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myfictionaldreams · 4 months

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Safety Measures // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Extra reading: Last Hope for background context

A/N: Happy New Year, beautiful readers! I hope everyone is well and safe.

Requested by: @theatrelove3000 thank you so so much for the request and all your support with my writing. As always, you're the best!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamory, ptsd, anxiety, paranoia, insomnia, discussion of past abuse, domestic fluff, dom/sub undertones, cock warming, subspace (kinda), hurt/comfort, new member of the family (yay!), puppy

Words: 4.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Insomnia was an issue you’d never had to deal with before. Not when you have two of the most powerful men of all of the East Coast tiring you out and wrapped around your body to make you feel safe and content.

However, as the seconds ticked by on the clock position on the nightstand next to the bed, you’d found that your body was willing to do anything but sleep. As midnight struck, any hope that had been inkling in your thoughts was diminished. There you were, half sprawled over Steve’s naked chest, his warmth burning through your skin, with Bucky spooning around your back, sandwiching you thoroughly between the two of them, legs crisscrossed between one another.

Even in the safe embrace, your heart continued to palpate painfully in your chest with such powerful thumps you were worried it would wake one of your lovers.

It was always this day. This date. Every year, that sprung fear through your soul, with the memories of your past returning to haunt you. Before Bucky. Before Steve or either of their safety and love, you’d been involved with your family business, reigned by your sadistic brother, Enzo, who was both hateful and abusive, causing you to live a life that was not worth living at all.

For countless years, you’d simply been floating through life, doing anything your brother demanded to benefit his gang. There was no hope, love, or light in your life until the men whose arms you were wrapped tightly in found you, saved you, and showed you what life was about. It hadn’t been an easy adjustment, especially with the violent and bloody end to your brother, but then readjusting to the newfound freedom had taken its toll. The anxiety from your past still haunts you to this very day.

In truth, in the first few years surrounding your brother's death anniversary, you’d celebrated the beginning of your new happiness and life. However, as you grew older and had to live through the dangers of being in the most infamous mafia gang in Brooklyn, your optimistic perspective became somewhat fragile with the realities of becoming close to losing everyone and everything you loved on multiple occasions.

So now, when this dark day loomed over your head once more, your anxiety rose along with the reminder of the horrors that you’d experience throughout your lifetime. Paranoia blossomed into something that was logically not plausible, frightened that somehow, Enzo would return and take you back to the hell hole he once kept you contained within.

These fears had been discussed with both Steve and Bucky on multiple occasions, as well as your friends, who promptly reminded you that nowhere was safer on earth than with all of them. There was 24/7 surveillance within the office and your home, guards patrolling, all armed and trained, as well as having the enhanced bodies of your boyfriends always at your side.

You were safe.

Safe.

And yet, still, there you lay. Wide awake, breaths shallow, trying to remain as quiet as possible so that you may listen to any sounds of intruders walking through your home. It is an impossible feat to do either way due to the pounding of your heartbeat without your ears, the repetitive thump and drum that increased in speed over the minutes. Your palms were becoming clammy where they were resting on Steve’s chest, a faint tremble beginning to throb through your limbs as well. You closed your fingers into a tight fist, attempting to cease the shaking whilst blowing out a long breath as the clock ticked to 00:01 am.

It was no use. You couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t just simply lay there and wait to be attacked or taken.

Carefully as you could, you attempted to climb out of your fierce hold, but due to your fragile state and the firm grip of Steve and Bucky, the movements stirred them both awake.

“Baby? Everything ok? Where are you going?” Steve asked, still half asleep but attempting to rouse himself more by rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Sorry”, you whisper into the darkness, “I just needed to use the bathroom”. The lie trembled from your lips as you clumsily searched the bedroom floor for some clothing to cover your naked body. From the smell of the shirt that you were now tugging over your head, you’d found Bucky’s t-shirt in the dark. As your eyes adjusted to remain in the darkness, you could see Bucky moving closer to Steve on the bed, his face resting on the blonde's chest, replacing where you’d been.

The sight had you smiling for a split second before a rustle of the wind against the windows drew your frightened attention back to reality. Stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you, there was a stalling moment where the walls seemed to close around you. Strangling. Suffocation. The fears of your past squeezing closer.

“No”, you chastise yourself in a whisper barely audible as you take a single sweeping step towards the sink, running the cold water to splash it on your face. “Enzo is dead. Stop freaking out, you’re being ridiculous!”. Yes, you were having a conversation with yourself, but only because it was a coping mechanism before you completely lost your mind and had a panic attack.

“Get a hold of yourself!”, you continue the monologue whilst staring at your distressed reflection in the mirror. “You’re safe here in your home”. For some reason, your bottom lip began quivering with the rising emotions and the overwhelming urge to cry. Giving your body a thorough head-to-body shake and angrily wiping away the traitorous tears dripping down your cheeks, you also gave yourself stern talking.

“Either you get yourself together, or you embarrass yourself and wake up Steve and Bucky”. You wouldn’t, not when it was something as irrational as being frightened that your definitely deceased deranged brother would somehow return from the dead to steal you to a life of misery. You couldn’t stomach waking them from their slumber to see the sad puppy eyes they would give you as they told you all the things you already knew. You were safe with them; they’d never let anything bad happen.

Filling your lungs with air, you blew out a long, slow breath until your lungs were completely empty. “Right. One search of the house and back to bed”, you decided, needing to check the surroundings with the hopes it would ease your battle with anxiety and insomnia.

Upon leaving the ensuite bathroom, you were thankfully greeted by the sound of two distinctively soft snores from both men still lying together in bed. Tip-toeing past them and into the hallway, you made sure to keep the lights off with your eyes having adjusted to the darkness as you approached Steve’s office.

There were a few things that you needed from this room. Firstly, to check the security camera feeds from his laptop, showing every angle possible surrounding the house and inside the many rooms of the luxury property. The baseball bat was also hiding beneath the desk. It was one of many weapons stashed throughout your home, carefully placed by both Bucky and his bodyguard Natasha and even though a gun would be a swifter finale for any intruder, there were still more consequences if you were to shoot the firearm accidentally and hit the wrong target whereas, with a bat, you could still keep someone at arm's length and also not fatally wound a friend if they came knocking at the door.

Clutching the smooth bat in both of your trembling hands, you watched the screen, flicking between rooms and areas of the exterior of your home, not spotting a single leaf out of place. In fact, the only emotion that seemed to bloom through your chest was adoration as you stared at the bedroom video feed, noticing that Bucky was now the bigger spoon, wrapped thoroughly around Steve, whose hands were stretched out to your side of the bed, like in his unconscious state, he was still searching for you.

Guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the sight, and closed the laptop with a sigh. You knew this paranoia would fade by the time tomorrow came around. Still, it was completely illogical for you to react rationally today, so with a sigh that echoed around the office, you stood and began to search the property physically.

Holding the bat at arm's length, you peeked around corners first then swung before stepping out. You'd been trained to use all the weapons scattered throughout the house with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha, even with how to strike with a baseball bat effectively.

Every shift of shadows out of the corner of your eyes and every creak of the house naturally settling or knocking with the raging winds outside had your heart racing and senses going into full alert.

One check of the house turned into four full sweeps to ensure no one was there. It was also a slow and thorough check, so by the time you were stepping carefully through the kitchen, glancing out of the back window and into the dark abyss that was your back garden. The creak of footsteps echoed from upstairs; you’d become lost and disorientated on the search, and you had neglected to check the time.

05:03 am.

A sniffle and quiet cough followed the footsteps of the man who had decided to wake earlier than most. In a rush of adrenaline and the need to not be found with a baseball bat in hand like a crazy lady in the dark, you decided to hide the weapon in one of the kitchen cupboards and quickly pretended to be preparing coffee as the sleepy steps wandered down the carpeted stairs.

Placing two cups onto the kitchen counter, you almost held your breath in anticipation for the morning grumbly welcome by whoever had woken first. Steve and Bucky both like to be awake early, much to your usual pleas for them to stay in bed.

However, as the man walked into the kitchen, not a single word was shared as he stepped up close behind you, enveloping your body in a warm and metal arm, wrapping tightly around your waist and pulling you backwards until flush against a naked chest. Stubbled cheeks nuzzled into your neck as lips gently kissed the sensitive skin as you sighed, eyes closing and all tension diminishing into the floor at the feeling of finally being safe.

The two of you swayed on the spot, wrapped in the tight embrace, listening to the water in the coffee pot. One of your hand gripped onto the metal fingers, feeling the smooth material beginning to warm and match the temperature of your skin. The other hand lifted to rest on the back of his head, scratching his buzzed hair, earning a comforting moan from Bucky as he kissed your jaw.

“It’s a rare day when you’re awake before me”, Bucky whispers into the shell of your ear before kissing it. Goosebumps lined your body with the gruff tone of his early morning voice. He didn’t pester you any more about why you were awake at this time, but he did pinch the hem of your shirt. “Is it your plan to always wear my shirts so I must be topless?”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, shaking your head as you poured the coffee into each cup. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

The two of you sat at the dining room table, coffee in one hand and in the other you held onto one another, admiring the night turn into the day with dawn breaking over the fences that lined the back garden. It was blissful and a welcomed distraction from the terrors beneath your surface.

Steve eventually joined, groaning about waking up alone as he kissed you, then Bucky on the back of the head. “Who knew the big grown mafia boss could be so needy?” Bucky quipped with a teasing smirk over the rip of his cup before taking another glug of the coffee.

“That’s a lot of sass for someone who will be going without any breakfast if he keeps it up”, Steve grumbles as he looks through the refrigerator to start preparing the three of you breakfast like he did on most mornings. Before Bucky could respond, Steve asked curiously, “Why is there a baseball bat in with the plates?”

Your eyes downcast to stare into your empty cup, shrugging your shoulders at the burning stares of your boyfriends. “I don’t know. Anyway, who wants a fresh coffee?”

Thankfully, nothing more was mentioned regarding the random appearance of the baseball bat as the three of you ate and prepared to head into the office. You were thankful for the distraction working in the gang gave you, especially on a stressful day like today. Although the paranoia and anxiety that had kept you awake still bubbled away beneath the surface.

On the car journey to work, even squished between Steve and Bucky in the back seats, their hands eagerly resting on the naked skin of your thighs, having pushed the dress up to have the contact. Even your bodyguard and best friend Sam, who was driving the vehicle, couldn’t ease the panic that came from every car horn that blared, the dangerously speeding vehicles that passed or just the erratic driving that was expected with other idiots on the road.

Every single disruption had you anticipating that the car you were in would be hit or stopped, and your brother would then arrive and drag you away. Of course, this didn’t happen, and as you came to work, another heavy sigh released from your body as you walked through the extensive security to get to the office.

New shipments of discreetly stolen goods had arrived, which was a welcome distraction for you, checking the quality and organising where and to whom it would be sold. This only lasted for an hour before the coldness began to creep in, and you made excuses to return to Steve and Bucky back in the office.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Bucky reminds you carefully whilst pulling your chair closer to his. You couldn’t meet his intense stare as you shifted your body under his awaiting arm so you were cuddled close to his side.

“Yep”, you respond casually, leaning into his warmth.

Bucky’s face lowered to your ear as he stroked his fingers down your arm. “And you also know you’re safe with me. With Steve. In this building or home. I’d do anything to keep you safe, Doll”.

You smile politely at him, trying to ignore the guilt that, for some reason, passed over you as you reached to take his hand that was draped over your shoulders. “I know”.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Bbcky checking his phone for the 15th time in an hour. Not that you’d been counting.

Finally, he seemed to receive the notification he’d been waiting for as he suddenly sprung up from his seat, pulling his leather jacket swiftly.

A frown settled over your features as you sat forward, “where are you going?”

Bucky glanced towards Steve first before addressing your question. “I’ve just got some errands to run, nothing special. I won’t be long, Sweetheart”.

He was leaving you. On a day when you needed him most so that you felt safe, he for some reason had to go.

You stood abruptly, pushing back your chair and taking urgent steps towards him whilst nervously playing with your fingers. “You’re going to leave me on my own!”

“Who am I? The milkman?” Sam joked from where he was standing near the door, and you instantly regretted the words, having not meant them that way. What’s worse is that Steve muttered something under his breath from his desk and now you were riddled with more guilt as Bucky’s sad eyes turned to you, his hands resting heavily on your shoulders.

“I won’t be long, and maybe you’ll get a surprise later.” He tried to bring a smile to your lips, but it was worthless as you were caught between staring at Sam and Steve, trying to find the words to apologise. Bucky breathed heavily through his nose at seeing you distraught, but then his phone pinged again, so with one last kiss to your temple, he made his way to the exit.

Turning to Sam whilst awkwardly rubbing your cheek to ease the burning of embarrassment under your skin, you attempted to apologise, but Steve cut off your sentence. “I’m sorr-”.

“Baby, come here”.

Turning towards the comforting voice, you saw that Steve’s full attention was now on you. He’d moved his seat away from his desk and opened his arm, a clear sign for you to approach, which you did with rushed steps before climbing into his warm, sturdy lap. Your knees rested on either side of his thighs as your fingers caded through the curling blonde hair at the nape of his neck which you were quick to bury your face into, breathing in his calming cologne.

“I’m sorry about the comment; I didn’t mean it like that. I know I’m not alone. My head is just all over the place and-”.

“Shh, I know, baby, you don’t need to explain yourself. I know you’d rather us both be around for you today”. There it was. The one small mention and reference made by someone else that this was a day that you hated. It’s not that it needed to be spoken about as it had been clear that both of your boyfriends had been trying their hardest to be there for you today by being at your side as much as possible, constantly checking in with your emotions and making sure you ate and drank enough.

But Steve saying it out loud seemed to make it all the more real, so as you clung to him with more desperation, his arms did just the same until it felt as if there wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t currently being touched by his giant frame.

“I love you, Steve, so much”, you plead to him in a tired daze, finally feeling somewhat safe now that you were crowded into his body.

“I’d do anything for you, baby girl, you know that. I love you too. Try and get some sleep; it’ll make the day go faster”.

You wanted to and knew you could if you’d let your eyes drop close, but something still wasn’t sitting right like an itch that needed to be scratched.

“Could I please make one request… sir?” you say, nerves beginning to flicker through your chest at the intimacy of the request, already starting to switch into the role of the submissive mind, especially after the fragile state you’d been in all day.

Steve seemed to straighten his posture at using the name, and his lips kissed the top of your head a few times before he responded, “Anything”.

Lifting your head away from his neck and gazing into the endlessly intense blue eyes that always looked so kindly down at you, you asked, “Please can we touch everywhere? I just want to sit and be close”.

Steve tried not to smile at the innocence and the way you couldn’t even say the words, ‘Please can I cock warm you?’ which he knew was what you were asking. Reaching between your bodies, he began to undo his belt and zipper, “You know you don’t need to ask, Sweetheart. I want you to feel comfortable”.

You could never explain to someone why you loved the thought of cock warming so much. It seemed to settle both your nerves and put you into a relaxing state. Not at all times, though. Half the time, it would just turn you into a horny, wet mess that ended with you riding the cock until at least three orgasms. But other times, such as now, you just needed to be stretched and feel as close to Steve as possible.

Lifting higher onto your knees, you moved aside your underwear and lifted the front of your dress as you manoeuvred yourself to accommodate the toe-curling length that was Steve Rogers. Through your groaning sigh, you couldn’t hear Steve’s matching noise as he made sure you were comfortable with a steading arm around your hips before shuffling his seat closer to the desk and continuing with his work and talking to Sam about an email he’d just received.

You were asleep before hearing the end of the email being read out. Your head is resting on his shoulder, hands loosely holding onto the material of his crisp navy blue shirt. You were warm, full and safe.

Hours later, as the sun began to set and the day passed, you were still drowsy, much more relaxed than you had been in the morning. You’d wake up to Steve packing his belongings and Sam saying he’d warm the car for you and Steve.

As you gathered your disorientated thoughts and tried to sit up, you noticed that Steve was very much still thoroughly hard inside of your soaked cunt. Silently, you thanked whatever super serum had been injected into him during his time in the army. You clenched at the realisation, and Steve hummed in contentment at realising you were waking up.

“Let’s get you home. Bucky’s waiting there for us”, Steve informed quietly whilst cupping your cheek tenderly.

With the position you’d been sitting in, your legs were sore and tense, but Steve was more than happy to carry you down, even with his cock still inside. However, with the movements of his steps, it caused his length to ease in and out of your already sensitive cunt that by the time you’d made it to the car, you were clinging desperately to his shoulders as an orgasm rushed through you, pulsing between your legs.

Steve’s knees nearly buckled as he rested your frame against the side of the car, his face dropping to your neck as he breathed you in deeply. Your cunt continued to clench around his cock until he, too, joined you in euphoria with a deep grunt and a snap of his hips; warmth flooded your hole and began dripping out and onto the floor. Neither of you or his employees batted an eyelid as both of you came.

Once in the car, you were so distracted with cleaning each other up that the idiots in other vehicles that had panicked you on the way in, didn’t remotely phase you.

Wishing Sam a good night, you and Steve walked up to your front door, hand in hand. Steve opened the front door for you, letting you walk into the living room first, where you abruptly stopped, causing the blonde to nearly knock into you.

“I promise I tried to stop him, but he’s a feral little beast!” Bucky exclaimed from where he sat on the floor, surrounded by something that could only be described as chaos.

It seemed all of the decorative pillows had been utterly destroyed as the contents of the fluff covered all of the surfaces. Not only this, but there were half-eaten shoes, and the corners of the couches and coffee table seemed to have tiny bite marks gnawed into them.

“Bucky?! What did you do?” You couldn’t even comprehend where the mess began and ended as you looked at your dishevelled boyfriend sitting on the floor. Well, he was more lying down, reaching beneath one of the couches as he began to sit up and plastered a wide, toothy grin towards you.

“Surprise!” Bucky shouts with exhausted joy as Steve sighs with a shaky laugh from behind you.

“Surprise? What kind of a surprise is my home being destroyed?” you say, gobsmacked, staring longingly at your favourite cushions ripped to shreds.

As Bucky opened his mouth to explain, a tiny yap sounded from beneath the furniture where he’d just been reaching, and suddenly, a bundle of black fur was pounding for your ankles. It took you a second to drop to your knees and gasp, reaching for the puppy.

“Careful! His teeth are viscous”, Bucky warns, trying to reach forward to grab the animal, but you beat him to it and pull the pup into your lap.

“Oh my god, look at you! Aren’t you just the most beautiful little thing! Was it you that destroyed my lovely cushions? It was, wasn’t it? That’s okay. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you for everything. You're just so damn cute!” you couldn’t help but talk in a childishly high voice as you spoke to the adorable little puppy.

Thankfully, he didn’t bite you with his tiny sharp teeth and instead rolled onto his back on your legs, his paws resting in the air as he waited for a belly rub you happily gave him with carefully placed head kisses.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting a new guard dog! And what happened to the rule of not letting them into the house?” you asked Bucky as you continued to pet the pup.

Steve squatted down next to you, reaching to stroke the puppy behind his ears but then quickly retreating as the tiny sharp teeth nearly nipped his fingers. “He’s not going to be a guard dog; he’s going to be your dog”.

Your head spun with how fast you looked between your boyfriends as you screamed, “What?!”

“Yep! He’s all yours. He’s a Rottweiler and is eight weeks old. They’re known to be a protective breed and great guard dogs, so we will have him properly trained a couple of times a week for this, but we also want him to be yours”. As Bucky explained he knelt closer which earned the attention of your new puppy who watched him closely but continued to lick your fingers in between as you scratched the top of his head.

Steve rested a firm hand on your lower back as he continued, “We know how difficult today is, even with our reassurance that you are safe from Enzo”. Even just hearing his name, your whole body tightens and locks, almost forgetting to breathe until a certain puppy begins to wiggle and try and jump up your body to attempt to lick your face, having noticed the change in demeanour. “We wanted there to be someone around for you all the time, just with the chance that you could still feel safe if Bucky or I weren’t by your side. So, we are hoping this little rascal will be able to do this”, Steve says playfully, stroking along the puppy's back but quickly withdrawing when he nearly nipped again.

“Thank you. Both of you. I don’t even know where to begin with telling you how amazing this gift is”, you say brightly, glancing between the two men you loved most in the world.

“Don’t thank us; it’s the least we could do”, Steve mutters whilst leaning in to kiss your cheek and then standing up, beginning to grab handfuls of fluff from all the surfaces with an attempt at cleaning up the mess.

“I just want you to be happy”, Bucky whispers whilst kissing your other cheek, but then his gaze moves to the puppy, and a line forms between his brows as he frowns. “There will be some ground rules, though. No dog on the couch or in bed. We need boundaries”.

You nod your head in understanding but lean closer to whisper to the pup loud enough that Steve and Bucky could still hear. “Don’t listen to the grumpy old man. You can stay wherever you’d like!”

Bucky sighs whilst rolling his eyes and begins to help Steve with cleaning.

The three of you were sat in front of the TV watching a late-night film. The four of you were sitting on the couch as the puppy was resting in your lap, exhausted from all the playing you’d been doing and now resting as you tried to think of a name for the little guy.

“What about Winchester? That’s a good dog name, right?” you ask the boys, but mostly the dog, hoping he would react to one of the suggestions, but he hasn’t succeeded so far. You pondered some more whilst petting his little black ears. “Oh, what about Sargeant?! No… what about Rogers? No…”. You gave up trying to think of a name off the top of your head and began to scroll for suggestions online.

“Max? Brutus? Thor? Um, nope, these aren’t good. Chase? Ari? Bullet? Dodger? Bli-” Your suggestions stop as the puppy’s head tilts to look at you, seeming more awake. “What is it? Is it one of the names? Ari?” No response, “Bullet?” still no response. “Dodger?” his precious little tail began to wag as he yapped.

“Dodger? You like that name?” he barked again, attempting to climb higher up your body to lick your face as you laughed fondly.

“Dodger it is”, Steve announced from your side with a smile.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #stucky #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #marvel smut #mafia au #mafia stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mine*

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Yandere DILF! Reaction to You seeing Him as a Fatherly Figure

Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour, Delusional Behaviour, Freudian “Logic”, Age Gap, Implication of Murder, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

♡ The D in DILF stands for ‘Delusional’.

♡ At least, in Dominic’s case.

♡ When you first told him that you saw him as your “Dad away from home !” he spiralled.

♡ At first, in the immediate fallout of your bombshell statement (one which you gave little thought to, seeing it only as a compliment), Dominic smiled, a dry, thin, almost watery smile, and paid you a compliment back – something suave and reflexive; the technique he’d learnt as a younger man that freed him of consequence on many occasions.

♡ And, like clockwork, you give a laugh and a smile, yet you do not succumb to abashment.

♡ Just another reason why you stand out to Dominic; why he loves you so.

♡ Your comment stays with him long after you’ve left.

♡ And, initially terrified that this was all you’d ever see him as – just some guy who could be your step-in father when your real one was away – he tried to rationalise it. Nullify it.

♡ For days afterwards, Dominic assesses his behaviour, searches for the instigator of his ‘fatherly’ aura.

♡ True, he is an actual father to two children, which he can’t exactly “correct” (not legally, anyway).

♡ After racking his brain, searching for any way to nullify his fatherly appeal, he has a flash of brilliance.

♡ Instead of neutralising it, he decides to lean into it; to amplify it and add his own charm to such a degree so to make himself more appealing to you in ways a father could not be.

♡ Cue Dominic’s Freud era.

♡ Fr though, he’s so desperate to turn your appreciation into attraction that he endorses the whole insane theory that a man’s offspring will compete for their father’s romantic attention with their peers (gross, I know).

♡ He’s turning up the DILF factor.

♡ Sleeves half-drawn up to his elbows to show off his forearms (the ones which he’s worked tirelessly on at the gym); giving you one of his shirts to wear when he “accidentally” gets yours wet during a summer water fight – things like that.

♡ Things that are a gateway for him to show that he ‘cares’.

♡ Really pressing into that ‘fatherly’ image.

♡ Prepare to be praised 24/7.

♡ Only when his wife isn’t in earshot, though.

♡ “Oh, what a wonderful painting ! Such a pretty little picture, Darling…”

♡ He’ll lean over you, trapping you between his arms as you sit at the table, bringing himself as close to your body as he can without arousing your suspicion or making you uncomfortable.

♡ Definitely the type to lean against doorframes or walls just so he can cross his arms over his chest and show off his bulging biceps.

♡ He calls you a good girl or good boy whenever you do something that pleases him.

♡ In his own way, he’s trying to train you to seek his validation.

♡ Dominic’s a master at reading a room, and he uses this power of perception to act when he knows you’re at your most accepting. Or your most vulnerable.

♡ Had a bad day at work ? He offers you his open arms, his shirt sprayed with an irresistible collection of colognes to create a distinct scent (one which he’s also tried on others with positive effects. Though, as previously discussed, things which sent his prior conquests wild seemingly have little effect on you).

♡ You have something big to celebrate ? He’ll take that opportunity – your good mood – to pull you into his arms, lower his lips to your ear and congratulate you: “That’s such good news, Sweetie !” he says, laying on the pet names. Then, his volume dips as he pulls you just a little closer, just brushing the area between your legs with his thigh.

♡ “I’ll have to take you out somewhere so we can celebrate properly.”

♡ As to what this is will be a mystery to you until a box is delivered to your doorstep, a formal outfit inside, coupled with a note with the address of an upscale restaurant, and…

♡ A keycard to a hotel room.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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itsmajel · 21 days

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Hey everyone! Just popping in to share some new artwork with you all. Evan Buckley is canonically bisexual, and even though I've been on a bit of a media and art break, I had to come back to celebrate this momentous occasion. Seriously, my brain won't stop shouting 'Buck is bi!' on repeat. So, without further ado, here's a cute bi!Buck sticker design. I couldn't decide which version I liked more, so I'm sharing both with you. Sending lots of love your way. Bye for now!

#911 abc #evan buckley #bi!buck #buck is bi #911 fanart #evan buckley fanart #911 #majel arts

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aemvnd · 8 days

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𝓇.cameron. ┆ blaze.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ a lil late. ‹3 but happy 𝟒/𝟐𝟎 to the angels who celebrate. !!! 🍃♡ྀི also... i'm high as shit rn so sry for any typos—i'll fix 'em later, mwa! 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜.

jus' thinkin' abt rafe celebrating 4/20 with his girl . <3

you're with your boyfriend that's still dealing at the time, some marijuana and some coke on the low, and you already know you're getting your little stash for free. rafe spends the last three days making sure he had the best, richest, and highest quality product of weed being shipped for his girl to smoke just in time for 4/20.

typically, rafe didn't let his girl consume any type of drug, even marijuana, and even the lightest of those fruity cocktails you love so much at the country club are just enough to get you drunk after only one or two, so he knows even with 4/20 quickly approaching, he's still going to keep a protective, and firm eye on you at all times.

especially now, since rafe is supposed to be inviting a few of his friends over at tannyhill since rafe's father and his new wife, rose, are on some far, far away vacation, which rafe couldn't give less of a fuck about, preferring to have tannyhill all to himself besides his little sisters, but he doesn't bother with them as much as he used to once he was in a serious relationship with you.

rafe even promised you that he would stop antagonizing the pogues, but only if they disrespect me first, he'd said in return, rather sulkily and reluctant, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend for you and he knew you didn't like violence of any kind.

once 4/20 finally came, you were already high as a cloud come noon, one of rafe's arms wrapped snuggly around your shoulders, tannyhill buzzing with a few people, but rafe doesn't really care about them right now, especially now with the way you're being all sweet and whiny for rafe's attention, acting all submissive and needy and breedable for your daddy—which, of course, rafe didn't mind at all, he liked you like this the most, so sweetly obedient and paying all of your attention on him and only him.

"yeah, princess? y'need somethin', hm?" he breathes teasingly into your ear, watching as your pouty, glossy lips (that tasted like cotton candy) smacked together noisily, making rafe smirk and his head was already quickly processing that you most likely needed a new refreshment.

without a care in the world about who was watching him and his girl, with you already in his lap comfortably, like the princess he always claims you are, sitting prettily and smiling dreamily, doe-like eyes heavy and red, long eyelashes fluttering slowly like a kitten, both freshly done and fluffy and making you appear like a perfect little doll, hanging all over your man as his big hands fondle your asscheeks under your pretty, little babydoll pink miniskirt that was covered with a layer of pretty white lace—my angel, rafe had complimented you earlier, making you all shy and bashful, like you usually were around your boyfriend.

"a'ight, baby… lemme − lemme go get you another water, and then we'll spark up again, yea?" rafe murmurs against your ear, his breath hot and smelling mostly of the overly intoxicating fragrance of the weed you'd all been taking turns taking hits from, mostly from fat blunts and the occasional little joint for the past few hours.

instantly, you breathily mewl in protest and hold onto your boyfriend tighter, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him like a little girl that clings to their father.

softly, rafe breathes a light, amused little chuckle, used to your neediness, but knowing you're being extra clingy right now due to the drug and the tiny, few sips of those fruity, alcoholic seltzers that taste like the sweetest thing you can imagine, something that rafe wrinkles his nose at every time he watches you drink them, but pretends to like them for your sake, though he prefers something… stronger.

usually, if it wasn't a special occasion, rafe would bring you to an empty bedroom in whichever house-party he usually brings you along to, with you hanging tightly (and anxiously) onto your boyfriend's arm, letting him lead you upstairs with a large, possessive hand on your lower back, practically resting on your plump, perky little ass, guiding you to some random room to make out for a bit.

and then, after rafe gets bored of just messily making out with you, he fucks your brains out until you're all 'babied brained'—as rafe has occasionally called it, though was actually subspace, but rafe wasn't that thoroughly educated, and again, didn't give a fuck about searching up what it meant when he fucks his girlfriend senseless and within an inch of her life.

of course, rafe could search it up, but it didn't truly interest him and he thought it was just normal, and besides, he already knew you enjoyed being coddled by him and doted on by him after sex, so he figured he didn't need to worry too much—plus, even if he didn't want to admit it, it was a win-win situation for the kook prince, with rafe needing to always hold onto some part of you, especially after being intimate together.

and again, rafe didn't mind your clinginess, practically relishing in it, his ego growing more and more the more he realized how codependent you were becoming on him.

back in the present, rafe feels you begin pressing glossy, sticky kisses all over the side of his face, leading down to his already marked-up neck, causing him to let out a soft, low grunt of frustration and arousal.

"baby," rafe gently chastises, already knowing your sparkly, clear lipgloss with the light undertone of pastel pink—and yes, you always give rafe a haul of every makeup product you buy, using his money, of course—but again, rafe doesn't mind, enjoying the fact that his obedient little princess was becoming so dependent on him for everything, always needing him for something, and rafe... rafe doesn't care what you need from him, if it's something serious or dumb, he'll be there within minutes.

however, in rafe's mind, it's as long as you remember that rafe is your man and you don't need to be calling anyone else for help—that's what rafe was there for, to take care of you and fuck your pretty little pussy, and someday, perhaps sooner rather than later, rafe will pump a large, scorching load into you, deep inside of your womb… that way, you'll never be able to leave him, rafe thinks.

rafe breathes out a small sigh, his thick, muscular arms still wrapped around you, possessively and obsessively, wanting to keep you as close as possibly—meanwhile, he starts his own sloppy, passionate kisses against your lips, smearing your pretty lipgloss against his own lips, tasting how sweet you are, but once again, rafe doesn't give fuck, and he won't give a fuck when you complain to him that you have to reapply your lipgloss again, even though you do so every five minutes anyways.

"lemme jus' go get you another water, sweetcheeks," rafe coos against your lips, suppressing a smile at your instant pout, but quietly observes as you silently and simply crawl off of his lap, sitting to the side of him on one of the usual balcony outdoor furniture sofa's, it was a wooden wicker sofa with plush, probably thousands of dollars worth of cushions that rafe dragged you along to sit with him, but you didn't care, impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to come back to you.

it barely takes five minutes for rafe to return back to you, but there you sit, scrolling through your phone with a cute, bored pout on your plump lips, a fresh coat of your sugary lipgloss already applied, making your lips look extra kissable.

swiftly, rafe takes his seat back down next to you, opening the fresh water bottle for you, a hand going to your lower back casually, while his free hand guides the water up to your mouth, not even having to say anything, already watching as you perk up a bit and lean forward, taking a few eager sips, giving your boyfriend a grateful smile once he sets the water down beside himself when you finish.

with long, deft fingers, and a gorgeous, shiny golden ring decorating his index finger with the cameron family's symbol, rafe easily pulls out a freshly rolled, thickly stuffed blunt from behind his ear, already pulling out a lighter and swiftly lighting the end of it, curling one of his large, calloused hands around the newly burning tip so the spring breeze wouldn't blow out the cherry of the freshly rolled blunt.

"where'd you get that?" you hum curiously, a dreamy, pretty smile curling across your freshly coated glossy lips, already pressing yourself back into rafe's side, one of his thick, tanned arms thrown over your shoulders, keeping you close against him as he stuffs the lighter into the pair of his typical black nike shorts he'd been wearing since the weather has been warm and beautiful, summer coming quicker than you'd thought.

"rolled this f'us when i went inside to grab you a fresh water," rafe explains nonchalantly, still high off of the weed, but also the few bumps of coke he snorted just minutes ago, grabbing his girl his personal stash of the best quality of weed he had, saving it for you, knowing you were gonna beg him to let you smoke once 4/20 came—and strangely, the longer he'd been around you, and the fact that you two have been dating for a few months, the oldest cameron sibling was growing more and more attached to you as time passed, giving nearly into your every whim, no matter your request.

unless, of course, your request had something to do without him.

"you wanna shotgun this with me, baby?" rafe purrs lazily, taking a long hit of the cherry flavored blunt that was currently between his soft, pink lips, still slightly sticky from your previous kisses.

you let out a small, happy noise of agreement, nodding your head gently as you wrap both of your arms around rafe's non-dominant arm, feeling his muscles rippling every time he moved to be closer to you, his pretty girl.

and then, then you see rafe take another long drag, before casually leaning over you completely, pressing you down slightly against the back of the outdoor sofa, a hand holding the burning blunt between two fingers, while his other, much more dominant hand is now curled around your throat, holding you in place with a firm, but gentle grasp as he easily, and slowly, blows the smoke from his lungs into yours—your long, fluffy mink lashes fluttering prettily as the dizzying smoke fills your lungs and clouds your brain, making you smile another dreamy, happy smile.

meanwhile, before you even have time to respond, rafe is kissing you once more—again, this time more deeply, messily, mouth opened as his tongue sucks and plays with yours, humming in content after a long moment once he pulls back, an amused smirk on his kiss-swollen lips, similar to your own swollen lips, your lips smeared with your lipgloss once again, but you don't really care this time.

"this some good shit—huh, baby?"

513 notes · View notes

fyorina · 2 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place.

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?”

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with.

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry.

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?”

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly.

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off.

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up.

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now?

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him.

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take.

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed.

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street.

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!”

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?”

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him.

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him.

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down.

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?”

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic.

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours.

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?”

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly.

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining.

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall.

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly.

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile.

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps.

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair.

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint.

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida.

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile.

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm.

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay.

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you.

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him.

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair.

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand.

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?”

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later.

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall.

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost.

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency.

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on.

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist.

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again.

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.”

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile.

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down.

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this.

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off.

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy.

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity.

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble.

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter.

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved.

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?”

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it.

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you.

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly.

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.”

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this.

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him.

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights.

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away.

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless.

“Deal.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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theyluvkarolina · 27 days

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐀𝐍-𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` balkans do it better!! ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ dna results say oscar is part ex-yugoslavian! and what better way to reconnect with your culture than with your balkan gf?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ oscar piastri x (fem) yugo-balkan!reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ none!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ reader is targeted for a specific group of people, however, all people are able to read and enjoy the story!

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ oscar having yugoslav ancestry is so loehfkw;ejh;liuehvei 😮‍💨😵‍💫 takes place after belgian gp. also idk if it’s obvi but i’ve been obsessed with the chicken date video and lando w/ amelia and their social media comments.

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎

y/n_l/n81 moj australijanac ♡ I know the season isn't over yet but I'm so proud of you and everything you accomplished. from meeting each other due to our bad directions, to coming to your first ever f1 races and losing my voice from screaming at how scared i was for you on the track. loving you from now to forever! 🧡

tagged ; oscarpiastri

4,356 comments

oscarpiastri ✔︎ those are definitely some photos of me..

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ they show how much of a cutie you are :)) → oscarpiastri ✔︎ …ok whatever you say → landonorris ✔︎ you don’t see it but he’s blushing and kicking his feet 🤭 🤭 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ is he really?? 🤭 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no comment

username1 everyday i strive to have a relationship like y/n and oscar.

username2 they are so cute together 🥹

username3 when is it my time 😔

username4 does oscar fall asleep anywhere at any given time he can? 💀

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ trust me, his snoozing used to be worse before f1. → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no need to expose me like that 😐 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ oh ljubavi, you’ve been exposed for a while…

username5 i’m still new to the drivers and their gf’s… how did these two meet??? I never knew oscar had a gf.

→ username6 basically, oscar and y/n met when he was in school in england while she was on a trip in england with her friends as a graduation celebration! y/n’s friends decided to go watch a F3 race but she got lost in the paddock when trying to find the bathroom and met oscar trying to help her but then they both got lost because it was his first time there too😭

y/n_l/n81 posted a story 12 minutes ago!

oscarpiastri replied to your story!

oscarpiastri luckily? what does that mean

y/n_l/n81 :))

oscarpiastri oh no.

y/n_l/n81 oh yes.

oscarpiastri ✔︎

oscarpiastri it’s been fun in belgium but time for some rest and relaxation 👍 (karlo joins the journey as well)

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

3.654 comments

landonorris ✔︎ oscar blink twice if you need help

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ i’ve BEEN blinking. → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ don’t listen to him lando! he’s cranky without his nap → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no i’m not → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ sure…

username7 the y/n crumbbbsss 🤌 🤌 🤌

pierregasly ✔︎ what is with girls and packing so much 😅

fransiscac.gomes ✔︎ to have outfits for every occasion obviously 🙄 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ men just don’t get it → oscarpiastri ✔︎ ??? → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ don’t question me oscar. you know i know how long you've been wearing the same shorts for.

danielricciardo ✔︎ bare shoulder??? naughty boy oscar

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ please don’t say that ever again. → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ can a girl not sleep in a top for once?? 😞😞 → username8 LMAO

username9 KARLO MAKES A COMEBACK!!

*liked by y/n_l/n81!*

→ username10 who is karlo?? → username11 karlo is the stuffed koala y/n has! oscar got it for her on their first date when y/n came to Australia! and since she brought him to every race she went to. → username12 stop it that is so cute. 😭

username13 where you travelling to??

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ you’ll see 🤫 → username12 based on her insta story, she unintentionally spoiled where they were going 😭 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ SHHHHH

y/n_l/n81 posted a story 5 minutes ago!

landonorris replied to your story!

landonorris anytime 🙃 landonorris but for the love of god stop being so lovey dovey it makes me wanna puke

y/n_l/n81 you’re just jealous because you’re single

y/n_l/n81 jealous jealous boy

landonorris oh please i’m not single

y/n_l/n81 🤨🤨 really?

landonorris ofc i have amelia obvi 🙄 🙄

y/n_l/n81 …sure!

oscarpiastri ✔︎

oscarpiastri on the move. cya belgium 👋 ��️

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

2,547 comments

username14 anyone know where they are going???

→ mclaren ✔︎ getting us a WDC 🏆 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ not on my watch → mclaren ✔︎ :(

username15 wearing sweatpants is so real

username16 airplanes are so uncomfy for what

username17 based on y/n stories and her being yugo-balkan… i think we know where they are going.

markwebber ✔︎ stay safe kids 😊

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ will do 🫡 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ yes “dad” 🙃 → username18 *daddy → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ 🤨 📸

y/n_l/n81 posted a story 2 hours ago!

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎

📍 Slovenia

y/n_l/n81 sunny slovenia 🇸🇮 ☀️

tagged ; oscarpiastri

2,547 comments

fransiscac.gomes ✔︎ you have to send cafè recs 🫣

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ ofccc anything for my gf 🫶 → pierregasly ✔︎ excuse me? → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ you’re excused.

username19 HELLO THE FOUNTAIN PHOTO???

→ username20 literally sobbing → username21 why can’t this be me. → username22 going to sleep in the middle of the highway! → username23 throwing myself off the san francisco bridge! → landonorris ✔︎ @ ameliadimz could be us fr??? → ameliadimz ✔︎ whatever you say pooks 😍😍

username24 where is the location? it’s so pretty!

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ ljubljana! it’s such a beautiful city 🫶

username25 the scenery is actually stunning.

oscarpiastri ✔︎

📍 Croatia

oscarpiastri captivating croatia 🇭🇷 🫧

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

2,896 comments

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ who is that pretty lady?? 🥴

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ my gf, you might know her 😉 → landonorris ✔︎ awwwhhh 😊 (puking rn) → username26 HELP LANDO → username27 this man isn’t real 😭😭 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ i think you mean CHILD

username28 the water is actually not real cause it’s so pretty what

username29 okay oscar we see you with the shirtless pic

→ username30 HE’S TURNING INTO GEORGE 😭 → username31 STOP IT RN.

username32 little oscar is growing up 😢

georgerussell63 ✔︎ there can only be one good at shirtless photos.

→ username33 HELLO??

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ @ oscarpiastri thoughts on fritule?

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ delicious. tell baba to make more when we come over next time → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ 🥹🥹

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎

📍 Serbia

y/n_l/n81 stunning serbia 🇷🇸 ✨

tagged ; oscarpiastri

3,924 comments

username34 these couple photos are so 🫠 🫠

→ landonorris ✔︎ annoying? → charles_leclerc ✔︎ cheesy? → danielricciardo ✔︎ disgustingly cute? → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ i’m → oscarpiastri ✔︎ 🫤

username35 HELLO THE CHURCH PHOTO??

→ username36 it’s literally so stunning → username37 the architecture??? the art??? out of this world. → username38 orthodox churches >>>> → username39 churches with good designs in general >>>

username40 y/n and oscar came back to insta, served cunt, then left.

→ username41 i aspire to be them.

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ @ oscarpiastri thoughts on ćevapi?

→ oscarpiastri 10/10 would eat again. but please don’t shove them down my throat this time 🫤 → danielricciardo kinky 😏

oscarpiastri ✔︎

📍 Bosnia and Herzegovina

oscarpiastri beautiful bosnia and hearty herzegovina 🇧🇦 🌿 (in the region of @ lailahsanovic *not denmark this time)

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

5.231 comments

lailahsanovic ✔︎ my sunning girl ❤️

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ mwah mwah → oscarpiastri ✔︎ thirsting over my gf in my own comments? → lailahsanovic ✔︎ get used to it 😊

username42 anyone noticed that y/n and oscar have matching captions for the countries they’ve been to??

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ finally! someone caught on 🥹

landonorris ✔︎ idk about you oscar but i feel like pushin y/n off the bridge

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ HELLO??? → oscarpiastri ✔︎ idk how to feel about you plotting to kill my gf 😬 → y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ you’re supposed to make sure i stay safe??? → landonorris ✔︎ trying to finish off where oscar pistorius left off 🤷‍♂️

username43 bro the greenery with the bridge??

username44 anyone know what bridge they are at?

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ it’s the Stari Most/Mostar bridge!

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ this ice cream remains superior 🥴🥴

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎

📍 Montenegro

y/n_l/n81 marvelous montenegro 🇲🇪 ⛰️

tagged ; oscarpiastri

3,129 comments

username45 HELP THE OSCAR PHOTO

username46 never beating the polite cat allegations

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ @ oscarpiastri my handsome boy ❤️ all the mountains in the country but your still my best view :)

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ love you ❤️ → username47 you don’t see it but there are tears streaming down my face rn. → username48 WHY CAN’T I FIND LOVE LIKE THIS → username49 oscar is def giggling and kicking his feet rn → oscarpiastri ✔︎ i love my gf but i’m not sure if it’s that much 😅

username50 the mountains, the water, the oscar pic, y/n crumbs, everything is so 🤌🤌

oscarpiastri ✔︎

📍 North Macedonia

oscarpiastri miraculous macedonia 🇲🇰 ⛪️

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

2,769 comments

username51 THE Y/N PHOTO???

→ username52 OCAR ATE WITH THAT PHOT OF HER

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ best bf of the year award for this photo 🤭🤭

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ only for you 🙃

alexandrasaintmleux i can never get tired of these posts 😊

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ definitely getting ideas for vacation

→ kellypiquet ✔︎ 🫣 🫣

username53 i never know that macedonia had large bodies of water??

→ y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ it’s the Ohrid lake! → username54 it doesn’t even look like a lake 😭 i thought it was the ocean

oscarpiastri and y/n_l/n81 ✔︎

oscarpiastri ✔︎ this has by far been the best exploration of countries i’ve been in. Taking a DNA to find out that I had the same ethnicity as my girlfriend is something I’ll be grateful for. I want to thank Y/N for taking (forcing) me to do this trip and take a dive on a side of a culture i never thought I’d get to know. From learning how to kolo (very badly 😅), to making palačinka, and eating some of the best sweets ever. So thank you, ljubavi moja ❤️

tagged ; y/n_l/n81

2,769 comments

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ OSCCARRRR 🥹🥹 MWAH MWAH MWAH

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ MOJA LJUBAVI

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ ZLATO

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ DRAGI

y/n_l/n81 ✔︎ i’m so happy you loved it ❤️

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ i will always enjoy anything you do

username55 the y/n spam 😭😭

username56 balkans do it better 🤷

Translations ;

moja australijanac ; my australian

moja ljubavi ; my love

zlato ; gold

dragi ; darling

672 notes · View notes

readsaboutreid · 23 days

Text

Periods Suck

this is inspired by lenaleechi on instagram's comic about hating periods as well as the gif above because it gives me mad baby fever so i guess this is season 4 softdom!spencer x gn!afab!bau!reader plus a blink and you'll miss it buffy the vampire slayer reference

content warning: breeding kink and period sex [i'm too stoned to think of any others but if you think of them please add them (kindly) in the replies and i'll add them in later :)]

this is smut, minors dni pls and thank you

"...fuck this, fuck everything and everyone, I am done, I quit," I ramble as I open the door to my apartment and kick off my dress shoes that were painfully squeezing my toes, just adding to my frustration. This case had been particularly mild compared to others but I couldn't help but be in a mood due to the littlest things done by the (admittedly innocent) local police officers. I was so relieved to finally go home and get to sleep in my own bed and curl up with a heating pad and my boyfriend with a Doctor Who marathon.

"Deep breaths, (y/n)," I hear from behind me in a soft, soothing tone as gentle hands come down to rub my shoulders from behind. I know he’s well aware what’s causing me to be in such a shitty mood. His pattern recognition skills are off the chart and while he never outright said anything to me about it he'd always be prepared with hot water bottles and chocolate when this time of the month rolled around. I turn around and bury my face into his chest with a sigh.

"I hate periods, Spencer. They suck," I whine with a sigh, my voice muffled by the knit fabric of his cardigan.

"I know, love," he sighs above me, resting his cheek on my forehead and wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry there's not more I could do to help."

"You're helping already," I sigh again, but this time out of contentment as we sway side to side in the entry way. "I wish there was a way I could just, like, stop having them," I mutter, my face returning to the soft fibers that I had come to find so comforting over the years.

Spencer's voice is muffled against my hair as he mutters, "That may be something I can assist you with." I don't even need to see his face to imagine the grin spread across it. Lately, he had been subtly expressing his desire for children, but after JJ gave birth to Henry, his hints have become more pressing. And technically, it was all because of me.

The night was a blur of celebration and drinks, as Emily and Garcia joined me in raising our glasses to toast the occasion. But as we were caught up in the joy of the moment, I couldn't help but let slip that after seeing the pure happiness on Spencer's face at the sight of his godchild a spark ignited within me, igniting a fierce case of baby fever that threatened to consume me entirely. Garcia, the horrible traitor that she is, had messaged a video of my confession to Spencer before I had even finished talking and before I knew it, my phone was buzzing with pictures from Spencer himself - tiny onesies and miniature sneakers - accompanied by words like, ‘just imagine a little genius of our own running around our home in this.’

Without changing his stance, he starts off on one of his typical Spencer Reid rants. "Did you know that scientific research has indicated that orgasms can alleviate menstrual cramps? It's due to the release of endorphins and muscular contractions which help relax the uterine lining," he explains with a slight hint of arousal in his tone, "not only does it address your discomfort, but it also takes care of your other request at the same time."

"We could start trying now, if you want," he suggests with a playful tone, though the subtle hint of desire in his voice sends a jolt of anticipation down my spine and settles between my thighs, igniting a fervent ache. Oh. Oh.

I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, and I am met with intense desire radiating from his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and he licks his lips before gently tracing a finger along my cheek and following up with a soft, "what do you think?"

I interrupt him by pulling his face towards mine, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Suddenly, I'm pushed against the wall with the command to "jump," and my legs automatically wrap around Spencer as he lifts me up by my ass. Our lips met in a hungry yet tender kiss.

Our breaths come in ragged gasps as he pulls away to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. I eagerly nod, my heart racing and anticipation building. Our lips collide once more, the heat between us intensifying as we lose ourselves in each other's embrace. The world fades into the background as our bodies meld together, consumed by desire. He sets me down and guides me to our bedroom by the hand, giggling slightly with excitement. I know he wants kids and we have discussed having them together in the future but the giddiness of the grown ass man in front of me ends up drawing a giggle from my own throat as well.

As we enter the bedroom, he stoops down to give me a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. He grabs an old black towel I use for dyeing my hair and returns, laying it down on the bed and patting it lightly. He sends me sweet smile full of adoration as he whispers, "after you, my love."

I stumble towards the light switch and turn it off before making my way over to the bed. I take off my top and lay down, the darkness giving me a sense of privacy. Suddenly, I hear a soft sound from Spencer as he walks away. The lights flick back on, and he quickly closes the distance between us with just two steps. Before I can even cover myself up in the glare of the harsh light, he's already crawling on top of me.

"You're so gorgeous," he beams at me again before leaning in to kiss me gently, lowering his hips to rest between my legs as they wrap back around his hips instinctively as he begin peppering kisses all over my face and drawing endless laughs from my mouth, "I'm," kiss, "so," kiss, "lucky," kiss, "to," kiss, "have," kiss, "you."

He moves back, his lips leaving a trail of fire as they kiss and caress my skin. My jaw trembles under the soft brush of his lips, before he slowly trails kisses down to my throat. I can't help but let out a moan as his lips touch the sensitive skin there. His body presses against mine, the unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against my hypersensitive center. Every move, every touch, sends electric shivers through my body, igniting a primal desire within me.

My body aches with desire as I struggle to catch my breath. "Please remove your clothing now," I manage to say between deep, passionate kisses. Spencer eagerly strips down and helps me out of my own clothes before settling back between my legs. His arousal presses against the wetness between my thighs, adding to the intense heat building inside me.

"I've been craving this all week, sweetness," he mutters against my neck as he sucks feverishly at the skin, leaving love bites in his wake. "Craving you and your beautiful body." I have no idea how he managed to get me from wildly upset to wildly horny in such a short time, but instead of questioning it, I just let out a moan as I grind my hips against him, begging for his cock to enter me. He continues to tease me by rubbing the tip against my wet slit.

“P-please, Spence,” I whimper, unable to form a coherent sentence through the haze of lust I had become quickly lost within.

Spencer's eyes flicker with desire as he holds himself over me, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of my head. "Say it again," he growls, rubbing his erection against my aching center.

"P-please," I beg, my voice shaking with need.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

"As you wish," he murmurs before slowly sliding inside me. I gasp at the intense pleasure that washes over me, causing my body to arch off the bed and my nails to dig into his back. He begins to move in slow, deep thrusts, filling me completely and igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume every inch of my being.

As our bodies meld together in a blazing inferno, time itself seems to cease to exist. Every touch of Spencer's fingers sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through me, while each caress of his lips against mine ignites a fire within. Our movements are fluid and perfect, each one bringing us closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. I am consumed by an overwhelming sensation, my senses heightened to their limits as our passion reaches an almost unbearable intensity. It feels as though this moment could stretch on for eternity, and I never want it to end. In this single moment, there is nothing else but the all-consuming desire between us, and I give myself completely to it.

My heart pounds against my ribs as Spencer's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes filled with the same ferocity and desire that burns within me. He gives me a wicked grin, and I can feel my resolve crumble as the insatiable hunger consumes me. "You want to have my baby?" he gasps, and all I can respond with is a loud, whorish moan, entirely unable to form any words as his hips start to move ever so slightly faster.

He surges forward, his body fusing with mine in a wild, primal dance. Our movements become more frenzied, our bodies slamming together with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. My breath comes in short gasps as Spencer's relentless thrusts coax an orgasm out of me. My muscles tense, my hips bucking against him, seeking the sweet release from the intense pleasure building up inside of me.

Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word sends me higher and higher, my body arching and bucking beneath him in a frenzy of ecstasy.

Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine as he continues to drive into me, his gaze burning with an intensity that matches the fire inside us both. His hands grip my hips tightly, never losing rhythm as he thrusts into me and coaxes that sweet release from me. My body trembles and shakes with each surge, and I can feel the orgasm building, growing stronger and more intense with each passing second.

A low, guttural moan escapes from Spencer's lips as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster. I can feel him growing more desperate, and I know that he's close to his own release.

The pleasurable ache between my legs intensifies, and I know that I'm about to reach that peak. I let out a helpless whimper as the pleasure was threatening to overtake me, and I feel as though I'm being pulled into a vortex of ecstasy. Time seems to stand still, and I'm lost in the moment, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

The bed creaks and groans with our passionate lovemaking, the sound echoing in my ears as I reach for the pinnacle of pleasure. Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine, and I see the same intensity in them that I feel in my own being. We're one, united in our desire for each other, and nothing else matters in this world.

His thrusts become harder and faster, the tip of his erection brushing against the most sensitive part of me with every stroke. The pleasure is overwhelming, and I can feel the orgasm building within me, growing stronger with each passing second. I cling to Spencer, my nails digging into his back as I beg him to take me over the edge.

“Gonna fill you up,(Y/N),” Spencer moans, “everyone will know who you belong to once you’re — oh fuck — carrying my fucking baby inside you.” His words send me falling over the edge and I can feel myself slipping away, my mind consumed by the intense pleasure reaching it's peak as my hips buck wildly.

Time seems to stand still as we reach the pinnacle of pleasure together. Our bodies move in perfect sync, every thrust, every caress, every whispered word fueling the fire that burns within us. The pleasure is all-consuming, coursing through my veins and reaching every cell in my body. I let out a series of orgasmic moans bordering on screams and Spencer smiles down at me wickedly, his eyes never leaving mine as his thrusts become harder and more disjointed as his own orgasm looms on the horizon. His moans grow louder and louder as the feeling of slight overstimulation makes me clench even tighter around his throbbing cock as he reaches his breaking point.

"Please, Spencer," I whisper, "make me yours, sir. P-please, please put a baby in me!"

Finally, with one last deep thrust, Spencer moans loudly and shudders above me, his body rigid as he loses himself in the pleasure of a release he had been building up to for what felt like an eternity. As Spencer's body shudders above mine, I can feel the warmth of his release filling me up, an earth-shattering feeling that takes my breath away. We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined together, basking in the afterglow of our passion. Finally, with a contented sigh, Spencer pulls out of me and collapses onto the bed beside me.

I snap back to reality, my mind reeling from the intensity of our lovemaking. I can feel the stickiness between my legs, a reminder of the incredible moment we just shared. The room is still, the only sounds being our heavy breathing and the rhythmic beating of our hearts. I reach over to grab the bedside table, searching for a tissue to clean myself up.

"Spencer?" I say softly, my voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he replies, still out of breath.

I flash him a saucy grin, "I think we'll have to make sure we keep trying this before my next period so I won't have to suffer through another one, for a while." I joked, while playfully poking his chest.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, "I think that's a great idea, my love." I couldn't help but giggle at his response, feeling a burst of warmth spread through my body.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

573 notes · View notes

zahri-melitor · 3 months

Text

In terms of trying to transplant how Dick’s generation grew up to independent adult heroes onto Tim’s generation, one of the significant issues is that the two groups have very different backstories.

The Fab Five and their generation were largely cared for children with present guardians during their teen years. Their ‘growing up’ rebellion moments were about wanting to establish their own identities separate to their parent/guardian. Then once NTT occurred and new young adult characters were added to it, you had a bunch who were escaping overbearing guardians with expectations the young adult didn’t want to fulfil, and leaving trauma behind.

The Core Four and other 90s heroes, in contrast, were mostly latchkey kids. They had loving but absent parents and parental figures. They were largely expected to grow up and show they were independent in their early teens. The arcs of their stories were not about growing up and finding themselves and ‘be your own person’, but about learning to trust others and interdependency and working together.

Like the shape of a Fab Five story is ‘in my preteens or earlier a Disaster Happened and I was taken in by a hero who cared for me and taught me the business as their sidekick. Then around 18-20 I moved out to live in a sharehouse with my friends as I wanted to find who I was outside of the shadow of being a sidekick’.

While…Tim’s generation largely aren’t sidekicks in the same sense. The shape of THEIR stories are of ‘teenager with largely absent adults is expected to grow up and show emotional maturity too early’. It’s actually notable that Tim, Kon and Bart all have long term story arcs that involve gaining a stable household right near the end.

Kon’s entire solo is the story of how he is neglected and exploited by every adult around him. He doesn’t have parents. He’s Peter Pan, the little boy who cannot grow up, who lives without parental expectation. He’s a celebrity kid exploited by Rex Leech and by CADMUS, who’s expected by those around him to act in an adult manner and held to that standard while simultaneously specifically being underage and not having the right to make his own decisions. His final arc in Superboy is about being so abandoned he doesn’t even have CADMUS to depend on anymore so he has to find an apartment and a job (the building superintendent) and is expected to act and function like an adult in that position. Superboy #59 (FIFTY NINE) is when Kon finally gets his own name. Superboy #100 is ABOUT Kon moving in with Jonathan and Martha Kent and finally having a stable home environment where he can be a child. Heck Kon’s already had a story where he’s ‘married’ and responsible for a kid. He’s had solo space adventures.

Bart’s solo is about Bart and Max learning to be a family together, but also: Bart’s childhood didn’t contain parents. Meloni turns up occasionally through his solo and loves him but also has to disappear away back to the 30th century at the end of each appearance. The final arc of Bart’s solo is about him moving in with Jay and Joan Garrick for more stability, because Max has disappeared (and stays disappeared). And then, post his solo, Bart even already has HAD an arc where he had to grow up and assume the Flash mantle (which went horribly wrong and led to his death).

Tim? Tim’s entire solo is about upheaval and change. The first time he’s expected to behave as an independent hero, not a sidekick, is literally Robin #1 when Azbats kicks him out of the Cave. Jack threatens to send him away to boarding school on multiple occasions and DOES for the Brentwood arc. He loses Jack, he loses Dana, he moves out to be a hero caring for his own city at 16, in Bludhaven post War Games. Bruce’s adoption of Tim was all about giving him back that sense of stability and support so that Tim had people backing him up again in his personal life and not only as a hero. And then he does the ‘leave and get a new identity’ thing during Red Robin.

And Cassie? Cassie starts with a loving mother and her story arc over becoming a hero is about periods of operating on her own. She moves away from her mum to go to Elias School. Due to operating as a hero under her own name she eventually has to come up with the alias of Drusilla Priam to give herself a non-public identity to retreat to (and isn’t living with Helena Sandsmark but renting on her own during this period to protect Helena).

This is a set of characters for whom it makes no narrative sense to tell a story of them growing up by ‘moving out and finding their own identity as separate heroes’ because their entire PAST is about being alone and looking for connections and people to rely upon. They haven’t been looking for their mentors to accept them as independent adults, they’ve been looking to their mentors to be present and work with them.

They have already all BEEN through the steps of moving out (while underage) and learning to look after themselves as nobody else was there to support them. Growing up for them is about learning to trust and be respected for the skills they already have and trusted to know what they’re doing, rather than leaving to show they can operate independently.

And that’s a harder narrative to show, because it’s a less common growth story in our culture. But in the Core Four’s case, I’d argue a lot of the traditional signifiers of adulthood (moving out; moving away for education; taking responsibility for a city on their own; travelling for quests) are things they were already expected to do while still significantly underage, and so sending them through that plot again isn’t showing anything new to allow them growth. What they need is the adults around them to treat them as adults for the things they already can and do do.

#dc meta #core four v fab five

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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months

Text

PERFECT STRANGERS

Pairing: no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day at a restaurant with your boyfriend and have eyes only for one man. The other man.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, semi-public, f!oral, implied age gap, unprotected piv (wrap it up), double infidelity, pet names ‘little girl’, ‘baby’, a bit of degradation, smoking, alcohol consumption, swearing

Word count: 2,8k

A/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovely people! here’s some filth for you💖 hope you’ll enjoy!

Huge thank you to @milla-frenchy for the title 😘

MASTERLIST || PART 2

You noticed him as soon as he entered the restaurant. He was not alone. No one usually goes alone to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. A waiter led him and a woman he accompanied to their table, and they joined the other couples celebrating their eternal love.

You were not alone, either. Your boyfriend of one year was sitting in front of you. He was complaining about his work like he often did, and being a supportive girlfriend, you offered him a listening ear and all the comforting words. While talking to him, you noticed that if you shifted your gaze a little to the left, you could see the man facing you at his table.

He was handsome, and at first your eyes found him again and again out of simple curiosity and because of your love for looking at beautiful things and people.

You were subtle, stealing glances at the stranger on a rare occasion. Your eyes would take in his hands, lips, and curly locks. You noticed a gold band on his finger, the fullness of his lips, the way he shifted his jaw from time to time while listening to the woman. You were pretty sure it was his wife.

The moment that made it more complicated, and impactful was when your eyes locked. The room wasn’t that big, your tables weren’t that far away, and you two were facing each other, so it was absolutely normal for your gazes to meet at some point. So they met once. Then again. And again. And a few more times. Many more times.

Talking and eating, you sometimes felt his eyes on you, intent yet warm. His gaze would slide over the woman and land on your face, your chest, your partner.

When your eyes locked, your breath would hitch, and you would look at each other for too long. At one point, you got lost in his eyes, drawn to him by a magnetic pull, and when you dropped your head and looked at the pasta on your plate, you felt like something had been said between you two. A greeting. A secret. A wish.

At one point in the evening, the woman left him for the bathroom, and your stomach churned with excitement as you anticipated seeing more of him. You could finally get a full image of his torso, so you were shamelessly ogling his broad chest and

strong shoulders under the confines of his shirt. Then you looked up at his face and saw his gaze on you. He gave you a lopsided smile and took a sip of his wine without breaking eye contact.

“Are you ok?” Your boyfriend asked, having noticed your changed expression—lips parted, eyes blown and widened.

“Ah...yeah,” you replied, quickly averting your eyes from the stranger.

But you weren’t ok. You were tingling, and your stomach was burning with something bright and overwhelming. Something you’d never felt with the man sitting at your table.

You took a deep breath, and the night went on. Stolen glances were still exchanged between the handsome stranger and you, but you tried to stop yourself from looking at him.

It got too much for you when the woman laughed loudly at something the man said, and his devastatingly beautiful smile made your heart beat faster. A surge of jealousy burned your insides, so you cursed under your breath and took your purse, looking for a pack of cigarettes. You had quit a long time ago, but when you felt overwhelmed or anxious, it was a great way to flee from a place, a conversation, or a person. Which you wanted to do at that moment. So you got up and walked to the entrance, trying not to look at him. You failed miserably, as your eyes immediately darted to his face, and you saw him watching you. He ran his hand through his hair, and his expression was pensive and serious.

***

You stepped outside and took a deep breath of night air. You felt your nerves calm down and walked to the corner of the restaurant. It was quiet, as the street was almost deserted that late at night. It was windy, and the skin on your naked legs erupted in goosebumps, so you walked behind the corner of the building and into the alley next to it to hide from the chilling blows.

You cursed when you realised you forgot your lighter in the purse and were contemplating going back, but decided to spend a few minutes there before returning.

You leaned against the wall while the image of the stranger still occupied your mind.

You were standing with an unlit cigarette between your fingers when you heard a voice.

“Hey.”

You snapped your head in that direction and saw him standing at the corner, smoking. The stranger didn’t walk into the alley, didn’t walk closer, apparently not to scare you in that dark, empty street. A myriad of emotions began swarming in your stomach, but fear was not one of them.

“Need a lighter?” He asked, glancing your way from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, thank you,” you replied, clearing your throat. His voice was deep and gruff and so hot that your heart fluttered, and you felt tingling between your legs again.

He slowly walked to you and stopped at arm’s length, not barging into your personal space. When he took a lighter out of the pocket of his blazer, you stepped up to him, raising your cigarette and placing the tip between your lips. You could have lit it yourself, but you wanted him to get closer. He leaned towards you and covered the flame from the wind with his big hand. Your eyes locked again, like many times before that night, but in that moment, it hit you like a freight train. His beautiful, dark eyes with little reflections of the flame pierced your soul and made you stop breathing for a moment. Your gaze lowered to his plush lips, which were slightly pouted, and when you looked up again, you saw him looking at your lips circled around the cigarette.

You took a first drag and stepped back just a little, wanting to stay close to him. He didn’t step away, and you two smoked together in silence until he talked,

“Is it your husband there?”

“No, boyfriend. And you're with your wife.” It wasn’t a question, you were sure of your words by then.

He hummed with a little nod and added with a glint in his eye,

“Does your boyfriend know you love staring at other men?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly collected yourself.

“Does your wife know you hang out with other women in dark alleys?” You quipped, looking up at him with defiance.

He laughed and gave you his gorgeous smile.

“Not any women. Only with the most beautiful one.” Your stomach made a flip when those words left his lips. The way he looked at you was different now. There was dominance, a desire, a need.

“You can’t just keep looking at me that way, little girl,”

He said, throwing away the bud and taking a step towards you. Your cigarette fell out of your hand as you stepped back, feeling the rush of a prey cornered after a chase. But there had been no chase. You were not a prey.

So you stood your ground, and he stepped up to you, so broad and strong, and you bit your lip, feeling the heat of his body warming you up.

“You were staring at me all night as well,” you asserted, looking up at him with your eyebrows raised.

Your heart was booming in your ears. The man smiled, before his hand grasped your hip, and he gently pushed you back.

He wasn't rough, you felt a slight pressure on your side, nudging you towards the wall behind. You complied breathing fast and not breaking eye contact.

In a moment, you felt a cold brick wall against your back, and the man stopped inches from you. The electricity between you two was almost tangible, and the darkness of the night was hiding you from the eye of a rare passerby. Only one streetlight at the corner of the restaurant let you see his handsome features.

“You’re right. I was watching you,” he murmured, bracing his hand on the wall next to your head as his other hand found your waist. “Couldn’t stop staring… pretty little thing.”

It seemed that you forgot how to breathe. Time stopped, and your mind was empty. The only thing that remained in the world was him, the man caging you against the wall in that dark alley.

He was looking down at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and back up. He was waiting for you to take a leap.

And you took it easily.

You stepped up to him, your bodies flush against each other, and pressed your lips to his.

It seemed like that was all he’d been waiting for. His arms enveloped your torso before he pinned you to the wall.

The kiss was overwhelming and hot. There was nothing sweet about it. He growled into your mouth while his hands began roaming your body. It was like he knew how little time you two had and wanted to touch you everywhere, feel you everywhere.

“Please,” you mewled into his mouth, and he parted from you.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you need..”

“I want you.”

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl,” he said with a shaky voice, feverishly unbuckling his belt. “Gonna let some stranger fuck you in an alley?”

“Yes,” you moaned, pulling your skirt up with shaky hands.

“Little slut. Let me see you,” he mumbled crouching in front of you and helping you pull your skirt up to your waist. He quickly tugged down your lacy panties, took them off, and looked at your pussy.

He cursed under his breath and opened your folds with his thumbs.

“Did watching me all night make you so wet, naughty girl?”

He wasn’t wrong. Cold air hit your soaked pussy and you shivered. Your clit was pulsating and when he put his mouth on it and began licking and sucking you felt like you were about to come.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mumbled against your flesh as you placed your feet apart so his tongue had better access. You were clutching his curls while his fingers were digging into your hips and kneading your ass cheeks. He seemed insatiable, making the flat of his tongue rub your clit, then caressing it with his soft lips.

“I’m…gonna come,” you moaned as he was sucking on your sensitive bud filling the alley with the lewdest slurping noises.

After a few moments, you came, shaking against the wall, your hand gripping his shoulder. He was lapping at your juices until you felt overstimulated, and slightly pushed him away.

He stood up, his scruff glistening with your slick.

“Come here, baby,” he growled, unzipping his jeans. He pulled out his cock, which was hard and throbbing. His warm hands grabbed your thighs, and he lifted you up.

You gasped, wrapped your legs around his waist, and put your arms around his neck. You felt his cock nudge your hole, and he started sinking his tip into you. His member was big, but your pussy was ready to take him after your orgasm so he bottomed out easily and started bouncing you on his cock.

The head was hitting your cervix rhythmically, and you wanted to scream, but the need to be quiet allowed only soft whimpers to leave your lips.

Suddenly, you heard buzzing.

His phone.

To your astonishment, he took it out of his pocket, holding you up with one arm, and, after a deep breath, answered the call.

“Honey, I’m helping this guy out. His car broke down,” he said while his cock was buried deep in your pussy, “No, don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While he was talking to his wife, you slid down the wall a bit, and he pushed you up, making his tip hit your cervix hard. You put your palm over your mouth just before a cry escaped your lips. He winked at you with gratitude and added, “Enjoy your dessert, honey.”

He hung up and mumbled, “I’m definitely enjoying mine.”

His lips immediately crushed into yours, and his hands grasped your ass cheeks as he continued to lift you up and down, using you like a fuck doll.

After a particularly hard thrust, you couldn’t help but moan loudly, and he placed his warm hand over your mouth and continued fucking up into your dripping hole.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he whispered into your ear between panting, “so wet and warm, fuck.. “ His scruffy beard was chafing your cheek, but you didn’t care. You were enjoying yourself too much, being fucked by a complete stranger while your boyfriend was waiting for you. On fucking Valentine’s Day. Despite or because of it, your second climax was building fast in your core.

“Can you come on my cock, little girl?” as if reading your thoughts, he asked you.

“Yeah..,” you murmured, “make me come, please."

“Fuck, I like you, so polite.” His hand left your ass and slithered between your bodies. His thumb quickly found your throbbing clit and he started rubbing it. His cock massaging your soft spot, his expert finger stimulating your clit quickly pushed you over the precipice.

You cried out, and he hastily placed his palm over your mouth, quieting you.

“Shhh, baby, you don’t wanna get caught full of stranger’s cock, do ya?” he chuckled, but you heard in his voice that he was close too.

“Fuck, not gonna last with you chokin’ my dick like that.”

The man hastily pulled out and put you down on your feet. He stepped to the side, pointing the tip of his cock at the wall, and started jerking his shaft while his other hand cupped your pussy. He was spreading your slick over your wet folds and watching them glisten.

Soon he moaned and started shooting the spurts of his cum on the wall. With hazy eyes and parted lips, you were taking in the image of him milking his cock.

When the last drop slid down his tip, he took out a handkerchief and wiped it off.

“Hell, baby, you’re something,” he said with a warm smile, panting heavily.

You two started fixing your clothes, glancing at each other from time to time. After you pulled down your skirt, he picked up your panties off the ground.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with an apologetic smile, and you shrugged, stuffing them into your pocket.

“We should go back,” you said with a touch of sadness in your voice. You wished you could spend the rest of the night with him, but reality was not made out of your dreams.

“You go first, and I’ll follow. Don’t want you to have problems with your guy.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet, and added,

“Hope your wife believed the car story.”

He chuckled and came up to you before taking your face in his hands. Your breath hitched again, and you marvelled at his beautiful features for the hundredth time that night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he murmured, and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

It was short and sweet, and when he parted from you, your eyes locked again, and you whispered back,

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

***

The both of you continued the dinner with your partners. He left before you, and on his way out, he turned his head and gave you a playful wink. You smiled into your wine glass as butterflies were swarming in your stomach. Suddenly you thought that you would probably never see him again, and tears welled up in your eyes.

***

In a cab on your way home, you remembered that your panties were still stuffed in your pocket and wanted to push them deeper when you felt something else there. You took it out and saw a card. You grinned widely, biting your lip with excitement.

There was a name on the card - Joel Miller, and a phone number underneath it.

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

Kisses and hugs for your comments and reblogs!😘🫂

PART 2

Tag list: @missannwinchester @morallyinept @bbyanarchist @harriedandharassed @nervousmumbling

If you’d like to join the tag list, let me know!❤️

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #valentine's day #tw infidelity

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niniluvsainz · 30 days

Text

sad beautiful tragic ☽ cs55

(5.1k words)

masterlist |

in which... falling out of love was both relieving and terrifying.

carlos sainz x wife!fem!reader

(PLEASE READ) warnings... pregnancy, falling out of love, angst, pregnancy symptoms, baby delivering, carlos is a dad, reader is a mom, no use of y/n, public marriage proposal, yelling, yelling in front of a child, ferrari, how is it a carlos fic without lando norris being the adoptive son, abortion mention, aggressive carlos, slamming hands on surface, slight unwanted pregnancy, divorce, confusing ending bcs its eleven pm and im sleepy, not proofread.

WHEN YOU AND CARLOS MET, it was unprepared and you were both two naive children. carlos was just jumpstarting his motorsport career, and while he was in england, he met you. it was a small moment, at a nightclub, but the moment he laid eyes on you he knew he had found his person. the spaniard didn't know that night, july ninth, would change his life forever.

you, in your elegant maroon dress, swaying your body to the beats echoing around the small room. he had offered to buy you a drink, and you, already one too many drinks in, could not reject a handsome young man's offer.

you exchanged numbers that same night, and promised to go out one day again. two weeks later, that promise was fulfilled.

"i hope you like sushi," carlos mentioned, opening your side of his car door. you smiled, as you both walked hand-in-hand into the luxurious restaurant.

after hours of getting to know each other over sushi, a few appetizers, and two bottles of wine, you both decided to give the relationship a try. of course, with his career came many different events for carlos to attend around the world, but when he would be back in england, he'd spend all his time with you.

when carlos was called to be promoted into formula one to join the scuderia toro rosso alongside max verstappen, you were the first one he called to deliver the news. the next week, carlos had flown in to england to celebrate with you. you had both celebrated in multiple ways, and in one of those particular occasions, you became pregnant.

the symptoms began lightly, you became dizzy very frequently, and it wasn't until you could not take the sickness anymore that you went for a doctor visit.

when you heard the phrase, congratulations--you are six weeks pregnant, the pit in your stomach enlarged. how would you tell carlos? would he want to be a father? were you ready to be a mother? you didn't know who to tell, you felt alone. your parents were not in the picture, so you were actually and completely alone.

carlos was in italy, preparing for his formula one debut, and he would not be coming to visit you in two weeks. those two weeks were absolute misery, you couldn't pass down food, you'd felt horrible. when carlos arrived in your house, you tried applying makeup to hide the hollowness in your cheeks and how your warm skin tone had faded. however, carlos immediately noticed, including the drastic weight loss on your body.

"amor, what happened?" carlos had concern laced in his tone and features, holding you delicately as he pulled away from the welcome embrace. carlos' eyes scanned over you, as you tried to swallow the breakdown climbing up.

"let's go sit, please." you whispered, motioning to your couch. carlos had a million thoughts run through his head, all leading to different outcomes.

"i'm pregnant; eight weeks." you paused for a few seconds to register carlos' reaction.

being pregnant was not on carlos' mental list.

carlos' body language said it all, according to you. the slight arm hold loosening, his body slightly jerking away, and his eyes--oh, the eyes you grew to love and adore, now you could see the numerous emotions flooding him.

before he could say anything, you spoke first. "listen, i understand if you do not want to keep this baby. but, i made my decision, and i'm keeping it. i'm not going to force you to be in the baby's life, because i understand having a baby right now when the most important part of your career is just about to start--" carlos leaned in and placed his lips on yours. the tears began falling to your cheeks, staining his own.

when he pulled away, he stared deeply into your eyes. "corazon, you just made me become the happiest man alive. i love you." a smile formed on your lips, before you embraced him tightly. you clung to him for dear life, happy and relieved you wouldn't be alone in this after all.

"i can speak with my family, my mother and sisters can help you. but, you would most likely have to move to spain with me." carlos explained, releasing from the hug. "oh," was all you could mutter.

you had never seen past britain, it's always been home to you. but you knew if you wanted help you couldn't do it alone. "wouldn't you think it's kind of weird, that the first time i'm meeting your family it's because i'm pregnant with your child?" you asked, nervousness beginning to bubble in your stomach.

"no," carlos immediately answered. "i was thinking either way of taking you to meet my family during my time here, so they are expecting you, and they're really excited to meet you." carlos reassured. you nodded with a small smile. with one last look, carlos got up and headed to the kitchen.

"what are you going to do?" you asked, facing the direction he walked. carlos began grabbing pans out of your cabinet and multiple ingredients.

"i'm going to make sure my girlfriend and little carlitos are well fed. now, what are you craving?"

when you knew your baby would be on the way, you were actually on a boat with ana and blanca, carlos' sisters. you felt the painful kicks, and immediately told both sisters. the first thing they did was tell the boat to turn back to shore as fast as humanly possible, and then they called carlos, who was with his parents. you don't know how, but you truly believe a higher power was helping you. you blacked out for everything, and it wasn't until you regained consciousness again that you were being given your baby into your arms. carlos was right beside you, staring down at your newborn child. he was crying, just as you were. "it's little carlitos." you whispered, looking up at carlos with a large smile on your face.

carlitos seemed to grow very quickly in your eyes. you were eternally grateful for carlos sr and reyes, for being the most loving grandparents for your baby. they both took you in and treated you just like their own blood, "como una verdadera familia." (like a real family.) ana and blanca became close to you, and were the aunts that would spoil every little dime for carlitos.

carlos, of course, was the best father ever. you will admit, both of you walked into parenthood not knowing almost anything, but with the help of carlos' family, you both learned. you had decided to not yet accompany carlos to his formula one races, as you did not want carlitos out with the media at such a young age. carlos understood your reasoning, but you both were always supporting him by the television screen.

birthday celebrations were surrounded by friends and family, and carlitos was over the moon when he would see all the candy, piñatas, and colorful decor around the backyard of the sainz home.

a few weeks before carlitos turned three, you noticed carlos being very suspicious. you would catch him in his own lies, but decided on not commenting anything. instead, you tried speaking to ana and blanca but they would just divert your concerns to something relating to carlitos, and you would always fall for the trap, because you loved everything about your son.

of course you were not knowing what was about to come when carlos had simply invited you out to dinner. carlitos had stayed with reyes and carlos sr, the couple claiming they were wanting to spend quality time with their grandson.

it was a lovely dinner with carlos, as it had been quite a while since it was you two without carlitos around. your waiter had come to receive the check, but before leaving he informed you two, "there's a live band on the other side of the restaurant if you would like to enjoy some live music." you looked at carlos, a sparkling glint in your eye. carlos chuckled, and he got up from his chair, extending out a hand for you to grab.

you both walked towards the back of the restaurant that would oversee the city of madrid. the band, who was playing soothingly, added to the nice touch where one would stare out to the beautiful city and be able to listen to a calming tune.

“corazón,” carlos said beside you. you turned to look at him, only to see his gorgeous brown eyes staring at you with admiration. you smiled, and carlos cleared his throat before glancing down at the ground. he only looked back up to the band and gave them a slight nod, before getting down on one knee. he reached for his pocket, and you quickly glanced around your surroundings to see clients of the restaurant begin to take notice of what was about to happen in front of them.

the band’s music quieted down; you were sure carlos left them the notice in advance. your lips parted in shock, as you stared down at him. “mi vida, you are the love of my life. you have given me the gift of becoming a father to our son. i love you more than words and actions can describe,” carlos paused for a moment, as he saw you beginning to release tears from the corner of your eyes. he knew you hated ruining your makeup because of crying.

when carlos opened the small box he had put into view a few moments ago and positioned it in front of him to display to you, you felt the entire world stop for this one moment.

carlos said your full name, it sounded quite unnatural since he's only ever called you loving nicknames. "i'm already the happiest man right now, but will you add to that happiness and marry me?"

you nodded your head yes immediately and grabbed both his hands, helping him stand up and leaning in to meet your lips with his. the clapping sound surrounded you both as well as cheering sounds, but you paid no mind as you had everything you've cared for right in front of you.

once separated from the loving kiss, you opened your eyes to see carlos placing the gorgeous engagement ring on your finger, and you looked up as you saw the entire family standing feet away from you two. the tears from your eyes were uncontrollable, your emotions all over the place.

carlitos, only having a few months experienced in walking, wattled over to you and carlos. carlos picked his son up, and you placed a small kiss on carlitos' hand.

the family walked towards your own, congratulating you and carlos. "you knew, didn't you?" you asked blanca and ana. they both giggled, and you shook your head laughing. this is what family was. and you were so unbelievably happy you had won the lottery in that department.

the wedding came months later. it was a beautiful reception. a few of carlos' colleagues in formula one were invited. it was a wedding in december, so you and carlos would have enough time for your honeymoon before he would be back in racing. he was given his biggest opportunity yet in formula one, being promoted to drive in mclaren by the upcoming season.

both you and carlos agreed you wanted to expand your tiny family by adding another member. and by the time carlos had begun his new formula one season, you were already confirmed to be expecting.

being a mother in waiting is not pretty. you had gone through this process once with carlitos, and going through it again one would expect for it to go smoother, but it was just as difficult. this was all motherhood, was your motivation to keep going. for you, your husband, your son and your new baby on the way.

carlitos understood many things, including the fact he was going to become a big brother. when asked if he wanted a brother or a sister, he always answered he wanted "una pequeña hermanita." (a little sister.) you had also encouraged the entire family to speak spanish to carlitos so he would be fluent in both english and spanish.

your second child arrived during a very special event in spain. dia de los muertos (day of the dead.), to be exact. carlos was not with you, as he was halfway across the world in austin, texas.

you were with carlos sr and reyes, and they both took great care of you. ana and blanca took care of carlitos while you were in the hospital. you asked both in-laws to please do not tell carlos, as you thought this could completely flood his mind and he would not do good in the race.

your second child, camilo, was delivered on the second of november. if you were not mistaken, this day was the day of qualifying for carlos. and no way in hell would you ever call him for him to go ballistic and fuck it all up. and that's how it went. carlos did not hear from any of the family for the entire weekend, and even going into the next race. you did not want to tell him over the phone his newborn son was born. you didn't think he would take it so far, but he did.

after the brazilian grand prix, carlos was going back to spain to you. he would have a week and then he would fly to abu dhabi for the final race of the season. camilo was two and a half weeks already, and looked like the carbon copy of carlos. carlitos had more of your own features, but if someone were to definitely see camilo they would immediately recognize carlos sainz jr as the father.

when carlos arrived, you were putting camilo to sleep. carlitos promised to wait for his papi in the living room of your recently purchased family home. you didn't hear when carlos arrived, so when you heard the door of your shared bedroom open and you heard your husband's voice behind you say your name, you were startled and quickly turned around, not forgetting camilo was still in your arms.

"is camilo asleep?" carlitos asked in a hushed whisper. you turned around and placed your newborn son in his crib, before placing his blankets over him, and turning on the baby monitor.

"yes, he just fell asleep." you responded to your son's question. carlos' eyes were burning your skin, and you couldn't dare to look him in the eye. you even flinched when carlos spoke, but not to you.

"campeón, why don't you go to your room, i need to speak with mamá first. and then you can show me your new balón de fútbol." you pursed your lips before carlitos turned his head to look at you for reassurance, which you gave with a small smile and nod, and seconds later carlitos left to his own room happily skipping down the hall.

once carlos was sure his son was out of hearing distance, his attention was brought back to you. "i find out by my son, as soon as i walk through the door, that you had the baby?" carlos asked cautiously. his tone was neutral, but you felt the argument begin to approach. "you didn't even call to let me know?"

you took a deep breath before answering. "i didn't want you to find out over the phone, and you weren't going to be here because of your races."

carlos let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. "i had the right to know was son was born the minute someone had a hold of a phone at that hospital." his tone was aggressive, but not loud to wake up camilo or let carlitos hear.

"i didn't want you to mess up your races because i was having the baby and you wouldn't be around," you tried explaining. if it wasn't for camilo sleeping, carlos would be yelling right now.

"no, i would be flying back because i would want to see my wife and be there for her and for our new child!" carlos began whisper-yelling as he motioned to the sleeping baby behind you.

"i'm--i'm sorry, carlos. i thought i was doing what was best for you--" you were cut off by carlos' following words. "how do you know what's best for me? what's best was, knowing i had a son the second he arrived. i would have come back, and taken care of you and our sons. where the hell did you leave carlitos in all of this?" he asked, his face turning red from the anger he was projecting.

"he stayed with your sisters." you whispered, looking down. carlos nodded his head slowly before scoffing again. "when i could've been there!" he countered. you looked up to meet his gaze. "okay, but it happened! it's over, we can't erase time."

carlos stayed quite for a few moments, as if thinking his thoughts through. the argument was immature; of course on some parts you were wrong by not letting carlos know immediately, but carlos immediately went to argue instead of seeing his newborn baby for the first time.

carlos walked over to you and looked down at the sleeping child. you stared at the small interaction between both father and son, as carlos slowly gave camilo his pointer finger, to which the child, even sleeping, gripped the finger.

"he looks just like you," you whispered, staring between your husband and son. the corner of carlos' lips turned upwards, non-verbally agreeing with your statement.

"i'm sorry for the argument," carlos whispered, as he began carefully caressing camilo's head, which surprisingly had already a lot of hair.

"i should be the one apologizing. i wasn't thinking about anyone but myself in the moment." you muttered. camilo's grip on carlos' finger loosened, and he stepped back from the crib to embrace you into his arms. you hugged back tightly, in the end happy your husband was back with you to complete your growing family.

when the worldwide pandemic came about in the beginning of 2020, you were worried for carlos. worried how exposed he was to the sickness. that was until, the formula one season would be postponed until further notice. therefore, carlos went back to spain and although he was still staying in shape and training for when the season would resume, he also took this time to cherish the family bonding with his wife and two sons.

there were small moments, whether it would be playing fútbol with carlitos, both father and son teaching baby camilo how to play, but a baby can only watch. in carlitos' words, "when camilo is older we can team up and score the goals." you would be cooking, feeding your family, having movie nights, or even sometimes when the children would go to sleep early, you and carlos would cook a dinner for the both of you. it was these moments that made you cherish life.

in may, carlos was in talks with a new formula one team seeking him. carlos had accepted the deal, and it was a family celebration when he announced he would be driving for the scarlet red team next season, scuderia ferrari.

however, because of this, another person joined your family. and not in the way you thought. no, carlos' best friend, lando norris. you had not interacted much with the brit, but he seemed like a very funny guy based on interviews and crazy stories your husband would mention.

what lando norris decided, was that he would stay in your house for about a month before he would depart from his 'best mate.' staying as a house guest would later come to mean having another child and baby-ing him. the stay turned to two months, as lando also stayed to celebrate christmas, before he departed to his family for new years. lando meeting carlitos and camilo was wholesome, the brit would teach carlitos about golf, while camilo --who had began walking when he turned a year old-- would waddle the golf balls back to lando and carlitos, as this was his own way of playing with the two.

by the end of lando's stay, he was exclusively "uncle" or "tio lando" to carlitos. and lando spoiled the hell out of carlitos and camilo for christmas.

the 2021 formula one season brought many changes, one including carlos finally convinced you to attend a race. carlitos was not on your side either, as he has wanted to see his papa driving fast cars. it was three against one (as when camilo was also asked if he wanted to attend a race with carros, he would smile and laugh, which father and son took as a yes). you flew to bahrain with carlos and your two sons, and were actually entertained by everything going on in the paddock. carlos' new teammate, charles leclerc, was in awe of your children. carlos never talked about having a wife or even children, so your family entrance definitely turned heads from all around. you spent most of your time with your children, and sometimes accompanied by charles leclerc's girlfriend, charlotte, who also adored your children from the moment she saw them. your little family was cheering on for carlos in red the entire weekend.

however, as the year went by, you felt a shift. of course, family bonding was still there. you tried to hide it, but you felt a change when you were with your husband. sometimes you shrugged off the feeling, not wanting to think too much about it, but you knew. even if it wasn't spoken, your love for carlos had diminished. you almost felt empty inside at times, and maybe you blamed it on how back to back you had children and now that they're growing you just feel the nostalgia. this is what led you to ask your husband in the middle of the night the question.

"do you want to have another baby?"

carlos had turned his head toward you, staring deeply into your eyes. he held the eye contact for a few moments before responding. "i think we are perfectly well with carlitos and camilo, don't you think?"

"but wouldn't you like another one, carlitos keeps asking for a sister," you chuckled. "and our family will be complete."

"our family's already complete," carlos stated in a tone that projected, the conversation's over.

you nodded with a smile that didn't reach your eyes, before kissing his cheek and bidding goodnight. you turned on your side and closed your eyes, not another word spoken for the night. nights where you two would stay up until the next morning, whether it be to feed or change diapers, lay tangled in each other's arms, or just talk nonsense, too delirious to understand what the other would be speaking about. those nights were now a kiss goodnight, or just laying by each other and not speaking a word at all until you two would fall asleep, centimeters separating you both.

attending the grand prix's became a more regular thing, your boys always happy to be following their father, and you always cheering on your husband.

because carlos' good friend, max verstappen, had won his first world championship, he invited you both to celebrate. that night, both you and carlos had too much to drink, and weren't thinking of your decisions.

a month later, you're pregnant again.

carlos said he did not want another child, but what did you want? it was an innocent child's life, one who didn't even have an opportunity to see and experience the world.

you decided on telling carlos over dinner (the good thing is that tradition hasn't ended yet), and you were terrified to see his reaction.

"when did you find out?" carlos asked, taking a sip of his wine. "earlier this morning, i went to the doctor." you answered, trying to rub the sweat off your palms on your pants. "she said i was a month in."

of course, the night of max's celebration. that's the most recent time you have had sex, and before that it had been almost eight.

"i know you said you didn't want another baby, but carlos--" you were cut off by your husband slightly slamming his hands on the table, making you flinch. "you're pregnant, and now we move on with the pregnancy until the baby is born." he got up from the table and grabbed empty plates and silverware before taking them to the washing sink.

"goodnigtht." carlos said before departing to your shared bedroom. you stayed still in your seat, processing what you heard. one thing you were sure of, this baby was not wanted by its father.

the news was later given to your sons that they would become big brothers soon. carlitos jumped up and down in excitement, while camilo, still learning to understand words, only smiled widely.

nine months later, and you had a baby girl. carlos, someway between seven and eight months into the pregnancy, was deciding on girl names. you had chipped in that you wanted a 'c' name, as both your sons had one, so it would be neat if your daughter also had one. after much thought and debating, you both settled for carla. carlos sr and reyes helped calm the debate.

luckily, carlos was home for carla's birth. carlitos and camilo were with their grandparents, but carlitos had insisted he wanted to see his little sister before anyone.

when you and carlos arrived with carla back home, carlitos immediately wanted to hold her, while camilo was staring at her like she was an alien.

over time, carlos and you continued to try to make the family functional. but it started crumbling down, and you knew it was a matter of time.

your daughter was more difficult than how carlitos and camilo had been, so at some instances in the middle of the night carlos would get up from the bed while you were feeding carla and go sleep in the guest bedroom.

you took carla to the paddock earlier in age than you did with your sons. carlos insisted you accompany him, and to bring the entire family. you didn't want to, as carla was still small. but carlos begged and insisted.

the beginning of the 2023 year did not go as you thought it would. you tried hard, you really did, to keep your family in one stand. but carlos wasn't helping.

you tried showing you were a happy family to your children, because you did not want them to go through what you did. which is what made your parents divorce and leave you in the middle of it. you did not want that for your family.

your routine was now: wake up, feed the kids, do chores, feed the kids again, maybe go visit reyes and carlos sr, and if carlos was home take the kids to play, go to sleep. no more traditions, no more nothing.

you weren't happy anymore. you saw carlos wasn't either. it was just routine at this point.

when carlos got the call he was no longer driving at ferrari, he isolated himself. he didn't speak to you, he ignored the children, even his parents. you would be folding laundry and he'd come out of the guest room (which was now declared his) to see if there was food. you would just start cooking after you finished laundry, but he wasn't patient.

"the food isn't ready?!" he would ask agitated. you swallowed hard, not wanting to cry and seem weak. "i'll get started on it in a bit, let me just finish folding these clothes and--"

you would stop speaking because he would grab a jacket and the car keys, and leave without another word. carlitos would be the one to come out of his room, and ask if you were okay.

"yes, i am. dad just went for a pizza." you smiled. carlitos would jump in delight, before running to tell his siblings in the other room. you would grab your phone and order pizza delivery.

2024 was the year you were just exhausted. and the last turning point was after carla's second birthday party. you had both agreed to celebrate her birthday a week before, as carlos would be in baku for a race weekend on her actual day.

the whole day, carlos didn't show up. he didn't show up to his daughter's birthday at all. when you called numerous times, it would send to voicemail. you asked ana and blanca, even his parents, to contact him. it was carlos sr who he answered to. he was training, not even knowing his daughter was waiting for him.

when carlos arrived home well after the party had ended, you didn't direct a word to him.

carlos called out your name. "look, i'm sorry, okay?" you stopped washing the dishes and scoffed looking his way.

"you are apologizing to me? it's your daughter you dissapointed!" you yelled. you knew the children would hear, but that wasn't your current thought process at the moment.

"and i'm just, i'm sick of it all! i'm sick of excuses, i'm sick of you pushing me away, i'm sick of not being good enough for anything anymore!" you aggressively wiped your hands on a towel, before wiping your tear-filled eyes.

"what do you want me to do? be happy when i'm clearly not? fake a happy family when it's far from that?" the last statement was like a puncture to your breaking heart.

all you wanted, was a happy and loving family. you had it for a while, but now that was over. and maybe if you wanted to continue being happy, you had to step away this time.

"i can't be with you anymore." you spit out. carlos widened his eyes, your statement hitting him like a rock. "what?" he managed to blurt out.

"i can't pretend to be a happy family anymore. i won't."

your lawyer grabbed your arm lightly. "hey, are you okay?" he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked and nodded your head.

the judge had decided both you and carlos would share custody of your children. two weeks, they would be with you, the other two carlos would have them. you and carlos would still interact and would need to have 'family bonding' once every month with the children. carla would be the only exception, as until she is five years old she would be able to stay with carlos.

it would be hard learning outside a life you had always known, but you had your children to motivate you. you had supporters, who at the end of the day were your family.

it was a sad, beautiful, tragic love story. one you learned, cried, and were both happy and sad in.

author's note: OH MY GOSH. anyways hope y'all like it mwah. as inspo i was listening to sad beautiful tragic, all too well, tolerate it, and you're not sorry. i definitely prefer smau better than written fics, so expect more of those soonnnn

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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doumadono · 2 months

Text

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

♡ Dabi ♡

Dabi, maintaining his usual nonchalant demeanor, brushes off Valentine's Day as insignificant. "It's just another day," he grumbles when you inquire about plans, his gaze fixed on something distant.

Despite his indifference towards the holidays of any kind, Dabi ensures that you feel loved every day. He might not express it verbally, but through his actions, like a gentle touch or a shared glance, he conveys his affection.

Dabi, surprisingly in touch with emotions, recognizes that you might have different expectations for Valentine's Day. "I get it, you want some romantic crap. Fine," he reluctantly admits, acknowledging the importance it holds for you.

Instead of traditional gifts, Dabi puts thought into finding something unique that resonates with you. It could be a rare book, a piece of artwork, or an item related to your hobbies. "I figured you'd like this better than some cliché crap, doll," he remarks.

During the day, Dabi might express his affection in subtle ways. A brush of his fingers against yours, a lingering glance, a warm hug, a rare smile or a shared cigarette.

Dabi, not one for grand gestures, suggests spending quality time together. "We can do whatever you want."

Dabi prefers low-key activities, so he suggests a casual day out rather than an extravagant date. It could be a stroll through a less crowded part of town or a visit to a place that holds personal significance.

Dabi values private moments over public displays of affection. He might pull you aside for a quiet conversation or a shared moment away from prying eyes, kissing you passionatelly in an alley after picking the order from your favourite restaurant.

In the evening, Dabi might create a quiet, intimate atmosphere. He pulls you close, whispering, "I'm not good with words, but you know what you mean to me, right?" His actions speak louder than any declaration.

The evening is peaceful, just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without the need for excessive words.

♡ Shigaraki ♡

Shigaraki openly expresses his disdain for Valentine's Day, dismissing it as a celebration that glorifies something horrific. "It's just a stupid, commercialized excuse to sell crap. I don't get the hype," he grumbles.

Despite his aversion, when he notices your excitement for the occasion, Shigaraki chooses to bite his tongue.

In a rare show of consideration, Shigaraki instructs Kurogiri to order a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the local florist. This act of embracing the holiday, even reluctantly, is his way of showing that he cares about your happiness.

"I don't get why people like this crap, but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to change my mind."

Shigaraki, true to his personality, prefers a minimalist celebration. Instead of grand gestures, he might suggest a quiet evening or a simple dinner, keeping the focus on the two of you without succumbing to excessive sentimentality.

He ensures that all the League of Villains members are assigned unexpected additional missions, even though they may express their discontent. Shigaraki wants to spend this day with you only.

As the day progresses, Shigaraki might quietly observe your joy. "You better appreciate this. I don't do this for just anyone," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, showing that your happiness matters to him.

For the evening, Shigaraki proposes an anti-romantic movie night, selecting films that defy typical romantic clichés. "None of that sappy stuff. Let's watch something that doesn't make my teeth hurt," he suggests.

As you drift into slumber nestled in his embrace, he delicately traces patterns on your back with his pinky cautiously elevated to prevent any accidental decay. "I love you, little Y/N," he whispers, even though he's well aware that you're already lost in the realm of dreams.

♡ Bakugo ♡

Valentine's Day, according to Bakugo, is a bothersome and superficial affair, hiding behind a facade of fake sentimentality. Ranting about the superficiality of the day, Katsuki loudly declares, "I don't need some capitalist crap to tell me when to appreciate someone, tsk!"

"It's a dumb day. Why should I care?" Initially dismissing the idea of celebrating, he flaunted his lack of interest until the sight of your disappointment shattered his nonchalant façade.

Experiencing a pang in his chest, he noticed your lower lip trembling as you tried to assure him that you didn't need to participate. Even though he often expressed his emotions through actions, he couldn't shake the feeling that this time might be different.

With a resigned sigh, he swallows his pride, extending a genuine apology. He confesses to a change of heart, "Look, I changed my damn mind. No harm in spending time together or making this stupid day special, I guess. You're important or whatever."

Bakugo, true to himself, plans unconventional celebration. "If we're gonna do this, we'll do it my goddamn way. Tsk, I heard there's a place with those damn fluffy dogs. Don't get any ideas, I just thought it might be amusing or something," he grumbles, leading you to a Shiba cafe.

Bakugo finds himself in a rare, awkward position as one of the dogs playfully jumps on him. "Stupid mutt, get off!" he protests, but you catch a fleeting, embarrassed smile as he secretly enjoys the canine attention.

As you both sip coffee surrounded by Shiba Inu companions, Bakugo, unaccustomed to public displays of affection, reaches for your hand under the table and rubs its top with his thumb while drinking his espresso.

The sheer joy on Bakugo's face as a Shiba snuggles against him is a sight to behold. He attempts to hide it with a dismissive comment, "They're just damn dogs, but whatever, they're kinda cute, I guess."

Upon arriving home, Bakugo could catch you off guard by presenting a dessert skillfully shaped like a heart. "It's stupid, but fine. You better eat it," he grumbles, a touch of pride in his eyes surfacing as you commend his cooking prowess.

As the day draws to a close, Bakugo may catch you off guard with an unforeseen tender moment – enfolding you in his sturdy arms, drawing you snugly against his robust chest. He gently massages your shoulders and plants affectionate kisses on your face. "I love you, Y/N. Make sure you never forget that," he declares, his words carrying a sincerity that transcends his usual gruff demeanor.

♡ Shoto ♡

While Shoto may come across as indifferent to Valentine's Day, the truth is, he's like a child eagerly anticipating a visit to a candy store, envisioning a day filled with profound love shared with you.

Shoto brims with an unusual level of excitement, eager to shower you with pampering and spoils. While he typically engages in such gestures, this time, he has elaborate plans under wraps – surprises that would catch you off guard and leave you pleasantly astonished.

On Valentine's morning, you wake up to the irresistible aroma of a homemade breakfast. Shoto, armed with a chef's apron, presents a heart-shaped feast, each dish crafted with precision and love. As you enter the kitchen, he greets you with a warm smile, "Happy Valentine's Day. This is just the beginning."

Throughout the day, you discover tiny love notes strategically placed in unexpected corners. Each note holds sweet affirmations, showcasing Shoto's meticulous effort to sprinkle your day with joy.

In a quiet moment, Shoto presents you with a carefully crafted, handmade gift. It could be a piece of art, a personalized item, or something that holds sentimental value. He shyly admits, "I wanted to make something special for you. I hope you like it."

Unbeknownst to you, Shoto unveils a surprise date that surpasses all expectations. "I thought we could spend the day doing things you enjoy. It's all about making you happy." From a tranquil picnic in the park to a spontaneous dance under the stars, every moment is curated to create lasting memories.

Upon returning home, as evening approaches, Shoto unveils a cozy haven, complete with blankets and your favorite snacks. The ambiance exudes warmth, inviting you to unwind and revel in the tranquility of your shared love.

The day concludes with a handwritten love poem, penned by Shoto himself. Each line is an eloquent expression of his feelings, capturing the nuances of your connection in words as sweet as the love that binds you.

Before you retire for the night, Shoto pulls you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for being with me. Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

♡ Hawks ♡

Upon waking up on Valentine's Day, you're greeted with a pile of gifts neatly arranged beside the bed. Hawks, unable to contain his excitement, watches for your reaction with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe. Open them up!"

Hawks takes Valentine's Day as the ultimate opportunity to showcase his love. From breakfast in bed to surprise outings, he plans an entire day filled with over-the-top affectionate gestures. "Get ready for a day all about you, songbird."

Hawks, with his love language being gift-giving, meticulously selects each present. "I thought of everything you might like. You're worth it," he mentions as you uncover thoughtful and personalized gifts.

The day unfolds with whimsical adventures – perhaps a surprise trip to an amusement park or an impromptu picnic. Hawks is determined to make the day unforgettable.

Throughout the day, Hawks showers you with unexpected compliments. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he confesses.

As the day progresses, Hawks concludes with a romantic dinner, whether it's a home-cooked meal or a reservation at a fancy restaurant. "To us and many more Valentine's Days to come," he toasts, a warmth in his golden eyes.

As the day comes to a close, Hawks proposes the idea of late-night stargazing. Draped in blankets, both of you settle on the spacious balcony of his apartment. Hawks, pointing out constellations, weaves stories of the night sky. "Just us and the stars. Can't beat a moment like this, huh?"

As the day winds down, Hawks might surprise you with a midnight snack. "Can't end the day on an empty stomach. Here, your favorite, babybird," he says, presenting a thoughtful treat.

As you both drift into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms, Keigo can't help but revel in the profound happiness that washes over him. Having found the love of his life, he's determined to cherish this precious connection on a daily basis, not just during Valentine's Day.

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tiny-pretty-sana · 2 months

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sana gf | headcanons

warning: nsfw content (+18), minors dni, men dni

sfw

sana is a ray of sunshine, the type of person that lights up a room as soon as she gets in

she’s welcoming, warm, and full of energy like having a coffee in a winter morning

she’s a dangerous combination of cute and sexy, she’s aware and she takes advantage of that. she knows exactly what to say and how to act to get her way

sana the type of girl that gets princess treatment without having to ask for it

you get her flowers, open the door for her, give her your jacket, carry her bag and you will do everything it takes to get the plushie she wants at the fair

she is aware of everything you do for her, she appreciates it and gives you all that love back

she is very empathetic. it helps to solve conflicts most of the time, but sometimes it can really affect her to see you upset and she cries with you the same way she celebrates your achievements as if they are her own

she’s an it girl, she’s up to date with the latest fashion trends, likes designer clothes and has an amazing fashion sense. since she's your girlfriend you've started to dress better

she takes you shopping and chooses your outfits on special occasions but her favorite thing is to wear subtle matching outfits with you

her love language is physical touch, so expect a huge amount of skinship

she clings to you, kisses you, hugs you, holds your hand, caresses you, plays with your hair, strokes you… she always has her hands all over you

she doesn’t mind pda to the point it can be too much and you sometimes have to stop her because things can get too cheesy or heated

she showers you with love and she wants everyone to know how much she loves you and how special you are

she posts ig stories of you with cute emojis or texts, photo dumps of your dates and she will randomly bring you up in conversation when you aren’t there

she will ask you to take a lot photos of her when you go on dates

her gifts are always expensive, luxurious, useful and she never misses

sana has a flirtatious personality, it’s something that just comes natural to her. she’s playful, she enjoys teasing you and likes seeing you get nervous but if you respond with the same energy you will have her blushing and giggling

she likes the attention and sometimes she might be flirty with her friends or strangers but you don’t really mind, you know she just likes attention and having a bit of fun

however don’t you dare to flirt with anyone that isn't her because she’s possessive and the jealous type of girlfriend. she’s been clear about that since the beginning and you actually love seeing this side of her

you can easily tell when she's jealous/mad because she looks like she’s about to slit the throat of anyone that gets too close or too touchy with you for her liking with her perfectly done nails

when she's jealous not even her empathy can save you. she won’t say anything, she will give you a cold shoulder until you apologize or convince her that she’s the only one for you

she always sends you mirror photos when she’s in the changing room, when she likes her outfit or when she tries a new make up even if you’re in the same room

when you aren't together she's the type of girlfriend that sends you a bunch of texts with a bunch of emojis and a bunch of exclamation marks

"good morning baby!💟" "have a great dayyy!!!🩷" "have you eaten yet?" "💗💗💗💗💗" "drink water!!! 😡💗" "i miss youuu!!! > < 💗" "good night babyyyy!!! 💖"

nsfw

as someone that expresses her love mostly through physical touch being intimate isn't essential or the center of your relationship, but it's important to her

she likes to make the best of these moments whether they are planned, spontaneous, rushed, soft and slow or fast and rough she will make you feel special, loved, desired, wanted and even worshiped

sana is a passionate, skilled and generous lover

that dangerous mix of cuteness and sexiness is also present in the room she might blush, giggle and cover her face and the next second she's whispering the filthiest things that she wants you to do to her in your ear

when you call her "princess" something just clicks in her brain

she is pretty much a switch in every sense of the word she enjoys bottoming, topping, being in charge and letting you have control

she's possessive, so of course she likes to mark you up and leave hickeys and bites all over your neck and other hidden places. luckily they're subtle enough so they can only be noticed if someone gets a litter too close

sana is usually so touchy that it is hard to tell apart when she is being her usual needy self and when she is just being a brat and is teasing you

casual touches on your thighs, kisses too close to the mouth, glances that undress you, praises that get a little too suggestive…

she's a tease, she likes attention and also praising, so sending you pictures of her cute outfits is not the only thing she does. when you're at work or out with coworkers or friend it's likely that you'll receive pictures of sana in underwear or lingerie if she feels like behaving because if she isn't she will be completely naked doing ungodly poses

she's a kinky girl, open to try new things and isn't shy about it, in fact she has made a few great suggestions that now are part of your routine

her main kinks are praising, degradation, bondage and orgasm control

she loves mix of praising and degradation "you're such a good slut for me, aren't you?" "taking me so well like the little whore you are" "my pretty slut"

she loves when you use the strap on her and she has recently started wearing the strap as well and you can't choose if she is better at giving or receiving

when you're using the strap she loves to do this thing . you lay on your back, she gets between your legs and her hand starts teasing you with strokes on your inner thighs, then she slides a finger between your folds and as soon as she feels your wetness she wraps her lips around the tip of the strap locking her eyes with yours if you're strong enough to look at her

she loves teasing but she hates being teased

if you tease her in an inappropriate place or at an inappropriate time when she can't do anything about it when you finally get home she'll make you sit in a chair in front of the bed and will make you watch while she touches herself

when this happens there are clear rules: 1. you can’t touch her 2. you can’t touch yourself

she is very vocal. she tells you what she wants, where to touch her and how to do it but she also moans without restraining herself and always lets you know how close she is and how good it feels

aftercare is just a long intimate session of cuddles and kisses

#twice headcanons #twice imagines #twice smut #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana hcs #sana x reader #gg imagines #gg head canons

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amywritesthings · 2 months

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chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade.

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know.

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground.

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers.

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming.

Good.

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

Place Hands Here

Suguru Geto

originally posted on AO3! :) this was sugu's birthday fic :3

fem reader, established relationship, vaginal sex, some dry humping, choking (geto), riding, referenced cannabis use

3.5k

MDNI

“Thank you, baby,” Geto says with so much fondness in his voice as he rests his hand on your thigh and gives it an ample squeeze. The size of his hands never fails to amaze you, palms splaying and engulfing the thickness of your thighs with no issue; veins on his hands serving as a roadmap to the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.

It’s been a little over a year since you started dating, but his velvety voice still warms your chest nearly every time he speaks. It provides the same comfort as a blanket knitted with ounces and ounces of love; every stitch curated to provide your brain with a rush of dopamine. Gentle, yet every bit commanding and domineering. He can make a king hand over their throne to him with just a few words without even trying, you’re pretty sure.

“I had a great time,” he adds on, pressing a soft kiss to the temple of your forehead.

“You better have.” Resting your hand over his, your thumb brushes against the skin on the top of his palm. His skin is always smoother than yours, soft and supple like clouds floating through the bluest of skies. Every gentle graze of yours still manages to send a jolt down his spine. “Or else I would have cried.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” His soft chuckle fills the space in the back of the Uber you two are in.

City lights illuminate the night as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, soft patter of rain against the window mixed with the crooning of Radiohead filling the space. A sigh of content leaves your lips as your head rests on his shoulders, heavy from all the events of the day.

It’s been a great day—a long, but great day.

Time wanes, only about an hour remaining in the momentous day that is Geto’s birthday.

He’s a simple man, never asking for much and always appreciating what is given to him. It’s one of the things you love about him, but it also drives you up a wall. He knows this, always teasing you that there’s no reason to stress yourself out regarding his general satisfaction with however the day is celebrated. With you, anything is ideal.

Even if that means telling you again and again that there’s no need to worry about things being perfect when you’re already by his side. Still, his heart thumps knowing every little thing you do is with his joy in mind.

Like starting the day with a perfectly rolled joint and taking him to one of his favorite diners for breakfast. Large appetites fueled by cannabis were quelled with what he considered to be the best pancakes he’s ever tasted. Saccharine from the syrup giving him a needed rush as you whooshed him off to the next destination for the day.

Serenity seeped into his bones as the masseuse worked all of the knots out of his back. Just a few feet away you also laid face down on a massage table, every kink rolled and flattened out. In the space between the table your fingers were intertwined, yours squeezing his just a little bit harder when the masseuse hit a particularly rough spot.

Celebrating another lap around the sun was always an occasion for indulgence. Another joint was shared, both of your consciousnesses melting like wax in your bodies as you whisked him away to the next activity.

Empty canvases were soon filled with brilliant pastel hues as paintbrushes made calculated strokes. Geto always seemed to excel at most things, a picturesque sunset that looked like—no, probably looked even better than a postcard replacing the previously white surface. Yours looked more like a toddler having way too much fun using paint for the first time, but of course he paid you a compliment anyway.

A quick lunch stop was followed by a limited rerelease of one of his favorite movies. He’s seen the movie hundreds of times by now, and even in the darkness of the movie theater you can still make out the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles at his favorite parts. It’s the boyish smile that you can never get enough of, the same one that makes your heart race and mind numb.

The day concluded with a free jazz concert in the park, sultry symphonies caressing your ears as you sat on a blanket in the grass cuddled up next to Geto. Yellow fairy lights adorned the tree as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, showering you with his gratitude for making sure he enjoyed every second of the day.

Even as rain started to fall from the sky and shroud you both in a light layer of mist, he was still soaring high, enamored with every bit of effort you put into the day. Every nervous lip bite as you awaited his reaction to the next destination, the smile on your face when he kissed your lips and assured it was more than what he could have ever asked for made his heart swell. He even let out a laugh when you started pouting and apologizing at the shift in the weather, once again kissing away any of your worries.

As the Uber arrives at your shared apartment, he grabs both of your canvases and helps you out of the car. It’s a short walk to the door that you unlock, throwing your purse down on the kitchen island and leaving your shoes by the door. Feet relieved from the black platform boots you wore with a red, pleated miniskirt and long sleeved black cropped top, you let your body sink into the plush, velvet sofa in the living room.

Geto follows your lead, taking off his shoes and sinking into the spot next to you. Finding more comfort in his body than the sofa you straddle him, pressing your chest against his. The soft contours of your body are always so malleable when in proximity to the defined ridges of his; warmth from his body always setting every one of your nerve endings ablaze. Just the simple movement of his hand brushing against your lower back is enough to make you writhe, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

The melding of your bodies is akin to adjacent puzzle pieces, two parts that are meant to be together no matter the circumstances. One hand caresses the side of his face, fingertips dancing across porcelain skin while the other creeps beneath his shirt. His taut muscles ripple beneath your touch, heart starting to beat faster in his chest when you say, “You’re so beautiful, Suguru.”

“I love it when you say that.” It doesn’t matter how many compliments he receives from others when yours are the only ones that makes his cheeks flush. Only your words are capable of making him feel this coveted. “I’m so lucky to be yours.”

“So am I,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. Chalking up your connection to either luck or fate has always been a debate warring in your mind, but in times like this when you’re staring into his smoldering gaze, you guess it really doesn’t matter. Strong arms encapsulate you tenderly, providing the space to be vulnerable without the fear of judgment. An irreplaceable bond that you know you’ll never share with anyone else.

His palms trace up the back of your thighs, traveling higher and higher until he securely has a grasp on both of your cheeks. He loves it when you wear skirts, eyes and hands always greedy to graze and grope at your thighs. His mind is always shameless, wandering to more sensual planes even in the most docile of moments. Instinctively you rock against him, core grinding against the erection growing in his jeans, a breathy pant leaving your lips.

“Bet that feels good,” he murmurs against your lips, thrusting his hips upward in tandem with your grinding. The rocking of your hips only makes his cock strain more in his jeans, the growing bulge only aiding in stoking the flames of your arousal. He groans when your hips start to move faster than his own, giving your ass a harder squeeze. “Shit, feels so good for me too, baby.”

The only thing you can feel is Geto, a thickness against your clothed cunt that’s already drenched through your panties, aching to be filled. With a whine you press your lips against his, simultaneously removing your hand from beneath his shirt to undo the buckle on his belt. Kissing him is like being served your favorite meal over and over again; the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue never failing to be the most exquisite flavor. No variation is needed when the consistency he provides sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body that makes your back arch and toes curl.

Hands move fast and lips move slow as your bodies chant a desperate plea to stay connected to each other. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip lasciviously as he gives your ass a hard squeeze, fingernails making soft crescent indents in your skin. It’s always a tantalizing kind of pain, one that only makes you moan and open your mouth to invite his tongue inside. Adjusting your heads so your lips are perfectly slotting against each other, your tongues collide as you manage to get the button of his jeans undone.

The hand on his face moves to glide through his silky tresses as his tongue continues to caress yours. It’s give and take, letting your tongue push past his lips, sharing the combined taste of your desire. His eyes close as he revels in the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, scraping and pulling just the way he likes it. All the while your tongues still slide against each other, sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of ecstasy.

As desperate as you are to keep kissing him, to drown in the sea of euphoria that his lips provide, the need to have him stretch you out and fill you up takes precedence. His brow furrows when you abruptly pull your lips away, unsure if he suddenly did something wrong. While he thinks he might have squeezed just a bit too hard, the only problem is your own greed. Without words, you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. It’s muscle memory for his hands to reach out and touch your breasts, but your hands are already at the hem of his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. He easily complies, ridding himself of the material while you raise your hips to shimmy off your skirt and push the waistband of his boxer briefs down.

“Fuck,” he hisses when his cock slaps against his stomach, pearls of precome steadily leaking from the angry, red tip. He throws his head back momentarily, but snaps his attention forward when you grip him at the base. He can’t help but throb in your hand, and you swear he grows just a little bit harder when you squeeze his thick length firmly. He sucks in a breath as your hand begins to stroke him, thumb running over the slit and smearing his precome down the length of his shaft. A hot trail of spit drips from your mouth and onto his cock to ease any friction, providing a smooth motion for your hand to continue working him.

“You’re so big, Sugu,” you coo, and he throbs in your hand again. His back sinks further into the sofa as you continue stroking him, only sounds filling the room are his soft pants and the slick of your hand moving up and down his cock. Another part of him that you’ll never get tired of. Every time his cock twitches in your grasp you can feel your own heat pulsing, and you know there’s only one solution.

Pushing the crotch of your panties aside, you rest one hand on his shoulder for balance as you line your entrance up with his cock. “Easy, baby,” he advises, moving one hand from your ass to hold his cock steady for you as you sink onto his inches. It’s a tearing sensation every time he enters you, a pressure that always makes you whine as you sink your head into the crook of his neck.

“Always so tight for me,” he hisses as his cocks sinks deeper into your heat, stretching out your walls in the most delicious way. Your hands wrap around his neck, breaths become shallow as you adjust to his girth inside of you. His hand returns to your cheek once he’s fully seated inside you, tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck, your pussy was just made for me, you know that?” he breathes, cock already pulsating inside you. “Perfect fucking pussy, and it’s all mine.”

Despite the trembling of your legs, your breathing returns to normal as your hips roll forward. Your tongue darts out, licking a lewd stripe against his neck, the salty and sweet taste of his skin on your tongue further fueling the motion of your hips. His eyes fall closed as he relishes in your tight warmth hugging his cock, the softness of your skin in the palm of his hands.

“F-fuck.” No stranger to his cock despite the initial shock of him stretching you out each time, your hips develop a steady rhythm, rolling against his pelvis like lazy tides crashing over the shore. Your clit grazes against his abdomen which he flexes with each forward moment. It makes you whine each time, but he doesn’t do anymore than that, letting you set the pace, using his cock as you please because no matter what you do it’ll always feel so fucking good.

Without ceasing your movements, you remove your head from his neck to plant another kiss on his lips. He returns it, sinking his teeth into your bottom lips to match the pressure of his nails sinking into the flesh on your ass.

“Need you to do something for me,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire against your lips as he flexes his abs again.

“What’s that?” you ask with another roll of your hips.

He grabs one of your wrists, moving it from behind his neck to place your hand around the thick column of his neck. Shock paints your face, and all he does is flash you a crooked smile. This is… new.

“Go on,” he insists. “Squeeze.”

“O–Okay.” Hesitantly you do as he asks, giving his neck a squeeze. He looks entirely unimpressed.

“Baby,” he gently warns. “Stop playing with me.”

Hoping the second time will be the charm, you squeeze again. This still isn’t enough to satisfy him. The third time doesn’t seem to be the charm either, despite what everyone seems to believe. He only tsks and shakes his head.

“What am I supp—”

The rest of your sentence vanishes from existence when a strong hand encircles your throat, squeezing with a practiced pressure that gives you more of a head high than the joint you shared with him earlier. It’s nothing more than a reflex when your cunt clenches around his cock, a muffled mewl leaving your lips with the limited air supply he’s left you with.

“You see that?” He directs your gaze down to his lap, in the space where the two of you are connected. The view only makes your walls constrict around him as you whine. It’s a lewd sight, your cunt swallowing his cock whole with traces of your arousal slicking his pelvis. He clenches his teeth and lets out a low groan as he takes in the view himself, letting his thumb slowly circle your clit. “Feel how hard your little pussy is squeezing my cock?” He lazily thrusts his hips upward, making you clamp around him again. “Feel how you’re just sucking me in?”

It’s dizzying, the pressure between your thighs and the one on your clit keeping any real words at bay. All you can do is nod pathetically as he continues his ministrations.

“Good girl.” His grip around your throat loosens, but he doesn't let up on your clit, continuing to trace circles on the bundle of nerves. “That’s how hard I need you to choke me, baby. Now do it right this time before I get mad.”

He releases his grip from your throat completely and throws his head back, an open invitation for your hands.

With more conviction in your actions, your hand circles his throat again and gives a much harder squeeze. His Adam’s apple bobs, a twisted smile slowly spreading across his face as you squeeze again, cock throbbing inside you.

“Haa–ngh,” he moans, a delirious head high taking over. “Just like that baby,” he praises as you apply pressure again, heeding his instructions perfectly. “ Fuck , you’re amazing, so amazing.”

His hands find their resting place on your ass again as he continues to contract his abdomen against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head while your hands take on their new role of becoming his favorite necklace.

His pulse races rapidly against your hands as they stay tightly wrapped around his throat, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen his face painted with such bliss. Head thrown back, locks falling behind him as you continue riding him, chasing your orgasm at the same time his is approaching.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t asked you to do this before, but there isn’t a chance he can go without this feeling now. He plants his feet on the floor, thrusting into your heat with dire need, hitting your sweet spot with each upward movement. “S-Sugu,” you moan, legs becoming more useless each time his perfectly curved cock stimulates that spongy spot inside you. Even with failing legs and his cock seemingly trying to drill into your brain until he's the only thing you can coherently think about, your hands continue squeezing his neck.

Harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the room with each wicked surge of his hips. The pace is no longer up to you as he groans, hands gripping your ass tightly with the same ferocity you have on his neck. “S-Shit. ” He can normally hold it, draw out a session for much longer but gosh, he never expected to be in such a frenzy from such a simple request. “Fuck, baby. Keep squeezing, that’s so good,” he babbles. “Fuck, gonna come so hard in your little pussy, gonna fill her right up.”

“Please,” you whine, clamping down around his cock at his words. This is what he wants, right? You layer your free hand over the one currently on his neck, and the added pressure is enough to make his vision blurry.

It’s absolutely a mouth watering sensation. He can’t help the laugh of joy that escapes him with the little bit of breath that he has, continuing to pound into your heat, drilling against that one spot until your legs are shaking and the only thing you’re able to moan out is his name.

“O-Oh my god, Sugu, ” you cry out, grip around his neck loosening, orgasm like a shaken up soda bottle threatening to burst open at any second.

“Keep squeezing for me, baby,” he grits out, his own impending orgasm only seconds away from rising to the surface. “Gonna come together, just keep squeezing, I’m almost there.”

Tears springing from the corner of your eyes, you nod, arms shaking as you use the last bit of strength in them to give a final, hard squeeze.

Geto explodes, a hot load of his cum decorating your insides as your cunt spasms around him, milking him for everything he’s worth. He hisses, rope after rope spurting inside you making you shiver.

“Hah– fuck,” he chuckles after a few moments of comfortable silence, cock still lodged inside you as your forehead presses against his. One of his hands caresses the sides of your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you, baby.” The words are laced with the utmost care and affection as he presses another chaste kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, squirming in his lap as his cum begins to leak out of you, pooling around his pelvis.

“For just being you,” he answers, his other hand landing on the opposite side of your face. “And for making this one of the best birthdays ever.”

“Even though I didn’t choke you hard enough the first time?” you joke.

“You have all the time in the world to get it right,” he jokes back, but in reality, he doesn’t care.

There really is no wrong when it comes to you. And as the clock moves into the hour of the new day and you settle against his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing replacing previous pants and moans, he knows with certainty there’s no one else he wants to take another lap around the sun with.

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