#so just quickly adding in your name to the post

[formulafanfics13]

The Podium Princess - MV1, PG10, LN4, LH44, CL16, OP81 🔥

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They called her the trophy. Not to her face, no one was that bold, but behind closed doors, in locker rooms and paddocks, in late-night strategy meetings when the real prize had already been won. Not points. Not podiums. Her.

She wasn't a model. Wasn't PR. Wasn't on payroll or affiliated with any team. No last name in the paddock. No title. Just her. Always in the right place at the right time. Always watching. Always waiting.

There were rumours. That Toto had hired her. That Christian had tried to. That she'd once broken Max in two and left Lando shaking. That Lewis kissed her ankle after Japan '21 and whispered something in her ear that made her cry, and still came first the next weekend.

She never spoke publicly. Never posted. Never smiled for the cameras. But after every race, every time the confetti hit the air, she was already waiting. The three podium finishers. Gold, silver, bronze. First, second, third.

They knew what came next.

She was the reward. The ritual. The tradition unspoken but carved into the sport. And every man on the grid wanted to earn her.

She was already waiting in the suite. Monza's podium had ended hours ago. Champagne sprayed, interviews given, suits half-unzipped and post-race high still vibrating in the air. The hotel room, booked before the race even started, was lit with soft amber lighting. Warm. Clean. No cameras.

And she was on her knees. Naked. Waiting. The door opened. Max stepped in first. Always. His footsteps were slow, measured. Calm fury. Gold medal draped around his neck, champagne still lingering on his throat, jaw clenched.

He didn't say hello. He never did. He just walked to her, grabbed her chin, and tilted her head up. "You watched?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Who did you want to win?"

"I I wanted you to-"

"Good."

He dropped his hand. Unzipped. Let his race suit hang at his waist as he stared down at her. Cold eyes. Hot rage. "You'll thank me later for making sure they didn't get first."

She didn't ask who they was. Because Charles and Lando were behind him.

Charles closed the door gently. Shrugged off his jacket. Smiled. Soft and unbothered. Lando was already panting. Hands in his curls, pacing like he couldn't wait another second. Silver medal hanging crooked against his chest.

"You looked so pretty in the paddock," Charles murmured. "You wear that dress for us?"

She nodded. "For the podium."

"Our podium," Max snapped.

"Only ours," Lando added quickly.

She tried to speak again, but Max stepped forward and grabbed her hair. "No talking unless we tell you."

She whimpered.

Charles walked behind her and trailed his fingers down her spine. "You're shaking already, bébé. You want us that bad?"

"She's wet already," Lando said, crouching in front of her. His fingers dipped between her thighs without permission. "Fuck. She's dripping."

"Because she knows what she's here for," Max growled.

"She's a toy," Charles said softly. "Not a girl. A reward."

Lando moaned. "She's our reward."

Max grabbed her by the throat and pushed her down. "Open your mouth."

She did. Fast. Eager.

"God, she's trained," Charles muttered.

Max shoved his cock past her lips without hesitation. "Not gentle," he snapped. "She doesn't deserve gentle. Not after watching them on the podium too."

Tears welled in her eyes as Max fucked her mouth, fast, deep. His hand never left her hair. Her throat burned. Her hands shook. She moaned around him like she liked it.

Behind her, Charles was spreading her knees wider. "She's shaking," he said. "Look at her, Max. She's falling apart already."

Lando sat on the bed, stroking himself slowly, watching them with glazed eyes. "Can I have her mouth next?" he asked, desperate.

"You can have whatever's left of her," Max grunted.

He pulled out, her spit glistening on his cock. Her jaw ached. Her eyes were already ruined.

"Up," Charles said. "Hands on the bed."

She obeyed. Still silent. Still their toy.

Lando moved behind her, guiding himself into her mouth with shaky fingers. "God-fuck-she missed me."

Max stood behind her now, staring down at her ass, the way her body trembled. "She's not ready for both."

"She'll take it," Charles said calmly, dragging a hand through her hair. "She always does."

Max pushed inside. No warning. No gentleness. She screamed around Lando's cock. She was full. Too full. One in her mouth. One in her cunt. Body caught between them, stretched and used.

Charles sat beside her head, petting her hair. "That's it, sweetheart. Let the podium take its prize."

"She's mine," Max growled.

"She's ours," Lando gasped, fucking her mouth harder.

"Don't come yet," Charles said softly. "She hasn't even begged."

Max slapped her ass. "Beg."

She moaned. Tried. Choked.

"Beg."

She sobbed. "Please-use me-need you-want to be-your prize-your toy-please-please-"

"That's a good girl," Charles whispered.

They fucked her harder. Tears ran down her face. Her body shook. They didn't stop. Because she was theirs. And they had earned her.

She didn't know how long she'd been on her knees. Couldn't remember how many times she'd moaned, how many times Lando had kissed her cheek and whispered "good girl" while fucking her throat like he couldn't breathe without it. Her body was shaking. Fucked open from behind, stuffed full in the front. Every nerve fried.

But it wasn't over. Not even close. Because Max, still behind her, still deep inside her, pulled out just long enough to grab his phone from the bedside table. And pressed record. "Keep her still," he snapped at Charles.

Charles leaned forward immediately, one hand in her hair, the other around her waist. "Open your mouth wider," he whispered against her ear. "Max wants a good shot."

She tried. Gagged. Lando groaned. "Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking pretty like this."

Max stepped back, phone tilted slightly down. The screen lit her up. On all fours. Face soaked. Lips wrapped around Lando's cock. Ass red. Pussy dripping. Her whole body shaking like a ruined toy. And that's what Max wanted to remember.

He circled them, slow, camera rolling. "Look at her," he muttered. "Taking it like she was made for this. Like her only purpose is to be fucked by the podium."

"She's better than a trophy," Lando said, fucking her mouth deeper. "Trophies don't cry."

"She lives to cry for us," Charles added, kissing her neck.

She moaned around Lando's cock, a wet, broken sound.

Max reached around, spread her ass with one hand, filmed her pussy stretched open, slick and swollen. "Say it," he growled. "Tell the camera whose you are."

She choked. Could barely breathe.

Charles whispered in her ear again. "Go on, ma belle. Tell him. Say you belong to the winners."

She sobbed. "I-belong-to the podium-only-the podium-please-"

Max groaned. "Fuck, she's perfect."

He tossed the phone on the bed, still recording, still angled perfectly, and slammed back into her. She screamed. The force knocked her forward, throat tightening around Lando's cock. Lando let out a strangled moan, both hands gripping her hair now.

Charles slid in front of her again. "Too much?"

She shook her head, tears spilling.

"Good," he said, kissing her forehead.

Max was relentless. Deep, brutal thrusts. Skin slapping. Filthy sounds echoing in the room. "Gonna come in her," he grunted. "She'll feel it for days."

"Not until I do," Lando panted.

"She'll take both," Charles murmured. "She always does."

Lando came first. Deep. Loud. Hands fisting in her hair. She gagged as he spilled down her throat. He moaned her name. Said "thank you" like she was something holy.

Then Max. He didn't warn her. Just shoved in harder, filled her up, grabbed the phone again to record her shaking body as he came. Pressed the lens to her back, her ass, the mess dripping out of her. "She's mine," he said.

And Charles? Charles pulled her up by the throat, kissed her mouth full of Lando's come, then whispered in French, something filthy, something possessive, and came all over her chest, groaning as she collapsed in his arms.

The three of them stood there. Breathless. Spent. She was twitching on the bed. Mouth open. Eyes half-closed. Body leaking from both ends. The phone was still recording. And Max was still smiling. "Podium earned."

*

Japan was quiet. Until it wasn't. The hotel suite had been prepared hours before the checkered flag. Same champagne chilling in the bucket. Same lighting. Same velvet chair in the corner for watching. Same bed in the middle of the room. And her. Already on her knees.

Hair brushed. Skin lotioned. Collar on. Nothing else. Her body was still sore from Monza. Still marked from Charles' teeth, from Max's fingers. Her throat had healed. Her thighs hadn't.

But she was here. Because they'd won her. Again. Max entered first. As always. He didn't greet her. He never did. Just walked straight to her, gripped her jaw, tilted her face up to inspect her. "You missed me?"

She nodded, lips parted.

"Show me."

She leaned in and kissed the tip of his cock through his race suit. Once. Twice. Reverent.

He smiled. Cold. "Good girl."

Then Lewis walked in. And everything changed. Because Lewis wasn't Max. He didn't need to speak first. He just walked to the window, took off his jewelry slowly, placed it on the dresser one piece at a time. Watched her reflection in the glass. "She looks nervous," he said calmly.

"She should be," Max replied, already undoing his zipper. "She's got a lot to take tonight."

Then Pierre. Bronze. Third. First time on the right side of this room. He stopped at the door like he'd walked into a dream. "Fuck," he whispered.

She turned her head, eyes locking with his. Wide. Wet. Waiting.

"She's beautiful," he breathed. "You weren't exaggerating."

"She's better than beautiful," Max said, walking behind her. "She's obedient."

Pierre stepped closer. Crouched in front of her. Reached out, hesitated. "Can I-?"

"She's yours," Lewis said, finally turning around. "For the night, she belongs to us."

Pierre's hand touched her face. Soft. Awestruck. "She's warm," he whispered.

Lewis moved behind her. "She's always warm for winners."

Max was already stroking himself. "Let's show him how it works."

They guided her to the bed. Pierre sat at the edge. She crawled between his legs like instinct. Mouth open. Max climbed behind her, spreading her thighs wide. Lewis stayed by the dresser. Watching. Unbuttoning his shirt with slow precision.

"Go ahead," Max told Pierre. "She'll take you."

Pierre moaned the moment she wrapped her lips around him. "Jesus Christ."

"She's good," Max said, lining himself up. "But she cries better."

And then he was inside her. Rough. Deep. Immediate. She gagged around Pierre's cock. Her knees buckled.

Lewis walked to the side of the bed and leaned down. "Don't stop." 

Her eyes were already wet. Pierre had his hands in her hair. "She's- fuck- she's tight."

"She's always tight," Max groaned, thrusting harder. "I ruin her and she still grips like it's her first time."

"She's making noise," Lewis said, kneeling beside her. "Open wider."

She tried. Moaned. Shook. "Good girl."

Max grabbed her hips and pulled her back harder. "She'll come just from being used like this. Watch."

Pierre looked like he couldn't breathe. "She's taking both of us..."

"She can take three," Lewis murmured. "Kiss her."

Pierre leaned in, kissed her mouth between thrusts. "You're so fucking good."

Max was panting now. "Touch her clit."

Lewis reached down, found her swollen bud, and rubbed slow circles. She screamed.

Pierre moaned. "She's gonna-fuck-"

"She's allowed," Lewis said. "Let her come for us."

She came hard. Loud. Her whole body trembling as Max didn't stop. As Pierre fucked her throat like it was the only place he wanted to live. As Lewis kept his finger on her clit until her hips jerked from the overstimulation.

And still, none of them stopped. Because the podium never finishes first. She wasn't speaking anymore. Not because she wasn't allowed. But because she couldn't. Her voice had cracked an hour ago.

Her mouth was raw from Lando. Her cunt was swollen from Max. Her whole body was shaking, red, marked, pulsing with every heartbeat. And she was still taking them. Because it was Suzuka. And the podium hadn't finished.

Pierre had just come in her mouth. Soft moans. Apologetic hands. A trembling thank you like he didn't know what else to say.

Max had pulled out mid-fuck just to smear himself across her back, panting curses in Dutch, promising to do it harder next time.

But Lewis? Lewis hadn't even started yet. He stood by the bed like a king waiting for silence. Shirtless. Calm. Gold chain still hanging against his chest. His hand stroked his cock slowly, not because he needed to, but because he liked making her wait.

Pierre sat back in the velvet chair, legs spread, shirt undone. Watching her like art. "She's perfect," he whispered. "You were right."

"She's not perfect," Max muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, still breathing hard. "She's ours."

Lewis finally spoke. "Lift her."

Max grabbed her under the arms. Pierre moved to help, hands gentle even as she whimpered. They laid her flat across the bed. Back arched. Arms above her head. Legs trembling, spread.

Lewis stepped between them. Looked down. "Been a while, huh?" he murmured, rubbing her clit with two fingers. "Last time was Spa. You remember?"

She nodded. Barely.

He slid two fingers in. She cried out. "So tight," he said. "Still greedy after all that cock."

Then, without warning, he pushed in. All of him. She screamed.

Lewis didn't flinch. Didn't slow. "Deep breath, baby."

He started to fuck her slow. Deep. Deliberate.

Max stroked her cheek, watching her cry. "She loves it."

"She was made for it," Lewis said, thrusting harder. "A hole for winners."

Pierre swallowed hard. "Can I... try her again?"

Max laughed. "Not like that."

Lewis grinned, pulled out. "Flip her."

They moved her like a doll. Onto her stomach. Ass up. Face pressed into the sheets.

"Ever done both at once?" Pierre asked.

Max smiled. "Of course."

Lewis got on the bed behind her. Lined up again. "Hold her mouth open," he said.

Pierre moved in front. Palmed her cheek. "You ready?"

She nodded.

"Good girl."

And then, both.

Lewis pushed into her cunt. Pierre pushed into her mouth. She choked. Moaned. Cried. Her body shuddered.

"Holy fuck," Pierre gasped. "She's, Jesus-"

Lewis grabbed her hips. "Take it."

Max stood behind them, filming again. "Look at this fucking mess," he muttered. "All for us."

Pierre fucked her mouth faster. Lewis hit deeper. Harder. She came again, screaming around Pierre's cock.

"God- she's coming again-"

"Let her," Lewis growled.

She collapsed. Legs shaking. Body twitching. And Lewis didn't stop.

"Gonna come in her," he said. "She needs to feel it."

Pierre moaned. "Me too- fuck- I'm-" He spilled in her mouth. Groaned like he couldn't believe it. "She swallowed-fuck-thank you-thank you-"

Lewis came inside her seconds later. Gripped her hips like he was claiming her. "Stuffed," he whispered. "You're full, baby."

She moaned into the sheets. Boneless. Gone. And the podium? Satisfied. For now.

*

She was already panting when the door closed.

Qatar heat still clung to her skin, sweat slick between her thighs. The podium had finished late, media delayed them, the champagne sticky on their suits, but the minute the suite door shut, everything changed.

Lando threw his medal on the floor. Oscar locked the door. 

Lewis didn't speak. He just walked to her, slow, controlled, and touched her chin. "You look nervous."

"I-I'm okay," she whispered.

He tilted her face up. "You remember what happens when you lie to me?"

She swallowed.

Oscar sat on the edge of the bed. "She's shaking."

Lando was already shirtless, pacing like a tiger. "She knows what's coming."

Lewis smirked. "Then let's get started."

She was naked in minutes. Bent over the bed, arms stretched forward, thighs open. Lando already between them, two fingers buried in her soaked pussy, grinning like it was Christmas. "She missed me," he muttered. "She's soaking."

"Because she's ours now," Oscar said, sliding behind her, kissing her spine. "She knows who she belongs to."

Lewis sat in the chair. Watching. Palming himself through his trousers. Calm. Calculating. "She's been good," he said. "Let her come once."

Lando immediately curled his fingers up. Oscar pressed against her from behind, whispering filth in her ear. "Come for the podium, baby."

She did. Hard. Loud. Her knees buckled. Her voice broke. And then, the tone shifted.

Lewis stood. Walked behind her. Touched the small of her back. "You ready for more?" he asked.

She nodded. He kissed her temple. "Good. Because tonight, we're using your ass."

She froze.

Lando moaned under his breath. "Holy shit, are we really?"

"She's ready," Lewis said. "We've trained her. She's taken us all. It's time."

Oscar kissed her shoulder. "You trust us, don't you?"

She whimpered. "Yes."

"Then breathe," Lewis whispered. "And stay still."

They took their time. Not out of kindness, out of intention. Oscar was the first to prepare her. Lube. Two fingers at first. Then three. Slow, slow, slow. She cried into the sheets, thighs shaking.

Lewis whispered by her ear. "Don't hold your breath, baby."

She exhaled.

Oscar twisted his fingers. "She's so tight."

"She's never been taken there," Lando said, climbing on the bed beside her. "Let me have her mouth."

"Take it," Lewis said. "She can multitask."

She opened for Lando automatically, gagging around him as Oscar worked deeper behind her. And Lewis? Lewis knelt beside the bed, fingers stroking her spine. "Good girl. Keep breathing."

She moaned around Lando's cock.

Oscar pulled his fingers out. "She's ready."

And then Oscar pushed in. Her body arched. She screamed around Lando.

Lewis held her down. "Shh," he soothed. "You're okay. Just breathe. That's it. Let it burn."

Oscar didn't stop. Thrust deeper. Slower. "She's fucking incredible," he muttered. "She's squeezing so tight."

Lando fucked her throat harder, watching her tears spill. "She's crying."

"She's allowed," Lewis said. "She's being broken in."

Oscar groaned. "She's taking all of me- fuck-"

Lewis leaned in and kissed her lips, just beside where Lando's cock split them open. "You're perfect," he whispered. "Our little slut."

Oscar's pace picked up. Lando came in her mouth, deep, loud, moaning her name. Then Lewis climbed on the bed behind Oscar. "Move," he ordered.

Oscar pulled out, just long enough for Lewis to shove in, harder. She screamed again. Her whole body writhed, shaking violently.

Lewis grabbed her throat. "Breathe."

She gasped. Choked. Came again, ruined. Lewis didn't stop.

"Now you belong to all of us," he growled.

[doiliedaze]

From The Back

Warnings: somno, dub-con, established relationship, rough anal, rimjob, eating ass, talks of stretching you out, strap referred to as cock, abs is packing, mean abby (she just wants you to shutup and take it), fingering (r! receiving), spanking, just ass play in general, fucks reader in a headlock, annoying reader, post nut kindness, lmk if I missed anything

Genre: smut

A/n: DARK FIC!! I feel like Abby would actually really like anal and I wanted to try out these themes even though I am on it for myself!! Thank you @bambishaven hope you enjoy!!

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It's the dead of winter and your girlfriend thought it would be smart to take your anemic ass to the mountains!

Of course, you packed heavy and brought what is needed to make sure your iron levels are where they need to be, but your surroundings are just a bit too intense!

So here you are nuzzling into the heater that is your girlfriend with a heated blanket on top of the both of you.

"Can't believe I let you convivence me this was a good fucking idea!" You say with chattering teeth, "I feel like if my nipples get any harder, they are gonna fall off!" You whine again...for the 20th time this hour.

All she did was pull you closer and ran her big hands over your stomach. "Go to sleep you won't feel it as much." She states blandly, almost like she doesn't care that you're freezing your ass off!

"Abs it's too cold to sleep! I feel like you aren't listening to me!"

"I hear you pumpkin and I'm trying to make it better now c'mon and sleep f' me." She mutters as her hand travels to cup your cunt, causing you to let out a small okay.

You let the heat of Abby engulf you and rest your head into her neck as she slowly pushes in her thick finger. The ring on her ring finger adding friction that always makes your tummy flip.

"Surprised your cold with how warm your pussy is", she mutters as she kisses the top of your head.

She kept her slow thrusts until she felt you were really asleep.

She retracks her finger from your cunt and she flips you on your stomach. To make sure you stay warm she keeps the blanket on you and slides underneath it.

Quickly Abby wiggles your sweats and panties down and rubs the globe of your ass.

The drive up here put her in a slight mood, so she wants to do something to please her. Besides her touch alone makes you melt so who really cares about your maybe protest.

She spreads your ass open and spits on your puckered hole.

Her tongue rubbing in circles on the outline of your asshole and moving to bite your cheek to drawl tired moans from you. Smearing the saliva as she goes.

The thick wetness making you stir slightly. Quickly her tongue pushes another glob deep into you.

When she feels like your wet enough, she adjusts herself and the blanket as she puts her weight on you.

Abby's hands get to work on balancing herself and sliding her cock out her pants and into you. The thick tip building pressure as she pushes in with a burn. Your back arches and your eyes squeeze.

Abby puts more of her body weight on you as she mounts you, "keep those eyes close, just tryna keep you warm pumpkin."

The hand she was using to keep herself up move to your neck as she starts to move.

"Can feel you spreading around me" she whispers, hot breath fawning your shoulder. "So eager for my cock, don't even know it" she moans as she picks up her pace, your ass naturally bouncing back on her.

You moan out incoherently in your sleep, and some drool escapes your lips.

"Can't even be quiet in your sleep" she groans to herself as she slaps your ass.

Her teeth bite down into your shoulder as she quickens her pace, chasing the building orgasm in the pit of er stomach.

"Should make you shut up and sleep more fuck this ass is perfect." She moans with her eyes closed shut.

The faster she moves the more you stir, "stop moving, just fucking take it" she snarls as she's so close. Her name flowing out your dry throat as you begin to wake. "Shut the fuck up pumpkin" she demands as she feels you move away from her movements.

Irritated and horny she wraps her bicep around your neck and flexes the muscle. Blocking your airways and whines. Repeating take it and go to sleep, just desperate to get her orgasm with no regard of you. Knowing her dumb slut wouldn't mind!

When she does cum, she makes sure to slam into you a couple more times to get her energy out.

Abby releases you and checks your breathing, worried she might've been too rough for a moment.

Alas you are okay, just unconscious but this isn't a first and it won't be the last.

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A/n: why is writing anal actually hard?? I gotta practice it more and writing smut for Abby in general, however I hope y’all enjoyed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian @furrytaesss @milanyas @highnfemme @5seos @artemisdreamfairie @ellabswife

Dividers- @anitalenia

[lokissweater]

birthday boy!satoru who sleepily grins and smiles when you wake him up with a giant cake and gifts in bed, slowly propping himself up on an elbow and rubbing his eyes, your sweet soft voice singing him ‘happy birthday’ as he looks at you with a little gleam in his eyes.

birthday boy!satoru who devours the cake you bought him right then and there, refuses to go to the dining room table or get plates and refuses to let you leave the room, a fork in each of your hands as you both munch on his frosty vanilla bean cake, satoru’s eyes lightning up like stars once he sees that his precious pretty wife also got him kikufuku, his hands shooting out to tear open the packaging and stuff two in his mouth at once, feeding you one in return and him poking your puffed up cheeks with a shiny grin because you’re just oh so cute.

birthday boy!satoru who still refuses to let you leave his side once you’ve both cleared the desserts, his arms snaking around your waist and gently pulling you to lay on top of him, your bellies full and the sugar swirling in your heads proving no match for satoru as he raises a sneaky hand, fingers looping and pulling at the thin straps of your top down to devour you next, his favorite dessert, you squirming and giggling as you try to swat his hands away and tell him no…. but you let him have a little taste anyways, it’s his birthday after all! 

birthday boy!satoru who hasn’t even taken a peak at his presents because he just wants you, licking you up like the icing he licked off of his fingers just a few minutes prior, wet slick tongue running from the side of your neck down to your puffy plump tits as you prop yourself up, hands on his bare chest and with a shudder to your breath.

birthday boy!satoru who slobbers hickeys into your tits and sucks your nipples like a freak, you whining pushing at his chest and telling him he’s sucking too hard, and him only giving you a muffled ‘but it’s my birthday sweets!’ before sucking harder and taking advantage of your cute boobs, his big hands gripping your upper arms to keep you up and still.

birthday boy!satoru who finally listens to your protests about how you have plans made for him and you need to get going, a pout to his pretty face and dramatically moaning about how he wanted ‘morning birthday sex’ from his wife, but his face quickly switching back to that loving silly grin you love so much as soon as he sees you giggle and smile.

birthday boy!satoru who is bouncing off the walls when you tell him you got tickets to the new winter wonderland festival that’s in your town, him wanting to go since practically birth (last year) and talking your ear off about it ever since then, sprinting out of bed and putting on his pants and thin sweatshirt.

birthday boy!satoru who pouts again when you drag him back in the house because his attire is not fit for the weather outside, and pouts still as you’re bundling him up in a thicker puffer jacket, his cheeks going pink once you press a sweet kiss to his jutted out lips and chasing yours for more, obnoxious kissy noises filling the air.

birthday boy!satoru who nearly collapses upon arriving at the winter wonderland festival, the name doing itself justice with the holiday decorations strewn about and pinecone ornament filled garlands hanging from every post lamp, the particularly snowy day adding to the christmas feel as he quickly interlaces your fingers together and drags you around.

birthday boy!satoru who gets in line to meet santa, scoffing over the weird looks the parents in line were giving him as you laughed, him muttering something about how it’s discrimination to be judged like this just because he’s not a kid, and that his christmas wish list was just as important as a five year olds.

birthday boy!satoru who jumps on the old man’s lap with a huge smile, santa’s alarmed eyes darting in every corner as your husband went on about the things he wanted (mainly sweets), not a single ounce of giving a shit in his body because it was his day.

birthday boy!satoru who finishes off his christmas wish list with ‘oh! and for my wife to never divorce me! yeah put that one at the top actually—’

birthday boy!satoru who refuses to let you treat him the entire day, saying he was satoru gojo and that he was made of money for you to spend, you playfully rolling your eyes as he got gingerbread cookie after gingerbread cookie for you, and the one time you show up with peppermint kikufuku, he kisses your cheek over and over a million fucking times in gratitude.

birthday boy!satoru who by the end of the day is spent from hours worth of eating sweets and desserts and riding the kiddy rides, requesting to get on the ferris wheel one more time just as the two of you were leaving to go home.

birthday boy!satoru who has an arm around your shoulders and a cheek on the side of your head on the ferris wheel, his heart fuzzy and warm despite the chilling temperature of the night, all due to precious little you that made his day so special in the way that you did, in the way that you do every year that makes him absolutely melt and feel worthwhile.

birthday boy!satoru who cups your cheek and brings you in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips amongst the glittering lights, music, and laughter of the festival below, feeling borderline emotional over the fact that he’s married to such a beautiful person like you.

“will you marry me baby?”

“toru we’re already married—”

“oh so you want to divorce me then—”

birthday boy!satoru who leaves the festival with you hand in hand, and with a new found sense of energy because his sugar filled brain managed to remember the promise you made him this morning, one that had to do with sexy time upon arriving home, his hands literally harassing you the entire car ride home with them shoved down your shirt or a needy squeeze to your thighs.

birthday boy!satoru who deems this the best birthday he’s ever had in his life.

but birthday boy!satoru knows that he has the best birthdays of his life every year actually, and knowing that they were ever since he met and married you, for they were never this sweet before.

authors note: happy birthday to my glorious honored one OH how i need him <333 :33

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Flesh Wound - Dr. Jack Abbot x chef!reader

Summary: 2.5k words. Dr. Abbot's wife's cancels date night after suffering a kitchen mishap. In an effort to avoid adding to his stress, she takes herself--and her bloody hand--to the Pitt without telling him.

Warnings: canon-typical gore, blood, graphic descriptions of wounds, & knives. Colorful language, per usual. Implied age gap. breaking select grammar rules because I can. not beta read.

a/n: This got away from me and is longer than necessary lmao. I’m not in love with it, but I need to get it out of my brain and drafts so it stops plaguing me. Enjoy my first Pitt fic! Divider credit!

“Fuck!” you hissed. The kitchen came to a standstill around you; your cooks, dishwashers, and wait staff suddenly focused on the angry gash on your hand.

Abby’s was your pride and joy. Back in the day, culinary school felt like a gamble and then some. Today, you thank your lucky stars that it panned out well. The restaurant you’d built from the ground up was often featured in local publications and had grown into a neighborhood hub—it was a success from the day you first opened the doors to the public.

On days you didn’t stay at work for the full evening rush—like tonight, when you had your silver fox of a husband waiting at home with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and the full Netflix catalogue at your fingertips—you at least made sure to come in for a couple hours in the afternoon to help set up and ensure your staff had all the support they needed for a successful night.

Amid prep work for a new dish you were piloting, you looked away at just the wrong moment when your name was called, resulting in the unmistakable piercing feeling shooting through your hand. You’d nicked yourself. Well, more than nicked yourself, because you were now bleeding at a rate that would have Javadi passed out cold on the floor.

This certainly wasn’t your first knife injury and probably wouldn’t be your last. You haphazardly cleaned up your station as best you could while holding pressure to the wound with a towel. Accidents happen to everyone, no matter how long they’ve been in the industry. That didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing to slice your palm open in front of the staff who were supposed to look up to you. 

You bit your lip and willed the tears to stay at bay after closing your office door. You tried taking deep breaths as you sat on the edge of your desk. In for 4, out for 8. In for 5, out for 10.

It didn’t help much.

This hurts like a bitch, you cursed through the unrelenting stinging. It was worse than any other kitchen injuries you’d had in recent memory. You remembered your husband rambling about how the hands were one of the most highly vascularized parts of the body. When it bleeds, it bleeds, he said to you. You were acutely aware of that now.

The bleeding wasn’t showing signs of stopping anytime soon, even after you’d soaked through two hand towels. Jack had taught you quite a bit of first aid and then some over the years, but even you recognized that you couldn’t patch yourself up. When a little fuzzy feeling began to sink in, you knew it was time to seek medical attention from a professional who wouldn’t spiral at the mere notion of you being harmed.

Sure, you could’ve called your trauma doctor husband, who seldom went anywhere without his ‘go bag’, but that would make too much sense. You didn’t want Jack to worry about you. He did anyway, but you didn’t want to add to his stress. The salt and pepper hair suited him well–you frequently reminded him when you carded your fingers through his curls–but if he went full-on gray, you might be accused of grave robbing.

“Doctor Abbot speaking,” the man grunted in greeting. The trauma doc hadn’t looked at the caller ID before answering. Or maybe his mind was still filled with the post-night shift sleep haze.

“Hey, honey,” you smiled through the phone despite your barely contained anxiety. The fresh towel you left the restaurant with was quickly turning crimson. The walk to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center was 15 minutes, and you prayed that you’d make it there before the towel was soaked through or before you passed out—whichever would come first.

Your voice washed over Jack like warm honey. His shoulders relaxed and he sighed deeply. Per usual, he hadn’t realized how tense he was until you dissolved his stress.

“Hello, my beautiful wife,” he flirted through the phone, the corners of his lips ticking up into a smile. Several years into your relationship, he could still make you blush.

“I know we planned to stay in tonight and watch a movie, but I’m gonna have to stay at the restaurant late. We got slammed, and I need to make sure the team has everything they need.” That counted as a white lie, right? Jack and his wife didn’t keep secrets. But this time, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, you rationalized. You would tell him once you were all stitched up, snuggling at home with him, and not pale as a ghost. You would tell him when you could laugh about it, at how silly the oopsie you made in the kitchen was. Right now you were not laughing.

Abbot nodded, though you couldn’t see it. Your dedication to making sure your staff were taken care of was admirable; you were always so attentive, caring, and considerate. But selfishly, Jack would’ve given his other leg to spend a night with his wife. 

It wasn’t like you both weren’t used to taking rainchecks. Sometimes chefs called out sick and you had to step up, or put out metaphorical and literal fires. Other times, Jack’s pager seemed to be determined to set a record for most received messages.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. We can do something tomorrow.” It was a promise they’d hold each other to.

Years in service to the military and working in healthcare–emergency medicine, no less–meant he was used to change and could be flexible, to say the least. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be miserable to everyone around him until he saw his wife again.

Keeping a low profile at the Pitt was damn near impossible given your reputation.

The ER staff were well acquainted with Dr. Abbot’s wife, the pretty lady who brought them food. It started when you brought Jack dinner, and then Dana too. Sometimes Robby if you caught him at the right time. Eventually, you’d occasionally drop off catering-sized orders from Abby’s to be shared amongst the Pitt staff, just because.

A concerning majority of the providers, nurses, techs, RTs, and radiology staff survived 13-hour shifts on protein bars and far more milligrams of caffeine than was considered safe for human consumption. (It was a good thing they had plenty of 12 leads and crash carts full of pharm goodies for when a staff member inevitably developed a caffeine-induced dysrhythmia.) When the smell of Dr. Abbot’s wife’s food filled the Pitt, they knew they were in for a treat.

“You got any food for us, Mrs. Abbot?” Lupe asked as you approached the thick registration desk glass, before her eyes fell to your hand cradled against your chest. Definitely not catering.

Unfortunately for you, the third towel was fully saturated by the time you made it through the lobby’s double doors. The fuzzy feeling from earlier was quickly advancing to woozy.

Lupe and Dana brought you straight back from triage, effectively bumping you to the top of the queue. Maybe it wasn’t entirely according to hospital policy, but they’d never hear the end of it from Abbot if he found out his wife was stuck in a waiting room while she bled out.

“Everything is still attached, but the cut’s deep,” you relayed to Dana, who hummed as she peeled back the towel to assess the damage.

“Your husband know you’re here?” Dana asked, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. She knew the answer based on the fact that Abbot hadn’t tore through the damn building to get to you. Yet, anyway. She more so asked to give you a chance to reflect on your dumb decision to not inform your husband.

“I don’t want to stress him out. Please don’t tell him?” You pleaded.

“I won’t say anything, but I can’t control what happens when he sees his last name on the wrong part of the status board.” Her emphasis on when made it clear that it was only a matter of time, not if.

Of course he would pick up a shift once his evening freed up. He was a workaholic, but so were you. Birds of a feather.

When Doctor Robinavitch and Javadi pulled back the room’s curtain, Dana did the talking–nausea was setting in along with a wicked headache. You refused to look at the laceration at this point, eyes trained on the ceiling tiles above you.

“BP is soft,” Robby observed. Dana nodded while holding pressure to the wound with gauze. “Let’s start some IV fluids to get it back up; you definitely had some blood loss today.” Not helping, you thought as another wave of nausea rolled through you.

“She said she doesn’t want Dr. Abbot to know, and I’m not about to get in the middle of that. Plus, provider-patient confidentiality,” Robby finished with a shrug to Dana at the nurse’s station.

“Who doesn’t want me to know what?” Abbot asked, cosmic timing seemingly on his side. He was here far earlier than he needed to be for his shift, but he had nothing better to do Better than sulking at home, missing his wife. He’d still miss her while he was working, but at least he’d have an active distraction. His grip was firm on the strap of his camo backpack slung over his shoulder.

Robby groaned and his eyes scrunched shut as he slowly turned to face the night shift attending. Dana answered the nurse’s station phone within a nanosecond of the first shrill ring, leaving Robby to fend for himself.

Abbot looked at him expectantly, his patience quickly waning. Robby shook his head and vaguely nodded his head backwards, simply sighing “room 4” before getting back to work. Jack didn’t press for more info, just crossed the Pitt with long, purposeful strides. His heart dropped and the world around him slowed when he saw his wife laying back on a gurney, hooked up to IV fluids with gauze around her hand.

He didn’t bother to knock before entering, yanking the curtain open with an abrasive tug. He immediately started scanning you head to toe and noted the color drained from your face, a bloody rag in the biohazard bin, and the remnants of a suture kit in the waste bin.

“Baby, what the hell happened?” Jack asked, wild eyes bouncing between the vitals monitor to your tired form. You squeezed her eyes shut and cursed the fact that PTMC was the closest ER to Abby’s.

“I told Robby not to call you,” you grumbled. Your husband grunted.

“He didn’t call me. I picked up a shift.” You knew Jack wasn’t upset with you directly. Seeing you in the same department where patients regularly coded and trauma alerts rolled through at light speed to the trauma bay unnerved him.

You felt a twang of guilt in your chest. Jack wouldn’t have come in on his first night off in a while if you hadn’t canceled date night. And date night wouldn’t have been canceled if you’d just been paying more attention in the kitchen. You extended your unaffected hand to your husband and he grasped it in an instant. 

His tense shoulders and tight jaw gave him away. You hated to see him needlessly stressed, but it also warmed you in an odd way—how lucky you are to have someone care for you so deeply. Someone as weathered and worn as Jack, who has seen his fair share of trauma and then some, loves you to the point of worry. What a privilege that is.

Jack’s shift technically didn’t start for another 20 minutes. He had every intention of spending those minutes right by your side.

Saved by the bell a few minutes before shift change, Robby came back in for rounds, tailed by Javadi (who, to her credit, did not pass out at the sight of copious blood flowing from your hand earlier). “Hey, love birds,” Robby greeted with a grin. Abbot’s lips stayed pressed in a thin line while you smiled weakly back at the attending and the med student who followed him around like a little duckling.

Dr. Robinavitch gestured for Javadi to present the case to Dr. Abbot. The poor girl looked like a deer caught in headlights at the harsh stare Abbot pinned her with. Her gaze bounced from your joined hands back to the attending before she cleared her throat and began. Javadi described the depth of the laceration and the amount of stitches required, topical TXA, IV fluid bolus and subsequent drip for hypotension. Jack forced air from his nose before inhaling again, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Princess will be in shortly with your discharge paperwork and home care instructions,” Robby winked as he left you and Abbot by yourselves. Jack snorted. There was no way in hell you’d be caring for the wound yourself, not if he could help it.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jack’s voice was quiet. He wasn’t mad, but rattled. You twisted your mouth to the side, feeling a bit of shame. This wasn’t how you imagined your evening going.

“Technically, I did… on my walk here…” you offered. It sounded weak even to your ears. Jack deadpanned. It didn’t land well. You sighed and rolled to face your husband fully. “I didn’t want you to worry about me,” you whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray you. Jack pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“I’m always going to worry about you, sweetheart. Because I love you.” His fingers traced your jawline. Jack, who woke up with night terrors well over a decade after the war-torn atrocities he’d seen, gazed at you tenderly. You had half a mind to make a ‘Tis but a scratch joke, but figured that might send him over the edge.

“I love you too.” It wasn’t a reply, it was a promise. Jack kissed the back of your hand, your fingers intertwined until he had to go.

Dr. Robinavitch hung around until he was satisfied with your blood pressure so he could drive you home. Even if you had politely declined, he would’ve stayed. Abbot certainly wouldn’t have let him hear the end of it if his wife had to take a taxi home from the ER. Robby guided you toward the exit, holding your bag and his. Gotta keep our patient satisfaction scores up.

Jack doffed his gloves while he jogged to meet you before you reached the door. He blindly tossed the blue nitrile gloves in the direction of the nearest waste bin, not bothering to check if he made it in. But they had, because of course they would. Cocky motherfucker.

Jack wordlessly pulled you to him, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand holding your head to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“Take it easy, okay?” The two of you could’ve been slow dancing in a burning room, but Jack wouldn’t have noticed. He tuned out the constant buzz of the Pitt and focused solely on you. You offered your free hand up for a pinkie promise.

If the med students and interns saw Dr. Abbot go soft—oh so whipped for his wife—and make a pinkie promise, they knew better than to say anything about it.

a/n: Reblogs & comments are much appreciated 🥰

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[harrysfolklore]

max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

[reginyani]

Bed Chem | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: Derek Morgan hits you up for you and Spencer Reid, a genius FBI agent, to connect. One things leads to another, and you both have really good bed chem.

warnings: 18+, mdni, nsfw, drinking at a bar, p in v, unprotected sex, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, use of y/n, spencer comes in reader (if im forgetting something let me know)

word count: 3.2k

authors note: felt like its been 20 years since i've posted a fic, but here ya guys go!! i love the song bed chem, so this fic is sabrina carpenter themed💋. i don't really like this, but its been sitting in my drafts for a while now so i hope you guys enjoy(the smut isnt my best work im sorry!). if you did, just remember to like and reblog:)!

Spencer Reid wasn’t the type to go to bars, but when the team had finally wrapped up a particularly exhausting case and a few of them decided to head out for a drink, he couldn’t exactly say no. He didn’t mind spending time with his colleagues, but when the plan shifted from the corner booth to the bar, he felt his nerves start to rise.

Derek Morgan had a gift for getting people out of their comfort zones, and today, he’d decided that Spencer was due for a little socialization. 

Spencer sat awkwardly at the far end of the bar, sipping a glass of water, watching the team interact with ease. His eyes wandered around the room, but then they unintentionally froze when they landed on you. You were sitting with a friend near the center of the bar countertop, laughing softly at something your friend had said. There was an easy, effortless charm about you that made Spencer’s heart beat a little faster.

But, as usual, he couldn’t bring himself to approach you. His mind spun with a thousand reasons why it would be awkward— why he wasn’t the right person to start a conversation. What if you didn’t like him? What if he said something weird? What if he wasn't good looking enough for you? He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, trying to shake the unease. He tended to self-sabotage things like these.

Derek, who had been watching the entire conflict play out with a grin on his face, noticed Spencer's hesitation. He chuckled to himself, shook his head, and stood up. “I’ll handle this, pretty boy.”

Spencer glanced over, his eyes wide in disbelief and embarrassment. “What are you—?”

Derek flashed a mischievous smile, already walking toward your side of the bar. “Trust me.”

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Derek in the corner of his eye approach you. He couldn’t help but watch the whole thing go down. 

Derek walked up with his signature charm and a smooth smile. “Hey, ladies,” he greeted, leaning casually against the countertop. “Mind if I join you for a second?”

You glanced up at him, surprised, but smiled politely. “Sure, go ahead.”

Derek didn’t miss a beat. “Thanks. So, I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” he said smoothly. “Especially when I’ve got a buddy over there who’s been staring at you for a while.” He pointed behind him, subtly motioning to Spencer, who was frozen in the corner of the room, clearly aware that the jig was up. Spencer immediately felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

You glanced over at Spencer, catching his eye for a moment before he quickly looked away. You raised an eyebrow. “He’s shy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Derek said with a wink. “But he’s a good guy. Just a little... socially awkward.” He chuckled. “But I think you might make him a little less awkward.”

You smiled, intrigued now. “So what’s his name?”

“Spencer Reid,” Derek said, a little too smugly. “I think you should text him. He’ll appreciate it.”

Derek pulled out a piece of paper with Spencer's number already on it, like he had already planned this the whole time. “I’ll let him know you’ve got it,” he added with a playful grin.

You looked at the number in your hand. “Well, I’ll have to think about it,” you said, teasing Derek. “But thanks for the introduction.”

With a wink, Derek gave you a nod. “Don’t keep him waiting too long,” he said before turning back toward Spencer, who was now practically melting into his seat with embarrassment.

A few minutes passed before you decided it was time to approach him. You slid off the seat and slowly walked up behind Spencer, tapping him on the shoulder. He quickly turned around, clearly startled by your sudden touch.

"Uh… Spencer, right?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He gulped before responding, staring at you for a quick second. "Yeah…" 

"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N; wanna get a drink?" You give him a friendly smile, trying to make him feel comfortable enough to come back to your side of the bar with you. 

He smiles back and nods quickly. "Yeah! Yeah... sounds good." He slides off his chair, letting you guide him back with you. You can feel his friend's eyes all on you as you walk away with him, leaving them speechless.

As you both sit down at a barstool, Spencer fidgets with his fingers rapidly. You look down to see his shaking leg and him picking his fingernails.

"Hey, it's okay. I don't bite, I promise." You chuckle, making him look up into your eyes with his own beautiful puppy eyes.

"Yeah, I know. I just… never really show my face at the bar. I'd prefer reading over this, but… here I am." he says with contempt as he slowly nods his head.

You smile, agreeing with a nod. "Yeah, me neither, to be honest. My friends dragged me out here, which I'm assuming yours did as well." you laugh.

"Yeah… but hey, I'm with you now, so…" he says, leaning his arm onto the bar countertop. You smirk.

"Your friends seem nice. How do you know them?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation as interesting as possible.

"Uh—you know... We're co-workers." He responds blandly, not wanting to reveal his place of work in case you were to get intimidated by it.

"Oh really? What do you work as?" You continue to ask him questions, pushing a response out of him. You were curious.

He hesitates a moment. "I—uh... well, I'm an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit," he finally says, taking a sip out of his drink awkwardly.

"FBI, huh?" You smirk, looking him up and down. "That's sexy. Do you carry your creds?" you ask, looking up into his eyes.

"Yeah… Uh…" his cheeks burn a crimson red as he fumbles around for a second before finally pulling out a foldable wallet. He opens it smoothly, holding it up for you to see. 

His picture looked nothing like how he does now. His hair smooth and slicked back with a side part, and a completely blank and pale face. 

"How many years ago was that picture taken?" you chuckle, scanning it one last time before he flips it over to see himself. 

"A long time ago." He laughs, his voice softening as he closes the wallet and slides it back into his pocket. "I should probably get it updated, huh?"

 

You tilt your head playfully, taking another sip from your alcoholic beverage. "I don't know, I think it's cute. Kind of shows how far you've come and grown." 

Spencer blinks, not expecting the compliment. He adjusts his tie nervously, his fingers brushing over the fabric. "Thank you. That's... nice of you to say."

You lean in slightly, resting your chin in your hand. "So, Spencer Reid, FBI agent," you say, your voice teasing yet warm at the same time. "What's something you don't know everything about?"

He chuckles, his lips twitching into a shy smile. "Plenty of things, actually. You'd be surprised at how much I still have to learn."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like what?"

He pauses for a second, as if genuinely thinking about your question. "Well… I've never really been good at small talk," he admits, sheepishly smiling. "Or, uh, anything involving this…" he gestures vaguely between the two of you, his cheeks flushing again.

You laugh softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. "I don't think you're doing too bad." you assure him. "And for the record, I'm not much of a fan of small talk either. Let's skip it—tell me something real about you."

Spencer quirks an eyebrow at your directness, but there's something about your tone that puts him at ease. "Okay, something real about me…" He thinks for a second. "I have an IQ of 187, have an eidetic memory, and can read up to 20,000 words per minute, but sometimes I wish I could slow down, y'know?"

You blink, completely shocked by this brand new information. "I— No… I don't know." You laugh, still completely taking it in. "That's... insane," you finally manage, shaking your head in disbelief. "187 IQ? You're like, literally a genius."

Spencer tilts his head a bit, clearly a bit embarrassed by your reaction. "Well, technically, yeah. But it's not as impressive as people think. It just means I remember a lot of things. Well… everything."

You grin, leaning a little closer. "Okay, Mr. Modest. If you're so smart, hit me with a scientific fact. Blow my mind." 

Spencer's lips quirk into a shy smile, but there's a glint of mischief in his eyes now. He pauses for a moment, as if sorting through the thousands of facts stored in his mind. He looks directly at you, his voice soft but steady.

"Did you know," he begins, "that during intense physical contact, your brain releases tons of chemicals, including dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphins, which heighten pleasure and create emotional bonding?"

You blink, the corners of your mouth twitching upward as the suggestive undertone sinks in. "Intense physical contact, huh?" you repeat, tilting your head at him with that same smirk on your face. "That’s a pretty specific fact to share."

Spencer's eyes widen, his mind now racing and wondering if maybe you took that fact to offense. "I just meant… It's a common and well-documented physiological response. I wasn't implying—" 

You laugh at his fumbling words, cutting him off before he goes and spirals even further. "Relax, Spencer. I'm just teasing you." You lean back, taking another sip of your drink, your eyes twinkling. "But hey, maybe we can test that out sometime." 

His mouth opens, seemingly caught off guard. He looks at you, not sure whether you're joking or not. "Uh… yeah," he says, barely audible. "Maybe."

You smile, tilting your head a bit. "Hey, wanna get out of here? Maybe go to my place? We can call a taxi," you say suddenly, finally finishing your espresso martini and putting the glass down with a clink.

He hesitates for a second, looking back at his coworkers with an open mouth. "Uh… Yeah, sure. I don't see why not." 

The ride back to your apartment is quiet at first, with Spencer sitting stiffly beside you in the back of the taxi, his hands fidgeting in his lap. You can practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of him, and it makes you smile.

"You alright over there, genius?" you ask softly, tilting your head over to look at him.

"Yeah," he says quickly, too quickly. He clears his throat and glances at you, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile. "Sorry. This is just… not exactly something I usually do."

You nod slowly in understanding, trying your best to make his discomfort fade away. "No judgment. I don't either, to be honest, but you seemed too interesting to leave back at the bar."

This earns a laugh out of him, and his shoulders relax a bit. "Well, uh… thanks." 

When the taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building, you pay the driver and lead Spencer upstairs. He follows closely behind, his eyes darting around as he takes in his surroundings.

"This is a nice apartment complex," he says as you unlock the door and step inside, gesturing for him to follow.

"Thanks," you say, flicking the lights on and setting down your bag on a nearby chair. You toe off your shoes and look back at him. "Make yourself comfortable." 

Spencer hesitates for a moment before awkwardly shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. He stands there for a second, unsure of what to do, until you notice and step towards him.

"You don't have to look so nervous, y'know," you tease gently.

"I'm not nervous," he replies, though the slight tremor in his voice was surely nervousness. 

You tilt your head, studying him. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" 

His lip stretches into an upward shy smile.

"So I've been told," he admits.

You laugh softly at his words, and you gesture towards the couch. "Sit down. Do you want something to drink?"

He shakes his head, making his way to the couch and sitting on it stiffly. "I'm alright. Thanks."

You sit down beside him, close enough to brush shoulders but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. For a moment, there's silence, and then you glance up at him with a playful smile.

"So… want to share another one of those scientific facts of yours?" you ask, leaning slightly closer to him.

Spencer chuckles, his shoulders loosening as he meets your gaze. "Only if you're ready for it." 

"I'm ready," you say, settling in and giving him your undivided attention.

He thinks for a moment, then smirks slightly as he chooses one. "Did you know that the human brain processes the sensation of touch faster than almost any other sensory input? It’s why even the lightest touch can feel so intense."

You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips curving upward. "Is that so?"

He nods, his confidence growing as he begins to explain. "It’s because of specialized nerve ending called mechanoreceptors. They send signals to your brain almost immediately, making touch one of the most primal and powerful ways to communicate."

You hold his gaze, letting your hand grab his cheek. Now your voice is soft but laced with curiosity. "And what exactly do you think touch is communicating right now?" 

His breath hitches slightly, his gaze flickering down to your arm as it reaches his face.

"I think," he says, his voice quieter now, "it’s.. saying a lot."

"Good," you murmur, leaning in just a little closer, "because I think I like what it’s saying."

Spencer’s eyes meet yours, wide and full of something you can’t quite put into words. And for the first time all night, he doesn’t hesitate, and in one swift motion, his lips are crashing into yours.

  The kiss started off soft and warm but quickly grew heated. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You could practically feel his nervousness melting away as you two continued, replaced by confidence. Gone was the shy, awkward man from the bar.

You tilt your own head, your fingers sliding up to his head, tangling in his soft hair. Spencer's breath hitched at your touch, and he let out a quiet whine that sent shivers down your spine. For someone who looked and sounded to be inexperienced, he sure as hell didn't make it seem like that.

When you both pulled away, it wasn't forced, it was synchronized. You searched his face, cheeks flushed with a deep pink, and his eyes watery as he stared into yours. 

You both stood up from off the couch and pressed your lips together once again. But this time, it was slower, as you savored the way his hands gripped your hips.

 

Spencer broke the kiss this time, looking at you before saying, "Where's your bedroom?" You smirk, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bedroom before slamming the door shut. 

When you both finally make it to your bed, you lay down, him on top of you as his lips trail down your jaw to your neck. "God, you drive me insane, Y/N." He murmurs, his words muffled against your skin.

You tilt your head back, groaning as his lips continue to work against your skin. "Fuck, Spencer…" 

His hands fumble around your body until his fingers finally catch onto the zipper of your dress. His fingers quickly move to unzip it, then skillfully move to take the straps off your shoulders. You whine in disappointment as he takes his lips off of your neck to slide the dress down your body and off at your legs. He throws it somewhere on the floor before quickly going back to press his lips to yours.

You squirm as his fingers graze over your lace panties, practically teasing you in a place you need him most.

"Spencer…" you let out, huffing audibly. He quirks an eyebrow, the erection in his pants growing by the second.

"Yes, baby?" he coos, his fingers continuing to trace circles on your panties.

"I need you..." You whisper, embarrassed at your own neediness. He smirks, pretending to not hear you.

"You what? I need you to speak up for me," he teases, and this drives you mad. 

"I need you!" You yell in desperation, tired of the teasing. "I want you to… fuck me," you mumble, looking up into his eyes.

"Didn't exactly take you as a begger, Y/N," he snickers, continuing to look down on you. "But all you had to do was ask." His hands swiftly move to his pants, quickly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. He pulls them down, still stuck on his thighs.

He looks down and slowly moves your panties to the side. "Already wet, huh?" he teases. He then grabs your legs and swings them over his shoulders. "Ready?" he asks softly. You nod your head, squinting your eyes shut. 

When the tip of his cock hits your entrance, you squirm slightly, getting out a small whimper. "Oh, god…" you murmur.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he slams into you, making you let out a loud yelp as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you with swift movements. He groans, the feeling of your warm pussy making him throw his own head back. 

"Holy shit… you're so tight, baby…" he says breathlessly, the loud sounds of heavy breathing and clapping filling your bedroom. "Look at me," he demands. "I want to see those pretty eyes of yours."

You follow his command, your watery eyes looking into his wide brown eyes. "Fuck, Spencer… right there!" you're practically yelling at this point.

Both of your bodies are moving at the same time, practically glued together, stuck together like magnets as your body bounced on his cock. Your hands gripped your baby pink sheets harshly, knuckles turning white as you arched your back.

"Sweet girl… 'm going to come." he warns, breaking eye contact with you to throw his head back once again.

You finally feel relieved, knowing you were chasing your own high. "'M almost there, baby. Oh, god…" your voice cracking between each word, warning him of your own orgasm.

As you begin to rock your hips, you finally moan, "Come inside me, baby! Please, yes, please!" and that, finally drives him over the edge. 

As your body starts to give out, you and Spencer release at the same time. Feeling the warmth of his release spilling inside of you as you both moaned in one synchronized motion, making your own orgasm feel even better.

When he finally pulls out, his body collapses next to you, both of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath. You turn your head to look over at him, smiling softly.

"Well, I guess you can say you seduced me with your scientific facts," you admit, laughing lazily, which earns one out of him as well.

tags:

[yanderestarangel]

★ ! hidden desires — stalker!bruce wayne x male reader

a/n: This is a repost! The first post has been taken down ( by tumblr itself lol); sorry and thanks for letting me know.

♡⁠┊tw: stalking, suggestive behavior, fingering, casual sex, v! sex, ftm reader, sex with a condom, afab anatomy, blowjob.

Each time he remembered what he had done—stalking you for weeks from the shadows like the nocturnal creature he was—a strange sense of shame settled in his chest. He used his shadowy vigilante persona to justify his unhealthy obsession, but even that excuse felt hollow.

He kept insisting to himself, "It's just for his safety." However, the heat in his groin wouldn't let him pretend otherwise — standing in the rain and cold nights by the window in the building above your house... But lying and manipulating to get into your life and home was not something he usually did.

That night, you'd gone out to the club. People were whispering about a new drug called "Bliss" and some underworld drama involving Sofia Falcone, while the red lights of the club mixed with your carefree expression, oblivious to Gotham's lurking dangers.

Wayne, however, was watching you as always—from afar, waiting for the right moment to act.

He wasn’t oblivious; his glances at a few attractive men at the party hadn’t escaped the dark gaze of the guard’s blue irises. He knew his obsession with you had gone too far, yet he ignored the rational alarms ringing in his mind—and started toward you.

It hadn’t been very difficult for him to get into his pants and into his home, and, to be honest, he didn’t know whether to feel angry or surprised. Perhaps it was a bittersweet mixture he’d reflect on only after leaving the apartment, since, after all, his blood wasn’t exactly rushing to his head.

You whispered a question, asking his name, but his hands were too focused on exploring your body.

"Bruce," he growled, finally breaking the silence. "My name is Bruce." The words came out more tense than he’d anticipated, and he silently prayed you wouldn’t ask anything else—or recognize him as one of Gotham’s elusive big shots.

Bruce’s fingers pressed deeper into your warm, slick heat, curling just right against that sensitive spot that made you see stars. He felt you tighten around him, your body responding to every stroke. With an added finger, he stretched you gently, preparing you for more. His thumb found your clit, drawing tight, deliberate circles as he drove you closer to the edge with relentless precision.

Bruce murmured, "So tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me," his voice thick with desire. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, while his fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you. He felt the tremors in your body, heard your breathy moans, each sound and movement pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Come on my fingers like a good boy."

And you did, your walls clenching around him as you cried out in pleasure. Bruce guided you through it, prolonging your orgasm and drawing every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering form.

When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, Wayne withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring your taste and scent. It was so sweet and erotic that he felt his cock throb, and all the rationality and chivalry that defined his persona went out the window.

Quickly, the rest of your clothes were removed, and the man with black eye shadow sat on your bed, spreading his thighs and inviting you to suck his cock — a command you immediately obeyed. The sight of you on your knees, your plump lips stretched around his shaft, was almost too much for him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head as you moved up and down, taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, his hips rocking forward to meet your eager tongue. "Just like that, atta boy... Take it all."

He could feel you gagging around him, could hear the wet, obscene sounds of your slurping and sucking. It was music to his ears—a symphony of pleasure that nearly undid him. His other hand found your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulled you closer, pressing his cock deeper down your throat. He could feel you struggling to breathe, could see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but he didn't relent.

"Look at me... I want to see your eyes when you choke on my cock."

He commanded, holding your gaze as you struggled to comply, your eyes watering as you fought for air. But you didn’t pull away or tap out; instead, you leaned in, taking him even deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis. He was so close to climax, but he held back, wanting to savor this intense connection, feeling your body fully aligned with his.

"No fuck... not yet..." He grunted hoarsely taking his mouth off his cock as he shook trying to hold back his orgasm. "On your hands and knees, now." He ran his hands over your smooth skin, caressing your curves, your softness, a stark contrast to his own hard planes. He was prepared that night, carrying a condom in his jacket pocket, even though he thought the chances of him touching you were zero... Well, apparently not. He positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

With a slow thrust, he pushed forward, breaking your tight heat. He groaned at the sensation, at the way your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him deeper. He watched his cock disappear inside you, your tight heat enveloping him completely. He could feel every twitch, every pulse of your walls around him, could see the way your body yielded to his, taking him deeper and deeper.

But despite the overwhelming sensations, he remained silent, unsure of how to express the depth of his desire, the intensity of his need. He'd never been good with words, had always been better with actions, with his fists, with his body. You tried to talk to him, however Bruce's hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the slap echoing in the room. He watched as you jolted forward, your back arching, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Shh... Don't talk. Just feel." He punctuated his command with another slap, his fingers digging into the reddening flesh of your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you with renewed vigor. Wayne watched as you came undone beneath him, your body shaking, your walls clenching around his cock. He could feel your release coating his shaft, could hear your sweet whimpers filling the room.

And then he was coming too, his orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He buried himself deep inside you, his hips grinding against your ass as he filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. For a long moment, he simply held you, savoring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the racing of your heart.

He wasn't used to this, to the intimacy, to the vulnerability. He was better at fighting, at brooding, at being alone... Stalking you was a different thing than finally having you, and he felt no shame in having lied. So he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom before rolling off the bed. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I...I should go," he mumbled, not quite meeting your eyes. "I have work to do... It was cool..."

He grabbed his clothes, dressing quickly, efficiently. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to bridge the gap between what had just happened and what came next... He was used to being your stalker, but now his brain couldn't function after finally getting what he wanted: you.

But he was sure of something, the feeling became more fixed in his chest... He was more addicted in you.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[batshit-auspol]

So a bit of background first for our international followers: Clive Palmer is one of Australia's many mining billionaires who like to meddle in our country's politics, and as such he is utterly despised by all of Australia.

Picture for context:

He is most commonly known online by the title "Fatty McFuckhead", (problematic as it may be) because he tried to sue a youtuber for $500,000 for calling him that - and he lost. So the name stuck.

Up until his most recent foray into parliament, the legally certified Fuckhead was best known for his batshit business ventures, such as attempting to build "The Titanic 2" (failed) and trying to build a dinosaur theme park (also failed, but at least nobody got eaten by a T-Rex in this one).

For a very long time Clive played the role of sugar daddy to Australia's largest conservative party, the ironically named Liberal Party, until they had a falling out in 2012 after Clive claimed there was too much money influencing politics (lol), at which point he started his own party, days after saying he totally quit and wasn't fired and he only left because he didn't want to be a distraction.

His initial run at parliament was actually kinda successful, with Palmer's group winning 4 seats, plus a member from the "Motoring Enthusiasts Party" joined them too after accidentally getting elected and not knowing what the fuck to do.

Despite this initial success however, Palmer's party (which ran on basically no platform other than "I'm rich") hit an iceberg (titanic 2 achieved) and seven elected state and federal politicians quit within the first year.

By the time the next federal election rolled around, only one Palmer party candidate was still running for re-election. The most successful of this group - Jaquie Lambie - quit to sit as an independant and is still in parliament today.

Here she is with a painting of herself strangling Clive (she sells signed copies of this)

And here the senator is posting about liking sausage:

Anyway, we're getting to the point: which is the yellow posters. By the 2016 election, just two years after forming, the party was in complete freefall. It won just 0.01% of the vote at their second election, and it was announced shortly after that Clive was quitting politics and the party was being shut down. Australia breathed a sigh of relief.

It was, of course, short lived.

Clive, in desperate need of attention, restarted the party for the 2019 election, fielding candidates in every seat and spending $60 million in advertising in an attempt to win votes.

Every single candidate lost.

It was in this campaign however that Australia really started to fall out of love with Palmer, because most of that $60 million went towards putting up the world's least compelling marketing billboards on almost every single free space in the country.

For a good six months this was basically the only thing you would see in Australia if you went outside:

Clearly Graphic design is his passion. And yes, the genius did just straight up try and copy Trump's homework while changing a few words, hoping nobody would notice.

Very quickly these all got vandalised and it seemed the ad companies didn't care enough to replace them.

We could go on posting examples, there are thousands, but the best is definitely the one Ikea put up shortly after Clive lost the election:

In 2022, Clive's party contested the election AGAIN, this time also opting to send millions on spam text messages to every person in Australia begging for people to vote for him, as well as buying almost every youtube ad for a year, at the cost of $100 million.

He won a whopping one seat.

During this election Clive ran on an anti-lockdown, anti-vax platform with the slogan "freedom, freedom, freedom". That message, however, was slightly undermined when his goons, dressed in 'Freedom!' shirts, made national news for trying to beat up a protester who turned up at a rally dressed as an annoying text message, shouting "pay your workers" at Clive.

As if that wasn't bad enough, at another rally Clive knocked himself unconscious while trying to jump up on stage, and then a few weeks later was rushed to hospital with covid, while his anti-vax ads were still in regular rotation on TV, at which point it was also leaked to the press that Palmer had been alledgedly trying to buy Hitler's car.

Utterly humiliated, the party deregistered again shortly after the election.

Can't wait until he runs again in 2025.

Anyway, on the other "Clive tweeting Miss Kobayashi's Dragon" thing, we have no idea what that means but here's a screencap:

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[zolass]

Sharing A Bed

Bottom Male Reader (?) x Top Male Oc

It's been a hot minute since I posted like an actual lil piece I've been so focused on reading Manhwas and drawing because I simply enjoy it and I burned out with writing.

This is more of a thanks for sticking around and a welcome to the new followers <3 I also see the requests but I don't want to really ruin a good request by half assed writing from my part. I see y'all so don't feel discouraged by my silence I appreciate you guys!

Also for this one, it's just some fluff and it's not meant to be long, but I would definitely revisit Cecil again in the future just like some of ppl's fav's (from comments and req's) and fyi I never went to college or plan to- so idfk how it works and I only use the knowledge I have from literally reading. And idk if there's some trauma to the bed behavior that this is build upon, if so I'm sorry it wasn't intentional. The lil quirk suddenly popped up in my head so yea.

There's probably typos that I'm too lazy to fix

(I thought abt adding Tags but I'm so clueless ngl) but I can tag one person and one person only: @carnalcrows

tw: none (?)

1k words

Sharing a bed wasn’t really something you had on your ‘bucket-list’ even if it was almost an everyday situation for a lot of people. Except for you, even as a child when a nightmare plagued you – your parents only allowed to sit next to your bed.

You loved your parents and they loved you and still do. So they always respected your wishes when it came to small things like this. Nobody knew exactly why the uncomfortable squirm and visage you would pull whenever the topic ‘sharing a bed’ came up.

Sleep overs with friends. You slept alone even if it was on the ground with your blanket and pillow.

A school trip, bunkbeds but if there was even the slightest hint of having to share the small space with another classmate? You rather slept on an airmattress and gave them the bed.

Everyone questioned at first, even you did – whispers and odd looks, but after some time people accepted that about you. Saying it was a little quirk of yours. It wasn’t like you hated any physical contact, no you were alright with hugs, handshakes and these sorts of things you normally encounter during your life and friendgroups.

Then college came around, your life opened up another path as you wanted to finish a major before you would travel around – just as compromised with your parents.

First college and then the fun.

Living your campus live in a dorm was – interesting for you but you managed until your last year when there was suddenly a change. You got a new dorm and roommate, that was the first time you saw him. Lazing on his bed, on the left side of the dorm, phone in hand and only sweats in the damned heat of summer.

Your eyes met, while giving each other a simple greeting and then both of you went to do your own stuff. Of course you found out what his name was, after you introduced yourself to each other, after you finished your side of the dorm.

Cecil Vicente.

That day was the beginning of where you found a new friend, a talker and listener but also comfort. Despite the different interests in a lot of things, as time passed Cecil hovered around you more and more, except even your roommate wasn’t allowed to sit on your bed.

Summer passed and autumn quickly followed.

Winter hit, with a drop in temperature and a sudden fall of snow over night, turning everything into a powdery white dream. Cecil and you spent still a lot of time together even after so many months and it did spark happiness inside of you that Cecil still spared so much time to care for your friendship, despite the other male being rather popular around campus.

The weekend came around quickly, with you laying in bed as the sun dipped behind the horizon, “Hey Y/n,” your eyes focused on the brunette standing by the entrance door. “Are you sure you don’t want to join?” tapping your pen on the wooden desk, you first didn’t find your voice, shaking your head before adding a polite “no thanks,” and a smile.

Cecil threw you a smile back, “If you need something, just call me and I’ll come as fast as I can,” were his last words before he stepped out of the door, towards a gathering or rather college party. This was another thing you weren’t hyped about.

Slowly hours passed by and you found yourself in your bed, comfortable in simple pajama pants. The sky has turned dark while snow fell, your eyes were focused on the rather large window between the two beds, which showed the light of the city and the snow falling.

Blanket pulled up to rest just below your collarbone, with your feet tucked between the last bit of the blanket, while the drowsiness slowly kicked in. Just as you were to fall asleep, the door to your dorm opened and someone stumbled in.

Of course you knew who that someone was, but you decided to make a comment as Cecil quickly picked up that he was rather loud for this time and continued his doings more quietly. Shoes were placed by the entrance followed by the jacket and soon the rustling of clothes was heard in the rather silent dorm.

Your eyes closed again and you snuggled yourself into the warmth of your blanket, which then was suddenly ripped from your hands and lifted. Eyes flying open, you stared into the person hovering over you.

Through the light that came in through the window, you could make out the slight furrow of Cecil’s brows. Before you could ask what was wrong, said male suddenly dropped onto your bed – his larger body covering half of yours, with his face sinking into your nape and an arm thrown over your waist.

It happened rather fast – without notice or warning.

Your mouth fell open, and closed like a fish as you tried to find your voice, “Wha-” your voice was higher pitched, but Cecil cut you off, “Just this once – please,” he pleaded softly against your ear, his hot breath caressing your ear.

But in the end your shoulders slumped, while your free hand nervously wrapped around Cecil’s forearm that laid over you. It was the first time you shared a bed and your heart was pounding erratically in your chest. Despite this you didn’t feel uncomfortable which surprised you.

Listening in to the evened breathing of Cecil, you were rather unsure of moving so you laid rather stiff in your own bed, before you closed your eyes and fell asleep soon after, with warm and heavy feeling of Cecil by your side.

Without knowing that the same man noticed your body relax as you fell asleep in his embrace. Making a small smile form on his lips, while his own heart started to beat faster with your warm breath brushing against his own skin.

“Please let this night never end.”

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi girlie! Can you write something about baby daddy Rafe? Set in a FWB universe and reader ends up pregnant because he loves c*ming inside her? Love your works they keep me up at night in the best way 🤭🤍

➤ w/c: 0.9k

➤ warnings: smut at the beginning, unprotected sex, fwb (kinda?)

➤ a/n: hey, love❤️ I wasn't sure whether you wanted them to end up together or not, so I made something in between. I got inspired and wrote another part for this one, which I may post later, but I'm open to changing/adding something if y'all have any ideas.

masterlist

“Rafe… we shouldn’t do this— ah, fuck, please!” You cried out, your back arching from the bed, seeking more attention from his lips to your sensitive nipples. 

“I can’t stop. It’s gonna be okay, just one time, baby.” He grumbled, sucking in your skin. Rafe was pounding into your poor body without any mercy; he was too excited to be bare inside of you for the first time. 

When you came to his place, you two quickly found out that you ran out of condoms that were usually stacked on his bedside table, but you were too far gone to stop it. You were naked, your pussy was leaking with arousal, his dick was so painfully hard and it was hard to think straight. You didn’t want to stop and Rafe managed to convince you to let him fuck you raw. 

You knew how fucking stupid you were and that he might easily get you pregnant, but at that exact moment, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his bare cock. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. I wanna cum inside of your pretty pussy. Shit—you're squeezing me so hard, you like this idea, hm?” He kept slapping his hips against yours harder and harder, causing you to moan in despair and grip his shoulders. You tried to say no, but, in all honesty, you didn’t want to. The stretch was so delicious, and the feeling of his cock filling you completely made you feel dizzy. And having him cum inside? You could have an orgasm just thinking about it. 

No more than thirty seconds later, when you finally reached your height, his cock twitched inside and Rafe let out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard. You felt liquid warmth covering your inside and moaned, squeezing and milking everything he could have you. 

You were playing with fire and it was just a matter of time before everything would go wrong. No matter how stupid and reckless it was, you didn’t stop. Rafe was now obsessed with the feeling of being inside of you without a barrier; he could not help himself when he had you spread out in front of him, ready to be filled. 

It was the best feeling that both of you experienced, but for some reason, you didn’t even try to find another form of contraception. You should have known better. You should have insisted on protection, but there was something intoxicating about the way he took you—the way he groaned your name as he filled you up. It was reckless, dangerous, and oh-so-addictive.

So it was not that big of a surprise when, just two months later, you saw two lines on the test. 

You weren’t dating, even if it has always felt like much more than just sex, so you never expected Rafe to be happy about the possibility of having a baby. You thought he would end everything immediately and simply run away. Yet he was the complete opposite. 

During your pregnancy, Rafe never left your side and made sure to attend every medical appointment, buy every single vitamin and satisfy all of your cravings.

You wanted to eat some weird shit from the store at 2am? He brought it to you in less than twenty minutes. Your body was aching and you didn’t want to do anything? He organised a spa day for you. You had terrible mood swings and cried every ten minutes? He was patient and he did everything he could to make you feel better. 

You quickly fell into that kind of domestic routine. It was comfortable, and it felt right to have him beside you all the time. While your baby was growing inside of you, you both realised more with every passing day that the feelings that you two had were serious. Because you were on each other’s mind’s 24/7, you stayed in yours or his place all the time, and you couldn’t just keep your hands away. 

When Rafe first felt your baby kick, he was over the moon and he had the biggest smile on his face. He repeatedly kissed your belly before falling asleep with his head on your thighs and his hand on your bump. 

As soon as your little girl arrived in the world, Rafe completely fell into daddy mode. He was fussing over her, insisting on spending as much time with her as possible. He never complained when he had to change her diapers or wake up in the middle of the night because of her cries.

He is such a girl dad, and the moment she looked at him with her blue eyes, he was wrapped around her tiny finger. 

Rafe loves being a dad; he loves taking care of his girls, even if you are still not officially his. He makes sure to do everything to make you feel comfortable and give you enough rest. 

He may not be perfect in it, but he’s trying his best and he hasn’t regretted ever getting into this with you. 

[demonpiratehuntress]

before you (Straw Hats + Ace, Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - they find out you had a crush on someone else on the crew/someone they know before them

warnings - none

a/n - one energy drink later, i have three posts out...oh well, i'm not complaining

ZORO

Honestly, he didn't even care.

Until he learned who it was, that is.

"You had a crush on WHO?!" Is what the rest of the crew woke up to one day. You tried your best to hush him, saying that everyone's sleeping, but he was having a meltdown.

A few minutes later, when everyone was piling into the kitchen for breakfast, eyes still losing remnants of sleepiness, they saw the swordsman sitting at the table, one blade ominously on his lap.

"Uh, Zoro?" Usopp laughed nervously, putting Sanji between himself and Zoro. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to talk to Luffy," came the steely, scary calm response.

"Me?" The captain blinked. "What did I do?"

You stood at the back of the group, rubbing your temples. Bickering with Zoro had taken a lot out of you, the stubborn swordsman refusing to accept the fact that your crush on Luffy was in the past.

"Let's go," Nami was the first to leave, deciding that whatever it was could stay between the two arguably strongest members of the group. Then she seemed to realise that, and froze. "Actually, absolutely not."

But before she could get to either one of them, Zoro demonstrated just what had made him so frightening to pirates and lunged at Luffy with inhuman speed. Which resulted in him chasing the captain around the Going Merry, yelling at him and slashing with his sword - possibly taking a hair off Luffy's head.

"WHAT DID I DO?!"

ACE

When you revealed that you used to have a - harmless, innocent, you added - crush on Marco, Ace immediately wanted to throw himself overboard. He's so dramatic, acting like you stabbed him in the back, pouting for the rest of the day.

When anyone asked him what was wrong, he crossed his arms, huffed, and said, "Ask (Name), the traitor."

You just sighed, explaining that he's upset over something you said. But then moments later, Marco appeared and Ace practically glowers in his direction, mini flames burning in his eyes.

"Will you calm down!" You exclaimed, putting yourself between the two of them as Ace raised a flame-engulfed hand.

Marco raised an eyebrow, "What's with him now?"

"Nothing!" You assured him, then turned your gaze on Ace, an intense look in your eyes, "Right, Ace? We're all fine."

"...Right," he murmured, extinguishing his ball of fire. He looked away, refusing to even glance in Marco's direction now. He crossed his thick arms over his bare chest, grumbling under his breath.

Marco eyed him warily, but walked away without questioning Ace's odd behaviour further. No one could ever explain it anyway.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Ace, look at me."

"No."

"Ace!"

"No!"

Giving up, you just wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, pressing featherlight kisses to his shoulder. When his body visibly relaxed, you grinned.

"...I hate when you do that," he mumbled, annoyance fading quickly.

"Liar, you love it."

LAW

Law offered you a...blank look. This information was not exactly new to him. He had already known, after all he'd been there to witness it. He just wondered why you found it necessary to tell him about it, especially when it wasn't relevant to him at all.

The changes were subtle, but you started noticing them as the days passed by. Penguin's workload increased, he was told to do more chores, and Law even gave into some of the other crew's demands - which were made to tease Penguin - to make Penguin do their chores.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" You heard him asking Shachi and Bepo one day, panic in his voice.

You made your way to Law's quarters, knocking before you stepped inside, "Is there a reason that Penguin seems to be doing half the crew's work recently?"

For a brief, imperceptible moment, Law tensed. Then he regained his composure, and spoke without lifting his eyes from his work, "I don't know what you mean, (Name)-ya."

"I think you do," you walked over, standing right beside him. "And it's not his fault."

"Of course not. He simply volunteered to assist other crewmembers."

You sighed, shaking your head, "So it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I used to have a crush on him before I started liking you?"

Again, that barely-noticeable tension, before the calm returned, "You did? Fascinating." His tone was dry, and you found it incredible that he could deny what was so obvious while simultaneously insulting you with a sarcastic remark.

"But I told you-"

"When? I don't recall."

You sighed. This man was impossible.

LUFFY

Luffy burst out laughing, unfazed by your admission. Oh, you had a crush on Usopp before you started liking him? No problem! What could he do about it? It was in the past, no sense dwelling on it.

"Uh...are you sure, Luffy?" You raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed that he wasn't more worked up about it.

"Yes!" The captain beamed. "You're mine now, right? It doesn't matter!"

While his logic was absolutely flawless, for once since you'd met him, you were bewildered. He was so calm about this, remaining cheerful despite you telling him you liked another crewmember once.

But over the next few days, there were signs that it affected him more than you thought. Usopp was suddenly sitting way across from you at the table, never volunteered to pair up with you when you split into groups at nearby islands, and always avoided eye contact when you spoke to him - though you later found out he was just watching out for the captain.

"Luffy!" You called, after getting sick of Usopp's hesitance to be anywhere near you alone, even on the ship.

"Yes, (Name)?" Your boyfriend smiled innocently, though that might have been because he either forgot what he did, or he didn't see anything wrong with it.

"Why is Usopp behaving like that?" You asked him. "Is this because of what I told you?"

Luffy laughed, shaking his head, "No, I'm sure it's just because he's not feeling well!"

"Uh huh..."

Luffy extended his arms to grab you, pulling you onto Merry's figurehead with him, "Let's stop talking about Usopp."

His tone left no room for argument.

SANJI

One would think that you had just broken up with him, or beat him over the head with a wooden plank severely. The chef was laying on the floor, after having passed out, now crying rivers.

"Sanji-" You began, but didn't know what to tell him.

"My heart!" He wailed, "How could you do this to me, my sweet (Name)?!"

"What did you do?" Nami asked you, laughing.

"I just told him that I used to like Zoro," you sighed, "And now he won't stop saying that I broke his heart."

Chopper went to check on Sanji, worried that you revelation might have actually impacted him - only to find out that Sanji was, in fact, just being overly dramatic.

"Sanji-" You started again.

"Noooo!" He cried, pouting. "It hurts too much!"

"Get over yourself, idiot," Zoro grumbled, "It's not like she still has those feelings."

That seemed to snap Sanji out of it, because then he was on his feet and he kicked the swordsman through the wall. Usopp screamed and rushed to inspect the damage, while you gave Nami one look and she broke the fight up by twisting both their ears like they were little kids, until they apologised.

USOPP

He was devastated. Because what do you mean you used to like Sanji???? What do you mean you had a crush on the most romantic, most flirtatious Straw Hat????? He almost passed out, but ended up crying instead.

And then he tried to take Sanji out - the sniping kind.

"Usopp!" You laughed when you saw him take aim at the chef while he was cooking. "Stop that!"

He stopped, standing up straight and hiding his slingshot behind his back, trying to look innocent, as if he hadn't just been attempting to assassinate the blonde cook.

You assumed that was the last of it, as you had assured him your crush on Sanji was in the past, and would never resurface again.

Then you heard screaming, a loud bang, and a frustrated yell.

When you got to where the commotion was, the rest of the crew was there. Luffy and Zoro were laughing, because Sanji's hair was standing up in all different directions, his face looking like he'd put it near a bomb.

Or like a bomb had exploded near him...

"Usopp!" You yelled, "Why did you do that?! I mean, I know why, but I thought we were over this!"

"I'm satisfied now," he said proudly, walking away.

Sanji tried to go after him, but Nami helped you out by stopping him - she actually just wanted an excuse to hit him.

There was never a dull day with the Straw Hat crew.

[thedevilsoftruth]

The winter soldier making you squirt multiple times and getting mean and rough when you whine about the overstimulation? Cuz baby he ain't doing this for you, he's doing it for himself.

(I'm a whore for him🙏)

Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request. This one is super juicy, and I apologize if I added something's you don't really like. Ive been having a tough day and got a bit carried away writing this. Oops. Also I apologize for getting to this so late!!! - Mama Devil 💜

Pretty when you cry.

Dark!Winter Solider x f! Reader

Smut tags: bucky being a mean dom, d/s dynamic, bdsm elements, slapping, spanking, punishment, making you count, inappropriate usage of a belt, multiple orgasms, squirting, orgasm denial, overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, reader calls bucky 'sir', cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit, name calling (whore, fucktoy) piv sex, rough sex, rope burns, reader pretty much sobs the entire time... Like. She cries a lot. This is kinda dark, and if you aren't into bdsm I wouldn't recommend reading this!! not beta read.

W/c - 1.5 K

Song recommended - Pretty When You Cry by Vast.

I do NOT consent to my work being reposted or translated onto any website!

MDNI! I am NOT responsible for what you find on the internet!

[my request box is open. PLEASE see my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules!]

Your mind is cloudy, your nose stuff, your throat burning and your chest tightening from all of the crying you had been doing. When he had first started, the sun was still up. Now it's pitch black and raining outside. But the rain wouldn't be heard over your loud sniffles and quiet moans as he stuffed his fingers back into you for the sixth time that night. It was just too much. Your hips were jerking, your legs squirming everywhere, and your pussy absolutely pulsing a curled his thick, cold metal fingers halfway into your sloppy pussy.

You felt like you couldn't breathe. Sweaty palms reached out for his leather clad torso, your hips backing and dipping into the wet mattress as if you were trying to get away from him. A flash of anger spread across his face, and he growled as he withdrew his finger from you and slapped the inside of your thigh harsh. The skin where he hit was red in the matter of seconds, and so were his hands on your jaw and on your stomach.

"Stop fucking moving." He spat, his tone so angry that it made you believe he hated you.

"Sir," you stuttered through a sob, your voice cracked from how bad your throat hurt. The sobs quickly turn back into moans when his hands were back on your pussy.

"Stop, please." Your breath shook as he circled a metal finger around your impossibly wet entrance. "'s to much, sir, i--"

He pushed into you fast and hard with no warning. You yelped.

"Does my little whore want to be restrained again?" He asks smoothly and calmly as he licks a fat strip down the back of your ear. You shuddered, the skin on your wrists burning just at the thought of the thick black ropes he used on you earlier being around your arms again.

"No, sir." You mutter In defeat.

You didn't even know why you had even asked.

"That's what I thought. Now be a good little whore and take it."

His fingers went back into you in fast thrusts. His teeth sunk into the crook of your neck, and his metal thumb curled harsh, unrelenting circles around your throbbing clit.

You gasped, repeatedly, and your hips stuttered into his hand while your walls pulsated and clenched around him uncontrollably. Hot tears ran down your cheeks harder while he moved against you even harder. You couldn't take it. The overstimulation was too much.

So, your little pussy not knowing any better, did what it thought best, and decided to squirt all over his hand.

Your mouth went silent. Your thick things closed around his arm instinctively before you could stop yourself. He grunted and pushed your thighs back open with the slap of the inside of one of them.

"Fucking greedy little thing." His head dipped down and his fingers withdrew from your cunt. Your breath hitched and you bit your lip, tightening a muscle In your cunt as you prepared for his mouth to go back on you. The moment his lips even grazed you, you were spiraling. Your head tipped back into the sheets, the back of your neck and your scalp covered in sweat.

"Cumming all over me like that," he growled, licking a long line up your drooling folds. "Just don't know any better, huh, baby?" His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he gave you a fake pout and a tone that was so condescending it made you want to claw at your skin.

"'s okay." He said, sitting up on his knees, slow and dangerous. "I'll make you learn."

Out came his belt from the loops of his black cargo pants. Your thighs snapped shut. He hadn't fucked you yet, and if this was what you were thinking it was, you were absolutely undoubtably not ready for it.

"Wait--" you try to stop him, but he's already got his hardened, angry red cock free from his pants.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes squinting like he's looking down upon you. Like you just said the stupidest thing on earth.

To him, you did.

"Wait, what?" He repeats, his head falling to the other side while he gently strokes himself.

"I've already cum so much tonight. I can't take anymore." You tell him. He laughs. He full on laughs at you like you were a comedian and just cracked the funniest joke ever.

Big hands force your shaking legs open. Your hands go on his chest, but he grabs your wrists and pins them down by your head with a loud grunt.

"You're so pathetic." He hisses. His grip on you is so strong that it forces tears to run down your hot cheeks harder. The hold he has on you hurts more than the rope. "It's honestly kind of cute." He smiles. "But this isn't about you. I don't fucking care how many times you've cum. I'm in control here, you're my little plaything, and I get to do what I want."

His cockhead runs down your soaked slit. Your hips jerk, but he slams them back down onto the bed with a giant flesh hand.

"Let me take what I want, and stay the fuck down." He says, his blue eyes staring into yours in a way that you can only describe as angered. Your body shakes, and your lips quiver as you part them to squeak out the words, "yes sir" with a pathetic nod of your head.

His lips curl into a sadistic grin, and he slowly slides his cock into your abused cunt. A loud cry leaves your mouth, but he's quick to silence you with his tongue down your throat. He wastes no time bottoming out and rocking his lips into you hard. Not when your pussy let him in so easily and eagerly. He pulls back and gives a pat to your cheek.

"look at you, baby." He groans, looking down between your joined bodies where his cock was thrusting into your pussy. "Taking me like the perfect little fucktoy you are." His lips pull back, his cock slipping out by just a few inches before he slammed into you.

Your mouth flew open and your thighs clenched around his thick hips. He was so big. So big, it hurt. So big you were crying at the thought of his tip reaching your cervix.

"See? It could have been so easy like this. But you just had to go and complain like a brat." A metal hand comes down on your ass hard. You yelp, and hot tears run down your cheek when you close your eyes by the impact instinctively.

"But it's okay. My little whores gonna learn that I don't fuck her to please her; I fuck her because I need to." He hissed through gritted teeth, setting a brutal pace for you that had your tits bouncing and your eyes flooding with tears.

His hand comes down to rub your clit for just a few seconds, and your pussy clamps down on him like you're gonna cum again.

"Oh?? Are you gonna cum again?" He croons, rubbing your clit around slowly. A gutteral moan leaves your lips and you nod.

"Aww," he smiles. "That's too bad."

He pulls out of you with a grunt, leaving you to feel cold and empty without his cock inside you. You whine and throw your head down like you're already done with his shit.

"Sir..." You whine. He spanks your pussy, immediately shutting you up.

"Nuh-uh. You don't get to 'sir' me. Not after all you've done. You're gonna sit back and take your punishment like the whore you are."

He pulls back and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around your folds with the tip of his cock. You whimper and sob when his cockhead rubs your overstimulated clit up and down.

Suddenly, he pulls away and sits back in his knees. He bends down off the edge of the bed and picks up the black leather belt he had previously discarded. Your mouth goes dry.

"I want you to sit across my lap. On all fours." He says sternly, running a hand down the smooth leather of his belt. You hesitate for several moments, almost wanting to defy him. Instead you swallow your pride and hold your tongue back.

"Unless you'd prefer my metal hand." He threatens, holding the hand out and flexing his fingers. You shake your head, and your body moves in an instant.

In just a few seconds, you're in position across his lap. He groans when he sees the way your back arches when he ran the leather of his belt down the curve of your ass.

"Count."

"What?"

Spank!

"Fucking count, whore." He barks, raising his hand high in the air. You look down at the messy red sheets with wide eyes, your arms trembling, and your knees threatening to give out.

The belt cracks loudly as it falls onto your already reddened ass. You cry out and grip the sheets, the sounds of your sniffles and your yelp making his cock ache to be back inside you.

"One," you mutter weakly.

The second one comes down on you harder.

"Two,"

The third one is somehow even harder than the last. The flesh where he hits stings and burns, and each spank jolts your body forward by the force of his hits.

He spanks you one last time before he throws the belt back down onto the floor. It hits the floor with a loud metallic sound, and he gently rubs the skin on your ass apologetically.

"You can lay back down now." He says, his tone sweeter than it was before. Your entire body burns and aches. Your knees shake as you crawl back into the bed, your pussy shivering at the thought of "what could he possibly do next?"

You lay back down with a grunt, your lower back muscles feeling tight and your ass sore. Your eyes are bright red and glassy, your cheeks tear stained.

He smiles at the sight sadistically. He wants to see how much he'll get you to cry whenever he makes you bounce on his cock.

"Oh, baby." He cooes, running his warm hands up your thighs. "You look so pretty when you cry."

[bigwishes]

Jabari's Expansion

Jabari was a total muscle slut, he had spend years toning his body to be the perfect online magnet for men to click on and feed money into his accounts. He spent 20 minutes a day filming himself posing in tight underwear, angling himself perfectly to show off the goods.

Jabari finished uploading his latest series of pictures and instantly turned off notifications and put his phone on silent. Whilst he loved the attention and even got off on the flood of likes and comments he hated getting messages from guys begging for more.

Everyone was beneath him in his mind, they were only worth the money they'd pay to his only fans.

Jabari loaded up his Trindr and began swiping looking for his hook up for the night. It was almost an hour of him denying man after man, nobody was hot enough in his mind, no where near as hot as him. They were too skinny, or fat, too short, or too much of a princess. He was almost tempted to accept some just to message them to get their act together if they wanted to even exist in his feed.

An ad appeared in his feed "Better yourself today!". Jabari instantly swiped it away, laughing at himself that you couldn't improve perfection. After the ad a guy popped up that almost had Jabari drooling and chewing on his own lip.

The man was a huge black bodybuilder named Amir and his profile was him posing in a tiny pair of stage trunks that showed off his manhood perfectly. Jabari accepted him and "MATCH" flashed up on the screen. He instantly opened the messages.

"Hey there Amir, you look so damn fine in your profile"

"Cheers bro, you look stunning in yours, love your body handsome"

Jabari licked his lips, knowing he had this guy in the bag just like every other man that came before him, soon he'd have his own muscled beast to wait on him hand on foot. He snapped a photo of his bicep and sent it to Amir.

"Well if you love it so much why don't you come over and worship it"

Amir quickly sent back an image of himself flexing, his giant bicep taking up most of the photo, almost the size of his head.

"You might be a lil small for that baby, why dont you come feel what real muscle feels like"

Jabari's blood boiled as he quickly unmatched himself with Amir. He had never been so embarrassed, men would kiss the ground he walked on for a chance to go on a date with him, he hand thousands of guys begging from him to do anything to them, but to have some meat head say he should worship him had crossed a line.

Swiping away a warning flashed up on his screen "no more potential matches in your area". Jabari rolled his eyes and tried to reload the app. The ad "Better Yourself Today" appeared again, he tried to swipe it away but he accidentally pressed it instead.

Redirected to a page it had his profile photo already uploaded. A quick loading circle appeared and Jabari's profile picture disappeared, replaced with a hyper realistic 3D render of Jabari himself. Shrugging it off and just assuming it was some of that new generative AI crap. A small text box appeared on screen, "Request Your Improvements: Limits remaining: 1"

Jabari smirked thinking about how hot it'd be to be bigger than Amir and crush his head to the ground with his foot, forcing all the power of a colossal tree trunk leg, pressing down on a lesser man until he begs to be let back up.

He typed into the grey text box

"Make me the biggest colossal bodybuilder, a giant amongst men, and Olympian god of strength and muscle mass. Every man would be forced to look up at me, they'd be swallowed by my massive shadow, I'd get attention from everyone around me, I'd never be unseen or unnoticed, hell men would have to submit and listen to my booming voice"

A loading circle appearing on the app in front of the 3D model of Jabari, "in progress" was posted under it. Jabari waited for a monent, until 2 minutes had passed by and he lost interest, he rolled his eyes and closed the website, instead opting to open his social media apps to see the flood of comments from guys asking, wishing and begging to be with him.

Jabari's hand found its way to his dick as he began stroking and pleasuring himself just to the idea of men begging to be with him, he was a god amongst men and they'd be lucky if he ever even looked in their direction.

a few hours had passed by of him enjoying his own company and he had passed out in his bed. He dreamed of being bigger, taking out a giant of a man like Amir only for him to look like a twink next to him, he dreamed of trapping him in a headlock, listing to him beg to be let free, hearing him admit that Jabari was bigger than him, hotter than him, more of a man than he could ever hope to be.

he let out a deep moan in his sleep, completely unaware of his bed creaking as it adjusted to new weight. He stretched completely unconscious, curling his toes as his spine got longer each second he extended himself. His shoulders got wider as meat packed itself onto his entire frame, at least 40 pounds of muscle all over. He let out another moan as his dick grew as he got hard.

Jabari was startled awake by his 7am alarm, he had never felt so deeply entrenched in sleep it was almost like he forgot he'd have to wake up at all. Reaching up to rub his face he noticed the size of his bicep, some how it had almost tripled over night, he quickly sat up and flexed both his arms, admiring the new strength. Looking down at his chest he bounced his pecs seeing how much thicker they had grown, below he noticed his thighs, thick and solid but the main attraction was in between. He was always blessed in the bedroom but this was new. His dick was soft and still almost made it to his knee. Jabari almost started drooling over the thought of playing with his new toy, but he stopped himself, remembering the hour long skin care routine he had to do to keep his perfect complexion for his fans, and the preparation he had to put together for the photos he'd take later on at night.

Whilst excited about the new size he had packed on a twinge of worry entered his mind.

"how the fuck did this happen, how'd I get so...big?"

He suddenly remembered the ad from last night and opened up his browser pages hoping it was saved as a window when he closed it. He saw the title of the page "Better Yourself Today!". He opened it and smirked seeing the 3D model of himself but today it was bigger, showing him as he was this morning, but the grey loading circle was still on the screen and the word "processing" was still beneath

He clicked on the grey request box and a pop up appeared "unable to request changes when changes are in progress"

"HOLY FUCK" Jabari smirked and laughed "I thought this was just a shitty AI art thing fuck, I could be a literal god with this"

His dick started to fill with blood and he hard over the thought of men begging for him to change them, forcing them to worship him for a chance to change themselves.

He snapped a photo of himself sitting on the end of his bed, remembering he had requested to become a bodybuilder and realised he probably wasn't done.

He cringed a little at the thought, yes he wanted to sleep with Amir, and liked the idea of being big enough to dominate and crush him but he had never wanted to be one of those Roided stage pigs, he even thought that most guys that got themselves to be professional bodybuilders who competed looked fucking disgusting but he shrugged it off, knowing he'd probably only be like that for a few hours and then he'd change however he wished when the processing was done. He gave his arm another flex and thought about requesting to stay this size once it was all over.

Jabari stood up and instantly felt his underwear sitting snug around his ass, he looked back and saw it too was bigger, thick and fat with muscle, his already perfect bubble butt was now almost twice as big, it was always something his fans loved photos of and he laughed thinking about how much attention it was gonna get now it looked like this.

a few hours had passed and Jabari was preparing to go to the gym, only to find he was struggling to get ready without running out of breath, looking down he could see his feet had gotten bigger, both in length, width and thickness, grow to handle his new size. He noticed when he first started getting ready he had grown to at least 6.4ft but now he was starting to doubt it, thinking he was probably 6.6 or maybe he had grown even taller in the few hours he'd been awake.

As he walked he felt his thighs rubbing together, slamming into each other the muscles bouncing and grinding. He took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. He had definitely gotten bigger and was now getting bigger than he ever wanted to be, he frowned and let out a scowl.

"fuck, hope this shit ends soon any bigger and Im gonna start to look like one of those gross freaks in the gym"

Even though he was started to get disgusted by his size he still couldn't help but reach into his pants and play with his fattening dick.

"wouldn't mind this staying though, fuck guys would probably scream if I got to really use this haha" he joked and he stroked him semi.

"fuck, cant show the goods on camera tonight, I look too different, probably just gotta get some footage of my pits in the gym, maybe some feet pics for the freaks tonight probably some ab stuff too" Jabari thought.

He was starting to get nervous about how much longer this was going to continue, he opened up the web page and still saw it was processing his request. He looked at the 3D model of his body and even spun it around.

"fuck, yeah, I'm getting way too big"

Jabari continued to get ready but ran into his next problem. He didn't mind his workout shirt not making it to his waist, he often showed off his abs in the gym, but he struggled to get his shorts up over his ass. He stood side on to the mirror letting out subtle moans of complaint as he bounced himself up and down pulling it up by the waist band, he felt it as it strained tight against his ass and bulge before in finally slipped over. He felt the fabric struggling over his magnificent bubble ass and saw his thick tree trunk man hood predominantly hugging along his thigh and waist in the mirror.

"damn...gotta be careful. move too fast and I think ill split em"

Jabari struggled his entire car ride to the gym, he had to pull over multiple times to readjust his seat, if he didn't know any better he could have sworn he was growing the entire way there. When he finally got there he struggled to pull himself out of his car when all of a sudden a loud tearing noise. He lifted up his left arm to see his shirt had split down his rips, showing off his massive lat and juicy pec, he reached over with the opposite hand to assess the damage when another massive ripping noise rip out and he felt the fabric rip across his back. Barely able to lift it off himself he was simply forced to tear off the fabric and walk into the gym shirtless.

Walking into the gym he instantly felt the warmer air on his skin, outside was cold as fuck due to it being the middle of winter and whilst the gym was air conditioned it was still warmer that the 10 degrees outside. Jabari's body naturally relaxed, no longer staying tense trying to keep warm, whilst he was enjoying the controlled temperature he didn't notice the beads of sweat starting to form on his back and shoulders.

"Hey, shirts on or no entry!"

The gym manager called out from across the desk,

"Oh umm, sorry dude wardrobe malfunction..haha"

"Doesn't matter man, grab a shirt or go home"

Jabari was furious on the inside, wanting to put him in his place, he could only think about how poor the bastard probably was, how he didn't deserve to even speak to him...but he also didn't want any more attention, a few people were already looking at him and he was embarrassed by how big he had gotten, so he grabbed a tank top from the merch rack and bought it before going into the gym.

Feeling that he had gotten heavier, noticing how much he had to breath just to keep this big body moving the first stop was the changing room to check the damage. Standing in front of the changing room mirror he was shocked to see he had almost doubled in size since he had left the house.

but that wasn't all, other things were starting to change. His toes were starting to curl in his shoes as they pressed against the edge, his pits normally always shaven were now starting to get pitch back hair grow in a tangled formation. His beard was getting thicker and sweat was now starting to run down his massive muscular arms.

He wanted to go home so nobody could see him in this disgusting body but when he pulled out his phone to check the website he still saw the same grey spinning circle and the same words "processing" then it hit him, he requested to become a bodybuilder so maybe if he acted like one the process would be complete...

Jabari took the blue tank he had just bought and put it own, it was a struggle he could barely get his arms above his head and manoeuvring this monstrosity of a body into a shirt proved to be a challenge, when he finally got it on he instantly felt the fabric vacuum and stick to his back, the sweat acting like an adhesive. Dark circles started to form under his pits and wing shaped lats as the sweat dripped down, anyone would think he had already been working out for hours.

Jabari set out onto the gym floor and did a handful of exercises but decided to finish he workout off with a bang to really convince the app he had become a bodybuilder. He waddled over to the bench press area, they were all taken but two guys were just chatting and leaning on the equipment,

"Hey ladz, you two done with the bench?" Jabari asked

The two didn't hear him, too interested in their own conversation to even notice anyone else, Jabari went to ask again but this time louder but as he opened his mouth his stomach groaned and he seemed to automatically cock his mouth open and to the side...

BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!!

The two men finally looked up and saw the gigantic 300lsb black man letting out a disgustingly loud booming belch in their direction, they stared at him waiting for him to say something...

"You, two, **HIC** you ladz *UUURP* done with the bench?

"damn, all yours bro" One guy replied

The other guy covered his nose and screwed up his face, struggling to breath the stench that was now radiating from Jabari. The two men grabbed their things and walked past him with screwed up faces not hiding their disgust.

Jabari sat down, instantly feeling the sweat on his ass seep through his shorts almost sticking him to the bench, he opened his mouth to say thanks to the men for giving him their spot, but once again he cocked open his mouth automatically letting out another booming belch.

People turned to look at the man who was making all the noise and Jabari lowered his cap,

"fuck...what is going on with me" he whispered to himself.

Finishing up at the gym he made his way to the exist, his shoes so coated with sweat they squelched with each step. walking through the lobby people turned their heads to see where the horrible man odour was coming from. Two trainers were having a conversation in the office behind a glass window, Jabari didn't even notice them but he suddenly felt weighed down as his stomach loudly groaned and he cocked open his mouth

BWOOOOORRRRPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

unable to stop it he let out another belch, so deep and loud is practically rattled the class, but it was loud enough for the two trainers to hear and stop their conversation and stare at the freak in the middle of the lobby.

whether he realised it or not Jabari only felt compelled to keep moving forward once everyone was staring at him. He continued out to his car, the cold air was even more harsh as it hit against his sweat soaked skin.

Standing next to his car he was fumbling with his keys when he felt his curled toes press even harder against the front of his sneakers when suddenly his watched one big toe tear through, then the other. His shoes felt tighter and tighter by the second. He finally unlocked the car door and struggled to force himself inside, finally thumping down into the seat he watched his feet sitting in the peddle bay as they grew, and grew, tearing out of his shoes. not just a little but completely tearing them apart, his toes broke out of the front, the sides of his feet split the shoes and tore the fabric at the top apart. Even his ankles swells splitting the heel support. Jabari's eyes started to water, he had gotten used to the slow release of his stench in the gym but his feet were so ripe it made the air sour and he was forced to roll the window down.

Getting back home Jabari practically fell out of his car when he opened the door, all that mass forcefully compacted in such a tight space for 20 minutes he had an imprint of the pattern on the door and the handle pressed into his bicep. Jabari laid there on his hands and knees in his driveway, feeling the weight as he had once again gotten even bigger. After a few minutes of enjoying the ice cold breeze cool his over heating body, he forced himself back up and waddled into his house.

Once again he pulled out his phone to check the website and was greeted with the same disappointing sight of the grey circle and the word processing.

"fuck...when will it end, when will I be big enough"

Jabari moaned as he felt his skin stretch, becoming even tighter and more stretch marks appearing across his body as he got even bigger. Sweat ran down his back and was so dense it was dripping off his face, he hadn't even been inside for 5 minutes and already the smell was starting to become too much for him. He slowly stomped through the house, so big he was only able to take one step every 10 seconds. He opened his glass sliding door and walked into his back yard.

Taking deep breaths his chest heaved up and down as his gigantic lungs filled with fresh air. Jabari was blissfully unaware of his neighbours in their own yards, but they'd soon be aware of him.

Jabari's stomach let out a loud gurgling noise and he winced in pain. Looking down he could barely see past his pecs but watched as his abs were slowing growing forward. The skin on his lats and stomach was stretching so tight strech marks spontaneously formed on his lats and pelvis.

"aaaa...AAAAHHH FUCK" Jabari cried out in pain

"W-WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO MEE AAAAAHHH!!" he placed his hands on his gut, hoping itd do something but all he could feel was his extremely defined abs become less defined as they were forcefully stretched out

His stomach loudly gurgled, and he felt a strange glugging sensation, the pain was almost unbearable and tears formed in the corner of his eyes. His muscles were so big, his stomach so bloated he couldnt eve touch his fingertips together when resting it on his abs.

BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP!!

uuuuurrppppp

BURP!!

BWOOOOOOOOOPPPP!!!!!!

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!

Jabari couldn't stop, 5 minutes went by of him belching and burping only interrupted by the occasional moan of pain until finally he was interrupted by one of his neighbours calling him out from over the fence

"BRO TAKE SOME FUCKING PEPTO OR SOMETHING YOU PIG"

Flooded with embarrassment and shame Jabari quickly waddled back into his house moaning in discomfort. As soon as he shut the glass door and nobody could hear him his stomach began to feel normal, the bloating seemed to slow...

BUUUUUuuuuuuUUUUUuuuuuuUURRRrrrrrRRRRRrrrrrrRRRRPPPPPP!!!!

Jabari grimaced at the sound of the most disgusting belch he had ever heard, especially leaving his own mouth but his stomach had at least deflated so he wasn't in pain anymore.

His phone vibrated and he opened it to the wonderful sight of the website finally saying "TRANSFORMATION LOADED!" Jabari let out a sigh of relief and clicked on the grey box

"shrink me down back to my original size"

the grey loading circle appeared for half a second and a pop up appeared on screen "Transformation requests remaining: 0 cannot complete"

Jabari started to panic as he manically typed it every way he could think of but each time he got the same answer, even after completely reloading the website and uploading an old image of himself the 3D model simply changed to resemble him as he was now and it always said the same thing "Transformation requests remaining: 0 cannot complete"

Jabari looked at the 3D model of himself, over grown, sweating, bloated. He looked up from his phone screen at his lounge room mirror. Disgusted by his reflection...realising he was stuck like this..

So big it was difficult to move, Sweating so bad everyone noticed his presence enter a room, Cursed to bloat and belch until everyone around was staring at him in disgust,

Jabari was stuck like this, A disgusting fucking bodybuilder.....

[slowburningechoes]

office hours

Summary: After an unforgettable night, Wilson just can't seem to get his mind off you. It's a good thing you work at the same hospital, but it's too bad House is next door... right? (as promised @chardalton & @the-ultimate-obsessive-fangirl !!!)

Pairing: James Wilson (House, MD) x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ content (NSFW/NSFM) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT / semi-secret relationship (only from House), inappropriate workplace behavior, semi-public sex, brief sexting, office sex, thigh riding, fingering, female ejaculation, secret lingerie, desk sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), breeding

Word Count: 5.4k

Inspired by: this post

Here is a link to ao3 if that is your preferred platform.

It was midday when Wilson’s text came through: Charting is killing me. I could use a break... preferably with you on my lap. My office. Now.

You glance at your phone as you wait by the nurse’s station for your next psych consult. The directness of his request makes your cheeks flush as you shift your phone from the threat of any prying eyes. 

You move to lean against a wall (where you’re sure no one will see) and quickly type your response: You really know how to give orders, don’t you? Good thing I’m not feeling too disobedient today, I’m on my way.

When he calls your name to enter after you knock, you can tell from the strained tone in his voice he’s feeling impatient. As you let yourself into his office, it becomes even more apparent. Wilson’s hands are tapping across his desk and his facial features are even more defined from the tension in his jaw.

“Did you need a consult, Dr. Wilson?” you tease, tilting your head and batting your eyes. 

There had been numerous “consults” between Wilson and you since started secretly seeing each other about three months ago and dating for the last month.  House had only recently begun to get suspicious, but, of course, you’d already covered your bases, informing Cuddy and having a quiet chat with HR, just to stay ahead of things.

“Oh, hush,” he groans, his tone flirtatious but laden with desire. “Come here, darling.” Raising a finger and curling it, he beckons you over.

You obliged without hesitation, happily prancing over to meet him behind his desk.

As your message had said, you really weren’t in a disobedient mood today, though you did like to be bratty on most occasions. All day you’d been daydreaming about last night — how Wilson had devoured your pussy like a man starved before fucking you senseless in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. Admittedly, you had been wet all day, pressing your legs together desperately, trying your best to focus on clinic duty… but the images always slipped in, corrupting your mind and making you throb with need.

“You’re being awfully cooperative today, aren’t you?” Wilson smirked, caressing his hands over your hips, which were level with his face as he sat in his office chair.

You nod eagerly, biting your lip in an attempt to conceal the depth of desire you’ve been holding onto all day.

“That’s so unlike you,” Wilson hummed, voice coaxing. “Have you been thinking about me, angel?”

He senses your restraint and places a soft kiss on the sensitive spot near the crease of your thigh, the one he knows drives you wild.

A sigh escaped you and your admission slipped out, breathless, “Yes… fuck, yes. It’s been driving me insane all day.”

“I thought so,” Wilson grinned at your confession before adding his own, hands roaming across your torso, but one moving to grip your ass firmly, pulling you closer.  

“I’ve been thinking about you, too. Trying to do all this damn paperwork…,” a small grunt comes from his throat. “It’s so hard to concentrate when all I can think about is this.” His hand runs up the back of your thigh, bunching up your skirt, fingers sliding under the sides of your panties. 

Your skin practically aches under his touch, desperate for any contact it can get. Breathlessly, you moan his name, “J-James…”

“I can’t stop remembering how beautiful you looked last night — my dick buried so deep in you… hair all messy, your mouth gaping open, crying for me…,” Wilson whispers with need, pulling you onto his lap in one fluid motion. You were straddling his thigh, your back flush against his chest, reminiscent of how you were positioned against him as he completely ruined you in front of the mirror last night. “I know it’s only been half a day, but I couldn’t wait anymore…I had to get my hands on my gorgeous girl.”

You rest your head back against his shoulder, the heat between you undeniable as you roll your hips down into his thigh, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his neck. “Then touch me, please,” you whisper, voice thick with need.

Wilson’s groan is low and strained as his hands slide underneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your underwear. His touch is gentle, savoring every second of this tension between you. As he traces the intricate rose-patterned lace beneath his fingers, he stops suddenly.

“Oh?” His voice cracks slightly, full of surprise and lust, the weight of his discovery heavy in the air. “You’re wearing these… here?”

A rush of heat flooded through you, your body responding to the thrill of the secret you’d been carrying all day. You knew exactly what they would do to him when you chose them this morning. The sultry red lace, a cheeky cut pair of panties he nearly tore off you the first time you wore them.

Wilson's fingers begin to move once again, dancing across the meshed fabric before flattening against you

"You really walked around all day like this?" His voice is thick with disbelief and hunger as he lifts up the back of your skirt to reveal the trail of red trim that perfectly curves against your ass cheeks. Wilson muttered a few unintelligible words to himself before releasing a pained groan, “You sat across from me in this morning’s consultation, acted completely normal, while you had these on underneath? Knowing what they do to me?" His fingers press slightly harder against your still-clothed core, lace straining beneath his touch, applying enough pressure you can’t help but gasp.

You bite your lip, catching your breath before nodding earnestly. "I thought about telling you," you admit teasingly, rolling down into him again, your body aching for more friction. "But it was much more fun wondering if you knew."

He presses his thigh against the motion of your hips, almost as if he were answering your request. You feel his desire grow beneath you, making your throbbing need intensify. Wilson’s lips linger just below your ear, voice low and deep, “God, I should’ve known. You kept shifting in your seat, crossing your legs too tightly… I almost asked if something was wrong.”

You smirk, leaning into him until your neck meets his lips, “And if I had told you?”

He places a desperate kiss against your throat before lightly grazing it with his teeth, his hand finally sliding beneath the waistband of your panties. “I would’ve had you in here with the door locked before my first patient. I can’t believe you’ve been this wet for me all day.”

Wilson’s digits don’t hesitate to find your core, sliding between your folds and making small circles against your bundle of nerves. His touch electrifies your senses, sending shock waves through your body, hardening your nipples and making your clit pulsate, desperate for more contact. As his fingers dip between your labia, teasing your entrance, a pleasurable moan escapes your lips (louder, admittedly, than you had expected) in the heat of the moment.

“Shhhh,” Wilson warned, quickly bringing his free hand to clasp over your parted lips, muffling the sound of your moan. “You better stay quiet, doll,” he purred in your ear, the heat of his breath nearly distracting you from his fingers dipping into your heat, testing your restraint. “We wouldn’t want House hearing next door, now would we?”

You smirk underneath his touch, the threat of House discovering you both this way making you ache with need even more. But you can feel from the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly against your mouth, and his twitching bulge beneath you, that the thought excites him too.

“Naughty girl,” he hummed, his smirk evident in his voice as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His teeth scraped lightly over your pulse before he soothing the slight sting with his tongue. “You really get off on it, don’t you? Seeing just how much you can get away with before someone realizes just how bad you really are.”

A pitiful near-whine of “uh huh” is all you can manage as you buck your hips into his hand, his fingers now finding their rhythm pumping in and out of you. The pleasure was already overwhelming, but all you could think about was wanting more. More of his touch. More of that very unprofessional dirty talk flowing from his lips. More of whatever he had to give you.

Wilson obliged without the request even leaving your mind, curling his fingers inside you and mindlessly beginning to press his bulge harder against you, soft grunts falling from his lips  The circular motion of his thumb against your clit made your entire lower half numb with warm pleasure, forcing you to bite down on your lower lip hard to stifle the urge to cry out like you had the night before.

"You sat across from me today, acted so damn composed, knowing full well what you had on underneath," Wilson continues, voice tense and thick with the last bit of his restraint. "Now, you’re on my lap making such a mess, hoping that House will hear on the other side of that wall — aren’t you?” His fingers are still curled inside of you, picking up their pace until you feel pressure grow in your abdomen.

Heat floods your face as Wilson makes clear he knows exactly what you were thinking about.“I - I like that he could hear,” you admit, voice trembling with arousal as your clit and inner thighs begin to flood with heat. As you continue, you are practically babbling, mind consumed with numbing pleasure. Wilson’s fingers had found your most sensitive spot, knocking it over and over with just the right amount of force in his fingertips. “K-knowing that he could hear everything — how badly I need you. How good you make me feel. Him knowing what you do to me, how dirty I am — fuck...”

Your tangent comes to a halt as you feel your orgasm crash into you, one that was more intense than any you had experienced before. The pressure that had built inside of you was heavy and nearly painful, but the relief that washed over you as you released on his fingers was mind numbing. You rode out your climax on his fingers with a recklessness that was unfamiliar to you, driven by a hedonistic bliss that was desperate and raw. The satisfaction you felt made your entire body feel like it was on fire and — for once in your life — your mind was completely blank, drunk on some kind of animalistic ecstasy.

“Jesus Christ,” Wilson groans, his large hands on each of your ass cheeks, pushing you up to the edge of his thigh. “You just squirted all over me. Damn, t-that’s so hot…” He stares at his now-soaked slacks and your swollen pussy with wide-eyed admiration.

His trance is broken when you gasp, your sore clit grazing his knee, sending a shock of pleasurable pain through your upper thighs. Responding tentatively with care, Wilson brings you back to rest flush against his chest, pressing multiple tender kisses to your flushed cheek. “You did such a good job, darling. You were perfect, as always.”

Every part of your body is sensitive as he caresses your body, fingers dancing up and down your torso causing bumps to rise along your skin.

“But I hope you don’t think we’re done here, angel,” Wilson whispers teasingly, still gently caressing his fingers through your hair. “You nearly made me cum in my pants… and now, I want House to hear just how pretty you sound taking my cock.”

You whimper in response as your body melts into his touch, every muscle softening as he moves you to bend over the edge of his desk. It’s as if you’ve forgotten how to hold yourself up, hot cheek pressed against the cool wood as he hikes your skirt up around your hips and spreads your legs open for him. He pulls your panties down your thighs with careless want, the lace scratching against your skin before the fabric catches at your knees.

Wilson groaned at the sight of you laid out before him, completely pliant under his hands. His fingers trailed down the curve of your spine, slow and deliberate, savoring the way you shivered at his touch.

“Look at you,” he hums, voice thick with hungry admiration. His thumbs press into your hips, holding you in place as he leans in, lips ghosting over your ear. “So sensitive… needy… gorgeous...”

Wilson’s fingers are flat against you again, coaxing your body to open until all you can do is surrender under his touch. Your breath hitches as you feel Wilson’s swollen tip line up with your entrance perfectly before gliding through your folds, causing your pussy to instinctually clench around nothing. There is a deep wanting ache inside of you that hated his teasing, but your body numb with pleasure, could find no reason to complain, reacting with small jumps every time he brushed against your clit.

As you process the pleasure you feel as he continues to slide his cock through your slickness, Wilson’s left hand comes down to grip your ass firmly. Before you can process his touch, he releases his hold, only to apply a stinging slap that motivates a breathy cry to escape your lips. You were shocked at first, he had never spanked you before — even when you were being bratty — but the sharp burning made you become even more wet and desperate for him to fill you.

Wilson’s fingers brushed the warm, flushed skin of your backside. “Guess you really weren’t in the mood to be disobedient today,” the tone of approval in his voice made your clit throb harder. “So good for me… letting me take control like this. Letting me do whatever I want.”

You try to form a response, your mind still hazy and body trembling, but the words escape you. All that comes out is a soft, shaky (and admittedly, pitiful) whimper. You can feel Wilson grin from behind you, his confidence thick in the already charged air. 

“Normally, I love that bratty nature of yours,” he chuckles softly, lining himself back up with your entrance. “You’re always so sassy, testing me, ready with some biting comeback. But this…,” Wilson groaned, finally pressing his cock into you at (a still) painfully slow pace, “...seeing you speechless, so fucked out of your mind already… it’s doing something to me.”

As he bottomed out inside of you, you couldn’t help but moan, a sound coming out that was some attempt at his name. You had already come to know how wonderfully Wilson stretched you, but this heat from your first orgasm made you feel as if you were melting around him, perfectly molding against every vein ridge of his dick. 

Wilson began to move, thrusting in and out of you with small breathy grunts accompanying each movement. His hands braced against your hips, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh. You could feel his gaze drinking you in, flickering between your pussy gripping him and the expression on your face — cheeks rosy, lips slightly parted, and eyes heavy-lidded, rolling back every time he sank into you. 

For the first time in your slew of inappropriate work rendezvous, you didn’t (and truly, couldn’t) hold back the noises that escaped your lips, one cry coming out as some semblance of his name. Wilson’s tip hit against your cervix with the perfect amount of pressure, tapping it just firm enough that you nearly felt it in your stomach.

Your sounds made Wilson twitch inside of you, prompting him to pause briefly to keep himself from coming undone entirely. 

With a low groan, he leaned forward, his chest flush against your back and his lips hovering beside your ear. “Think House is sitting in there, pretending he doesn’t hear how wrecked you sound?” Wilson whispered, an almost mocking tone in his voice. His words send a chill of pleasure down your spine, as his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, pulling you from the desk, your back flat against his heaving chest. He continues, words still against your ear,“Or do you think he’s listening… really listening — wondering what I’m doing to make you come apart like this?”

The thought makes you gasp, the sound echoing , His fingers pressed slightly harder against the sides of your throat as you did. You clench around him, responding in absent-minded pleasure. “J-James,” is all you can whimper.

The idea of House, himself, hearing wasn’t what turned you on — it was the delicious anticipation of him discovering that his careful sensitive friend had completely lost control. The idea of Wilson, usually so measured and cautious, now completely undone, taking you raw, right here on his desk in the middle of the day, was intoxicating. It wasn’t just the thrill of it; it was the satisfaction of knowing you were the one who’d made him forget himself, made him lose his usual restraint. The tension between his normally composed, loyal nature and the raw, reckless abandon he was giving you sent a rush of heat through your veins, knowing it was all because of you. He’d never imagined being so reckless, and yet, here you were, the cause of his unraveling once again.

Wilson’s thrusts were becoming increasingly more sloppy, rutting into you at an uneven and needy rhythm. “God — you look so damn gorgeous, Y/N… letting me have you like this in the middle of the day…” his voice was breathy, trembling just like his legs as he fought to hold onto his control. “Y-you’re perfect… shit — you feel so, so good, my little secret… I - I  can’t…” You thought it was so cute — how he always started to ramble when he was close to cumming, every bit of sense escaping him.

A deep, shuddering moan came from his lips, hand dropping down from your throat, fingers digging into your hips, holding you against him like he never wanted to let go. Wilson’s cock delved deeper within you, so deep it was nearly painful as his hardening tip hit against your cervix with relentless fervor.

You whimper at the sound of his voice, the sensation of his touch consuming you. “James,  baby…” You felt close to the edge again, a familiar knot building within the pit of your stomach. “I-I’m about to…”

Wilson cuts you off with agreement,“I know, angel… me too.” His voice is rough, strained as he presses a gentle, reassuring kiss to your neck. “Let go for me,” he murmurs, nearly pleading, lips ghosting over your ear, breaths hot and uneven. “Come on, sweetheart… let me feel you cum on my cock, please.”

The way he says it, the way he’s holding you so tightly but with so much care — it’s all too much. Your body seizes, that coiling heat in your stomach rushing down your shaking thighs. “F-fuck…” A sharp, broken cry spilled from your lips as pleasure crashed over you. You didn’t care who heard at that point - House, Cuddy, anyone. Wilson groaned in response, as if the sound alone was enough to undo him… and it practically did.

His movements stuttered as your walls clenched around him, only to find euphoric relief as you became so soft and open for him. He was following closely behind you, hips thrusting once more until a guttural, shuddering moan tearing from his throat and you felt him release inside of you. He buried his face against your shoulder, forehead beaded with sweat and his whole body weak as he let go, completely and utterly undone.

Neither of you moves for a long moment, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure. Your breath is still coming in shallow gasps as you cling to him, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat slowing against your back. You both rest, regaining some composure in your muscles before breaking apart from one another.

Wilson presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to the curve of your neck. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“Then keep taking me, James,” You hum, leaning into his touch, your fingers finding their way through his soft and, now, thoroughly tousled hair. He continues to place kisses along your neck as you speak. “Keep taking me like this, over and over… take all of me, until you’re completely satisfied… until you’ve had every part of me.”

“Oh, I’ll take all of you, sweetheart,” he assured, voice still rich with lust. His hands roam over your body once more, possessive and gentle at the same time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his touch. “But I’m not going to let you forget how much you want me to… I’m going to take you until you’re lost in me. Until every part of you is completely mine.” His hands drift lower, his fingertips teasing as they glide across your skin, making your body hum with need. “And you’ll beg for it, every time, won’t you?”

“Mhm,” you reply, feeling the tension build inside of you once more. Just as you begin to beg him to spread you open again, reality creeped back in — the cool air against your heated skin, the quiet ticking of the clock, and the ever-present threat of someone walking in. A frustrated sigh escapes you as your fingers slid over his hand, which was cupping your breast, pressing it there for just a second longer before reluctantly stilling him. The disappointment of having to stop was palpable, a slow, burning ache lingering between you.

Wilson shifted behind you, groaning as he peeled himself away from your warmth. “We should… probably make ourselves look decent.” 

You stifled a giggle, watching him blush at the realization of what had just transpired. “Mmm, you think?”

His lips quirk as he reaches for his crumpled dress shirt. “Unless you want House walking in and figuring out why my tie is missing and my pants are all soaked.”

You adjust your skirt back down over your thighs before blinking quickly, confused. “…Your tie is missing?” When did that happen?

Wilson paused, his brows furrowed, equally as perplexed. His eyes look around the room, groaning when he finds it draped over his desk lamp. “Fantastic.”

Smirking, you remove the fabric and thread it under his collar, hands lingering against his still-heaving chest. Though the tension never left, it was palpable again. Wilson’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest, you could feel it beneath your trembling fingers. His eyes, gentler and warmer now, were still filled with lust and need as they admired you make the first loop of the tie knot.

The pulse of desire within the air, however, was so rudely interrupted by the unmistakable rap of a cane against the doorframe. Your heart skips, the rush of heat between your legs suddenly replaced by a sharp jolt of anxiety.

Wilson’s face falls, hand lingering on the edge of your hip, trying to hold onto the moment before reality rushes back in. You can feel his body tense as a whispered huff escapes him. “Damn it…”

House’s voice filtered through, ladened with an undeniably smug amusement. “Wilson! Open up or I start taking bets on what exactly I just heard…” Two more sharp taps from his cane shook the door. “My money is on ‘reckless desk defilement’, but I’m sure that Cuddy might have more creative ideas.”

A look of exasperation was plastered across Wilson’s face, eyes already rolling in annoyance as he reluctantly removed his hands from your side. As he moved to grasp the knob, he groaned in defeat, turning it until the lock clicked in release.

House didn’t let a second pass, stepping just inside the doorway with his usual aura of casual arrogance. He leaned against his cane, gaze flickering across the scene, taking in Wilson’s still undone tie, your messy hair, typically neatly placed desk accessories along the floor, and the undeniable tension that still electrified the air.

“Well, well,” he began, his lips slowly twisting into a cocky grin, “it seems I should have taken those bets. Could’ve made quite a bit of cash.”

“House —,” Wilson started, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying his best to regather a sense of control.

“Oh, dont ‘House’ me,” came the sing-song reply, teasing thick in House’s voice. “I heard everything… but I’m sure you already knew that.” 

You couldn’t deny that his acknowledgement of your recent activities made your core ache in some sick way. Your muscles stiffened, fingers wrapping tightly around the edge of the desk as you felt your cheeks burn. You were enjoying this more than you thought you would.

“Tsk, tsk, Wilson,” House drawled, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I expected better from you. Mid-day debauchery in your office? Highly unprofessional.” He smirked. “And here I thought you were all about romance.”

 “House, please,” Wilson groaned, dragging a hand down his face, blocking his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not judging,” House interrupted, waving a hand to stop him from continuing. “If anything, I’m impressed.” His gaze slid to you, eyes glittering with mischief. “And you, didn’t take you for an exhibitionist, but judging by that glow…” he gave a slow nod of approval, “you enjoyed this.”

A slow heat crawled up your neck, but you refused to flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, feigning consideration as your cheeks grew flushed. “Maybe.”

House let out a sharp, delighted laugh. “Oh, I like her, Wilson. Try to keep this one?”

“Can we please just skip to why you’re here?” Wilson begged, voice crackly just slightly, painfully embarrassed that his best friend and girlfriend were having such an exchange.

House gave him a pointed look. “Oh, I actually do have a reason other than just confronting your kinky lunchtime rendezvous.” House leaned against his cane, grinning. “Cuddy’s looking for you. Says it’s urgent.”

Panicked questions fell from Wilson’s lips with urgency, “What? Why?”

House’s grin turned wolfish. “Could be about a case… hmmmm, could also be about the very audible display of workplace misconduct that echoed through the halls.” He rubbed his chin. “Really, it’s a toss-up.”

Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh, “Fantastic.”

“Wilson,” House said, moving towards the door as he motioned to Wilson’s chest and leg with his cane. “You might want to check a mirror before you go. You still look…” His piercing blue eyes flicked toward you. “Ravished.”

Wilson shot him a murderous glare but didn’t argue, running a hand through his already-messy hair in a feeble attempt at damage control.

House clapped his hands together, proudly pressing them against his lips. “God, this just made my entire week.”

You rolled your eyes, smoothing your skirt. “Try not to enjoy this too much.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I am.” House said teasingly. “The best part is.. it’s our little secret now…”

Wilson’s face grew more red, hot with embarrassment and anger. But with that comment, House strolled out, casually whistling away as if he was innocent to anything that had just occurred.

Wilson exhaled slowly as he fell back into his office chair. “I am going to kill him.”

You grinned sheepishly, stepping closer to him “Later.” Your fingers brushed his collar before continuing to adjust his tie. “Right now, you should probably focus on looking less like a man who just fucked someone senseless.”

“You’re not making that very easy,” he insisted as your lips grazed the skin beside his collar, nibbling lightly on his earlobe.

“That’s too bad,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, “because I’m about to make it even worse.”

“Oh?” Wilson said, suspicion and interest laced in his voice.

You stepped back slightly, letting the moment stretch as he watched you with a mixture of curiosity and hunger, breath becoming uneven once again. 

Slowly, your fingers skimmed along the hem of your skirt, deliberately teasing. Your lips curved into a wicked grin when you saw his gaze darken at the sight. His breath caught as you slid your hands beneath the fabric, fingertips ghosting over your still-sensitive skin. And then, with unhurried precision, you eased your underwear down your thighs. The deep red lace slipped past your knees, pooling at your ankles. 

You stepped out of them with a playful step before gathering the delicate fabric between your fingers and holding them out toward him with a knowing smile.

“Thought you might need a little something to remember me by today,” you murmured, voice rich and teasing.

Wilson’s throat worked as he swallowed, his eyes dark and sharp as they broke from the gift and lifted back to meet yours. He took the lace from your fingers, the brush of skin against skin igniting another spark of anticipation between you. He didn’t say anything at first, rolling the thin material between his fingers before wrapping it in a fist. His expression is nearly unreadable as the silence lingers, jaw tense and lips pressed together tightly.

Then, in a voice low and rough, Wilson spoke, “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Noooo,” you insist sarcastically, smile deepening at his response. “Just trying to make sure you don’t forget me while you’re off being a responsible doctor.”

Wilson exhaled sharply, his free hand gripping the armrest of his chair firmly, visibly struggling to get himself under control. He tucked the lace into the pocket of his dress pants, fingers lingering there for just a moment, as if resisting the urge to bring them to his face, to savor the warmth and scent still lingering on the fabric.

“You do realize what this is going to do to me,” he muttered, warm eyes scanning across your body as you straightened your skirt back down your legs.

His breath hitched as you stepped in even closer, bringing yourself to rest against his still-damp thigh. “That’s the point,” you murmur, voice smooth and sinful. “You’re going to spend the entire day thinking about me. About how I feel when you touch me, about the way I sound when I come undone for you… about the fact that I’m walking around bare beneath my clothes, still full of your cum… and aching for more.”

Wilson groaned deeply, his hand grasping your hip as he attempted to still himself, exhaling hard.

“Jesus, Y/N… you know you’re making it impossible for me to function today, right?” he said, almost like a complaint — but there’s no real protest in his tone, just a quiet, tortured amusement.

Wilson curses under his breath, his hands flexing against his chair again, like he’s a second away from grabbing you again from locking the door and taking you out on the balcony this time. Instead, he tilts his head back slightly, closing his eyes for just a moment, trying to will his restraint back into place.

When he opens them again, his pupils are still blown, voice still rough. “You are so unfair.” 

“I like keeping you on your toes.” You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before moving to stand.

Wilson huffed a quiet, frustrated laugh, shaking his head as he glanced at the clock. “You better be waiting for me when I get home tonight,” he warns, straightening his tie. 

“Oh, James,” you smiled confidently as you backed toward the door, his gaze following you with a barely concealed hunger. “I’ll be waiting… but I won’t be patient.”

You let your hand hover over the doorknob for just a moment, savoring the tension and truly, not wanting to leave him. With a slow turn of your head, you glanced at him over your shoulder. He was still in shock, sitting so stiffly, like he didn’t trust himself to move… or simply couldn’t.

You smirk, admiring the devastation you’ve left in your wake. “Oh, and James?” you purred, voice cloyingly soft. “Enjoy your meeting with Cuddy.”

Wilson made a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a curse, running a hand down his face. “You’re evil.”

You took a slow step towards the door, tracing your finger up your thigh, bunching up the cloth just enough to watch his eyes flick down to your legs, reminding him that there was nothing beneath it.

“Have fun,” your voice dripped with amusement as you finally turned the knob to go, winking playfully at him as you skipped into the hallway.

Wilson let out a long breath, so deep it sounded like he had been holding it the entire time. As you stepped out, just before the door clicked shut, you heard him mutter under his breath – half frustration, half admiration — “She’s going to be the death of me.”

[srjlvr]

꒦꒷ enhypen ! oopsies…! fans actually caught your relationship….

in which you and your partner are really awful at keeping your relationship as a secret. || Idol-ot7!Enhypen X Idol-fem!reader … full fluff!! … no warnings!! … not proofread<3 || note. this one is very similar to the shipping scenarios, but not quite the same.

ε ї з — heeseung ; having temporary matching tattoos.

you and heeseung felt a bit childish in your last hangout at your dorm. you told him you ordered those little temporary tattoos that kids do these days and joked about doing it. one thing led to another and both of you ended up with a weird heart shape right on the back of your hand.

“i think it looks cute” you looked at it and smiled.

heeseung chuckled and kissed your cheek, “but you’re cuter”

“if i could i would get a permanent tattoo with you”

“our fans will probably notice it if we do”

you forgot the next day that both of you have a performance to do.

no one noticed it, it was as if it never happened, your staff members and manager didn’t even notice, your own group members were too oblivious to it as well.

it was only after your performance that a hashtag with both of your names became popular on every platform that ever existed. fans going crazy and posting pictures of your performance with the tattoo circled, then compared to heeseung’s picture with the tattoo as well.

not only that, you actually uploaded a photo where it was clearly seen and not even a bit hidden. your company thought they were fast enough to delete it, but fans are much quicker these days.

it was very much needless to say that you found yourself in your CEO’s office the next day.

ε ї з — jay ; performing and showing everyone your matching bracelets.

jay had recently bought the both of you matching bracelets. he knows you love bracelets and he’d do anything to make you happy.

your bracelet had a few charms he picked that perfectly completed his own charms, if you ask any other person, they’d tell you it’s the perfect matching symbol.

being too excited about the bracelet idea, you forgot to take it off before your comeback performance.

at first fans thought it was just a beautiful bracelet your stylists gave you.

that was until you decided to show it again on live, and jay decided going on live and showing his matching one five minutes after your live ended.

“is that a new bracelet? yes actually, isn’t it so pretty?” you answered your fans’ questions and showed it off.

“show us your bracelet?” jay read one comment and immediately showed it on screen, “i love this bracelet a lot, i don’t think i’ll ever take it down” he chuckled.

not even a minute passed and the whole comment section began asking about his bracelet again and why it looks so similar to yours. jay’s eyes widened and quickly came up with an excuse to end the live.

“please tell me you took it off before going on live” he told you over the phone.

“i did not, why?” you asked innocently.

“i guess i’ll see you tomorrow at the CEO’s office, i love you” he chuckled.

“oh,” you started laughing, “it’s about time we reveal it actually”

ε ї з — jake ; mindlessly hanging out in public.

life had been so stressful lately for both you and jake. him being on tour and you being too busy with your upcoming comeback just added up to the stress you’ve been already having.

you barely found time to hang out or even have video calls. the time difference was sometimes too much for you and you found yourself going days over days without texting properly.

“i miss you so much” he said in one of your very rare video calls.

“i missed you so much more” you replied quietly.

you’ve been on a call for more than four hours, either of you wanted to hang up, you don’t know when will be the next time you’ll be able to talk like that.

as soon as he came back to korea, he texted you, asking to meet up and hang out at the very late night hours.

you being so drunk in love, missed your partner and had to hold him again in your arms, you agreed instantly and made your way to the dorm as fast as the light.

after reuniting he suggested both of you will get out and get some fresh air, the inside was suffocating both of you.

you decided to have a walk in the nearest park and even go to that one arcade he told you he’d take you to when he has the chance. you ended the night with some ramen you bought from the closest seven eleven store.

this idea of publicly hanging out without your managers or even group members knowing was a mindless idea, but you missed each other too much to care.

fans went crazy the day after when dispatch revealed pictures of the both of you hanging out, and just then you realized you fucked up.

ε ї з — sunghoon ; posting the same location photos.

you and sunghoon recently went on a vacation in a very quiet yet beautiful place. no one could recognize you no matter where you went. it was the perfect place for the both of you.

sunghoon brought his cameras, and you as well brought yours. of course, the perfect couple would also have some shared interests.

“the view is so beautiful” you took in the beautiful view you were looking at, and raised your camera to take a picture of the beautiful place.

“you’re way prettier than the view” sunghoon back-hugged you with one hand and raised a camera with the other to take a picture of the view as well.

you chuckled at his remark and shook your head, “you’re the prettiest view i’ve ever seen”

a few days later and your vacation sadly ended. on your way you asked sunghoon for suggestions, he told you which ones he thinks were the prettiest and you happily agreed.

the next day you uploaded the pictures you were discussing on with sunghoon, and got lots of compliments for your little hobby.

it didn’t take that long for sunghoon to also upload a post. you being a supportive girlfriend opened your fake account to give him a like and look at the post your pretty boyfriend uploaded.

your smile quickly faded when you noticed his pictures were oddly similar to yours. you entered the comment section and fans were already discussing on whether this is all a coincidence or not.

you decided to leave the post on, and hope for the best, knowing that you and sunghoon are probably going to get an angry lecture.

ε ї з — sunoo ; uploading the wrong tiktok.

you and sunoo filmed the new comeback’s challenge after constant beggings that it would be only the two of you.

the staff members were so supportive of your relationship and hyped you up a lot.

“let’s do one for fun and a serious one” he told you and you nodded.

“wait what do you mean one for fun?” you asked.

“one that i’d keep for me only to watch” he cutely smiled and hugged you.

you wondered what he was up to but cooperated and did your best for this tiktok, on the few freestyle seconds, he kissed your cheek and winked at the camera while you were left blushing.

“that was the one for fun?” you asked and he nodded, “we can’t show that to fans, they’ll know we’re a couple the second they see it”

you filmed another one with a cute pose at the end and agreed it’d be the best one to upload. you thanked everyone as you were called back to your dressing room, you kissed goodbye your boyfriend and signaled him to text you.

a few hours passed and you noticed enhypen uploaded a new tiktok. you tapped the screen to give it a like even before watching it until the end.

you focused on your dance moves and the way your chemistry with your boyfriend was displayed over the screen, but your mouth dropped to the floor when you noticed the last seconds of the tiktok.

it was the wrong one. and it was too late to delete because fans were already reposting it and going crazy over it.

ε ї з — jungwon ; forgetting to hide your framed photobooth pictures.

due to their upcoming reality show participation, enhypen members were required to clean their rooms from any suspicious things that fans might see.

the reality show showed enhypen members’ own room and dorm in general. so the rooms had to be very cleaned and organized.

jungwon took in the request very seriously and cleaned every part and any corner of his room, or so he thought.

your framed pictures stood there right next to his bed stand, he can’t go sleep without it being right next to his head and he forgot to hide it somewhere else.

he only figured about it when they showed him his own room in the show, he tried to hide it and tried to stay unbothered as much as he can so fans won’t notice anything suspicious.

too bad fans have 6/6 vision and they’re actually specialists at finding stuff like these.

as soon as the show was aired, fans tried to find out who’s the mysterious girl in the framed picture who’s seen kissing his cheek and smiling widely with him.

luckily, the picture was very much blurred so it was hard for fans to see, it was an easy pass for the company to say that these pictures just so happened to be pictures with his sister.

the company’s plans were ruined when you decided to post a vlog in your room and there sat the same framed picture behind you. it was very far and really hard to notice, but as we all know your fans are crazy.

“you forgot to hide it too?” you giggled over the phone as he laughed as well.

“i love this picture too much i guess”

“i don’t regret not hiding it”

“me neither”

ε ї з — riki ; posting a selca with his sunglasses.

everyone knows about riki’s obsession with sunglasses. he’s like the sunglasses king.

you yourself even bought him a few sunglasses that he tends to wear very often. fans don’t notice it since they always assume it’s always him who buys them.

however, there’s one particular sunglasses that riki has been known for. it’s one of the rarest sunglasses and riki decided to draw some random things on the sides of it and showed it to his fans.

he was so proud of himself, showing his pure talent on his favorite sunglasses, it’s actually one of the sunglasses you bought him as well, but no one has to know that.

you asked for his sunglasses one day, you felt cute and your outfit matched perfectly with his sunglasses.

you also asked him to take a few photos of you with his sunglasses. he smiled through the whole process.

“wait let’s do it like that” you said as you bent down and held the sunglasses that were sitting right on the end of your nose.

“you look so cute” he complimented, “focus on taking the pictures instead of simping!” you ordered and he laughed.

“you can keep them to yourself! it looks better on you”

“i’d never do that to my very lovely boyfriend! ….but if you insist then i will”

one of the first mistakes you made was not noticing a glass window was right behind you, and so the reflection of riki was much seen behind you.

you uploaded the pictures, feeling so cute and excited about the outfit with your boyfriend’s sunglasses.

your second mistake was forgetting that those sunglasses were only unique to riki since he designed and drew on it on his own.

it didn’t take that long for fans to notice his sunglasses and his reflection behind you.

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

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