#( t; confidence is key )

[dental1234]

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[ssahotchnerr]

aaron’s wife going into labor on his birthday or the day before and gives birth on his birthday?

only more reasons to celebrate

happy birthday aaron 🥰 & the abridged version of ellie's debut!! (now it's official she and aaron share a birthday <3) cw; fem pregnant!reader, (sad) references to 9x5 and takes place end of 9x6, vague childbirth talk with no specific details, fluff!!! wc; 1.3k

"Happy almost birthday. I'll keep it on the DL." You heard Penelope utter to Aaron, faintly as she walked past him.

"Thank you." He replied, finding your eyes and offering a wink.

Come tomorrow, he was confident it would be anything but on the down low. He knew you, and although you were about ready to pop, you would go all out for him as much as you possibly could.

And he was right - you and Jack had already planned his day out to a T, beginning with a birthday banner and all.

"Okay everybody, I guess it's time-" Penelope spoke to the group, embracing her role as hostess, holding the team's very first Day of the Dead party.

You smiled to yourself at their brief exchange, your eyes flicking between the two of them. Your heart warmed, especially when Aaron sidled alongside you, a hand finding your lower back.

After the last few weeks, after what Aaron had endured, there was only more of a reason to celebrate. His close proximity; the heat radiating from his body, the smell of his cologne, choked you up immediately.

Sole reminders he was in fact, here.

Undergoing emergency surgery, fighting for his life - all of which nearly sent you into an early labor - once again he had defied all odds. It could've been very likely you could've been celebrating his birthday without him, talking to him through a candle as he and Jack did to Haley.

You immediately pushed the thought from your mind. It petrified you. Losing him. Bringing your baby into the world without him. Jack losing another parent. Life without Aaron. You couldn't afford to think like that.

And now, with that in the past, it finally felt as if life were settling back down. As much as it could, at least. The newest Hotchner addition soon to make their arrival into your family.

"Hey," You said softly, mumbling underneath Penelope's spiel. "I love you."

His hand moved from your back to your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "I love you."

But despite your want for a bit of normalcy, it was interrupted by twinge erupting in your body. It wasn't your first little pang either, but you figured - it couldn't be. Not yet.

JJ, on the other hand, was keyed in onto you. She's been studying you all night long, throughout all of Penelope's planned extravaganzas - appetizers, the remembrances, enjoying the party. From every movement, reaction, facial expression.

It wasn't until the strongest contraction hit, and when you were beginning to seriously question it. She, out of all people, would know. She nearly did the same thing herself.

"What?" You innocently asked, despite the fact you knew, as her intensifying stare hadn't lifted from you in a fair few minutes. You flinched slightly, pain written across your face. You lowered your hand, deciding against the hors d'oeuvres you had been reaching for.

"How far apart are they?"

That was all JJ had to say, causing an instant standstill in the room. Aaron's eyes widened as they shot to you, realization filling them within a second. The rest of the team's conversations came to a halt, anticipating eyes on you. An excited squeal escaped Penelope.

Everything after that was a blur. Aaron getting you to the car in a frenzy; a very calm, and collected frenzy. Getting to the hospital, checking in, and experiencing the highs and lows of childbirth. At one point, you certainly cut off the circulation in Aaron's hand.

Come mid morning and an epidural later, she was here.

"Sorry for overshadowing your birthday." You took a break from admiring the little one swaddled in your arms to glance at your husband. It was hard to tear your gaze away. She was perfect.

And not only did you feel an outpouring amount of love for her, but Aaron as well. Viewing him in a different, lovingly light. It felt as if your chest could burst with infatuation. She was half you, half him. The two of you brought this bundle of joy into the world, together.

"Are you kidding?" Aaron gave you an almost offended look from where he was seated beside you, before a smile overtook his face. He pressed a kiss to your temple, gazing at your daughter too. "This is easily, easily the best birthday I could ever imagine. You've given me the greatest gift. Thank you for making it even more special, sweetheart."

The happiness on your face grew, and he immediately gave you a kiss. You could feel his smile.

"Thank you for making me a Dad again."

Later in the day, Jack's head poked through the crack of the door, a grinning Jessica behind him.

"Hey," Aaron beckoned the two of them in, both entering slowly. Jess had a plastic tray of cupcakes in hand. Celebrations were in order, times two.

"Hi Mom, Dad."

Jack hesitantly approached, surprisingly shy. You imagined Jessica had given him the quiet talk on the way up. Either that, or maybe he was still a bit weary from when he visited Aaron in the hospital a few weeks ago - there was the smallest bit of worrisome furrowed in his brows.

Jess stepped off to the side, allowing the four of you to have your moment.

"Hi buddy." You greeted as your eyes immediately welled up, the emotion clear in your voice; overwhelmed from enduring childbirth, your hormones everywhere, and the pure happiness coursing through your veins. "Wanna meet your sister?"

It was surreal too; Jack finally meeting his little sibling. After months of excitement, preparation, talks of what life would be like with a new addition. The time had finally arrived.

Right now. Right now was the beginning of their bond that was sure to be the most special thing.

"Sister?" His face lit up, any remaining hesitations aside as he made it to your bedside, attempting to lean over to get a clearer view. "She's a girl?"

"Here, careful." Aaron's hands extended forward, helping him onto the hospital bed. You were sore, multiple IVs were poking into you, and to make certain the baby wasn't disrupted by any of the movement.

Jack nestled gently into your side, peering at her in absolute awe. The smallest of breaths left him, you could feel his exhale on your arm. "I can't believe that's really her. She's so tiny."

"Isn't she? Can you believe you were this small once?" You asked, adjusting the blanket to expose a bit more of her face. At the action, Aaron's posture straightened, ready to assist if needed, or to simply do it for you. He was definitely worried you'd somehow overexert yourself. "Are you up for holding her?"

Jack's expression widened, nodding vigorously as Aaron did help this time - moving her from your arms to his, and ensuring the back of her head was supported. The classic pillow-under-the elbow strategy.

Once settled, her eyes opened for a moment, blinking up at her big brother, as if she knew she was being held by him. Jack's gaze lifted in shock, glancing between you and Aaron. Once again, cue your tears.

"What's her name?"

"Eleanor." Aaron answered proudly, another smile tugging on his lips. You met his gaze, grinning.

"She shares a birthday with you Dad." Jack stated, using the side of his index finger to brush her cheek. "That's so cool. You guys are like twins."

"Yeah well, we'll see how much Eleanor likes it as she gets older."

You playfully rolled your eyes, your reaction causing a chuckle to exit Aaron. His hand found the back of your head, lovingly smoothing your hair down.

"It's very cool." Aaron still confirmed, his heart full. "I was just telling Mom, this is one the best presents I could ever receive."

"And two birthdays mean two birthday cakes." Jack looked up at his father, grinning from ear to ear. "Ellie will love it."

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day seven

lando norris - lingerie

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you never thought that orange was your colour. in fairness maybe a softer orange or a burnt orange would suit your body better. but mclaren knew very little about nice colours, the glaring orange they use was great on the track. but terrible on your body.

after his most recent win, you wanted to impress your boyfriend of the last several months. he worked so hard to get where he was, so close to the championship that he could almost taste the champagne of victory! and it was your job to make sure that morale was high for him, so he could see his victory to the end.

and sometimes that meant wearing the garish mclaren orange.

you wore the lingerie all day on the track. you were thankful that the clothes you wore over top were made of a thick enough material to hide any showing of what was underneath. no one needed to see your orange panties. but, that did mean you were fanning yourself more often due to the heat.

damn if you do, damn if you don't.

however, you were the most happy about the fact that despite the colour. the set was rather comfortable. the bra had enough support that it didn't dig into your sides and the panties were made of a lacy material that didn't scratch at weird places. and most of all you were happy to see lando score his victory.

he was all smiles as you two headed back to the hotel room for the night. you were practically guiding him to your room. he was attached to you like barnacle. his arms wrapped around you, you were wearing his mclaren hat.

he was even getting a good feel of you which made you squirm a little as you tried to get the key into the door. once it was opened you managed to get enough distance from him to get your shoes off. he followed suit, he knew you wouldn't let him get his dirty runners into your shared bed. he was running off the high of the weekend. he wanted to dig his hands into his beautiful girlfriend and give her all the loving he could.

he was eager to get his black t-shirt off and strip down to nothing. but he got curious when you got closer to the bedroom and hadn't taken a single thing off (other than your shoes). and once you got into the bedroom, you sat on the bed while lando stood there partially undressed.

"is everything okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "oh yeah, of course! i just had a surprise for you. and i didn't want to ruin it in the living room." you giggled, "come sit and i'll show you."

lando, eager to please, sat down and got his belt out of the loops of his jeans. he watched you get up before you reached for the hem of your t-shirt. you paused for a moment and lando leaned forward.

"god, this is going to be embaressing. you better not think it's tacky."

lando chuckled, "babe, you could wear leopard print and tiger print at the same time and i wouldn't think it was tacky. c'mon, show me." his voice gave you enough confidence to fully get your t-shirt off. revealing the bright orange bra underneath. lando's eyes went wide and he said, "oh, wow!"

you dropped the shirt and crossed your arms, "ugh, this is stupid."

"no, no! i love it. is that my number right there." he leaned a little forward and pulled your arms away from your chest. as an added detail you put on it you sewed lando's number over the left cup of the bra. he beamed at you, "oh, this is beautiful." then took you by the arms and pulled you onto the bed.

he was soon over top of you, his hands on you as he kissed you passionately. he continued to give you praise for your undergarments. you were such a thoughtful girlfriend. you were perfect for him and he loved you so much. he soon got out of his clothes rather quickly, but admired the lingerie on you for a little while longer.

he touched your breasts, he grabbed hold and felt the fabric and you soft skin under his palms. his cock was hard as he admired your beauty. and you couldn't help but feel hot in the cheeks as you laid there under him.

"you look good in this colour."

"i don't know if you'd be saying that if you weren't driving for mclaren." you replied then lando leaned in a kissed you on the lips. you felt him start to undo your bra and you did your best to get the panties off. he wished that you couldn't left them on the entire time you had sex. but, the only think better than you in mclaren orange was you naked.

"as long as you had my number on you, i'd be happy. you could be in a potato sack with the number four, and i'd still make love to you." he chuckled as he got the bra off. then slowly got the panties off.

once you were naked, lando started to undress himself, your eyes lingered on his toned body and you leaned in to kiss him over the heart which made him shudder a little bit. you giggled against his heated skin.

"maybe next time i should make you wear something with my name on it." then kissed his collarbone.

he worked at his jeans and laughed a little, "i'll happily do that." before he kicked off his pants and eventually his boxers. now both naked you two were together in the bed.

you moaned into the kiss he placed on your lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. you rubbed yourself up against him. lando's hands roamed your body.

when he pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled at you, "you're beautiful. so beautiful. i can't believe you were wearing that all day today. i wished you showed me, i would've happily take it off at the track."

"oh my god, you perv." you giggled as you raked your fingers through his dark hair, "you'd happily have me over your car if given the chance."

he pulled away and beamed at you, "will you." and was met with a slap on the chest. he laughed, "i'm joking!" before he took you by the hips and brought you closer to him. he eyed your body for a moment and licked his lips, "plus, i'd hate for anyone else to see all this beautiful. call me selfish, but i want this all to myself." his cock twitched at the sight of you.

"good then, because you have it. every last inch, from top to bottom." and you watched lando smile before he leaned in once more for a heated kiss. you held onto his shoulders while he got a better hold of your hips.

when he pulled away, he got himself properly in between your legs. then slowly inched his cock into your pussy. you held onto the covers under you as he got himself into you. you made a soft moaning noise and he felt excitement run through him.

*

you were perfect, so perfect that you got lingerie for him. based off of his number and team colours. you looked amazing in it and he wished you'd wear it more. to know that you were wearing his colours. he leaned in for another kiss as he started to move against you. he pressed his chest up against yours. his lips found yours and held onto your soft hips.

"i love you." he said when he broke the kiss for a moment. he groaned a little before he went in for another kiss. he deepened it and he felt his heart rate increase.

you moaned against his lips, you said you loved him too in your mind as you soon held onto his shoulders. you felt lando move against you, and his hungry gaze on you as the two of you fucked on the bed.

you two made a good pair, most people would say that. especially when you greeted lando when he won and when he'd hold you so tightly after a race. you were his good luck charm and always pushed himself past his limits on the track when he knew you were watching. he didn't believe that was a 'number one fan' of his, but if there was, you'd have that title.

"i love you." he said again as he moved faster against you. he watched your breasts move with each of his movements. your hands were back on the covers and he could see you panting.

there was a bit of sweat on your bodies as the two of you moved together. you quickly found lando's pace and met it. which only made the two of you hotter. the added pleasure seeped into your brains as the bed creaked under you.

"you are the most beautiful woman in the world. when we're done i'm going to kiss every part of you. you need to know how beautiful you are. how you look under me. you drive me crazy every day, i can't do a day without seeing you or a photo of you. but no photo does it justice." he groaned as he pulled back and re positioned himself on his knees to get the perfect angle to fuck you.

"you're making me blush." you giggled as you tried to hide your face for a moment, but lando soon pressed your hands onto the bed and continued to thrust into you.

"don't hide from me. you're too beautiful to hide yourself. i want to see every inch of you." he panted a little heavier as he really moved against you. his thrusts were hard and made you see stars.

"lando!" you whined.

he looked at you as he really worked himself against you. his tanned and toned body really moved well against you. he could feel his brain full of lust as he started to lose his pace, pleasure fully taking over.

you held onto his hands tightly as you really felt the thrill of pleasure in your body. you held on tightly as you came around his cock, the pleasure washed over you like a wave and it left you panting like an animal. you could feel the sweat at your temples as it all came crashing down on you.

"lando."

"i got you, beautiful." he chuckled softly as he kissed the apple of your cheek before he continued to rut against you. the kisses continued once more and with a few more heavy thrusts, your boyfriend finished inside of you.

you whined against him and felt a shudder of want through his body. he continued to rut against you a few more times before he eventually slowed down to a stop.

he was panting heavily and so were you. he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. he wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you on the mouth. he melted a little bit into a kiss as he felt the after waves of pleasure.

"can you put the lingerie back on? i want to see it on you again, maybe take some photos." he beamed at you lazily. you pinched his cheeks and kissed him once more.

you'd do it for him, after all you paid good morning for it! <3

[dollishmehrayan]

# “YOUR LIKE A PIECE OF ART!” ── .✦ ( batboys with a s/o who has a lot of tattoos. )

a/n: this was a request by anon actually (here) anyways omg a lot of you guys are sending nationality requests like Irish!reader, Moroccan!reader, Canadian!reader and etc omgg anyways yesterday I took a small break and now I’m back!!! So yeahh tags: (batboys x a s/o who has a lot of tattoos)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Absolutely adores your tattoos. He finds them mesmerizing and often asks about the stories behind them.

"Wait, this one—what does it mean? And this one? You gotta explain it all to me!" He’s so genuinely interested it’s adorable.

Loves tracing his fingers over them absentmindedly. It’s his favorite way to relax, especially after a long patrol.

If you’re open to it, he’d love to get matching tattoos with you. Something small and meaningful, like a star or an acrobat silhouette.

He’s always hyping you up. “God, you look so cool! How did I even land you?”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finds your tattoos ridiculously attractive. You’re like a walking piece of art, and he can’t stop staring.

“Another one? Damn, I’m gonna run out of compliments if you keep adding masterpieces to your body.”

Appreciates the rebellious vibe that tattoos give, but loves that yours are deeply personal too.

If you designed any of them yourself, he’s in awe. “Wait—you drew this? Babe, you’re a genius.”

He won’t admit it, but he’s been low-key considering getting a tattoo himself—something to match or complement yours.

Loves running his hand over them, especially while you're cuddling. He’d act cool about it, but he’s secretly obsessed.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

At first, he might be a little shy about it—he’s not used to tattoos or the culture surrounding them.

"So… do they hurt? Like, a lot? Or just a bit?" He’s curious but hesitant to admit he’s interested.

After you explain the meanings and the artistry behind them, he gains a deep respect for your tattoos.

He’d geek out over the symbolism if any of them are literary or historical references.

Secretly thinks you’re the coolest person ever. Your tattoos add a boldness and confidence that he’s drawn to.

If you ever wanted to get another one, Tim would offer to help you research the best tattoo artists.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

He’s intrigued but tries to act indifferent. “Tattoos are superficial… but I suppose these are aesthetically pleasing.”

Secretly, he’s fascinated. He’ll examine your tattoos closely and ask about their meanings when he thinks you’re not paying too much attention.

If any of your tattoos are animals or nature-related, he’s deeply impressed. “A bunny? You’ve chosen well.”

Will jokingly criticize any tattoo he doesn’t like, but you know he’s not serious. He secretly admires all of them.

If you tell him you’re getting another one, he might suggest an animal that resonates with your personality. "Perhaps a panther would suit you."

Low-key, he’d be jealous if anyone else commented on how cool your tattoos are. He doesn’t like sharing your attention.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, he’d be a bit taken aback—it’s not something he’s used to, and he’s very traditional.

But once he understands that your tattoos have personal meaning, he respects your choices completely.

“You’re a work of art. Literally and figuratively.” He means it sincerely, even if it’s cheesy.

He might not be entirely comfortable showing off your tattoos in formal settings (Wayne galas and such), but he would never ask you to hide them. Instead, he would encourage you to flaunt them confidently.

Secretly, he’s fascinated by the process and would love to watch you get a tattoo one day, just to understand it better.

If anyone makes a rude comment about your tattoos, Bruce would shut them down instantly with his trademark icy glare.

RANDOM CONVOS WITH THEM THAT WOULD HAPPEN ── .✦

with dick

Dick: “So, if I get your name tattooed, does that mean I own your heart forever?”

You: “Only if it’s spelled right.”

With jason

Jason: “If you ever get a tattoo of my name, make it small. I don’t want to be embarrassed when you dump me.”

You: “you think I’ll dump you randomly?”

jason: “who wouldn’t, I’m a high maintenance guy.”

With tim

Tim: He accidentally zones out during a conversation because he’s staring at a detailed tattoo and trying to figure out the design.

With damian

Damian: “Tt, if I were to get a tattoo, it would be far more impressive than yours.” You: “Damian, I literally have a dragon sleeve.”

With bruce

Bruce: “Do all of these mean something? Or did you just think they looked… fashionable?”

You: “Some are meaningful, but yeah, Bruce. Some just look cool

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[reocidal]

untitled — k. tsukishima

tsukishima has always cared for you, but will he ever be brave enough to show it?

cws; angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, fem!reader, petnames, arranged marriage to lovers, mentions of infidelity, swearing, not proofread i think thats all

wc; 2055

you're eighteen, freshly graduated when your parents tell you about their plans; nineteen when you meet tsukishima kei. he is calm, confident, and self-assured, a complete opposite of you — you're wondering whether it's possible to survive a fall from a skyscraper. not that you'd ever actually do it, of course.

the wedding happens a week before you turn twenty, and that night, tsukishima has the grace to at least pretend to not notice as you cry yourself to sleep. when you've almost dozed off, you hear him stumble out of bed and walk away. you wonder if he has a girlfriend, another partner, someone he truly loves, someone you're keep him away from. the freezer opens and closes. the prospect of you coming between two people too jarring to think about, so you try not to, and you are asleep when he gets back to bed.

the next morning, you're mortified at your appearance in the mirror, eyes red and puffy — much worse than expected, too. no wonder tsukishima had looked at you like that. oh, shit. you're a tsukishima too, now. you turn around, preparing to go to the kitchen to look for an ice pack — you don't remember seeing one, but it still gives you something to do instead of hating yourself and him and your entire life. when you're maybe halfway there, you bump into your new husband. he hasn't been expecting to see you here either, freezing in place with a couple of spoons in one hand. wait, spoons?

he holds them out to you awkwardly, brows furrowing as you stare at him. "what? take them, my fingers are getting cold."

you finally find your voice. "what for?"

"your eyes?" he says it like it's obvious. "i put them in the freezer last night."

oh. oh.

"t-thank you," you stammer, snatching them out of his hands, rushing back to the bathroom. maybe things aren't that bad after all.

living with tsukishima means you have to learn quickly that words are not enough — words are never enough. the first few days, it's difficult for you. when you cook something hoping he'll like it, and all you get is a cursory good, a distracted not bad.

it hurts, really hurts at first. you don't even want to be here, and the lack of appreciation makes it so much worse. that is, until, he invites his best friend, tadashi yamaguchi, over for dinner.

the two of you get along much easier than you expect — he's a complete opposite of your husband. when tsukishima is away from the table, he asks about the recipes. he's heard great things about your cooking, he says. tsukki will not shut up.

"i thought he didn't like it," you say. yamaguchi laughs at that, and that day you find out that with tsukishima, you have to look deeper than just words. you have to notice the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his appreciative hums, and the way he takes second helping and sometimes even thirds.

and then one day he approaches you, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. he clears his throat, runs one hand through his already messy blonde hair, clears his throat again. he fixes his glasses as you stare up at him expectantly. "yes?"

"canyoumakesomemorestrawberryshortcake."

"what?"

"strawberry shortcake," he gets out through gritted teeth. oh, you realise. he's embarrassed. "can you make some mo—"

"of course!" you reply before he can finish, trying to spare him the humiliation. on second though, this does mean he likes what you make. life is suddenly a little bit nicer.

tsukishima (willingly) holds your hand for the first time on your first anniversary. you refer to him as kei, now, and he doesn't really mind either. he thinks it's pretty, the way you say it. but he'll never tell you that, of course. he buys you your favourite flowers, even though it's not supposed to be a special date, because you're only married because your parents made you.

you hold the bouquet with one hand. "kei, you didn't have to!"

"i wanted to," he shrugs. "you're not the worst person to do this with."

"oh," you sigh, and the smile on your face is real, so real, and so is the way his lips quirk up — a small movement, but it's there nonetheless. "you too, kei."

you turn to go put the flowers in a vase when he grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. his hand slots perfectly into yours, and he gives it an experimental squeeze. you squeeze back, and his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "i mean it, y/n."

"i know." it's hard to suppress the grin that's trying to take over your face as you say it. "me too."

handholding becomes normal after that, whether he's holding onto you in the midst of a crowd, or the two of you are at home and he's playing with your fingers lazily. sometimes kei's doing something on his phone — he uses it one-handed, even if it makes things more difficult or slows down his typing — and your hand is in his other one. your hands might lie in the space between the two of you, fingers tangled together, or maybe he's tracing shapes, letters, words onto your palm — whatever comes to mind. either way, you like it. you like him.

nowadays, he even kisses you(r cheek) goodbye before work, and if he's extra tired after, he finds himself melting into you. your presence itself comforts him, your existence a soothing hand over his brow. he hopes you don't mind where this is going.

spoiler alert: you don't.

you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee when your husband walks into the kitchen, rubbing at his bleary eyes. he looks like he's just gotten out of bed and come here. there's something different about him that you cannot quite place, so you ignore it, half-turning to face him. "morning."

"g'morning," kei responds. his morning voice is low, rough as he walks up to where you're situated between the counter and the kitchen island. his hand falls to your waist easily as he moves you out of his way to stand behind you. his chin rests on your shoulder as he stifles a yawn. "i want some too."

you hand him your cup and he hums gratefully after taking a sip. putting it back on the counter, he wraps his arms around your waist. his body curves over yours as he lets go of himself. the weight is comforting as it blankets you — maybe the two of you can stay like this forever. you relax into the back hug; he nudges your head with his. "can't find m'glasses."

oh. so that's what's missing.

"i'll help you find them," you suggest, not questioning his rather... clingy attitude today. it's been well over two years since the two of you got married, and while he has told you on multiple occasions that you can see whoever you want, your moral code is still not low enough to partake in what can basically be termed as infidelity. even if the marriage is arranged, and there are no feelings involved — that's a lie, you know by now that you've definitely fallen for your husband, and hard — you still don't want to do anything of that sort, which has lead to you becoming quite touch-starved over time. so when tsukishima started becoming more and more physically affectionate as of late, you didn't dare question it, savouring every moment instead. over time, it's gone from fleeting touches and hooking his pinkie around yours while he tries to look unbothered, to much more confident hugs and handholding. essentially, everything a couple can do together — except kissing.

that's not to say you don't want to kiss him; you really do. when you see him chewing on his bottom lip, lost in thought, you want to kiss him. when you see him lick his lips while playing volleyball at all the games that he's started inviting you to now, even from afar you want to kiss him. and when one of his old friends from high school texts him about something stupid and his lips turn up into a pout without him noticing, you definitely want to kiss him.

but you digress.

it takes a two-minute search to find them on the floor by the bed; the floor by your side of the bed no less. the covers are more messy than you remember, even though you're sure you fixed up your part of the bed. the blankets are messy, pillows squished. the only way it could possibly be this way is if someone had been rolling around and also hugging your pillows.

you and tsukki live alone. you don't have any pets. you didn't do anything, and tsukki definitely would not — would he?

"why're you even out of bed so early?" you ask him as he falls back onto the covers. "you don't have work today."

kei flushes — actually flushes, a pretty red hue spreading across his face as he thinks of an answer. "you... weren't there," he says carefully.

"i see." your reply is just as cautious as you test the waters; after all, this is the first time whatever the two of you have going on between you has emerged from where it was comfortingly held captive in words left unspoken. "well, i'm here now."

"good," he says, and there's the slightest hint of a smile playing about his lips as he pats the space beside him. "c'mere."

oh dear. you really are sleepy, aren't you? maybe you shouldn't have gotten up this early either.

this time, you're the one waking up alone in bed — fortunately, too, because extricating yourself from the ridiculous pile of limbs that the two of you become every night is one of the least favourite parts of your day.

you find him pacing around the living room, phone held up to his ear. "that's not fucking working, tadashi! she's my wife, i can't just tell her that!"

his eyes meet yours; you raise a brow. tsukishima looks like a deer caught in headlights, before he cuts the call and puts his phone down. "hi."

"hi," you respond. anxiety twists in your stomach, a dark creature from an inky pool that crawls out and takes all of you. "what can't you just tell me?"

"nothing." it comes out too fast, and he knows he's fucked up by saying it.

"o-oh." you take it brilliantly, in stride. "well, are you having an affair, or something?"

you try to play it off as a joke, but the fear and insecurity is pathetically apparent in your voice. "i don't mind if you are—"

"i'm not!"

"it's totally okay if you are! that was part of our agreement, right?"

kei groans. he's not sure whether he should be put off or attracted by the way you're hell-bent on lying your way through this. "i swear i'm not, y/n."

"then?"

he swallows harshly. oh well, now it never. "come sit?"

you comply quietly. if not an affair, then what? technically, it doesn't count as one, you have to admit. but still, what was all of that affection for, then? to soften the blow?

"i like you," he whispers. his hands twist around each other nervously, knuckles white. "i know this is weird because we're fucking married, but i do—"

"okay," you breathe. "okay, me too."

you've thought about kissing kei tsukishima way more than you should. and when his tongue slips out to wet his grinning lips and his hand brushes your hair away and splays out to hold your face in one fluid motion, you especially want to do that. so you do.

you like being in love with him. when the two of you are glued together, when he absentmindedly traces iloveyous onto your palm, when he draws hearts on your shoulders with his thumbs. when he becomes much more vocal about how much he loves you, exactly. now, you even get to hear him say it out loud.

"i love you," he says, kissing your pajama-clad shoulder. "my sunshine princess."

"fuck's that?" you ask him, laughing, but you like it all the same.

"you're that," he replies, and refuses to elaborate.

as it turns out, you like him being in love with you too.

been on that married couple shit lately thanks mom ig. my parents also used to call me somethinf along the lines of sunshine/little miss sunshine when i was a kid bc i was so happy. not so me now but ill take it:)

chest hurts when i inhale like stopppp.

anyways 2:30am so i'll sleep now. lot of care, take love.

also ive been stuck at 499 for hours now so what should i do for 500

tags !! @akaakeis + @smiithys (gen taglist open!!)

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.

Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy

a/n: kicking my feet fr

You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.

Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy. 

You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).

You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.

You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup. 

You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.

Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing. 

You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.

“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”

“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”

“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.

“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”

Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.

“Made a new friend?” You asked.

Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”

You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”

His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.

You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”

“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.

The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.

“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by. 

“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”

“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.

Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date. 

Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.

Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.

“You okay?” You questioned gently.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”

You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.

“Work?” You asked softly.

“Yeah… But I-”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”

Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”

Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”

“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”

“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.

It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily. 

“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.

“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.

“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.

“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.

“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness. 

Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.

“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly. 

Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”

Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully. 

Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”

Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-

“Is this seat taken?”

Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.

“Y/N? What are you-”

“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”

You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.

He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.

“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”

You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.

“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Uh, well,” he trailed off.

“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.

“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”

“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.

He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”

“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”

“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”

“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”

Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”

“Yeah… only if you want to?”

“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.

a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r

[boypied]

MISTER POPULAR.

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: a love story blooms when fiyero does a simple act of kindness by helping a fellow peer out.

requested by: me ;)

mentions: strangers to friends, flirting.

[part two] [part three] - coming soon

He was the most sought-after guy at Shiz University. He had practically all the girls all over him aswell as the majority of the guys, whether they would willingly admit it or not. Because of his popularity status and your lack of time, he never really noticed you or even looked your way...atleast that is what you thought. You hadn't said one word to him during your first semester at Shiz but you had completely fallen head over hills for him, and you were now too far gone. So what if he was completely full of himself and possibly a bit of a snob? You could tell it was all just an act, but somehow no one else could cause they weren't looking at him for who he was they were looking at him for how he presented himself.

You were running through the Shiz University halls one fateful day as you woke up late, completely sleeping through your personalised ozian alarm clock. You are speeding through until you trip on someone's banana peel skidding across the floor and all your textbooks going flying. You swiftly get up off your face, and you begin picking up all of your books, praying that no one had seen this horrifically embarrassing moment. In the corner of your eye, you see someone strut over and kneel down to give you their hand as you manage to gather all of your textbooks off the floor. You take the kind gentlemen hand and you look up to thank him until you turn a bright shade of red when your eyes meet with Fiyero's.

"F-Fiy..." You try to stutter out, but his name won't leave your mouth. He shakes your hand. "Fiyero Tigelaar," he says confidently as he takes some of the textbooks from your grasp, "you do know we don't have class today.. right?" He says softly as he begins walking back to the dorm area of Shiz. You immediately begin following next to him, practically lost for words that he would even look your way, let alone help you out. He stops outside your dorm room and turns around to face you, "keys?" He asks in a soft tone your eyes meet with his for a moment until you break the gaze and hand him the keys. "Wait... how did you know -" You begin talking for a moment before Fiyero cuts you off, walking inside your bedroom and dropping your books down on your desk, causing a big thud.

This was just the beginning for you both. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Fiyero began to capture little cute moments of you with his Shiz camera that he stole from the photography section of the Univeristy. He still hadn't caught on to the fact that you were in love with him. You tried not to focus on how you felt about him cause simply that this was just enough. His acknowledging you was everything you ever needed. He had a surprise for you that had your stomach in knots thinking about what it could entail. He had his thick veiny hands on your shoulders as he had you blindfolded walking through some sort of grassy area. You could tell by the feeling of the tall grass against your legs.

The feeling of the grass against your legs stopped as you step forward once more, "are you ready" he whispers in your ear feeling his hot breath against your ear made your body shudder beneath his touch, he doesn't understand what he does to you. "I-Im ready," you stutter out nervously as Fiyero practically pulls you down onto some sort of velvety blanket. Light blesses your eyes as he unties the blindfold once it's finally dropped off your face. The first thing to grace your sight is Fiyero..his beautiful blue orbs, the ones that captured you originally were staring right into yours. A small smile on his face as he pulled away from your face, revealing a picnic he had set up for you, away from Shiz University.

Your eyes fill up with tears, and Fiyero immediately leans over the food to get closer to comfort you, "d-did I do something wrong?" He says in a worried tone, but you just laugh through your tears, shaking your head. "No! Not at all, just... no one has ever made me feel like this before." You stutter out as Fiyero's smile brightens you up again as he gently rubs your shoulder sitting down properly again. "I like this spot...it's so quiet and away," Fiyero says in a soft tone as he takes a strawberry and bites it. He looks out into the beautiful corn field ahead of us seeing the Scarecrow that watches over the crops. He brings the half eaten strawberry to your lips. "Take a bite," he says in a soft, quiet tone.

You lean forward slightly, taking a bite out of the same strawberry he has been eating, the mixture of the strawberry with a small portion of his spit was to die for. This is the closest you'll get to kissing him is what ran through your mind, the closest you'll get to tasting him. You swallow the strawberry after savouring the flavour for a strange amount of time but not enough for it to cause Fiyero to become concerned. He watches the way your face fills with pleasure as you swallow the strawberry. He softly nibbles his lip, watching you. You both ate like kings and packed up everything, "sad this is over," you say to him as you turn to face Fiyero. He turns his head slightly to look down, "Don't worry... who says I'm not planning another picnic as we speak." He says as confidence practically drips off him.

You begin walking through the tall, tall grass, feeling it brush against you both. The sun shines on you both perfectly as you stop to face it, this is the moments that are in all those romantic books you read. Golden hour covering your faces, amongst nature and a gentle breeze blowing your hair perfectly. You both lock eyes and Fiyero subconsciously puts his picnic basket on the floor without breaking the eye contact, the tension between you both would be able to be cut with a knife. Fiyero's hands connect to your cheeks as his thumb rubs your smooth supple skin he leans down slightly and connects your lips together.

The world was spinning, all the stars has aligned. You had never felt his fire inside of you before as Fiyero's lips connected to yours, you get up on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck pulling his lips closer to yours. Your bodies pressing against one another, the kiss passionate and beautiful. Fiyero pulls away softly to meet your gaze as a strip of spit still connects your lips, a faint blush crosses over both your cheeks. "Fiyero..." You mumble out in a soft tone as you take his hands, a panic stretches visibly across his face as he pulls away "uh-" is all he can mutter out "sorry I've got to go!" He blurts out in a panic as he scoops up his basket and runs off through the tall grass back to Shiz University.

You eyes follow him as he runs off in a panic, the sun begins to set and the grass darkens as you stand there still frozen in shock about the whole thing. You had the best and first kiss of your life and then Fiyero panicked and ran off, you slowly walk back to Shiz, slumped over and shy you walk back to your dorm room to find that your door is already unlocked and open, your eyes widen as you slowly walk inside. "F-Fiyero?!" You say in shock as he sits there on your bed with tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry!" He repeats himself over and over again between sobs as he stands up to walk over to you, you pull him into your warm embrace "shh...it's okay" you whisper to him aswell as sweet nothings to try and calm him down.

Fiyero snuggles his face against your neck, leaning down to make sure he can. His tear soaked face soaked your neck, you slowly manage to sit you both down on the bed where you comfort him and he tells you why he ran off. "I wasn't expecting us to kiss... I didn't even know I liked- ... I can't say it" he says nervously and embarrassed, you softly smile at him as you take in what he's just said as you gently caress his arm, your hand gently wipes a tear from his cheek. "You don't need to label yourself, just...like who you like" you whisper softly to him as his eyes lighten up slightly and his sniffles quiet down. His hand gently caresses your cheek once again like when you were both in the tall grass, "y/n..." He says in a quiet voice "I...like you" he mumbles out softly as his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

"I've liked you for a while now Fiyero" you openly confess to him as he leans in and gently pecks his lips against yours, both pulling away and smiling softly at eachother. Fiyero pulls you into his warm embrace as he gently caresses your cheek and then running his hand through your hair. "Can we stay like this?" You say softly to him as your face is in his chest as he lays back against your bed, "yes...I'd like that" he say to you as he closes his eyes and enjoys knowing that you there for him, enjoying your warmth, enjoying your presence.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Glass City

Part Four of A Gilded Cage ~2k Words

You can't remember the last time you cried like this. The plush leather muffles your sobs, but it does nothing to loosen the tightness in your throat, to offer any relief from the reality of your situation.

You had been blind, entranced by the fact that Jason Todd was alive and filling your days with distractions that you had missed one simple truth. Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and you know nothing about what that's turned him into.

The cuff around your ankle weighs heavy, a cold, unyielding reminder to the fact that you're trapped. You've been trapped since he snatched you to that forsaken penthouse. It draws more tears from your eyes until you have none left to cry, leaving you a shaky, gasping mess of heartbreak and terror.

It's that very fear, the urge to get away, that drives you to mechanically push yourself up. Sobbing has left you feeling drained.

Your head hurts, every breath is a battle, and you have half a mind to blow your nose on the stupid throw pillow lying haphazardly on the couch. It's with shaky hands that you examine the golden chain securing you to the leg of the couch.

Despite its shiny, lavish appearance, it's well made. No amount of tugging seems to bend the metal, and the cuff latched around your ankle seems equally as sturdy. It's frustrating, and your fear starts to morph into anger with every pull of the chain.

It's humiliating. You doubt you could escape his base even if you had the opportunity to try, and the chain? It just feels like a twisted claim over you.

You rub hands down your face and towards your throat, exhaustion and fury warring in your mind as you try to calm yourself. The motion causes your nails to catch on the diamond choker. The collar.

Another way he tried to keep you. Disgust wells in your throat. How did it get this far? Where did you start to lose yourself? Start to lose him?

It's thoughtless, when you curl your fingers around the piece of jewelry and rip it from your throat, throwing it across the room and as far away from you as possible. You hope it's broken. Hope something in this room is more shattered than you.

You don't react to the knock on the door, but you do lift your head when it opens. There's a hiss, and you watch Bean dig his claws into Mack's arm before jumping to the ground and rushing to you.

Bean purrs as soon as he starts to nuzzle your ankles, and you almost want to cry all over again when you pick him up to clutch him to your chest.

"The boss wanted to make sure you got him," Mack grumbles, seemingly more interested in the diamonds scattered on the floor than the redness in your eyes.

"Where is he," You bite out, or try to bite out. Crying has made your voice raw and scratchy, but even if it hadn't, you doubt it would have threatened Mack anyway.

"Busy," he answers bluntly, "Need anything else?"

You stare him down sharply, Mack might not be your friend, but he has been guarding you for as long as you've been under Jason's thumb. If anything, he should at least show you some sympathy.

"The key for this," You huff out, lifting your leg to show off the chain, "And a phone." Bean meows, and you take it as agreement as you try to hide your jittery nerves. Mack finally meets your gaze, jaw clenching and unclenching as he studies your defiant gaze.

"I don't have the key," he says eventually, "and giving you a phone is asking for trouble."

You lift your chin, exuding confidence over the militia man you don't necessarily feel, "Aren't you supposed to give me what I want?"

Mack exhales softly, slowly, and you have a feeling being assigned to babysit you is not how he imagined taking over Gotham would be. He shoves his hand into his pocket, and tugs out what's clearly a cheap burner phone. He tosses it to you, doesn't even blink when you barely manage to catch it with one hand.

"Two minutes," he warns you as he steps out the door and nods towards the chain, "Just long enough for me to find something to pick that lock with, understand?"

You breathe out a thank you when he's already out the door. Huh. Maybe Mack does like you more than you thought. You file that away for later, putting Bean down in your lap as you carefully type out a number you've had memorized since the day Jason disappeared.

Nine digits. Your last lifeline. The clock tower. Babs.

The phone rings. And rings. You've nearly given up hope, your breathing getting shallower, more panicked, when the line finally connects.

"Oracle– don't hang up– please–" You start. You don't know what to say, you don't even know where you are, but she'll know what to do. She has to.

But it's not Oracle's familiar voice that comes over the phone. No. It's the sound of your name that cuts you off, said through the low, robotic modulator that lives in your dreams.

It makes your blood go cold. It's impossible. You dialed the right number– "How–" You choke out, defeat settling on your shoulders.

The Arkham Knight laughs, an easy, bored sound, "Oracle and I are having a reunion, sweet thing. I would have brought you if I thought you'd play nice."

"I wanna talk to her," you stumble out, eyes darting to Bean as he cuddles into your stomach, seemingly picking up on your anxiety.

"She's busy," he tells you lazily, and you hear the sound of something falling over in the background of the call, "Anything else?"

"I want to go outside–" You try instead, pulling whatever you can think of to hold his attention, to try and give Babs a chance. (If she's even still alive)

He hums like he has all the time in the world to draw the call out, "Mhm, now's a bad time to be out, doll. But you can walk around the base. Sound fair?"

"The chain," You force yourself to choke out instead, "I want it off. I can't– walk if it's on." Bean meows and licks your fingers, it almost steadies the beat of your heart.

He falls quiet for a moment, and the modulator sounds in your ear like he's letting out a sigh. "I shouldn't have– I wasn't trying to scare you earlier. You just needed to be safe."

Another crash sounds in the back of the call. "Someone will take it off," he says your name again, voice no longer the shadow of a laugh, "I need to go. Don't call this number again."

The line goes silent, and you realize you've accomplished nothing at all. Jason's either killed or kidnapped Barabra, and you're no closer to escaping than before.

It's almost terrifying. Jason– The Arkham Knight– is capable of winning whatever war he's waging. He is winning the battles he's picked. And you don't know where that'll leave Gotham, where it'll leave you.

You're still staring blankly at the phone when Mack returns. Neither of you says anything as he crouches at your side and works on the cuff around your ankle. It doesn't take long, but when the golden metal hits the ground, you don't feel any lighter. Jason can win, has planned to win, and everyone will suffer for it.

Mack straightens himself out, and carefully takes the phone from your hand, "C'mon. I'll give you the tour."

"Why," You ask quietly, and lift Bean to cuddle him close to your chest, "Why are you bothering?"

Mack shrugs like it's obvious, "It's part of the job." He doesn't elaborate, and you don't ask for the truth, as you push yourself to your feet to follow him out the door.

Mack leads you down a hall, and when it opens up to what seems to be a hanger, you're left in awe. Now that you're not lost in your own panic, you can see just how impressive the base is. Rows of drones, trucks and tanks, groups of soldiers, and helicopters take up the massive space.

It makes it clear how much of an operation this is, how much Jason has prepared for this night. It nearly takes your breath away. How can anyone go up against him? How could the city survive this? How could you even dream of getting away?

A couple of the men look your way, but they're quick to avert their gaze when Mack levels them with a look. Bean seems just as enthralled with the scenery, and he crawls his way up your arm to sit on your shoulder.

You settle on the sight of crates and crates of weapons, "Can I get a closer look?"

"At the guns," Mack asks, tilting his head at you. He gives you a look like he's picking apart your entire plan when you nod. (Which you find funny, because you don't exactly have a plan yet.)

"There's a range we can use," he relents, leading you away from the hanger and deeper into the base. You're not sure if he's doing this because he feels bad for you, or if you really can get away with whatever you want. But it's hardly the time to complain about his easy compliance.

The range he takes you to is nice. At least you think it is, it's not exactly your area of expertise. There's a skylight, some targets, and more weapons than you've ever seen in one place. You feel like maybe grenades shouldn't be among the choices, but Mack doesn't say anything as you look over each option.

Bean nuzzles your ear as you trace your fingers over what looks like a rocket launcher. You're scrambling a little. This could be your only chance to get away, and you don't have a clue what to do.

Grab a gun and threaten your way out with a kitten on your shoulder? Shoot out a window and hope for the best when you try to run? Try and knock out Mack and pray no one notices you when you try to sneak out?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice the shadow that falls over the skylight. But you do notice when glass shatters down a few feet from where you're standing. And you definitely notice Nightwing dropping down to hit Mack in the back of the head.

Nightwing smiles at you, a pleased, proud sort of thing, and you stumble towards him like he's your last lifeline.

"Orcale is–" You begin, needing to share what The Arkham Knight has done, even if you aren't sure what's happened.

Nightwings smile falls, and he nods, outstretching his hand to you, "I know. Let's get you out of here."

"You know," you ask, voice going weak as you tuck Bean against your chest. It makes sense that he does, but your nerves feel like they're on fire, and you half expect Jason to appear from nowhere to drag you back to that chain.

Nightwing nods, voice soothing, "I know," he tells you, carefully pulling you to his side to shoot a grappling hook through the broken skylight.

Your feet hit the rooftop, but even still, it feels like you're flying. The air is cold, and Gotham is silent and screaming all at once. But you're free.

There's no Jason charging at you, no glittering collar around your neck. Just you, Bean, and the vigilante leading you towards safety.

"Where are we going," You breathe out, disbelief clear in your voice.

"There's– somewhere safe," he murmurs, guiding you through the shadows, "Robin's going to look after you."

"Oh," You mumble, following him step for step until he's helping you onto a motorcycle.

Helicopter blades sound in the air, as you hook your arms around Nightwings back. There's gunshots somewhere in the distance and muffled shouts lost to the wind.

You don't look back, you don't dare to, but it doesn't stop the chills that run down your spine as the bikes engine rev. It doesn't stop the feeling that if you did look back, you'd see The Arkham Knight and his heavy gaze digging into your soul.

[littlelamy]

drew starkey x victoria’ssecret!model!reader

you’d been waiting all week for this delivery. victoria’s secret had sent out the official box for your tiktok promo, the angel wings and lingerie, and you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about it.

being part of the victoria’s secret family was still a surreal feeling, even after a few shows and campaigns. the wings—they always made you feel like you were stepping into a different world, like some ethereal being just floating through life.

the oversized box had been sitting on the entryway table for a few hours now, untouched. you were waiting for the right moment to open it, savoring the anticipation. drew was supposed to come over later, and part of you wanted to share the moment with him. the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you in anything remotely sexy? yeah, you were definitely looking forward to that.

when the door clicks open and drew walks in, his eyes find the box immediately, a smirk spreading across his lips. “finally came, huh?” he teases, dropping his keys on the counter before making his way over to you. he’s in one of those casual moods, still dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans, but there’s this glint in his eye—one that makes you bite back a smile.

“you want to see what’s inside?” you ask, brushing past him on your way to the box, fingers trailing lightly across his arm as you go.

“you know i do,” he murmurs, following close behind, his hand gently resting on your waist.

you carefully lift the lid, pulling out the tissue paper, and there it is—the lingerie, delicate lace, satin ribbons, and soft mesh in a soft blush color. the angel wings are folded beneath the fabric, shimmering lightly under the living room light, and the sight of them makes your heart skip a beat.

“holy shit,” drew whispers, his hand now gripping your waist a little tighter. his eyes are glued to the set, his breathing just a touch heavier than before.

“like it?” you tease, pulling the lingerie out of the box and holding it up to your body, the sheer material barely covering anything.

he licks his lips, his gaze dark and heavy. “put it on.”

there’s something in his voice that makes your stomach flip, a hunger that you know all too well.

you nod, taking the lingerie and wings into the bedroom. your hands are trembling just slightly as you slip into the delicate fabric, the lace cool against your skin. it fits like a second skin, hugging your curves in all the right places. the wings, once you attach them, feel light and ethereal on your shoulders, giving you that iconic angel look.

taking a deep breath, you step out of the bedroom, and the moment drew lays eyes on you, you feel the intensity of his gaze wash over you.

his eyes roam over your body, taking in every inch of you from the lace that barely covers your breasts to the delicate ribbons that rest on your hips. he leans back against the couch, his eyes darkening as they lock onto yours.

“you look unreal,” he breathes, his voice low and rough, like it’s taking everything in him to hold himself back.

you smile, feeling a surge of confidence under his gaze. “thanks, babe. i’m supposed to film a tiktok for them in this.”

“forget tiktok for a second,” he says, his voice deeper now, more demanding. “walk for me.”

you blink, caught off guard by the request. “walk for you?”

“yeah,” he nods, sitting up straighter, his eyes never leaving you. “like you’re on the runway. i want to see you.”

there’s a playful smile on your lips as you step back, giving yourself some room. his eyes track your every move, the air in the room growing heavier with tension.

you start walking, slow and deliberate, your hips swaying just like they would on the runway. every step feels charged, every movement precise. his eyes burn into you, watching the way the lingerie clings to your body, the way the wings catch the light with each turn.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, shifting slightly on the couch. “come here.”

you obey, walking toward him, but the moment you’re close enough, his hands are on you, pulling you down onto his lap. his fingers grip your hips tightly as he looks up at you, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he growls, his hands slipping under the lace of the lingerie, fingers teasing the bare skin of your thighs.

you can’t help but smile, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “oh, i think i have some idea.”

he kisses you then, hard and demanding, his hands roaming over your body like he can’t get enough. his fingers slip under the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down your shoulders as his mouth moves to your neck, kissing and biting his way down.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “i can’t believe you’re mine.”

“i’m all yours,” you whisper back, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging gently as his lips find your collarbone.

he groans at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you down harder against him. you can feel how hard he is through his jeans, the pressure between your legs already building with every movement.

“take this off,” he demands, his fingers tugging at the delicate lace of your lingerie.

you comply, reaching behind to unclasp it, letting the fabric fall away, leaving you completely bare except for the wings still attached to your back.

drew pulls back slightly to take you in, his eyes dark and filled with raw desire. “you look like a fucking angel,” he whispers, his voice rough and filled with awe.

before you can respond, he’s pulling you closer, his lips crashing against yours again as his hands roam over every inch of your exposed skin. his touch is possessive, like he’s claiming you, marking you as his.

you gasp as his hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples until they’re hard and sensitive. his lips follow, kissing and sucking at the soft skin, drawing moans from your lips that only seem to spur him on more.

“drew, please,” you whisper, your hips grinding against him, desperate for more.

he groans, his hands moving to undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself. he’s hard and ready, and the sight of him makes your mouth water.

“come here,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips as he positions you over him.

you don’t need any more encouragement. you sink down onto him slowly, both of you groaning at the sensation. he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, and you have to take a moment to catch your breath.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to move.

you start riding him slowly, your hands on his shoulders as you find a rhythm, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. the pleasure builds quickly, the friction between your bodies driving you both closer to the edge with each movement.

drew’s hands roam over your body, one hand slipping between your legs to tease your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his hips bucking up into you, making you gasp.

“drew, i’m so close,” you pant, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him harder, faster, chasing your release.

“come for me, baby,” he growls, his voice rough and demanding. “let go for me.”

that’s all it takes. the coil of pleasure snaps inside you, and you come undone with a cry, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you. drew’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts up into you, his own release following soon after.

you collapse against him, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies still tangled together as the aftershocks of your orgasms pulse through you.

drew presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you as you both come down from the high.

“you’re gonna kill me one day,” he murmurs, his voice still breathless but filled with affection.

you smile, nuzzling into his neck. “maybe. but at least you’ll die happy.”

he chuckles, his hands running up and down your back, gently tracing the outline of the wings still attached to you.

“i can’t believe i get to keep you,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of awe.

you lift your head to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the love and admiration you see in his eyes. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whisper back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“good,” he murmurs, pulling you closer. “because i’m never letting you go.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out Pt. 2

Johnny drags you inside the station, ignoring the confused looks he gets from the other men inside. He walks you over to the oldest of them, a man with a beard sporting a hat, and introduces you. 

“This is oor captain, Price,” Johnny says, his arm still over your shoulder. “Cap, bonnie ‘ere lost their keys doon th’ drain. Can we gi’ them a hand?”

“I’m sure Gary could get to them,” Price says, offering a warm smile and his hand to shake, which you do. “You rest here mux.” He turned to the couch where a man with dark, curly hair sat. “Kyle, keep our guest company, we’ll be back.” He pats Johnny on the shoulder and the two leave to find Gary and retrieve your keys. 

Kyle stands from the couch and walks over. He’s handsome, pretty you think. He definitely knows it too as he catches you staring, giving you a smile. “Hungry?” he asks.

---

Simon emerged from the showers, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his damp towel slung over his broad shoulders as his blond hair was still dripping wet. The station house was quiet. Johnny must still be out walking Riley. 

A quiet laugh broke that silence though. One that made his stony heart skip a beat. Simon made his way towards the common area, finding the one thing he never expected. You. 

Kyle was sitting with one arm on the couch behind you, the other on his leg. You hadn’t noticed Simon yet, too engrossed in Kyle’s story about the time Riley climbed into the open window of a cop car to get into a bag of treats the officer had hidden under his seat.

“So Riley was hanging halfway out this cop’s car, an’ Johnny’s trying to get him out before the cop gets back,” Kyle said. “Turns out, the cop had a bag of treats in the car. Found out when Simon called Riley over. Rascal had the bag hanging out his mouth.” 

The sound of your laugh makes Simon’s heart race and he finds himself jealous of the way your fingers gently scratched behind Riley’s ear as the dog’s head lays in your lap. 

Simon can’t help but stare. He’d always known how pretty you were, but seeing you here in the station.. He only wished he was the one you were sitting with. That he was the one making you laugh so easily. 

“Bonnie! We got yer keys!” Johnny calls, coming up behind Simon. 

Your head whips around, catching a glimpse of Simon as he turns on his heels and retreats deeper into the station. 

---

In his room, Simon’s heart pounds in his chest. He runs a large hand through his blond hair, his mind racing. All he’d wanted these past few months was to know you better, though he’d never been able to bring himself to speak more than a few words to you. Never had he thought he’d see you in the firehouse, much less cozied up on their couch. What were you even doing here? 

A knock on his door brought his answer. Simon quickly pulled on his privacy mask, some part of him hoping it was you. Instead he saw Johnny. 

“Aye, Si, did ye see we git a guest?” Johnny asked with that cheeky grin of his. Ah. That was it. Johnny brought you here. 

“I saw..” Simon said, keeping his voice measured despite his urge to to tear Johnny in half for getting up the nerve to talk to you before he could. 

“Ye never told me tha’ wee thing wis so cuit,” Johnny pressed. “S’already git Kyle wrapped ‘round their wee finger.”

Simon’s dark eyes sharpened. Johnny always knew just how to get under his thick skin. 

“Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye,” Johnny continued. “Looked a might fash when ye stormed off.”

“Didn’t ‘ave m’ mask,” Simon muttered. “Wasn’t expecting them..”

“Aye, ha t’ git Gary t’ rescue their keys,” Johnny explained. His blue eyes briefly looked Simon up and down. “Y’should say ‘ello. Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye.”

Johnny was dense but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Simon could get anyone he wanted, he had the looks to make just about anyone, including Johnny himself, melt. If only Simon had the confidence to actually talk to anyone. 

When Simon didn’t budge, Johnny decided to push further. “Aye wis think’n, LT,” he started. “I might ask ‘em oot fer coffee.” Johnny shrugged as he watched Simon tense. 

Simon shoved past Johnny, making his way to the common area again. Leaving Johnny grinning at his door.

---

“Coffee.”

Simon’s gruff voice startles you. You hadn’t seen him enter the room, much less hear him walk up behind where you were sitting on the couch. 

You blink those pretty eyes up at him. “What?”

“With me.” He doesn’t seem to be asking by his tone, but his eyes are almost pleading. 

“Uh.. sure,” you say, unable to keep the smile from your lips. 

The tension in Simon’s shoulders melted away. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

[ange1heavensent]

Do I Make You Nervous, Ellie?

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Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Content Warning: reader has a husband, palpable tension, eye fucking, fic inspired by the movie Bound (1996)

w/c ≈ 1200

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The ding of the elevator rang through the empty hall. Your husband was talking your ear off about some sort of work drama as the two of you stepped through the metallic doors. You leaned softly against the wall, eyes flicking to your husband as he pressed the elevator button to your floor. It was the first night that the two of you would spend in your new apartment. The place was supposed to be a new start for the two of you. You tried to let the move settle into your bones, but the newness felt off. Something was missing, something you hadn’t yet put your finger on. Your thoughts were interrupted, as the doors were about to shut, someone from further down the hall yelled out.

“Hold the doors!”

Your husband pressed the button, which opened the elevator doors yet again and in walks a figure that immediately draws your attention. She’s dressed in  a worn leather jacket slung over a plain white t-shirt that clings to her lean, muscular frame. Her hands are shoved into the pockets of dark jeans, and there's a slight smudge of paint on her forearm, peeking from beneath the rolled-up sleeve. She has that effortless kind of confidence, the kind that demands attention without ever asking for it.

Your husband gives her a nod, polite but indifferent. You, on the other hand, feel a sharp jolt in your chest as you lock eyes with her. Those deep green eyes, flecked with just enough softness to draw you in, but sharp enough to keep you on your toes. She glances at you, barely a second, but the tension is undeniable.

Ellie nods back in acknowledgment as she walks past your husband, before she leans back against the elevator wall beside you and then shifts her gaze towards you. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a smirk tugging at her lips, and damn if it didn’t make your stomach flip. The elevator ride was short, but every second of it felt like an eternity under her sharp gaze. When the doors opened to your floor, she stepped out first, with a nod in your direction, her eyes lingering on yours just long enough to make your pulse race again.

You and your husband stepped out after, following her down the hallway lined with apartment doors. Then she stopped in front of one, keys jingling as she opened the door. You walked past, moving further down the hallway, but as you passed her you locked eyes once again. This time you sent her a wink, before she stepped inside. 

- 

Days pass. Your routine is simple, the mundane tasks of domestic life, your husband working long hours, leaving you alone in the apartment. But your thoughts keep drifting to her - the mysterious woman down the hall, who’s seemingly renovating one of the units in the building.

It starts innocently enough. You see her in the hallway a few times, catching fleeting glances that last a little too long to be accidental. Her presence is always lingering, her confidence radiating even when she’s just minding her own business with a toolbox in hand. There’s something so intoxicating about the way she carries herself, so sure of who she is, unbothered by the world around her.

Then, an “accident” occurs. You’re standing in front of the kitchen sink, washing dishes and  absentmindedly fiddling with your engagement ring when it slips from your finger. It bounces off the edge of the sink, twirls once in the air, and falls down the drain with a soft, metallic clink. You bite your lip, staring down at the sink for a moment longer than necessary. Your husband won’t be home for hours. You could call the building maintenance, but where’s the fun in that?

Your mind immediately jumps to her.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of her door, heart racing beneath your chest. You knock twice, listening to the echo in the empty hallway before the door swings open. Ellie leans against the doorframe, wiping her hands on a rag. She raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes as she takes you in.

"Need something?" she asks, her voice low and smooth, the kind that sends a wave of heat straight through you. You swallowed, straightening your posture, before calmly answering, “Yes, I do. I dropped my ring down the sink. Thought maybe you could help me out?” You raised an eyebrow, never faltering eye contact. 

Ellie’s smirk deepened as she studied you for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between you. You could feel her eyes on you, dragging slowly from your lips and down your neck. She pushed off the doorframe and stepped forward, closing the distance between you until she was standing just inches away.

“Sure,” she said, her voice low, almost teasing. “I can help you with that.” She wipes her hands one last time before tossing the rag aside and grabbing a small toolbox by the door. "Lead the way."

-

Back in your apartment, Ellie kneels in front of the sink, sleeves pushed up as she unscrews the pipe beneath. You stand nearby, watching her every move, trying to distract yourself from the growing tension in the room. The way her hands move so confidently, so sure, it’s impossible not to admire her. She glances up at you, catching you staring, she quickly looks away, heat rising on her cheeks.

"Got it," Ellie announced, holding up your ring between her fingers. She stood up, handing it back to you with a playful grin. "Try to be more careful next time." You took the ring, but your eyes never left hers. "Thank you," you murmured softly.

She didn’t step back. Neither did you.

Her gaze dropped to your lips and your stomach fluttered. The intensity of the moment was almost too much, but you didn’t pull away. You just stood there, the air between you thick with desire. Ellie’s hand brushed against yours, her fingertips ghosting over your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. It was just a touch, barely there, but it was enough to make you ache. You parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t know what to say. So you just stood there, staring at each other, until the apartment door unlocked and your husband announced that he was home, shattering the moment.

Ellie stepped back, her hand dropping to her side as her gaze flickered away. "I should go," she said, her voice still low and teasing. “Thanks for the help…” you said, urging her to say her name. “Ellie” she quickly replied as she awkwardly reached her hand out. You shook it, “Y/n.” As if on cue, your husband stepped into the kitchen.

With a final nod, Ellie walked back towards the door, sending a nod of acknowledgment towards your husband. But before she was out of sight she glanced over her shoulder “If you need anything else…” she trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the air.

And then she was gone.

The weight of the ring on your finger felt a little heavier that night.

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Click here for part 2 - with some smut ;)

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[hoshifighting]

Could you do svt’s reaction on forgetting their anniversary with the reader?

seungcheol’d been so wrapped up in schedules, meetings, and everything else on his plate that the date completely slipped his mind. the moment it sinks in, his stomach drops. he’s sitting at home, scrolling through his phone when he sees the reminder forgotten on his past notifications—anniversary dinner tonight. “shit, shit, shit.” he stands up abruptly, knocking his chair over as he scrambles to grab his keys. you’d been waiting, and the thought of you sitting there alone eats him alive. when he finally sees you, there’s no smile, just regret. “baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” his voice cracks. seungcheol is a person for whom responsibility is a priority. and the feeling that he failed a commitment and with you. makes him want to cry. “i don’t know what happened, but i swear i’ll make it up to you.”

jeonghan? oh, he knew it was coming. he just thought he had more time. his confidence gets the best of him. but when you bring it up, the look on your face says everything. and it’s like his brain short-circuits. “oh, t-the date,” he mutters under his breath, realizing that he’s been too laid-back about it. he tries to play it off, but the second he sees how hurt you are, he internally crumbles. “i really fucked up, didnt I baby?” he’d spend the rest of the day trying to fix it, probably spoiling you with something over-the-top, even though you’re still a little pissed.

joshua forgot because he was so caught up in helping his family with something important. when he checks the time and realizes what day it is, he freezes. “no, no, no.” he whispers to himself, heart sinking. his first instinct is to call you, but when you pick up, your tone is cold. “josh, where are you?” your voice is sharp, and he can’t even find the words to apologize. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to. i—” he stumbles over his words, feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world. “i’ll make it right, i swear. please, just... let me make it right. im heading to the restaurant baby, just a sec, please”

junhui’s mind was on a completely different planet—he’d been immersed in practicing something new for you, wanting to surprise you, that he completely blanked on the actual anniversary. when it hits him, he laughs out of sheer disbelief at himself. “holy shit, i’m a dumbass.” he’s halfway through a text to you before deleting it, knowing a message wouldn’t be enough. he’s at your door within minutes, out of breath and a little frantic. “i know i’m late. i’m so fucking sorry. i... i was planning something for us, but i screwed up. can we start over?”

soonyoung’s the type to get so wrapped up in everything else that he loses track of days entirely. when it sinks in, it’s mid-dance practice, and he stops dead in his tracks. the date flashing in his brain like a neon sign. “no way,” he mutters, practically throwing his phone down as he rushes to text you. “please tell me you’re still there. please, please.” the guilt settles in hard when he realizes you’d probably already left. he wants to apologize in person, but he’s afraid of what he’ll see in your eyes. “i’ll do anything to fix this. just... just don’t hate me.”

wonwoo’s lost track of time probably because of a gaming session that went on way too long. he’s always been a little absent-minded, and this time it cost him. he doesn’t realize it until late at night when he’s scrolling through his phone, and your messages pop-up nonstop. he freezes, eyes glued to the screen. “fuck, my babe.” he knows it’s bad. wonwoo’s never been good with words, so when he tries to apologize, it’s a little awkward, but sincere. “i really didn’t mean to forget… i’ve just been all over the place.” he’ll make it up to you in quiet, meaningful ways—extra touches, thoughtful gestures.

woozi was in the studio, headphones on, lost in the music, lost in a project, an album, something like this. when the reminder popped up on his phone—the one he had set just because he knew he must NOT forget, he stared at it in disbelief. “no. fucking. way.” he pulls off the headphones, heart racing, standing up from his chair. he didn’t forget on purpose, but he knows that’s not going to make you feel better. he is already imagining how disappointed you’ll be. he hates that he’s made you cry without even being there to see it. without thinking, he grabs his things and rushes out, dialing your number.

minghao is probably halfway through some deep meditation or art project when he finally thinks of it. the date pops into his mind, and he freezes, the calm shattered in an instant. thrown off balance his usual balance. he hates that he let this happen, especially when he’s always so in tune with your emotions and your relationship. minghao will come to you with all sincerity, not trying to make excuses, just wanting to fix it. “i didn’t mean to forget… you know that right? you know how much I love you.” after the restaurant's booking was fucked up, he brings u to another expensive restaurant, trying to cheer you up with a sad smile.

mingyu’s the type to feel absolutely awful about it. he’s so used to being thoughtful and over-the-top with his affection, so when he forgets the anniversary, it feels like the ultimate failure to him. “oh my god, no way,” he groans, running his hands through his hair. he’d feel guilty as hell, probably already planning some over-the-top way to make it up to you before you even bring it up. he rushes to call you, but it goes straight to voicemail. “baby, please call me back. i’ll make this right, i swear.” the thought of you waiting for him with disappointment in your eyes kills him.

seokmin probably gets caught up in meetings, back-to-back phone calls, just grinding through work like he always does. the moment he sees the date on his calendar on the table, marked with a red heart, it hits him like a fucking truck. he’s frustrated with himself, pacing around the room, trying to figure out how to make it up to you. he doesn’t waste time; the guilt’s already settling in. you mean too much to him to leave it like this, so he’s quick to call you “baby im on my way home, wait for me—shit know i've made you wait a lot already, but just give me some minutes, in on the central bridge”

seungkwan was busy with work, thinking about a million other things when he realizes he forgot your anniversary. for a second, he just stands there, processing. “i’m the worst,” he mutters to himself, panic quickly setting in. he dials your number, but when you don’t pick up, the guilt is agonizing. he would probably appear on your door with everything he can, chocolate, plushies, bouquets of flowers, but all of it, with his teary eyes in the middle.

vernon is the type to lose track of time when he’s deep into something. so when he realizes the date, his heart sinks. its already night when he notices that he had sent you “good morning” and not even mentioning the anniversary. he feels bad, but he doesn’t know how to handle it right away. “let’s do something special today, okay?” he promises as he leaves the subway station.

chan feels like absolute shit the moment he realizes. he’s been so caught up in trying to prove himself, so focused on rehearsals, working hard, pushing himself, that he lost track of what day it is. “fuck, i can’t believe i forgot,” he mutters under his breath, hands clenched into fists. he hates that he let you down, and when he comes to you he gives all of himself. his face scrunched up everytime you hang up his calls, but you cant ignore the door since he lives with you. he would just hug you, even though you don't recriprocate, he does it.

[daisynik7]

test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought. 

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 

Fuck the plan. 

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

[repulsiveliquidation]

Special Instructions || María León & Ingrid Engen

warnings : smut, body writing, cunnilingus, strap-on, double-ended dildos, biting, choking, anal, and our dear friend, double penetration.

summary : you've left some detailed instructions on your person for your lovers to find and follow.

“Brand new sharpies…check,” you mutter, “more lube…check.” 

Mapi and Ingrid were at training and it was beginning to be a bore to stay in the house all alone. You’d been doom scrolling on X when you stumbled upon some interesting content. 

Already very thoroughly satisfied in the bedroom, you were eager to bring in more activities that you were certain the girls would enjoy wholeheartedly. 

Picking up a coffee and pastries for snacks, you head home and happily bring your new toys into the house. Dumping the food on the counter and ripping the sharpies open, you take one and practically run into the bedroom to steal a shirt from Mapi.

Your best lingerie was air-drying in the bathroom while you took a warm shower to clean up. You stood in front of the mirror stark naked, marker in hand. You shook a little, a light blush growing on your cheeks. 

“What do I write?” you wonder to yourself, grabbing your phone off the counter to check your bookmarks. This was going to be fun. 

Ingrid scolds Mapi as they walk into the house, the jingle of their keys sends a shiver down your spine. You’re all set by the bedroom door, heart swelling with love as you hear the two of them bicker. 

“Ingrid, you have to be diabolical to enjoy mint chocolate chip ice-cream when there are so many other flavors to enjoy?”

“Mapi, if I cared, I would argue. But I don’t. Especially when you’re the only adult in the world who likes cherry.” 

“Excuse me, don’t you dare- what do we have here?” 

You’re sitting on your knees, hands neatly folded in your lap and a hilariously big t-shirt falling off your shoulders. They stand at the door, Mapi’s eyes looking slightly concerned while, to your surprise, Ingrid’s look almost predatory. She slowly circles you, eyes trying to undress you. Mapi kneels before you, tilting your head up to look at her. You take your shirt off and they both audibly gasp, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“What’s this amor?” Mapi asks, finger touching the black ink that glowed on your milky skin.

You giggle and bite your lip, head spinning. You watch as Ingrid’s eyes take in all the words that spell out detailed descriptions about what you wanted her and Mapi to do to you.

“Breed here?” Ingrid asks dismissively, finger pointing right at your core as she stood above you. 

“Si,” you nod, “want you two to use me however you want.”

“However we want?” Mapi asks, in a little disbelief. You remain solid in your decision. 

“Yes,” you say confidently. You look Ingrid in the eyes when you say the next bit.

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it,” you stand, “and i’ve told you where and how i want it.” 

A smirk appears on Mapi’s face, eyes lit up like a child’s on christmas day. Ingrid on the other hand, remains stone faced and tough, leaning in to whisper into Mapi’s ear. 

You stand a little far from them and can barely hear the whispers when Ingrid clears her throat. 

“On the bed, on your knees, not a fucking sound, got it?” 

“Yes Ingrid,” you mutter, scrambling to the middle of the four-poster bed. You settle on your knees, knees spread like Ingrid likes while keeping your mouth shut. You stare at the sheets, keeping your eyes closed for good measure. 

There’s rustling and bustling, along with sharp whispers and mentions of your name like you weren’t in the room. It made you embarrassingly wet at the mere idea that they were about to use you like some “thing” they had lying around. 

Ingrid climbs onto the bed first, eyes examining the instructions you’ve so kindly left for them. She reads one out loud, the effect of her words make you feel light headed with pleasure. 

“Bite here,” she reads off your right breast, “suck here,” on the left. In the middle, you wrote “kiss here,” you smile up at Ingrid and watch as she takes in all the other words you’ve left your girlfriends.

Mapi gets right behind Ingrid and looks over her shoulder, hands coming around to graze the words along your inner thigh that she found extremely hot. 

“Do as our princess says Ingrid, hasn’t she been such a good girl lately?” 

“Yes, I think she has,” Ingrid answers, tilting her head back and kissing Mapi. You watch as your pussy gets wetter and wetter at the sight, a desperate whine just waiting in your throat.

Ingrid kissed slowly up your toned stomach, before taking your right breast in her mouth to bite. Her teeth sink into your soft flesh, nipple taut in her mouth. You moan softly, feeling her hands caress your slightly numb thighs. 

She moved to the other side swiftly, sucking hard on your nipple. It’s sloppy and wet, exactly how you had imagined it going. She pulls away, hands hovering over your slightly chilly chest. 

“Can I fondle them, darling?” Ingrid asks formally, hands seemingly hard to hold back from touching without asking. 

“O-Of course you can Ingrid, you d-don’t have to ask,” you stutter, before she uses her most humiliating tone. You think you gush onto the sheets and make a mess as she degrades you. 

“Oh but kjæreste you didn’t write that down for me to do, so how can I without asking? Wouldn’t that be rude?” 

Your brain goes blank, eyes filling with subby tears. 

“R-Rude? You’re not r-rude Ingrid, you can touch how you want!” 

Ingrid gives in as she coos, hands kneading your aching breasts soothingly. She kisses your forehead and wipes your tears away, hands caressing your clammy skin while being careful to avoid the ink so it doesn’t smudge.

Mapi on the other hand, had her phone out to collect documentation. She was sure you would enjoy the pictures she was taking as much as she and Ingrid would after all this was said and done. 

Ingrid kisses down your chest as per the instructions, hands still kneading and smacking your breasts. She stops right in front of your cunt, fingers gently rubbing the words you had left on the insides of your thighs. 

“Breed here,” on the left and “eat me!” on the right. 

“Good girl,” Ingrid praises, “you were so clear with what you wanted elskling, I’m so pleased.” 

Mapi appears by your head suddenly, wearing her strap and slipping something underneath Ingrid’s pillow. She kisses your chest and leaves a smack on your right breast just as Ingrid’s lips wrap around your clit. Mapi pulls your head into her lap and you feel her cock press right up against your lips. 

“No instructions for me here, so I’ll help you there amor,” Mapi pulls a sharpie out from the sheets and tilts your head to the side. She carefully writes “for sucking,” right on your cheek. The cold ink and familiar scent only makes your head so much more fuzzy, eyes blurry as Mapi throws the pen to the side and angles her hips to your mouth. 

She presses in just as Ingrid slips two fingers into your pussy. Your thighs thrash around a little, chest huffing as the air in your chest gets blocked by Mapi fucking your throat. 

Ingrid eats you out hungrily, fingers pushing in and out of you roughly. She glances up momentarily and she sees a flash of black when your neck pushes up. She pulls away, eyes narrowing as she licks her lips tasting you. 

“What does that one say?” Ingrid asks, shuffling up onto her knees. Her hand inside you pulls out and rubs circles over your clit, free hand wrapping around your neck as Mapi begins to pull her cock out of your mouth. 

“Choke me, Ingrid,” it says, in the finest letters. 

“Is that what you want, elskling?” she teases, bony fingers wrapping gently around your neck tighter. 

“You want me to choke you?” 

You’re nodding, lips puffy from how much you’ve been biting them. 

“I need words, pretty thing.”

“Yes Ingrid, I want you to choke me please!” you say, screaming a little. Ingrid pulls away completely as you settle against Mapi, her slightly soaked cock resting right between your shoulder blades. 

Ingrid pulls a little surprise out from under her pillow, graciously left there by Mapi. Your head pops up and you smile deliriously, desperately blinking away tears to see the toy Ingrid was holding. 

Double ended dildo’s weren’t all that common in your household but this one? This one was on everyone’s wishlist for a while now. 

“Wanna fuck you with this so bad,” Ingrid begins, before turning her attention towards Mapi, who was starting to feel a little left out. 

“But I also want to take Mapi’s cock like a good girl.” 

“We can do both, princesa.” 

Ingrid’s eyes seem to widen at the thought but she soon becomes eager and almost reeling with excitement. Scrambling to get between your legs, Mapi bends over and begins to kiss you, hands grabbing your cheeks tightly. You’re unsure of where to focus on, the feeling of Mapi’s hands so close to your neck while Ingrid lubes up one end of the toy and is starting to push it into you all becomes deliciously overwhelming. 

You feel your cunt give in to one side of the toy, the tip resting nicely against your sweet spot. Ingrid grabbed a hold of it and gently rocked it into you, your hand grabbing Mapi’s hand that slowly crept towards your neck. 

“Is this what you wanted, amor?” Mapi teased, fingers pressing right up against your windpipe. 

“Sì,” you croaked, air slowly leaving your system. Just as you were getting a little light headed, Mapi pulled away. Words to argue began to leave your lips when a weight added itself onto your thighs. 

There Ingrid sat, penetrated by the other end of the toy. She grinned from ear to ear, hips gently rocking themselves on top of you. Mapi watched Ingrid eagerly before stepping off the bed. Ingrid pulled your hands to rest on her hips, fingers immediately grabbing them to guide her. 

“Fuck, that feels so good baby,” praises Ingrid, hands grasping your breasts for stability. She was using you for her own pleasure, like a mirror or book for a suction dildo. She rode you hard, feeling the toy rock steadily with each canter of her hips. She was an expert, watching her hips move in ways you didn’t know possible. 

As you were enjoying the gorgeous sight in front of you, Mapi had climbed in behind Ingrid and looked over her shoulder. Her tattooed hands reached around and caressed Ingrid’s breasts, you watched as Ingrid melted into your other lover's arms, hips never slowing down for a second. 

“Does she feel good, princesa?” Mapi asks, hands gliding over Ingrid’s flawless skin. They stop right above her cunt, a finger reeling out to circle around her neglected clit. Ingrid slows down just a little, taking in the feeling of Mapi finally touching her. 

“Ja,” Ingrid gasps, “she feels so good.” 

The cap of the lube clicks and you’re frustrated you can’t see all that was going on behind Ingrid. You watch as Mapi whispers into Ingrid’s ear and she speeds up on top of you, bouncing on the toy more to get it to stimulate both of you.  

The frustration adds to the pleasure, almost like they were ignoring you as though you weren’t in the room with them. As though you weren’t being fucked by Ingrid. 

“She’s so pretty on top, isn’t she amor?” Mapi asks you and you break out of your daydream, nodding hard when Ingrid leans over and begins to suck on your breast. Mapi comes into view and you swear you could die happy, right in this moment. 

She’s got three fingers inside Ingrid’s ass, muscles straining as she takes her time opening up your girlfriend. Ingrid, the slut she was being, rolls her hips back onto Mapi’s fingers, pussy stretched tight around the toy. As she rocked them forwards, you felt it press your sweet spot and you gasp, pulling a devious grin on Ingrid’s face.

She begins to ride hard, feeling her pussy swallow up the toy as her ass took another one of Mapi’s fingers.  

“If only you could see how pretty she looks like this amor, you’d be as crazy about it as I am.”

“She’s taking it so well, hm?” 

“She’s perfect, aren’t you Ingrid?” Mapi whispers as Ingrid sits back up. Ingrid nods deliriously, a tired smile pulled on her face. 

“So perfect,” the Norwegian whispers, whining when Mapi pulls her fingers out. Mapi hands you the lube and you stroke her cock wetly, Ingrid’s hips cheekily grinding down on you. 

Mapi settles in behind Ingrid and your thumbs rub her hip bones as Mapi slips into her ass. You watch Ingrid’s eyes close shut and you lean up to kiss her. She kisses back desperately, hands cradling your head. 

The thing with this setup was, with every thrust of Mapi’s hips, it drove the toy inside you and Ingrid deep. You were sure you could feel it in your guts, but you saw it in Ingrid’s guts. Mapi felt it. Her hand was pressed right over the spot it bulged out from and her eyes go dark with every powerful fuck of her hips. 

She speeds up, the sounds of all your moans meld into a single harmony. Ingrid becomes boneless as the pleasure fills her body, and Mapi pulls out for just a second as you sit up against the backboard.. The toy fucks deeper into you and Ingrid as you hold her in your lap. Mapi slips back into Ingrid and she screams, feeling both of you fuck her. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid screams, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Me too!” you gasp, kissing Ingrid hard. She kisses back and pulls away, hands wrapping around your neck. Your head thuds against the wood, hands grabbing her waist tighter. She fucks herself and you with the toy harder, feeling Mapi’s hips also alternate into her at the same pace. 

Ingrid goes stiff when she comes, falling back into Mapi. Your eyes roll into your head when the high hits, and Ingrid releases the pressure around your neck at the perfect moment to boost your pleasure. 

Mapi kisses Ingrid’s shoulder softly as she gets everyone untangled. You take deep breaths when Ingrid tries to climb into your skin, legs tangling right into yours. 

She lets Mapi clean her but insists on wiping you down. She’s gentle as she scrubs the ink off your skin, kissing each spot you wrote on. 

“Can we try this on me next?” she asks quietly, playing with your hair. Mapi nods behind her, caressing Ingrid’s thigh under the sheets. 

“I’ve bought more sharpies especially for you, my love.” you whisper, thanking the algorithm gods for sending you that video.

[kylestfs]

Room 214

Albert Summers had been driving for hours, he was absolutely exhausted and needed to stop somewhere. At 45, he didn’t have the ability to drive as much as he did before. He found a nice Motel on the side of the highway. It wasn't much, but it would do for the night.

As he went to check in, the receptionist said

"Room 214, sleep well” as she handed him the keys.

Walking upstairs, Albert dragged his suitcase to the hallway, which was dimly lit as he found his room and unlocked the door. He found a standard hotel room, with a bed, a small desk, a chair and…a pile of dirty looking clothes in the corner, obviously left by the previous occupant of room 214.

His first thought was to return them to the lobby, but as he grabbed them to do so, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust…the pile contained socks, a weird looking underwear which he’d later find to be a jockstrap, tight gym shorts and a stained shirt which were all unwashed and absolutely filthy. They smelled so bad they stunk up the entire room and left a weird aura.

Albert decided to call a hotel receptionist to get rid of the clothes, and almost immediately heard knocking on the door. Opening it, he found a huge 6’2 young man with bulging muscles, wearing similar clothes to the ones left in the room. The man also smelled the same as the clothes, but Albert wasn’t sure if it was coming from the room or the jock. Before he could say anything, the jock engaged.

“Yo man, I’m Andrew, lemme check on these for you.”

He said, with a confident and lowkey dumb tone. The jock. entered the room and looked at the clothes, confused.

“Bro, these are yours!” Andrew said, leaving Albert confused.

“No they’re not! They were here when I came in, and you can tell I obviously wouldn’t even fit in them”

Andrew smirked then replied “Nah man, those are definetly yours…you wore them for a week straight.”

“What? No t-“

Before Albert could finish his sentence, Andrew shoved the smelly shirt directly on his face.

The pungent, musky odor filled his nostrils, making his eyes water. Albert tried to pull away, but Andrew's grip was obviously really strong, he just got a glimpse of his bulging muscles as he kept the shirt on him.

"Breathe it in, man. Really take it in," Andrew commanded, his voice low and hypnotic.

Albert felt a weird feeling he needed to obey him, and he did. He inhaled deeply, the overpowering scent clouding his mind as he started feeling a tingling sensation spreading through his body. His mind started to feel foggy, his thoughts slowing down.

"See? Starting to remember now, huh? That’s my boy!" Andrew said, his tone almost teasing.

Andrew now lowered the shirt with his left hand and took a sock with his right one, then held it to Albert's face.

"Smell this one. It's yours, dude."

He said, shoving it deeper in Albert’s nose, making the foot funk absolutely vomit worthy and making him unable to think straight, but he found himself leaning in, taking another deep breath. The smell was even stronger, more intense. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His body felt hot, his skin prickling with heat and starting to become mattered with sweat.

Andrew's voice became a steady rhythm, guiding Albert deeper into the haze. "You love that smell, don't you?

It's who you are. You're a jock, bro. Just like me."

Albert's resistance was fading. He nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over.

The words were starting to make sense, the truth sinking into his mind permanently.

"Yeah, you get it. Now, check this out."

Andrew lifted his own arm, exposing his hairy, sweat mattered armpit. The smell was overwhelming, a mix of musk and sweat that filled the room and showed an obvious lack of any kind of hygiene.

"Take a whiff, man. Smell what it's like to be a real jock."

Albert leaned in, almost involuntarily, and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating, filling his lungs and clouding his thoughts completely. His body began to change, muscles swelling, skin tightening. His clothes felt tight as his frame grew larger, more muscular.

His feet lengthened, filling out his shoes until they felt snug. The odor from his feet mingled with the room, becoming a powerful mix of French cheese, melted butter and salty sweat. His height shot up, now matching Andrew's at 6'2". His rear became a firm, round bubble butt, perfect in its shape and size, making his shorts stretch and almost snap. His digestive system took a turn as it was now ready to sprout gas every 5 minutes or so.

As his transformation continued, his thoughts became simpler, focused on physical desires and sensations. His IQ dropped, his mind becoming that of a dumb jock, carefree and confident. His age quickly regressed, reaching 20 years old. His skin becoming smooth and youthful.

"Bro, you're looking sick," Andrew said, grinning.

"Now, flex for me. Let's see those muscles."

Albert-now fully Parker flexed his new, bulging biceps, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Hell yeah dude”

His personality had shifted completely.

He was loud, arrogant, and loved his new body. His pits were hairy and strong-smelling, his face chiseled and handsome. His breath was hot and slightly stale, a testament to his new careless attitude towards hygiene as he brushed his teeth less frequently, adding to his raw, primal appeal.

Sexuality was no longer a question. He was 100% straight, but was also was irresistibly drawn to his own body, admiring his muscles, his scent, and his raw masculinity. His kinks emerged quickly-enjoying his own smell, flexing in the mirror, and reveling in his own farts. His package was impressive, soft at 10 cm and swelling to 20 cm, with fat hairy balls underneath, barely fitting in regular underwear’s.

Andrew clapped him on the back, the sound echoing in the room. "Welcome back to the team, bro. Let's hit the gym tomorrow and show off those gains."

Parker laughed, a deep, hearty sound.

"You got it, man.” Then sprouted a massive fart that Andrew couldn’t help but sniff.

As they left the room and walked down the hallway, the scent of sweat, dirty feet and farts was trailing behind them, soon to be smelled by all kinds of chicks who’ll spend the night at room 214.