty.

If you were as cruel as Ubbe was on you, you would even say that all this was a payback for all his doing. But you didn't feel like it, not when in the middle of this situation stood a new-born boy. One that would probably be the object to everyone's ire.

Ubbe didn't wait for a second word or asked anything else, he just burst into the room without warning. You didn't dare to move or speak another word. After all, it wasn't about you anymore.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka, @gothicwidowsworld, @savagemickey03, @brianna-merlim, @shitsandgiggles1

#vikings ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe fanfiction #vikings au #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fic

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cre8inghavoc · 2 months

Text

What are friends for?

PT. 8

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 4154

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

“Y/n?”

You become acutely aware of the situation: his hand on your waist, yours resting on his chest. If anyone stumbled upon this scene, they'd undoubtedly mistake you for a couple practically about to kiss. Stepping back, you clear your throat, trying to shake off the embarrassment that flushes your cheeks. Thankfully, he can't see your face, so you're spared from the embarrassment of him witnessing your cheeks turn bright red.

Despite the inner voice telling you otherwise, you can't help but feel drawn to gaze at him, captivated by his undeniable charm. Dressed in black sweatpants and a snug shirt that highlights his physique, he looks like he just walked out of the gym — with tousled hair, toned arms, and abs peeking through the fabric. And don’t even get me started on his arms and how his veins pop out- What the fuck y/n! Snap out of it! What am I even thinking? I can't let myself indulge in these feelings anymore. He's made it crystal clear he's not interested. It's time to move on.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, a hint of confusion in his tone.

"I go here... Why, are you following me?" you retort, mirroring his confusion.

"How could I be following you if you're the one who ran into me? You stalking me?" He teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What? No! Don't flatter yourself," you reply, your tone sharper than intended. His joke strikes a nerve, perhaps because you're still upset and disappointed about him not showing up at the park. It feels like a sign that whatever you two had is now over, yet here he is, acting as if nothing happened.

"Well, I go here too and I've never seen you around, so..." he counters.

"Whatever, Megumi, I'm gonna be late for class, so can you please piss off," you reply, frustration evident in your tone. You don't want to be mean to him, but anger seems to be consuming you. You walk past him, only for him to turn around and gently grab your wrist.

"Y/n, wait..." he says, concern lacing his voice.

"What do you want?" you retort sharply.

"Why are you being like that?"

"Like what?" You take offense to his question. What does he mean by "why am I being like that"?

"I don't know... cold? upset? I didn't mean to offend you if I did... I just didn't realize you went here..." he explains, his tone softening.

"If you must know, I just transferred here from my other school. Now, can I go back to finding my class?" you say, pulling your hand away and continuing to walk.

"Wait!" he says, grabbing your wrist again. "What room number is it? I can help you."

"Megumi, can you please just stop," you say, a little annoyed.

"Stop what?" he says, confused.

"This," you reply.

"This what? I don't get it..."

"Stop trying to pretend like you care or be nice to me because you feel bad."

"Pretend? Feed bad? What the hell are you talking about?"

"See, you're doing it right now. You made it quite clear you want nothing to do with me, so just leave me alone, okay?" Your tone is angrier than before.

"Y/n, no—“

"She said leave her alone, bro." A tall man with a deep voice appears, cutting Megumi off. He's probably just as tall as Megumi, but a little more buff. Megumi lets go of your wrist, and you back up a little, watching the two boys walk towards each other, staring one another down. You stare at Megumi, knowing his intention but hoping he doesn't do anything stupid. As you glance at the other man, he seems somewhat familiar... You examine his face, and just based on the way they're both looking at each other, it's obvious what's about to go down.

"Guys, it's okay, please—” you begin, attempting to separate them before they escalate the situation further.

"Get behind me," Megumi interrupts, his hand gently pushing you back and you comply, even though you're not sure why you're still listening to him.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" He spits back.

"Watch who you talk to," Megumi smirks.

"Guys, please... I said it's okay, can you two please stop!" you plead desperately.

Their voices start to draw attention as this unfolds in front of a few classrooms, with students peeking out from the doorways. Among them is Todo, one of Itadori’s best friends who also happens to be friends with Yuta and Toge. He quickly realizes what's happening and storms out of his class to help stop the situation before the teachers intervene.

"Y/N?" Todo shouts out, rushing towards you.

"Todo?" You look at him as he catches up to where you're standing.

"What the hell is going on?" Todo asks you, clearly perplexed.

"Y/n?" the other man says with confusion and shock, peeking behind Megumi's shoulder to see you. Stepping off to the side from behind Megumi, you stare at him in confusion.

Todo's attention is suddenly drawn to the familiar voice, and he looks at the person in front of Megumi.

The way he said your name feels incredibly familiar, as if you've heard this person's voice before. He just seems so familiar... with his low, deep voice, long black hair, heavy eyebags, and low eyes. And that line tattoo on the bridge of his nose down to the middle of his cheek.

"Choso?" Todo looks at him, baffled, and Choso returns the look with a smile.

"C-Choso?" you question, walking up to him.

"Long time no see, huh?" he says, smiling at you. You smile back and rush in for a hug, which he returns, resting his chin on your head.

As Megumi and Todo stand there, perplexed by the unexpected reunion between you and Choso, you're too engrossed in catching up with Choso to notice the tension building around you. If you were to glance at Megumi now, you'd see the anger in his eyes, the way he's glaring at Choso with increasing intensity. It's evident that he despises the way Choso is holding you close, resting his chin on your head. Perhaps it's out of jealousy, but you're too focused on Choso to realize Megumi's "death" glare.

Meanwhile, Choso takes a step back, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he gazes at you, then briefly glances up at Megumi. He notices the furrowed eyebrows and the intense glare directed at both of you. With a smirk at Megumi's expression, Choso turns his attention back to you, locking eyes once more.

“You've grown so much, I almost couldn’t recognize you. You look so beautiful.” Choso says looking you up and down.

“Oh.. thanks cho! I could say the same for you… you’ve been working out?” you point out his physique which only makes Choso smirk more.

“Yup, like what you see” He winks at you.

“Omg shut up” you say, rolling your eyes playfully and giggling.

Megumi couldn't bear continue to witness the apparent flirtation between you and Choso any longer. Something inside him boils, and he kicks himself off the wall, striding up to you and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You're aware of what he's doing, and you know you should be angry with him, especially after he didn't show up at the park, leaving you to believe he didn't want you. But when you feel his body pressed against yours and his hand around your waist, you can't help but feel flustered, melting into his touch. Does he actually want you? Was the park situation just a misunderstanding? Is he jealous, or are you just being delusional? Would he be doing this if things were good between you two? God, why does this have to be so difficult and messy... You notice the way Choso and Todo look at you and Megumi, and you can't help but feel embarrassed by the situation.

"What are you doing here?" Todo walks up to Choso, ready to greet him.

"Just passing through the area for a few hours, so I wanted to come by and see old friends," Choso responds.

"Didn't know Y/n went here," Todo says, glancing at you as you're still in Megumi's arms.

"I just transferred; today's actually my first day," you explain.

"How do you two know each other?" Megumi asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

"We were childhood best friends, haven’t seen him in years!" You smile at Choso, and he returns the smile.

Megumi responds with only a hum and a nod before a teacher steps outside and instructs you all to get back to class.

The grip around your waist loosens, then completely disappears as Megumi takes a step back. All you can think about is how you already miss his touch, yearning for more, wishing you could stay in his presence just a little bit longer. But you have to get to your class, and so does everyone else, except Choso, who's heading out anyways. You say your goodbyes to him and hug him one last time, but when you turn back around, Megumi's already gone, leaving you with only Todo.

"Where's Megumi?" you ask, scanning the area.

"Went to class, I guess. What happened, by the way?" Todo inquires.

"I'll be honest, I don't even know... One minute I'm trying to find my class, the next Choso and Megumi practically get into a fight, and for what? No idea. What a great way to start my day, right?!" you respond, feeling stressed.

"Well, I can tell you what it seemed like to me," Todo begins.

"And how's that, Todo?"

"Looked like Megumi was jealous of the way you were close to Choso, and it seemed like Choso realized that and tried to piss him off more."

"Why would Megumi be jealous?!" You ask, thoroughly confused.

"Is it not obvious?" Todo responds, clearly shocked.

"What do you mean?" you press.

"Damn, Y/n, anyone could see it from a mile away."

"The hell does that even mean?" you respond, feeling even more confused.

He facepalms, then starts to walk away.

"Todo! .... Todo!!!" you shout after him, but he just keeps walking.

"TODO!" you call out again, but he slips back into class.

"UGH! Can this day just get any worse?" you mutter to yourself, feeling frustrated.

After a few minutes of searching, you finally found your class, only being five minutes late. The teacher didn't mind at all since he understood how confusing it could be to find classrooms on your first day. He was a pretty cool teacher, very nice and calm. You finished your first two classes and had a two-hour break until your next one, just like your friends. Obviously, you made your schedules similar to theirs so you could all go out for lunch.

You finally met up with your friends, and you all decided to go to a nearby cafe just down the street from the school. It had recently opened up, and you were all excited to try it out. Laughing and talking, you walked there together, and upon stepping inside, you were all amazed by the decor and how beautiful it looked. Choosing a booth to sit in, you all ordered croissants. You opted for a vanilla iced latte, as did Maki. Yuta and Toge couldn't decide between regular lattes, cappuccinos, or iced lattes, so they ended up getting the same thing as you and Maki, and they were not disappointed.

You all sat at the booth, chilling and enjoying your drinks, until you noticed Maki's girlfriend, Nobara, walking up to the counter to order. You waved at her, and she smiled back, coming over to join your group. Maki turned around, noticing your attention on someone, and when she saw Nobara, she got up, happy to see her, and hugged her, then kissed her.

"What are you doing here, baby?" Maki said, pulling Nobara in by her waist and holding her close.

"We just wanted to check out this new cafe!" Nobara replied, looking behind her as Megumi and Itadori walked towards her. However, they both didn't notice your friend group, as they were too distracted arguing with each other about who knows what.

You hadn't noticed Megumi and Itadori coming in; you were too focused on enjoying your food. However, when you finally glanced up and saw Megumi, your face dropped. He looked away from Itadori and locked eyes with you, both of you visibly shocked. Everyone around you couldn't help but notice the tension between you both, their gazes darting back and forth between you.

Little did you know, Nobara and Maki had actually arranged this whole situation. They planned for you to go out to a cafe, and then Nobara would join along with her friends, just to see how you and Megumi would act towards each other. Feeling the awkwardness intensify, you quickly stood up from your seat. Looking back at your group, you both simultaneously said, "Nope, I gotta go." Then, as if on cue, you both looked back at each other and repeated, "No, I'm gonna go." Itadori looked at you both in complete shock.

"What the hell is going on with you two?" he said, clearly confused.

"What do you mean? Nothing is going on!" you say to Itadori, though it's clear you're lying to him.

"Course there isn't," Megumi says with his regular grumpy voice. You glare at him, and he glares back.

"Uh... yeah, sure, totally believable," Itadori says, rolling his eyes.

"Can you just spit it out already?" Maki says, hinting at Megumi to apologize to you for not showing up at the park.

Megumi shifts uncomfortably under Maki's gaze, then lets out a heavy sigh. "Fine. I'm sorry for not showing up on time at the park," he grumbles, still looking somewhat annoyed.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the tension between you two remains palpable. Everyone knows about the park situation, but they also sense that there's more to the tension between you and Megumi. After all, there wouldn't be this level of anger if it were just about the park.

"Cool! Can I leave now?" you ask, looking back at Maki with your arms crossed, clearly not forgiving Megumi.

"No, not until this is resolved," Itadori says firmly.

"Megumi, what type of apology is that?" Maki responds, her tone slightly scolding.

"Do I have to apologize in front of you guys?" Megumi retorts, his frustration evident in his voice.

"Uhm, yeah? How else are we going to even know if you actually are?" Itadori responds, his tone firm. Nobara, Toge, and Yuta watch with amusement, clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama.

"Right," Megumi says, annoyed, pinching his eyebrows together. "Look, Y/n, I didn’t see your message on time. I was out running errands, and my phone was on 'do not disturb.' When I finally saw it, it was already 6:55 pm. I tried calling you a few times, but your phone was off. I did go to the park, but I got there at 7:15, and I guess you had already left by then. I tried calling you again after that, but I guess you blocked me... I'm really sorry I didn’t make it on time. If I had seen your message earlier, I would’ve been there on time. I’m sorry." Megumi's apology sounds genuine.

"Oh..." was all you were able to say. After hearing what Megumi said, you were baffled. Honestly, you didn't expect that response at all. It made you feel... important again. It kind of made you happy to realize that he actually did come to the park. But it seemed like something was still bothering him, because after apologizing, he just sat down beside Itadori and didn’t look at you again. You glanced up at him a few times while you were all out, but he never once looked at you. It felt like he was trying to avoid you, but for what reason? The tension between you two lingered, and it was clear that there was still more to be resolved.

Everyone talked and shared laughs while you were in the cafe, except Megumi, who barely said a word. Apparently, that was normal for him, but you had never seen him like that before. And you, usually the happy person who always talks to everyone, were quieter than normal. Yuta and Toge picked up on it pretty fast, but they figured it was because of the whole situation with Megumi. They weren't wrong though… but they hated seeing this side of you.

It's been two months since you all went to that cafe together, meaning it's been two months of you and Megumi not talking to each other. You'd see each other in the halls from time to time, but it just felt... weird. Like it seems as if he is avoiding you. No, he is avoiding you.

Within those two months, you've gotten super close to Itadori. You found out that the two of you actually have a lot in common, and you'd both hang out a few times a week. Sometimes Yuta and Toge would come to hang out too, while Maki and Nobara are always together. It makes you happy that you're all friends, except the one thing that upsets you is that Megumi isn't there. He isn't talking to you, and every time you're over at their house hanging out with Itadori and Megumi comes home, he just heads straight upstairs and locks his door, completely ignoring your presence. And you don't even know what to do anymore. You don’t understand why he's avoiding you, but it hurts so damn bad.

This time, the sting of rejection cut a little deeper. You, Itadori, and Toge were all hanging out at Itadori's place when Megumi arrived home from his last class. As he entered the house, his gaze swept over the living room where you three were engrossed in video games. Gaining courage, you decided to greet him, but Megumi simply glanced at you all before retreating upstairs to his room, as if you were invisible. It was a small gesture, but it weighed heavily on your heart, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Sensing the tension, Itadori and Toge exchanged a concerned glance before swiftly diverting the conversation.

"I'm starving, you guys wanna grab some pizza?" Itadori's stomach growled audibly, prompting laughter from you and Toge.

"Yeah, I'm down for some pizza too!" Toge chimed in.

"You ordering, Itadori?" you asked.

"Nah, let's go pick it up. I'm too hungry to wait," Itadori replied eagerly.

"Ugh, can I just stay here and wait for you guys to come back? I'm feeling lazy," you grumbled, feeling drained.

"That's cool. Oh, and ask Megumi if he wants anything too," Itadori said, shooting you a pointed look.

"Why me?" you protested, taken aback.

"Because you're the one staying behind!" Itadori replied with a mischievous grin, while Toge chuckled.

"Why can't Toge do it?" you countered.

"Because we're leaving now, and you can let us know when he responds. Bye!" Toge said, already halfway out the door with Itadori.

"Fuck you’ve gotta be kidding me.” you mutter to yourself, as you walk up the familiar staircase. Reaching Megumi's door, you knock, feeling a mix of nerves and frustration bubbling inside.

You hear Megumi open the door from his bathroom and approach. As he opens the door, you see he's holding a towel, ruffling it through his hair. At first, you're looking down, but your gaze slowly moves up, and your face turns bright red as your eyes widen. Holy shit-

He's standing there shirtless, wearing only shorts, with his wet hair indicating he just got out of the shower. Water droplets glisten on his chest, and even though you knew he was in good shape, seeing him actually shirtless makes you feel flustered. You quickly look away, embarrassed for staring for so long.

"Uhm... sorry, I didn’t mean to-I mean, I didn’t know-”

"All good," Megumi cuts you off, his expression nonchalant and his tone cold, which catches you by surprise. Lost in thought, you're interrupted as Megumi asks again, "What’s up? You need something?" He throws his towel over his shoulder and he leans against the door frame.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Itadori and Toge are on their way to get pizza. They were wondering if you wanted any..." you say, feeling a bit awkward.

"Oh, nah, I'm good, thanks," he replies.

"Okay..." You stare at him for a moment, and he notices, prompting him to ask, "Anything else?"

"No..."

"Doesn’t really seem like that..." he observes, noting your lingering presence.

"I just... why are you being like that...?" you ask him, feeling a little sad.

"Like what? I didn’t do anything," he retorts.

"Like cold..."

"What do you mean? I’m always like this," he replies.

"No, you're not. Not to me... I thought we were okay after the apology, but you just kept trying to avoid me... We haven’t talked in two months... Why, Megumi?" you say, your voice tinged with sadness.

"Why don’t you just go talk to Choso?" he suggests.

"What?! Is that what this is about?" you scoff.

"No clue what you’re talking about," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Megumi..." you start, but he hums in response.

"Are you jealous?" you ask, a little surprised, teasing him.

"No, I’m not," he says, his face serious as always.

"Don’t lie to me. You are jealous!"

"What do you want, y/n?" he says, attempting to change the subject, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"I want you to admit it and tell me why you’ve been avoiding me," you say back, crossing your arms.

"What are you trying to get at? There’s nothing to admit," he says tersely.

"So you’re telling me the reason you’ve been avoiding me has nothing to do with Choso," you question him.

"Mhm," he replies, rolling his eyes.

"I just don’t believe you," you tease him further.

"Alright, fine. Yeah, I was jealous. You happy now?" he says angrily, stepping back into his room, about to close the door. But you quickly take a step forward, putting one hand out to keep his door open, and you step into his room, closing the door behind you.

"Why? I don’t understand what there is to be jealous of..." you say, genuinely oblivious to the situation.

"God, Y/N, did you just come here to just fucking argue?" he spits back.

"No, Megumi, I just don’t understand you! I don’t understand why the fuck you’re avoiding me and why the fuck you’re acting like an asshole right now!" you snap back, now angry yourself.

"Don’t you get it?" he retorts.

"Get what? I don’t fucking get shit," you reply, your tone escalating.

"Are you that oblivious?" he challenges.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What are—" you start, but he cuts you off mid-sentence.

"I fucking like you," he confesses, his words leaving you stunned. It's not what you were expecting. You thought he was going to tell you he no longer wanted to be friends, but this... This was definitely better than anything you could’ve imagined.

"What—“ Your mouth drops, speechless at the unexpected revelation.

"I have since the day I took you home from the club..." he adds.

Flooded with so many emotions, you’re unsure of what’s happening, but one thing is clear: you want him. You want him more than ever. You’ve missed his touch, craved it, longed for him. And before you know it, your legs move on their own, as if you have no control over your body. Without hesitation, you rush to him and lean in, kissing him desperately. One hand finds its place on his cheek as you press your lips against his, to which he responds with a groan. At first, he’s stiff, clearly not expecting your bold move, but then he starts to kiss you back with hunger, and you reciprocate, matching his intensity.

Suddenly, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you closer and pressing you against the wall behind you, the kiss unbroken. A soft moan escapes your lips as your back meets the cool wall, sending shivers down your spine. Your free hand finds its way to his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, stirring a sensation you can’t quite explain… The heat between your legs intensifies with each passing moment of the kiss, a fire burning within you.

Megumi’s grip on your waist tightens slightly, eliciting yet another moan from you, making him smirk against your lips. “Missed that fucking voice of yours,” he murmurs in a deeper tone, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body once again. His words, dripping with desire, only serves to fuel the flames of passion between you, leaving you both consumed by the intoxicating heat of the moment.

finally they apologized 🙄

this lowkey might be one of fav parts bc it was so fun to write…

but i’m so excited to write the next part 😗🤭

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

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xoxoavenger · 1 month

Note

Hey! Since you’re taking requests, can I request a sort of part two (not necessarily it could jsut be a stand alone) to Days of Future Past where what if younger Charles had a wife in the 70s where reader decides to break it off with Charlie’s casue the love she had for him begun to slowly dwindle because of all the events that happened in the last fic. And while she does care for him as the father of her son and fully expects him to still be in his sons life, she can’t be with him anymore since it’s to much

Broken

pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

word count: 739

warnings: angst, no comfort

notes: Days Of Future Past was posted a year ago for my birthday celebration, so it's only fitting that I post the long awaited part 2 for another birthday celebration 🥰

Days Of Future Past (part 1)

birthday celebration main masterlist

The thing about change is that it doesn't happen overnight.

When Logan went back to his own time, Y/N never expected Charles to go back to normal immediately. She knew it would be an uphill battle. But she was pregnant and tired of waiting.

"You're joking." Charles says. They're in his study, Y/N standing even though she is due in a week. They haven't had any conversations that aren't about their son since Logan came, and they need to have this conversation before there's a baby taking up all their time. When she brought up her decision, he didn't seem to like it.

"I know you're on cocaine." She says point blank. She's known for awhile, but it's finally time to force him to get his shit together.

"If you're going to leave me, you might as well go before our son comes." He doesn't think she'll actually do it. He goes back to his work, sitting behind his desk as if she'll huff and walk out. But His words just make her more sure in her decision. She takes a deep breath and looks over at him.

"Charles. I am leaving you. We're not arguing about that right now. What we're talking about is if you're going to be in our son's life or not." She can tell this makes Charles mad, but she has to think of herself and her son. She can't stay with Charles, not when he continuously puts her through tough times. She doesn't know how she's even gotten through this pregnancy when all he's done is get high or drunk and act like she wasn't pregnant for six months.

"What the fuck?" Charles blinks, looking up slowly. "You can't just leave as we're about to have a kid!" His argument infuriates her.

"I'm not in love with you anymore!" She screams, the room going completely quiet. They stare at each other, both hurting.

"What does that mean?" He whispers, and she almost wants to take it back. She can't though, because it's the truth.

"I'll always love you, Charles." She tells him, walking closer slowly. "But after what you put me through, I'm not in love with you."

"I need you." He tells her, reaching out when she gets close enough and grabbing her hand. "I can't get through life without you."

"I'll be here." She assures, moving his hand to her protruding stomach. "There will be a piece of us in this world soon, and I would go through everything again for him. But you and I cannot work together. At least not now." Tears begin to fall from Charles' eyes.

"I can quit." He mutters, and she nods.

"I know you can. And you're going to for our son." She moves to sit on his desk. He puts his head against her stomach, tears soaking her shirt.

"I need you." He repeats, and she just shakes her head.

"Our son needs you." She cards her hands through his hair. "Maybe in another time, we can be together, but you've put me through too much."

"I'm sorry." He finally whispers, and she nods, trying not to cry. "I love you so much."

"I know you do." She tells him. A part of her feels bad. She knows he's trying. But it's too little too late, and she can't sacrifice any more of herself.

"I can change." He promises.

"Charles," She pulls away from him, looking down. "I know you can change. But I can't wait for it. I can't keep giving up pieces of myself to fix you." She feels the need to kiss him, for the comfort and the repetitiveness. But it'll only hurt worse.

"I don't need to be fixed. I just need time." He begs, and it's the same thing Y/N has heard over and over.

"I don't have time to give you." She tells him truthfully, moving away from him now. "Our baby will be brilliant. He will have two loving parents. But they will not be together. For their sake and his."

"Y/N," He starts, but he doesn't have anything left to say. He has nothing left to beg with.

"I love and care for you." She whispers. "But I am not in love with you. You have taken things from me that you cannot give back. Broken things you can't repair. And I can't forgive you for that."

She walks out without looking back, going to move her stuff out of their room.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

#charles xavier x reader #young charles xavier #young charles xavier x reader #x men x reader

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nyrasbloodyclover · 1 year

Text

hypnotic (kai anderson x reader)

cw: breeding kink, eating disorder (it's really really bad), mommy issues, mentions of suicide, parental abuse, cults, kai is his own warning really, murder, overstimulation

a/n: if you're not into this pleaseeeee leaveeeeee i don't want tumblr to delete my blog again. also you can read this fic on ao3 if you'd like, link is in my pinned post. and if, by any chance, you relate to this i am so sorry.

What I wanted right now, was to get out of my house, go anywhere, just so I could stop listening to constant fighting and screaming from my parents. I couldn't bear it anymore. I had one year until college but it seemed impossible to survive that long.

"Oh, look who locked herself in her room!" My mother bursted in and a pit started forming in my stomach. I didn't move. "When are you going to start being useful? You're in here all the time, you could start paying rent."

Now, what was I supposed to say to that? If I told her that the reason I spent all my time in my room was because they wouldn't stop screaming at each other and I would just be their punching bag, she wouldn't listen and the situation would only get worse.

"Or maybe it's time for you to find a job. Now you're just living like a parasite." I stared. My mother was a very complex character. I think she would be capable of pulling Gone Girl on us. She has the mentality. Just saying.

My father on the other hand, he's weak. Or she made him weak. I don't remember the last time he stood up for himself. He's tired, I can see that clearly. I just wish they would get a divorce. It's so draining to wake up everyday and live in fear that your every move is going to be a mistake, something to criticize.

I don't remember the last time I felt truly at peace, but I could afford myself distractions. That's how I ended up scrolling through Tumblr 12 hours per day and forgetting to eat because the skinny girls I came across were just so pretty. Food was my enemy. We couldn't stand each other. And the guilt simply because of eating was the worst feeling ever.

Empty is pretty. And I wanted to look pretty, so I starved. It was my sport. It still is. The joy of seeing my hipbones and ribs after some time was indescribable. I loved to lay awake at night and touch my bones, feel them as I tried to fall asleep. Of course, there were many times when I just couldn't take it anymore and I binged. I would regret it immediately and restrict even more.

"Alright. I'll find a job." I stared at her with empty eyes. I was dizzy, almost like I got drunk. She exited the room and slammed the doors behing her. I think I'm never going to fully understand her.

I stared at my ceiling, having no energy to move, even though I had unfinished assignments hanging above my head, screaming at me to do them, but I just wanted to sleep. School can wait. I think my red lipstick was smudged, but I had no energy to take it off. My hair was a mess, too. I tried to straighten it but my natural waves were too stubborn. I fell asleep.

A week passed. My life stayed the same except for my new job at the restaurant—The Butchery On Main.

The two sweet women who own it were kind enough to let me work even though they don't employ people under eighteen. I worked mostly after my school, until the closing. I didn't mind since I got to leave the house and get a break from my parents.

People were nice, I took their orders, served their food. The restuarant was mostly empty during my shifts, but nonetheless it was almost hard, working with food. All those calories around me made me want to puke. And I wasn't much of a puker. I had the urge to binge. It was disgusting. But I wasn't going to throw all my work out of the window just like that.

I had my diet coke and if I got hungry Ivy said that I could eat whatever I wanted, and I wanted cucumber. With pepper. They had those.

Today, I had much free time so I was just sitting at one of the tables and doing my homework while scrolling through Tumblr and eating freshly peeled cucumber with some seasoning on top. I was thriving. I was almost happy. It seemed impossible.

The door opened. A man walked in. He was dressed in black from head to toe and what stood out the most was his blue hair with grown out roots. He walked like he owned the building and everyone in it. I immediately stood up, while he was pulling out his chair, fixing my uniform. I let him read through the menu for a couple of seconds and then decided to approach.

"What would you like to order?" I smiled. I was nice. I am always nice. Why hasn't he looked at me yet? Why is he ignoring my presence? His head was bowed down until he raised it and I was met with black pools that stared at me, or rather through me. I felt dizzy and it wasn't the diet.

"Surprise me," he cocked his head, "I would love to see what you liberals like to eat the most. Maybe it'll make me change my political views."

"Al..right," I dragged on, "Is that all?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Everything will be done in a minute." I wanted to get away from him, as soon as possible. He was probably some Trump obsessed republican who's most likely to tell me to make him a sandwich. Which I am practically doing right now. But I couldn't deny it - He had a beautiful face. I wouldn't consider him that attractive if it weren't for his dead, piercing eyes that silently commanded you to obey every one of his rules.

The food was ready. I had a feeling I would fall on my face next time I locked my eyes with his, which wasn't good. I didn't even know his name! Rachel, one of the cooks, handed me the best steak they had, house's special, "Who is it for?"

I didn't dare look at him. "The one with the blue hair. Just please don't stare. He's creeping me out."

Her eyes went wide, "That's Kai Anderson."

I looked at her blandly. The name didn't mean anything to me.

"You seriously need to watch more television."

"I'm fine, thanks. And if he's some menatlly deranged politician, then I'm not really missing out."

All the politics drained me, and don't get me wrong, I loved to be informed, but when I had to argue with someone about basic human rights, I'd rather not know anything.

I walked over to his table, and put the food on it. "I hope you're not vegan. Either way, enjoy your food." I kept my eyes everywhere, just not on him. He was so unsettling. I had to get away.

"I certainly will," he said and I walked away without a second glance. Jesus Christ, his mere presence was intense.

My shift ended in half an hour and that's when the restaurant was supposed to close. Ivy left early because of some family emergency, so she asked me to close and lock everything for her. I changed into my regular clothes—denim skirt and a white button down with my favorite black sweater, docs and a pair of knee socks. I untangled my hair and tried to brush it out with my fingers.

The tables were empty. Well, mostly. So-called Kai Anderson was still here, not even eating, just looking at some papers and flipping them over, for a while now.

I needed some extra balls to approach him and ask him to leave. Why did I accept to be the last one here? I could've been home by now, sleeping or watching a sitcom, but instead I'm stuck in this building with the strangest and the scariest man I've ever met. But then again, If I were home, my mother would be screaming at me. So I guess it's a win? Also I had to thank Kai for occupying my mind and not letting me think about food. I seriously needed to go to bed before I ended up eating something. Or worse- binging. I think I had less than 200 calories today which is a sign that I am slowly approaching danger zone. It isn't a diet anymore. I can't eat normally. I thought I could go back, but I guess my body won't let me. Or was it my mind?

"Miss?" Someone waved before my eyes.

"Yes? Sorry." Kai was standing beside the table that I occupied.

"Are you closing soon?"

Should I lie? But then again, he isn't stupid. "Yes. Do you want to pay?"

"Oh no. I already did. I just wondered what occupied your mind that much." He had no idea.

"Nothing much. Just tired I guess. Can't seem to balance school and work."

"Ah. You see," he sat across me, "I don't believe you."

"Okay? I didn't try to be persuasive."

He smirked. Dear God, why was he so creepy but so hot at the same time?

"I still want to know what made you zone out for that long." Has he been staring at me the whole time?

"That's creepy. I don't even know you."

"What's that got to do with anything? I just asked you to tell me what's been botherung you. You looked fucking stressed."

"It really doesn't matter." I just wanted him to leave.

"Wait. Here, I'll give you..." he reached into his back pocket, "Fifty bucks if you tell me."

My lips curved. Come on, you can't blame me. Extra cash at my age isn't something you just don't accept.

"Ah! I knew it," he smiled, "Come on, doll, speak."

"It isn't anything interesting. My mom is just being a bitch, nothing unusual." I gave him the least I could and snatched the cash from his hand.

"She isn't letting you sleep over at your boyfriend's or something?" He laughed like I had the dumbest reason for not liking my mother.

"Not really. She just...Wants too much, I guess? And I'm not able to give her that." It felt weird saying that out loud. I think I never said it.

He stared at me for a second.

"I want to show you a trick." He put his right hand on the table. "Don't worry. It's something me and my older brother always used to do when we were little."

He reached with his pinky finger over to my hand. We locked fingers like we were making a pinky promise.

"This is weird. And please hurry. My shift ends in fifteen minutes."

"We have enough time. Okay, listen. Pinky power. Once the skin contact is made, no lies can be told and whatever we say, stays between us," he narrowed his black eyes, "Trust me, if you lie, I will know. Ready?"

When did I agree to this? Well, fuck it, I'll do it anyway.

"Do you love your family?" He asked, his expression serious.

"Yes." His mouth twitched.

"Do you like your family?"

"Absolutely not." I shook my head.

"Why is that?"

How do I explain this to him without sounding like a total maniac? "My father is weak, he doesn't know how to stand up for himself. And my mother screams at me for merely existing. Her favorite hobby is emotionally draining me, then pulling my hair or slapping me because she feels like it. She regrets having me. I think she wants me to kill myself. It would be easier to have a dead daughter." My mind went blank. I felt nothing in that moment. Whatever he asked, I was going to tell him.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?," he asked with a flat voice.

I thought for a second. Should I tell him the whole truth? He said he's going to know if I lie, but that doesn't mean...

"Don't think too much." His eyes went dark while I was literally choking under pressure of his gaze.

"No. I was never suicidal. I like living. But I..." words were stuck in my throat, "I...Sometimes, she would starve me. Saying I didn't deserve it. I had no money to buy something to eat. So I made a game out of it. I developed a disorder. It was the only thing I had some control over. I started it out of spite, but now it's real. It's worse than ever. But I don't want to stop."

His expression never changed. Not once. "Do you hate your mother for that?"

"You have no idea."

"I think I do have some idea about hating one of your parents. So, from experience, I need to ask you one more question."

I nodded. "Have you ever dreamt about killing her?"

I wanted to pull back from him, but his hand wouldn't let me. He pulled me even closer. "We can't break the contact," he gritted through his teeth.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I exhaled, "Yes. And no."

"Elaborate."

The restuarant was silent. I couldn't even hear the sound of cars outside. Lights were practically out.

"I...I wanted her dead. But I don't think I would be able to do it. I had a," I inhaled, "A fantasy about someone killing her while I watched. It's so fucked up, but I just couldn't help it. It brought me relief that she was gone and someone cared enough to get rid of her for me."

I was scared to look at him. He was going to call the mental ward and lock me there. I was fucked. Why did I tell him all of that?

I looked up.

He was smiling. It wasn't a sympathetic smile, or a sad smile, or anything similar to that. He was grinning like a maniac. He released my hand and I realized my eyes were filled with tears. I blinked them away.

He shook his head with closed eyes, "You're perfect. Perfect."

My voice was low, weak. "What? How could you think that after what I just told you?"

"Don't ask too many questions. I have a solution for you because I know you're destined for greater things. Tell me, do you wish to never be under your mother's thumb again?"

"I mean, yes? That's going to be when I turn eighteen, so I have to be patient."

He laughed. "Oh, no, baby, no. She's never going to let you go. She'll suffocate you until there is nothing left but a shell. No matter the age or what the law says, you'll always be controlled. While she's alive, at least."

"What are you saying?"

"Do you want my help? Do you wish to be finally free?"

This was so fucked up. I never met this man in my life. Why was he offering me help?

"What's in it for you?"

He cocked his head, "I get to keep you by my side."

My mouth was dry. I was scared, but...excited. Thrill rushed down my body as this psychopath was staring at me, offering me a sick escape. I was supposed to say no. I was supposed to save my soul.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"I want your help."

He looked so happy, it made me happy.

"Good. Then, we're leaving now." I was hypnotized by him. I just nodded, not asking where or why, my mother taught me I shouldn't get in the cars with strangers, especially men, but my mother was also the reason for many of my problems. I'll do something that'll piss her off.

I got into Kai's car and shut the door. I was okay with the fact that he might end up killing me.

He said nothing for the most of the ride, but I noticed him glancing over at my skirt that rose up to my thighs. I didn't bother pulling it down. I mean, I wore mini skirts for a reason, right?

I pretended not to notice as I looked at my reflection in the closed window. Hollow cheeks, red lipstick, pale face. I was obsessed. I always wanted to look like a corpse with make up. My face was perfect, lipstick untouched, mascara a little smudged, dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights.

"You know you could eat a burger." I looked at him. I almost wanted to hug him. His words made me feel proud, like I achieved something big. And I guess I did.

"Really? Do you know that you're the first person ever to tell me that?" I felt weird happiness in my chest.

"Well, yeah. Why do you look so surprised? I didn't mean it as a compliment. You have a problem. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be a compliment." He frowned, not taking his eyes off the road.

"It doesn't matter if it's supposed to be a compliment or not. Thank you for saying it." I didn't give two fucks if he thought I was some anorexic lunatic that needed years of therapy. I was happy. And he wasn't my parent or my guardian to tell me what to do.

"Just think about it. What's the point of being so skinny? It's not even attractive."

"The point is in being clean. I don't want to see a pound of fat on my body. It's disgusting. And I am to do with my body as I please. I don't give a fuck if someone likes to eat like a fucking pig because It's not my body, and certainly not my problem." I was so angry. Who the fuck he thought he was?

"Just saying. You look sick. And I mean really, really sick."

"I am aware. Like I'm also aware that I'm fucked in the head. And that's the reason for all of this," I gestured over my figure.

I could feel his anger. He didn't like that I disagreed with him and stood up for myself, even if I was wrong.

"We're here." He suddenly said, getting out of the car. I followed him into the house I guessed was his. The whole neighborhood was silent. Lights were off everywhere.

We got into his house and I didn't even got to see it clearly because he practically dragged me into his basement and started changing. He put on a black leather coat while looking for something. His phone? He called someone.

"I'm expecting you'll be here in five? Well don't try to make up excuses. This is a perfect opportunity. I don't care— No, drag yourself and your pathetic wife here." He called two more people and I just stood in the middle of the room staring at him.

"What's your adress?" Was he really doing that now? "You know what, never mind. I found it." I wasn't going to ask him how. He looked like the person who instead of Instagram browsed dark web.

"Okay, let's go. They're here." I had to ask him because he said nothing about it. I had to be sure.

"Why are we going to my house?"

Beat. A moment. "To kill your mother, of course."

There were other people with us, but I couldn't see their faces because of the creepy clown masks. Kai had one too. I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know what happened to me. I suppose I had enough. I know Kai is not the answer for my problems, at least not all of them. He's going to get rid of her and then what? No. Stop thinking.

I listened to my brain this time. It was late. My parents were probably asleep. Probably in separate beds. It's going to be easier for Kai and the others to do the job. They kept their mouths shut and I didn't blame them. I still wasn't sure if I was part of this sick cult or whatever it was. I read enough about them to recognize a cult leader when I see one.

The car suddenly stopped. We were in front of my house.

"This played out so good, little lamb. I knew you were perfect." Kai's voice was muffled under that mask and his words made my heart flutter. He was so sick. "Don't just stand there, baby. Be a good host. Invite us in. Come on," he gestured with one gloved hand towards my house. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I turned my back and started walking towards the door. What did he mean by this playing out good? Did he plan this before? It certainly did not matter.

We got in, doors creaking, but not enough to wake anyone up. My father was downstairs, in the guestroom, but my Satanic mother was in their bedroom. I went first, up the stairs, one by one, they followed me, Kai first, then the rest of them.

I showed them the doors.

Kai got in and they followed him. I shut the door behind me. I felt like I was seeing things through someone else's eyes. I didn't feel guilt and I wasn't regretting my decision. I remember everything through a coat of blur. Knives, a lot of them. They killed her in her sleep. Stabbed her too many times, I lost count. Sheets were soaked with red and the room started smelling like iron too. Kai used her blood to draw some sign on the wall that was facing the bed. It looked like a smiley face, but I wasn't sure. The job was done. I was free. I was free of any charges, since I wasn't home when it happened. I was going to sleep in my bed and wake up in the morning, shocked, petrified, screaming for help, calling the police, my father is going to be terrified too, but relieved. He would never admit it thought.

We were in the car again. Then in front of Kai's house. "Leave. I want some time alone with our newest member."

"Kai, no. You can't drag her into this. She's just a child—" A feminine voice scorned him under her mask.

"Don't tell me what to do, Winter. Now leave," he raised his voice and I flinched. "We have much to talk about." He took off his mask and smiled knowingly at me. I wasn't scared of him anymore, though I knew I should be. He killed my mother for Christ's sake!

We went into his basement again. The lights were already on and I watched him as he took off his mask and black coat. His shirt was soaked with my mother's blood.

"What did you want to talk about?" I cocked my head.

"You were so good. I knew you could do it. Next time, maybe you'll even be the one holding the knife. You didn't even flinch!" He paced through the room and laughed, like he was talking to himself.

"You didn't do this for me, did you?"

He stopped, then looked at me, "I already told you. This played out perfectly. And I've been watching for quite some time now," his eyes darkened "When I found out that the woman who's been talking shit about me over her social media had a daughter, I had to see if she was as bitchy as her mother." Oh, so he did this to save his reputation. Of course.

"And," I swallowed, "Is she?"

He didn't answer me. Instead he marched to the other side of the room and pushed me against the wall, slamming his lips on mine. I was out of breath, not being able to process everything. Oh my god, he was kissing me! This insane, sick in the head, narcissistic, 30-something, psychopath was kissing me and I opened my mouth to him like the whore I was. I wanted him to touch me. No, I needed his blood stained hands on me right now.

I pulled one of his hands and put it on my chest as his tongue continued to explore my mouth. He took off my sweater and shirt. I was left in a black bra and skirt.

"Aren't you scared of being arrested for fucking a minor?"

"I commited far more monstrous crimes than fucking a seventeen year old and you know it, " he breathed into my mouth. Red lipstick was smudged over his lips. His hand that was on my chest slipped under my skirt and found my panties.

"You know it," his fingers entered me with ease, "And yet, you're still so fucking wet for me." My mouth fell open as he buried his fingers deeper if that was even possible. I wasn't a virgin, but then again, I've never been with a man. I took my own virginity so that I didn't have to bother.

"Kai—" I breathed. I needed more.

He sat on one of the chairs beside the circular table and pulled me onto his lap, his thigh between my legs. My clit was aching for some king of friction so I started rubbing myself against the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Aren't you desperate?" He pushed me on the floor, between his legs, he pulled out his belt and unzipped his pants. His intentions were clear and I was happy to oblige, but I had to touch myself or I'd go insane. I started stroking his already hard dick and rubbing my clit at the same time.

He noticed. And he wasn't happy about it. "I thought you were going to be patient. But I guess not." He took his belt and with one move he tied my hands behind my back while I was still kneeling in front of him.

"Please, I just need to—"

"Yes, yes, I know, but you have to deserve it. Am I right?"

I nodded hesitantly and he scooped up my hair in his fist and used it to pull my head down. I took him into my mouth as the wetness and ache grew between my legs.

Kai continued to pull my head down until his tip hit the back of my throat and I gagged. He chuckled.

My eyes teared up as I sucked his dick like my life depended on it.

He grunted and raised his hips, so I knew he was close. And I knew he was going to either come in my mouth or...

He pulled out and finished on my tits, painting my chest with his cum.

"You were so good," he said with his head tilted back and eyes closed. He let my hair fall down my back and over my face. Kai dressed and got up, then pulled me with him, still tied.

He slammed me on the desk and I was able to just lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Not that I minded.

"I feel like I'm going to break you," he said as he traced my very visible ribs with the tips of his fingers. "Break every bone in your body."

I could feel my stomach sinking in and his words made me even a bigger mess than I already was. "Do it, please, please," I cried out as my hips rose towards him.

"Since you asked so nicely...And the skirt stays on. Do you know how much willpower it took me not to bury my hand under your skirt and make you beg for more while we were driving?" He pulled my skirt up and didn't even bother to take off the panties, he just ripped them. He towered over me as I layed on his table, feeling the cool air on my swollen clit.

Kai's fingers went over my aching pussy and my back arched towards his touch. He did nothing for a split second and then came the first slap. I yelped as the burning spread between my legs, but I didn't tell him to stop. He slapped me even harder and I cried out, most ungodly sounds coming from my mouth.

"Don't worry, you can scream as loud as you'd like."

He slapped my dripping cunt once more and after that I was sure I was going to feel his hands on me days after. He didn't wait for me to recover from his brutality, instead he buried two fingers inside me and started scissoring, wanting to spread me even wider. I threw my head back as he added one more. He buried them knuckle deep inside me and began curling them.

"I feel like you're a big girl. You can take one more." He didn't wait for my agreement. His four fingers were inside, making my pussy burn with pleasure. I wasn't able to form words. He spat on me and started massaging my clit while almost his whole hand was thrusting in and out of me. I felt pressure deep in my lower stomach and started panting and moaning for him to continue, but he did exactly the opposite.

My cunt was left empty without his fingers and I could almost cry. I just needed a bit more.

"Don't look so upset. I'm not finished with you."

Kai untied me and took his belt. He spread my legs as wide as he could and started spanking my pussy with it. I screamed more in pain than surprise, "Kai, no, stop, please stop-"

The pain was unbearable, but it was just enough for my clit to start pulsing more and that pressure in my belly to grow. I screamed in pain as he continued to hit me with no mercy. I could feel my walls clenching and my back arched as I came undone. Orgasm hit me and I came down from my high, but Kai didn't stop.

He started rubbing my abused cunt, overstimulating it. He was deaf to my begging and crying. It was too much. There was no pleasure anymore, just pure pain, but he continued to massage it and after a couple of minutes I was shaking with another orgasm. I knew I was too sensitive, but when I tried to close my legs, he stopped me. Then I noticed his rock hard dick under his jeans and my heart dropped. I was going to pass out. He was going to use me, not caring for my pleasure anymore.

"Just hold still a little more, doll." He pulled his dick out and slammed himself inside me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. Everything hurt, but he didn't care. His thrusts were fast and rough, I couldn't keep up. I could feel his orgasm building and he had no intention of pulling out. Kai continued to slam into me until he reached his peak. He filled me with his seed and when he finally pulled out I could feel it dripping from my pussy.

Kai helped me get up and as he was untying his belt, his hot breath was on my neck. "Welcome to the cult, baby."

#kai anderson fanfic #kai anderson fanfiction #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #ahs cult #ahs fanfic #ahs coven #ahs #american horror story #kit walker #tate langdon #james patrick march #jimmy darling #evan peters fanfic #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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[네이버 포스트] 슈가에게 취하는 타임,, 오늘은 화보천재 민윤기에게 취한ㄷr,,, (@ https://naver.me/I5cnoxSW) #BTS #방탄소년단 #SUGA #슈가 #민윤기

[Naver Post] Time to get drunk on SUGA,, Getting drunk on photobook-genius Min Yoongi,,,

Naver Post Translation

Keep reading for a plain text version of the blog post! For a picture edit version, please check out our twitter post or the HD version on our website!

[BTS] Me, Myself, and SUGA 비하인드 포스트

[BTS] Me, Myself, and SUGA Behind-the-Scenes Post

아-하!

Hi-A!

(T/N: Stands for ‘Hi ARMY’, which is how Bangbell always starts these posts.)

아미들 안녕하세요! 방림이 입니다. 요즘 아침에는 춥고,, 낮에는 덥고,, 밤에는 다시 춥고,, 옷을 어떻게 입으라는 건지,,~ 차암나,,,

Hello ARMYs! It’s Bangbell. These days it’s very cold in the mornings,, hot during the day,, then cold again at night,, What clothes am I even supposed to wear,,~ Sigh,,,

(대충 아미들은 머릿속으로 떠오르는 계절감 모르겠는 유닛 라이브 짤)

(Most ARMYs are probably thinking of that clip from the unit live where you couldn’t tell what season it was)*

(T/N: A reference to Jin’s birthday live on December 4, 2018, when he, Jimin, and RM were all wearing such different styles of clothes that fans joked they couldn’t even tell what season it was based on how they were dressed.)

저는 오늘 진 처럼 맨투맨을 입었는데 딱이더라고요,, 아미들은 진? 지민? RM? 누구처럼 입었나요,,, (아니 이게 주제가 아닌데)

Today I’m wearing a crewneck just like Jin and I think that’s just right,, ARMYs who are you more dressed like? Jin? Jimin? RM?,,, (No wait this isn’t the main topic)

아무튼 방림이가 아미들에게 금요일,,! 곧 다가오는 주말을 위해 조금만 더 힘을 내라고 포스트를 들고 찾아왔읍니다,, (찡긋)

Anyways Bangbell has brought ARMYs this Friday,,! a post telling you to keep going for the sake of the fast-approaching weekend,, (wink)

Special 8 Photo-Folio의 마. 지. 막. 을 장식할 주인공이죠! Me, Myself, and SUGA ‘Wholly or Whole me’ 비하인드 포스트입니다! (박수) (함성)

The person who will grace the very. end. of. the Special 8 Photo-Folio! It’s the behind-the-scenes post for Me, Myself, and SUGA ‘Wholly or Whole me’

(Applause)

(Cheers)

이번 화보는 바쁜 일상 속에 진짜 “나=민윤기” 를 만나볼 수 있는 순간을 화보로 풀어보았다고 해요! 화보의 전체 콘셉트 및 아이템들을 슈가의 의도와 취향이 반영된 것들로 꾸미고, 가장 슈가 다운 모습을 촬영하여 아미와 함께 공유하고 싶었다는데요!

In this photobook it’s said that we’ll be able to meet the real “Me = Min Yoongi” within his busy daily life through this photobook! The photobook’s overall concept and items are decorated according to SUGA’s design and style, And I wanted to share this with ARMY because they captured SUGA in his most authentic form!

민윤기,,,,, 오늘도 GOSO,, 하기 전에!

Min Yoongi,,,,, before I sue you*,, today as well!

(T/N: *An inside joke that came from when an ARMY playfully threatened to sue SUGA at a 2014 fansign for being too handsome.)

바로 비하인드 사진 만나러 가봐야죠!

Let’s go check out the behind-the-scenes photos!

혹시,, 혼자 오셨을까요,,,? 저도 혼자인데 같이 캠핑하실,,ㅋ? 물론 요리도 님이 하셔야하고,,, 운전도 님이 하셔야하지만,, 님과 함께하고 싶어요,,, 저 푸른 초원 위에,, ㅋ (그만)

Did you perhaps,, come alone,,,? I’m also by myself so would you maybe want to camp togeth,, ha? Of course you sir have to do the cooking,,, and you have to do the driving but,, I want to be together with you sir,,, On the prairie*,, ha (stop)

(T/N: *Referencing the lyrics from the song “With My Love” by Nam Jin)

민윤기 레전드 머리 등장 방림이 심장이 멎다. -삐—……

Min Yoongi’s legendary hairstyle has made an appearance Bangbell’s heart has stopped. -Beeeep—……

민윤기 얼굴 걍 기절이야.. 뭐야.. 나 이제 지도도 부러워해야 하는거임?

Min Yoongi’s face could just make me faint.. What even.. Should I be jealous of the map now too?

내가 이제,,, 무슨 말을 더 해야 하니,,,, (지침) 갱얼쥐야,, 너는,, 좋겠다,,,

What more,,, could I even possibly say,,,, (exhausted) Puppy,, you,, must be very happy,,,

자연광 + 민윤기 = 재질 걍 미쳤�� 그냥,,,, 미쳤다는 말 밖에는,,,,, 할 말 X,,,

Natural lighting + Min Yoongi = Insane quality I just,,,, have X words left to say,,,,, except that it’s insane,,,

민슈가 사진 치과에 걸어두면 좋겠다… 보는 내내 입을 다물 수가 없어서 치료에 효과적일 듯 (;;) ㄴ ㄹㅇㅋㅋ

I wish I could hang up Min Suga’s photos at the dentist’s office…It seems like you wouldn’t be able to close your mouth while looking at them so it would be effective for dental treatment (;;) ㄴ For real haha

민윤기,, 세상에 있는 멋짐을 다 가졌구나,,, (안 무겁나?;;)

Min Yoongi,, I see you’ve taken all of the coolness in the world ,,, (Isn’t it heavy?;;)

방림이 힘들어요,,, 지금 벌써 고소장 309개 째 쓰고있단말이예요,,, (퀭)

Bangbell is going through it,,, I’ve already been writing 309 complaint forms,,, (sighs)

좋다,,, 이거 바로 그냥 배경화면 해 버려.

Nice,,, Just gonna make this my wallpaper.

엥 ? 누가 마쉬멜로우고 누가 민윤기란말임 도대체 누가 더 말랑하단말임?

Huh? Which one is a marshmallow and which one is Min Yoongi Which one would be the squishiest?

하 분위기 뭔데,, 방림이 인생에는 위기만 있는데,, 민윤기 사진 분위기 뭐냐고,,, ㅠ,,,,??? 저 옆자리에 방림이만 있으면 아주 그냥 딱 인데 ㄴ 아미 : ??? (흐린눈)

Ha what is this mood,, There’s only chaos in Bangbell’s life,, What’s the mood of Min Yoongi’s photos,,, ㅠ,,,,??? If Bangbell was in that spot next to him then it’d be just absolutely perfect ㄴ ARMY : ??? (blissfully ignores)

바람에 날린 앞머리 마저 귀.여.워. 민. 윤. 기. 귀. 여. 워. (기절)

Even his bangs fluttering in the wind are c.u.t.e. Min. Yoon. Gi. Is. Cute. (faints)

슈가만의 분위기와 무드가 가득한 Me, Myself, and SUGA ‘Wholly or Whole me’ ! 방림이의 비하인드 잘 구경하셨나요?! 포토북 기다리는 ��미들은 방림이 포스트 보면서 조금만 기다려주기!

Me, Myself, and SUGA ‘Wholly or Whole me’ was full of SUGA’s unique ambiance and mood ! Did you enjoy Bangbell’s behind-the-scenes look?! For the ARMYs who are waiting for the photobook please wait a little more while you look at Bangbell’s post!

주말 잘 보내고, 기분좋게 마무리 하길 바라요 아미들! 이번주도 고생 많았어요! (하트)

Have a great weekend, and I hope you end the week on a happy note ARMYs! You’ve worked hard again this week! (heart)

아-뿅!

A-Poof!

(T/N: Short for “Bye ARMY! Poof!”, which is how Bangbell always ends these posts.)

[Note]

본 포스트는 BIGHIT MUSIC에서 직접 운영하는 포스트입니다.

This Naver Post is personally run by BIGHIT MUSIC.

[End Note]

Trans cr; Ali Typeset cr; Archillea @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

#230310 #suga #yoongi #big hit #official #twitter #naver #post #bangbell #blogpost #me myself and suga #bts #bangtan #photos

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k4katsujin · 5 months

Text

new year's hangover☆

lil drabble where you befriend ghost at the tf141 new year's party... what can possibly go wrong?

content: drunkness, socially anxious-ish reader, ghost being ghost, passing out and hickeys.

author's note: UHHH HAI IM BACK?!?!? icl im kinda hating myself because im posting a drabble instead of a full work.... am sorry.. mi bad mi bad... also im waiting for friday for new invincible content because the brainrot is REALLL

also pls pretend i posted this on new year's eve... HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YALL BTWWWWW

shotout to @unabashedcroissanttreefan bc i want to make her bitter /hj, and to @michelleart8 ! <3

anyway enjoy and pls reblog

wc: 1836

"will you be coming at the new year's party tonight?" price asked as he noticed you filling some paperwork in the common room.

"i dont think so" you sigh, "im not that much of a social person, and i still have a lot of paperwork to fill in,let alone medical files."

"are you sure?" price asked, worried you might overwork yourself, but then an idea suddenly came to his mind. "i heard the lieutenant will be there as well, rumors have it you have a crush on him, so it'd be a good opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of just- avoiding him like you do."

the thought of captain price having noticed you had a crush on ghost sent a bright blush to your cheeks, but you waved those thoughts away.

"even if he was here, that doesn't mean i stand a chance with him" you reply, losing focus on your paperwork, now that the lieutenant was mentioned. "we barely talk anyway, and he seems to hate me so..."

"he seems to hate everyone" price chuckled, "dont take it personally. did the fact that he will be there change your mind?"

"i dont know" you sigh, but your little smile was betraying you. "it will depend on whether i have finished filling those files. at what time will it start?"

"around 7!" price replied with a subtle smile, feeling like he convinced you to come. "oh,and, you can come in a casual outfit, no need to pull up the formal uniform", he winked and left.

the few hours that separated you from the awaited party came, and all of a sudden a sudden peak of anxiety invaded you.

what if everyone made fun of your awful social skills? what if you didnt dress well enough?

your overthinking stopped as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket; surprisingly enough, it was a text from price.

are you coming? ghost is here 👀

you chuckled as you put on a comfy sweater, and headed to the common room.

"you came!!" price greeted you, smiling brightly at you. "make yourself at ease, go get yourself something to drink, and who knows? maybe alcohol can help you make a move on our lovely lieutenant" he chuckled, before handing you a cup of alcohol.

"do you... want to get me drunk so i could get rid of my social anxiety?" you asked price, raising an eyebrow.

"maybe" he chuckled, already sounding drunk, "is it working?"

"not reall- ouch"

you blushed brightly as you noticed ghost was the one who stumbled into you.

"oi," he said, sounding slightly drunk as well, "im sorry. must've lost my balance, probably drank too much already. you're y/n, right?"

"y-yes," you nod, still not over the interaction, praying he didn't notice the bright blush on your cheeks, "why?"

"because..." he tries to articulate, and nearly fell on the floor, "ive been meaning to tell you... you're doing a great ass good job... dont let my mean words convince you otherwise, k?"

"oh-" you said, taken aback by this sudden demonstration of kindness, your heart melting. "thank you lieutenant..?"

the evening went on, until the cheerful "happy new year!!!" resonated in the walls of the tf141's buildings, everyone happy to finally greet the new year.

the party then came to an end, and so you decided to stay a little longer to help clean the room. once you got done, and got ready to head back to your quarters, you noticed an odd figure.

was ghost... asleep? he sure seemed to. he probably passed out due to all the alcohol he had drank, and you couldn't blame him.

that's how he somehow ended in your quarters - and if you were to be honest, carrying a man as massive as him was NOT an easy thing, but you somehow managed to. you tried your best to put him in a comfortable position on your couch, but bringing him here was already kind enough, wasn't it? so you just left him laying down on the floor, covering his massive frame with a blanket, and put a pillow under his head.

"this sure was a strange new year's day" you thought out loud, "happy new year lieutenant"

just in case something happened to ghost, you decided pull an all nighter (?), and you were right to, well at least, soft of.

in the middle of the night, ghost woke up, seemingly not over his hangover.

"i'll tell you what, y/n, ive always been in love with you." he mumbled, barely able to stand.

your heart dropped at this confession, but you had to stay lucid: he couldn't possibly mean it, it had to be the alcohol, right? that would make no sense if he was in love with you.

but you couldn't help to secretely wish what he was saying was true, after all you know the saying: drunk words are sober thoughts, and now you really hoped the saying was true there.

"lieutenant,you're drunk, you should go back to sle-"

he interrupted you by kissing you, first on the lips, and then moved on to your neck, leaving a little trail of hickeys here and there.

you gave in the kiss, you knew it was wrong, but it felt so good, but quickly waved those thoughts off: it was wrong in any way. he was your superior, and drunk, you couldn't abuse his drunken state like that.

but the feel of his lips on yours sure felt like heaven...

as if nothing happened, he smirked softly as he pulled out of the kiss, and resumed his peaceful slumber on your floor.

however, the next morning was nothing like that.

"looks like someone had fun last night" ghost grumbled as he noticed your many hickeys. "what the fuck am i doing here? and where even is here, and did you poison me? why is my head pounding?" he asked, back to his usual stern self, and you would actually be surprised if he didnt.

"youre in my quarters" you reply as you handed him a cup of anti hangover tea. "i brought you here because we were the only two remaining at the party, and you passed out. and hum... about the hickeys, how much do you remember from last night?" you ask as you look away, embarassed at the thought of last night's passionate kiss.

"i dont remember shit, why?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than mean.

"okay i..." (you sigh) "promise not to get mad at me if i tell you?" (he shakes his head, annoyed) "okay, so... you confessed yesterday." you blurt out, "but that is not all." (you gulp.) "we also kissed and... you gave me those hickeys."

"oh." he said blankly, and you could feel the blush in his voice, despite his mask.

"yeah.." you chuckled awkwardly, not daring to look at him, "but i have one question though. were you honest when you said you... 'always have been in love with me?"

your heartbeat quickened as you waited for his answer, but you had to know.

"would it be weird if i said yes..?" he asked, unable to look at your eyes, and your heart nearly missed a beat. "i mean, youre always doing what youre told to despite the fact that i treat you like shit and... i don't know, i guess that made me develop a kind of soft spot for you... do you happen to feel the same way..?" he asked, and you could feel the vulnerability in his voice.

"i- i think i do..?" you replied, both confused and relieved. "i mean, i always thought you hated me but.. this feels a bit rushed. can we do it again?"

"okay" he nodded, "how does 'hello, my name is simon riley, known as ghost, lieutenant from the task force 141, and i am in love with the wonderful y/n' sounds?" ghost chuckled with a soft smile, loving at you with loving eyes.

"much better" you reply with a soft smile, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, way better.

later on that day, when you and ghost headed to the briefing room hand in hand, price couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"see? seems like alcohol can do wonders" he whispered, and it made you let out a small chuckle as well.

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dnickels · 8 months

Text

RE: 5x05. I have no idea how much I'm supposed to read into this, but that has never stopped me before:

It's VE Day. Havers is back in England. The post office, telephone system, communication infrastructure etc all still work. So where is Cap's sense of urgency coming from? He knows the full name and regiment of a serving officer, a letter will get where it needs to go, they're very good about that over there. Yes, Cap's been waiting, but its been six years, he can wait a little longer-- hang out in the bushes until he sees Haver's car drive away and bang on the window, if he insists on being an insane person (<3). Figure out where he's billeted. Japan hasn't surrendered yet, so I suppose there's a chance Havers could get shipped to Burma or something and potentially die there, but he's not going to go straight from the cocktail reception to the troop ship, especially if everyone there is about to get "Hitler defeated"-levels of drunk. ("They're all red tabs, surely decency and decorum--" they are going to roll those old soaks out of there in wheelbarrows)

The urgency isn't because Havers might die. I think Cap knew his time was short.

He's a middle aged man in tolerably good shape, all that ration food aside. He make good time on his morning jogs, and his biggest ailment is 'creaky knees'. "Widowmaker heart attack out of nowhere" isn't an unheard of COD for someone who seems otherwise fine, especially someone who has been under a fair amount of stress (six years of wartime, including the fucking Blitz would do a number on my heart) but his sudden relocation makes me pause. It's only been about a year since he got relocated away from Button House, right? What was all that about? It's presumably still requisitioned, given that they're throwing a swanky victory party there and Heather Button is nowhere to be seen, but has the weapons program been disbanded? Or was there some reason to pull the CO out of a high-stress position and send him to the beach to take potshots at seagulls? (I am being glib here-- the coast was NOT a stress-free place when you can see your enemy just across the Channel). I genuinely forget what he said he was doing in season three-- was he even still in the army at all, or did they send his ass to the Home Guard? Even they got a campaign ribbon.

I think Cap made one last push to get to the front, and while its very clear that this dingus should under no circumstances be on the front line (<3) they humored him with a medical-- and found something really troubling. Or maybe he went in of his own accord, the old flutter, or maybe it was just a routine checkup. Either way he got some very serious news, so sorry old boy, just one of those things, could be any day now-- best make sure your affairs are all in order.

Hence the single-minded desire to meet, once last time. Everyone else clearly drove-- did he walk all the way from the train station, down the country lanes? Did he feel a little short of breath scaling all those walls? Did every set-back and stressor make him more determined-- just give me a little more time, just a little more time...

It could also be that he just got yelled at so hard he died of it, which is almost certainly how I will go, but that was my immediate impression and it has not left me, nor have I known peace. I know there's a few holes in my theory but I haven't talked myself out of it yet. For me the kicker is that he experiences at least ten devastating emotions in the last moments of his life, but "surprise at entering cardiac arrest" does not appear to be one of them. It looks more like grim acceptance. Stoic in the face of death-- a soldier to the end.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #the captain #I will be so embarrassed if I wasnt watching closely enough #and this is all explicitly text no one thought to comment on because duh #but I didn't see it in the tags and I think I might explode just thinking about it #I have mooooooooore thoughts and you will hear them!#ghosts season 5

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genderlessdude92 · 1 month

Text

HEAVENLY DRINKS

CHAPTER 2

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PAIRINGS: Alastor x F!Reader

SUMMARY: In this chapter, the protagonist finds themselves in a confrontation with Alastor, known as the Radio Demon. Vox, another character, intervenes, leading to a tense exchange. Later, the protagonist returns home, reflecting on their fame and current situation. Alastor is just annoying.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Mature Content, Sensitivity, Alcohol use, like HEAVY, (It was noted in the intro that reader is an alcoholic but gets better throughout the story), Verbal Altercations, Implied Violence, Character Behavior, Sexual References, News Media, Emotional Turmoil, Cliffhanger.

NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^ Posting chapter every friday but this one is early! Asks are always open, but i can’t get to all of them at the same exact time so if yours is answered right away…You might be lucky 🙏

WORDS: 2.9k

HEAVENLY DRINKS MASTERLIST

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

The waitress squeaked out of fear and ran to Lucifer knows where, clearing the space of view between you two.

‘Fuckin’ wimp.” You thought.

��No manners these days, am i wrong?” The deer said, turning his head to face yours.

You snapped out of your trance, “Uh…I was doing just fine my myself.”

“I could tell.” he smirked, “You must be pretty desperate to drink every single type of liquor in here.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he replied, “For starters, you were naming those liquors from the top of your head like the songs in your albums..”

You only blinked.

“Secondly, you’re dressed like a prostitute. Thirdly, you’re not even wearing a bra,” He cleared his throat, “Fo-”

“What gives you the fuckin’ right to call me out like that?!” You argue, “Do you know who I am, fuckin’ asshat?!”

Alastor’s demeanor shifted more eerie, along with the lights in the establishment, “Do you know who I am?” He retorted, “I think somebody needs a quick lesson since they’ve missed some classes, shall we?” He asked, sizing up his form.

You snarled, “You cocky…”

“What the fuck is going on here?!” A loud voice yelled from the entrance.

Both of your heads turned to meet a vision on Vox standing at the entrance, clearly fuming.

“…Why the fuck-“ He points his claw to you, “are you doing he-“ He then snaps his like of view to Alastor, “I-what the fuck?!”

You started to laugh like a child, only now you were a drunk-full-grown-not-mentally-stable-and-not-currently-alive-adult.

Until Alastor slapped you on the back of your head to stop.

“My office, now!”

***

Vox’s office was dimly lit, with soft jazz music playing in the background. The walls were adorned with paintings of various musicians, and shelves lined with books and trophies. A large desk dominated the room, with a sleek computer monitor and stacks of papers piled high on its surface.

Alastor sat across from Vox, observing the scene before him. He seemed to find this situation amusing for some reason.

But you certainly didn’t.

This was not how you wanted your first day out to go.

“What do you want from me?” Alastor asked, his tone casual. “I’m already banned from this fine establishment, am i not?” He chortled.

“That’s the fuckin’ problem,” He slammed his fist on the desk, “I don’t even know why i bothered to bring you in here.” He growled.

Vox then shifted his eyes to you, “-and you.” he added, “You shouldn’t even be showing your face here. do you know how mad i am at you?!” He yelled in your face sparks igniting in his antennas.

“…What.” You gave him a droopy smile.

He groaned, “How much drinks did she have, fuckin’ hell-“

“-34, my good sir.” Alastor intervened.

You chuckled, “No, i had like, 4 shots.”

“Well, you must be mistaken, because i counted 34 drinks.” Alastor corrected, bending his neck slightly.

“Wh-hold on, why were you watch-“

“Enough! That is not what we are talking about.” Vox yelled, standing up from his seat to show authority.

After a surprising moment of silence, he continued, “Y/N, You literally vanished from sight a day before we had a massive show planned at my convention center,” Vox answered, sitting back down, “I know you weren’t told that you aren’t welcome here, but you aren’t and it should be obvious.”

You stayed silent for a moment, getting sober by the second. How long ago was that?

“…Sorry.” You crossed your arms.

“Now you see how none of you are allowed here?” He folded his hands on his desk, looking down and sighing in stress.

“…Yeah, yeah.” You said.

***

Walking out of the building, you jumped slightly when you felt a claw on your shoulder.

“You really don’t remember who I am, little lady?” Alastor said, turning your shoulders to face him.

You looked up slowly, relaxing the alcohol in your body, “No, i know you. Just thought it was funny.” You put a hand on your hip. “You used to put my songs in your broadcast in intermissions, if i remember correctly”

He laughed, “My highest point of listeners.” He grinned.

“I don’t remember much, though,” You admitted, scratching your cheek. “Kinda what i was wanting las’ couple of years.”

“I’d imagine.” He replied, “Drinking every night for forty years isn’t healthy, even for someone like you.” He scoffed, still

plastering the same grin on his face.

“wh- ‘someone like me?’” You questioned.

He sighed, “Look, i know you haven’t been seen for a while, but that doesn’t mean that we forgot about you, if that’s what you’ve been wanting.” He clarified, “You’re a well known woman, but you’ve had…issues since you were alive.”

“good way to bring down the mood,” You scoffed, “i thought we were just getting along, y’know?”

He laughed, “That would be a headline, for sure.”

You tilted your head in confusion, “You’re weird.”

“You’re drunk.” He claimed back.

You growled, about to bite back, but he cut you off, “It seems our time here is up,” He said, now looking at his watch (that clearly does not exist) on his wrist, “My radio show starts in little over ten minutes. Ta-Ta!” He waved goodbye, walking past you.

You began to walk over to him, to give some piece of mind to him, but he then materialized into the shadow.

“Piece of trash…” You muttered, beginning to walk away from the building.

***

As you unlocked the door to your manor, you can’t help but wonder why, after all these years, people still remembered you?

You stepped inside, kicking your heels off.

That was the whole point in rotting in this trash bin, anyways. You couldn’t have all this fame, it wasn’t ethical.

You tossed your fur coat into the laundry room.

And on top of that, you were banned from one of your favorite places. who the fuck does that? He’s just jealous-

You plopped your body onto the plush couch, not bothering about the feeling of your dress riding up your thighs, as you would’ve.

“-yeah, jealous,” You said aloud, “He’s a fucking television, I’m full bodied. I’m a legend and he’s just a piece of trash.”

you scavenged around the coffe table’s under-cabinets until you found a half empty bottle of wine-

…and let’s not forget that stupid deer.

“After all the fucking fame i probably got him, he just treats me like imp-shit. I was just tryna be friendly, start a little fake fight, but noooo-“

You took a large swig of your bottle.

“He just had to get me in trouble, embarrass me, and walk away as if nothing fucking happened.”

You sighed.

You looked at the bottle that was now empty.

…And think if… you did this to yourself?

“…Nah.”

You take off your jewelry, take off your clothes until you were in a bra and panties, and sprawl yourself on your couch, reaching for the remote and turning on your television.

“He’s probably getting… bullied on the news or somethin’.” You muttered to yourself, laughing softly.

Swapping through news networks-

…Oh fuck.

“Famous singer and dancer star from back in the day, Y/N (or stage name idk), Has returned to the bustling streets of the pentagram after 40 fucking years of an absence!” Katie said clenching her script sheet in hand with a shit-eating smile on her face.

You always felt bad for that other guy next to her…

-That’s not the point.

“…apparently, she got into a little fight with the infamous Radio Demon we all know and hate, Alastor! Talk about the conversation of a 40 years!” She added as a laughing track played.

You cringed, “Fuckin’ bitch.”

“But that’s not all! Apparently, this has caused quite the uproar among the fans of the two. Some are worried that our beloved star may never return to performing again, and is just scavenging for some drinks and dicks! While others are ecstatic that she has finally reappeared after such a long time.”

“…Fucking hell, m’ not dealing with this.”

“In other news-”

You turned off the tv, tossing your remote onto the floor.

“Her boobs are so fuckin’ fake, I hate that bitch.” You ranted, Stretching your back and staring at the ceiling.

“…Let’s see, ok…I’m out of books to read.” You noted, “…No more alcohol in this stupid jail cell of a shit hole…” You noted as well, “…and I’m all over the news now…”

After a moment of contemplating life, you sit up again and go to your room.

“I should go to another bar…a really expensive one…” You muttered, immediately rummaging through your closet.

“…I have a lot of money anyways…” You grinned, “Probably more than that stupid dear. I could probably hunt him and eat him…it would taste…” You looked down to your naked body for a moment, thinking, “…like…if it were medium rare, really good…”

“-What was that?” a static voice asked from across the walk-in closet.

“What the fuck?!-“ You turned around, covering your boobs, “How the fuck did you get into my house, pervert?!”

“I’m sorry, dear. But I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Alastor said, crossing his arms, “And for the record, I’m far from a pervert.” He said, squinting his eyes.

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” You demanded.

“Well, you see-“

“No, no. No explanations. Get the fuck out of my house, perverted demon!” You yelled, throwing a shoe at him.

He caught it without effort and stared at you with his red eyes, “Excuse me? You…just asked me why I was-“

You narrowed your eyes, “Oh my gosh, you are so annoying, i can do see how Vox hates you now…” You groan, looking for a robe.

“…You know,” he began as you continued to search, “There’s a saying that goes along the lines of, ‘Drunk men say wise words’ I believe?” He questioned aloud to himself, “…I don’t think that goes for women.”

As you tied a robe around your waist you put your hands on your hips and looked at him. “What are you doing here.” You asked.

“…” Alastor waited silently.

“…Like…actually.” You clarified.

Alastor nodded, “I came to make sure you were alright.” He said simply, “You were rather intoxicated earlier today.”

“…”

“…And you were also not wearing anything under the dress, it kept slipping off.” He added, adding an awkward laugh to it.

“…”

“…So, naturally, I was concerned for your safety.” He finished.

“…”

“…Was it something I said?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“…”

“…Or maybe it was the fact that you threw your shoes at me.” He stated bluntly.

“…Wait- why would it be about the shoes?”

Alastor smiled, “Never mind, it sounds much nicer in here when it’s down one voice.”

You scoffed, “What the fuck is your problem? didn’t you come over here to check in on me?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

You rolled your eyes, “Then why are you acting like an ass all the sudden.”

“Actually…” He pondered for a moment, “…I was hoping you would… join me for dinner.” He replied casually.

You raised a brow, “Dinner?”, You said flatly, crossing your arms.

“Yes,” Alastor confirmed. “I’ve…prepared a special meal for us to enjoy together.”

“…That’s so mean.”

“…What…what do you mean?-“

“You’re just tryna get me to not go to a fuckin’ bar.”

He laughed blandly, “You are very wise, my lady.” He claimed, “But, may i remind you that a free dinner cost less than putting another 34 drinks onto your tab?”

You looked at him confused, but then realized something that disgusted you, “Are you gonna feed me cannibal food?”

He laughed, “For you, I’m sure it’s your favorite meal, but for me, yes, it is a cannibal meal.”

“…What-“

“Medium rare deer?”

You gasped, “Stalker! I fuckin’ knew it!” You claimed, getting another shoe from the ground and getting ready to throw it.

“Don’t!-“ He grabbed the shoe from your drunken-soft grip, “-you dare.”

“…Just don’t go to the bar,” He sighed as if taking care of a toddler, “I’m doing you a favor.”

“-And why would the Radio Demon care?”

“…It’s not pity,” he began, “…I just get second hand embarrassment seeing you drunk.” He grimaced.

“Nah, you just want me and not want anybody else to check me out.” You grinned, turning around to rummage through clothes again.

“Excuse me?” He said, offended, “I don’t view you that way whatsoever.”

“It’s okay, I worked hard for my glutes.” You slugged out a laugh, “Plastic balls wouldn’t look good in my skin.”

Alastor let his disgust cease for a moment before sighing, “I’m leaving. But,” He pulled out a pen from out of nowhere and wrote something down on a piece of paper, that also appeared out of nowhere, and handed it to you when done. “-If you ever need anything. You know, since you’re so vulnerable outside right now, I’ll be at this location.”

‘Hazbin Hotel, Morningstar District.’ It read.

“I’m not vulnerable, I’m just really hot and everybody wants me.”

“…Ugh, okay,” Alastor said to himself, “I’m out. Goodbye, Y/N. Until we meet again.”

And he was gone with the shadows.

You sighed, “Probably still watching me.”, you said aloud, pulling out a black silk dress from the mountainous pile on clothes beneath you.

***

You awoke in the morning to a pounding headache.

You groaned, rubbing your temples as you sat up and opened your eyes.

Your gaze fell upon the empty bottles of liquor strewn across the room and a wave of regret washed over you.

“…At least I decided to buy more.” You said to yourself, sitting up as you yawned and stretched.

Your eyes drifted towards the nightstand next to the bed and saw a glass of water and some painkillers.

You smiled softly, thankful for the kind gesture your past self gave you.

You popped the pills in your mouth and drank the entire glass, feeling slightly better after the medicine kicked in.

You looked at the clock on your wall, seeing that it was only 7 am.

Sighing, you get out of bed, ignoring the fact that your entire outfit from last night was still on (including the heels), You stalked your way over the kitchen to make some hangover stew

After a few minutes of chopping, mixing, and boiling, you finally had a bowl of hangover soup in front of you.

You took a bite and moaned.

It tasted delicious, as usual from your cooking.

And decided to turn the TV on.

Which was a bad idea.

Many news channels reporting on the Pride Ring were showing pictures of you and Alastor at the bar and outside the building-

“Could this be the relationship of the century or a big fluke?” The news reporter asked the audience-

Switch.

“-Another soul for Alastor to collect? Find out more after-“

Switch.

“-Personally, I wouldn’t date her if i was him, yeah?” The television guest claimed to the news reporter now on screen.

…what?

“I mean, look at her. Her boobs are flat and her ass looks fake. I mean, she could’ve at least had some surgery happen in those 40 years or bought some pads for bras.” He added, making the reporter laugh-

Click. Off.

You slammed the remote down and groaned.

You had just gotten out of a 40-year-long-hangover and now the world wants to talk shit about your body?

And you?

Great.

This was a great start to the day.

You got up, grabbing a bottle of wine from the table and taking a swig, feeling the burning sensation in your throat and the dizziness in your brain.

“…What am i doing to myself.” You said, looking at the bottle.

“…I should go to town and find a fuckin’ news reporter,” You claimed, placing the wine on the coffee table, “Fuckin’ rumors spreadin’ like that guy’s ass…” You trotted to your room to find an outfit.

You stopped, looking at your outfit from last Night, “…or jus’ fix my makeup.”

***

Strutting into the heart of Pentagram City, this was probably your first time appreciating how much eyes were on you and those…’phones.’ (which you found out the name from the television.)

You walked with confidence, but also with a little bit of embarrassment.

But mostly confidence.

You looked around, taking in the sights of the bustling city and the sounds of people chatting and laughing and yelling.

Alastor submerged from the shadows next to you, walking by your side.

“Enjoying the outside, my fellow homebody?” He asked with a grin.

“Not now, Alastor.” You said, scanning the area.

“Now, What’s gotten you so worked up with smarts?” He asked like a babysitter, “Haven’t seen you this focused since…never!” He laughed.

You scoffed, “Some guy dared to insult me on live television.” You answered, “Called me flat on my Himalaya’s.”

“…Your what’s?” He asked.

“My boobs, Alastor… they’re not that flat are they?”

I’m not answering that question.” He announced.

You pouted.

“Think of the headlines, dear.”

“…Yeah, you’re right.” You shrugged.

“So,” Alastor started, “Anything i could do to help?” He asked, clenching his cane in curiosity.

“…I needa find a popular News station. So i can announce my…opinions n’ stuff.” You said, “a popular one around these parts.”

Alastor thinked for a moment, “…Ever suggested to yourself…Vox 2 Nite?”

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NOTES: CHAPTER TWO IS OUT AND EARLY?! Guys the Alastor x Reader tumblr community is dead rn I need people to like RISE FROM THE DEAD and get their friends who also thrive here like…do their job??? Show support??? Requests??? NOTES??? COMMENTS??? ahem, Anyways, I’m proud of this chapter, It’s gonna get better though, there is spicy material coming, but you guys just have to be patient <3, support is appreciated, Love you guys!!!

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki!

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HEAVENLY DRINKS MASTERLIST

OTHER WORKS

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TAGLIST:

@martinys-world

@sirens-and-moonflowers

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COMMENT TO BE APART OF THE TAGLIST!! HAVE A NICE DAY BAII!!! ;3

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you

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zuricu · 1 year

Text

Sub!Dallas Winston Fem!Reader

My first post thought I'd spoil you. *wink*

Fem!Reader Just because of female anatomy- mentioned once I think?

WARNINGS: Smut, praise, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, submissive/soft dom, drunken sex, edging, unprotected sex, I think that's It? If there's anything I missed lmk

It was a usual Friday night. We were at Buck's, playing pool and getting drunk. Dallas was winning our game, I thought I had a chance this round but Dallas nearly cleaned the table on his first shot. I won't lie, he's pretty good at this game.

He smoked me in the game so I decided it was only suitable to go out and take a smoke break. I made my way outside to stand outside of the building. It wasn't warm out but it wasn't cold either, merely a pleasant temperature. I was only out there for about ten minutes but when I returned Dal was beyond drunk. He fumbled while walking and slurred his words.

"Fuck it," I say while grabbing onto his arm, I drag him to the bar and order some more drinks for myself. I down them and make sure we get to Dal's room before it hits.

"I'm like..." He pauses, his words not really making much sense. "Sooooo fucking in love with youuuuu..."

I kiss him, gently, but as Dallas is Dallas, we eventually begin to make out. Our lips, even though drunken, move simultaneously. He tastes like sweat, whiskey, and beer. The taste is undeniably attractive, even though it may not seem like it. His tongue presses up against my lips eventually so I open them, giving them somewhere to go. My hands, which were on his neck, trail down to his chest. This leads to his hips and then the hem of his shirt. I grasp the cotton fabric and pull it over his head after our lips part. My clothes soon found their way off, leaving me only in my undergarments. I push him over to the bed and lay him down. I adjust myself on top of him and start trailing hickeys down his neck and chest. He giggles, which I take as a sign to start teasing him some. I kiss his lips again, but now I'm in control, I bite down on his lower lip. It starts to bleed a little bit so I take my thumb and wipe it away, I kiss it again but much softer.

"You want this, Dal?" I ask him, he answers eagerly.

I begin to add some friction in our lower half, and his still being in his jeans made him upset. He groans in annoyance, I make sure not to give him what he wants. I place my hand on his chin so that it's resting on my index finger and being held still with my thumb, I maneuver his face to make him look me in the eyes.

"You're so goddamn pretty, Dallas," I coo. "Your eyes are so beautiful." I take my hand from his chin to his ear and down his neck into the middle of his pecs. I press my nail into his skin, not enough to cause pain but enough to cause discomfort. I continue until I get to his V line and trace down the right side. He lets out a noise, letting me know my job is being done well. I palm the growing bulge in his pants. "Is this for me?" I ask, already knowing the answer. All he does is nod. "Use your words, baby."

"Yes," He admits. "It's all for you, everything I do is for you." I give him a peck on the lips for his answer.

"Aww," I babble. "You're so cute." I begin to rub what's mine. He shifts around from all of the sudden movement. "Enjoying this?"

"No- Yes," He says. "Yes, I am, just please take them off."

"I'll comply, you've been so sweet, baby," I take his jeans off, along came his underwear and I begin to stroke his dick. Slowly, up and down, teasing the tip every so often. I do this cycle until I start to feel him twitch, give him a break, and do it again. This happens a few times until he's had enough of it.

"P...please..." He pleads.

"What, baby?" I act clueless. "You need to tell me what."

"Please let me cum, thas' all I want, Doll," His eyes squinted from the pain of being edged.

"That's all you want?" I ask. "You don't want me?"

"Oh, God! Yes, I want you, I want you so bad! Please! Please fuck me until I cum, Doll."

"I guess I have to, now." I giggle.

I slipped my panties off and lined myself up with his dick, before I could slide down, he thrust into me, eager to get what he wants. I bounce up and down as he thrusts.

"Dallas!" I cry "Dallas I love you so much, baby." My stomach gets tangled with the thought of my oncoming orgasm.

"Doll, I'm gonna cum, hold me please, babe, please." I oblige and grab ahold of him and we cum at the same time. I quickly remove myself from him and throw myself next to him.

"We are gonna have such a hangover, sweets," I announce.

"No fuckin' shit."

"I'll be right back," I tell him, grabbing sweats and a tee from his drawer and heading to the washroom. I do my business, clean up, and get dressed. On my way out I grab Dallas some of his clothes and throw them at him, prompting him to put them on. After he did I plop back into bed and lay next to him. I curl next to him. "You did a good job baby."

"I'm glad I did, Sugartits," I laugh at the nickname and ruffle his hair.

"Your eyes really are pretty, Babe."

"That doesn't compare to everything about you," he tried being sweet but I ignore his notions, not that I didn't want to hear them.

"Your smile, too," I remark. "It's sad I don't see it more often, but love makes up for it." He smiled at what I said, I know what I'm saying doesn't actually make any sense but I really love everything about him. "You aren't perfect in any Goddamn way but, God, you're all I need."

#dallas winston #the outsiders #submisive #sub!dallas winston #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #dally winston x reader #dally x reader #dallas winston smut #x reader #the outsiders smut

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eclairfromleclerc · 1 year

Text

Hello everyone. It’s been a long long time since I posted here but I guess life has caught up. I have been writing this chapter for god knows how long because I just couldn’t bring myself to write certain scenes. I still have so many ideas and directions about where this fic can go but as you understand, I need my time to actually try and write those ideas. I am now giving you the 8th chapter of this story which is a generous 14.6 K words to make up for my long long absence. I really hope there will be people still interested to read this. Always keep in mind that english isn’t my native language so pardon any mistakes or inclarities. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait patiently for the next part. Take Care, xx.

All’s Fair

(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 8

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

Landing in Jeddah feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, after closing the deal with the Bahraini investors from your Monday meeting, is the only thing you could have asked for. Nothing has been bothering you for the past few days but the fact that Christian still hasn't said anything about you being late to your meeting, made you feel a little weird. Your little text exchanges with Toto made up for the whole madness.

As soon as your phone connects to the network you see a new notification popping up.

Christian Dad Horner

No need to come over today, I got everything scheduled for the press, me and Helmut will handle it

Get some rest.

You raise your eyebrow reading , not knowing what your father is up to. Is he drunk? Is he out of his mind? You lock your phone and get off the plane. You check in your hotel, go to your room and settle in. As you take your clothes off your suitcase you find once again Toto’s Mercedes shirt in it and you take it out and put it on a hanger and in your closet. Thursdays are supposed to be a fun day in the paddock because of all the media and generally relaxed vibe that everyone has. The fact that no sessions take place on Thursdays doesn’t mean everyone isn’t working hard but still Christian thought your presence was not necessary, so here you are. Your phone rings with a new notification

Wolff

What’s your schedule for the press today?

You

Christian told me he and Helmut will handle it, I won’t be joining today

I am just bored, sitting in my hotel room

You open the camera on the app and snap a picture of your computer on your bed and some snacks nearby and you hit send

Wolff

So you get to relax.

Enjoy it for all of us who have to work

You

Will do :)

You spend the rest of your day in your room and meet Max to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. Much less eventful for a usual race week Thursday.

The next day you wake up, have breakfast and get ready to leave for the track. You check you have everything you need with you including your iPad and your badge to get in the paddock and you drive the Aston Martin, you lease for the weekend, to the track. You get to the entrance and scan your badge. To your surprise the screen in front of you shows a red cross and a message saying ‘Access Denied’. You try once again but the same message appears. You reach for your phone to call Christian to get you from the entrance. You wait for a couple of seconds before you hear his voice, the noise from the garage familiar to your ears.

“Hey Dad”

“Hello” you hear him answering

“It seems like my pass isn’t working, can you please come here and let me through?” you ask

“Oh I am quite busy right now sweetheart.”

“Can you send someone else instead?”

“Um, I am sorry I have to tell you this but there’s a reason why your pass isn’t working.”

“What ?”

“It is going to remain like this for sometime, before I trust you to come back to the team”

“Did you cancel my pass because of what happened on Monday?”

“You should have been ready for this. I can’t discuss it more right now, we are having a meeting before FP1”

“Can you at least let me know about the meeting?”

“No, you are not in the team currently so, nothing to share. Feel free to fly back to England or Monaco with the next flight you find” Christian tells you and then ends the call.

Thank god you thought about moving a bit further from the entrance so no one heard your discussion with your father. You feel a rush of anger coming at you but you hold yourself and walk as gracefully as you can back to your car, as people are watching you. You drive off the track and you pull over at the first parking space you see. You sit there in silence, since you were so confused that you didn’t even think to put some of your playlists on, and you try to realize what is happening. You let out a scream and tears roll over your face as you think of your father and all his five year old antics. But then you get the best and the worst idea you could possibly come up with. You drive fast back to your hotel and you run to your suite. You open the closet, grab Toto’s Mercedes shirt, stuff it in your new bag that you haven’t worn in public, put on some tight black pants, some flat shoes and search furiously for that Mercedes face mask that Toto gave you that day in your travel bag. You get back to your car and drive to the track again, pulling over to wear the shirt and making yourself look like a mercedes employee. You leave the car a bit farther than usual so that fans don’t recognize you coming out of the car with the Mercedes gear. You once again walk to the paddock entrance. Hair tied on a bun, face mask and huge Gucci sunglasses covering your face. You get there not having thought of a way to get in. So you go with your instincts.

“Hey” you say to the security guard.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

“Um, I am a new employee for Mercedes but I can’t seem to find my badge to get in.” you say with the best American accent that you have. Not that it mattered since the guard was Saudi Arabian. “Can you maybe call Mr. Wolff to come here? I’ll explain the situation to him”

“I’ll reach Mr Lord.” he says

“No, no. You should call Mr.Wolff instead. I am not sure Mr. Lord is aware of my arrival here.”

“I’ll try to call Mr. Wolff then.”

5 minutes later you see the Austrian walking to the entrance of the paddock and on his way there he waves to people, greets others and takes some photos.

He goes to the security guard that called him

“What is it?” he asks

“This lady claimed that she’s a new employee for your team but she seems to have lost her badge, she insisted that I should call you instead of Mr. Lord.”

Toto turns to look at you and you don’t hesitate. If you are going to get in, this is your chance.

“Hello Mr. Wolff. My name is Mindy Roosevelt, I am here from the American branch of Daimler.” you say-again in your american accent- not being even 1% sure that you are making any sense. “I was sent here to assist you but it has been a really tricky week for me.” you look at Toto and he looks as confused as ever. “I was supposed to be here yesterday but my flight was canceled so I had to travel to Abu Dhabi to catch a connecting flight.” you try to give him hints of who you are, not being sure he understands. “ I had to look for the advisor of Daimler US Anri Hakkassan to give me my badge but then my wallet got stolen at the airport so I was left without a badge and my ID to show you who I am.” you see Toto’s eyes getting wider and wider as he realizes who you are. Your story seemed convincing for the security guard but Toto can’t leave you outside. He takes a deep breath

“Ah yes miss Roosevelt I was waiting for you all day. Sorry to hear this. Come on.” he says and signals to the guard to let you through. You walk in the paddock and to the Mercedes hospitality, Toto not hesitating for a minute at the thought of you coming from another team. As soon as you both get in you see Bradley drinking coffee in the main lounge area of the motorhome and he greets you.

“I don’t want anyone bothering me for the next half an hour at least” he says to Bradley and he walks to his office as you follow him closely. You close the door behind you and Toto reaches and locks it. You take off your mask trying to apologize for the mess you’ve created.

“I am so sorry Toto” you say and you hear him laugh

“What is this?” he asks as he continues laughing

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I am just wondering how the hell you got yourself in this situation.”

“Christian blocked my paddock pass��

“He did what?” he asks looking slightly amused

“This isn’t funny Toto, you know how much I love being in the team”

“That’s why you are hijacking my team?” he asks

“Christian thought that removing me from the team for a couple of races is a good way to punish me for being late at that meeting we had.”

“He did it just because you were 35 minutes late?”

“You don’t realize Christian has a mind of a five year old when it’s about work right?”

“You said the investors were not mad that you were late, you even managed to charm them into signing a deal.”

“Yeah but Christian was mad, and he says it’s not about the investment, it’s about basic work ethic. Anyways, I can’t buy a paddock pass because I am not the type to sit in the lounge to watch the race. I need to be in the team. Plus I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me depressed because I am not at the pitwall or the garage.”

“How stubborn.”

“Yeah I am.”

“That’s very Horner of you.” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his obvious reference to your father’s stubbornness.

“You are my only chance Toto, the other teams don’t even have a reason to accept me, except from Alpha Tauri, but I can’t go begging Franz about a paddock pass when he is clearly influenced by my dad.”

“Why are we even your only chance, we are your main competitors.” he asks

“I swear to god Toto I will do anything just to be here until Christian decides to drop the farce that he started. I will sign an NDA, I will keep my mouth shut about anything I see, I will delete it from my mind. Just let me be in the garage for the next few races.”

“How many races?” he looks at you

“I don’t know 3 maybe 4?” you tell him barely whispering.

“That’s a lot.” he replies “But for you I’ll try to do my best.”

You try not to scream as you stand up from your seat, walk to his chair and hug him. You catch him off guard as he widens his eyes but then you feel his tension leaving him.

“From now on you are Mindy Roosvelt and you came here to assist me as a part of your internship at Daimler US. You studied in New York, and you are American. You don’t know for how many races you’ll be here but it’s not long term.” Toto says taking his teacher look

“Understood.”

“You should never remove your mask in front of others, just tell them that you are at risk or something. Don’t wear high heels. We should do something about your hair so that people won’t realize it’s you and I advise you to wear sunglasses as much as possible, I’ll have Lewis hand me his collection from the Police Collaboration.”

“I’ll buy a wig. Can I have some more shirts and a couple of masks?”

“Is this shirt mine?” he asks and you nod “Looks good on you.” he says

“I’ll use yours then.” you tell him and you see him grinning.

“I’ll have someone send you a couple of shirts, pants and shoes. I'll request your new paddock pass and I will be printing your NDA.”

“If anything leaks into Red Bull I swear I’ll be the first to go to court even if I am innocent.” you tell him and he laughs “Don’t laugh, I need you to see how serious I am about this. I won’t be saying anything to anyone.”

“I trust you. The NDA part is only about the team having to be legally protected.”

“Okay” you say

“Your office must be ready. It’s just the room next door, please lock it when you’re in.” he advises you “And please don’t forget your American accent once you go outside.”

“I won’t forget. If we happen to see Christian around, just stay calm, I’ll handle it.”

“Okay” he says and you sit in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I’ll go next door now.” you say and you stand up. “Oh sorry Toto, can I ask you about one last thing?”

“What is it?”

“Christian told me that I am free to leave with the next flight so I will be checking out of the hotel and I thought maybe I should be at the Mercedes hotel?”

“I’ll arrange it. See you later.” he replies as you put on your mask and go to the room next door.

20 minutes later you hear the door knocking, you stand up and reach for it

“Who is this?”

“Miss Roosevelt, I am Mariah. Mr. Wolff gave me something for you.”

You put your mask on and open the door

“Come on in.” you tell her and she steps into your fake office

“I have this new iPad for you, Toto wanted you to have this. It has all of the passwords you’ll need and direct access to Toto’s schedule so you’ll know where you will be going and what you’ll be doing.”

“What passwords are there?”

“Company email, team communications and private accounts.”

“Okay thank you Mariah.”

“If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ask me, have a nice day.” she tells you and she leaves the office as you lock the door and remove your mask

You reach for your phone and text Toto

You

Didn’t need to have access to all of this

Wolff

You have to If we are planning this lie correctly.

I also sent you the details on your company email about the hotel room. I arranged it.

You

Give me a minute I’ll have to get used to all of this.

The iPad is nice, I’ll give it back once I get all the details.

Wolff

Adaptability is key

Keep the iPad I don’t want you walking around the paddock with your old one, it’s practically a part of your looks, everyone will realize it’s you

Wolff

Anyways gotta work, I will be in the garage with Nyck for FP1, you’re welcome to hang by the fantasy island if you ever get the energy.

For any question just text or call.

You sit around for a while until your phone rings with a new notification from your calendar for the session starting in 5 minutes and as soon as you get it you stand up and leave for the garage. This time though it feels different. You used to take all your stuff with you in your pit wall seat but now there’s no pitwall seat, you’ll be just standing next to Toto, in the garage. You never got to stay in the garage, Christian always made sure you had a place at the pitwall, the garage was essentially a passage to get from the hospitality to the pitwall. You never spent a whole session in there, but now you will. The difference is the garage is not the one you are used to. It’s the Mercedes one and it’s clean, organized and much more hospitable than the one at Red Bull. At the long entrance of the garage there’s someone looking at you, making sure that you’re one of them. Little does he know, you think.

“I am looking for Mr. Wolff.” you tell him

“He’s sat at the fantasy island with Nyck. You’ll see them once you get in.”

And you certainly do. The fantasy island splits the garage in two smaller ones for the two drivers of Mercedes, you get next to Toto and you don’t say a word. You look around you trying to take everything in, how the garage looks, how everyone is focused on what they’re doing and Toto next to you trying to manage everything that’s happening. He’s too far in to realize that you’re next to him and he nearly jumps as you touch his arm.

“Sorry” you say quietly behind your mask.

“It’s okay, I never realized that you came.”

“Well, I couldn’t turn down the proposal, plus I am supposed to be your assistant so I have to be with you.”

“I am not complaining.” he says and thank god Nyck is too busy chatting with Bradley next to you. Bradley hasn’t asked anything about you, he just keeps looking and staring at you but he’s not saying anything.

For the next half an hour you see Lewis and George doing their laps, coming and leaving the garage during the session but during all this time you realize that you haven’t looked at the RedBull’s performances. The Mercedes garage felt like home for some reason. You weren’t doing nothing, you were just standing with your headphones on hearing comments about the car that you swear to yourself that you will never reveal to your team. Next to you Toto sits and watches the whole team working like a well oiled machine that he engineered. You are sure that he feels proud of himself, he has that grin on his face that makes you think so. You don’t know him really well but you have learned to pick some of those signs from the times that you’ve seen him around or that you’ve hung out with him. Again all of your thoughts are interrupted by a vibration from your pocket where your phone is. Goddamn it. Another calendar reminder but this time it is from Toto’s calendar that you’ve managed to sync to your iPhone earlier.

Meeting: Team Principals, FIA and F1. (1 assistant is allowed to attend)

You widen your eyes at the notification and you tap Toto’s shoulder who is watching the timings and the data in front of him. He turns to look at you and removes the headphone from your side. You do the same but you realize Nyck is looking at you.

“Sir, I just got a notification about your meeting with the F1 and FIA execs.”

“It is half an hour after the session ends right?”

“Yes but am I required to attend?” you ask

“Miss Roosevelt I believe that you were asked to be here as my assistant so since the meeting allows assistants it is your duty to be there.”

“Okay Mr. Wolff” you say and put your headphones back on to watch the rest of the session.

“If you feel uncomfortable just excuse yourself and leave.” he turns and tells you and you nod.

After the session in which your cars -yes, Mercedes cars- finish 1 and 3 you leave the garage and go back to the hospitality while waiting for Toto to finish his press duties.

Wolff

I am done with my interviews, meet you outside our hospitality in 5?

You

Yes, I will be there.

You leave and find him at the spot he told you to. You walk side by side to the race control building where the meeting is supposed to take place, him towering over you and you feeling miniscule beside him. When you are just outside Alpha Tauri’s garage you see your dad discussing with Franz and you roll your eyes praying that they will just let you go by. You get temporarily relieved when you are already past them but of course Christian has to talk to you. The man is trouble without trying. You hear him yelling “Hey Toto” from your back and you turn to face him. Toto frowns a bit but his expressions are mostly covered by his sunglasses.

“Are you heading to the meeting?” Christian asks

“We are, yes.” Toto replies as you keep walking, Christian catching up with you. You take a sharp breath trying to persuade yourself that he won’t understand who you are. You’ve got your face covered after all.

“I’ll join you.” Christian announces not even asking Toto who is clearly getting angrier. “I don’t believe we’ve met before” he says and turns to you.

You freeze but you regain your strength and reply to him “No, we actually haven't.”

“I am Christian Horner, team principal of Red Bull Racing.”

“Mindy Roosevelt, nice to meet you.” you say in your best American accent hoping that you won’t get recognized.

“And you work for Mercedes I see. Let me guess’ Public Relations?”

“No, I am here to assist Mr. Wolff for a couple of races, it is something like an internship from the American branch of Daimler.”

“I figured from the accent that you might be American.” Christian replies “Are you planning on staying at Daimler or leaving to get a job at motorsport?”

“I don’t know yet I’ll see where it gets me.” you answer

“If you plan on staying here please text me your details, I got a very interesting assistant position for you.”

“You had your daughter as your assistant from the beginning of the season, what happened to her?” you ask, trying to understand what he’s doing but you hear his phone ringing.

“It’s complicated with her, I need something stable, and I know Wolff always gets the best of the best so I might have to get a taste.” he replies as Toto, who was silent before, scoffs in the background. Christian checks his phone and excuses himself as he runs back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding as you are walking to the meeting.

“Red Bull will be trying to have technical directives for the next few races to try and stop us.” Toto says.

“I know, I built that case and all the arguments. I know exactly what to say to convince the FIA in favor of Red Bull.” you reply “Can I talk during the meeting?” you ask

“What do you mean talk?”

“Like defending our team’s points, why technical directives shouldn’t be changed, and counterarguments.”

“No, your role is the one of the assistant, not the meeting participant. You will only be allowed there to keep notes.”

“I can write my points to you and you can read them and elaborate more, can’t I?”

“Yes, you can write notes for me to read.”

“Nice, let’s get no regulation change for today.”

“Isn’t this bad for Red Bull?”Toto asks

“Right now I am working for Mercedes, and Mercedes is only treating me right.” you answer

Toto raises his eyebrows “I am both flattered and surprised by the fact that you want to favor us.”

“You know what Toto? I am tired of thinking how Christian and Helmut will be using my case to present in this meeting. I worked hard for this and I was supposed to present my point. This meeting was supposed to be my first one.”

“Didn’t you go when you were younger?”

“No, I didn’t Christian always had his assistant with him and never managed to get me in even when I started working part-time for him. It is frustrating to see how your own father looks to replace you at a job. And now the team that I accidentally got in, even has the ability to read my notes and present a solid case.”

Toto doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you, his body language revealing that he is scared to say anything to you.

“Am I really that bad?” you ask

“No. Don’t you ever say that again. You were great, you got a deal with some investors, you helped run a team and you are doing a good job at even being an assistant in the team you probably hated the most.”

10 minutes later you are already sitting at a long table. Toto is sitting on your left. You take your new iPad and a Mercedes notepad with a matching pen and rest it on the conference table in front of you as team principals and other officials are taking their seats to start the meetings. Once everyone is gathered there Stefano starts the meeting with all the formalities needed the conversation starts and after a while you start discussing the burning issue. You open your updated document that you had created this morning with all the arguments and the possible answers that could be said from Mercedes’ side, those ones you hadn’t given to your father. This was only to help your presentation to get the regulations changed but now you are using it for the opposite reason. Christian finishes presenting all the planned points and it’s time for Toto to express his opinion. You managed to write a couple of things on paper and showed him some of the points that he needs to discuss. The man has done this countless times you’re sure but he’s totally letting you handle this.

“Okay, this is an answer to Christian’s concerns about how the regulations right now are not in the right direction. I do not have an exact answer to each and every point of Christian’s speech but I will be trying to get most of them.” he says and glances at the paper in front of him “I’ll start by Christian’s point that the issue affects multiple teams, when in fact it’s not even the majority of the grid that faces the issue that you are aiming to get changed. I can’t see the reason for the regulation change, clearly it’s not that dangerous to drivers health according to doctors and also it would be a huge waste of our resources to just redesign certain aspects of the car when we have the budget cap this year. That’s how I see it.” Toto finishes his monologue and all the eyes are on him.

“Clearly there will be a vote for this.” Stefano says

“Thank you for the notes.” Toto says turning to you and you nod back

Later on the vote takes place and the results are the ones that you expected. That means increased performance from Mercedes and Red Bull chasing them right behind. In other circumstances you would be fuming but now you are happy Mercedes got the chance to stop the regulation changes with your help. The meeting ends and you lobby around for a little longer but afterwards you are back to the paddock walking to the garage for the second practice session. Toto walks by your side and you feel he wants to ask you about what happened there but before he can you inform him you will need some time in your office and you leave him behind.

You get back to your office and you text your friend Sara who lives in Monaco

You

Are you in Monaco?

Sara

Of course I am in Monaco.

The question is where are you?

You

Issues with dad, he won’t let me enter the paddock because I was late in a business meeting and now he removed me from the team

Still in Jeddah though

Listen, I need a favor from you and your magic contacts in Monaco

Sara

I don’t wish to know more about the dad-daughter drama

But I am here to help you with whatever you want

You

I need a place to stay in Monaco

Sara

You can crash on mine or I’ll book you a hotel

You

I am thinking more of an apartment tbh

Sara

How long do you plan on staying here?

You

Permanently?

Sara

OMG, you’ll become a fellow Monegasque?

I will be in contact with my estate agent

You

Yes, I am planning to finally start living in Monaco. I don’t even know if Christian will take me back to the team to be honest but even if he does I can still live in Oxfordshire or in my apartment in London.

Sara

How fast do you need it?

You

As soon as possible please

You lock your phone as you take a deep breath to realize the decision that you just took. Moving to Monaco has always been your dream, since you have been to the Grand Prix there you fell in love with the place and you have spent quite some time in Sara’s house during the summer when you were younger. But now you want to do this alone, you want to feel independent in the country that you loved so much. You immediately think of contacting your father. You decide email is the best option. If he wants to be a bitch so will you

Hello father,

I am sending this email to inform you about my decisions. I will be moving to Monaco in the next couple of weeks, on my own. I believe I will be able to make my own living with the money I currently have. I am requesting my last paycheck from the team since I have been fired and I am not aware of your intentions to hire me back or not. I wish that my personal space in our estate in Oxfordshire remains unchanged in case I am able to return to my obligations to the team, and I inform you that the apartment in London will still be mine. I am still in Saudi Arabia arranging my flight to Monaco. I will be quite busy during the next few weeks so I will not be able to contact you. Should you decide that I am able to come back to the team please inform me.

Wishing you the best.

And send.

You go back to the garage 20 minutes in the session and you spot Toto sitting alone at the top of the fantasy island wearing a pair of headphones while another one is resting on the desk in front of him. You go to his right and check the timings. Currently Mercedes 1-2. He looks at you and removes the headset so he can listen. He hands you the spare headset.

“Isn’t this Nyck’s?” you ask

“No this is yours, Nyck is not joining us at this session.”

“Thank you” you say and you wear the headphones

During the rest of the session Toto shows you all the graphs about the car performance as well as all the communications systems in the team. You are convinced that he is not supposed to do that, it’s knowledge that an assistant could live without knowing and wouldn’t affect their job but still he seems so invested in letting you understand how the team works. This experience is not about gathering information for Red Bull, you think. It’s more about how a team should be and how correct management is done. Something that you feel is missing from Red Bull. The session finishes and Lewis and George are back to the garage with another top 3 finish for the team.

As soon as your day ends you drive your Aston Martin back to the Red Bull hotel, pack your baggage, check out and drive to the airport where you are supposed to leave the car. When you manage to do so you go to the car rental area of the airport and visit the kiosk of the company Toto texted you about and get the keys to a brand new Mercedes AMG. Shortly after that you get dressed with your Mercedes gear once again and drive to the Ritz-Carlton to check into your new room.

Turns out Toto has not only arranged a room for you but it’s also a huge fucking suite that you’re sure most Mercedes employees wouldn’t even consider having. You take a look at the suite and you open the closet door to find it full of Mercedes team shirts, hilfiger pants and the usual Mercedes designed puma shoes. You snap a picture of the closet and you decide to document those weeks of alternate reality that you are currently living in.

When the anxiety of the weirdest day you’ve lived wears off you check your phone for your newest messages

Sara

Gerard just reached out to me.

He has a wonderful loft 2,5 km from the Quartier Du Port.

Generally peaceful location

Sea views as well

Let me know if you want to see it.

You

If you can go there and get some pictures please do. Thank you <3

After that long day you realize that you didn’t get the chance to have a proper meal so you decide to order room service to finally eat something. You think of how pathetic it would look if you eat alone in this huge suite and before you can even cope with that thought you reach for your phone and call Toto. He picks up after 2 rings

“Hello” he says

“Hi, how’s everything?”

“Good, I am getting ready to go downstairs to the restaurant to have dinner, how are you?” “Oh same I was thinking of getting some room service for dinner since I can’t actually go to the restaurant to eat, but the suite is big enough to not feel restricted in one room. Thanks for that by the way.”

“I am sure you’ve only lived in suites for the whole year now so I thought why not. Don’t let the rest of the team know that though.” he says and you hear his laugh on the phone. You stay quiet and he does the same but when you actually decide to say something he speaks again “Maybe we can have dinner together now” he says.

“That’s why I called you in the first place” you admit, but you think you definitely sound a bit in despair. “I can’t order food for two people though it might seem weird.”

“You can come over to my suite, I’ll make sure that it will look as if I am having a meeting with either James or Shov.” he suggests

“Is it okay?” you ask again

“Definitely, I will be ready in 10, suite 264. See you.” he says and terminates the call.

You take a look at the closet trying to decide what to wear. You choose a graphic t-shirt and your most comfortable pants paired with your white sneakers, the only flat pair of shoes that you carried with you. You take a look at the mirror, readjust your hair, put on a nude lipstick and after 10 minutes you are finally ready to leave. You put on your mask because your goal for today isn’t getting caught from walking in some hotel corridor and you navigate your way to suite 264, you knock on the door and Toto is right there letting you in. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray T-shirt but he is barefoot.

“Hey” you say and you walk in the suite looking around. It does look like your suite when it comes to furniture but the rooms are a little more private. There’s a desk that has turned out to be more like Toto’s office for the weekend. You sit on the couch while he closes the door behind you and walks in the living room. You take your mask off and sit there looking at the ceiling. Toto stands in front of you with a menu card in hand.

“I was thinking, maybe pasta?” he tells you

“That’s what I planned to order today.” you laugh as Toto reaches for the phone on the table next to the couch and orders 2 plates of pasta ai funghi with two glasses of red wine.

“They’ll be here in 30 minutes” he tells you

“Great” you reply and stand up. You look at the place around you, stand up and walk to the desk. You sit on the only chair there and you put on his round glasses and put on your serious face as you move your fingers on the mousepad of his mac which -to your surprise- is unlocked so you are able to navigate in his computer. You open up his email but still he doesn’t react even though you are looking at you closely and you start typing and reading out loud.

“Hey Michael, I am just sending you an email.” you say and you keep being serious while you hear Toto bursting in laughter at the couch.

“Lewis is the best of all time, he did nothing wrong, everything is red bull's fault.” you say again and he keeps looking at you.

You keep joking, acting like you are typing a new email “Hey FIA, it’s Toto, please let us use the das. It's a great innovation and we are so smart to think about it. We are not illegal, or at least that’s what James Allison and Shov said. It’s not our fault that we are both smart and sexy. Thank you in advance.”

“That’s not what I said” he laughs

“I’ll need proof for that.” you say “Would I make a good Toto Wolff?”

“The best. I’ll be sure to leave you in my position once I retire.”

“What will Daimler say for that though?”

“You are doing your training so why would they have an issue?” he replies and you laugh.

“Isn’t this suite a bit too big just for you?” you ask

“You have the same one but yeah it is a bit big.”

“Mine isn’t as big.” you say “Most times I feel lonely in those suites. Mine don’t have kitchens though.”

“You cook? Too bad we have ordered already.”

“Maybe another time.” you say and you hear the door knocking.

“Quite fast.” Toto says and he stands up to open the door.

You walk around the suite once again and enter his bedroom and look at the open closet which is once again full of Mercedes button ons so you grab one and put it on. You hear Toto talking and you go back to the living room but he’s still talking to the person outside the door.

“I am kinda busy here Cynthia. I am sorry.” you hear him say

“Please Toto.” a female voice replies “Is there someone else? Is that why you ordered two plates, two glasses of wine?” she asks

“Cynthia I am in the middle of a very important business meeting, it’s about tomorrow’s qualifying and James is waiting inside to eat so that we can continue our meeting. Thank you for the service.”

“Will you call me when you are done?”

“I will be asleep when we are done.Thank you” he says and closes the door.

You stand there in his living room wearing his button up feeling stupid for believing this thing could go anywhere further.

“I should get going.” you say

“Now that the food is here?” he asks but you don’t reply, “Is this shirt mine? Are you going to take this one too?”

“I will get back to my suite and you can call Cynthia, or whatever her name is, and tell her that James is gone and that you are okay for her to come back and do whatever you two do together.”

“Wait, are you jealous? Of Cynthia?”

“I am not jealous, just not in the position to get involved with someone who’s fucking around with the girl who brought him room service 3 times.”

“I am not involved with her.” he says

“Well she seemed awfully too comfortable to be just a stranger Toto.”

“What do you want to hear?” he asks

“That you’ve fucked her?” you tell him

“We slept together once last year.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Goodbye Toto.” you say as you walk towards the door, his shirt still hanging on your shoulders but before you can leave he manages to grab your hand

“I only saw her once this year and I just said hi. We hadn’t spoken since last year but as soon as I arrived she didn't stop appearing in my way. She had reached out several times since we left last year but I never got back to her.”

“So she’s nothing to you?”

“She was just a fling.” he replies and you turn around to sit on the dining table.

“Fine” you say, irritation apparent in your voice “Am I just a fling?” you ask yourself in your head so you decide to ask the same to Toto who is holding the pasta plates leaving one in front of you and one opposite to you on the table. He doesn’t answer, instead he does the same with the two glasses of wine. His silence makes you feel like his answer is not the one that you want to hear but as he leaves the glasses on the table he doesn’t sit down, he stays there towering over you and looking at you.

“If it was just a fling I wouldn’t risk destroying my team for it. Also I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done for you in any case.” he replies. “Technically you can’t even call it a fling because we only made out two or three times and we were drunk.” he says and just stays still “And still there are two glasses of wine that I ordered on that table. I am never going to learn, am I ?” he laughs

“Sorry ?” you ask but he leans in, reaches for your face and kisses you catching you off guard. You stay still in your chair as he sits opposite to you not saying anything

“The wine is red” he says then

“I can see that.” you reply

“They say that red wine can get you drunk easier.”

You try to understand where he’s going with this

“And?”

“We haven’t drunk any of it yet so we are sober”

“Why are you explaining this to me like I’ve never drunk before?”

“This is the most sober that I will be tonight and you said that I didn’t have the guts to make a move without being drunk.” he says

“You won’t get drunk with a glass of wine Toto.”

“I know I won’t but still I didn’t want you to blame this on a single drop of alcohol.” he replies and you smile and you start eating. No one talks during dinner but you are laughing at each other when you’re struggling with eating the pasta without actually making a mess. It feels natural to just sit there and eat with his company, like you are finally where you are supposed to be. For this moment you forget everything else and you focus on what you are currently living. After some time you both finish your food and you see Toto standing up.

“We should finish our wine on the couch.” he says, taking his glass and you copy his moves. He sits on the couch and you do the same but you don’t sit close to him. You rest your back on the couch arm and lay there putting your feet on his lap. He turns and looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He rests one hand on your feet and he grabs his phone with the other one unlocking it and looking at his mails.

“Do you want to work?” you ask

“It’s Friday night so no.” he replies

“Then close your phone”

“What can we do instead?”

“Talk like normal people?” you tell him

“About?” he asks

“I am thinking of moving to Monaco”

“That’s a bold choice, have you thought about it enough?” he asks

“I have and I think it’s the best thing I can do to be honest, I have some of my friends there and I really want to leave home, I really can’t deal with Christian while he keeps treating me like this.”

“That’s good.” he replies “What about going to the factory ?”

“How are you doing it? You live in Monaco and you also have to go to England at the factory.”

“It’s really tiring to be honest, you need to have a place to stay close to the factory “

“I have my apartment in London available.” you tell him

“London to Milton Keynes isn’t that easy to do on a daily basis.”

“Anyways, going to the factory isn’t my main priority right now, I am not even on the team.”

“You are on Mercedes.” he says

“Is this an invitation to Brackley?” you laugh

“You swore it was just for a few races, not that you will be staying permanently”

“It was my masterplan to get hired by Mercedes.”

“We don’t want you with us.” he jokes

“Why?” you ask

“You are distracting the team Ms. Horner.”

“How am I even distracting the team?” you say whining “People don’t even know who I am except from you.”

“You answered for me.” he tells you “And now I have to deal with you walking around Monaco.”

“Oh sorry, I’ll cancel my plans then.”

“Oh no, Monaco needs a twist.” he says and you look at him but say nothing. He doesn’t attempt to start a new conversation, he just readjusts on the couch, grabs the remote and opens the TV. He navigates through Netflix’s homepage and you eventually make him watch a movie which he tried to convince you not to watch. Again, none of you speaks during the movie. Halfway through, you realize you’re far too invested in the movie and turn to look at Toto who is fast asleep on that same couch. You decide that there’s no point in staying longer in his suite and you remove your legs from his lap as smoothly as you can, you grab your phone and your shoes which you had earlier taken off and head to the door tiptoeing.

“Stay here tonight.” you hear his raspy voice which takes you by surprise and you almost scream

“It’s better that I leave, you are tired and need some sleep.” you reply

“There’s a spare bed if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“And there’s an empty suite down the hallway.”

“Come on, aren't you bored to leave when you can just sleep here?” he tells you and well, he’s kinda right. Plus it’s not like you don’t want to spend some more time with him and it would definitely be questionable if someone saw you leaving his suite at midnight. You don’t go back to the couch but you leave your shoes down while Toto eyes every single move you make.

“It’s quali day tomorrow, we need to sleep. Come on.” you tell him and you walk to his room. Seconds later he follows you and enters the room.

“I’m taking the left side.” you say and he smiles at you with a sleepy face.

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep in the other room?” he asks

“It’s not like it will make any difference. Except if you have a problem.”

“No, definitely not.” he replies and both of you lay on the bed, facing each other.

“I’ll wake up earlier to go to the gym, then we can get ready and hit the track. We’ll have breakfast there.” he says and you nod. He seems very calm, eyelids heavy with sleep so you decide to lean and kiss him goodnight. As you come closer to him you can now feel his scent and warmth and you put your lips on his. The kiss is slow and sweet, somehow different from the rest that the two of you had shared up to this moment.

“Goodnight Wolff.” you say

“Goodnight Horner.” he replies and both of you drift to sleep.

The next day you wake up without an alarm and you find the bed next to you empty. You hear water running and figure out that Toto must be taking his post gym shower. You keep laying there and grab your phone to go through new updates and messages. Not a lot of time passes until he emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and he holds another one trying to dry the water off his hair. You admire the sight for a while and you say “Good Morning”. He looks at you and replies

“Good Morning Horner. Slept well?”

“Very much thank you” you say “How about you?”

“Slept really well, and I started my day with a good session at the gym with George and Lewis.”

“Oh that must have been interesting. I would have loved to join you three.”

“It would be funny to see their reactions.” he replies as he dries his hair on a smaller white towel while he’s looking at the nightstand on your right where his things rest . He tosses the towel he was holding on a white chair in the room and he approaches you. He climbs on the bed and puts one hand on the headrest while his other hand is stretching to reach the IWC watch on the nightstand. His already toned muscles are a little more observable now that he’s lingering above you. You draw a sharp breath at the sight trying to contain your thoughts and your self but you still look up and stare at him while he makes sure that he gets the watch. When he actually does, he looks down at you and he catches you staring.

“What?” he asks, staying still in the same position and you don’t answer but instead you scoff. You take a quick glance on his body and you let your instincts take over. You grab him from his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He immediately reacts by holding your face with his now free hand and he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss and bites your lip. You melt into the kiss still laying down as you feel your heart racing faster than any racing car you’ve ever seen. Your breath gets quicker as you get the sheets out of your way trying to feel his skin on yours. Toto mutters “Fuck” in between your kisses making you a little crazier. He breaks the kiss and walks to the end of the bed, he grabs your legs and starts leaving trails of kisses all the way up from your calf to your upper thigh until he stops and looks at you, eyes full of lust. He lingers above you for a second or two and he looks at you intensely trying to make sure that he has your consent for his following actions. Once you understand what this is about you nod while you're trying to regulate your breath.

"Stay still for me baby" he requests and you try to follow his order by just laying there as he dives his head between your thighs. Your breathing gets faster and deeper as he works his way down on you making you feel like you’ve never felt before. You sense his smile while his tongue makes circles down on you. It’s more sensual than you’ve imagined it to be. And god the man definitely knows what he’s doing. He keeps going on for a while with the same dedication as he started and you feel getting closer and closer to your absolute limits. You look down on him as he now uses his hands on you, and you see him staring back. “You look so good baby” he says and all you can manage to say is his name followed by a moan. “Toto I’m so close. Fuck” you say out of breath and he dives in once again as if he heard the magic phrase. He works his magic and shortly after you probably have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Then he stands up, his hardness still apparent. You manage to regain your strength and crawl at the end of the bed. “Time to take care of you love.” you tell him and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. You reach for his neck and pull him in for a long kiss as you move your hand down his torso and on his crotch. You feel him, how hard he is, and you’re secretly taking pride in your effect on him. You start touching him, trying to make him feel good in your hands. His breathing gets faster as you continue and you can sense him coming closer and closer. You want to give him your best so you slowly lean down but he stops you. “Let me feel you?” he asks, almost sounding tortured. You feel a burning desire in you. You’ve imagined this for some time. You cannot say no, not now. Instead you say “Yes please” and get on his lap. You kiss him, while you’re repeating in your head “i am actually fucking Toto Wolff”. You give him one or two strokes getting ready for him but instead of following he looks around, probably for protection. “I am on birth control” you tell him and he turns his attention back to you. You place yourself in the right position as you feel him pressuring your entrance. Once he’s in you start riding him until you feel yourself getting out of breath. All this time muttering his name like a mantra and he is just repeating something in the lines of “God you feel so good.”, both of you feeling like you’re in another world. As soon as he gets that you are tired he lifts you up and lays you down on the bed. Now he is on top and he’s thrusting in and out in a rhythmic and satisfying way. He looks you in the eye. It’s not awkward. Not even close. You both seem to enjoy it quite a lot. It’s not after a long time that both of you finish at the same time, in an almost poetic way.

Now both of you lay naked on Toto’s queen sized bed. No one is talking. You just lay on his torso while his hand is round your shoulders. At some point you decide to break the silence

“That was a decent start to the day.” you say and Toto looks down on you

“Beats the early gym session to be honest.” he says

“I would be angry if you preferred going to the gym with Lewis and George to having sex with me”

“If it wasn’t for the gym you wouldn’t be here now”

“You think it was the ‘semi naked with a towel’ appearance that made me want to sleep with you?” you laugh “I would give it to you any time of the day, even if you were wearing a garbage bag Wolff.”

“Nice to hear that you are unreasonably horny.”

“It’s not without a reason though. I think you’ve figured out that I do not consider you a bad looking man.”

“I have yes.”

“All I had to do is to just find the courage to just throw myself at you.” you laugh

“And you kind of had to be drunk to do so?” he asks

“Yes”

“Isn’t it ironic though?” he says “That we actually slept together during the moment of our biggest clarity and sobriety?”

“What is it with the philosophical questions Toto? I just wanted to have sex with you for a long time and I did.”

“Long time I hear?”

“Yes, are you surprised?” you ask

“No, just glad that I am not the only one. Was it good at least?”

“God Toto, you’re asking the cringiest questions.” you say “Yes, god, it was perfect.” you answer and you hear Toto laugh.

“Now as much as I want to stay here and repeat this through the day, we have to go to the track” he says

“Ah yes, I am dying to get some breakfast as well.” you say and Toto laughs

“I’ve already had mine” he says with a smirk and as soon as you get what he’s talking about you grab your pillow and start hitting him playfully.

“Come on, let’s get ready.”

A hour or so later, you find yourself parking a shiny black Mercedes at the track's parking area while being already disguised as your alter ego, full on Mercedes’ gear. Today you are wearing Toto’s shirt, which is a little oversized but you manage to style it in a great way. You grab your bag, draw a sharp breath and open the door. You walk to the paddock and scan your pass as you go totally unnoticed by people around you. To them you look like a regular Mercedes employee that they have no reason to care about. Little do they know that this is actually you. To be honest you kind of love the calmness of it, how no one is chasing you for a photo or a statement on a recent drama or event of the F1 world. You just walk unbothered. You get so caught up in that thought that you don’t actually notice how fast you got to the motorhome. You get in and put on your show, greeting the majority of your colleagues that also seem ignorant to your presence there. You go to the buffet area and grab a tray for your breakfast which you eventually bring to the small office that Toto managed to provide you. Once you settle in, you sit down to eat but you take a photo of the breakfast as a part of documenting that crazy weekend. You also decide to send the photo to Toto.

You

[photo]

Grabbed breakfast and brought it to the office. Drop by if you don’t have anything better to do.

Wolff

Just walked in. I’ll grab my coffee and be there in 5.

You

Cool.

Five minutes later you hear a knock on the door followed by “Miss Roosevelt it’s Wolff here.”

“Coming.” you say and unlock the door for him to come in.

“Hey” you say

“Hello” he answers and looks at the full tray “You got quite a lot of food there.”

“Yeah, that start to the day just opened my appetite.”

“That’s good to hear”

“So, what am I supposed to do today?”

“Well, practice starts in 45 minutes and then we have qualifying.”

“I am aware of the program, thank you.”

“You won’t let me finish my thought will you?” he says

“Sorry” you tell him and look at him

“I am thinking, maybe you can join me and Nyck in the garage for practice.” he pauses to think “And then you can take a look at the data before qualifying.”

“No I cannot do that” you say

“Why not? I know you can read data, you have the basic skills and knowledge to judge a performance run.”

“I don’t want to be involved with your data. It’s confidential.” you reply. It is actually crazy that Toto is okay with the idea of you handling the team’s data, as if you are not his number one opponent.

“I know it is. But I trust you, plus there’s an NDA that you’ve already signed. And the fact that you deny reading the data makes me want to give you access to them more than before. Because I know how serious you are about not leaking stuff.”

“Okay I will take a look, but only for a short time.” you tell him

“Oh and then I want you to do a tour to a group of visitors that will be coming to the garage.”

“Aren’t there people responsible for this?” you ask, reminiscing the fact that in Red Bull you have people who are responsible for the hospitality packages.

“There are but they are shitting their pants because Christiano is dropping by later.”

“Who is Christiano?” you ask, slightly confused

“Ronaldo” he replies

“He’s coming to the race?”

“Yes. He’s actually coming both today and tomorrow and the team is invested in doing everything perfect for him.” he says and you are still staring at him with your mouth open “We are a bit short staffed in that team so an extra help would be amazing.”

“Good. I’ll do that too.”

“Great, thanks love” he says and you freeze at the name but before it gets too awkward the door knocks.

“Toto, this is James, do you have some time to review the quali strategy?” you hear through the door

“Yes, I will be there in a sec.” he replies “Gotta go now, i’ll see you in 45 right?”

“Right” you tell him and he is out of the office. I

You spend the next 30 minutes scrolling through twitter and eating the breakfast that you got earlier as well as taking a look at Toto’s schedule for the day. Later on you leave the office, mask on once again, and make your way to the garage and to the top of the fantasy island where Toto and Nyck are waiting for the session to start. Both cars are in the garage waiting for a sign to leave once the lights at the end of the pitlane turn green and at the same time all the mechanics are making the final touches on the set ups. You greet everyone sitting on the fantasy island and put on the spare headphones as you did the day before. The session is done as usual, the drivers going in and out of the garage to change setups on the car to find an optimal one for the qualifying. Performance runs are also on the programme but only during the last fifteen minutes of the session. Everything concerning telemetry is being sent directly into Toto’s computer on top of the fantasy island as soon as each lap ends so that he can see how they are done and areas where they can be corrected. The session ends quicker than it usually does when you are at Red Bull because suddenly all the chit chat becomes interesting and not as boring as it is with Christian.

“P1 and P2 huh?” you ask him. Nyck is already out of the garage, something about having to talk to some foreign media made Toto let him leave before the small pre qualifying debrief.

“It isn’t bad is it?” he asks back.

“It is not for us” you tell him “ It is for the rest of the grid though. I bet Christian is fuming right now.”

“It is not bad for them. If we are in front they will have to innovate more to reach us. It motivates them.”

“I bet they are not seeing it this way though.”

“Is Christian really fuming if we finish in front in practice?”

“Yeah, he’s not a fan of coming second in any session of this sport.”

“Too bad for him.” he says and you laugh. At this moment your phone rings with a notification from the calendar app reminding you of an interview Toto has to attend.

“Oh, I am seeing now that you should be outside the media pen for an interview.” you tell him

“I am very much aware, thank you.”

“Well, why are you not there now?”

“I prefer to hang out with my beautiful assistant instead.” he compliments you

“Oh my god, shut up” you laugh and he does the same “Come on, interview, now!” you say as you tug him and try to push him to the corridor that leads to the paddock playfully.

“That’s unfair. I am the boss. You are not in the position to prohibit me from doing anything.” he laughs as he walks reluctantly to the paddock.

“Well, it seems like I am in charge of what you are doing so technically I am allowed to tell you what to do.” you tell him “I will be enjoying a cold cup of coffee in the meantime.”

“Once again, that’s unfair Horner.” he says the second part whispering so that people are not able to hear. “Also, you have work to do. The telemetry data is already in your email inbox waiting to be read and commented on, so if I were you I would actually save the coffee for later.” he says and you look at him flabbergasted. “Oh and as soon as you are done with that you have the little tour to do in an hour and a half. Take care Ms. Roosevelt.”

Before you are able to form a sentence he is already gone, more like running to the media pen. You on the other side, walk back to your office, open your new iPad and take a look at the data. The lap times look good, still slower than the lap time that you calculated the pole position would be on, but they look good. In the data you can see clearly that the engine mode is in a much less aggressive setup that you are sure will change during qualifying. You add some comments using your iPencil concerning parts of where you think the drivers can gain time, as well as some questions for the strategists and the mechanics. When you are done, you forward your notes to Toto’s email and check the clock to see that it has actually been 1:30 hours and that it is actually the time to go meet the people you will be giving your tour to.

You find them all standing on a circle by the garage entrance at the paddock, discussing, taking pictures and being excited. There are 5 of them, 3 guys and 2 girls, all of them close to your age. You approach them and greet them. One of the girls looks gorgeous. The boys aren’t bad either.

“Hello everyone.” you say “You must be waiting for a paddock tour right?”

“Yeah” one of the boys says and the rest of them nod.

“Okay!” you say in an excited tone, trying to engage with them. “I am Mindy. I will learn your names during the tour I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you” says one of the girls “Likewise” you answer “So, should we start? Are you all excited?”

“Very.” one of the boys says.

The tour starts and you take all of them for a walk in the paddock to see all the motorhomes and where you actually work and you are actually describing all the details about what you are showing to them. You take them by the media pen, where you spot Toto giving another interview for pre qualifying. All of the guys and the girls get very excited and try to snap a picture even from far away. Then you take them by the garage but just before you manage to get in, you receive a new notification on your watch

Wolff

Just finished the interviews at the media pen and managed to see your notes and questions on the telemetry data. I forwarded them to James and he immediately got back to me asking who made all those brilliant notes and questions. I guess you are wasting yourself with management, you should become a mechanic instead.

Oh I also caught a glance of you and the guys during the tour. I hope that you are doing alright. We don’t want to make Ritz’s employees sad, we still have a few days left before we check out.

You read the message and realize that the people that you’ve been interacting with are people working at your hotel. So you decide to stop the tour and actually get to know them.

“You know what? Let’s introduce ourselves before going into the garage.” you tell them and walk back to a bench located at the paddock.

“So as I told you before I am Mindy Roosevelt, I am currently working at Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 but my position is totally different to what I am doing right now. I am actually working as an assistant to upper management, but the hospitality team has a very special guest for this weekend and they were busy enough so you are left with me.” you say “Go ahead, introduce yourselves.”

One of the guys starts talking “I am Ahmad Hussain and like everyone here, I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in Jeddah. I am working as a cook in the hotel kitchen so everything that you’ve tasted in the past few days might have had to do something with me.”

“I loved everything that I’ve tried, thank you Ahmad.” you tell him

“I am Benjy Ayad, I am half american half saudi arabian and I am currently working at the Ritz-Carlton as an economics advisor.” he says

“Mohammad Dawoud, and I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in room service.”

“Oh, I will be requesting for you Mohammad.” you laugh and he takes a bow showing his honor.

“I am also working as room service at the Ritz.” you hear one of the girls saying. This time it’s the pretty one

“That’s nice. What is your name?”

“I am Cynthia Jones.” she says and you freeze as you realize that the girl standing in front of you has slept with the man you slept with this morning. Jealousy as well as curiosity are your main feelings so you ask for more information.

“Sounds very non-Saudi Arabian. Where are you from Cynthia?” you ask

“I am from the UK actually. I was born and raised there, my parents are British but all of a sudden I ended up here. I was looking for a position in management in some big companies here in Saudi Arabia and I got this job as a part time until I figured things out but I ended up staying for two years.”

“That’s crazy. And why management? Do you have a degree?”

“Yes, I actually do. I got my degree in Switzerland and I tried pursuing it but right now I haven’t found anything that I like.”

You nod in agreement, trying to register all the information that you’ve learned from her directly. Toto was secretive about their relationship so learning even the slightest about her is important. Finally you turn to the last girl left

“Alina Mohammad, I work as a receptionist at the Ritz. Nothing to know exactly. I was born and raised here and I got a degree in touristics so I got the job of my dreams.”

“You guys seem really happy with what you are all doing. I hope you keep doing what you love.” you say “I mean you all managed to buy a paddock pass that most people wouldn’t dream buying at what? 24?”

“No actually we didn’t buy a pass, the team invited us to join today’s action.” says Benjy

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” you say

“Yeah they came in last night and handed us the passes just before our shift ended. We went crazy.” says Cynthia and you look at her.

“Sorry Cynthia, if I may ask, what time do you finish your shift on average?”

“I don’t know, maybe like 11pm or something? Yesterday I finished at that time.” she replies. At this point you are now sure, Toto asked her to come there today. There’s no other explanation. As soon as he saw her he wanted her to come back. That’s why he invited her. It wasn’t planned for you to do the interview, but he changed it to make you interact with Cynthia, to actually hurt your feelings.

“Mindy, is everything okay?” Mohammad asks as you have totally zoned out

“Sorry, I spaced out for a bit. Yes, everything is good. Shall we continue with our garage tour?” you ask and they nod. You go back to the garage trying to explain as many things as you know about the things there. To be honest, your mood isn’t quite the same as it was before you knew who the beautiful blonde by your side was. Luckily, the tour comes to an end 30 minutes later but sadly it is qualifying time so you have to be by Toto’s side by the time the session starts. Cristiano Ronaldo is also there by Toto’s side. You nod and greet him as Toto introduces you and you just get back to work.

During qualifying you sit there, not talking, just looking at the screen and the timings and occasionally checking your burner twitter account for any comments. Although you are pissed at the man next to you you definitely don’t want Mercedes to qualify in bad positions so through Q1 and Q2 you are relaxed since it is obvious that both cars will be through to Q3. During Q3 you keep your fingers crossed and mostly during the last runs for pole position you keep praying as you usually do in Red Bull. When the timer runs out Lewis and George are sitting P1 and P2 respectively, locking the front row for tomorrow’s start and as soon as the team figures it out, the whole garage erupts in cheers. Toto reaches Ronaldo for a handshake, celebrating the results. Your eye catches the guys from earlier cheering and hugging each other, taping with their phones. Toto turns to you and you do a high five with him as he smiles at you. You remain indifferent in his reaction, keeping yourself busy until George and Lewis are back to the parc ferme to congratulate them. Once you are done with that you simply say goodbye to everyone there and leave.

You go back and grab all your things and without saying a word to anyone you drive back to the hotel. When you are ready to go back to bed, you see a new message

Max Emilian Verstappen

Where are you? I missed you on track these days.

You

Sadly Christian thought it was a fair deal to throw me out of the team for god knows how long.

Happily for you I will be out of your way for that time so you will relax.

Also congrats for the P3 today, it was a decent run but the mercs had the pace.

Max Emilian Verstappen

Oh Christian…

Shut up, I already miss you. Are you in England?

Thank you H.

You

I am in Monaco, at a friend's house.

You feel kinda terrible for lying to him but there’s not much you can do.

After you chat with Max for a while, you order some food to eat but then get another message.

Wolff

Lost you after qualifying and when I asked they told me you had left. That wasn’t a bad result.

Anyways I am going back to the hotel and I am planning to order something to eat, you can hang around my suite if you want and we can discuss strategies for the race.

Let me know what you are about to do

You

I’m not feeling very good, sorry.

And tomorrow I will be coming in late, probably an hour or so before the start

Wolff

Okay. Do you need any help? Should I drop by your suite?

How am I supposed to work without my assistant?

You

I am not your main assistant Woff, you have a hundred people helping you, me not being there won’t be a huge issue

No, don’t come.

Just let me fucking be for once okay?

Later on you see that he read the message and didn’t reply. You take a hot bath and go to sleep for tomorrow.

You wake up the next day pretty late but just in time considering the fact that you are planning to leave in 2 hours. You order breakfast to avoid having something at the track and start getting ready as you are waiting for room service to arrive. You eat and then leave.

Since you left the hotel earlier your time of arrival is estimated earlier than you actually planned so you decide to take a drive in Jeddah’s streets to soak in the country. An hour or so before the start you actually arrive at the track. You park your car and walk to the hospitality. Then you lock yourself in your office and just read notes for the race. Later on you hear a knock on the door.

“It’s Wolff” you hear him say and you open the door even if you don’t want to. You don’t speak. You stay there and look at him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks

“I am okay, yes.” you reply “Do you want anything else?” you ask him since he’s standing there just watching,

“Why are you acting like this?” he asks

“Like what?”

“Like Christian Horner’s daughter?”

“Yeah, you should be expecting that since that’s exactly who I am”

“You haven’t been like this since Bahrain.” he says

“Well if you don’t like it then you should call Cynthia.” you tell him

“Is this what this is all about? Are you jealous?” he asks

“Listen Toto, if you want to discuss this I will discuss it outside this office please.” you tell him

“Okay then, follow me.” he says

“What? Now?”

“I want to solve this right now if it’s okay.”

“The race starts in 30 minutes.” you say

“It will take less than 30 minutes, follow me” he says

Both you and Toto walk in the motorhome before he manages to open a door at the end of the hallway. You climb off the stairs and you reach a place somewhere in between a wall and a closed section of the motorhome.

“Speak” he says

“Bossy much ?” you ask

“Yes, now please tell me how did the whole Cynthia thing reoccur after yesterday morning?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.” you tell him

“I do not have a clue.” he says

“You don’t have a clue about inviting her here?”

“Who?”

“Yesterday you made me do a paddock tour to a group of people.”

“Yes, they were the Ritz employees, I am aware of that”

“So you are aware that Cynthia Jones was proudly here watching F1 and enjoying qualifying with a VIP pass right?”

“I was not.” he says and honestly he seems like he’s telling the truth.

“You didn’t see her in the garage?” you ask

“Well, believe it or not I do not see everyone who is in the garage.”

“You didn’t invite her ?”

“Nope.”

“She said that she got her invitation right after her shift ended. And her shift ended after you saw her.”

“I was aware that they were going to be here. Just not the names of who was coming. The hotel management was supposed to do a draw and pick 5 people to join us as a gift. It’s part of our contract.” he replies

“So you didn’t know she was coming?”

“I am going to say no once again.” he says “You can search my messages if you want to.” he says as he hands you his phone.

“I trust you.” you tell him and you hand him his phone back

“After all I am not that big of an asshole to invite an ex fling and then sleep with you the next morning.”

“Don’t you dare do this again.”

“Invite people or sleep with you?”

“Oh Wolff fuck off.” you joke

“With you, gladly.” he replies

“Shhh” you tell him

“You are not going to shut me up this way.” he says and then looks at you “Also take off this goddamn mask now that no one can see us, I am tired of seeing you with it.”

You take of your mask and smile at him

“You’re sure that no one can see us here right?” you ask and he nods.

You lean on him and kiss him, catching him off guard. He returns the kiss as he smiles in it .

“I am sorry, Wolff. I won’t overreact about Cynthia again.”

“It’s alright Horner.” he tells you.

“The race starts in 15, should we go?”

“Let’s go.” he says and both of you walk back to the garage and your usual places.

At the start of the race both Lewis and George start off well, keeping their initial positions with Max lurking just behind George. Standing next to Toto, you have access to everything on his computer so you see lap by lap each and every thing you’ve learned to look for in order to plan a strategy in your head. When things get tough and Max gets behind Lewis in P2 your brain is running as fast as it can. The Mercedes strategists are proposing possible pit stop strategies based on the data that they have. However they don’t know one thing that you do. As an executive at Red Bull you have to be aware of code phrases over the team radio, which to be honest can’t be forgotten in a day. So as you’re seeing in the data Lewis is trying to manage his tires and you hear the message “Okay Max, it seems like we are going for a one stopper here.” , you feel the bells ringing in your head.

The “It seems like” phrase is a code name for doing exactly the opposite that the phrase says so you are 100% sure that they are going for a two stopper in order to win. Something that Mercedes has done countless times.

Toto had told you earlier that if you want to intervene you can press the button and speak but he thought that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to actually do it. When you crack the code of the Red Bull strategy you immediately press the button saying strategy and speak.

“Red Bull is going for a two stopper.” you say and Toto looks at you with his eyes wide open. “In about 5 to 10 laps they are going to be back on the softs to chase us. I would suggest pitting Lewis for a second time, turning the engine up and trying to chase him.”

“Are you sure?” he asks

“The “It seems like” is the key phrase Toto. Please let Lewis know. ” you tell him

“Okay. Do what she said. I am waiting for your calculations. Get back at me in two minutes.” he says while pressing the strategy button

“Thank you.” he says.

Later on it seems like Red Bull is caught off guard by Mercedes’ move and they try saving it as well as they can but they fail. At the end of the race the checkered flag is out and Lewis wins the grand prix in Jeddah.

“Yes boys, come on. Amazing strategy” says Lewis through the radio as everyone in the garage is celebrating. George finishes P2.

“Thank you for the amazing drive Lewis.” says Toto

“Get in there Lewis!” says Bono through the radio.

Toto turns to you and says thank you while he’s off to congratulate the other team members. After Lewis gives his post race interview to Naomi Schiff, you storm off to the pitlane to watch the podium ceremony. Max is also there and he seems a bit disappointed by his streak of P3’s during the season, but you’re barely worried. Right now you are celebrating about Lewis and George. You take your phone out and snap a picture or two. After the champagne opens and the trophies are given you go back to your office and lock yourself there once again. You’re hearing all the congratulations from people in the hospitality center and you sit on the office couch feeling that happiness and euphoria of winning. You haven’t spoken to anyone since the race ended but you are now just laying there happy. A long time after, you hear a knock on the door. You’re sure it’s Toto since the race debrief and the interviews must have ended by now. You ask who it is though.

“It’s Lewis. Can you please open up?” he says and you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. You put on your mask and you open the door.

“Oh my god Lewis hi. Congratulations on your win.” you tell him

“Thank you Mindy. It’s Mindy right?” he asks

“Yes it is.” you tell him

“And you’re a Daimler intern?”

“I am yes.”

“Can you please take off your mask so that I can remember your face?” he asks and at this point you are pretty sure he knows that you’re not who you say you are.

“I am sorry but I am at great risk, I don’t want to get COVID or anything.” you tell him trying to avoid the situation.

“Don’t worry, I am wearing masks and I also tested negative this morning, so you can take it off.”

“Is it okay if I don’t want to?” you tell him

“Yes it is.” he says and he turns to face the door, finally going to leave. “We will be outside celebrating the 1-2 with the team, it will be amazing if you come, even for the picture.”

“I am not sure I have to be there.”

“I know you had something to do with that win, this strategy didn’t make itself Horner.” he says and you freeze as you register how he called you.

“Excuse me?” you tell him

“Next time that you fight with Toto, don’t do it outside my driver’s room Horner.” he says. “I know what happened between you two, I saw you without your mask and I saw you kissing my Team principal, there’s no denying.”

“Shit. Toto said no one could see us.”

“I could see you but Toto thought I would be at the grid by then when I clearly wasn’t.”

“I am sorry. You can’t say this to anyone.” you tell him

“I don’t plan to, I just find it funny that you switched teams.” he says

“Yeah, I had to because my dad’s an asshole.”

“Okay, now you get what everyone’s saying right?” he laughs

“Yeap.”

“You should come outside, let’s celebrate. You earned this victory as much as I did. Plus I want to have you in the picture. You can wear your mask.” he says and he extends his hand to make you stand up from the couch.

“Okay” you say and you walk with him

“Oh and by the way, Wolff is heads over heels for you, I am pretty sure he’s liked you for a long time and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. That Cynthia thing is completely bullshit.”

“Really?” you ask him and he nods smiling.

Both of you walk outside to celebrate that amazing day with your amazing achievements. Mercedes really feels like home for you. Toto’s eyes light up when he sees you outside, in between the mix of employees. He stands by your side for the photos and then all of the team starts playing with champagne. It’s a really great night in the desert that makes up for the craziness of the weekend which makes you relax ahead of the new week coming up.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #enemies to lovers ig #f1 #all's fair fic

146 notes · View notes

sh0ek0 · 2 years

Text

after hours (part 2)

please find the other parts via my masterlist or the #sh0ek0 tag, I'm having some trouble with my posts not showing up in the tags and I think the links are messing this up

genre: angst, smut, dark content, kinda all over the place content warning: 18+ !MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions of alcohol and drug use, name calling, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, violence, emotional abuse, choking, rough!megumi, slapping, threatening with a gun, Russian roulette, manic kinda episode, I should honestly stop romanticizing this kinda behavior, still: probably more but I am new to this pairing: Megumi x Reader word count: about 6.5k

summary: After Megumi beat up Choso at Yuji's and his houseparty, you're left drunk, high and confused. You start looking for him and remember an incident from your past before you sneak out of the apartment to meet up with your abusive ex, trying to rekindle your toxic relationship.

I'm so sorry this second part took me so long. Again: I don't want to talk myself down and I love writing, it's so much fun but I am very critical of myself and I really think this is trash compared to all the other amazing writing on here. So, THANK YOU SO MUCH for bearing with me and hyping me up. Every single like I got on 'heartbeat' really made my day <3 (I am terrified of posting so brb logging off for a few days help)

recommended songs: Formula - Labrinth / The Hills - The Weeknd / After Hours - The Weeknd / The Zone - The Weeknd / Streets - Doja Cat / Wicked Games - The Weeknd

You stumble through the open door onto the roof terrace. There are people staring at you and some of them seem to recognize you - you knew people were talking and you were old enough to just not care about that kinda shit anymore. They haven't been through what you've been through and if they decided to judge you? Well that was on them.

Right now you needed to find him. Megumi reacted the way he did because he loved you. You knew that. You pass by a table and a few lounge chairs and recognize the people sitting there from your college lectures. A girl, you remember her name to be Yue, waves you over.

"Y/N! Hi, are you alright?" she asks and you can hear a tiny bit of concern in her voice as you stumble and bump into one of the chairs.

"Hi, uh, yeah 'm fine." you answer and shoot her a smile, fumbling with the sleeves of your dress before you drop into the chair you just bumped into. Your head was spinning while you were desperately trying to process what had just happened inside but it was too much, it was too loud, too many people, too much booze. Everyone around you seemed to have the time of their lives while you were stuck inside your mind.

You reach for the half-empty bottle of vodka that was on the table in front of you and pour yourself a glass. It would definitely not help you to get any clearer in the head, but it would calm your nerves. Or at least you could just escape this mess for a few more minutes.

You put the glass to your lips and down its contents before filling it right back up. You can feel the stares of the guys sitting next to you. You never bothered to speak to anyone in your lectures and you didn't even know their names but apparently they seemed to enjoy seeing you in this state.

Under normal circumstances you wouldn't give them a single glance and you would’ve snapped at them for staring at you like this but now, as drunk as you were, you didn't even notice how far your dress had ridden up, or the spilled liquor on your cleavage. The wet fabric clung to your boobs, exposing you without really exposing you.

"Hey, slow down." Yue laughed as you down another shot, taking the bottle out of your hand. You look at her before leaning back in your chair, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

"Listen I actually don't want to bother you any longer," you frown, unsure what to say next "just 'wanna know if you saw Gojo or Megumi I- I am looking for him." you say, unsure if Yue could understand you over the music.

Yue looks at you. You know she understood you because you can see pity in her eyes and you immediately regret asking her in the first place. You told yourself that you didn’t care but you still hated that everyone around you had their opinion about you and your relationship. No one dared to say it out loud, but everyone thought the same. Even your friends.

"Well, I don't know where Gojo is but I saw Megumi passing by just when I came out here," She moves closer to you to pull your dress down, glaring at the two guys that were staring at you.

"I think he left." She looks at her hands, obviously searching for the right words to say to you.

Yue leans over to you. You weren't exactly close but apparently most people on campus knew about the ups and downs in your relationship. People really liked to talk.

"Y/N I guess your friends are really worried about you," she says gently, trying not to cross your boundaries. "You should really stop looking for him - I mean everyone saw the bruising on your neck-"

Well, so much for not crossing boundaries.

"Megumi would never hurt me." you protest, cutting her off.

"-people say he threatened you with a gun after an argument escalated." Yue carefully put her hand on your leg and you flinched.

"That's bullshit." you laugh, getting flustered. How could this even have spread around? You told nobody except Maki.

"That’s not what happened." you whisper.

"You don't threaten someone you love with a gun." Yue said in a sharp voice. You look at her, completely thrown off guard.

"Yeah and I guess you don't stick your nose in other peoples fucking business." you hiss and lean on your hands to lift yourself up out of the chair, a little bit wobbly on your feet. You grab the bottle of vodka from her hands and stumble in the direction of the terrace door.

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you remember that day a few weeks ago. It happened in your dorm room again, you just came home from another lecture. Grabbing you from behind in complete darkness, Megumi covered your mouth with his hand to keep you from screaming as he pressed cold metal to your temple. You will never forget how utterly and absolutely terrified you were.

You will never forget the look he had in his eyes when he threw you against the wall and made you face him. You could see on his face how much he enjoyed having absolute power over you.

***

"You fucking stalking me now?" he spat at you, holding you against the wall of your dorm room by your neck. Your throat still hurt from the last time he did this to you.

Megumi had an old revolver in the other hand and pointed it at your head. "What the fuck did you think you were doing last night? You are fucking crazy, Y/N." Your body was shaking, he sounded so angry it completely scared the shit of you.

Would you let him treat you like this for the rest of your life?

"You were fucking some other bitch last night you fucking asshole," you screamed out, cutting him off. "I fucking know it! Stop bullshitting me I fucking heard you through that door." You started crying.

"You telling me this after you sucked off some random guy at the party you were at? You fucking kidding me?" - "We just kissed an-and I was drunk-" you started explaining but got cut off as Megumi pulled you towards him by your neck before slamming your head against the wall. You let out a muffled groan.

He was still holding the gun to your temple and you were scared shitless that it would go off.

”'We just kissed and I was drunk'” he mimicked your voice and you cried out in pain. Your head hurt, your face was scrunched up and your eyes closed.

”You are a fucking whore, Y/N, and you don't fucking own up to your actions. You’re a fucking slut and you think you deserve to get treated like a fucking princess.” Megumi spat at you.

You started bawling.

"At least that bitch wasn't as fucking annoying." Megumi huffed.

"I really fucking hate you." You yelled at him.

"Leave me alone, stop touching me." You felt a headache coming on, your head was throbbing and tears were flowing uncontrollably down your face. "I hate you."

How could you keep on doing this to yourself? You slowly came to the realization that nor you were scared of him neither you were scared of him being violent. You were simply scared about the fact that no matter what he did to you, you couldn't stop loving him.

"I know you do." Megumi answered.

He took his hand off from around your neck and you felt the cold metal leave your skin as he slowly lowered the gun. Your pulse pounded against the spot where the barrel had just been pointed at and you see the usual blank stare returning to his face.

"You're abusive and a fucking psychopathic maniac." you cried, trying to catch some air.

He just kept staring at you with emptiness in his eyes, watching tears stream down your cheeks.

"I hate the way you're making me feel, Megumi." you added quietly, staring at the ground.

"I know." he said.

You sniffled, tears still streaming down your face.

"Can't you just leave me alone already?" you said, rubbing the bruising on your throat with shaky hands. You didn't even believe yourself and the words that came out of your mouth seemed so far away. As if you were standing next to yourself and listening to some other person talking.

"That's what you want me to do?" he asked in a calm voice and lifted the gun that was still in his hand.

No you didn't.

Megumi opened the chamber of the revolver in his hands. You saw that it was indeed loaded when he dropped the six bullets into his hand and slipped five of them in his pocket. He then placed a single round back into the gun and spinned the cylinder with his thumb.

You stood there in silence and watched what he was doing.

He lifted the gun and held it against your forehead. You closed your eyes, unable to stop your body from shaking. You begged him to stop.

"Megumi, stop, you’re scaring me, please stop that." you pleaded. "Just leave me alone, please stop-"

Not until you felt him pull back the gun did you dare to open your eyes. Your cheeks were wet with tears and as soon as you opened your eyes, his gaze met yours. His dark eyes looked so empty as he put the barrel to his own head.

Your heart stopped once again.

And then he pulled the trigger.

You squealed and instantly flinched but you could only hear a silent click! - the gun didn’t go off.

Suddenly it dawned on you what he was up to. Even if you didn't quite want to believe it, in the condition he was in right now he would have been capable of anything. Even of something as crazy as this.

And you were so fucking scared of how far he would go this time.

"Megumi- stop p-please STOP." you sobbed.

He was manic. Completely out of his mind.

"You asked me to leave you alone." His voice eerily calm, as always. He closed his eyes and grimaced, pulling the trigger again.

Nothing. No loud BANG! just a faint metallic click!

Watching him almost put a bullet in his head a second time had traumatized you. If he hadn't managed to do that by now, he certainly did at that moment.

"Megumi- PLEASE- please stop this." you screamed hysterically and reached out to him, your hand now touching his chest.

"Please stop, I-I love you- I love you so much- p-please stop I don’t want you to leave me, please-" you wailed. Your body followed your hand and you leaned against him, head buried in his chest. You felt so weak, barely able to hold yourself on your feet. You sobbed and cried into his chest, staining the fabric of his sweater with salty tears.

And you could feel that his body was shaking as well.

You didn't dare look up at him. After a minute that felt like an eternity you finally felt his arm wrap around your waist, stone-cold metal now pressed against your back.

Megumi’s chin was resting on top of your head and he slowly pressed his lips to you hair, inhaling your scent while planting kisses.

"Next time you ask me to leave you I’ll kill us both." he whispered in a cold voice and you nodded, barely noticeable.

"I love you." he added and you closed your eyes.

He loved you. That was all that mattered to you.

You could never love another man, not even if you wanted to.

***

You made it back inside on shaky legs, your heels were way too high for the amount of booze you had in your system by now. You screw off the lid of the bottle in your hands and take a sip. Looking around you spot none of your friends except Yuta but he didn’t seem to notice you.

He’s sitting on that very couch you were sitting on with Choso just a while ago and at a second glance you can see that he’s making out with your roommate. Maki didn’t seem to notice you either, as she was completely distracted by Yuta’s lips and his hands all over her body.

Under other circumstances you would have been quite excited about this turn of events - you knew how long Maki had been crushing on him. And you also knew that Yuta was the one who fell first, given how he acted around her and how he looked at her like she was the only woman on the planet.

But now you were way too drunk and way to invested in finding Megumi to care about anything else. You push past a few people while drinking from the almost empty bottle, trying to find the front door.

After taking a few wrong turns you eventually find yourself standing in front of the door through which you had entered the apartment a couple hours ago. And just as you put your hand on the doorknob, you feel someone snatch the bottle from you.

"What the-" you start and turn around, looking at pink hair and a deeply concerned face.

"What are you doing? Let me get you home." Yuji was completely sober again, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I really need to get som' fresh air Yuji, please jus' leave me 'lone" You slur, struggling to stay on your feet.

Yuji held the empty bottle in his left hand and grabbed your wrist with his right to keep you from falling.

"Y/N, please, don’t go out there by yourself. You can either sleep in my room or I’ll get you home." He tries to pull you away from the door but you stand your ground.

"Please just let me gooo." you beg, impatiently stomping with your feet after finding your balance again. "Let me go." you insist and try to pull your arm away from him.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Y/N" Yuji says and you have literally no idea on how to get out of this situation. It was not like he would just let you leave like this.

"Listn' I really don' need a babysitter and I have an Uber waiting for me, so please just lemme' go." you lie to him, hoping he would be satisfied with that.

"Bullshit, you did not call an Uber. That’s like a five minute walk, we’re right next to campus." he busted your lie. "What are you really up to, huh?" Yuji asks.

Choso and Yuji indeed lived right next to the campus. You had always asked yourself how they were able to afford this huge apartment and you figured that Choso not only consumed the drugs he hid here by himself - but also dealt them. That would explain at least a few things, for example all the people who constantly went in and out of here.

After a while of not answering him, Yuji finally lets go of your wrist and looks at the ground.

"You're looking for him, don't you?" he asks after meeting your gaze again. The look in his eyes made you feel so terrible and ashamed.

"Listen, he’s my best friend too, but he just beat up my brother and that look on his face? I don’t know Y/N, he looked like he was capable of anything in that moment." You tried to avoid his gaze, but no chance. It seemed like he pinned you to the wall with his eyes alone.

"I'm not looking for him- I'm-" you start when suddenly you get cut off by a few guys that were calling out for Yuji. As he turns around for a split second you immediately take advantage of him being distracted to open the door and slip outside.

You quickly walk in the direction of the stairs, your head spinning but you try to stay composed and take one step after the other before finally stumbling through the door downstairs onto the street.

The sky was completely black, not a single star in sight and the only light was coming from a few dimly lit street lamps. Thankfully it was still relatively warm outside.

You take a few shaky steps away from the building, still a bit afraid Yuji would follow you. You were in no condition to run from him.

For a while the sound of your heels on concrete is the only thing you can hear until you notice the faint buzz of your phone in your purse.

MEGUMI: "Meet me outside. I'll wait for you." Your heart starts beating faster.

The text was from about 30 minutes ago so you figure that you didn't have a signal upstairs in the apartment. You look up from the screen and turn around, trying to find where Megumi was waiting.

You flinch a little when suddenly a parked car on the side of the road starts its engine.

You recognize the black pickup truck and as the lights inside light up for a brief moment, you see Megumi sitting in the driver's seat. Your vision is still a bit blurry and your head’s dizzy but your legs are already carrying you towards the car.

He really expected you to come looking for him.

You open the car's door and slip into the passenger seat without saying a word. The lights inside are dimmed and you can only see his pale, slender fingers on the steering wheel. His dark clothes swallow him up and the hood of his sweater is pulled down over his face.

Megumi did not say a single word either, his face turned towards the windshield in front of him.

"Y/N!" you hear someone call out for you as you close the door behind you. Looking through the window you spot Yuji at the entrance door of the apartment building. He's holding the open door and watching you get into the car.

"Your dog’s already looking for you, huh?" Megumi asks without expecting an answer and starts the truck. He drives off before Yuji could even think about running after you.

Yuji's eyes were full of concern and yours were full of guilt as you turn to face him, but you quickly lower your gaze. You couldn’t stand looking at him. You knew how desperate he must feel right now.

At this point you wouldn't blame your friends if they never spoke to you ever again. The hours they spent worrying about you, the evenings they spent trying to talk you out of your relationship with Megumi.

It was all for nothing.

You slip out of your heels and throw them to the back of the truck. Megumi looked at you, one hand on the steering wheel. He watched you while you were rubbing your aching feet, trying to ease the pain from walking in these goddamn high heels for hours.

With his free hand he stroked your thigh, motioning you to put your legs in his lap.

"C'mere." you hear his deep voice and you hesitate for a second before you stretch your legs out towards him. He starts massaging your freshly pedicured feet with one hand, the other one gripping the steering wheel tightly. His eyes were focused on the road in front of him.

You close your eyes for a moment and enjoy the sensation of his touch, your whole body was aching and this right now was a blessing, no matter how awkward the situation was.

After a few minutes you feel the car speeding up. You knew that Megumi was probably still drunk but you also did not really care about it. It was not a big surprise to you that he would drive drunk and it was also not the first time he did this.

For a really long time neither of you said a single word and you were just enjoying his touch on your skin, without having to fill the silence.

"What were you thinking?" Megumi was the first to break the silence, eyes still fixated on the road. His voice was icy and it made you shiver.

"What d’you mean?" you ask, pretending to be clueless. Your head starts spinning a little as you open your eyes again.

"Don’t play dumb." Megumi huffed, looking over to you, directly into your eyes. "I mean you, sitting in Choso's lap, behaving like a slut in front of everyone."

"Mhm." you answer, turning your face away from him. You switch on the radio. 'After Hours' by The Weeknd starts playing, probably from some playlist you made for him.

"Technically, I wasn’t sitting in his lap." you say. You're not sure you would have had the courage to say that if Megumi hadn't been busy driving.

Even though you’re unsure of what to say next, you didn't want to submit to him again. You did not want to make yourself so small anymore.

"Shouldn’t the question be: Why the hell do you even care?" You shift your weight and put one foot up on his thigh, stroking his crotch through the fabric of his pants.

The last bit of alcohol in your blood gave you at least a little courage.

"It’s not like we are together anymore." you say teasingly as he looks over to you again.

Megumi grabs your leg, pushing it back down roughly. You wince, as his grip on your ankle is a bit too harsh.

"Ouch." you protest and he lets go of you. You send him an innocent smile and tilt your head to the side, as you continue to stroke his thigh with your foot. You feel a bulge growing in his crotch just seconds later

"So why does it matter to you?" He doesn’t answer. You see the grip of his hand tighten around the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he keeps on caressing your feet and legs, trying to push them down or hold you still but you don’t let him.

The two of you just sit in silence again, listening to the music without talking to each other.

"It matters because I don’t want to see that fucking bastard all over you, acting like he owns y-" Megumi says after a while but you cut him off.

"We’re not together anymore and you don’t get to beat up anyone I am involved with," You snap at him. "Cut your fucking bullshit Megumi, I am sick of this."

You don’t know how to feel. This is all so confusing - a big part of you is annoyed with him and so hurt and heartbroken, but the other part, probably even bigger, wants to nestle in against his chest and leave as little space as possible between the two of you.

And he knew that, too. That smug piece of shit knew you inside out, and acting was not exactly your strength.

"Then why are you here?" he asks and glances at you, both hands on the steering wheel again.

You think for a moment, look over at him, then out the window again. You skip to the next song and loll your legs in his lap now sitting on your side and resting against the back of the car seat.

"I guess I make terrible life choices and besides, you almost hospitalized my one chance at some superficial sex tonight so you have to deal with me now." You say, trying to sound almost bored. Or at least unbothered.

Megumi swallows, eyes still fixated on the road. You figured that this was not what he wanted to hear but to your surprise you hear him chuckle seconds later.

Well, as you had already noted: he knew you too well.

"Nah, don’t bullshit me." he sneered. "You started looking for me as soon as you arrived at that party. I saw you disappear with Yuji immediately after."

Megumi ignored your little show of pretending that all of this left you completely cold and you just wanted to end up in someones bed. It was a show after all.

"And I saw you getting out of that bathroom, holding hands with my best friend." You cross your arms. "Wearing the dress I bought for you. "

"I doubt that you wanted Choso to fuck you tonight." Megumi huffs, his deep voice making your heart race.

"I doubt that you wanted anyone else’s attention than mine." He was so right.

After a few more minutes of sitting in silence with the music playing softly in the background and Megumi driving off into the darkness, you roll the window all the way down. He looks over to you as you lean your head out slightly, hair waving in the breeze.

You take a deep breath and lean out a bit further, supporting yourself on the window frame. As you arch your back a little, your breasts start to perk up and you close your eyes to fully enjoy the cool night air blowing in your face. Besides the music and the sound of the engine it was so quiet outside. The world was asleep and somehow that comforted you.

You feel Megumi’s gaze on your body. His hands act upon his thoughts as he starts stroking up your calves, over your thighs and further up under your dress. You lean back inside and your eyes meet, but as always you couldn't quite read his expression.

You slowly pull your legs out of his lap and rest your feet on the dashboard. Without breaking eye contact you lift yourself up out of your seat, pulling up your dress a little and taking off your panties. His eyes widen for a second but he seems to try his best to stay composed.

In your perception, you didn't have much power over him. Not after he managed to read you like an open book once again. He was right about everything he said, even if you wish it was different.

You only went to that party because you hoped something like this would happen.

Megumi would probably not make that statement - even if it didn't seem like that to you, he knew you could bring him to his knees with the blink of an eye.

He swallows hard, turns away for a moment to look at the road and looks right back at you again. You feel his hand run across your thigh, squeezing gently.

You meet his gaze with the most innocent smile on your lips before you throw your panties in his direction.

Megumi's lips twitch as he takes a look at the pair of panties lying in his lap.

"I knew I was right." he says with a smug grin on his lips. You notice his eyes immediately scanning the road for an exit and you giggle as the car takes a sharp turn off into some run-down construction side.

"Well, you better hurry up, so you can make up for the amazing sex I would’ve had if it wasn’t for you." you purr and look up at him from big doe eyes.

He glances over, looking you up and down

"I will definitely make you regret saying that out loud." Megumi hums before he brings the car to a halt in the shadow of an unfinished building.

You roll the window back up and climb over to him without thinking twice, straddling his lap in the drivers seat. He grabs your hips to bring you into the right position and you smile down at him before you lower your lips to his neck.

"Promise?" you ask and feel his hands move all over your body before sliding under your dress, pushing it up and squeezing your ass with both of his hands while you’re leaving hickeys on his pale skin.

"God, I missed that feeling." he groans as you grind down on his lap. You can feel how hard he already was while dampening the fabric of his pants with your soaking wet pussy. You pull back for a moment and look into his eyes. Just seconds later your lips crash down on his, wet and sloppy as you hold his face with both of your hands.

His hands move further down your ass and you moan into his mouth when his fingers reach your slick heat, sliding through your wet folds. He teases you, circling your clit and your clenching hole lazily with two fingers. He deepens the kiss before your lips part with an audible pop! and you’re left to catch your breath.

His lips wander along your jaw and the side of your neck while your hands move from his face down his neck and over his chest, further down to his pants. Megumi’s hands are back on your ass to lift you up a little so you can try and open up his belt to pull down his trousers. With a hasty movement you relieve him of his pants and grind down on him immediately after.

You flinch a little when you feel his leaking tip brush against your sensitive clit. Letting out a quiet whimper you start grinding on him again, sliding his hard dick through your wet folds. He pulls you into another kiss, gentle at first before he nips at your bottom lip and then bites down hard. You pant and slide your tongue into his mouth, making him groan in return.

You pull away and look deep into his eyes, arms now wrapped around his neck. Megumi pulls you up again by your waist, positioning his cock at your wet entrance. You cry out in pleasure just as he pushes the fat tip of his cock inside you without giving you any time to adjust.

"Ahh, 'gumi! Fuck-" you moan. You lift yourself up again, the sensation of his dick filling you out being just too much to handle for you right now. Megumi looks at you, a crooked smile on his lips. Hands on your hips and lower back he pulls you closer to him, you can feel his hot breath against your neck.

"Too much?" He breathes into your ear. "Guess you didn’t fuck around after all."

"Good girl 'been waiting for me." he whispers, caressing your back with one hand before he thrusts up deep into your tight pussy, bottoming out completely. You squeal but have no chance of escaping him as he holds you in place with both of his hands.

"Ah- Fuck! Fuck- Megumi-" you whine, throwing your head back in pleasure.

"Shit- How are you so fucking tight?" you hear Megumi growl though clenched teeth as he holds you down for another moment to keep you from moving. Finally his grip on your hips loosens a little and you start grinding up and down, picking up the pace. Still, you felt how much he hated not having full control over you so he kept on guiding you with his hands.

He watched your pussy swallow his cock whole, going so deep and hitting spots inside you that made you cry out in pleasure and pain, his thick girth stretching you out just right.

Megumi is quick to push your dress further up your waist to expose your boobs, watching them bounce up and down as you keep on riding his dick. You moan out in pleasure while picking up the pace of grinding on his cock, making him pant and groan against your soft skin.

His gaze and hands wander all over your body, having your soaked cunt crush down on his cock even harder now that you were free to move however you liked. Megumi’s getting lost in watching your cute pussy bury him deep inside, creaming and slowly forming a white ring around his shaft.

Your head’s still thrown back in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of your tight hole clenching around his thick girth, your moans and gasps and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill up the car.

He watches you in awe as you fuck yourself on his cock exactly how you need it, whimpering, moaning and breathing so hard as he puts a thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles that make you flinch.

"You’re so fucking beautiful-" he groans, trying to catch his breath and coming back to reality as he notices your moans getting needier and your breathing getting harder.

"'Please 'gumi- need you to-" you babble, your grinding on his dick gets sloppier and after a few more lazy circles Megumi's hands move to your waist, squeezing the fat on your hips on his way up.

One hand on your waist, the other moving up, grabbing and squeezing your boobs before wrapping around your neck, he holds you in place as he roughly starts fucking up into you.

Your thighs were already shaking, his hand around your neck still squeezing tightly. You’re gasping for air while now being fucked at a brutal pace.

"Oh- Fuck- just like that Megumi-" you moan. "Please d-don’t stop- Just like that-" The quiet pleads leave your lips and you close your eyes, desperately trying to hold yourself up by supporting yourself with your hands on the window frame and steering wheel.

"You think Choso would’ve made you feel like this?" Megumi sneered, already leaving bruises on your neck by how hard he was squeezing down his hand. You try to shake your head but instead you can just let out a quiet whimper.

"Huh? You think he could’ve fucked you like I fuck you?" he spat, loosening his grip just as you begin to see stars forming in the corners of your eyes. You feel his hand on your cheek and a second later you hear a loud slap! followed by a stinging sensation on your face.

"I asked you a question." he growls, his thumb on your lips, pressing into your mouth. You begin to suck on it instinctively, your eyes half closed and your strength slowly leaving you because he was pounding so hard up into you.

"N-No- only you-" you whimper, voice breaking.

"Good girl," he praises "be a good little slut and keep squeezing me so tight." His thumb leaves your mouth and you fall forward a bit, losing the support of his hands. Your walls clench around him, turning you into a moaning mess against the hot, sweaty skin of his face.

"Fuck- such a good little whore for me, huh?" Megumi growls into your ear while your head rests against the side of his face. He’s still at a brutal pace, his thrusts getting even deeper and you can’t help but whimper and cry on top of him.

"P-Please- Can’t take n’more" you sob while he fucks into you relentlessly, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Please- Please let me cum-" you whimper, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Look at me." Megumi orders and you try to lean back again, supported by his strong arms holding you upright.

"F-Feels so good." you cry, squirming and wiggling under his touch, overwhelmed with the delicious feeling of his dick pumping in and out of you. He’s hitting all the right spots while your walls are squeezing him so tight. Megumi holds you in place, hands on your hips and lower back, not letting you move a centimeter to the side.

"Fuck- doing so good- now cum on my dick, be a good girl for me." Megumi groans, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Tears roll down your cheeks while you look deep into his dark eyes, black strands of hair sticking to the damp skin of his forehead.

With every thrust you feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter, with every brush of his shaft against your puffy clit you feel yourself getting closer to the edge until you feel that sweet release washing over your body with a final harsh thrust. Your lewd moans and your tight pussy clenching around his cock throw him over the edge just seconds later and you feel him pumping his load deep into you with a few feral groans escaping his lips.

"F-fuck- keep squeezing me so tight," he breathes into your ear, pressing your body as close as possible to his while you lazily continue to move up and down on his dick. "Good girl." Megumi moans. He holds you tight and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

For quite a long time you both are just trying to catch your breath, entwined in each others arms. The truck’s windows are steamed-up and only the shallow light of the moon falling through the windshield makes it possible for you to see anything at all.

"You’re something else." Megumi whispers after a while, his soft cock gliding out of your sticky cunt and his hot breath hitting your skin. He quickly pulls up his pants and pulls down your dress before he pulls you back into his lap, your body trembling under his touch.

"I missed you." he says and you feel so exhausted that you can only nestle into his chest, listen to his heartbeat and close your eyes, while he strokes your back gently.

"Let me stay the night. I’ll get you home." he whispers and plants a kiss on top of your hair.

"Not if you’ll leave me again." Your voice sounded so delicate and fragile, he had to pause and swallow before he could answer.

"I won’t." he says quietly.

"Please don’t leave me again." you repeat yourself and you feel a single tear forming in the corner of your eye that gets wiped away by Megumi’s hand caressing your cheek.

"I promise." You look up at him and he pulls you into a deep kiss. "I love you." you say quietly.

He doesn’t say anything.

"I still love you." You feel so vulnerable, it’s almost making you sick. "I don’t care about us fighting or fucking or obsessing over each other - deep down I know that I’m only capable of loving you."

"You’re the only one I want." You add in a low voice.

"I know." You hear Megumi’s muffled voice, his face is buried in your hair.

If only he could see the damage he did to you. How dependent you were, how much he was hurting you.

If only you could see how much you were pouring oil on his fire, how obsessed you were with him.

There was no happy end for the both of you and deep down you knew that.

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